My phone buzzes and I exhale, pull it out of my pocket.
MOM: You need to call me. Immediately. Your father is being impossible.
Christ, if that’s not the universe reminding me exactly why I can’t do this shit…
“Harp,” I say, pushing my half-eaten plate away from me. “I should?—”
“The onesie is super cute. I should have told you earlier. Thank you.”
“You did thank me.” I set my phone down. “And I know it’s dorky, but I wanted him to have Grizzlies merch for his first item of clothing.”
“His?” she asks archly. “Why do you think it’s a boy?”
“Why do you think it’s a girl?”
“Because girls are better than boys.” She pushes to her feet and reloads her plate. “Obviously.”
I chuckle, and even though I should get up and go, I don’t.
I stay on the stool and watch her like a greedy little goblin, soaking up every moment and committing it to memory—the way her hair shines like silk under the lights of the kitchen, her soft hum as she serves herself a heaping scoop of rice, the way she catches me watching her and doesn’t scowl.
Instead, she smiles, says softly, “And I don’t think the onesie was dorky.” Mischief in her golden-green eyes. “Egotistical? Maybe.” She shrugs. “Okay, there’s no maybe about it. It’s definitely egotistical.”
“How do you figure that?”
“It’s not like you put Smitty’s number on the back,” she points out.
She’s not wrong.
But I don’t admit it. “Maybe I don’t like his number.”
“Because you prefer number ninety?” she asks archly.
“Yeah, sure.”
Her brows lift. “Perhaps because you wear number ninety, Mr. Ego?”
Laughter bubbles up in my chest. “That I’ll neither confirm nor deny.”
She snorts then shakes her head, making a pit stop at the fridge and getting me another beer.
I should go.
But instead, I pull my plate closer, open the beer.
And promise myself…just a little while longer.
Twenty-One
Harper
“Thanks for bringing me dinner,” I say softly, still a little disconcerted, still at a loss as to why he’s here at all.
Maybe it’s as simple as that commitment to be friends.
Maybe it’s more, something scary, something that can’t be, something that won’t ever be what I dreamed of.
Because it’s been…
