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I’m sitting in my office, waiting to find out if she’ll accept my invitation. I tell myself it’s just dinner. I just want to talk to her, gauge her interest. Before she’d hung up on me last night, she’d said that she wasn’t sorry about what had happened. Did that mean she wanted it to happen again? That’s why I need to talk to her. I run a hand through my hair in frustration. I’m 34 years old and acting like an awkward teenager afraid to talk to a girl he likes. What’s wrong with me? I need to pull myself together. In an effort to distance myself from Hannah, I stay in my office and work on budget spreadsheets until my head hurts and my eyes are nearly crossed. When I finish, it’s nearly time for the ceremony.

The wedding goes perfectly. The skies are clear with just the slightest breeze to ruffle the bride’s veil as the happy couple speaks their vows. The courtyard is tastefully decorated with hydrangeas and trailing wisteria that perfume the evening air. Two hundred people are in attendance, their eyes trained on the bride and groom. But I can’t seem to take my eyes off Hannah. Tonight, she’s wearing a pale gray, shimmery dress that seems to catch the light when she moves. Her hair spills over her bare shoulders and down her back in soft waves. She’s watching the newly married couple as they share their first kiss. There’s a soft expression on her face and I wonder if she knows how beautiful she looks. I tear my eyes away from her before someone catches me staring.

By the time the reception draws to a close and the wedding guests begin to depart, I’ve nearly managed to drive myself crazy wondering why Hannah hasn’t responded to my invitation. Even if she doesn’t want to have dinner, she could at least say so. I know I’m being unfair. She’s been busy working her ass off with this wedding and all I can think of is whether last night was the first and last time I’ll get to see her naked. After maybe the tenth time I let myself imagine all the ways I could lure her somewhere private and get her out of that dress, I decide it may be time for me to go home. Hannah and her team have things well under control. I’d much rather obsess over Hannah on my couch in the comfort of my sweatpants than in this suit and tie.

Chapter Sixteen

Hannah

I slip off my heels as soon as I’m in my car. I let out something between a sigh and a whimper as I wiggle my aching toes. I’m so tired I think it’s possible I could sleep right here in the parking lot. If it weren’t for the prospect of a hot bath and my memory foam mattress, I just might do it. Instead, I force myself to put on my seatbelt and crank the car. My peonies are buckled into the passenger seat and I glance over at them before putting the car into gear.

“Fine,” I say, letting out a sigh. I use the hands-free feature to call Quinn and wait for her to answer. After 2 rings, her voice comes through the car’s speakers.

“Hey, what’s up?”

“Nothing. Just finished a mega wedding. On my way home.”

“Ooh, fun. High society? Politician’s kid?”

I laugh. “Nope. Just your run-of-the-mill rich people. But they were nice. Not too demanding.”

“So, not a Bridezilla, then,” Quinn said.

“Nope. It was a beautiful wedding.” I sigh.

“What’s that sigh about?” Quinn sounds suspicious.

I almost smile. Quinn knows me so well. I take a deep breath.

“Well,” I begin. “Remember what you asked me the other day? About Finn? That answer has changed.”

Several seconds of silence pass before Quinn lets out an excited squeal when she figures out what I’m saying. “Oh. My. God! I need details! Tell me everything. I swear, Hannah you’d better not leave out anything.”

I laugh. “If you’ll shut up, I’ll tell you most of the details.”

“You’re no fun.”

“You get most or you get nothing,” I say. “Even best friends need some boundaries.”

“If you say so,” Quinn mutters. “Just tell me one thing. Was it as good as my imagination makes it out to be?”

I can’t help the smile that stretches across my face. “Better. So much better.”

“I knew it!”

In between her interruptions, I manage to give Quinn an extremely brief recap of the night before ending with Finn’s apology phone call and my hanging up on him.

“Good for you!” Quinn says, her voice approving. “Let him figure out his shit.”

“I think he has,” I say. “He sent me flowers today and asked me to dinner tomorrow.”

“Oh, shit.” Quinn breathed. “What are you going to wear?”

I sigh as I turn into my driveway. “I don’t know if I should go,” I say. “Is this a good idea?”

“Hell yes!”

I park my car and fish my cell phone out of my purse, switching the call over. I leave my heels in the car and walk barefoot into the house carrying my flowers. I take a moment to thank Margo for watching Liam again. I know she’s saving up for a car, so she’s grateful for the work, but I’m sure hanging out with an eight-year-old on a Friday night isn’t her idea of fun. After she leaves, I go back to my conversation with Quinn.

“I’m serious, Quinn. What if this ruins everything? I’ll have to find a new job. Hell, I’ll probably have to move. His family owns half the town.”

"Hannah, stop," Quinn says. "Just listen."

I stop speaking, waiting for whatever words of wisdom my best friend has to impart. "Okay," I say on a sigh. "Go."

"How do you feel about Finn? And don't give me that friendship bullshit," she says. "Give it some serious thought and tell me how you really feel about him. What is it you want out of this situation? Truly? Do you want things to

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