Page 55 of Seeing Harper

“Been with her all weekend, of course, I do. And there’s nothing at this point to spill.”

“At what point is there something to spill?”

“How about you mind your own damn business and stop looking at my phone.”

Cruz watched Clay, eyes narrowing as he sized him up. “There’s something else going on here.”

“Yeah, your imagination.”

“Come on, Clay. What’s happening here?” he asked, leaning toward Clay and sniffing deeply.

Clay shoved him away. “Cruz, the moment I know what’s happening, you’ll be the second one to know.”

“Why second?”

“Because she’ll know first.”

~~~

“Breakfast will be up in ten!” Travis called out just after knocking on Harper’s door.

“Wonderful,” Harper said sarcastically as she threw her covers off her legs and huffed out an irritated breath.

“I forgot sleeping at your house means a predawn wakeup call from Daddy-Dearest,” a muffled voice said from the other side of the bed.

Harper turned her head toward the other side of the bed and grinned at a completely disheveled Summer, sleep mask half on and half off, her hair tangled in part of it, a piece of her false eyelash stuck to her cheek, lipstick smeared on her chin and a boob sticking out of the side of the tank she’d borrowed to sleep in. A few seconds longer of looking at her and Harper was full out laughing as she reached for her phone. She had just enough time to snap a picture — of the face — not the boob, before Summer snatched the sleep mask off her face to glare at Harper while whining and reaching for her head where a clump of hair had just been yanked out by the mask. “That hurt,” she complained.

Harper was checking her messages, while Summer continued to rub at her head. “What hurt?” she asked distractedly.

“That stupid mask pulled my hair out,” Summer whined again.

“No, you pulled your hair out when you yanked off the mask.”

“Same thing,” Summer said, looking down as she straightened her tank top and covered her boob. “Sorry about the early morning flash. They just don’t stay where I put them. Do you have that problem?”

Harper laughed. “I don’t have boobs, I have bumps. And they don’t fall out of anything. Stop bitching. You could be me.”

“That is true,” Summer agreed.

Harper made a face, then laid her phone aside.

“Who you expecting a message from?” Summer asked suspiciously.

“Nobody.”

“Then why have you been checking your messages all last night — before you passed out anyway, and again this morning before making a face about it.”

“You’re imagining things.”

“Don’t think so,” Summer said.

“Honestly, I’m just expecting a text from Clay. He was going to let me know if he was leaving last night or this morning to get back to school.”

“Since when does he check in with you?” Summer asked.

“He doesn’t check in with me. We just spent a lot of time this weekend together and he said he’d let me know when he was heading back.”

“Ah. Okay. And why would you care?”