9. Maddox

NINE

"I know several teams have their eye on Max Lovelace for first-round drafts next April," the sportscaster says about my little brother.

I keep listening to the TV but pull up the location for Petals again.

There's something about all this that just doesn't make sense.

Why would Hannah work at this dinky shop for so many years, then leave for HOP U for only one week before returning?

She never struck me as the irresponsible or rash type. She wouldn't have done all the work to get admitted, move, and get a job on campus, just to leave.

I slap my phone down onto my thigh.

Why am I obsessing about this?

She's just some woman I used to know.

I force my eyes to the TV screen. But I only make it a few minutes before I pick my phone back up and send the link with the business name and location to Waller.

Me: Do me a favor?

Waller: If you want me to send you roses, you can just ask.

Me: If I have to ask…

Waller: You getting drunk without me?

Me: No. But it's not a bad idea.

Waller: I'm out of town, so you'll have to drink alone tonight. But I can send the flowers if it'll make you feel better.

I snort. Waller can be an idiot, but there's a reason we've stayed friends since our days playing for HOP U. Even while playing for rival teams, we always stayed in touch. And now, we both ended up retired in Minnesota. Me because I grew up here, him because he visited and fell in love.

Me: I can buy my own flowers. I need you to look into the business. Background shit.

Waller: I suppose solar energy and floral arrangements could go together.

Me: Why am I friends with you?

Waller: Because I'm so pretty.

I laugh out loud.

Me: My left foot is prettier than you.

It's not true. With wavy hair and defined features, Waller's never had trouble getting attention.

Me: One of my employees worked there for a long time, and I have some questions.

I should just tell him who. It's probably been a decade since he's heard me talk about her, but I'm sure he'd remember.

But for some reason, I'm not ready to tell him.

Mostly because he'll ask questions I don't have answers to.

And his first question will be asking if I'm going to go after her.

My gut reaction is yes. But my heart reaction is no. And my brain reaction reminds me there's a no-fraternizing policy at my company. A policy I made sure was in place when I first joined the industry to keep employees from hitting on me.

Waller: On it.

Me: Thanks.

It's not that late, but I'm exhausted and ready to be done with this day.

Picking the remote up, I turn off the large TV mounted over the fireplace and stand from my couch.

My knees twinge, mirroring the ache in my back, but after a few steps, they loosen up.

The plate from my dinner is already in the dishwasher, so I grab my glass of water off the island and turn off the kitchen lights.

I flip off the rest of the lights as I head to the main stairway, but moonlight shines through the uncovered windows, illuminating my way.

At the top of the steps, I turn right toward the owner's suite.

The other direction houses the rarely used guest suites.

I step through the open double doors into my bedroom and leave them open. There's no one here, so there's no need to close doors behind me.

My bed is unmade, how I left it, and I strip as I cross the room.

Naked, I walk into the attached bathroom and through to my walk-in closet.

After selecting a clean pair of boxers, I pull them on, then go back into the bathroom to brush my teeth.

The routine is second nature, and while I run through it, my mind wanders back to Hannah.

It stays on her as I spit my toothpaste into the sink.

It stays on her as I exit my bathroom and cross to my bed.

And I can't stop thinking about her as I pull the blankets into place.

With my arms spread out across the mattress, I think about that one night we had together. How I lay down just like this, on a bed made of benches, and how she curled up into my side. How her little hand looked on my chest, and how I could feel the warmth of her thigh as she hitched it up over mine.

I close my eyes and think about my Hannah Bunny.

How the first three times I saw her, she ran away. Like a scared little bunny.

And I think about her hiding today.

How she's still running from me. Acting like I'm a stranger.

But no matter how much time has passed, we're not strangers.

Maybe I need to remind her of who I am.