Hacker in Love, page 45
“Well, I’ll be damned.” It’s hard for me to think of Maddy as a sexual being at all, given the brotherly way I love that little cutie. But it’s especially weird for me to think she’s messing around with Keane, of all people. Yes, I noticed the pair exchanging googly eyes upon their arrival yesterday, and then, throughout our poker game last night. But I kept telling myself I was imagining things. Now that I’ve spent some quality time with Keane, I actually like the guy. He’s funny and clever and surprisingly sweet. But even so, I’m still shocked our shy, intelligent Maddy is giving a fuckboy stripper like Keane the time of day. “Does Maddy want to keep it a secret because she’s embarrassed to be messing around with someone like Keane?”
Hannah purses her lips. “I think she’s keeping it on the downlow because it’s nothing but a fun little fling, and she doesn’t want everyone asking her about it after Keane goes back to Seattle.”
“Yeah, that makes sense, given that Keane’s brother lives across the hallway.”
“Exactly. Maddy doesn’t want everyone knowing her business. Speaking of which, I told Maddy I’d stay here tonight to give her and Keane some privacy at the apartment. I assume that’s okay?”
I don’t need to reply. Hannah knows she has a standing invitation to stay here every night for the rest of her life. She knows I consider this place hers, every bit as much as mine, especially because it was Hannah who walked through the front door and instantly fell in love with the place.
“I just hope Keane doesn’t hurt Maddy’s sensitive little heart,” I say. “If you look in the dictionary under fuckboy, there’s a photo of Keane Morgan.”
To my surprise, considering how protective Hannah usually is of her little sister, she doesn’t look concerned. “That’s exactly why I’m not worried,” Hannah says. “Whatever Maddy’s doing with Keane, I’m sure she went in with eyes wide open. Plus, she knows he’s only visiting LA for a few days.”
“Unless he gets picked up by a talent agency and decides to move down here to chase his Hollywood dreams. He was damned good in that showcase tonight.”
“Yeah, but still, what are the odds of all that happening? I’m sure Maddy isn’t expecting an actual relationship with Keane. She’s just having fun. Getting her groove back.” Hannah smiles. “And I’m all for it. This is Maddy’s first fling since Justin died. Hopefully, this means she’s feeling ready to open her heart again when school starts next week.”
“Hopefully, to someone who’s actual boyfriend material.”
Hannah nods. “Wouldn’t it be amazing if Maddy fell in love with someone in film school?”
“Yeah, that’d be great.” I’m rooting for Maddy to find happiness in whatever form, not only because I love Maddy like a sister, but also because I know in my bones the sooner Maddy is having a blast in her new life, the sooner Hannah will feel like the time is right to move in here with me.
“Don’t let Maddy know I told you about her messing around with Keane, okay?” Hannah says. “And, please, don’t tell anyone else.”
I laugh. “Who would I tell? Reed doesn’t give a shit and half the people here don’t even know I’m the owner of this house.”
“Dax, Colin, and Fish are here, remember? Don’t get drunk and blab to any of them.”
“My lips are sealed.”
“Maddy specifically asked me not to say a word to anyone, not even to you, but I didn’t want to lie to you when you asked where she was.”
“I won’t tell the boys of 22 Goats or anyone else. And thank you for not lying to me.”
We share a smile.
“Are you Henn?” someone says. I turn my head and instantly recognize the source of the voice. He’s the lead singer of Danger Doctor Jones, one of Reed’s most popular bands.
“Yeah, hey. We met backstage once.” I shake his hand. “I’m a big fan.”
“Thanks. Reed’s over there, in need of a new partner. I told him I’d let you know on my way to the kitchen.”
I look across the room where Reed has been playing team Patron pong with his assistant, Owen, as his partner, and sure enough, he’s beckoning to me with a commanding look on his face.
“Go on, Henny,” Hannah says. “Nobody keeps Reed Rivers waiting.”
“Maybe I could be the first.”
She chuckles. “While you’re playing, I’ll check the food and booze in the kitchen and order more, if necessary.”
“You’re the best.” I peck Hannah’s cheek and then gallop off through the crowd toward Reed. When I reach my destination, Reed’s former partner, Owen, is gone, and Reed declares it’s time for our “dynamic duo” to crush the team comprised of brothers Kendrick and Kai Cook, the drummer and bassist, respectively, of Fugitive Summer. That’s the band we flew to Chicago months ago to watch perform, and then proceeded to party with them, way too hard, after Reed signed them that night. To my surprise, both brothers instantly recognize me from our night of partying, and they greet me warmly.
I ask the brothers how they and their other bandmates are enjoying living in LA now, and they regale me with some funny stories involving their unpredictable lead singer, Savage.
After a while, though, Reed abruptly ends the conversation with a curt but playful, “Okay, stop fraternizing with the enemy, Peter. It’s time for us to show these two kiddies why we used to dominate at this game in college.”
He’s having a false memory, apparently. Reed and I never dominated together at this or any game. That was Reed and Josh. Those two were unstoppable in everything they played, whether individually or as a team. But, still, I’m drunk, and Reed’s a powerful motivational speaker, so I reply with a fist in the air and a resounding, “Fuck yeah. Let’s do it!”
Forty-five minutes later . . .
Reed and I have not, in fact, shown the kiddies why we used to dominate at this game in college. On the contrary, the Cook brothers have crushed Reed and me to a bloody, Patron-infused pulp in three straight games. In our defense, the Cook boys apparently grew up playing beer pong with their older brother and his friends, whereas Reed and I used to play, only now and again, over a decade ago in our fraternity house. But whatever. The end result is that I’ve never downed so many tequila shots in such a short timeframe in my life. Jesus God. Help me.
“You want to show us kiddies how it’s done again?” Kendrick, the jovial drummer, teases. He spreads his muscular arms toward Reed as if to say, “Come at me, bro!” And, of course, his older brother, Kai, laughs his ass off.
“Fuck yeah, we do!” I shout. “Come on, Reed! Fourth time’s the charm!”
Thank God, Reed grabs my shoulders and saves me from myself. “Rain check, little buddy. I need to get some food and water into you before we play again.”
“I’m fine. Let’s beat their cocky asses!”
“You’re not fine. Thanks for the games, boys. And fuck you.” As the Cook brothers laugh, Reed grabs my arm and pulls my listless body toward the kitchen. “Come on, Pietro.”
“Thank you,” I whisper to Reed. “So fucking much.” As I salute the Cook brothers, Reed hurls my slack body onto his back and carries me into my kitchen like a human backpack. “How are you still sober?” I ask from my perch on Reed’s back. “You downed as much tequila as I did.”
“You mean, why have I not turned into a living Jell-o mold? Because I can hold my liquor, unlike you.”
“Well, that explains it.”
In the kitchen, Reed sets me down in a chair and pours me a huge cup of water. “Drink this,” he commands. “I’ll get you some food.”
As I drink, I marvel at all the attractive and hip people crammed into my new kitchen, many of whom are serving themselves food from large, disposable takeout trays spread out across the island counter. Out of curiosity, I put down my water cup and pop up to peruse the food offerings. Wow. Thanks to Hannah, there’s a virtual smorgasbord here: lobster macaroni ‘n’ cheese, cheeseburger sliders, sushi, tacos, and more. Plus, all kinds of booze with mixers. Cookies and cupcakes, too. It’s damned impressive.
“Can you believe Hannah did all this?” I say to no one in particular, since Reed has gotten distracted and is now chatting with someone I don’t know. “She’s so amazing,” I add with a happy sigh. “So nurturing and thoughtful.” I jerk my head up. “You know what? I’m going to propose to her right fucking now!” I haphazardly pull out the ring box from my pocket—the one I’ve been carrying around with me for months now. “Hannah!” I shout. “Where are you, baby? I have something important to ask youuuuu!”
“What the fuck?” Reed shouts. In two seconds flat, he’s at my side, snatching the ring box out of my drunken hand. “No, Peter,” he chastises. “Bad boy.”
I laugh.
“You can’t drunkenly propose to her at a spontaneous house-warming party, dumbass! We’ve already talked about this. You’re gonna do it in Paris, remember?”
My shoulders slump. “I said that when I thought I could take Hannah to Paris next month. Turns out, she doesn’t have vacation time from work till early summer.”
“Okay, then you’ll do it then. The Paris Plan is perfect. Don’t mess with it.”
“But it’s too long to wait. I’m dying to ask her.”
“You’ll survive. There’s no better plan than proposing to her at the top of the Eiffel Tower, exactly like you said. Remember? Now, pull yourself together.”
I flap my lips together. “I guess you’re right.”
Reed rolls his eyes. “Jesus. You’re so impulsive when you get shitfaced—a goddamned loose cannon.”
“That’s because I have to be so fucking methodical and careful all the time for work. It feels good to let loose sometimes.”
“Yeah, but not about this.” Reed slips the ring box into his pocket. “When I get home, I’ll put this in my safe, so you don’t get drunk again and stupidly ask her before Paris.” Reed motions to the island. “Did you get something to eat?”
“No. You said you were getting it for me.”
“I did? Well, that hardly seems necessary. Fill a plate. Eat something to counteract all that tequila.”
I slump over the island on my forearms. “I can’t wait to propose. I love her so much.”
“Yes, I know. Eat.”
I lift my head. “Do you really think Paris is a good plan?”
“It’s an amazing plan. Eat.”
“I don’t think simply taking her to the top of the Eiffel Tower is good enough, though. Not when any tourist could go there for any occasion or no occasion at all. How would that be special?”
“It’ll be special. It’s fucking Paris.”
“When it comes to me giving Hannah gifts, I’m not allowed to rely on hacking anymore. Did I tell you I promised her that? So that means, when I ask her, she’s gonna be surrounded by a bunch of strangers. Also, I won’t be able to make sure my proposal is timed perfectly with the sparkles. I really want it to start sparkling when she says yes, you know? But how can I do that if I can’t—”
“Okay, stop. I can’t take it anymore.” Reed exhales with exasperation. “I’ll handle everything, okay? If only you’ll promise to stop talking about this, for the love of fuck.”
I slide my forearms out, until my chest is flush with the cool marble of my kitchen island, and then turn my head and lay my cheek onto the smooth, cool surface. “How could you possibly handle everything, when you can’t hack the Eiffel Tower, either?”
“I’ve got a business partner with some connections in France. He’s good friends with a couple French billionaires. If he can’t help me, then I bet Josh’s uncle can. One way or another, we’ll figure out a way for you to get up there and have a little privacy and some well-timed sparkles. But listen, if I’m gonna go to all this trouble for you, then you’ve got to promise not to spontaneously propose to her before then, or I’m gonna fucking throttle you.”
I straighten up excitedly. Even with all the tequila in my bloodstream, my heart is suddenly racing. “I promise. You really think you can hook all that up for me?”
“I’m pretty sure.”
“Let’s call Josh now to see if his uncle can help.”
Reed laughs. “That’s a great idea, actually. I’m sure Josh will get a kick out of seeing you like this. It’s been a while since Shitfaced Henn has made an appearance.”
I pull out my phone and place the FaceTime call, and a moment later, we’re staring at Josh and Kat’s smiling faces. They’re in bed, their infant daughter snuggled between them.
After warm greetings all around, Reed says, “You’re missing a great housewarming party featuring an appearance from Shitfaced Henn.”
Josh looks down at his sleeping baby girl and says, “I wouldn’t trade places with you for anything. Not even to see Shitfaced Henn. In fact, there’s no place I’d rather be.” He winks at me. “No offense, Henny. Congrats on the new place.”
“No offense taken. I wish I could be doing exactly what you’re doing, honestly. With my own wife and baby, though. Not with yours.”
As Josh and Kat chuckle, Reed says, “I just now had to talk Henn out of drunkenly proposing to Hannah on the fly. I’m hoping we can all help him plan the perfect proposal for Paris, so he doesn’t fuck things up by doing something half-assed before then.”
I tell them my concerns, including the important part about me wanting to time my proposal with the Tower’s famous sparkles. When Kat asks what I mean by that, I explain that the Eiffel Tower’s highest point is programmed to glitter gloriously against the night sky for a full five minutes at the top of every hour.
“Oooh, I agree the proposal should be timed with the sparkles,” Kat says. “How romantic.”
“Okay, leave everything to me, Henny,” Josh says. “You helped make my proposal to Kat perfect, so now I’ll return the favor.”
“Really? Wow. Thanks so much.”
“Hello, Hannah!” Kat shouts at top volume, out of nowhere.
Everyone clamps their lips shut as Hannah appears at my shoulder, carrying a stack of large takeout containers. After placing her load onto the island, she says, “Oh, hey, Faradays! Are you giving us an update on Baby Gracie? What’d I miss?”
“Not much,” Kat says. “Henn just wanted us to join the housewarming party via FaceTime for a few minutes.”
“Aw, how sweet.” Hannah leans forward and sticks her nose into my phone. “Let me see that baby up close. Put the phone right up to her sleeping face.”
Kat complies, and for the next several minutes, the group talks about Baby Gracie: the fact that she adamantly refuses to fall asleep unless someone is holding her; the fact that she’s already got her daddy wrapped firmly around her tiny finger; and, of course, the fact that she’s the spitting image of her gorgeous mommy.
After a while, though, Reed says, “Henn and I have to go now. The Cook brothers beat us three straight times in Patron pong, so we need to find them and demand a rematch.”
Kat scoffs. “You should have played with Hannah as your partner. Banana’s an ace at beer pong.”
Reed looks at Hannah, his eyebrows raised. “Is this true?”
Hannah shrugs. “Well, I’m not sure I’m an ace, per se, but, yeah, I’m pretty good.”
“She’s being humble,” Kat calls out. “During my birthday pub crawl, Hannah beat every opponent in every bar we went into. She was a beer pong sniper. A can’t-miss assassin.”
Reed turns from Hannah to me and thwaps me across the head in mock disgust. “You didn’t think to tell me this little factoid about your girlfriend while we were getting our asses kicked three times?”
“I didn’t know! I’ve never seen Hannah play beer pong.”
“Well, watch and be amazed now,” Kat says. “Really, the back of Hannah’s jersey at the wedding should have said ‘Hannah Banana Beer-Pong Milliken.”
After shooting an icy glare at me, Reed gallantly offers his arm to Hannah. “Come on, partner. Let’s go kick some Cook-brother ass together.”
“I’ll do my best,” Hannah says.
“Oh, hang on,” Reed says, stopping on a dime. “Hannah, would you mind going out there and reserving our spot for next game, while I talk to Josh about something, real quick? I’ll be right there.”
“You’ve got it, partner,” Hannah chirps. And off she goes, practically skipping out of the kitchen.
When Hannah’s gone, Reed slides his arm around my shoulders and returns to Josh and Kat on my phone. “Hey, Faradays, let’s set up a time to brainstorm with Henn this week about his proposal in Paris.” Reed rustles my hair. “If we put our heads together, I know we’ll come up with something that’ll be worth Henny’s wait . . . and even more importantly, worthy of our sweet little Hannah Banana Beer-Pong Milliken.”
49
HANNAH
Ooh la la!
I’ve finally fulfilled a lifelong dream and made it to Paris, bitches! And it’s everything I dreamed it’d be and more. Enchanté! Henn brought me here to celebrate my twenty-eighth birthday today, but like I told him last night at our fancy hotel, I feel like we’re celebrating so much more than the day of my birth. We’re also celebrating the joys of being alive, healthy, and madly in love with the most perfectly imperfect person who ever lived.
As promised, Henn and I have made a conscious effort to reveal our imperfections and flaws to each other over the past several months, and as it’s turned out, the exercise has only made our bond that much stronger. Our love and commitment that much more unbreakable. Which, in turn, has made our relationship even more . . . well, perfect.
Speaking of perfect things, Paris is already the best vacation of my life, and we haven’t even been here a full day yet. We landed here yesterday afternoon after flying in on Reed’s luxurious private jet—shout out to Reed for the amazing birthday gift!—and we spent our first evening wandering around the city, hand-in-hand, like wide-eyed, jetlagged, giddy zombies. Henn said we had to stay awake until it was a reasonable hour to crash, local time. And my seasoned traveler of a boyfriend was right. Today, after a long sleep, I feel bright-eyed and bushy-tailed and ready to tourist my ass off.
