OFTEN (BOOK 2)

Don't Fuck It Up This Time

I sighed and pulled my papers from the printer tray. We needed a vacation.

Back in my office, I dropped the files on my desk and stared at my computer monitor, which, to my surprise, displayed a mostly empty calendar. I'd pulled insanely long workdays the entire week before just so I could get home to Hanni early, so aside from Payroll grabbing me early this morning, my schedule had remained open. Hanni, however, was clearly busy in her new position.

I missed having her as my intern. I missed bossing her around. I really missed her bossing me around in return.

For the first time in months, I had time to sit in my office and literally do nothing. I closed my eyes and a hundred thoughts filtered past in mere seconds: the view of the empty New York offices just before I'd left for the airport. The prospect of packing up my house. The far preferable prospect of unpacking in a new home with Hanni. And then my brain went down its favorite path: Hanni naked and in every conceivable position.

Which led back to one of my favorite memories of Hanni and me: the morning after her presentation. Due to the heat and tension that came with actually admitting we were no longer hate-fucking but actually interested in something more, we had one of our biggest arguments ever. I hadn't seen her in months, so I showed up at her presentation for the scholarship board to watch her nail it. And she did.

Afterward, though, despite everything we'd said upstairs in the boardroom, there was still so much more to say. The reality of our reunion still felt so new, and I hadn't been sure where we stood.

Once we were on the sidewalk, I stared down at her: at her eyes, and lips, and her neck, which was still a little red from the biting kisses I'd placed there only minutes before. The way she reached up and rubbed her finger over what appeared to be a small hickey pushed an electric reminder from mybrainto my cock: this reunion is nice but it's time to get her home and fuck her into the mattress.

I wasn't sure we were on the same page about that, though.

Outside in the daylight, she looked like she was about to fall over. Of course she was. Knowing Hanni, she'd probably been preparing and fine-tuning her presentation for the last seventy-two hours straight, no sleep. But I hadn't seen her in so long—could I keep it together long enough to just let her go home to rest? If she needed to nap, I could just hang out and wait for her to wake up, right? I could lie down near her, reassure myself that she was really here and we were really doing this and just . . . what? Touch her hair?

Holy shit. Had I always been this creepy?

Hanni hitched her computer backup over her shoulder, and the movement pulled me out of my thoughts. But when I blinked back into focus, I saw that she was staring off into the distance, toward the river.

"You okay?" I asked, ducking to meet her eyes.

She nodded, startling a little as if she'd been caught. "I'm fine, just overwhelmed."

"A little shell-shocked?"

Her exhausted smile pulled at something tender beneath my ribs, but the way she licked her lips before speaking tugged inside me a bit lower. "I was so sad thinking I wasn't going to see you today. And this morning, I spent the entire walk between your building and here thinking how weird it was that I was going to be doing this without you, or Marco, or anyone from Kim Media. And then you came here, and of course you pissed me off, but you also made me laugh . . ." She tilted her head, studied my face. "The presentation was exactly what I wanted it to be, and then the job offers . . . and you. You told me you love me. You're here."

She reached out to press her palm flat to my chest. I knew she could feel my heart slamming against my sternum. "My adrenaline is slowing and now I'm just . . ." She moved her hand away from me and waved it in front of her before it seemed to deflate at her side. "I'm not sure how tonight is going to work."