First Comes Love - Ashlee Price Page 0,42
was everything?”
I hug her tighter. “I’m so happy to see you! It was… I… don’t even know where to begin!”
Anchovy leaps down and races overjoyed circles around us as my bag flops on the floor.
“Begin with your hot boss,” Hannah says, with a devilish eyebrow wiggle, “and how everything went.”
“Ugh,” I groan. “It was… OK, it was amazing. He was. Is. And, he…” I try to bite my lip and hold it in, but this is Han. “He just dropped me off, actually. And kissed me. After we spent four days together in the fanciest resort I’ve ever seen.”
Hannah’s jaw drops open and drops even further as I speak.
She grasps both my hands. “Tell me everything.” We’re halfway to the couch when she pauses. “Shit, you’re probably exhausted. Ignore that, you can tell me everything tomorrow. Go to bed.”
I go over to the couch and sit down. “No, I’m actually… not super tired anymore. For some reason.”
Probably the kiss, but I’m not about to go into how a grade-school-worthy chaste kiss has injected me with energy like a triple-shot espresso.
“OK then.” Hannah sits beside me. “Tell me everything, then.”
I do. I start at the beginning and go from there. Hannah giggles and groans and ‘oohs’ at all the right parts, and in the end, she laughs.
“What?” I ask her.
“He likes you,” she says simply. “And you actually really like him too.”
“Hmm.” Patting Anchovy absently on the head, I shrug. “You don’t think you might be reading into things?”
Another incredulous laugh. “Reading into things? Harley, you spent a glorious four days with the man camped out in a luxury hotel and, in your words, wanted to spend even longer. If anything, I’m reading too little into things.”
“Maybe it’s just the opportunity,” I continue, “just the excitement of finally nabbing my dream job, meeting one of my film idols…”
Hannah makes a skeptical sound. “Sounds like your delusional self needs some sleep.”
I sink into the couch gratefully. “You’re probably right—about the sleep part, at least. ’Night, Han.”
“Oh no you don’t.” Next thing I know, Hannah’s pulling me to my feet, over to my room. “No way do I want a lecture about morning etiquette because I decided to chew my Shreddies and woke you up. You are sleeping in your own room with the door closed.”
“Yes ma’am,” I say sleepily as she helps me along.
All at once, the weariness hits me, like a wave that had been sitting placid.
As soon as my head hits the pillow, I’m out, gone and…
**
I wake up to Hannah’s “You’re still asleep?!?”
I glare at her with my eyes still closed. “You’re still here?”
She snorts. “Still here? I just got back from work. Have you really been sleeping all this time?”
“Mrmph,” I say noncommittally, although I do open my eyes.
Sure enough, it’s broad daylight and my phone says it’s 4:37 PM with one missed call.
One missed call from Greyson Storm.
!!!
“Good thing Anchovy still had a crapton of food from yesterday,” Hannah says as she comes to my door.
“Are you still just slopping a mountain of minced meat into his food bowl every few days?” I grumble.
“Why not?” Hannah folds her arms across her chest. “He likes it.”
“Yeah, and my favorite food in the world is caramel corn. Doesn’t mean I should eat mountains of it all day every day.”
“Harley.” Hannah’s giving me her motherly know-it-all look I hate. “Anchovy is a ferret.”
“And a damn fine healthy ferret. Who I intend to keep that way.”
“Why don’t you feed yourself first, then we can worry about Anchovy.”
“You were the one who brought it up,” I grumble, as I straggle to my feet. “Anyway, you’re so bothered, why don’t you go escape and have a perfect date with the Most Handsome Man Alive?”
“Because I wanted to spend some time with my grumpy lazy friend.”
I crack a half-smile. “OK, sorry. I am grumpy. I think I need some food.” Hannah raises an eyebrow. “OK. A lot of food.”
We end up whipping up some homemade olive and pepperoni pizza. Once I’ve eaten and admitted that Greyson called and I still haven’t called him back, Hannah shoes me out of there. “Call him!”
“God, it’s only been like seven hours since he called, chill.”
When I call, Greyson picks up after the first ring. “Hey.”
“Hey,” I say, “You called. What’s up?”
“Just wanted to see how you were doing.” His tone is natural, not awkward.
“Great,” I say, trying to take the same tone. “I slept in until like 4:30, though. I think I was a wee bit tired.”
Greyson