No Chance by Lisa Suzanne

CHAPTER 32: HANNAH

“I have a surprise for you,” Brett says early the next afternoon as we watch Chance crawl all over our hotel suite. I jump up to protect him from ramming into a table headfirst, and I wish these hotels had bumpers. Or I wish I could put Chance in bubble wrap.

The Chicago gig was a total success, and now we have some free time until tonight, when the band has a private performance. I had fun watching the three kids, but I passed out as soon as Amanda and Danielle stopped by to pick up their sleeping children.

Taking care of three babies all under three was exhausting. I don’t know how Amanda does it night after night, but I think the offers to trade will be fewer and further between from here on out.

“What is it?” I run to the other side of Chance to block him from the electrical outlet he’s quickly approaching.

I glance up at Brett, who has a little gleam in his eye as he says, “If I told you, it wouldn’t be much of a surprise.”

I let out a little laugh at that.

“Are you okay with letting Amanda watch Chance for a few hours?” he asks.

I nod. “He’s doing so much better. The antibiotics seemed to kick in quicker than the doctor said they would, so yes, I think I’m okay with it.”

“Then let’s drop him off and get on our way.”

“To where?” I ask, trying to get it out of him.

He just shrugs and pretends to zip his lips, so I pack up everything Chance will need and we head out the door.

After we drop him off, Brett leads me down to a car waiting for us in front of the hotel. He’s got a ballcap on again, and between sunglasses, a long-sleeved shirt, and the hat, it’s a little harder to recognize who he is. And that’s just fine since I want him all to myself for whatever it is we’re doing today.

When the car pulls to a stop twenty minutes later, I read the sign in front of us: Navy Pier.

He holds out a hand to help me out of the car, and he doesn’t let go once I’m out. Instead, we walk along the pier. We stop and look at boats on the water. We meander through shops and people watch. We make up stories about couples passing us by, all the while clutching each other’s hand.

We stop for lunch at Harry Carey’s restaurant, where we learn the history of the Chicago Cubs and keep our conversation light. Once we’re done with lunch, we resume our walk on the pier, and eventually we end up in front of a Ferris wheel. “Want to go for a ride?” he asks.

I lift a shoulder. “Why not?”

He chuckles and pays for two tickets, and then we wait in a short line. We board our car, still hand-in-hand, and a little thrill rolls through me not at the fact that we’re starting our ascent to the top of this thing but because it’s Brett by my side. The wheel jerks to a stop as the next people get onto the car behind ours, and we both giggle at the sudden stop.

We move again and stop again, and again and again, and eventually we’re taken for a ride. The wheel moves freely, and my tummy somersaults as we approach the top. And that’s when Brett pulls off his hat and leans in toward me. His big hand cups my neck, and he turns my face toward his. His lips find mine, and my mouth opens to invite him in, and then suddenly we’re making out on a Ferris wheel. His hand moves down to brush against my breast, and I can’t help the little moan that escapes me.

Regardless of what I’ve been through and what I’ve lost, I never in my wildest dreams could’ve imagined this moment.

I want Brett Pitzer.

I want him to make me lose control as I lie naked beneath him. I want his hands on my body and his tongue in my mouth. I want him between my legs instead of the water jets of a whirlpool tub and I want to move slowly down his body to take him in my mouth. I want him inside my body and I want him to show me what I’ve been missing. I want him to take me and please me the way I’ve seen it in the movies. I want him to give me the experiences I haven’t had and I want him holding my hand as he leads me through them.

I want to fall in love with him.

I want this to work and I don’t want it to feel weird. I don’t want the crap in my own head to stop me from finding the happiness that I deserve.

Go for it.

Maybe that needs to be my new life motto.

We’re in our own little car, not totally private but nearing the top where nobody can really see us. Brett gets a little more aggressive as he palms my breast over my shirt, and I let my fingers trail down his torso. I brush against his erection, and I gasp a little into his mouth. He’s hard and ready, and he deepens our kiss as he massages my breast. I rub my hand along his thick length, and he grunts before he pulls back from our kiss. His eyes are hooded and stormy, darker blue than usual in the sunshine of a perfect late summer afternoon.

“Jesus,” he mutters. He finally moves his hand, and I’m not sure what he means by any of it.

“What?” I ask, moving my hand as well so I’m not sitting here gripping onto his dick as we swing through the station on our ride by.

“I need to be honest with you about something.”

My brows dip down, and then he says quietly, “I want you. But I don’t just want you for one night.”

A bit of shock flits through me. I mean I know he was just kissing me, which should make his statement about wanting me sort of obvious, but kissing me and telling me are two different things entirely. And telling me he wants me for more than one night seems extra meaningful given what I know of his history.

He leans in a little closer to me, and then he murmurs into my ear, “I want you spread out naked on my bed.”

I shiver at the heat of his words, both in their meaning and his breath hot against my ear. A needy ache forms between my legs.

“I want to lick your pussy until you can’t see straight and then I want to fuck you until you can’t walk straight. I want your mouth on my cock and your tits in my face. But I realized today that it’s way more than that. I want to hold your hand as we walk down the pier. I want to laugh with you as we sit in a restaurant eating a meal. I want to hear your stories and cry with you for the past. I want to find a way to walk into the future together. I want to give Chance Cheerios while I let you sleep in and I want us each to take one of his hands as we swing him up into the air.”

My eyes widen at his dirty words, but it’s the sweet ones that really pull at my emotions. I move toward him and press my lips hard to his as I try to fend off the sudden wave of emotion that rolls over me. Tears prick behind my eyes and I’m not even sure why. “It’s what I want, too,” I confess.

“But I’ve told you before, I will fuck it up. I’m not perfect. I’m not good. I’m damaged, and I will take that out on you. I will find a way to sabotage this even though it feels better than anything else ever has.” He leans his forehead down to mine. “And maybe that’s why I will find a way to sabotage it. I have to get in front of it before I find myself hurt in the end.”

“I won’t hurt you,” I promise.

“Yeah, you will,” he argues. “Because if there’s anything I’ve learned in life, it’s that love hurts.”

“L—love?”

He presses his lips together. “I don’t know, Hannah. I’ve only known you a couple weeks. But it sure feels different than anything else I’ve felt.”

I blink and look down at my lap. “Same for me.”

He ducks his head down to get in my face a little. “You okay?”

I nod. “It feels wrong to feel happy given everything that’s happened.”

“You deserve to be happy, Hannah.”

It’s the second time I’ve had those words tossed at me today. Maybe if I hear it enough times, I’ll actually start to believe it.

“Take me back to the hotel,” I say softly. Because I think it’s time to put a smile on both our faces.