Travis

I pull into my driveway and notice a small shape sitting in one of the wicker chairs Betty insisted I put on my front porch, even though I never sit on them.

The shape rises with my approach and steps into the light.

It’s Hannah.

I exhale and look at her through tired eyes. I had a few drinks tonight, not enough to inebriate me, but it’s all because of the girl’s sexy-as-fuck mother.

Why is she here waiting for me? Whatever it is, it can’t be good. Liv was clear today. She doesn’t want anything more to do with me. The last thing I need is another reason to get tangled up with her.

I get out of the truck and saunter up the steps, stopping right in front of her.

“Does your mother know you’re standing on my front porch?” I ask, and she smiles up at me, thrusting the plate of cookies toward me. I look at them and take a quick breath. They’re Christmas cookies, with bright holiday decorations.

“We made these for you last night to say thank you for your help, but after everything that happened, Mom forgot to bring them over to you,” she explains. “I thought I’d do it for her.”

“How long have you been waiting for me?”

“A little while. I didn’t want to just leave them here.”

“You shouldn’t have come.” I swallow, feeling like a wild animal backed into a corner. I can’t bring myself to take the cookies. “You need to go.”

“Did I do something wrong?” she asks, her voice wavering, and she takes a step back.

“I don’t want the cookies.”

“Oh, if we put cookies on the plate you don’t like, I can switch them out for you. We made a lot of—”

“No,” I growl a little too harshly and watch as she flinches from my outburst. “Shit, I’m sorry, but Hannah, you need to go home.”

She looks between me, the cookies, and her house before thrusting the plate at me again. This time, I step back and sneer at the sweets. I hate Christmas cookies as much as I hate Christmas.

“Please, leave and take those things with you,” I tell her, doing my best to keep calm, but the panic rises in the back of my throat.

“Hannah?” Liv’s voice comes from their backyard, and I watch Hannah’s eyes widen. Her mother has no idea she’s here at my house. “Where are you?”

“You better go before she finds you here.” I turn and unlock my front door, ignoring the young girl. Opening and closing the door on her, I feel like the world’s biggest asshole yet again. I look at her through the peephole. Liv calls out her to once more, but Hannah stands still, making me more worried with each second that passes. When she finally moves and steps back into the light, I groan.

Hannah is crying, and it’s all my fault.

I didn’t have to be such an asshole to her. She’s just a kid.

Maybe I did have too much to drink tonight, after all.

“Fuck,” I swear, but there is no one to hear me.

There’s been no one to hear me for years.

A sudden pounding at the door wakes me from the thought trance I was slowly slipping into.

I look around, unsure of how long I’ve been standing here and feeling like it was longer than I should have been.

“You stupid son of a bitch, open this door right now,” Liv yells from the other side of the door in between pounds. “What did you say to my daughter?”

Shit. Hannah.

I open the door, and she pushes her way inside, pinning me against the wall.

“What the fuck is your problem?” she demands, her nostrils flaring with each ragged breath she takes in. She’s in mama bear mode. “Do you enjoy making seven-year-old girls cry?”

“She shouldn’t have been here,” I say dryly.

“So, you decide to make her cry?”

“She had cookies.” I straighten before using my height to push her back a little. Talk about cornering a wild animal. I’m starting to feel like I can’t breathe. My heart pounds heavily in my chest and guilt over what I’ve done to Hannah begins to gnaw at my gut.

“Are you freaking kidding me?” Liv sputters. “She was trying to say thank you for what you’ve done for us. She was trying to be nice, not poison your arrogant ass.”

I hang my head and sigh.

Fuck, she’s right.

What was I thinking?

She’s a fucking kid. An innocent girl who just wanted to do something nice for me.

“Is she okay?” I ask, feeling the urge to push past Liv and beg for Hannah’s forgiveness.

“You know, that’s the first decent thing you’ve said to me since meeting me.” She throws her arms up and steps back. “Of course, she isn’t okay. Why do you think I’m here? She’s crying uncontrollably in her bedroom.”

Yup, I fucked up. Big time.

“I’m sorry, Liv,” I murmur. “I shouldn’t have talked to her that way.”

“What is your problem?” she asks exasperatedly. “Ever since we got here, it’s like you set out to hate us, no matter what we did.”

“I don’t hate you—” I start, but she holds up a hand, stopping me from saying anything more.

“It doesn’t matter, okay? We can be neighbors without being best friends.” She wraps her arms around her and rubs her bare arms. I notice she isn’t wearing a jacket, just pair of yoga pants and a thin T-shirt. “Just leave my daughter out of this, okay? She’s going through enough shit right now; she doesn’t need you adding to it.”

“Where is your jacket?” I demand, ignoring everything she said. “Are you trying to catch a cold?”

“What’s it to you, neighbor?” She turns and walks out of my house. I watch her go, once again feeling the whiplash of her presence. She stops the moment she steps onto her driveway, and looks at me from over her shoulder. “Stay on your side of line, and we’ll stay on ours.”

She continues into the house, slamming the door behind her, leaving me a jumbled mess.