105. Hannah

ONE HUNDRED FIVE

Walking up to the house, I can see a soft glow coming from Mom's window upstairs, but the rest of the lights in the house are out.

Maddox keeps his hand on my back as I unlock the door.

He held my hand the whole ride home, his fingers clutching mine like I might roll out of the car if he let go.

It was sweet but unnecessary because I wasn't going to let go anyway.

It's only been a couple of weeks since I first saw him in the interview, but those weeks have changed my life.

It should be crazy. Impossible. Unlikely.

And maybe with anyone else, it would be.

But the first time Maddox was in my life, it was just for one week, slightly less. And from that, he consumed my thoughts for years. A decade. More.

Mon Petite Lapin.

I have to swallow as I bend down to take off my shoes.

Since reuniting, Maddox has done nothing to make me doubt his sincerity. But tonight, seeing the wine label. Understanding what it meant. Having the proof of his feelings for me right there, tangible in front of me… it was everything.

It was the solid evidence I needed that he never forgot about me either.

I leave my purse, with the empty container inside, on the bench by the front door and take Maddox's hand again.

Quietly, in the dark, we walk across the living area back to my bedroom.

In my room, I turn on the side lamp and gather my pajamas.

I don't waste time in the bathroom as I go through my nightly routine, and when I return to the room, Maddox is lying on the far side of my bed, facing the door, with the blankets pulled back so I can see he's in his boxers and Henley.

"Comfy?" I ask as I turn off the lamp and climb into bed with him.

"Not yet. Your bed sucks."

I snicker because, compared to his, it's true.

Maddox hooks an arm around my waist and pulls me so my back is to him. "But nothing is more comfortable than sleeping against your warm body."

I wiggle against him, shifting down a few inches so I can use his bicep like a pillow. "Pretty sure you're the warm one in this relationship."

The arm over my waist pulls me snugger against him— his forearm across my stomach, his hand tucking between me and the mattress. "You have those cold girl hands, but you're warm where it counts."

I huff. "Why does that feel like a dirty joke?"

His hips shift behind me. "Hush, woman. If you don't want me fucking you in this squeaky cot, you won't remind me about the heat of your damn mouth right now."

"Cot?" I laugh.

"Bunny, this mattress is sized for children."

"It's a full," I argue.

"So we agree."

I shake my head. "You're being like ‘The Princess and The Pea' right now."

He squeezes me tighter. "I don't know what that means."

I let my eyes close as I snuggle into him farther. "Another book we'll have to read together."

His big body expands behind me as he yawns. "Deal."

"Thanks for inviting me to dinner tonight," I tell him. "It was nice to meet Max and your friends."

"You're welcome." His voice rumbles against me. "I'm glad you could come."

Silence settles around us, and my body relaxes into his.

Sleep creeps in around the edges of my awareness, and I breathe in the scent of him, agreeing that his arms are the most comfortable place on earth.

"Babe?"

"Mm-hmm," I hum.

"Remember when your mom asked why I never got engaged?" His voice rumbles against my back.

"I remember," I whisper.

"Because none of them were you, Hannah." His voice is deep. Gravelly. "I never forgot you. Even when I tried, I never forgot."