My Heart Insists It Knows What It Wants
“So?” Mason says, quirking one of his eyebrows higher than the other and irritating me because I can’t do it. He leans over his desk to look at the paperwork a little closer before turning to look at me.
“So what?” I look away at my own paperwork. Though I know what Mason is asking, I play dumb. I’m still smarting at how things ended the night before with Seth—our first fight I suppose—unclear about what it was actually about. Sebastian? My fear over a confrontation? I don’t think it’s something I’ve done, and while this understanding is progress for me, it doesn’t make it any easier. The outcome is out of my control, and I don’t know how to fix it. Then again, repairing it isn’t up to me. It’s the chaos I feel about whether Seth wants to fix it that has me unsettled.
It does make me realize, however, how different fighting with Sebastian was in contrast. How I would bend over backwards to placate him. How I would avoid conflict out of fear of being emotionally dismantled. How I couldn’t bring up the way I felt without being disassembled as oversensitive or unhinged. How I was always apologizing. This fight with Seth is illuminating in a way that makes me understand whatever happened with Sebastian in many ways wasn’t about me, but about him and the way he would derail me. Seth, even in a fight, was reassuring. He’d said, “I need space,” without accusation, responsible for his own feelings.
It’s very clear that whatever I had with Sebastian wasn’t right, and I hate that it’s taken me so long to acknowledge it. That it took Sebastian ending things to wake me up. I’m understanding now that what I just thought was us falling apart was an unhealthy relationship rooted in control and manipulation. And I let myself fall into that pit. I hate that, but I’m also understanding now that I hadn’t known what I hadn’t known.
I do now.
I know that I deserve someone to listen to my concerns and validate my feelings.
I know I should never have to hide either of those things to make my partner feel secure.
I know that my hopes and dreams are equally important to my partner’s.
I know that I should never make myself smaller.
I know that my partner should respect my wants and wishes.
I know that I shouldn’t have to say ‘I’m sorry’ for being me.
Mason turns in his seat to fully face me, and it creaks under his weight. “Hannah! You better spill it.”
I look at the list of research topics I’m supposed to search for a professor, ignore him, and type some keywords into a search-engine database.
Mason leans forward and pokes my arm. He’s supposed to be doing the same thing, but he’s being Mason.
“You’re distracting me.” I offer him a smile.
“Please. You totally love being distracted by me. I want to know what happened with Hottie.”
“We went to OSM.” I don’t want to share that we’ve had a spat, but realizing that we’ve had a weird, somehow very civilized fight, it feels very on-brand for Seth and Hannah, which does make me smile a little bit.
His eyes narrow. “You’re withholding. I can tell by that sly smile on your face. There’s no way that you date a guy that looks like that and not let your freak flag fly.”
“Freak flag.” I snicker and mark a few possibilities in a database to examine as pertinent sources.
Mason grins. “I’m happy for you. You seem–” he stops and looks at his computer, as though doing a search in a database for the right keyword– “at peace.” His sparkling eyes return to mine. “That’s a good thing. You take more of that for yourself.”
“That’s the plan.” I offer him a smile, typing in another search term. “Whose article are you doing the grunt work for?” I ask, changing the subject to something else so I don’t have to think about missing Seth, hoping to occupy my thoughts with research monotony rather than replaying the fight.
“Dr. Hadley. He’s writing an article on critical race theory as it relates to Oregon and indigenous First Nation People.”
“Sounds more interesting than Dr. Whistler’s examination of biodiversity on the bacteria derived in Eastern Oregon plant life, and its correlation to medical breakthroughs for skin ailments.”
Mason rolls his eyes. “I couldn’t do this.”
“What?”
“Be an academic. All the rush to write the next big thing. All the research.” He makes a disgusted sound.
“Probably why you’re studying business management.”
He nods. “Seriously. I’d rather look at spreadsheets and explore target markets any day of the week as opposed to this.” He makes a face and a sound to match.
“You mean you don’t want to study bacteria?”
“No. I like things clean and tidy.”
I laugh and note another article. “I agree. Give me my elementary lesson plans any day. I can explore photosynthesis on the most basic level and come up with art projects for second graders to learn it.”
“Could I get some help here?” someone asks.
I turn toward Seth, standing on the other side of the counter, and temper my smile. He offers a smile as subdued as mine, clearly nervous as he shifts on his feet.
“You’re here?” I ask. It doesn’t sound quite right, and I see Mason give me a double take.
“I have a research paper to do for my history class. Thought I’d come in and work on it since I was going to come and get you anyway.”
I check my impulse to jump over the counter and attack him with a hug, to tell him to stop being mad, and instead introduce him to Mason, who is polite, but I notice the awareness on his face. He leans forward, and I can see from the corner of my eye that he’s assessing the awkward tension between Seth and me.
“It’s nice to meet you,” Mason says. “Do you need any help finding sources?”
“You know. I might.” Seth looks at me.
“Hannah is really good at research. We were just talking about how much she loves it.” Mason winks at me and mouths, you can thank me later.
I smile, amused by Mason, but calm the excitement at the prospect of being with Seth out in the wilds of stacks. We need to talk. I don’t know if it will happen and what the outcome will be. There’s every possibility that Seth might not want the drama that comes along with me trying to navigate out from behind my ex.
“I can help.” I walk around the counter.
Seth falls in step with me, his fingers brushing mine, sending sparks up my arms that explode like fireworks at the base of my spine. I quell the urge to take his hand and lead him to the elevator.
“I wanted to see if I could take you out to eat after your shift?”
“Date five?” I ask and walk onto the elevator. “Or for something else?”
Seth follows me in. The doors slide shut behind him, but neither of us move to press the button for our destination. Instead, I’m staring at him.
He looks down for a fraction of a second, then back up, meeting my gaze. “Hannah. I’m sorry.” He takes a step closer.
“About what?”
He takes a deep breath. “I got angry, and it scares me when I do.”
“Why?”
He doesn’t answer, but his eyes fall away from mine, as if he can’t hold them up, weighted with something else he doesn’t want me to see. And I recognize it. I’ve felt it. Shame.
“Your dad?” I ask.
He nods, still averting his eyes. “That shit Sebastian pulls… he just–” He pauses a second, then finally meets my gaze. “He reminds me of my dad. When you didn’t want me to confront him, even if it was from a good place… I just felt weak.”
I step toward him. “You are the farthest thing from weak, Seth Peters.”
“I shouldn’t have shut you out.”
“Except you’re here now, letting me in. And what did you do except be honest about what you needed? I can respect that.” I reach up and smooth a lock of hair from his forehead. “I was afraid you might not want–”
“What?” He grabs my hand.
“Maybe it was all just too much.”
He shakes his head. “No, Han. No.” Then he presses his lips to my palm, walking me backward until my back is pinned between him and the elevator wall. “Are we okay?”
I grab his head, my fingers in the silk of his waves. “We better be,” I say and draw him down to kiss me, smiling against his lips. “Because the alternative doesn’t work for me.”
Seth wraps his arms around me, and the kiss he offers is filled with promise.
Because I’m at work and run the risk of the Hun opening the elevator, I break the kiss and reach around Seth to press the button for the sub-basement. The elevator moves.
Seth leans against the wall across from me. My breath rushes through my lungs, wanting another kiss, wanting his hands, his body pressed against mine.
He grins, sheepish—dimples—which is even more charming, if that’s possible.
“How about the Sandwich Spot on Main?” I ask.
Seth pushes away from the elevator wall, and the anticipation in the air crushes my lungs as he takes the two steps to me. “I can’t wait.”
I grasp ahold of his belt loops and pull his hips against mine. “The next two hours are going to be torture knowing you’re here, waiting for me.”
He leans forward and presses his lips to the sensitive spot between my ear and my neck. “You smell good.” His tongue tests the skin. “And taste good too. I want to wake up with you again. I want my head between your thighs.”
I whimper at the thought.
With a tilt of my head, Seth settles in against me and tests a spot on my neck gently with his teeth. My nerves spark with energy that radiates outward, and I can’t help but make a little noise.
“Hannah,” Seth says and moves his hips. I can feel his excitement pressed against my belly. “I missed you last night. I hated walking away.”
“I hated it, too.”
The elevator bell announces we’ve arrived, but it takes an extra beat for Seth to step away. Truthfully, I don’t want him to, but there’s time.
The fluorescent lighting in the hallway is garish and makes the green linoleum appear sickly and institutional. The sub-basement is not my favorite spot in the library. It’s a mix of the old library with the updated one that was renovated several years prior.
“Where are you taking me?” Seth asks from behind me. “This looks shady. I feel like I’m in a 1930’s mental hospital or something.” A few steps later he says, “Are you bringing me down here to have your way with me?”
I laugh quietly. “You see my sinister plan so clearly.” I look over my shoulder at him and smile. When we reach one of the study rooms, I turn on the light. Inside is a round table with several chairs placed around it, and a computer linked to the library’s database system against one wall. “It’s very quiet, and not many people like to come down here. The new part of the library is sexier.” I lean against the wall next to the light switch.
“This is very… private,” he says and drops his backpack on the table with a thunk. He turns and takes a few steps to reach me. “How often do you think people come down here and get it on?” He lifts his eyebrows with amusement, then reaches out, grabs my waist, and pulls me closer.
“Probably more than I’d like to think about.”
With a hand, Seth reaches out and closes the door, cutting off the outside world. “Let’s see what it’s like,” he says, his voice deep and raspy. Then he kisses me.
I grab ahold of his face, then wrap my arms around him. Desire courses through me feels like a flood, the dam having broken. Tongues, hands, quiet inhales of breath mixed with needy want.
Seth reaches down and picks me up.
I wrap my legs around his hips.
Our mouths remain connected.
He walks forward and presses my back up against the wall, the pressure of his body a sweet antithesis to mine. I strain toward him, needing and seeking relief. I’m not sure where I end, and he begins.
“Hannah,” he says, drawing his mouth away from mine, dragging his lips and tongue across my skin.
“Yes?”
“I want this. Just you. Always.”
“Yes.”
He shakes his head and stops, leaning back, his hands still squeezing my hips as he looks at me. “I want to be yours. I want you to be mine. Exclusively. You and me. Your boyfriend. My girlfriend.”
I search his face, and my heart expands in my chest, sort of floats up toward my throat with elation. It’s as if everything in my life is suddenly in harmony. My skin erupts with a chill, the synchronicity of things coming into place even though our paths diverged, and my body communicating it physically. I frame his face with my hands and swallow the tears that want to fill my eyes with joy. “I want that too. I want to be yours and you to be mine. Your girlfriend. My boyfriend.”
He kisses me again with even more fervor. Words like ‘happy’, and ‘lucky’, and ‘fuck’ peppered between kisses. His hands skim my thighs, grab my ass, squeezing and holding me hostage against him. I moan into his mouth, do my best to sink into him. I want to crawl inside him and set up my home in his heart.
“Hannah… If we don’t stop–” He pulls away and offers another of those cute, sheepish smiles, then presses his forehead to mine.
“True,” I say with broken breaths.
“How long?”
“Two hours.”
He leans back so he can look at me, and his gaze flicks back to my lips before returning to my eyes. He nods. “Back to work.”
I don’t want to go back upstairs, but I don’t say this. I just offer him a smile and press a kiss to his dimple. “I am working.”
He laughs. “This is part of your job description? Kissing me?”
I smile. “I want to kiss you all the time, and now, kissing you is a perk of my job.”
He makes a growly noise but lets me go, stepping away. “You’re going to be the death of me, woman.” He puts the table between us. “History paper. History paper. History paper,” he chants and adjusts his pants.
I smile and smooth all my clothes back into place. “What’s your topic?” I ask and walk around to the computer. After a quick explanation and several keyword searches, we have a list of materials to hunt for and head out to scavenge for them in the stacks. By the time we collect what we can find, spending as much time as we can touching one another in small but meaningful ways, and sneak in another several kisses in the stacks, I’m down to the end of my shift.
I collect my things and meet Seth at the front door.
He takes my hand in his and walks me to my car. “How about I follow you home, so you can park your car, then we can go to the Sandwich Spot together?”
“That sounds like a good plan,” I tell him and give him a quick kiss before getting into my car. When I drive into the apartment complex and park my car, I remember that Jewel isn’t home because she texted she’s at Joy’s. Suddenly, I’m not hungry for a sandwich. I want Seth, and with an empty apartment, that’s exactly what I’m going to get.