28. Maddox

TWENTY-EIGHT

MADDOX

The way she reads is almost lyrical.

Her soft voice rises and falls with the emotions in the words. She makes it a… production.

The chapters have melded together, the story coming to life through her telling of it. And I know I won't be able to read the rest of the book alone. I'm going to need her to do this with me every week. Hell, every day.

Hannah turns the page, and I slide my eyes away from the words on the paper and focus on her hand.

The way it cradles the book.

The way she slowly slides her thumb down the edge of the page, tracking her progress.

Then I think about the way her fingers felt in my hair. On my chest. Pressing against my bare stomach.

My dick twitches in my jeans.

To be fair to my dick, he's been dying for attention since I pulled her onto my lap. Since he felt the heat of her. But he'll have to wait a bit longer.

I tip my head to the side and rub my cheek against her shoulder.

Her huff of laughter causes me to smile. And sitting here, in the library study room, I wonder if maybe this is it. If I've found my girl. My ride or die.

She keeps reading, but my mind moves away from the wronged sailor to my future.

I want to play pro ball.

I want to make my family proud.

I want my little brother, Maximus, the six-year-old terror, to be able to count on me. And I want him to keep telling everyone that when he grows up, he'll be the quarterback on my team— even though I'll probably be retired by then.

And I want to do all of those things with a partner at my side.

A woman.

Hannah turns another page.

Maybe this woman.

The light in the room changes, and Hannah's shoulder shifts beneath my cheek as she lifts her head to look out the window.

My brows knit. "Why'd the lights go off?"

It's still bright in the study room, but the lights beyond our little space have gone out.

"I think they're on timers, not sensors," Hannah answers. "So they shouldn't… Oh, shit."

I lift my head. "What?"

Hannah keeps staring out the window. "What time is it?"

With my left arm draped around Hannah's shoulders, I bend my elbow and twist my wrist so we can both read my watch.

Ten thirty.

"I didn't realize it was so late." I roll out my shoulders. "Do you have to get going somewhere?"

Slowly, Hannah turns her face to look up at me.

"It's ten thirty." Her eyes are wide.

"What happens at ten thirty?" I glance back at the darkened window.

"Nothing. But the library closed at ten."