“So, you’re saying you kept it casual?” I quirk my eyebrow.
Shaking her head, she chuckles. “Yes, casual.”
Good. Thinking of her with anyone, including Danny, makes my blood pressure rise.
“You know you are the only woman I have ever loved, Hannah,” I confess the truth I have been carrying around with me for years.
“You can’t say that to me,” she whispers, shifting her body on the couch.
“Why,” I shrug with one shoulder, “it’s the truth.”
Her eyes flicker to mine quickly, but I see the hurt there.
“I don’t think I’m ready to hear your truth.”
“Then I’ll wait,” I say quietly. “I’ll wait as long as it takes for you to be ready. But I refuse to take it back.”
She doesn’t say anything. Just sits there, her eyes fixed on the floor between us. I don’t want to push her. Not this time.
Shifting slightly on the couch, careful not to get too close, I let out a soft breath. “We have a lot of great memories together.”
For a moment, I don’t think she is going to answer. Then I see the smallest curve at the corner of her mouth.
“Like the time you tried to teach me how to play pool in the basement?” She huffs, shaking her head. “You told me that it was a life skill, and I needed to know how to play before we left for uni. Not one time did I need to know how to play. I was horrible then and I still can’t play.”
I smile relieved. “Honestly, it just gave me an opportunity to check out your ass. I swear I had a semi for that entire summer.”
“You’re the worst.” She leans forward and smacks my thigh. “We had fun that summer, didn’t we? You taught me a bunch of things.”
“Like what?” I’m curious about what she will tell me. Throughout high school, my feelings for Hannah had steadily grown. Though I dated regularly, it killed me to see her doing the same. I’m not ashamed to say I may have sabotaged more than one of her dates. I was a total hypocrite and extremely jealous. I wanted to be the one who held her hand at the movies and kissed her at the door at the end of the date. I thought I was firmly in the friend zone until the summer before we left for school. I remember feeling things beginning to shift. Hugs lingered a little longer. She watched me when she didn’t think I was looking. Joking around became a little dirtier.
“Remember when you tried to teach me how to play guitar? I see that you still play.” She nods towards the acoustic guitar leaning against the wall.
“I thought you did well. Do you still play?”
Chuckling, she shakes her head. “No, I never made it past the Seven Nation Army stage of lessons.”
“Do you remember trying to teach me how to bake a cake? That was a disaster.” We laugh remembering how we were so proud of the cake we baked and painstakingly decorated, only to cut into it and the centre was a gooey mess.
“We mastered chocolate chip cookies, but that cake was awful,” she giggles.
For the next hour we reminisce over our shared memories beside each other on the couch. Just sitting together comfortably, talking like no time has passed. At some point, we drifted closer to each other, and she began tracing her finger along the lines of a tattoo on my forearm. I don’t think she even notices she’s doing it, and I don’t dare move as not to break the spell. I can’t imagine how I could have missed out on simple moments like this.
“One of my biggest accomplishments that summer was finally cliff jumping at Pikes Peak. Throwing myself off a cliffinto deep water never sounded like a good time, but I had major FOMO. You helped me be brave.”
All our friends had been jumping from the cliff for years, but Hannah never wanted to try until that summer. I insisted she wear a one-piece bathing suit because I didn’t want her to lose her bikini top in front of our friends when she plunged into the water. However, if we were alone that would have been a different story.
“You were always brave, one of the bravest people I know. You just needed someone to hold your hand while you jumped.”
“I’m not feeling very brave right now,” she hangs her head and whispers.
I gently place two fingers under her chin and raise it so I can look into her eyes. “Talk to me. Tell me what you are thinking about.”
“I don’t know if I should make space for you in my life again, Logan,” she whispers her confession.
“What can I do? I will take your friendship, but you need to know I want more.” Reaching for her hand, I thread our fingers together. I know I shouldn’t be holding her hand, sitting this close and longing for things I can’t have.
“I don’t need you, Logan; I have been managing just find without you. I’m happy. I’ve been happy for a long time. If I decide to do this, it’s because I want to.” Her fingers tighten around mine and her thumb sweeps back and forth over my knuckles.
