96. Hannah

NINETY-SIX

We all shift our drinks around to make room, and the server sets down the final dish.

This restaurant serves food family style, and with any other group, I'd say we ordered too much. But I've seen Maddox eat, and I have a feeling the rest of these guys are the same.

Maddox scoops some of everything onto my plate first, then everyone digs in.

The first bites are delicious.

I've been meaning to try this place out, and I'm happy it's living up to its reputation.

Another forkful, and I have to stop myself from exclaiming how good everything is.

And while Max tells Waller about his summer workouts, I take another sip of wine. It's just as wonderful as everything else, but… I take another sip. It's familiar.

Reaching out, I turn the wine bottle so it's facing me.

My brows furrow.

The design is simple. A thin line borders the square sticker, but along the bottom, that single line leaps up into an outline drawing of a rabbit.

A bunny.

It's clean, almost plain, but I think it's the same one from the office party. The wine I drank a few glasses of but was never close enough to read the label.

I'm close enough now.

And I read the brand.

I read it again.

Mon Petite Lapin.

My little bunny.

Heat floods my chest, and I turn my head to look up at Maddox.

He's looking down at me, his gaze soft. His heart, right there between us for me to see.

"Th-this is your brand?" I whisper to him.

Maddox nods.

I have to swallow. "When?"

When did you name this?

When did you buy a winery and name it after me?

He watches me so closely as he answers. "Ten years ago."

Ten.

The air leaves my lungs.

Ten years ago.

Ten years ago, when I thought Maddox had forgotten all about me.

Ten years ago, when I was hating myself for still thinking about him.

Ten years ago, halfway across the country, Maddox Lovelace invested in a wine company and named it My Little Bunny.

Ten years ago.

I could've had this with him ten years ago.

"Maddox." My voice breaks.

The side of his mouth pulls up, but I can see the worry in his eyes.

He's worried I don't like it. Or that I don't approve.

He's worried. And I need him to know how foolish that is.

I grab his wrist. "Can I talk to you for a moment?"

Maddox nods. "Of course."

I slide my chair back and stand.

Maddox does the same.

"We'll be right back," he tells the table.

I notice Waller glance at the wine bottle, and I know he knows.

That fucking wine bottle.

I slide my hand into Maddox's, and his fingers grip mine.

I've never been to this place before, but there's only one hall— in the far back corner— so I head that way, hoping for a bathroom.