He reaches for my hand. “Yeah, me too.”
“Don’t you dare apologize. You have nothing to be sorry about. I’m the one who tried to be all heroic and broke up with you for your own good.” I groan. “God, I can’t even be selfless without screwing it up.”
He snickers. “It’s okay. At least you’re hot. And don’t get me started on your stripper tits.”
I squeak when he suddenly cups my breasts over my sweater and gives them a hearty squeeze.
He makes a contented little noise as he rubs his palms over my quickly hardening nipples. “Oh, I’ve missed these. You don’t know how fucking much.”
A laugh flies out. “Seriously? You’re going straight to second base when we haven’t even officially gotten back together?”
His lips latch onto my neck, and his tongue darts out for a teasing lick. “As far as I’m concerned, we were never broken up.” Then he nibbles on my earlobe, eliciting a flurry of shivers. “So the way I see it, we could hug and kiss and cry, which will take about, what, twenty minutes? And then twenty more minutes where I forgive you and you vow your undying love to me. Maybe ten minutes of you giving me head to make up for all the time we’ve lost—”
I punch him in the arm.
“But what’s the point of wasting more time when we can get right to the good part?”
My lips quiver in amusement. “And what exactly is the good part?”
Before I can blink, I’m on my back with the deliciously heavy weight of Garrett’s body on top of me. He flashes his trademark grin, that sexy crooked smile that never fails to make my heart pound, and then his mouth covers mine in a hungry kiss.
“This—” He sucks on my lower lip and rotates his hips seductively “—is the good part.”
I wrap my arms around him and hold him tight against me, and it’s so familiar, so wonderfully perfect, that the love in my heart overflows and stings my eyes. “I love you, Garrett,” I choke out.
His husky voice tickles my lips. “I love you, Hannah.”
Then he kisses me, and everything in my world is right again.
45
Hannah
March
“Why is your ex-crush in my living room?” Garrett drops the whispered accusation in my ear as he comes up beside me.
My gaze shifts to Justin, who is on the couch playing a complicated-looking shooting video game with Tucker. Then I turn back to Garrett, who looks more amused than pissed. “Because he’s my friend, and I invited him. Deal with it.”
“You don’t think it’s kind of a dick move to invite him? I mean, the football team did shit all this season, and now he has to come celebrate with the hockey crowd for making it to the semi-finals? And he has to be around the perfect specimen of manhood who stole you away?” Garrett’s gray eyes twinkle. “You’re a terrible person.”
“Oh, shut it. He’s happy that you guys are going to the Frozen Four.” I bring my lips close to his ear. “And don’t tell anyone this or I’ll kill you, but he’s been hooking up with Stella this past month.”
“For real?” Garrett’s jaw drops as he glances across the room, where Stella, Dex and Allie are in the middle of an animated conversation with Logan and Simms. It’s still kind of bizarre seeing my friends interacting with Garrett’s friends, but we’ve all hung out dozens of times over the past three months, so I’m starting to get used to it.
From his spot next to Dex, Logan senses me watching them and lifts his head, and…well, that’s something I haven’t gotten used to. The look he gives me burns with unmistakable longing, and it’s not the first time he’s looked at me like that. When I brought it up to Garrett—just once, in the most awkward conversation ever—he simply sighed and said, “He’ll get over it.” No anger on Garrett’s part, no resentment, just that one measly sentence, which hasn’t done much to soothe my worries.