Hannah. (Van Den Bosch #7)

Chapter 23

23

Johan

For the second night in a row, I’m given the surreal gift of Hannah sleeping in my arms for the entire night. Her breathing is soft, and her back is tucked firmly against my chest, her bottom nestled against my groin.

Her hair tickles my nose, and the softness of her skin makes me sigh in contentment.

It’s early, just past dawn, and the day is going to be full of packing and goodbyes to our little sanctuary, but I can’t resist taking just a few moments longer to linger here. To savor the peace and beauty of the morning and the girl in my arms.

With Hannah, it’s not just the physical bliss of last night, though there's no denying the sheer pleasure we’ve experienced over the last two days. It’s so much deeper than that. With every passing moment, I’m falling harder, and there's nothing I can do to stop it.

I know she feels the same way. The way she looked at me, the way her body responded to my touch, the way she whispered my name—it's more than just desire. There’s a connection. There’s emotion.

And knowing that makes it even harder to say goodbye to all of this.

We have to be careful, smart, and, most of all, trust that what we’re doing is worth the risk.

I press a soft kiss to the top of Hannah’s head, breathing in the sweet scent of her hair. She sighs softly, snuggling closer to me, and I tighten my arm around her waist, holding her close.

We might be saying goodbye to Portmeirion, but we’re just getting started with each other.

We take breakfast out on the stone patio, and it makes me laugh internally to think about how little time we’ve spent in the cottage properly. Instead, we've passed our hours in the bedroom suite, both of us knowing that the scenery and cottage were really just afterthoughts. We came here for each other, the privacy, and the chance to spend uninterrupted time discovering this powerful thing between us.

After enjoying a hearty breakfast of fresh fruit, toast, and eggs, we lie on the patio’s double lounger to savor these last moments together. Sitting up, our backs against the cushioned backrest and legs stretched out in front of us, we bask in the rare sunlight.

“I'll miss this,” she says softly. I already know what she means because I feel it, too, but I humor her anyway. “Portmeirion?”

Hannah shoves playfully at me. “Don’t be obtuse. You know what I mean—being able to hold you, touch you, and sleep beside you.”

“We're living on the same campus,” I remind her. “You’re talking like this is all over. It’s just the beginning.”

“I know, but it’s just not the same thing.”

She’s right, but I don't want to admit it. Leaving the bubble we’ve created here will be hard, and the reality of trying to hide our relationship from the rest of the world will put a strain on us. Hannah is smart and incredibly observant. I’m sure she can see the strife in the coming weeks just as clearly as I can.

Instead of admitting it, I cup Hannah’s chin, tilting her face towards mine. I kiss her gently, letting my lips linger against hers. Her mouth opens, and our tongues tangle together. We’re still sitting up on the lounger when Hannah pushes me back until I’m fully laid down, her body draped over mine. It’s lazy and gentle. Unhurried.

“Hannah,” I murmur, my hands moving to grip her ass, content to pretend that everything is fine right along with her. “We have to pack.”

“I know.” Her breath is hot against my neck as she kisses and sucks a trail from my earlobe down to my collarbone. “Stop reminding me.”

“You have class tomorrow, and I have a class to teach. The real world is going to intrude, and we’re going to have to face it.”

“Shut up.” Hannah lifts her head and presses her lips to mine. Hard. I can feel the urgency in her, and I know that I’m not the only one who is dreading what’s coming. “Just shut up and kiss me.”

I do. I do it because Hannah is intoxicating, and I’m powerless to resist her.

I don’t take her right there on the patio under the open sky, even though I can’t think of a single thing I’ve ever wanted more in life. Instead, we kissed, held each other, and watched the white fluffy clouds floating by, not saying a single thing.

When we finally pack, it's around one pm, and the drive back is long, filled with stolen glances and quiet music. Hannah’s hand is in mine, and I’m tempted to keep driving until we’re somewhere else, far away, where we can hide away for a few more days in another town, another inn, another bed. That's the fantasy, anyway, but the real world is waiting for us.

“Should we have a plan?” she asks me, and I shake my head.

“There are too many variables. Let's just keep it simple for now. Act like nothing has changed in public, and I promise I will make time for us to be alone as often as I can. I’ll talk to Astrid to make sure she knows it’s over. And once I’m no longer your professor, we can start figuring out how to be official and inform our families.”

“Mmm,” Hannah hums thoughtfully, gazing out the window. “I assume there's no timeline on all of that, then.”

I wince. “Ah, no. Sorry. I know Astrid is going to want to talk to me after this weekend, so meeting up with her should be simple enough. Whether she takes it without causing a fuss is another thing entirely.”

Hannah shifts in her seat, turning to face me fully, her eyes searching mine as the landscape whizzes by outside the car windows. “Are you going to tell her about us?” she asks, her voice tinged with uncertainty.

I keep my eyes on the road, gripping the steering wheel a little tighter. “Do you want me to?” My question hangs in the air as I glance at her briefly before focusing back on the highway.

She bites her lip, looking down at her hands resting in her lap. “Maybe… I don’t know.” Her voice’s almost a whisper, filled with a mix of hope and hesitation. The tension between us is palpable, mingling with the steady hum of the car engine and the rhythmic thump of tires on asphalt.

“If you prefer, we could make it a weekend-only thing until the school year is over, and I don’t have to mention you to her at all. We can pretend it happened sometime after I cut ties with Astrid completely, act like it happened naturally….”

“No,” Hannah cuts me off firmly. “I refuse to be your secret for that long. I know you need to talk to Astrid, and we need to be careful until you stop being my teacher, but after that? We’re just two consenting adults involved with one another. That’s it. No shame, no hiding.”

“Alright.” I squeeze her hand gently, not wanting to prolong the discussion. Her skin is warm and reassuring under my touch. “Just trying to make this easy.”

She turns to face me, her eyes filled with determination and understanding. “It’s not going to be easy,” she reminds me, her voice steady. “But it’s not supposed to be. It’s not a bad thing. It’s just life. Life’s hard sometimes and complicated. The only thing we can control is how we handle it.”

“I feel like I should be giving you advice, but you’re already much more mature than I feel right now.” I drag a hand through my hair, chuckling, my voice heavy with self-deprecation. “I feel like some 15-year-old boy sneaking around behind his parents’ backs.”

“Oh, Johan….” Hannah leans across the center console and brushes a kiss across my cheek. “You’re the furthest thing from a kid, trust me.”

The car is suddenly stuffy, and I resist the urge to crank the AC.

“Not helping,” I mutter.

Hannah giggles. “Good.”

We arrive back at Cambridge after dusk. The trip was long, but neither of us complained. Not with so much at stake.

I pull into the small faculty parking lot near her dorm, which, at this hour, is dark and empty.

“I'll walk you up,” I tell Hannah, but she hesitates, hands folded in her lap.

“Maybe that’s not such a good idea. It’s Sunday night, after all, and the halls and common areas are going to be packed. If you want to keep this secret, then maybe….”

I hate this. “I do want to keep it secret, but I also want to kiss you goodnight.”

Hannah looks out the window, where we are parked tucked in a row of empty cars, my lights switched off. No one would ever know we were here unless they went around looking in windows. “You'll just have to kiss me here, then.”

I switch in my seat, facing her fully. “Hannah, I’m serious. This is going to be difficult. I know we agreed, and you said that’s okay, but?—”

She silences me with a finger to my mouth. “Johan. Kiss me goodnight. Then I’m going inside. Don’t worry, we’ll see each other in the morning.”

I sigh, but I do as she asks. Our mouths meet, my fingers carding through her hair as I gently cup the back of her neck. Any second now, one of us will break the kiss, and she’ll grab her bag, disappearing into the night and up to her private dorm alone. That’s definitely what's going to happen, right?

So why is this sweet, subtle goodbye kiss turning so fucking heated all of a sudden?

Hannah is panting, her mouth hot and wet against mine, and she’s got her whole body twisted awkwardly in the seat, one hand clutching at me while the other grips the dash.

“Johan,” she gasps. “In the back. Now.”

“Yeah, yeah,” I fumble with my seat belt while Hannah is scrambling across the center console and into the backseat. I’m following after her, kicking at her bag on the floor, which is caught around one of her feet.

“Are you sure?” I ask her because it’s stupid and irrelevant at this point, but the responsible, sane part of my brain is trying desperately to cling to any semblance of reason.

“If you ask me that one more time,” Hannah says, her voice breathy and lips swollen, “I’m going to scream.”

Fair enough.

In the cramped backseat of my car, I tug Hannah’s leggings down her hips, shoving them and her underwear down just enough that she’s bare and exposed to me. My back is to the window, two long legs awkwardly stretched out and bent on the seats while she hovers over me, hands on my shoulders for balance. There's almost no light, and my hands are clumsy at my fly, but I free myself, Hannah’s breath catching as she watches my cock spring out into the open air.

“Now, Hannah. I need you now,” I breathe, guiding her hips down.

It’s awkward, uncomfortable, and somehow the hottest thing I’ve ever experienced in my life. Hannah’s moans echo off the windows, and the seatbelt digs into my back. My neck is at a weird angle, but none of that matters when I’m sliding inside her slick warmth.

“Yes, Johan. Oh fuck.” Her forehead is against mine, and her hair falls in a curtain around us. “God, you feel so good.”

We move together, and I hold her hips, bracing my feet against the door. Hannah rocks against me, and I drive upwards, my cock buried deep inside her. The car is rocking on its wheels, and it’s a miracle no one has found us, but I don’t care.

Logically, I know we aren’t nearly as secluded as it feels. There must be students milling about outside, walking from the library, or on their way to a late dinner, but here? Now? This car is the entire universe, Hannah and I the only living things left in the world.

It’s madness. It’s heaven.

I’m lost to the feeling of her body wrapped around mine, her skin beneath my fingers, her voice in my ears, the taste of her on my tongue, the scent of her arousal and shampoo filling my nose.

At first, it’s lust, pure and simple, and it’s incredible. But with my fingertips digging into the flesh of her hips where her shirt is hiked up and the desperate, needy way she rolls her body with each thrust, the energy changes. It all comes pouring out—the passion that has us fucking in the backseat of my car on campus, the ever-growing feelings between us, and frighteningly, the frantic fear that someway, somehow, this might be the last time we can have each other.

An edge enters into the sweetness of it all.

Hannah kisses me, and it’s biting, a sharp clash of teeth and tongue. We aren’t making love. We’re fucking. It’s raw and rough, and Hannah’s nails rake against my scalp, making me groan.

“Johan,” she cries, her breath hot against my neck. “God, I’m gonna come. Make me come. I need to come.”

I snake a hand between our bodies, thumbing over her clit. Hannah’s knees tighten around my waist, and her thighs tremble. With a strangled cry, she comes hard, pussy clenching around my length, and it’s all I need to follow after her, my release spilling inside her with a growl.

It’s over too fast. It’s not fast enough.

I come so hard it’s like an out-of-body experience. Stars burst before my eyes, and I groan through my last few unsteady thrusts, relishing the feeling of her warm channel spasming around me. We’re both shuddering and clutching at one another and as the last aftershocks of her orgasm roll through her, she bites down on my shoulder to stifle her cries. My leg muscles cramp and scream out in agony, my back cracking as my physical form fights for any spare inch of space. But my mind, my heart? They’re completely at peace. For now.

We’re both breathing heavily, sweaty, and spent in the small, cramped space, wincing in discomfort.

Hannah’s voice is barely audible. “That was…”

I nod, feeling the weight of exhaustion. “Yeah. It was.”

She glances up, her voice a whisper, “I should get up.”

“Probably.”

But neither of us moves.

Hannah shifts slightly, grimacing. “My legs really hurt.”

I chuckle softly, wincing as I adjust my position. “My spine is going to be a pretzel.”

“Let me just catch my breath.” She buries her face in my neck, and I hold her tight, savoring the moment, the memory. Hannah is boneless on my chest, mostly dressed still. My arms wrap around her, and I press a kiss to her damp hair, helping her to wiggle her leggings back up.

“Not exactly the romantic goodbye I was intending,” she says, her words slightly muffled by my shirt.

“You could have stopped me,” I remind her with a grin.

“No. Not even a little. Definitely not.”

We laugh, and it’s not long before we reluctantly separate and make ourselves somewhat decent. We slip out of the car, and Hannah grabs her bag from the front seat, slinging it over her shoulder.

“I guess this is goodnight,” Hannah tells me, glancing around. “For real this time.”

I brush a loose tendril of her hair behind her ear. “Goodnight, Hannah. I'll see you tomorrow in class.”

“Don’t try and kiss me goodbye. You’re terrible at it.”

Hannah is teasing, her lips curved in a smirk, but her eyes are dancing with emotion.

“That’s true,” I tell her, taking a step closer. “I’m not very good at saying goodbye, but I’m excellent at good morning kisses. How about that? Ten minutes before the lecture in the professor’s office.”

Her expression softens, and she nods in understanding. “Yes. That sounds perfect.”

With a smile and a wave, Hannah turns and disappears into her building.

The world instantly feels a little more dull. Damn.

At first, I circle the campus, windows down, clean air washing away the traces of what Hannah and I had just done in the backseat. It was hot as hell, but the further removed I got from the heat of the moment, the more mortified I became. How in the hell could I have been so reckless? What if I had gotten caught with her? Or had someone seen my car rocking and called the campus police? Fuck, what was I thinking?!

I…wasn't thinking. Of course, I wasn’t. The only thing in my skull at that moment had been the chanting of a single word. Hannah, Hannah, Hannah.

Oh, I’m going to have to be careful with her. I’m the older one of us two; I need to make better calls. But damn, does she make it hard.

Once my head has cleared and rational thoughts have returned, I drive home. I’m not tired in the slightest, and it’s not terribly late. I can unpack, answer some emails, and make a cup of tea. Maybe read a bit before bed.

There’s one thing that I’m going to have to deal with, heavy in the bottom of my small luggage bag—my phone, which has been turned off since that call from Lukas. I never thought there would be a time in my life when I would be uninterested in hearing about archaeology, but everything is boring when Hannah is with me.

My messages and emails have been on “Do Not Disturb” for the last two days, and I know that I’m going to have a hell of a lot to answer. Work is one thing—it was the weekend, and although it isn’t normal for me, it isn’t out of the question for someone not to take correspondence.

Astrid, though? I know good and fucking well she’s going to have a lot to say.

I haven’t been completely truthful with Hannah. While it’s true that Astrid and I aren’t together, the last time I saw her, I agreed to discuss our relationship further on Monday. Then I went radio silent. She undoubtedly still has hope for us and has probably been trying to get in touch with me all weekend.

Steeling myself, I head up to my apartment, throwing my bag on the floor by the door and turning on all the lights. The place seems foreign and impersonal. I don’t spend much time here, and it feels like a hotel rather than a home.

I go through the motions of making tea, ignoring the potential bomb that is my phone. After settling in at my kitchen table and wrapping my hands around a hot mug, I finally, reluctantly, power on the device.

Several emails, some missed calls, one voice message, and one text.

I exhale.

Two messages are all I have. Only two messages, and of course, they’re from Astrid.

Somehow, the lack of messages is more terrifying than if there were hundreds of them. My stomach drops to the floor, and my hands tingle even as I clutch the heated mug. This is it.

First, I open the voicemail and press the phone to my ear.

“Johan.” Her voice is frigid, flat. No hello. No friendly, light-hearted tone.

“I’m with your mom and mine having dinner after the art gallery, and, well, I tried calling you since this afternoon, but your phone is off. It’s been hours like this. Is everything okay? Anyway, I guess I’ll see you on Monday. We have things to discuss, you and I, remember? You won’t be able to avoid me any longer. Don’t bother trying, either.”

She hangs up. There’s no goodbye, no see you later.

Just...nothing.

Fuck.

The next text was sent today, just an hour ago. It’s equally as sparse, but the ten words are enough to send me reeling.

Astrid: I hope the two of you had a good time x

Fuck! I break out in a cloying sweat, abandoning my phone and my tea, pacing the room like I’m electrified.

What do I do? Do I reply? Do I pretend like I have no idea what she’s talking about?

Hannah has told no one, that’s clear. Otherwise, her entire world would be imploding right now, too. So, how did Astrid find out? No, it’s not worth playing dumb. I’m not a good liar, anyway. I could play innocent and surprised, but she’d never buy it. I’d already planned to tell her the truth, just as slowly and as gently as possible. This… technically doesn’t interfere with that, except for the glaring fact I kissed Astrid goodbye Thursday night, right before going on a romantic getaway with her good friend Hannah.

Oh, hell.

I decide to get a little liquid courage, pouring a whiskey over ice and settling onto the couch. There are several responses I could give. I could apologize and beg for forgiveness. I could play ignorant. I could tell her the truth.

Finally, after another drink and a half, I settle on one.

Johan: Shall we talk tomorrow as planned? In person?

I don’t expect a response. She’s angry and hurt, and rightly so, and the ball is in her court. To my surprise, less than a minute later, my phone buzzes.

Astrid: Yes.

Short and to the point. Well, then.

One crisis averted—sort of. Now, I just need to figure out how to explain all this to Hannah.

I toss my phone from hand to hand, trying to decide what to do. I can call her right now and get the shock of it over with. It’d be the right thing to do, the honorable thing to do. But I just fucked her in the back seat of my damned car…how am I supposed to tell her that not only did Astrid probably figure out what is going on, but that I wasn’t totally honest about the status of my relationship with her? At least Astrid’s understanding of that status. I’d been completely done with Astrid for some time now. Probably from the second I saw Hannah at that exhibition, I realized that she wasn’t just the girl that had been haunting my dreams anymore. She was a woman...the most captivating woman I had ever seen, and the crush I had been harboring caught fire and turned into an uncontrollable, all-consuming blaze.

It had burned slowly at first, smoldering and building over time. Now, it's an inferno, and Hannah is the gasoline.

I can’t call her. Not until tomorrow, when I see her in person. Hell, maybe not until after I talk to Astrid. The idea of Astrid getting to Hannah first makes me feel ill.

So...that's the plan, then. I have to get to Astrid first and have this talk, preferably before my first lecture. If I can talk to her first, I can minimize and maybe even control the level of heartbreak that is going to come Hannah’s way. I know the two of them are close….well, were close, at least, and one way or another, that friendship is going to be shattered tomorrow.

Swirling the ice in the glass, I start to pace again, bare feet silently wearing an invisible path into the floor. I listen to Astrid’s voicemail again and read her message over and over. She doesn’t explicitly mention Hannah, so is there a possibility that she doesn't actually know what's going on between Hannah and me? Maybe a friend just saw me on the way out of Cambridge with a woman but wasn’t able to provide a real identity. I rub the stubble on my chin, considering it.

It’s not like I can outright ask her. If she doesn’t know it was Hannah, I’m not about to tell on myself over text and give her the opportunity to storm to Hannah’s dorm in the middle of the night demanding answers. It’s going to be touchy work trying to suss out the truth if Astrid tries to play coy. Really, though, what does it matter? I have to tell her it’s Hannah anyway. I promised Hannah as much...promised her that I’d break things off cleanly with Astrid and do the footwork to make our relationship something official. Something we can share with our family and friends once the dust of it all dies down.

This is a shit show.

With a groan, I slump to the couch, burying my head in my hands.

This isn’t the way I wanted things to go. I’ve been such an idiot. Such a selfish, stupid, self-centered idiot. It’s not like me. Well, it’s not like the me of last summer, that’s for sure. The Johan that Hannah has awakened is a greedy, selfish bastard that wanted her enough to fuck everything else up along the way.

Tossing an ice cube into my mouth, I crush it between my teeth as I refill my glass and drain it. I’m going to need another drink, at least before bed.

Hopefully, it’s strong enough to help me sleep tonight.