Rather than think anymore, she submitted to its siren call, her need for oblivion stronger than ever.
WHEN SHE WOKE the next morning, Hanna tried to pretend it was a dirty, alcohol-induced dream. But the ache between her legs was too real, and she didn’t have to reach down to feel the evidence of last night’s activities. She only had to inhale Richard’s scent to remember what happened in clear, vivid detail.
She lifted her hand up and ran her fingers through her hair, her progress hampered by the knots created by rampant sex and restless dreams. Daylight forced its way through the thick fabric of the curtains, slithering through the area above the rail.
“I didn’t mean to wake you.” His voice was soft, his touch sure, as he sat down on the bed beside her. He was dressed, wearing just his pants and white shirt from the night before.
“You’re leaving?”
“I have a meeting at seven. I can’t get out of this one.” His words were laced with regret. Then he leaned and brushed his lips over her forehead, leaving a trail of ice across her skin.
“Oh.” She frowned, trying to think of a suitable response. It was like her brain hadn’t caught on to the fact she was awake yet.
“Can we meet this evening?” His mouth feathered her skin. “We need to talk.”
She gnawed at her lower lip, the reality of the situation hitting her like a curveball. There was so much to talk about. She didn’t know where to begin.
“I’ve got interviews all day. I’ll be free at six.”
“Interviews?” His forehead wrinkled. She reached out a finger to smooth them. Even the sensation of his skin against hers was enough to light her flame.
“For my replacement…bad timing right?”
The story of their lives…
“I’ll pick you up at six. Don’t make any rash decisions.”
“Why not?” The unspoken words were like a scab. She wanted to pick at it, make it bleed.
“Because I want you here with me.”
“I’m not a cheater, Richard, and neither are you.” Except they were. They both were.
The muscles in his cheek twitched as he looked down at her. In the half-light of the morning his skin looked warm and tan. She wanted to kiss it all over.
“When Meredith comes back next week, I’m going to tell her it’s over.”
Just like that, her heart felt like it had grown wings and flown out of her chest. Though welcomed, his words were like a bolt out of the blue. In the course of a day she had gone from having nothing, to possibly having it all.
They were so close.
“Okay.” Her words came out as a whisper, and she sat up, the sheets falling from her body to reveal her naked chest. The twitch in Richard’s cheek got stronger, and she rapidly grabbed the sheets and pulled them up to her shoulders.
“I want to touch you so badly,” he confessed, his hands balled into fists as if he were restraining himself. “But I’ve fucked everything up so far.”
“Richard—”
“No, hear me out. You know I love you, I’ve always loved you, and you don’t deserve to be anything but first in my life. I shouldn’t have slept with you while I was still with her.”
“You were drunk. We both were.”
“It doesn’t excuse anything.” He was agitated now, long fingers raking through his hair. “Let me try to fix this, let me do this right. Can we try to just be friends until next week?”
Hanna sighed, relief flooding her chest. “That sounds good to me.”
IT TOOK ALL day, but she finally found the right man for the job. Like Hanna, Paul Spence came from a music-journalism background, and his knowledge of the New York scene rivaled her own in its encyclopedic nature. She felt a little sad she wasn’t going to be working alongside him in New York. They’d hit it off from the start, and she’d spent half the interview asking him questions about the gigs he’d been to recently, arguing good-naturedly with him about the merits of various groups.
“It’s been a pleasure meeting you, Paul,” she said, as the elevator car arrived. “You’ll be hearing from us very soon.”