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I did not come here to make friends, but hurt my weird Cheez-It friend or my other weird soccer friend and I will beat you up with a lead pipe till you piss blood for the rest of your life.
I laugh. “Oh no. I was a total dumbass. Still am, for the most part.
Wow. A male engineer who’s not an asshole. The bar is pretty low, but I’m nevertheless impressed.
Plus, she’s a generous soul. She’d want her friend and her cousin-or-something to get laid.
“Not that long. So, I graduate, and I decide that I want to work at NASA and not for some weirdo billionaire who treats space exploration like it’s his own homemade penis-enlargement remedy.”
“Just relax and think of Mars, okay? I’ll be there soon.”
“Shh, it’s okay.” He kisses my temple. It’s wet from the slide of my tears. “It’s okay.”
“Hannah, there is nowhere else I’d rather be.”
“Is that why you came to rescue me?” I tease. “Because you were thinking about it? Because you have been secretly pining for years?” He meets my eyes squarely. “I don’t know that there was anything secret about that.”
“Hannah, if that changes. If you ever find yourself able to believe that someone could care about you that much. And if you wanted to actually . . . have dinner with that someone.” He lets out a laugh. “Well . . . Please, consider me. You know where to find me.”
but I also want you to come to me when you need help with your taxes and moving your furniture. I want fucking to be only one of the million things I do for you, and I want to be—” He stops. Seems to collect himself and straightens, as if to give me space. To give us space. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to crowd you. You can . . .”
“Is that a yes on dinner?” He laughs, low and beautiful and a little rueful. And after looking at me like no one else ever has before, what he says is, “Yes, Hannah. It is a yes on dinner.”
