Sharing Hannah - Page 51
My body shot upright. I blinked a few times, then bounced from the bed and stood up.
I’d given them time, given them space. But I’d also given them myself. Every emotion, every word and murmur and midnight whisper I’d exchanged with all three of my lovers… all of it had represented exactly what was within my heart. The whole time I’d been with them, everything I’d done had been because I wanted to do it. Not because of some stupid magazine article.
No, the name might be fake, but Hannah was real. Totally, utterly, irrevocably real.
Hannah was me.
If they wanted to be mad, they could. If they wanted to shout at me some more, I was fine with that too. But I wasn’t walking away so easily. Hell, Hannah sure wouldn’t have.
I glanced to a darkened window, where a mixture of sleet and freezing rain was pattering against the glass.
It didn’t matter. I knew exactly what I had to do.
Thirty-Three
BROOKE
At the top floor of the old building, the ancient elevator rumbled to a jerky, death-defying stop. I pulled my key. Yanked open the rickety gate, to the high-pitched screech of metal on metal.
As I stepped boldly into the studio apartment, a blast of welcome heat washed over me. I could smell food — pungent and delicious. Spread out over the little counter I saw meat, cheese, spices…
“You’re having taco night without me?”
Adam and Dante were staring back at me incredulously, blank looks on both their faces. One of them had a slotted spoon. The other, a paper plate in each hand.
“Look, I know you’re still mad,” I said, taking another couple of steps forward. “And you’ve got every right to hate me for lying to you...”
My high heels clacked loudly on the worn wooden floor. I swallowed hard, trying not to lose my momentum.
“But you need to know that every single fucking thing about our relationship… well that was REAL. That wasn’t made up, like Hannah was. It sure as hell wasn’t for some dumb writing assignment, either.”
A violent shiver wracked my body, but I kept on going.
“I fell for you,” I said, keeping my voice strong. “The three of you. That was all me. That was all Brooke.”
I stepped even closer, eyeing them over. Adam was still in his work clothes. He smelled like all good things; sweat and steel and sawdust. Dante had slipped into a T-shirt and a pair of shorts. They both looked fantastic. I could feel my body, tingling beneath my long black trench coat. Willing itself in their direction.
“You’re shivering,” Adam finally said.
“It’s freezing out there,” I acknowledged. “Cold and wet and disgusting.”
“And yet you came here unannounced,” said Dante. He jerked his chin in the direction of the elevator. “Used your… car key?”
I nodded and took a final step forward. “One day someone’s gonna break in here, and steal all the shit you don’t have.”
Either the joke fell flat, or they were still figuring out how to answer. And the joke definitely hadn’t fallen flat.
“Now you can stay mad at me if you want,” I said. “Throw this whole thing away over a foolish, foolish mistake…”
I shrugged, letting my trench coat drop heavily to the floor. Beneath it I wore virtually nothing. A white lace bra, a matching thong. White fishnet stockings, trailing all the way down to my spiked white heels.
“Or you can forgive me,” I said simply. “And we can… make up.”
For a long time they just stared at me, but not in the eyes. Their gaze crawled up and down my mostly-naked body, stopping to devour my virgin-white lingerie. Lingering on vast stretches of my ivory skin, flushed pink with cold.
Dante coughed and cleared his throat. “So you think you can just come here, apologize, then try and lure us back with sex?”
“Yes,” I replied simply. Slowly I brought both hands to my hips. “So… is it working?”
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