Sunlight splashed across my bedroom. I planted my feet on the rug beside my bed.
“Rug, beside my bed,” I mumbled to no one in particular.
I didn’t have a rug beside my bed. This was not my bedroom.
Oh shit.
Carefully tugging the sheet up, I discovered that I was not naked. All signs pointing to the fact that nothing went horribly wrong. One last check. Slowly, I turned back towards the bed. Phew. Empty.
I didn’t feel drunk. I wasn’t hungover. What the hell happened? My fingers scratched at the back of my head as I studied my surroundings, everything was grey, blue and white. There was a fireplace in this bedroom with a flat screen TV above the mantel.
My clothes were neatly folded on a grey chair in the corner. My boots tucked between the fireplace and chair. I stood stretching my arms over my head. Loki? Where was my dog?
The questions wouldn’t find answers in here. So I pulled on my clothes and went in search of answers. Exiting the bedroom where I slept, the hallway came into focus, and pictures of Hannah and Luke, her parents and Ryleigh, lined the wall.
Immediately I was greeted by the smell of coffee and bacon as I trekked down the stairs. Hannah stood at the stove wearing a pair of overalls and a blue and white striped shirt with the sleeves rolled up to her elbows. Her dark hair was pinned up showing off the slim slope of her neck. I desperately wanted to kiss that neck.
The floorboard creaked and Loki stirred, barking at me when I entered the living room. I scratched his head when I passed by him.
“Good morning,” she said, over her shoulder.
“Good morning. Um, so I’m just going to ask outright, what the hell happened?”
She turned to face me. “You don’t remember?”
I shook my head. The lights from the morning sunlight glinted off the delicate gold chains that wrapped around Hannah’s neck.
“Nothing, except the fact that after a few beers you passed out. You weren’t drunk, well not from alcohol anyway. I think you were drained and that’s why I suggested you stay the night. I didn’t feel right sending you home when you were so exhausted. Have you been sleeping well lately?”
“Honestly,” I began. “You’re going to laugh. I never sleep well during the season. I never sleep well during the pre-season either.”
“Lack of sleep, I would never laugh at that. I raised twin boys, being dead tired is no joke.”
She rolled her lips over her teeth and brought a shaking hand to cover her mouth. I rounded the island to stand in front of her. “Hannah, what is it?”
Staring at the floor, she shook her head. I bent my head to look at her. Hannah’s blue eyes were wet with tears. “Hey, talk to me.” I tugged at her chin forcing her to look up at me.
“Ahh.” She sniffled wiping under her eyes with the palm of her hand. “Just when I think I’ve unpacked all my grief, pain, sadness and ‘poor me’ bullshit, I say or hear something so silly that sets me off. Boom! Ugly tears.”
“Take a deep breath.” I kept my tone low. “Here, sit down. I’ll finish up with the bacon.”
My hands wrapped around her shoulders as I helped her onto the barstool. Through a flimsy layer of fabric, I could feel the heat of her, warmth radiating from her body.
Because she was standing near a hot stove, dumbass.
Once I was sure Hannah was okay, if only temporarily, I walked over to the stove and flipped the sizzling slices of bacon. Turning back to face her, I watched as her shoulders rolled back and she wriggled as if trying to snap her loose limbs back together.
“It’s okay to have those moments. And it’s not bullshit,” I reminded. “Before I went into the meeting where I saw you, I took a deep breath and screamed inside my car.”
Looking away from her seemed impossible, but the pop and sizzle of bacon pulled my attention back to the skillet. I didn’t want to burn down her house. Hannah looked vulnerable, completely the opposite of how she looked when put me in my place on the field.
“You want to talk about it?” I asked, piling the bacon onto a plate.
“Nah,” she waved me off and stood. “I think I’m good.”
“You sure?”
“I said that I’m good,” she snapped, and her fingertips danced across her lips.
I moved closer to her. “Just checking, okay? I didn’t mean to push or pry.”
She wrung her hands together. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bite your head off.”
“It’s okay. Self-care, remember?” I reminded. My hands itched to pull her close, and my heart stuttered when her eyes connected with mine. I fought the urge and ignored the erratic pulses along my skin.
Hannah nodded and my phone pinged. A reminder for the coaching staff meeting in an hour appeared.
“Shit,” I muttered. “I gotta go.”
“Oh, okay.” She shifted on her heel. “Do you want to take some coffee to go?”
I popped a piece of bacon into my mouth before scooping up all of Loki’s things. “Nah, I’ll grab some on the way to the school.”
“You have a meeting or something?” she asked, tucking her hands into her pockets.
“Yeah, coaches meeting. We’re going over the workouts and cleaning up the equipment room.” I dumped out Loki’s water dish and then wiped it out with a paper towel. “And if there is time, I need to start organizing my classroom.”
“What subject do you teach?”
“World History.”
“That was one of my favorite subjects in school.”
“Oh yeah?” My brows rose. “Come on, Loki. You wanna go home?”
Loki bounded across the room landing by my side.
“Oh, hey, is your power back on? The update last night moved from six to nine. And the news report said at least a hundred or so homes are still without power.”
“Shit, I didn’t even check.” I grabbed my phone and swiped open my email. “Yep, fully restored just after ten last night.”
“That’s great.” Hannah walked us to the door and scratched Loki’s ears.
“Thanks for letting us crash,” I said, making my way down the stairs from the front porch.
“Not a problem. That’s what friends are for,” she called out.
“Friends,” I repeated, looking up from the driveway. “So we’re friends, now?”
Her hands rested on the railing, shrugging a smile turned up the corners of her mouth.
“Oh, and Hannah.”
“Yeah.”
“When I make my move, there won’t be any question.”