“Well, I’m named after the author, Harper Lee, so I don’t really know how much nerd quality that gives me.”
“Yeah?” He leans back on both hands as he lifts his face to the sun, squinting slightly in the light. Somehow, he manages to look even more handsome while he’s got his face all scrunched up. “I was kinda hoping you were.”
“Why’s that?”
He sits forward again and meets my eyes, his pupils dilating. “Because it would feel a whole lot more like kismet that way.”
“What would?” I feel like I know, but I really need to hear him say it.
“You. Me. The way that I can’t stop thinking about you.”
There’s no smile on his face now. Just a seriousness, an openness, and vulnerability that has my heart thundering like a jackhammer inside my chest. This is quite literally the first time a man has been interested in me in the same way I’ve been interested in him. Sure, I’ve had the odd guy try one on with me, but I was never attracted to them in return. In fact, I’ve never found a man who makes my body sing just by being near, not in any way close to what I feel when I’m near Austin. And this all comes about just as I had made a decision to give up on ever finding a man. It kind of feels like a cruel twist of fate.
“Do you realize how old I am?” I ask, feeling like this really needs to be laid out bare in front of us.
“Older than me. Younger than my actual aunt.”
A shadow of a smile plays on the corner of my lips. “I’m thirty-seven, Austin.”
“OK.” He frowns, his expression telling me that he isn’t even slightly perturbed by that revelation. “I’m twenty-five.”
“Twenty-five?” I blurt, the fact that he’s even younger than I thought hitting me pretty hard between the eyes. When I got my first period, he was barely even born. “I’m twelve years your senior.”
“I’m aware. I can count.”
“Yes. But...doesn’t that bother you?”
He shrugs. “Why should it?”
“Because….because...it’stwelve years.”
“So? My father is fifteen years older than my mother.”
“That’s different,” I counter, pushing up to my feet and walking over to the fence, my hands resting on the top of a wooden post as I try to wrap my head around what is happening right now.
“How?” He moves so he’s standing right beside me. “Because he’s a man and she’s a woman? So what? Last I checked, we weren’t living in 1933, Harper. People get to be with whoever they wanna be with in these zany modern times.”
“Don’t patronize me. People in town already treat me like I’m a stain on the earth. Imagine how they’re going to react if they see me with you?”
Taking a calming breath, he reaches out and takes the braid that hangs over my shoulder between his fingers. “Imagine how little I’m going to care about what they think,” he says, running his thumb down the length of it until he hits the elastic band and works it free, unraveling my hair with painful precision, one braided twist at a time.
I feel like I should pull away. I feel like I should ask him to stop. But there’s something beautifully erotic about the intensity in his eyes and the slow movement of his hands as he loosens the mane of auburn hair I go to great lengths to keep hidden.
My breath feels caught in my chest as his fingers comb out my waves before the breeze catches and my hair flies up and out to the side of my head. I’m so exposed. But as his eyes follow the movement and he looks at me like I’m this wondrous sight, I can’t help but feel…beautiful.
“It’s like fire and spun gold,” he whispers, his words bringing tears to my eyes.
“You think?”
He nods as he steps close again and runs his fingers back through its length. “I’ve never seenanythingso beautiful in all my days. And I watch the sun come up every mornin’.”
“Austin,” I whisper, feeling so incredibly vulnerable, that when his hand moves to cup the back of my head and he lowers his lips to mine, I give myself over completely to the moment, delighting in the smooth heat of his tongue and the hungry pressure of his mouth. He tastes like coffee, and he smells like sunshine and hard work. It’s intoxicating and exhilarating because I’ve never been kissed like this. I’ve never felt emotions like this. After thirty-seven years of being alone, all of a sudden there’s a big, beautiful man who wants me.Me.It’s amazing, and it’s thrilling, but at the same time, there’s this voice inside me that’s screaming at me tostop.He’s too young. This can’t work.
Summoning up all the strength I have inside me, I place my hands on his powerful chest and push, tearing my mouth from his as I gasp for some mind-clearing air.
“I think I should go,” I say, my fingers going to my lips as I back away from him.
“Harper,” he says beseechingly. “Don’t.”
“You and I… this just… I can’t, Austin. I’m sorry.”
And with that, I do the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do—I walk away, knowing deep down inside that it’s the right thing to do. Even if it doesn’t feel that way.
