She jerks up and sits back on the couch, pulling the afghan with her. “What happened?”
I sit up. “We fell asleep.”
She nods, then points at the wet spot on my chest. “Sorry about that. Guess I drooled.” Her cheeks blush, matching her strawberry blonde curls.
I glance down. “I hadn’t noticed.” Part of me wants to take a picture of my shirt as a reminder that it actually happened, but I’m pretty sure Hannah would consider that weird.
A knock draws both our attention to her front door.
“Were you expecting company this morning?” It’s a casual, normal question, right?
Hannah’s face transforms from sleepy to worried. “Graham.”
“What?!?” I launch to my feet. “If he sees I’m here, like this… He’ll think we…that I…”
Hannah blushes again.
I can’t say it because that will unleash what’s in my head (and growing in my heart, if I’m completely honest) into the universe.And I’m not talking about sex. I mean intimacy with Hannah on a deep level.
Because that’s what it would be with her, which is unlike any other relationship I’ve had in the past. And thinking about that right now isn’t helping my situation at all.
She spins around, scanning the room, then stands up, tugging the afghan around her. “We’ll just tell Graham the truth that we fell asleep watching a movie. He’ll understand.”
I think my eyes about popped out of my head. “Have you not met your brother?”
She tucks her lips in, making an effort not to laugh. At least she’s trying to be understanding of my fear of being pulverized by her brother.
Graham knocks again. “Hannah, you in there?”
Even through the door, he sounds impatient.
“Be right there!” Hannah points to the bathroom. “Go in there. I’ll tell Graham I’m not feeling well and to go without me.”
I palm my forehead. “I forgot about the family breakfasts.”
“You should join us.” She throws this over her shoulder as she heads toward her door.
I make a beeline for the bathroom. I’ll contemplate breakfast with the McCarthys when I know my life isn’t in danger. I use some of Hannah’s toothpaste on my finger to get rid of my morning breath, then wet my hands to make sense of my hair. Now, I’ll just hide out until Graham leaves.
Graham’s voice filters through the door. “Why is Nick’s truck parked outside?”
Busted. I stifle the groan, threatening to burst out. I’ll simply tell him I stopped by to ask Hannah about Bandit. I’d prefer not to lie, but my desire to avoid physical injury outweighs that concern at the moment.
As I open the door, ready to tell Graham my excuse, Hannah’s words slam me into my tracks.
“Nick helped me last night with Bandit. I was worn out. He made us dinner. We fell asleep watching a movie. That’s it.” She walks off as if the subject is closed and disappears into her bedroom.
That leaves Graham and me alone. He faces me, his neck and cheeks a deeper shade than Hannah’s adorable blush. He’s like a red-hot furnace about to blow.
“That’s it?” His words are quiet. The worst kind of quiet. The quiet before a storm.
I hold my hand up. “I swear.”
He nods and purses his lips together. “Okay. I believe you.”
I exhale the breath I didn’t realize I was holding. “Good.”
“But don’t let it happen again.” He says this with a grin which is more threat than acceptance.
