When We're Thirty by Casey Dembowski (beautiful books to read .TXT) 📕

tell me that you and this Will character are creating a new last name. Thabbott or Abborne.”

“Not exactly.” Hannah scrunched her nose at the names—they were awful. She’d have to present them to Will later. “But if I’m a millennial, you’re a millennial.”

Riley stood up as quickly as someone with another person living inside them could, her hands on her hips. “You take that back, Thabbott. Take that back right now.”

“Or what?” Hannah smirked as Riley’s countenance cracked. This was her favorite Riley. The Riley when the rest of the office wasn’t around, when she wasn’t worried about budgets and press checks and keeping solid writers without a benefits package.

Riley looked her dead in the eye. Whatever she was about to say was a trump card. “Or I’ll let Henry run his Amityville story as the lead in your section.”

Touché.

Chapter 17Will

Ten days. They’d been married for ten days. And even the last four back in society were excellent. Work pulled them in too many directions, but there’d been breakfast every day. And no matter what time Hannah rolled in, no matter what she smelled like, Will was awake and waiting. Those small moments made his days bearable. Even sans wedding ring, he felt it in his breast pocket, and it was enough. Work had been enjoyable, and Jon less grating—they’d even shared a lunch with Grayson where Jon had spent thirty minutes trying to find out why Will was in such a good mood. Well, in one more day, he would know.

Getting out to the Hamptons on a Friday night was a bitch any time of year, but that didn’t stop their father from requesting an early arrival to maximize Saturday mornings. These were Will’s last hours as a secretly married man. Putting that ring on and never taking it off was going to feel amazing. How did other men feel trapped by their rings?

Will watched the numbers rise as the elevator lurched to the top floor. It had been a trying day, spent buried in contracts and reports. All he wanted to do was fall onto the couch and watch bad TV, not get in the car and drive three hours. At least Hannah would be with him. His wife was his key to keeping his footing at Wellington Thorne and to proving he wasn’t the proverbial screwup his father had cast him as so many years ago.

Will stepped out of the elevator, and voices floated down the hallway from the direction of their apartment. Maybe Mrs. Schumacher had finally come to meet Hannah. She’d mentioned it that morning when they’d passed in the lobby.

But as he got closer, he could see the door to their apartment open and a few boxes of stacked outside. Most likely books or clothes since Hannah hadn’t wanted the movers packing either. That meant their visitor must be Kate.

“You are so Tally Atwater,” Kate said.

Will stepped closer as Hannah made some snarky reply. They stood in the doorway, Kate leaning against the jamb, Hannah standing just inside. They would’ve noticed him if they were paying attention. Kate and Hannah, in their element—it had been too long.

“What?” Kate said, rubbing her arm. “It’s a compliment. You made it. You dreamed the impossible dream.”

Kate and Hannah had to be the only thirty-year-olds to casually reference Up Close and Personal without being prompted. He hadn’t escaped their repeated viewings of it either. He’d immediately caught the reference.

Hannah giggled, her gaze sliding past Kate to Will standing outside the doorway. She straightened, but her expression stayed light and playful. “Hey.”

Kate turned around. “Hubs!”

Will laughed. Only Kate. At least she was on board with it. They were going to need allies, and Kate had always been a good one.

“We were wondering when you were getting home,” Kate said. The statement was so simple, and yet, nostalgia washed over Will. How often they’d said that to him in college, as if him sleeping on their apartment floor for a semester was completely normal.

“Well, here I am,” he said, hugging Kate. He hadn’t seen her since the wedding and was surprised to find that he missed her. He turned his attention to Hannah just in time to see a blush fading from her cheeks. Was it from the “hubs” remark? Or had it been something else entirely? Sometimes he could read the world on Hannah’s face. Other times, those missing five years had created a chasm that he couldn’t cross. He kissed her lightly on the cheek. “We should get those boxes inside before we go.”

“I will. Kate brought them since there’s this dress I thought would be perfect for tomorrow. A good first-impression dress.”

“Definitely a parent pleaser,” Kate added with a nod.

“Plus, she needed to see Binx’s new setup.” Hannah gestured toward the kitchen, where they’d added Binx’s food station.

“Are you sure you want to come all the way up here?” Will asked, calculating the cost and time for Kate to come uptown twice a day to feed the cat. “I’m sure Mrs. Schumacher would feed him.”

“He’s still not used to the apartment,” Hannah said, picking Binx up as he rubbed against her legs. “I don’t want to add another stranger to the mix.” She paused on the word “stranger,” perhaps realizing she’d implied that Will was included on that list. Though in truth, he was. Binx might be far friendlier with him than others, according to what he’d heard, but their relationship still involved hissing. Will was nursing a nasty scratch from when he had tried to relocate Binx from the foot of his bed one evening.

“It’s fine. Really,” Kate said with a shrug. “As long as you don’t mind me borrowing your flat-screen for a few hours?”

“Kate doesn’t have cable,” Hannah added. “And the Jets are playing against Tom Brady on Sunday.”

“Watching Brady get sacked in high-definition would be the highlight of my week.”

“Then consider it yours,” Will said, finally slipping his bag off his shoulder. “Just no parties. As I’m sure Hannah told you,