“You should have told me you were fucking him, Hanna.”
“Why the hell would I tell you that? Why do you think I owe you anything?” She was yelling then too, and it felt like they had an audience for what should have been a private conversation, but they were on a roll and she couldn’t stop herself. “Who do you even think you are? You show up here completely unannounced, and pry like you’re entitled to anything about me. I let you in, I even talk about my mother with you, I give you what you need, and you take that little tiny crack in the window as a door wide open. Who I’m fucking has nothing to do with you!”
“Nice,” Milo mumbled, clearly offended. She couldn’t fight a two-front war. Her head was spinning and she was just trying to stay upright.
Hanna drew a sharp breath. “I can’t fight both of you right now! We haven’t talked about what we’re doing, so why would I talk about it with anyone else?”
“So what, you guys have just been fucking this whole time and sneaking around?” Matty asked, his unshakable demeanor falling away.
Milo didn’t look at her. She tried to explain, “Yes! Yes. We’ve been hooking up, but...” she trailed off, not really sure what else to say.
That got Milo’s attention. “But what, Hanna? But it means nothing? But we’re just fucking friends?”
“No, that’s not what I’m saying. Jesus, can I get a second to think?”
Milo ignored her. “When did you see Logan?”
Three sets of eyes bounced back and forth between them, and Hanna seriously considered walking outside to the balcony and throwing herself off of it.
She stepped toward Milo instead. “He came by the cafe yesterday.”
Milo scoffed. “So, I kiss you goodbye, and five minutes later, you tell Logan nothing is happening?”
She opened her mouth to protest but she was sick of defending herself to an audience. She was sweating. Her bones hurt as they stretched around her lungs, hyperventilating.
She mumbled, “I didn’t know—I wasn’t sure what was happening. You don’t date, right?”
“We should go,” Sara said, sensing that they’d hit a wall. Logan was still muttering to himself. Matty yanked him by the arm and dragged him out of the apartment.
And for two seconds, it was the kind of quiet that consumed entire nights.
Hanna's head exploded with thoughts, everything rushing in at once. She fought for breath, the silence leaving room for all of the fears she'd had about losing someone else to materialize. She shook her head, unsure of what to say.
Milo slammed something around in the kitchen. The sound clattered against her skull, driving the thoughts further into her blood.
She thought she heard her name, but she was too far gone. She darted up the stairs and ran toward the bathroom. She needed to cool the fire within her, and when her panic attacks were at their worst, a cold shower could bring her back to her body. She opened the tap to the shower, battling the zipper on the back of her dress.
“God,” she hissed. “Shit!”
Two hands pulled at the zipper, Milo’s tattoos gently pushing her dress over her hips. He snagged one of her clips from the bathroom counter and wrestled her hair off her shoulders as she struggled to get her breathing under control. He stayed while she stood under the cold water.
It hit her skin like needles.
But it helped.
It brought her back.
When her breathing finally slowed, she turned off the water. The silence was still grating, but tolerable. Milo leaned against the vanity, his eyes focused on the floor.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Fine,” she whispered.
“So, no.”
“No,” she answered.
“I’m too drunk for this conversation, Arizona. I’m going to put some coffee on.”
