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***
Not only did she run, but she called the cops too. Thankfully, I had grown bored of the party by the time the uniformed woman showed up, and all the guests were gone save for Caleb, me, and two others. Mira was a no-show because she wasn’t feeling well.
"It must have been a prank call," I tell her. “People make them all the time."
She looks unconvinced for a moment and then shrugs. "Please keep it down, sir, so we don't have an actual problem and have to come back."
"What was that?" Caleb asks when I close the door and walk back in. "Why did the cops show up?
I wave my hand. "Wrong floor."
"Oh. Okay."
"Could you give me a minute? I need to check on something. I'll be back soon."
With my mouth set in a grim line, I head down the elevator to confront the culprit. She doesn't come to the door until I press the doorbell three times. As soon as the door opens, I open my mouth to unleash the fury of my displeasure, but the words don't make it past my lips.
"What?" Harper asks, thrusting her hands on her hips. "I wasn't going to respond, but I know you're the kind not to get the message that I don't want to see you.”
I would, but right now, the fact that Harper has on a see-through shirt with nothing underneath is holding me tongue-tied. Quite literally. I shouldn't be staring, but I can't help it.
And I'm not sure if I want to when the memory of the night we spent together is still fresh in my mind. I can picture it now—taking off her shirt and staring at her with my throat parched and in need of sustenance.
"What?" She thrusts out her chest as a sign of defiance, and I sigh.
"You know," I drag my eyes to her face and step closer, "it's hard for me to be a gentleman. But I thought I'd give it a go since you obviously wanted nothing to do with me. However, I'm not certain I can keep that streak going."
"What are you talking about?"
With my eyes, I gesture to her chest. It takes a minute for her to see it, and then she slaps her hands over her breasts, gasping in horror.
Her cheeks could be placed side by side with a ripened tomato, and there would be no difference in the shade.
"How dare you!?" Her voice trembles with anger.
I knew the thunder was coming. That's why I said nothing at first.
But it's not my fault that she had no idea it was see-through, I shrug with nonchalance.
"You should wear a see-through shirt when you open the door more often," I say without pity. "Well, at least when I come to the door, because I know how good you look without it."
Her neck turns red, and her attempt to respond turns into parted lips with no sound.
I like watching her falter. The witty Harper Quinn loses her spunk when you compliment her about her body.
"It's a pretty top," I add smiling. "I like the sparkles, especially the two big ones."
Harper glares at me with the fury of an angry woman, crossing her arms over her chest. "Leave."
I shake my head. "I don't want to. You called the cops on a party that wasn't loud enough to be heard in my bathroom, so I came here to keep you company instead."
She makes to throw her hands in the air—offers me a peek—and then promptly crosses her arms again.
"Is that why you're being an asshole? Because I called the cops?"
I smack my lips. "Maybe? Or maybe I want you to acknowledge that our night together wasn't a mistake?"
Harper rolls her eyes.
