Chapter 2 – The Misunderstanding
Evan returned to his room with the corners of his mouth fighting for their lives.
Hannah's husband really was a man who had been handed fine wine and somehow forgot how drinking worked.
Evan was thrilled.
No. Horrified.
Very, very horrified.
With that deeply moral thought, he fell asleep again.
In his dream, Hannah wore a tiny swimsuit and gave him a massage, leaning close enough to ask whether he felt good.
When Evan woke, daylight had already filled the room.
"Evan, breakfast."
Hannah knocked on his door.
Evan rubbed his sleepy eyes and opened it.
Hannah stood outside in a black fitted skirt. The cut hugged her hips neatly, and above it, her blouse made the pale softness at her chest clearly visible. Her slender white arms were bare, and a faint fragrance drifted from her body.
Evan froze.
With makeup on, Hannah was devastating.
Calling her beautiful felt lazy. She looked like the kind of woman men wrote bad checks for.
"Evan?"
Hannah called him twice before he came back to himself.
"Oh. Right. Breakfast."
He quickly moved his gaze away.
Hannah seemed to feel where he had been looking. She lifted a hand to cover her chest, but it did not cover much. The neckline still dipped deep enough to make Evan's eyes want to file a complaint against him.
"Go wash up," she said. "Then eat."
After washing, Evan sat at the table.
Hannah and Rowan sat together.
"Evan," Hannah said, "this is Rowan."
Then she turned to her husband. "Honey, this is Evan."
Rowan was enthusiastic, almost too enthusiastic, constantly putting food into Evan's bowl.
"Don't be shy," Rowan said. "Treat this place like your own home. If your father hadn't saved Hannah back then, we wouldn't have today."
"Thank you, Rowan."
Rowan's attitude was warm enough that Evan's opinion of him recovered a little.
After breakfast, Hannah and Rowan went out to handle business.
Evan knew, without anyone saying it, that they were probably going to see a specialist.
Before leaving, Hannah gave Evan a key and told him he could watch television at home or go out for a walk.
Evan watched TV for a while, but he could not sit still.
This was Harbor City. Ridgefall could not compare to a place like this.
He went out, wandered around like a country bumpkin trying not to look like one, and eventually bought a cheap set of clothes.
On the way back, he did not want to waste money on a taxi, so he squeezed onto a bus.
There were no seats. Evan grabbed the hanging strap. Behind him, a big man kept pressing forward.
In front of Evan stood a young woman in a black camisole and denim hot pants. She looked about his age, pinching her nose against the sweat smell while enduring the packed bus.
After a while, more people got on.
The bus became even more crowded.
The man behind Evan pushed him. Evan was forced forward into the girl in front.
At last, she could not take it anymore. She turned and glared at him.
"What the hell are you pressing against me for?"
"One," Evan answered.
She froze. "What?"
Evan looked innocent. "You asked what I was pressing with."
"Are you sick? I told you to stop squeezing me!"
"What can I do? The guy behind me is squeezing me."
She cursed him under her breath, glared again, and got off at the next stop.
Evan watched her leave and sighed.
City girls really had tempers.
When he returned to Hannah's apartment, it was already afternoon.
The moment Evan opened the door, he heard the shower running.
A few minutes later, the bathroom door opened, and the scent of body wash floated out with the steam.
Evan looked up without thinking.
His gaze locked in place.
Hannah had nothing on underneath. She wore only an oversized white shirt.
The hem barely covered the top of her thighs. Her two straight legs were exposed, long and pale, and droplets still clung to the skin at her chest.
Water slid from her collarbone into the loose neckline. The thin cotton at her chest had grown faintly damp, clinging to the full curve beneath it and showing a soft pale outline that made Evan's throat go dry.
Hannah wiped her hair casually. A few damp strands stuck to her slender neck.
Only when she looked up did she notice Evan staring.
Then she seemed to remember she had nothing on underneath.
"You're back?" she said, pretending to be calm. "I'll change before cooking."
Then she slipped back into her room.
Only after Hannah disappeared did Evan finally remember how to breathe.
"Damn," he muttered. "What a woman."
When Hannah cooked later, Evan went to help.
In the kitchen, Evan washed vegetables while Hannah stir-fried. But from beginning to end, Hannah did not dare to meet his eyes.
She did not know how much Evan had seen.
Just now, under that shirt, she really had been wearing nothing. Her bra and panties were both in the wash.
When dinner was ready, Hannah said, "Rowan is drinking with business people tonight. He won't be back. It'll just be us."
During dinner, Hannah liked crossing her legs.
Under the table, her leg brushed Evan's calf from time to time, making his skin itch with a feeling he had no way to explain politely.
After dinner, Evan cleaned up without being asked and washed the dishes.
Hannah sat on the sofa and watched television for a while, then went back to her room.
Evan returned to his room, changed clothes, and prepared to wash them before taking a shower.
When he opened the washing machine, he saw a skirt inside.
It was the one Hannah had worn that morning.
Evan thought about it and tossed his own clothes in with it. Save water. Save detergent. A poor man respected resources.
Evan showered while the washing machine spun.
In her room, Hannah was reading. Suddenly, she narrowed her eyes and listened.
The washing machine.
Her heart jumped.
Her underwear was still inside, wrapped in the skirt.
Had Evan seen it?
What should she do?
That set was one Hannah had bought especially for a little husband-and-wife fun. It was very sexy, the kind of thing she had worn last night hoping to stir something in Rowan.
Unfortunately, Rowan had not been useful.
She had worn it since last night and had only just changed out of it.
Finished.
If Evan saw it, would he think she was some shameless woman?
Would he think a respectable married woman should never own something that daring?
While Evan showered, Hannah felt every second drag.
Finally, the washing machine stopped.
The sound of the shower also stopped.
Hannah tiptoed to the bathroom door.
As soon as Evan came out, she planned to rush in and take the underwear away.
Then there would be no embarrassment.
But after changing clothes, Evan did not leave the bathroom.
He opened the washing machine.
Since the weather was hot, wet clothes would smell if left too long. He might as well hang them now.
First he took out his own clothes.
Then, hidden among the fabric, he saw two pieces of purple cloth.
Curious, he picked them up.
His heart immediately sped up, and heat rushed into his face.
It was not as if Evan had never seen women's underwear before. Auntie Rain's were red, huge, and could probably be turned into a tablecloth with minor tailoring.
But the one in his hand was different.
Small.
Delicate.
Lace along the edges.
In the middle, only a thin layer of gauze.
There was barely anything meant to cover anything.
It was two straps and a whisper pretending to be clothing.
Good heavens.
Hannah wore this?
Evan's mind immediately, and very disobediently, began imagining how Hannah would look in it.
Click.
The bathroom door opened.
Evan turned his head.
Hannah stood there and saw him holding her panties, studying them like an antique expert.