“She’s right, though. I am an ass man.”
Hanna pulled at his collar. “Yes, you’ve made that very clear.”
“I will not apologize.” He held her for another moment before heading toward the kitchen and pulling a mason jar out from under the sink. She watched as he arranged the flowers into a perfect golden halo.
He looked her over. “You ready? Or do you need another minute?”
“I just need shoes!”
She headed back upstairs, finding her heels in her Vegas bag and fastening the straps. On her way back down, she had to stop just to admire the sight of him leaning on the kitchen counter next to her flowers, looking like a damn dream. Olivia’s question echoed in her mind once again—what made him so different?
Shit.
“I’ve got a car coming,” he said, looking at his phone, blissfully unaware of the very dangerous yearning she was experiencing from the stairs.
She grabbed her purse and followed him out to the elevator. As soon as the door closed, she made her move.
She pressed him against the wall, wrapping her arms around his neck and applying pressure to his hips.
Milo groaned as they came to a stop. “Easy, Arizona. We’ve got all night.”
The door rolled back and she marched ahead, knowing full well he watched every step.
He caught up quickly and then did something she never expected, catching her as off guard as he'd been in the elevator.
He held her hand.
“This is quite the view,” she said over a glass of Johnnie Walker Blue—her pick—staring out the nineteenth-floor window of a gorgeous restaurant in Nob Hill.
From the low-lit table, she could see all of San Francisco, the city lights framing the blue Bay. They were several shared plates in and she was already buzzed from the scotch.
Milo raised an eyebrow over his drink. “Want a fun fact?”
“You have fun facts?” She smiled. He was having more fun than she expected. Too much fun. The entire ride over, he kept a hand on her knee, chatting away about any and everything, a levity to him that was totally new to her.
He tilted his head sideways. “Lower your expectations. I have one singular fun fact. So, back when World War II broke out, soldiers would ship out from the Bay, but first, they’d come here to Top of the Mark and toast to the bridge for good luck.” Milo winced. “Actually, now that I’m saying it out loud, I realize it’s less fun, more sad in the greater context of everything. I would like to amend it to an interesting fact.”
She shrugged and stabbed another bite of steak with her fork.
“I guess if you have to say goodbye, this isn’t the worst place you could do it.” His smile twisted a little and she realized he’d taken what she’d said personally. “No hidden meaning, I promise.”
“Have I mentioned how incredible you look tonight?”
“You have not.”
He grinned. “I’m a stupid, stupid man.”
“You know, I’ve always said that about you.” She smirked and he laid a hand over hers. It was funny how intimate such small brushes of his skin had become in the light of Date Night Milo. But there, where people could see them, and against both of their better judgments, it felt wilder than any of the other encounters they’d had.
He squeezed her hand and then brought it to his lips, gently brushing them over her fingers. She wondered how quickly they could get the check.
But Milo was enjoying the evening, and she was determined to enjoy it for him too.
“Hanna,” he said after his last bite, clearly thinking long and hard about his next few words. “I have to tell you, I can’t stop thinking about the other day,” he finally confessed. “In the bar.”
“Which part?” She wiggled her eyebrows at him.
Milo dropped his gaze to their hands. “I’m serious, Hanna. Something changed. I’ve never really felt like that before.”
