60. Maddox

SIXTY

I can't stop pacing my living room as I wait for Hannah to arrive.

She's not late, I'm just anxious. Even though I don't know what I have to be anxious about. She's not going to disappear on her way over.

My footsteps halt.

Hannah wouldn't disappear by choice. But…

I shake my head and start pacing again, faster this time.

When I first got my driver's license, my mom was a basket case any time I left the house, going on and on about thinking I died in a crash if I was two minutes late getting home. I always thought she was just being dramatic, but I get it now. Because I'm suddenly thinking of all the possible worst-case scenarios that could befall Hannah on her drive over here.

Instead of crossing the living room again, I stride to the front entryway and open the door.

I want to see her the second she arrives.

I'm not even through the door when I see her coming up the driveway.

My pulse decelerates to its originally anxious speed.

Hannah slows her car to a stop in front of the house, and I move down the steps to meet her.

She cuts the engine, and I watch her grab something off the passenger seat before climbing out of her car.

My eyes drop to the bag in her hand.

It's not a purse.

It's an overnight bag.

Heat sizzles through my veins, frying all the previous worry.

My girl is here.

I close the distance between us.

Reaching out, I wrap my fingers around the front of her throat and hold her in place. "Hi, Bunny."

Her throat moves with a swallow against my palm. "Hi—"

My lips find hers. I can't wait another moment.