Hanna didn’t know how she ended up here, pacing back and forth in front of Elordi’s car while he leaned against the hood, watching her with that infuriating smirk. She’d told herself she wasn’t going to talk to him—Finn would hate this—but after days of going in circles, she was desperate. Elordi might not have been her first choice for advice, but he was here, and she needed someone who wasn’t afraid to tell her the truth.
“So, lover boy walked out, huh?” Elordi’s voice was as sharp as his grin, his tone casual but with just enough edge to rile her up.
Hanna stopped pacing, crossing her arms as she glared at him. “It’s not like that.” Her tone was defensive, but even she could hear the uncertainty in it. “We just… needed space.”
Elordi raised an eyebrow, his smirk softening into something almost amused. “Space, huh? That’s what you’re calling it?”
“Yes,” she snapped, more forcefully this time. “Space.”
He tilted his head, studying her for a moment before shrugging. “Alright, if you say so. But let me guess—you’ve been overthinking every second of it since he left, haven’t you?”
Hanna’s jaw tightened, her silence betraying her. She hated how easily he could read her, hated that he was right.
“Thought so,” Elordi said, his voice lighter now, though his expression was more thoughtful than mocking. “You know, for what it’s worth, he’s crazy about you. Most guys would’ve bailed a long time ago.”
His words hit her harder than she expected, and she frowned, unsure how to respond. “Why are you telling me this?”
Elordi straightened slightly, his smirk returning but with an edge of something else—something serious. “Because I’m not most guys,” he said, his gaze locking with hers, lingering just a moment too long. “But I know a good thing when I see it.”
Hanna’s breath hitched, the weight of his words sinking in. She opened her mouth to respond, but her voice faltered. “Elordi—”
“Relax,” he interrupted, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “I’m not making a move, alright? I’m just saying… don’t screw this up.”
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