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Ronan: Finn, I swear to God. I’m going to murder you. Send the elevator back down.
Mac: We deserve to see a naked Harper, too.
Mac: Finn???
Ronan: FINN DONOVAN!!!!
I roar a laugh before silencing my phone and throwing it down on the nearest lounge chair. I know they’re going to be pissed, but they’ll get over it. I’ll deal with them later.
Turning the jets to the hot tub on, I watch as Harper makes her way toward the steamy water. Her eyes meet mine over her shoulder as she reaches down and slides her panties down her legs. I wait with bated breath as she grabs the hem of her t-shirt and pulls it over her head.
Scrubbing my hand down my face, I just stand there for a moment, admiring her beautiful body and all that she is. Because, right now, I don’t see the bruises or the cuts. I don’t see the way her curves aren’t filled out like they used to be from being starved for two weeks. I only see this incredibly strong woman, a woman who was brave enough to escape her own personal hell to make it back to us—a woman who is strong enough to handle all three of us and the life that we lead.
All I see is a woman that loves me.
Harper Hayes loves me.
Harper climbs into the water and sinks down just so the swell of her breasts is above the water, her hair floating around her. Meanwhile, I’m still fucking frozen. She cocks her head to the side and smiles.“You coming?”
“Oh, I think I just did, Angel.”
She roars out a laugh, and it’s music to my ears. Following her lead, I quickly remove all my clothes and climb in with her. I make sure to sit on the stone bench that wraps around the inside of the hot tub as far from her as possible. She’s naked and wet and looks so fucking pretty underneath these lights, and I only have so much willpower. She takes a step to move towards me, and I raise my hand from the water, pointing a finger at her. “You stay all the way over there, Angel.”
She gives me a knowing grin, “Yes, Da—”
“Don’t, Harper. Just, don’t.” I swear on all that is holy, if she says that word one more time tonight, it will be my breaking point.
She laughs at me again before settling back in her spot. I watch in rapt attention as she leans her head back onto the ledge and stares at the stars. Her toes brush against the inside of my calf every so often, sending waves of pleasure through my body with every touch. But I don’t move. I sit there and stare at her as her muscles relax further and further into the steaming water. We spend an hour sitting under the New York night sky, just like that.
And every second that passes, I fall deeper and deeper.
21
Harper
It’s been seven whole days of sitting inside the walls of this apartment, and I can’t do it anymore.
As excited and grateful as I was that the guys wanted to spend all this uninterrupted time with me, resting, recovering, and relaxing, I just can’t do it. I started to feel much better a couple of days ago. The constant achiness is gone for the most part, minus the pain in my ribs, the swelling in my ankle has all but disappeared, the couple stitches on my foot fell out this morning, and with any luck, the ones on the back of my head should any day now, and I’m starting to feel like I have all of my energy back.
While the physical recovery has been relatively easy, the mental recovery may be a little trickier than I thought. The guys told me they were genuinely shocked at how well I was handling the trauma I was going through and were worried that I might be repressing my feelings. Turns out they were right.
I’ve had appointments with Doc’s wife, Lisa, the past few days. While I went into the first one on my high horse, thinking it would be a total waste of time, I was quickly knocked down a peg. The moment I wasn’t around Ronan, Mac, or Finn and stopped feeling like I had to be strong for them, even though I don’t, nor are they asking me to be, it was like a damn broke open and I couldn’t get it to stop.
My first session with her was utterly exhausting, and I was physically and mentally drained for most of the day afterward. While the next few days weren’t much better, this morning’s felt bearable. I only shed a few tears and was able to make it through the entire session without feeling like the walls were closing in on me. Lisa informed me that we would move our sessions to once a week as long as I felt comfortable. She also prescribed me some anxiety medication, which I was briefly hesitant about taking. But then she said, “Harper, that wound on the back of your head needed stitches, right? Without those stitches, the wound would never have healed. That’s what this medication is for. It’s meant to help you heal.”
It’s safe to say that struck a chord with me.
Hopefully, down the road, I won’t need the medication anymore, but for now, I’m willing to accept all of the help I can get.
Once I started feeling better, I convinced the guys to crawl out of the hole that was my bedroom and move the party into the den, where episodes of my favorite vampire brothers have been playing on repeat.
I know the three of them hate it, and quite frankly, I’d be more than willing to change it. But seeing as they are willfully catering to my every need, I might as well watch it while I can get away with it.
I’m not stupid, after all.
However, as much as I love the Mystic Falls crew, I can feel myself starting to go certifiable. If I have to hear Ronan spin the ice in his tumbler, Finn scratch at his beard, or sit and watch Mac make one more meal, I might honestly kill us all—regardless of how much I love them.
I know they’re feeling it, too. Ronan has been dying to hide in his office for a few hours and catch up on emails. Finn has asked about Kings several times in the last few days, and Mac is just downright antsy.
