“I do,” she whispered.
They stayed quiet as they stripped off their shoes and jeans. She flopped into his bed in just his Giants T-shirt and he fell over her, nuzzling into her neck.
“You should wear that sundress on our date tomorrow,” he mumbled into her skin. She twisted so his arms draped over her, and she lay flush against him. “The one you wore at the engagement party.”
“Anything you want, Milo.”
SIXTEEN
“And then he asked you on a date?” Olivia asked, her infuriating pen moving far too quickly across the page.
Hanna had been determined not to mention Milo during her therapy session, but her mind couldn't find anything else to talk about.
He occupied every space.
“I think?”
Olivia hmm’d as she looked over her notes. “And you’re… feeling okay about that?”
Hanna snorted. “No!” She rested her forehead on the guest room desk. “It’s an insane idea.”
“How so?”
“He’s not available. I’m not available. We’re just friends!”
Olivia remained silent, her signature move.
“I can’t lose someone else,” Hanna whispered. “And I feel like this is careening into losing a friend very quickly.”
“Let me ask you this, Hanna,” Olivia said, her beige office even flatter over the webcam. “If you could survive losing Logan, and losing your mother, what makes the thought of losing Milo—whom you’ve known for a few months—different?”
Hanna leaned back against the chair. What did make it different with him?
“I hate when you do that.”
“My job?” Olivia asked.
“Yeah,” Hanna sighed.
She wrapped the last few straight pieces of her hair around the curling iron, counting to ten as her heart tied itself into knots. She was still arguing with Olivia in her head when three sharp knocks on the front door interrupted her rebuttal.
She waited to see if Milo answered, but she didn’t hear him downstairs. Thinking about it, she hadn’t actually heard him come home.
Three more knocks sounded on the door and she skipped down the stairs to see who it was. Glancing through the peephole, she burst out laughing at the sight on the other side.
Milo waited in the hallway, dressed in slacks and a button-down with the sleeves rolled up, the top buttons undone enough to see the edge of his tattoos. He had one hand behind his back, and she already knew he had a bouquet of sunflowers.
He was going to be the death of her.
She pulled open the door and he lifted the bright yellow bundle, the petals like rays of sunshine hitting his face.
“Hey, gorgeous.”
She’d already decided upstairs that whatever happened that night, it would live separately from any other facet of reality. After this weekend, she would never be on a date with Milo again, so for the next several hours, she was going to take advantage of it.
In the spirit of this decision, she threw herself into his arms, the paper wrapper around the flowers crunching into her back as he hit the wall outside of the door.
“You missed me,” he mumbled, kissing her softly. The chastity of it somehow felt more intimate than anything else he’d done to her, sending butterflies racing around her stomach.
