But she still lingers, her eyes on mine as if she’s trying to summon the courage to leave. I can’t tell what’s going on inside her head—fuck, I wish I could—but something is playing out on her face that I’m not sure she’s even consciously aware of.

But I am.

Finally, she steps away from my bike, giving me a wide berth like she’s expecting me to pull her into my arms again. And honestly, it’s difficult to resist the urge to do exactly that. But I can’t let her get away without making sure I’m going to see her again soon.

“Hannah,” I call to her, and she stops to look over her shoulder at me. “When is our next session?”

“Same time next week?”

I smirk at her. “I wouldn’t miss it. Good luck with the studying.”

“Thanks. See you then,” she says with a blushing smile before heading to her car.

I probably shouldn’t stare, but I can’t take my eyes off her—the confident way she moves, like a dancer, each step deliberate and graceful. I swear she could stop traffic just by walking down the street.

I wait until she gets in her car and drives away. Once she’s gone, I feel like I can breathe normally again for the first time since she followed me out of the bar. But I’m still riding high on adrenaline from the intense kiss we just shared, so I lock my stuff in the compartment under my bike’s seat and decide to go back into Sideline for a drink to clear my head. Besides, I’m not entirely sure the waitress got a tip out of the cash I left on the table.

I walk back into the bar with a million thoughts competing for attention in my head, and the waitress flags me down as soon as I step through the door. “Oh, I’m glad you’re here. I know this is awkward, but there wasn’t enough to cover your bill.”

“Shit, I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to dine and ditch. But you know what? I think I’m gonna have another drink, so can you just leave the bill open and put it on there?” I ask as I pull out my wallet and hand her my credit card so she knows I’m not pulling any funny business.

The waitress takes it and smiles. “Sure. What can I get you?”

“Another whiskey sour, please.”

“Coming right up. Sit wherever you like, I’ll bring it out to you.”

“Thanks,” I tell her.