Love, Utley (Love Letters #1)

“Y-yeah.” She swallows.

I place my left hand on the doorframe for balance but rest my right hand on her thigh, letting her feel I’m right here.

Shouting starts near the front bumpers, the other driver obviously as much of a hothead as Brandon.

I lean a little farther into the car and look at the two sitting in the back seat. “You guys alright?”

They both nod.

“Can one of you call the cops while the other keeps Dipshit out there from getting into a fistfight?” I tip my head to gesture toward Brandon and the other driver, who are still yelling at each other over a couple of damaged bumpers.

“We’re on it,” one of the guys replies as they both exit the car.

When they’re gone, I gently squeeze her leg and say her name. “Hannah.”

The soft material of her shirt vibrates as she pulls in a choppy inhale.

“Babe, I need you to get out of the car.” I don’t want to trigger any bad memories by calling her that, but the familiarity seems to be getting through to her. “I’m gonna unbuckle you, okay?”

“I can,” she practically whispers.

“I know you can.” I give her a little smile as I lift my hand from her thigh and reach across her lap.

The belt clicks, and I lift the buckle, letting it slowly reel back.

Hannah blinks at me.

I place my hand back on her thigh. “I’ll lift you out of this car if you make me, but I’m pretty sure that’ll cause a scene.”

Sirens sound in the distance, and considering we’re in the middle of downtown St. Paul, it’s not a surprise the police response is quick.

Hannah exhales, and it sounds steadier. “Okay.”

I dip my chin. “Okay, you want me to carry you?”

Her mouth twitches. “Okay, I can climb out.”

“If that’s your wish.” I pretend my knees don’t crack when I push myself up to standing. “Come on.” I hold my hand out.

For a moment, I expect her to push me away, but instead, Hannah places her palm in mine.

I grip her hand firmly while she climbs out of the car, and she takes a second to steady herself before looking up at me.

“Thanks.” Her fingers are shaking.

“Are you really okay? You’re not hurt?”

Hannah starts to shake her head, but I reach up with my free hand and place it on the side of her neck, stopping her movement. “Before you do that, pay attention to your body. Does anything not feel right?”

The skin on her neck is so soft and warm I want to press my face against it.

Listening to me, Hannah slowly moves her neck and shoulders before she shakes her head again. “Nothing hurts at all,” she tells me.

“Promise?”

She rolls her lips together as she nods.

Reluctantly, I lower my hand from her neck.