Fine Fine Fine, page 15
“Got a fresh box the night you flew in,” he rasped as he leaned over her back, gripping her neck and pushing into her slowly. The pressure as he took his time filling her sent a shockwave over her hips, manifesting in his name slipping from her mouth as he moved within her. They’d gotten so close so many times, she’d been brought over the edge by him so many times she thought she knew what it might feel like.
She’d woefully underestimated how good Milo would feel inside her, and that was one of the less fortunate truths of her life. One she’d have to contend with later—god, the time she’d wasted.
She pushed her hips back, searching for more of him.
“Easy now,” he spat out between moaning her name.
“Good time, not a long time,” Hanna panted.
Milo’s grip tightened on her hips. “You,” he gasped. “I need you so much closer.” He pulled her up and she whimpered at the loss of him. “How opposed are you to fucking on the floor of a bar that I swear was cleaned this morning?”
His hands dug into her ass and wrapped her legs around him, pushing against her as she fought for breath. In that moment, Hanna didn't give two shits if the floor had ever been cleaned. She only wanted to feel him inside her again.
Milo attempted to sink them gracefully behind the bar, but as soon as his knees hit the floor, he fell back. She caught herself between the wall and the backstock lined beneath the bar top, giggling as he repositioned himself to sit against the wall. He leaned at an angle, yanking her down to him and guiding her hips gently over his lap.
She rolled her hips forward and he grabbed both sides of her face, kissing her slowly, reverently. It wasn’t a distraction or to get a rise out of her. It wasn’t teasing or playing a game.
It was genuinely enjoying being with her, being claimed by her.
His hands glided over her sides, setting a rhythm that had her lost for words and well on her way to only being able to rasp sounds. She wound her hips in circles, her mind so full of him she couldn’t think of anything else as she inched closer to oblivion. One hand crawled up her thighs, pushing her dress up. She leaned back, shoving the fabric over her head so he could get to more of her, sink his teeth into her flesh.
He picked up the pace, fingers digging into her hips as they both stopped forming words. Hanna pulled away from his lips to breathe, but he was having none of it, hauling her back to him and biting at her lip, moaning into her mouth.
When the low thunder became her name, she damn near lost her mind.
“Don’t stop,” he whispered, his jaw clenched. “Keep going, baby.”
The silence that followed was short-lived, but said so very much.
She tried not to let the word mean anything. Tried not to let it soak into her skin or tickle her ribs. Tried not to blush as she broke apart around him, her climax definitely not attached to the thrill of being his baby, if only for a second.
Milo was right behind her, his face buried in her hair. If they both stayed completely still, they could pretend it didn’t happen. If neither of them looked at the other, they’d never have to admit how right it all felt.
Hanna leaned her head into his shoulder, her eyes fixed on the shelves beside them as she caught her breath.
“What’s that?” she asked, pulling at a piece of paper sticking out from between the wood of the bar and the drywall. An old Polaroid broke loose and she flipped it over as he brushed her hair over her shoulder with his eyes still closed.
“Is this your mom?” she said, a faded old image of a young woman standing in front of the bar, her hair falling in long dark waves, teased to hell and back. Milo snagged the photo from her hands.
“It is,” he laughed. “Dad must have stashed it back here.”
Neither of them pointed out the bright yellow sunflower emblazoned across her cropped shirt as they sat in the silence for another moment.
FIFTEEN
“So, about tonight,” Milo said over his eggs and bacon at the cafe.
They’d spent most of the night in his bed, watching old movies, and then not watching old movies.
Her ears perked up. “Sara texted me this morning, she confirmed Logan is going to the Giants game with us.”
“That’s okay. I can keep my hands to myself for a few hours. I figured I’d work from the office today and let you have the apartment to actually get some work done.” He smiled, and she giggled. They were both severely behind on their respective projects. “But maybe we could sneak away for a nightcap after?”
“That works for me,” she said between pancake bites.
“Great. And then tomorrow night I made a seven o’clock reservation for dinner.” He didn’t look at her as he said it.
She set her fork down.
“Don’t panic, Arizona. Just go with it, okay?”
She tried not to shake her head at the risk of alerting him to the spiral he’d ignited. It was just sex. All of it was just sex.
Until it wasn’t. In the bar the day before, they'd stayed together, frozen in a loaded silence, for far too long. It was all she'd thought about and, approximately every thirteen seconds, his voice rang out against her skull, whispering baby, baby, baby.
And if she spent one more second wondering about whatever was between them now, or where their time box stood, she was going to freak out.
“I gotta go.” Milo pushed his plate toward her, knowing that she wanted his fruit, and leaned forward to kiss her quickly. The boldness in public sent a thrill down her spine. “I’ve got a closet full of Giants shit if you want to borrow something.”
“Bye,” she tried to say casually as he leaned in for another kiss, but nothing about it was casual.
A moment after she watched him leave, her phone buzzed against the pink table.
DO NOT ANSWER
Hey, you at the cafe this morning?
It took everything in her not to respond that it was none of his damn business where she was, but it was decidedly easier for her to be nice after a night of panting against Milo’s neck.
HANNA
Yes?
DO NOT ANSWER
Can I come by?
She only responded with a thumbs up and tried to spend the next few minutes breathing slowly. She was in no mood for round five of Logan versus Hanna, but she had to admit, she was curious what he wanted.
They’d mostly avoided each other after he’d popped by Milo’s, and the brief times they’d been forced together, they had found some sort of neutrality.
“Hey,” Logan said awkwardly, sliding into the booth, replacing Milo’s broad shoulders. They took up space in such different ways.
Logan was dressed for his last day of interviews in a shirt, a belt, and shiny shoes he used to reserve for weddings. Now she imagined they saw plenty of action in office buildings with equally glaring floors.
“Morning,” she said, careful to assume he was there with good intentions, as much as she didn’t want to.
She stared, waiting for him to speak.
“How’s your week been?”
“Not bad,” she said, and she wanted to tell him it was fucking incredible, but that would be selfish of her. Cruel even.
“I’m really sorry,” he started. “I know that half our conversations lately have started with me apologizing, but I feel like things are so weird between us, and I just would love it if we could patch them up before I’m back in New York.”
“I know,” she sighed. “And I also know that I haven’t exactly made things easier for either of us.” Logan’s face softened with the relief that she was willing to take on even one iota of the blame. “I don’t want to watch Sara and Matty get married across from someone I hate.”
“I don’t want that either. At all. The last few days have been hard. I didn’t realize how much I missed the four of us together, you know?”
“I do. We used to have a great time.”
Logan winced. “I hate that I ruined it all.”
She chuckled a little. “Yeah, me too. But for the record, I think it was the right thing to do. We had so much growing up to do.”
Logan nodded. “Hanna, I have to ask you something, and I need you to just be honest with me.” She knew what he was going to ask before his lips parted. Jealousy sizzled between them like lightning before thunder. “Is there something happening between you and Milo?”
“No,” she said. “I told you. We’re just friends.”
Which would be the truth, as of Sunday morning, even if she’d just kissed him goodbye before work like they were three years of marriage and a kid on the way into a relationship.
“Okay,” he said. His eyes darted across the diner, searching for anything but her.
“Okay,” she shrugged.
“It just seems like you guys have a thing.”
Hanna hung her head forward. “Do we really need to do ten more rounds of this?”
“You’re right,” he said, reaching for her coffee. She slapped his hand away. “I’m sorry.”
She couldn’t help herself. “How’s Sloane, by the way?”
Logan looked out the window. “Fine.”
“Great!” Hanna chirped. “Was there anything else?”
“No,” he said, flipping a menu down from the end of the table. “You down to grab breakfast? It would be good civility practice for the wedding.”
“Fine.” She rolled her eyes. Logan and Matty were so similar sometimes—they couldn’t go fifteen minutes without food. She’d already eaten with Milo, but she could attempt to be a grown up with Logan.
“You wanna tell me more about New York?”
He winced. “Are you sure you want to hear about it?”
“Yeah, I do. I’ve never been,” she reminded him.
“Well,” Logan started. “It loses the ‘wow, this is just like the movies’ charm pretty quickly, but the food is incredible.”
She listened to him talk about all his favorite places to eat for the next forty-five minutes, and then they went their separate ways, and she only felt a little guilty about lying to him.
ALWAYS ANSWER
You know what’s hot?
HANNA
This fucking stadium.
ALWAYS ANSWER
Yes.
And knowing that I’m only three innings away from tearing my own shirt off of you.
HANNA
Hmm. That’s awfully presumptuous.
ALWAYS ANSWER
Says the woman who woke me up with her mouth around my dick this morning.
HANNA
What was I supposed to do? Wake up with your morning wood in my ass and not do something about it?
ALWAYS ANSWER
I was dreaming of you.
“Always Answer?” Sara hissed next to her.
“Shit,” she muttered, jumping as she shoved her phone in her pocket, suddenly very interested in the line for the bathroom.
“Hanna!”
“It’s nothing, just a bit of flirting,” she muttered.
“Are you guys sexting? At a baseball game?”
Hanna forced a laugh as she pulled her hair into a ponytail.
“Is it my fault if America’s pastime gets me going? It’s the pants. So tight!”
Sara picked at her nailbed. “I know it’s not my business and we’re being very cool about all of this, but—”
Hanna held up a hand. “Ask yourself if you want to be the secret keeper here.”
She considered that for a moment as the line moved two steps forward.
“Maybe not.”
“Okay.”
“Okay,” she agreed. “But is Always Answer as good in bed as I think he is?”
Hanna blushed again, miserable, but unwilling to lie to her the way she’d lied to Logan.
“Better.”
“Damn, Hanna.”
She swallowed. “I know.”
Sara scoffed. “Best of luck, babe.”
“You guys want one more drink?” Matty asked, stumbling down the street after what felt like forty-five innings.
“Let’s do it,” Milo said. He grinned like a kid who just overheard their mom suggest eating out.
“You’re going to hate yourself tomorrow,” Hanna laughed. While he drank often, he never really drank heavily, and seeing his eyes clouded over amused her.
“I could do one more,” Logan muttered, pushing past them.
Matty led them into a small, crowded bar and came back with a myriad of things, some of which they ordered, some of which they didn’t.
“Cheers,” Milo said, clinking his glass against hers.
“What are we toasting to?’ Sara asked.
“To releasing the old,” Milo slurred, sloshing beer over the edge of his cup. “And… embracing… whatever, you guys get it.”
“Can we get a pitcher of water, please?” Hanna asked the server as she scooted by.
“Good idea,” Milo mumbled. “You’re so smart.”
“And you’re so drunk,” Hanna said, leaning across the high top and patting his head. His eyes narrowed, and she knew she’d tripped a wire. She shook her head. Not there. Not feet from Logan. “Down, boy,” she whispered.
“Don’t do that,” he said, not nearly as quietly as she needed him to. “That is a gateway drug.”
“You’re pathetic.”
“Don’t act like you’re not into it,” he laughed and leaned a little too far back, slipping off the barstool.
“Jesus,” Sara huffed under her breath. She tossed Hanna a warning look.
“Okay,” Hanna sighed, pulling his forearm. “I think it’s time to get you home.”
He shook his head. “No way! I’m fine. But you should stop spinning. It’s a little disorienting.”
She squeezed her eyes closed, trying not to laugh. “Aw, buddy.”
“Do you need help?” Matty asked. “I just ordered wings.”
“Wings sound so good,” Milo whined.
Hanna shook her head, her ponytail swinging as Milo tracked it.
“I will get you food. You need to get up four floors before you need to be carried.”
“Will you please text me when you get home?” Sara asked, wrapping her arms around Hanna. “If you have time.”
Hanna rolled her eyes but dropped a kiss on her cheek before turning to Milo, who seemed to be in a constant state of swaying.
“Come on, big guy.”
Milo stumbled next to her for two blocks before the evening breeze reinvigorated him.
“I’m sorry,” he said, still soft around the sounds. “I don’t usually get drunk. I try not to anyway.”
“I owe you one.” Hanna fell back to that dive bar in Phoenix, trying not to get lost in those dimples.
Milo smirked. “True. You were so mean to me that night.” He bumped his shoulder into hers under the streetlight.
Hanna protested. “Only for the first few minutes!”
“No one can resist my charms for long, Arizona.”
She laughed as he pulled on the end of her ponytail. “Diner coffee and pie, or cold leftover pasta?”
Milo stumbled over a crack in the street. “You pick.”
“Pie,” she said, leading him into the diner. The server appeared next to their favorite table with two glasses of water and a fresh pot of coffee.
“Can we get a slice of the French silk and… a…” She looked over the list on the handwritten menu above the counter. “Ah, lemon meringue.”
“Be right back,” she said.
Milo leaned his head against the laminate table. He mumbled from under his elbow.
“You study me, too.”
“You ordered the lemon last time we stumbled in here with Chloe.”
He was silent for a second, and then whispered, “I think you like me a little more than you wanted to.”
Hanna’s face heated, completely caught off guard. “Um—” It wasn’t that she was surprised. The feelings didn’t sneak up. But she was surprised to hear him acknowledge it.
“Don’t make it weird. I definitely like you more than I should.”
“Can you at least look at me while you drunkenly confess shit?” He picked his head up off the table, and no, no, he could not look at her. He couldn’t even locate her. “Oh, god, you’re a goner.”
“Nothing pie can’t heal.”
“Let us pray,” she groaned as two plates hit the table.
The lemon meringue did some heavy lifting. Halfway through his slice, he was at least able to look her in the eye, though he still wasn’t fully online.
“I want to go home, lie next to you in bed, and pass out so fucking hard, Hanna.”
“Done and done,” she agreed and paid their tab, dragging him across the street and into the elevator. When the doors closed, he slumped against the wall, half asleep as they raced toward their floor.
His floor. Not our floor, she reminded herself.
He reached for her, a gesture she wasn’t about to ignore, and she leaned into him.
“I mean it, Arizona, I like you too much.”
She nodded against his chest, the dread of the sentiment all too familiar.
“I know.”
“And you like me too much.”
“I do,” she whispered.
They stayed quiet as they stripped off their shoes and jeans. She flopped into his bed in just his Giants T-shirt and he fell over her, nuzzling into her neck.
“You should wear that sundress on our date tomorrow,” he mumbled into her skin. She twisted so his arms draped over her, and she lay flush against him. “The one you wore at the engagement party.”
“Anything you want, Milo.”
SIXTEEN
“And then he asked you on a date?” Olivia asked, her infuriating pen moving far too quickly across the page.
