by Lexi Ryan
“I don’t know. Probably. She has most of her memory back.”
Sam gathers Lizzy’s boxes with hers and stacks them in the corner. “What are all these for, anyway?”
“Hanna’s moving,” Liz says. Then she shoots me a look and winces—no doubt my surprise is all over my face. “And she probably wanted to be the one to tell you.”
“Where’s she moving?” I ask. “Someplace without stairs, I hope.”
“No kidding,” Liz mutters. “There are stairs, but she won’t need to use them. I’ll let her fill you in on the details.”
“Is she in the back?” Janelle asks. “I have to talk to her.” Without waiting for an answer or, you know, permission, she pushes through the swinging kitchen door.
Liz and I exchange a worried look before I follow Janelle.
The sounds of squealing women greet my ears as I come through the door. Nate’s nowhere to be seen, and the women are hugging like old friends. I’m reminded of those months of Hanna’s life that I missed. While we were only pretending to be a couple, she was forming new friendships, falling in love with another man…and getting pregnant.
“I am so glad to see you,” Janelle says. “And you remember me, so obviously the important parts of your memory are back.”
Hanna shrugs. “Most of it, but there are still missing pieces.”
“Do you know what caused the accident?”
Hanna shakes her head. “Nix said I probably never will remember that day, unfortunately. What are you doing here? How long are you staying?”
“I had to come see the bakery I’ve heard so much about—and see my idiot brother—but I came here first. Did the lawyers contact you with the news yet?”
“What news?”
“I’m going to buy out your silent partner. Well, assuming he takes my offer, but it was way generous, so I’m sure he will.”
Hanna’s eyes connect with mine over Janelle’s shoulder. The offer didn’t come from Nate. It came from Nate’s sister, a sister who thinks Hanna dumped Nate for me.
“Actually,” Hanna says, “Max is the silent partner.” She nods toward me, and Janelle spins around, her eyes wide.
“Oh. My. God. How romantic is that? Did you know that when you decided to marry him? And I owe you an apology! You know when I called and asked you to go check on Nate, I had no idea about the accident and that you had freaking amnesia. Nate was more interested in tequila than filling me in on the pertinent details, but he told me when he came to the retreat in India.” She shakes her head. “And I’m sorry I had to ask you to do that. Considering the decisions you’d just made, you were probably a terrible person to ask, but I couldn’t think of anyone else he’d listen to.”
Hanna smiles, but it’s forced. “Do you know about my decisions, then?”
“Nothing was official, but you were pretty determined about your choice.”
Hanna’s eyes flick to mine and then back to Janelle. “My choice to marry Max?”
“Of course. Where’s your ring, anyway? Did you set a date yet?” She flashes me a grin over her shoulder then lowers her voice. “He’s so gorgeous, I can’t even. And is that why you’re moving? Are you going to live together?”
“She’s going to live with me.”
The girls turn toward Nate’s voice at the back door, but I don’t turn. Any kernel of hope Janelle’s rambling gave me is crushed. Hanna’s moving in with Nate.
MAX LOOKS to me, Janelle, and finally to Nate. Then he turns on his heel and heads out the door to the front of the bakery. I hear the front bell ring as he exits to the street.
Crap. That’s not how I wanted that to go.
I don’t know how long Nate’s been there, but judging from the look on his face, I’d say it’s fair to say he heard his twin going on about my choice to marry Max.
I hate the idea of hurting either of them, and I’m killing them both.
“I’m not moving in with you.” I stalk toward Nate and prop my hands on my hips. “That was never part of the deal.”
Nate raises a brow. “You really think I’m going to buy a house in this town and then bunk with the newlyweds when I visit?”
“What’s going on?” Janelle asks behind me. “Hanna, I thought you were marrying Max.”
Nate snaps his mouth shut at those words and his jaw ticks.
“I called it off,” I whisper. “Excuse me. I need to go tell Liz to stop packing my stuff.”
I leave, but I don’t go to the front, where I can hear Liz talking to Sam. I climb the stairs to my apartment, shut the door behind me, and sink to the floor.
“She’s moving in with me.”
If only he meant that as it sounded. If only he meant we could be together, a family who lives in the same house in the same town. But he’s committed to another family, and I’m plagued by these questions about a decision I can’t remember making.
“SEE EVERYTHING you miss when you hole up for months without access to the outside world?” I attempt a smile but it falls flat.
Janelle, on the other hand, is having no trouble smiling. In fact, she’s grinning like a madwoman. “It worked!”
“What are you talking about?”
“When I sent her to pull you from your drunken pity party, I was hoping she’d…you know, come to her senses and decide not to marry Max. Of course, I had no idea about the amnesia at the time, and that must have complicated things. But God, you were being such a whiny loser.”
“She chose him,” I growl. “I made a promise to respect that decision and I was trying not to break that promise.”
“What did you promise, exactly? To be a loser who wouldn’t fight for the woman he loves? The only woman in the world who makes him happy?” She attempts a scowl, but it’s washed away by a smile she can’t seem to resist. “But you two are moving in together now, so it’s all good, right?” She frowns. “Or are you? She didn’t seem so sure.”
I drag a hand through my hair. “I bought her a house. I assumed she knew I planned on staying there while I was in town.”
“You bought her a house? And she accepted?” She frowns. “That doesn’t sound anything like Hanna.”
“She’s pregnant.” The words pummel my heart because I know that, if it weren’t for those babies, Hanna would have never agreed to move into a house I bought.
“Get the fuck out. Seriously? And the baby is yours?”
“Babies,” I correct. “Twins. I bought her a house so she’d have someplace safe to raise them since she won’t leave New Hope.”
“Of course she’s not leaving. Who the hell wants to live in LA? You’re going to have to move out here. It’ll be good for you.”
“I’m not leaving Collin. I’ll just have to visit here as much as I can.”
“You can’t make a life with someone by ‘visiting’ them.”
“Then I guess it’s lucky that she doesn’t want a life with me,” I mutter.
“You’re so sure about that?”
“Where have you been?” I glare at her. “You were just standing there, telling her all about how she chose Max.”
“You’re kidding me, right?” She points to the door where Hanna left. “She’s pregnant with your babies. Stop letting your fear of rejection rule you. You love that girl, and she loves you.”
“And she loves Max.” She chose Max. Part of me never believed it. Part of me wanted another explanation for that ring being on her finger when she woke up.
Janelle grabs my shoulders. “When she chose Max, it had as much to do with trying to give you the life you wanted as it did with loving him.”
“How do you know that?”
“We’re friends,” she says. “We talk. Man up and fight for her.” Silence pulses between us, and when I meet her eyes, she looks as sad as I feel. As if she just realized she lost a battle she thought she won.
“I can’t leave Collin.”
“I get that you want to be Dad of the Year. We had the same asshole father, remember? But what�
�s better for your son than seeing his dad with someone who makes him happy? You’re going to stand there and tell me you think Collin’s better off with the miserable lump you become when Hanna’s not in your life? Better off with a dad who gets drunk every time his kid’s not around because nothing else about his life is worth staying sober for? Make him see that Dad’s worthy of love and happiness, and when he’s an adult, he’ll believe the same of himself.”
I shrug her hands off my shoulders and turn away. Fuck. I need a drink. But seeing as how it’s not even nine a.m., I opt for a deep breath instead. “What if I’m not worthy?” My voice breaks on the question. I might as well be a pubescent boy—Hanna makes me feel about that vulnerable.
“You really think he might be better for her?” Janelle asks, and I don’t answer because if I didn’t believe that, I would have fought for her from the first.
Four Days After Hanna’s Accident
I’M HALF lost in Asher’s song when I see Hanna coming down the stairs with her sisters. The sight of her catches me off guard and makes me miss a whole verse. She’s grinning and beautiful, her legs on display in that sexy-as-fuck jean skirt. Happiness radiates off her as if she doesn’t have a care in the world. As if she didn’t just break my heart.
Asher narrows his eyes at me, and I tear my gaze away from Hanna and find my place in the music, hide behind lyrics and harmony like I have most of my life.
Asher transitions into “Unbreak Me,” and I follow, harmonizing as he sings to his woman. When the song’s over, he leaves the stage to kiss the shit out of Maggie, and jealousy rips through me. I’ve always appreciated what they have, but I’ve never been jealous of it. I never thought I could have it for myself, so I didn’t bother with wanting it. But then there was Hanna.
I start playing her favorite song before I realize what I’m doing, and when I lift my gaze to hers, she’s looking at me, and I’ll be damned if I don’t understand a single emotion on her face. I should have seen this coming. She hasn’t answered my calls or texts since our fight in LA. Then, when I got her message saying she hoped we could talk when I got to town, I assumed the best.
But she chose him and didn’t even have the courtesy to warn me, and now she’s looking at me like my mere existence confuses her.
It hurts too much to look at her. She’s everything I want and can’t have. She’s everything I would turn my world around for, and I fucked it up.
So I refocus on my song and the lyrics she loves so much.
I’m nobody’s hero, baby. Try not to fall too deep.
I’m nobody’s angel, love, but you were crying in your sleep.
I’m useless, empty, nothing, sugar. Wait around and then you’ll see.
You thought you’d find your answers, but now you’re lost in me.
I wrote this song for Vivian before Collin was born. She wasn’t in love with me. She was in love with the idea of me. And then she got pregnant and was tied to me—a man who was nothing like the man she deserved. Not so unlike Hanna.
My throat grows thick, but I swallow back the emotion and lift my head to watch her as I sing the last verse. I’m almost surprised when she keeps her gaze locked on mine—that same pain and confusion in her eyes that I saw earlier.
I end the song and leave the makeshift stage. I can’t do this. I can’t pretend I’m not in love with her. I can’t pretend she didn’t steal my heart and throw it away.
Up the stairs and out the back door, I find myself heading down to the river that runs behind Asher’s house. I have to leave, because if I stay, I’ll drink, and if I drink, I’ll drag her into my bedroom and beg her to reconsider. If I drink, I’ll break the only promise I ever had the courage to make to her.
To think I climbed into her bed last night, ready to promise so much more.
“Stop!” The sound of Hanna’s voice stalls my feet, and for a moment, I dare to hope she’s following me to tell me she’s changed her mind. “Who are you?”
I wince and then turn to her. “Is that supposed to be funny? Pretending there was nothing between us wasn’t enough? You need to pretend you don’t even know who I am?” And fuck fuck fuck, this hurts. Did I really let myself believe it could work out differently? That she might choose me? That, for once, I’d be first choice and not the castoff?
“I—I don’t know who you are,” she says slowly. “But maybe I should? I was injured and I have amnesia, so I honestly don’t know you.”
What the hell? “Amnesia? You’re kidding me.” I take a step forward, remembering the bruises I saw at her apartment last night.
“I’m not.” She holds up a hand to stop me. “I’d prefer you to stay over there. Please.”
“Amnesia.” Please God, let this mean she didn’t choose him.
“Yeah.”
“You don’t know who I am.”
“I don’t know who you are or why you would crawl into my bed in the middle of the night. I don’t understand why—” Her eyes fill and tears stream down her cheeks. Tears I’m desperate to kiss away. I just want to hold her, to whisper in her ear until her body relaxes in my arms. “I don’t understand,” she repeats.
“You don’t remember anything?” God, what are the odds? “Do you know who you are?”
“Yeah. I remember everything up until about a year ago, but the last eleven months are just…gone.”
Which means every single moment with me is gone. I drag a hand through my hair and exhale slowly as I try to wrap my head around this new information.
“Do I know you?” she asks.
Better than anyone else in the whole world. “Yeah. You do.” My chest is tight and my throat thick, but I take a chance and say, “I’m the idiot who’s in love with you.”
“But I’m engaged.”
“I saw that.” I look to her hand again, and again, that damn ring is staring back at me. But maybe… “Can I ask? Did that happen before or after the amnesia?”
Her tongue darts out to wet her lips. “Before.”
Any hope her amnesia story gave me deflates just like that. “Fuck.”
I hold her gaze for a minute, wishing her memories back. I need Hanna, my Hanna, whole, complete, and with her memories—if not for forever, then for the goodbye her injury stole from me.
I’m the one who looks away. “I’ve gotta get out of here, Han.”
“Please, tell me what happened. What did I do?” she whispers. “I don’t understand.”
I shrug, but I don’t look at her again. I can’t. It’s already too hard to breathe. “What’s there to understand? You’re wearing his ring.”
When I rejoin the party in the basement, Asher narrows his eyes at me then looks at the stairs and back to me. He must have seen Hanna follow me out. I just shrug and head to the bar.
I’ve been seeing Hanna for three months, and the only people who know about it are Hanna, my sister Janelle, and Jamaal. I was just the rebound guy, and she didn’t want anyone to know. I had no idea how much I could regret such a secret. Would she be engaged to Max now if he knew she spent her summer naked in hotel rooms with me?
I turn to the bar and reach for the tequila. I stop because it reminds me of Hanna. Of the first night we met and the day we made love. I snag a beer instead and lean against the wall to drink.
A clean-cut guy in a navy dress shirt sidles up to me. “I’m Sam, a friend of Asher’s,” he says.
“Nice to meet you, Sam.” He offers his hand. I shake it reluctantly. I’m really not in the mood. “Nate Crane.”
“See that blonde over there?” Sam says, nodding his head to the side.
Liz, Hanna’s twin, stands beside Maggie, sneaking glances at me and giggling. From the way she’s looking at me, it’s fair to say Hanna never told her about what is—was—between us. Never told her twin and best friend in the world. This should tell me something about just how much I meant to her.
“She’s got her eye on you,” Sam says. “But she’s mine. I just want that to be clear.”
I raise a brow. “Isn’t that hers to decide?”
Sam just grins. “Oh yeah, and she will. Don’t worry.”
I shrug. “No problem, man.” Not that I’d go near her anyway. Maybe some guys like that kind of revenge, and God knows that, if Hanna had her memories, nothing would hurt her more than my sleeping with her twin. But no matter how battered my heart, I’d sooner shoot off a testicle than hurt her like that.
Asher waves me back over to the stage, and I go reluctantly. Better if I don’t let on about my broken heart.
“How about this,” he says as I sit down.
I take the paper from his hands and study the lyrics. Then I grab the pencil and make some modifications. “I love it. Wanna try—” The words get lost because Hanna’s on the stairs again, her eyes locked with mine.
She turns around and jogs back up the stairs as if she can’t bear to be this close to me. When I look back to Asher, he’s watching me. He saw the way we were looking at each other. He knows me.
Pretending the silent exchange between Hanna and me didn’t just happen, I jot down the last line of the chorus and hand the paper to Asher.
He sighs. “Your lyrics suck today.”
“Thanks.”
His eyes go back to the stairs as if asking if Hanna’s the reason, but I play dumb.
I have to get away from this fucking party, from Asher’s knowing eyes asking questions I don’t have the right to answer. I head upstairs to call Janelle, but my phone isn’t in the basket where I left it. Before I can think where it might have gone, I spot Hanna on the patio, my phone in her hands, and I’m instantly moving in her direction. She’s staring at the screen, scrolling through something, and I hope to God it’s our text messages. I want her to see. I want her to remember.
Her cheeks are flushed and her lips are parted, and when she lifts her head, she pulls in this little gasp. It sounds so much like the noise she makes when I put my mouth between her legs that my fucking cock goes hard.
“See anything good?” I ask.
Her pink cheeks turn crimson. “Why would I risk everything?”