Chapter 1

Two Years Later

Logan

The music pulses through my body as my best friend, Lincoln Samson, orders a round of whiskey shots for us.

"Fifty bucks she leaves with him in five minutes," he says, tipping his chin in the direction of our friend, Cal Sorenson, who's making the moves on a pretty brunette.

"She won't leave with him. Are you listening to his lines?" I laugh. "She's only sticking around since he's buying most of her drinks."

"I have faith in my man."

"I'm sure you do."

The bartender brings us our whiskey shots and since Cal's too busy with the brunette, I take his shot and let the burning liquid slide down my throat.

“Fuck, that's good.” I raise my glass and the bartender acknowledges my request for another.

In less than five minutes, she leaves Cal and heads to the dance floor to join her friends. I extend my hand and Lincoln mutters something under his breath before putting the cash in my hand.

The crowd at the bar’s getting busier, which is typical for a Saturday night. A few women have come over to us, flirting, asking to dance, but I’m not here to take home a nameless woman. I’d only come to have some drinks with Lincoln and Cal before going home.

Something catches my attention and I look toward the entrance of the bar and notice the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. Her dark blonde hair spills in waves past her shoulders, and her tan, sun-kissed skin screams for my lips. The tiny black dress she has on makes my dick wake up. The plunging neckline shows off her amazing tits that'll fit perfectly in my hands and the dress hits her mid-thigh. My eyes roam her long, toned legs and my cock wants to play.

The gorgeous woman is with someone else, who's hot, as well, but not like the blonde goddess I have my eyes on. Both women walk over to the bar near us, and I notice Lincoln also checking them out before he turns his attention to them.

“Two Washington Apple shots, please," the blonde's friend asks when she gets to the bar.

“Make that four, Pat.” Lincoln taps the surface of the bar, sliding him cash, "and keep the change."

“Hi,” she purrs and winks at him.

“Well, hello there. I'm Lincoln.”

She licks her ruby lips. “Eden.”

“Beautiful name,” he says in a low tone, holding her gaze, “for an obviously beautiful woman.”

Lincoln moves closer to her and I notice that the one who caught my eye is looking at me.

“Hi. I'm Logan.”

She smiles, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. “Hannah. It's nice to meet you, Logan.”

“You, too.”

She moves over by me, sits on the empty barstool to wait for her shot, and turns toward me. When her eyes meet mine, my breath hitches and my veins pulsate. Her clear, emerald eyes stare at me, and for the first time in two years, I want to get to know another woman for more than one night.

When the shots come and we take them, Eden whispers in Hannah's ear and walks away with Lincoln to the small dance floor.

“Would you like to dance?”

“Oh, no.” She laughs, waving her hands in front of her face.

Damn, she's adorable. The way she slightly tips her head down and her gaze moves back to me, hell, it's driving me crazy.

“And why's that?” I laugh along with her.

“Dancing?” She shakes her head, and covers her heart shaped mouth. “I can't dance for anything. My mother put me in ballet and tap class when I was a little girl, and the instructor advised my parents I should look into something else. So I tried soccer and failed at that. I found that playing the piano and studying art were where I excelled. Plus… I have a boyfriend.”

“I'm sorry, it's really hard to hear you!” I shout.

“What?”

The music's loud and more people are surrounding us, making it damn near impossible to talk.

“Do you wanna get out of here? The beach is really close by, and I'd like to continue this conversation outside so I can hear you.”

“Yeah. For sure, let's go. First lemme tell Eden so she doesn't worry.”

I watch her walk over to Eden and Lincoln. I'm following close behind and notice Lincoln's eyes on me. He nods and I do the same, acknowledging what I'm about to do. It's nothing serious. I'm curious about Hannah and want to take the conversation elsewhere, rather than at the bar.

We walk in silence, and once we're on the beach, Hannah grabs my forearm and I notice she's taking off her shoes.

“There's no way I can walk on the sand with these on.”

“Good idea.” I agree with her.

Once her shoes are off, I reach over and grab them from her so she doesn't have to worry about carrying them.

“That's sweet of you.”

“No problem.” I turn and smile. “So back to our conversation. What did you say before about not dancing?”

“Oh. I have a boyfriend.”

“And what does that have to do with dancing?”

She pushes me a little and I have to laugh at her effort to try and get me away from her.

“It means,” she says with a playful tone while twirling her hand in the air as if she's trying to find the words to say, “I love my boyfriend, and I don’t know… dancing can be so… seductive.”

I lean down. “Only if you make it seductive,” I say as I whisper the last word and feel her tremble next to me. “I’m kidding. So what brings you to Rochester?”

“I’m graduating this Friday and then we’re leaving Ohio to move here. Eden and I had to get some things done and settled before the big move.”

“That’s great. Why don’t you take down my number and, when you’re settled, I can show you around?”

She stops walking, and turns toward me. “You know what? That sounds like a good idea.”

I hand her my phone and she puts in her number, then I send her a text so she has mine.

“So, do you still play the piano?”

“What?” She laughs and we go back to our walk down the beach.

“The piano. You were talking about that before we left the bar.”

She shrugs. “Kinda. When my brother passed away, I lost the passion to play. We'd spend hours playing and coming up with our own tunes. Whenever I played, it felt as though… everything I was feeling inside, I released with my fingers. I got lost and was in my own world.”

“I'm sorry about your brother.” I gently reach over and squeeze her hand. The moonlight's hitting her perfectly, so I can see the blush in her cheeks deepening to a light crimson color. I’m not sure where the hell the gesture comes from. I don’t move my hand away. I leave it in hers and notice the way her body relaxes as my thumb sweeps across her soft skin.

“I have no idea why I told you all of that.” She giggles again and it’s the prettiest sound to hit my ears. The melody of her giggle makes me want to continue to keep her laughing so I can listen to it all night. “I have this tendency to keeping talking and talking.”

“I don't mind. Please keep going.”

“I'm not gonna spend all night talking about myself.”

“Why?” I ask.

“It's weird. Why don't you tell me about you?”

“What about me?” I’m avoiding the subject of me. I’d much rather listen to her talk more, rambling on about whatever she wants, and I’ll be here listening.

“Anything about you would be something rather than nothing.”

“Before I get into myself why don’t we sit here?” I get down to my knees and feel the coolness of the sand, and hold my hand to help her sit down as well.

When she does, I watch her curl her legs to the side, and she’s watching the waves of the lake. It’s peaceful out here tonight.

“So?” she asks, turning back to me, and taking her finger to trace on the sand.

“Not much to tell. I work at my father's company overseeing the marketing and development department. I don't have any siblings, I've lived in New York my whole life, specifically Victor.”

“I can totally Google you or look you up on Facebook and find that out. Gimme something more. Something no one knows.”

She sits up on her legs and leans over to place her warm palms on my chest. Determination to find out more about me is glowing in her eyes. Usually I'm not this open with a woman. But, with Hannah, it's comfortable to talk to her. She genuinely wants to know more about me and who I am, rather than what I can do for her. I lean in close to her, smelling her sweetness, and hearing her breath hitch.

“I hate cheese. Everything about it makes me sick. The smell. The texture. If I'm near cheese I'll turn away and never look back.” She throws her head back, laughing, and for a moment, I forget the shit in my life and feel freer being here with her.

The air around us becomes cooler. Hannah shivers slightly, so I wrap my arm around her shoulders and pull her closer to me. My body’s fully aware of every move she makes and each time she presses closer to me.

She’s a hurricane whirling into the bar, honing in on me, ripping open the part of me that has been closed for years.

“We should head back. You're freezing and I don't want to keep you outside for long.”

“Good idea,” she whispers, and I hear the chattering of her teeth.

We get up and I place my arm around her shoulders again. This time the walk back to the bar is quiet. I don’t mind though. There’s something calming being with her. It’s strange, but welcoming. I’m wondering how one woman, one sweet and beautiful woman, can turn my night into something better. Something I want to keep going and not in the sense to take her to bed. I want to keep her talking, get to know her, listen to the melody of her voice and laugh until the sun comes up. I have so many questions in my head, questions I want to ask just so I can see her pouty, soft pink lips move. But, I can’t be selfish.

Once we're outside the bar, we’re standing in front of each other, neither of us moving, and under the dim light her eyes capture me, freezing me in my place.

“Are you gonna come back inside or do you wanna go somewhere else.”

The answer’s on the tip of my tongue. I take a step so I’m closer to her and reach over, tucking strands of her hair behind her ear. The warmth of her cheek as my hand brushes it makes my chest grow tight and I remember why it’s not a good idea to say yes. “I’m gonna head out,” I tell her, pulling my hand back to my side. “Be sure to text me when you’re back in town. Good luck with the move.”

“It was nice meeting you,” she beams, making me want to stay here longer so I can talk to her more.

“Yeah, you, too.”

I let out a heavy sigh and watch her return to the bar. Before walking in, she peeks her head over her shoulder and gives me a small wave. Part of me wants to go back into the bar with her and just be with her, while the other part screams to get the hell out and go home. I don't move from where I'm standing and when she's back inside I call a cab from my cell phone.

Within fifteen minutes, the cab pulls to the curb in front of my house. I climb out and hand the driver some cash through his open window, telling him to keep the change. The sound of his engine fades through the night air, leaving me at the end of my driveway, wishing like hell I could ask him to come back and keep chauffeuring me around. To nowhere in particular, just anywhere.

Anywhere, but here.

I stand and stare at the dark and empty house. Dread consumes me, taunting and pushing me inside, into the cold, lonely space. It's pulling me to come in and get lost in my own thoughts. The impending guilt slams against my chest, nearly leaving me breathless. I think about selling the house every day, but I can't let it go.

I shuffle my way up the walk and when I close the door behind me and pass through the empty rooms, in my mind, I hear her voice asking if it's me. She's coming toward me, with open arms, and once we're molded together, I feel her lips against mine.

It's a fantasy, I tell myself. Just a fantasy.

I throw open the glass slider and stumble onto the deck, hoping to find… something more, but I'm not sure what.

The memories of Shannon remain in my mind. In the house, there's nothing that reminds me of her, except a few pictures I leave in a box in my closet.

I had Lincoln and Cal take down everything that reminded me of her. Everything was devoid of her. Needless to say, my parents were worried, same with my friends, and they pushed me to go to therapy. I went for a few sessions and stopped. It was too hard to talk about her and take in all the pain again. I buried myself in work, and at night there were nameless women and alcohol that satisfied me.

My phone vibrates in my pocket. I take it out and see that it’s a text from Lincoln.

Lincoln: Please tell me you didn’t leave this hot ass chick for Paige.

Me: I didn’t.

Lincoln: Why’d you leave?

Me: Just did.

Lincoln: Hannah's asking about you. Maybe you should think about getting to know her more and move on.

Me: She has a boyfriend. No point.

Lincoln: Not trying to sound like an asshole, but the way she's talking about you, asking for more info, is telling me she forgot her boyfriend's name. Look man, I love you and hate seeing you down. You're at home, remembering the past. You need to stop torturing yourself and think about moving on.

Instead of responding I put my phone back into my pocket, and think about the possibility of moving on. Hannah's smile comes to me and I'm not sure how I should be feeling. Then I remember she has a boyfriend and I don't know much about her. She'll be a friend - someone to hang out with. Because it doesn't matter how much fun she is to be around or how I feel when I hear her laugh and see her smile. No one will be Shannon.