by Anne Jolin
I am sitting cross-legged on the couch when Kai’s house phone starts to ring. I get up and make my way into the kitchen to get the portable phone, checking the caller ID. O. Rhodes. It’s my parents’ home number. I haven’t talked to them since everything had happened. I only texted them to let them know I was going to visit Kai for a few weeks and wouldn’t have my phone.
I click the talk button and put the phone to my ear. “Hey. It’s Hannah.”
“Hi, honey.” My mother’s voice sweeps through the phone and I immediately feel homesick.
I walk back over to the couch and sit down. I’m still in my pajamas and it’s the middle of the day. I’m really not taking the breakup well. I look like shit. “What’s up mom?” I ask. It is odd for her to be calling during the day—on a work day no less.
“Oh, you know, not much, honey. Just doing some laundry and taking care of a few things around the house. The office was slow today, so I came home early. What have you been up too?” she questions.
I look down at myself and sigh. Telling my mom that I haven’t worn real clothes in days probably wouldn’t ease her mind. She called to check on me, no doubt. I’m not exactly the type of daughter to up and leave with just a text. I am surprised she’s lasted this long without calling. My best guess is that she’s been keeping tabs on me through Kai.
“Not much,” I say weakly.I can hear her sigh on the other end of the line. Then there’s a long pause. “Mom?” She is kind of starting to freak me out. Mom is just like me—a chatter box, a waterfall. She is never this quiet. “Mom?” I ask again.
“Do you love him, honey?” she says, her voice soft.
“Do I love who, Mom?” She is being so vague and I am confused as to what the heck she is talking about.
“Greyson. Do you love him?”
Well, there goes my hope that no one had told her about what happened. I really should have known better though. Nothing gets past Anna Rhodes.
I don’t even hesitate before I answer her. “Yes, I love him.” I don’t embellish or dress it up. It’s just the plain truth. I love him.
“Then you should forgive him,” she says in a matter-of-fact voice.
I put my head in my hands. “You don’t even know what happened.”
“I don’t need to know what happened, honey. If you love him and he loves you, you can figure out the rest later on… But Hannah, you can’t figure that out if you’re halfway across the country. You need to work through this together. You can’t run away because it scared you.”
“I’m not running away, Mom. I just…” I start to argue with her when the realization hits me like a ton of bricks. That’s exactly what I did. I ran away.
I kept telling myself that that wasn’t it, but at the end of the day, I got scared, I panicked, and I ran. I did exactly what I’d been telling Greyson not to do. Instead of waiting for him to cool off and communicating with me, I took my wounded pride across Canada and shacked up at my brother’s house.
“Oh my God.” I don’t even realize I’ve spoken out loud until I hear my mom answer me.
“All the best things in life are worth fighting for, Hannah,” she says, and I can feel her smile through the phone even though I can’t see it.
A sob escapes my lips, and this time, I don’t try and stop it. It’s not from sadness. It’s from overwhelming relief. The relief that I’ve finally found what I came here looking for. I finally know what I am going to do.
“I’m coming home, Mom,” I gasp out as the tears slide down my face.
“I figured as much, honey. Go get him.”
I know it seems silly that a small conversation with my mom could bring on such overwhelming clarity and emotion, but it has.
“I love you,” I say to her.
“I love you too, sweet girl,” she says and hangs up the phone.
As soon as I hear the dial tone, I hang up and punch in a familiar number. She picks up on the second ring, no doubt figuring that it’s me calling from Kai’s house.
“Hannah,” Beth says, sounding worried. “I just talked to you last night. What’s wrong? Is everything okay?”
“I’m coming home, Beth. I’m coming back to fight for him,” I say confidently. The quiver in my voice is gone now. I don’t feel weak. I feel determined.
The relief in her voice is palpable. “Oh, Han, I’m so happy for you!” she squeals into the phone.
I make our conversation brief, letting her know that I’ll text her from Kai’s phone with the flight information once I’m booked. I’m still not turning on my phone. I don’t want anything to deter me from marching straight up to his front door and telling him that I’m here whether he likes it or not. She sounds happy, and I make her promise to fill Lennon in on everything before we say our goodbyes and I hang up the phone. I pull out Kai’s laptop and begin searching for flights home. The earliest one is tomorrow morning, and I book my ticket before I start packing my bags.
Loving Greyson might be like walking into a burning building, but that burning building is my home. My heart is in there with him, and I am going home to get it.
IT TOOK ALMOST the entire two weeks, but I am ready. I am finally fucking ready for my girl to come home. When Beth called me yesterday night to tell me that Hannah was coming home the next day, I was so happy that I didn’t sleep the entire night. These last two weeks without her have been hell. I miss her so much that I feel like my chest is going to break in two. Beth, Lennon, and I have worked tirelessly while she’s been gone. We’ve moved every single one of Hannah’s things out of girls’ house and into mine. My girl has a lot of shit. I am done living without her—literally and figuratively.
I’ve been dicking around for way too long, letting my fear of breaking hearts keep me from committing to my girl the way I wanted to. Fear of breaking hearts—what a fucking joke! Beth helped me find a counselor in town, and when I wasn’t moving shit into the house, I was having sessions. We’ve worked through a lot of my issues, but I still have a lot of healing to do. As much as I’m doing it to show my girl that I am trying, I’m also doing it for me. I am tired of living this way—all fucked up and scared. I wanted to change; I needed to change.
“Fuck,” I say, checking the time on the dashboard. I’ve been so lost in my thoughts that I didn’t notice how long I’ve been sitting in the truck for.
I left early to pick up flowers before heading to the airport, but the main highway in town is an absolute clusterfuck, barely moving at all. Of course there’s no traffic in this tiny-ass town any other day of the week, but on the day I’m going to get my girl, it’s at a fucking standstill. Her plane is landing in a little over twenty minutes and I’ll be damned if I am going to be late.
I pull Bagheera up onto the curb, flying past the sea of parked cars. It may have been a complete jackass thing to do, but I am chasing my girl, and this time when I catch her, I am never fucking letting her go.
THE FLIGHT HOME feels like it takes for fucking ever. I guess it always feels like that when you’re coming home, I think to myself and then smile. I am coming home. I got up early this morning and spent time on my appearance for the first time in two weeks. I hadn’t thought to bring any of my hair products with me, so I let my long hair dry in natural waves down my back. Luckily, one of the girls had packed all of my makeup and my tweezers. God bless those girls, because after two weeks of no attention, my eyebrows needed some serious help. I put on black mascara and a little bit of blush, not wanting to overdo it because I never wear that much makeup anyway. I am wearing one of the few nicer outfits I brought with me. And by nice, I mean that it doesn’t make me look entirely homeless. I am wearing a pair of cut-off denim shorts that are frayed slightly at the ends, a loose-fitting, green tank top, and a beige sweater—one of those big, comfy ones that feels like a blanket. Planes are always cold.
I pick up my checked luggage at the carousel and make my way towards the arrivals section of the airport—the section where family, friends, and loved ones a
re always waiting eagerly for the person visiting or coming home to walk through the doors. It is silly, but sometime during the flight, I let a romantic movie scene play out in my head where Greyson is waiting for me at the arrival gate. The scene even came equipped with its own soundtrack. I know the possibility is slim, but as I walk through the sliding doors, I search for him anyway. The older couple in front of me is greeted by their two teenage children, and the guy to my left is nearly been taken out by his girlfriend as she comes barreling through the crowd to get to him.
I shouldn’t let myself get upset. I know that I didn’t tell him I was coming home and that Beth said that she was going to pick me up. It is ridiculous to think that he’d be here, but regardless, I can’t help but feel disappointed anyway. I guess that kind of shit really does only happen in movies and romance novels.
I move past the stream of people greeting their loved ones and look for Beth. I can’t see her anywhere. Maybe she’s waiting outside? I think. The airport in Rock Falls is pretty small, and sometimes, parking can be a bitch. Often, we’d just drop off or pick people up right outside instead of trying to find parking in the overpriced parkade.
After waiting for a little while longer, I figure that must be what she’s doing. I roll my suitcase towards the exit, digging through my purse to find my Aviators. I walk out of the sliding double doors, still not having found my sunglasses, and lift my head to look for Beth. I suck in a breath and immediately start running.
Parked on the curb outside the airport is the biggest black truck I’ve ever seen, and leaning against it with his arms crossed is my Hunnam. I get about halfway to him before I drop everything I am carrying and break into a full sprint. He is walking towards me, and as we reach each other, I fling myself into his arms, nearly tackling him to the ground. I wrap my legs around his waist and my arms around his neck, crashing my lips onto his. I kiss him with every emotion I’ve felt in the last weeks—anger, loss, regret, longing, and confusion. But most of all, I kiss him with every ounce of love I have inside me. His fingers push into my hair and he licks the seam of my lips. I open them for him and he thrusts his tongue inside. When I finally pull away, I am out of breath.
He lays his forehead to mine and gives me another soft kiss on my lips before speaking. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I fucked up royally. The last thing I ever wanted in this world was to hurt you. I love you. Please forgive me,” he lets out in one long breath. I can feel his heart pounding in his chest. He’s nervous.
“I never should have left,” I say, running my fingers through his hair. “I got scared and I ran. I should have stayed and fought for us, but I’m fighting now.” I pull his mouth down to mine and kiss him with all the love I have in my heart. “I came home, Greyson. I came home for you. I love you too.” Tears are running down my cheeks now, and he reaches up to wipe them away with the pads of his thumbs.
“I missed you so much my heart fucking hurt,” he whispers softly.
I cup his face in my hands. “Me too.”
“I’m so happy you came home, sweetheart,” he says, running his hands through my hair.
“You are my home, Greyson. I’ll always come home to you,” I whisper back.
He laughs nervously. “Well I was kind of hoping you’d say that,” he says, setting me back down onto the pavement and reaching into his pocket. “Close your eyes, sweetheart. I have another surprise for you.”
My heart is beating wildly in my chest as I close my eyes. A moment later, I feel him slip something around my neck before he kisses me on the lips.
“Open your eyes, Hannah.”
I open my eyes and look down, seeing a silver key on a long chain lying on my chest. I pick it up, laying it in the palm of my hand, and stare at him confused. Uhm… This is a weird surprise. I’m trying to find a way to say thank you for the strange gift when he starts to chuckle again and my heart constricts at the sound. I missed that laugh.
“It’s not a necklace, sweetheart. Well, it can be if you want it to be.” He smiles nervously again. “It’s a key to my—I mean, our—house,” he stutters before straightening his spine and looking me in the eyes. “I never want to spend another night without you in my arms. Hannah Lynn Rhodes, will you move in with me?”
I throw my arms back around his neck and he lifts me off the ground. “Yes, Hunnam, I’ll move in with you.” I giggle and we kiss again.
He pulls away. All nervousness has left him, and he gives me his best panty-melting smile. “I’m not sure what I would have done if you said no.” I cock an eyebrow and him and he laughs. “I already moved all your things in while you were gone.”
I toss my head back and laugh. My bossy alpha. “Take me home, Hunnam.”
“As you wish, sweetheart.”
IT’S DECEMBER, A little over three months since Greyson and I moved in together. Or should I say since he moved all my stuff in for me. He’s still going to counseling and making great progress. He has some days that are harder than others, but it’s on those days that I am even prouder of him. Lennon bought me out of my half of the condo, and Peyton, a girl she works with who we’ve all grown close to, moved into my old room a little over a month ago. There is at least a few feet of snow on the ground outside, and we’ve just gotten home from picking out our Christmas tree at the lot. Rhodeses don’t do fake trees. Greyson just finished setting it up in the living room and we’re going to decorate it before everyone comes over for dinner. Since I moved out, we’ve all been getting together once a month for dinner. The holidays are always busy, and this way, we don’t miss out on seeing our friends.
I was pulling out the rest of the boxes when Greyson stands behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist. “I told you not to go into the attic to get those, sweetheart. I could have done it when I’d finished with the tree,” he says, nipping at my ear.
“I’m not useless, Greyson. I can climb up a ladder and pull down some boxes.” I sigh, shaking my head. He is so overprotective of me sometimes.
“I’m well aware you aren’t useless, Hannah,” he says, moving my hair out of the way so he can kiss my neck. “In fact, I know just how useful you are.” He moves one of his hands up to cup my breast and I moan. He undoes the button on my jeans and slips his other hand down the front, cupping my pussy.
“Please,” I whimper as he slides two fingers inside me.
“You’re soaked, Hannah,” he says, nipping at my neck. “I love that you’re always ready for me.”
We’ve almost been together a year now—one more month—and the sex between us has only gotten hotter. He knows exactly what I like and I know exactly what he likes. I still get hot just looking at him most of the time.
“Oh God, Greyson. Please.” I’m wiggling my ass against his cock. I can feel how hard it is.
“Tell me what you want, sweetheart.” He still loves to make me beg and I still fucking love it.
I reach behind me, turning my head, and crash my mouth onto his, licking and sucking. I moan into his mouth as he starts to bang me harder. “Fuck me, Greyson,” I plead. “I want to feel your cock inside me.”
He growls, pulling his hand from my jeans before hooking his fingers in my belt loops and shoving them to the floor. He grabs my panties in his fist and they practically disintegrate when he rips them off. I started buying less expensive underwear when I realized how often he was ruining them—not that I was complaining.
He bends me over the couch, and before I have time to brace myself, he’s slamming into me all the way to the hilt of his beautiful cock. We are both still entirely clothed and it makes me feel like we’re being naughty. I love when we are both so hot for each other that we can’t even manage to get undressed. He’s fucking me so hard that I can hear his balls slapping on my ass.
“Is this what you wanted, Hannah?” he says, smacking my ass. I clench my pussy walls around him and he groans.
“Harder, Greyson,” I moan, bending farther onto the couch and pushing my ass up in the air.
“You love it when I spank you, don’t you, sweetheart?” He rubs his hand over my bare ass. “Look at you shoving that beautiful ass up in the air. I should punish you for being such a naughty girl,” he says before his palm comes down on me again.
I’m so wet that I can feel it leaking out of me. His dirty talk alone could get me off. He reaches around and starts rubbing my clit.
“Oh God. I’m going to come!” I say, and he pinches down on my clit. I scream out his name. He never stop his unrelenting pace, and it makes the aftershocks of my orgasm last even longer.
“You’re dripping, Hannah,” he growls, and I look over my shoulder to see him watching where are bodies are joined. “I need to taste that sweet pussy before I come inside you,” he says before dropping to his knees and spreading my ass cheeks with his hands. He dips two fingers inside me, and I can feel him circle them around inside me. “Absolutely fucking soaked,” he groans before his tongue starts its assault on me.
I’m shamelessly grinding onto his face as I can feel myself getting closer and closer to falling off the edge into another orgasm. When he adds another finger inside me, I come all over his mouth.
He stands up, smacking me playfully on the ass before sitting down on the couch. “Come here, sweetheart. I want you to ride me.”
I kick my pants off the rest of the way and straddle him. Then I place the tip of his cock at my entrance and sink down on it. He pulls down the front of my shirt and sucks one of my nipples into his mouth. I put my hands on his shoulders for leverage and start to ride him fast and hard. He grips my ass in his hands and screams out my name when he comes.