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She knew her best friend would ask that question. She would’ve done the same if the tables were turned. The problem?
Harper really didn’t have an answer. Not a good one, at least. What could she say? That she wanted burning passion—which probably wasn’t real, just something out of a romance novel, but she wanted to try for it anyway? Yeah, Wren would look at her like she was crazy.
Maybe she was. It didn’t really matter. She couldn’t string Roger along any further. He was a good guy looking for a woman to spend the rest of his life with. He deserved to be with a woman who really wanted him and loved him for who he was. Not a woman who’d settled because she thought that’s what she should do.
“He deserved better,” Harper finally said, her voice soft. She didn’t want too many people to overhear her. Word of their relationship’s demise would be out by the end of the day anyway. Living in a small town, anything that happened was duly reported and spread around like crazy. The story of Harper and Roger splitting would be a big one. Everyone had assumed they’d eventually get married, including, at one point, Harper.
Wren blinked at her. “He deserved better?” She leaned across the table, her voice lowering to a soft whisper. “What about you? You deserve better too, you know. I always thought . . . ” Her voice drifted and she clamped her lips shut.
“What?” Harper prodded. “Just spit it out. You know you want to.”
“Roger is sweet as pie, but he’s so boring.” Wren practically spit the last word out. “Seriously, Harper. This might be the best thing you could’ve ever done for yourself. Now you’re free.”
She wanted to believe what Wren said was true. That this was a good move. A smart move. But what if it wasn’t? She’d never really felt trapped with Roger. What they shared had been nice. Pleasant. Maybe that was all she could ever hope for. What if she never found a man as good as Roger? What then?
Panic had hit her hard last night in her grandmother’s too small and rather lumpy guest bed. What was she supposed to do now? Where could she go? She refused to move back home. Her parents—specifically her mother—loved to run her life and the minute she stepped back into her childhood home, it would feel like she was giving her mother the reins to take over once more. Or worse, that she’d somehow failed at being an adult and had to move back home at the age of twenty-six.
No thank you.
“You really think this was a good move for me?” Harper asked tentatively. She glanced around the coffee shop, thankful she saw no one she knew. It was mostly filled with tourists and she was glad.
Like, really glad. She didn’t think she was ready to face all the questions, the sympathetic looks, the reassurances that everything would be okay. And yeah, she knew everything would eventually be okay.
Well. She hoped so.
“Of course.” Wren smiled. “And now we’re both single together! This is a rare occurrence. We should go out tonight and celebrate.”
“Celebrate?” Harper shook her head. “Shouldn’t I be in mourning or something? Roger and I were together for over a year. We lived together, Wren. And you want me to go out with you tonight so we can party and get drunk?” That wouldn’t look good, would it? Out on a Saturday night with her best friend and without a care in the world? While Roger stayed at home and cried over the loss of his fickle girlfriend?
Okay, he probably wouldn’t be crying. He’d actually taken the news like a champ and said that he’d felt the same way, which came as a surprise to her. He knew she’d felt restless lately and he was worried that he wouldn’t be enough for her. That had made her feel bad.
Until he said that she wasn’t enough for him either.
Wren waved a hand. “You worry too much over what people think about you. You always have.”
“And you don’t worry enough.” This was why they made such a good team. They balanced each other out.
“Fine, let’s go out tonight and you can cry into your glass of white wine while you slowly get drunk. Same diff.” Wren smiled, looking like she’d just solved world peace. “You need to let loose, Harper. Roger kept you all stifled up in that little house of his and you never wanted to go out anymore. I’ve finally got you back.” Wren made a face. “I sound incredibly selfish, don’t I?”
“Sort of.” Harper reached out and grabbed her hand, clasping it between both of hers. “But I don’t mind. You’re right. I was so busy trying to make sure what Roger and I had was working that I probably neglected our friendship.” She’d neglected everything, including her own needs. And she did have needs, damn it. “I’m sorry.”
“You don’t need to apologize, it’s okay. Really. I understand. Men make us do crazy things.” Wren smiled and withdrew her hand from Harper’s. “Speaking of men, I know some of my brothers are going out tonight. We should go with them.”
Just like that, nerves jumped in Harper’s stomach. “Which brothers?” Please say Holden and Lane. Please, please say Holden and Lane.
“Holden and West.” Wren wrinkled her nose. “That jerk invited them over for dinner last night but didn’t include me. Can you believe it?”
“Which jerk?” Harper knew which one. She just . . . what? Wanted to hear his name said out loud again? Wanted to talk about him in the sneakiest way possible?
She was pitiful. If Wren knew she was hot for West she’d probably . . .
Harper didn’t know what Wren would do. She’d tried her hardest to keep her brothers away from her friends, which had been impossible. Boys surrounded Wren in her house. When they were younger, all of Wren’s friends had wanted to go over there after school and on the weekends for a chance to hang out with the Gallagher boys, including Harper. Though she never admitted it. Wren really was her friend.
She just happened to have a minor crush on her best friend’s big brother.
“West. He’s such an ass. Why wouldn’t he invite me? Is it because I don’t have a penis?” Wren’s head jerked toward the entrance, her eyes narrowing. “Uh-oh, look who just walked in.”
Harper ducked her head, glancing as slyly as she could toward the door, fully expecting to see West striding inside. But it wasn’t him.
