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Edwin
He was kissing Hannah.
His Hannah.
The Hannah he had loved and wanted for five long years.
And it was better than anything he’d ever dreamed of.
Her lips were soft, yet demanding. She wanted this, as she tugged him closer, and moaned against his lips.
His mind was racing and spinning and doing all the things it did when it had no idea what was happening.
How had this come to be? How was she in his arms? He should stop caring and just enjoy the moment.
But the idiot that he was couldn't do that.
He pulled back. Her lips were wet and swollen and her eyes were shut.
“Hannah,” he whispered her name and her eyes popped open.
“Why’d you stop?” Her hands were roaming all over his sides and back, the feel of her touching him overwhelming his senses.
He looked deep into her eyes. “Are you drunk?” He’d tasted the alcohol on her and he knew from watching her the whole night that she’d had several drinks. More than enough to make her unaware of what she was doing.
She shook her head. “No, I just want to kiss you. Please, Edwin, kiss me.”
Fuck. The way she begged made it so hard to stop, to pull away. But he knew she’d had just enough alcohol to not be thinking clearly.
He had to stop.
He had to be stronger than his need for her.
He stepped back and pulled her arms from his body. “We can’t do this.” The hardest words he’d ever said in his fucking life.
She stilled, her eyes wide. He saw moisture start to pool in her eyes but before a tear could fall, she shook her head and ran from him.
He fell back against the wall and sank down to the floor.
The woman he’d wanted for five long years had just kissed him and he’d turned her away. He was a fool and a goddamn saint. He wasn’t sure he knew another person who would do what he did.
Without thinking, he touched his fingers to his lips. He could still taste her there. Sweet and tart. Bourbon. She’d been drinking bourbon. He knew it was a favorite of hers. The day she told him she enjoyed it, he’d gone out and bought some to try. Now it was his favorite too.
God, he really was a fucking dumbass.
Dallas had told him that same thing for years and now he knew his friend was right. He’d had his chance and yet, he’d blown it all because he didn’t want to take advantage of her drunken state.
It was a kiss, he wouldn't have let it go further.
Probably. Although how was he to know that with how much need was built up inside him. Who’s to say that he would have been able to stop if it had progressed. If she had, say, grinded up against his cock or if his own hands had molded to the curves of her tits.
He wasn't sure he’d ever be able to stop if he touched her like that.
No, this was for the best.
But what did it mean? Was it just a drunken kiss or had she wanted to kiss him specifically? And what did he do now? Should he go after her? Stay in the hallway and wallow? Leave the party?
“There you are.” At the voice he knew and loved, he looked up. Ruby. Of course, she was the one to find him in this state. “What happened?” In her gorgeous dress, she slid down next to him. “I saw Hannah run out from back here.”
“Was she okay?” His voice was rough and he was afraid if he didn’t get himself under control, he was going to be the one crying.
Something he hadn’t done in years.
Not since he was a teenager.
“She was fine. Zara has her and is taking her home.” She placed a hand on his leg. “Are you okay?”
Ruby knew the story. She knew how he’d loved her from afar for so many years. It was hard to keep it from her when she was marrying his best friend and he’d known about his feelings for Hannah since the day he’d met her. “I think I might have ruined any chance I have with her.”
She didn’t speak, just waited for him to continue.
“She kissed me.” Even saying the words made him shake with lust. “She was drunk and she kissed me. I told her no and pushed her away.”
“Because you’re a good guy.” Her words were soft, gentle like she was trying to comfort him.
He shook his head. “Why would she kiss me?”
“I think the better question is, why wouldn't she kiss you? You’re a catch, Edwin, and you guys have been friends for so long. Maybe she feels the same way about you that you do about her.”
He shook his head over and over again. “That can’t be true.” Was he saying that for Ruby’s sake or for his own? “If that was the case, why didn’t she say something?”
“Why didn’t you?” Ruby raised an eyebrow, making a damn good point.
“She’s the one with the contract that doesn't let her date players.” He looked at Ruby. “Do you know how I know that? Because she mentioned it about a hundred times in the last five years. The ball had to be in her court. I couldn’t do anything about wanting her.”
Ruby sighed. “I love you, Edwin, like a damn brother but you are a fucking idiot.” She stood, somehow gracefully with a long dress on. Reaching out her hand, she waited for him to take hers and then pulled him up. “If she felt something for you and acted on it, that would have been it for her. Like you, she could have felt like it was a lose-lose situation. So maybe, just maybe it’s possible that she kept it to herself so as not to get rejected and lose her job.”
When she made good points, how was he supposed to argue?
He scrubbed both hands down his face and groaned. “So what do I do now?”
“Talk to her? Isn't that what you used to do? Before you basically cut her out of your life?”
Coming from Ruby’s mouth, what he’d done made him sound like a real ass. “I'm just supposed to call her up and say ‘hey, I’ve wanted to kiss you for years, I'm sorry I pushed you away’?”
Ruby dropped her head back and looked up toward the ceiling. “God save me from idiot men. How do any of you make it in this world alone?”
He threw up his hands. “If you’re going to stand here and berate me, can I at least go get a drink?”
“No,” she said sternly. “Text her, ask to meet. She’s in town for a couple more days staying with Zara. I think an in-person conversation is probably a good idea. Just be honest with her, Edwin. She deserves that.”
He had a lot to think about and in order to do that, he needed to be alone. “You should go back to the party.” He leaned forward, kissing her cheek. “Thanks for the advice.”
As he started to walk away, she shouted, “Are you going to take it?”
He shrugged and kept on walking.
He left through a back door so he wouldn't be seen and then waited for the valet in the brisk, cool winter air. His first instinct was to text Hannah, to see if she was okay but he stopped himself every time that feeling came over him.
Tomorrow. He’d text her tomorrow.
Both of them could use a night to try and figure out what had happened.
Only it wasn’t as easy as it sounded. When he got home, his mind was consumed with all things Hannah. The way she’d looked in her dress, the deep green color complimenting her pale skin. How her curves had stood out in the dress and how his hands itched to touch her, anywhere, just once. The smell of her when she’d been close to him. Not florally, that wasn’t Hannah’s style. It was like the ocean on a warm summer’s night.
And her taste. Jesus, he was never going to forget her taste. Sweet and tart, it drove him to distraction.
All those thoughts kept him up for hours. When he couldn’t take it anymore, he shoved his shorts down his legs, took his cock in his hand, and stroked himself to the memories of that kiss. Over the years, he’d jerked himself off to thoughts of Hannah more times than he could count. This time was different. He actually knew what her hip felt like under his fingers and what her mouth felt like under his lips.
He had a part of her with him as he brought himself to release. And it didn’t take long. A few strokes and he was there, whispering her name as he came.
He couldn’t go on like this.
Something had to give.
When he woke up from only a few hours of sleep, he reached for his phone. She was always the first thing on his mind and this was no different. He pulled up her name but before he could text her, he noticed the last few texts. They were all from her, ones he’d never answered.
Not answering her had been the hardest thing he’d ever done.
Edwin:
Hannah, we need to talk.
His heart practically stopped when he saw the three little dots appear. She was writing back.
Hannah:
This is Zara. Hannah doesn’t want to talk to you. Please leave her alone.
Oh.
Any hope he had was quickly washed away. If she didn’t want to talk to him, how was he supposed to find out why she’d kissed him? No, he couldn’t stop there. He had to keep trying.
Edwin:
I understand but I think we need to talk. Can you please help me out?
Hannah:
Like I said, she doesn’t want to talk to you. She’s headed back to Chicago this afternoon.
Shit, she was leaving town. How was he supposed to talk to her if she was leaving town?
He dropped his phone, covering his eyes with his forearm as he laid back on his bed. He needed to see her, needed to know why she’d kissed him. Then it hit him. He would go to Chicago. If he was there, she would have to talk to him.
Yes, that was it.
Zara had just given him a lifeline whether she meant to or not.
––––––––
Twenty-four hours later, he was in the lobby of Top Athlete, waiting for Hannah. It was his only option since he had no clue where she lived. That wasn’t entirely true. He knew what part of town she lived in and that it was across from a cute little park; they’d talked about how she loved to sit at the window and watch people strolling by or playing. But that was as much information as he had.
This idea wasn’t great because he had no clue if she would come into the office. But he knew Hannah, and he knew in his gut, that this is where she would come if she needed to keep herself busy.
Sure enough, ten minutes later, she strolled in looking gorgeous in jeans and a flowy blouse with her hair down around her shoulders.
Hair he wanted to twist around his fist and pull hard on as she shouted his name.
Fuck, he needed to get it together.
“Hannah,” he called out before he could even think about what he was doing.
She stopped walking but didn’t turn to face him. The lobby was empty, just the two of them, at least for the moment.
“Go away, Edwin,” she said, and just hearing her voice made everything inside him better. Even if she was telling him to go away.
“Hannah, please,” he pleaded. “Talk to me.”
Finally, she turned, her face showing anger. “Now you want to talk? After I practically begged you for two months to talk to me, now you're finally ready?”
He took a step toward her. “I know I was an ass but I have reasons.”
“Reason’s you refused to share with me.” There was a long pause. “I thought we were friends.” He saw the moment her bravado ended. Her voice hitched and her body sagged. Gone was the strong, vibrant woman he loved and in her place was someone different. Someone who was confused and out of sorts.
Shit, he’d done that.
Neither spoke, they just continued to stare at each other, speaking without words. That’s how well they knew each other. And at that moment, he let himself really see her. He saw her vulnerability and her questions. He saw her confusion and her anger. But the one thing he saw that he’d never seen before was want.
She wanted him.
And that gave him hope.