Total pages in book: 177
Estimated words: 169272 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 846(@200wpm)___ 677(@250wpm)___ 564(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 169272 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 846(@200wpm)___ 677(@250wpm)___ 564(@300wpm)
Hannah straightens up from the telescope. “Take a peek. It’s so beautiful.”
I stare at her for a long beat, before finally releasing the paper in my pocket and stepping forward to take a peek. “Oh, wow. Yeah. Beautiful.”
“How long did you rent the place?”
Fuck. It’s time for me to decide. Am I going to lie in response to that question or not? Am I going to start the process of divulging the gist of my secrets to Hannah now or not?
“We’ve got the place for another hour or so,” I say. “The security cameras will turn back on at ten, and we’ll need to be gone when that happens.” I feel myself blushing, but I forge ahead, anyway. “I didn’t actually rent this place out. Not officially.” I hold my breath as Hannah’s brow furrows.
She tilts her head. “We’re not allowed to be here?”
“Not legitimately, no.”
She gasps. “Someone who works here is making money on the side by renting the place out on the down-low?”
Aw, fuck. I’m losing my nerve. In a flash, my brain engages in a violent tug-of-war. Should I correct her or not? That narrative works pretty damned well for my purposes—it deftly reveals the illicit nature of our visit without inviting a stream of questions I don’t want to answer quite yet. “You guessed it,” I say on an exhale.
Whether I hacked into the planetarium or obtained access through a rogue employee making money on the side, the result is the same, right? We’re trespassing. Committing a crime, albeit a petty one that won’t hurt a soul, all in the name of having a sexy, memorable, fun adventure. If Hannah accepts this version of technical illegality as the cost of making an exciting memory, then surely her acceptance will inch me even closer to revealing more of the truth to her, one day soon. Not the whole truth, of course. Not even Josh and Reed know that. But even if I’ll never tell Hannah the full, granular truth about my superpowers, I know in my gut I should at least tell her as much as Kat and Sarah know about them. The only question is timing, and my gut also tells me one week is too soon to take that leap of faith.
I swallow hard and say, “I hope you don’t mind me employing some questionable, albeit harmless, tactics to make Lala Land come to life for you.”
Hannah looks wholly unbothered. “Not at all. I think a tiny bit of breaking and entering is perfectly acceptable for a great cause.”
My entire body feels electrified. “My thoughts exactly.”
“Actually, now that I know we’re technically trespassing here, it’s like we’re fulfilling yet another fantasy of mine. One I didn’t even realize I had. We’re Denver and Stockholm, baby!” She’s referring to the show we’ve been binge-watching together this week—Money Heist. Every time we watch that show, Hannah goes on and on about her obsession with the romance of Denver and Stockholm—a bank robber with a heart of gold and his sexy, smart hostage.
Hannah steps forward and touches my cheek. “Thank you for tonight and for every date you’ve arranged this week. You make me feel so special.”
“As you should.”
She kisses me and whispers, “I’m falling so hard for you, Henny.”
My heart stops. My breathing hitches. Saying you’re “falling” for someone is a world apart from admitting you’ve already fallen. Thank God, I didn’t pull out that paper and say the whole damned thing a few minutes ago. As it turns out, Josh and Reed were exactly right: I need to wait at least a month to tell her.
“I’m falling hard for you, too, Hannah.”
Her blue eyes dance. “Do you want to eat some yummy cupcakes while checking out the exhibits?”
“Let’s do it.”
For the next thirty minutes, that’s exactly what we do, until an alarm on my phone tells me it’s time to get the hell out of Dodge.
“We should throw this away at another location,” Hannah says, holding up the pink bakery box. “If they empty the trash cans at the end of each day, they might realize someone was here after-hours in the morning.”
“Look at you! One petty crime and you’re already a criminal mastermind.”
She shrugs. “I listen to true crime podcasts all the time. And rule number one for getting away with murder is leave no forensic evidence behind.”
“You’re a genius.”
“Stick with me, kid.”
“You’re in charge of planning all our heists, robberies, and planetarium trespasses from now on.”
“Deal.” The pink cupcake box in one hand, Hannah slides the other one into mine, and we walk as a criminal unit toward the back service door. The night didn’t go exactly as I’d envisioned it. I never showed her the piece of paper in my pocket or told her the magic words that have been practically burning the tip of my tongue. But overall, I think it went stupendously well, regardless. In the end, I stumbled into making a hot fantasy come true for Hannah, while also dipping a tentative toe into the Pool of Truth.