Sighing, I admit defeat and pick up the check to tip and sign it with the pen the bartender left for me. I’m having a hard time reading what it says, so I hold it a little closer to my face. I was diagnosed with dyslexia when I was in middle school, so I’ve gotten used to the struggles that come with it for the most part, but it’s always worse in low lighting.

“A beer and an order of onion rings,” someone says from behind me, making my shoulders tense up. I spin on my barstool to find Aaron standing a couple feet away. He smirks smugly at me. “Having a hard time sounding out the words? I guess it’s a good thing hockey players don’t have to be very bright. Hannah really deserves someone smarter in her life.”

My jaw clenches. I’ve never been the stereotypical hothead kind of hockey player who gets into fights, on or off the ice, but right this second? I’d love nothing more than to punch this asshole right in his cocky fucking jaw to drag him off his high horse for good.

The only thing that keeps me from springing off this stool and knocking out a few of his privileged teeth is Hannah. It doesn’t sound like she thinks very highly of him anymore either, but I don’t imagine it’ll do me any favors with her if she hears I got into a sloppy bar fight with her ex-boyfriend, so I just glare at him for a while before I spin back around and sign the check.

“You know,” I say without looking at him, keeping my voice level, “the fact that you think intelligence is measured by how easily someone reads a bill tells me everything I need to know about you.”

I brush past him on my way out the door and don’t bother to look back. He’s not worth my time, and he’s definitely not worth Hannah’s either. I’m half expecting him to follow me out into the parking lot to start more shit, but he must know better because I make it to my bike without seeing another hint of him.

I kick my leg over my bike and put in the key to start the engine. But before I put on my helmet to leave, I pull out my phone and tap to start a new message to Hannah, using the speech-to-text option to dictate it.

ME: I meant what I said. Nothing that’s happened between us has been a mistake.

I press send and shove my phone back into my pocket, then rev the bike’s engine and peel away with a smile on my face.

Whatever this thing between us is, it’s something rare. Something real.

And I’m not giving up until she admits that too.

15. Hannah

Chapter 15

Hannah

Six Months Ago