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“I see.” I sighed. “I had something similar, but … it was a coach at the school.”
“Oooh,” they all said.
As I recapped what happened, all four of them listened intently, varying sounds of frustration and encouragement when they heard what Sage was trying to accomplish.
“So what’s your worry?” Greer asked when I was done.
“That I crossed a major line. I’m not her stepdad. Harlow’s not my girlfriend. She’s … my friend.”
Greer hummed. “I think you’re okay. It wasn’t malicious, and you did what anyone would’ve done in the moment. But you should tell her about it before Sage does. It might look worse if she hears about it from the coach or the school. Especially if the coach is pissed that you stepped in.”
I snorted. “He’s not going to be pissed. The dude got what he wanted because I roped in four professional football players for their indoor flag football practice next week.”
Adaline smiled. “I could see if Emmett can come with a couple of Wolves players too.”
“I appreciate it, but I think the guys coming with Parker is enough.” I nodded at Greer. “Pretty sure your husband is one of them.”
She grinned. “Naturally. He knows better than to say no to something that could help someone in our family.”
I cocked an eyebrow. “Is Sage part of our family now?”
“Isn’t she?” my sister asked lightly. “You and Harlow were always attached at the hip. And now look at what you’re doing. No one in this family is capable of sitting idle when someone we love needs help. That makes her, and her daughter, part of the group.”
My cheeks felt hot. “I’m not in love with her.”
Greer’s eyes sharpened knowingly. “I didn’t say you were. Interesting if that’s what you heard, though,” she mused.
“Knock it off, Greer. Don’t you dare play matchmaker on this one. It’s Harlow.”
Adaline and Poppy watched our exchange with interest, and Mom was conspicuously not watching our exchange with interest—instead, she was staring down at the counter at her folded hands, her thumb moving her wedding ring back and forth.
“Indeed it is,” she said smoothly. “Your best friend, the only person you ever really talked to or trusted because you sure didn’t talk to any of us. You know who you went to for advice growing up? Her. I’m not trying to play matchmaker, Ian, but the fact that she’s here now, and it’s as easy as breathing for you to play roommate and best friend and be the protective guy with her daughter, I wouldn’t have to work very hard to build up her role in your life. She is your person, and she always has been.”
I wanted to argue, but I couldn’t. When my dad married Sheila, I felt slightly outside in our own family. I went from being the oldest of three to the second in a long line of kids who all needed something. They found it in each other. I already had what I needed in Harlow, and it created firm lines and roles in our family that had never really changed. Even now, we still had parts to play in how our new reality unfurled in the wake of losing Dad. And mine seemed, like always, to be tied to Harlow.
Slowly, I stood, because the change of direction in this conversation had my head feeling a little off-kilter, my thoughts fuzzy and disoriented. It’s not what I came for, and the need to defend myself, defend my friendship with Harlow, wouldn’t help anything. Knowing them, it would only make it worse.
“Thanks for your advice,” I told them. “I’ll try to talk to her before Sage gets home.”
Mom was watching me with worry clear on her face. Greer held my gaze, daring me to challenge what she’d said. Adaline and Poppy traded a look that I didn’t really want to decipher.
I gave them each a hug, then ruffled Olive’s hair as I passed.
When I got back into the truck, I thought about swinging by my house to talk to her, but I didn’t want to interrupt on the off chance she was writing.
Even after so long without her, was Harlow still my person?
As I sat in the silence, I thought about what that meant and how I might have defined it if someone asked. It was the one person you could be yourself with and drop any pretense or filter. It was the one person you could be vulnerable with and not worry about what they might see when you were. It was trust and intimacy in knowing the other person’s thoughts without sharing a single word.
In that way, yes, Harlow was my person. The years of my life when she wasn’t in it, I’d never filled her spot.
But, to me, your one person was also the one you wanted to create a family with. The one you kissed because you couldn’t not kiss them. That you shared dark nights and dirty words with. I’d never found that either. In London, I’d only tried a couple of times, and each attempt left me feeling just a little emptier, and even more sure that I’d never marry.
Had I ever imagined Harlow as that one person?
As I drove away, I caught my own gaze in the rearview mirror, refusing to answer that question, even in the privacy of my own mind.
Chapter 14
