She laughs breathlessly. "And what's that?"
I pull back just enough to look at her. "I want to take you back to that cabin. I want to peel this shirt off you. And I want to spend the rest of the morning proving that asking you to be my girlfriend was the best decision I may ever have made.”
Her pink lips part. "That's—that's very specific."
"I'm a specific person."
"You're a very dangerous person."
"Only to you."
We're staring at each other, both breathing hard, and I can see her wavering.
Then her phone buzzes from somewhere in her cabin, breaking the spell.
"Saved by the bell," she mutters.
"Unfortunate timing."
She climbs down from the counter, and I immediately miss the heat of her.
"I should get dressed," she says. "We should probably head back. Face reality."
"Reality can wait."
"Victor—"
"Five more minutes. Just—stay here with me for five more minutes."
She looks at me for a long moment, then crosses back to me and wraps her arms around my waist, pressing her face against my chest.
I hold her tight, breathing in the scent of her hair, and try to memorize this moment.
Because somewhere in the back of my mind, a voice is whispering that this is too good to last. That something is going to go wrong.
That the other shoe is going to drop.
But standing here, holding Harper in the morning light of a catamaran galley, I let myself ignore that voice.
"Victor?" Harper's voice is muffled against my chest.
"Yes?"
"Whatever happens with the board, with the acquisition, with everything—we're going to be okay. Right?"
“For both our sakes?” I kiss the top of her head, ignoring the gnawing in my gut. “I hope so."
20
CARRIED AWAY
HARPER
By the time Monday morning rolls around, I'm standing in the StreamEats lobby, trying to make sense of my life.
It’s been three days since Victor punched his brother on a yacht. Three days since I turned my back on Vanessa Chu. Three days since Victor asked me to be his girlfriend on a catamaran under the stars.
We flew back to New York Friday night, and the November cold welcomed us with freezing arms. Thirty-two degrees now and threatening snow, the city looks gray and unforgiving after California sunshine, and while my body temperature attempts to adjust, so does the rest of me.
