Pretzel purred contentedly on the couch next to where Ward sat with his laptop open. ESPN was on the TV and two talking heads were offering their round-up on that night’s games, including the Panthers’ less-than-stellar performance against Dallas earlier in the evening and lots of chatter about their new coach. While their analysis should have commanded his attention, he was barely listening.

He couldn’t get his mind off of Hannah, how goddamn stupid he’d been and how badly he’d misread the situation, completely confusing her attention as attraction.

You’re her job, his inner voice reminded him. She’s paid to pay attention to you.

He shook his head as if doing so would dispel his humiliation and he could conjure up an alternate reality. But what exactly? he pondered. One in which Hannah had come back here with him and they’d …

No, he realized, it was more than just physical, so much more. He’d been so sure there was something deeper growing between them, was certain of it; otherwise she wouldn’t have reassured him that she’d be there for him, or let him hold her like that.

Though she’d rejected him in the end regardless, hadn’t she?

He replayed that scene over and over again in his mind, the look on her face when she’d told him she’d been hurt by someone and was still getting over it. Ward wanted to tear the asshole limb from limb whoever he was. Hannah didn’t deserve to be hurt like that. He would never hurt her like that, or any way. Not in a million years.

Or would he? Wasn’t that his pattern? Fall for a girl and then love-bomb her, until just when he thought she was feeling the same way, she took off and left him for dust. Like Melanie had. He’d since told his ex that he didn’t think there was any point in hooking up when she was back in town. That’s all it would’ve been too – a meaningless, pointless hookup.

Because he didn’t feel the same way he used to about Melanie. The way he felt now about Hannah.

Jeez, this was torture. Women were torture. How did he always end up going from one bad situation to another? Granted at least Hannah had the sense to blow off his advances, though Ward did know enough about women to know that she’d been … thinking about it.

But ultimately he’d got it wrong. And she was a woman of principle. Someone who kept to her boundaries. Played it straight and between the lines. His mind continued to drift and he scratched Pretzel behind the ears absently, trying to regain control of his thoughts and the flurry of conflicting emotions he was feeling right then – about everything.