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“It’s fine. None of my business.”
“Nico, you’re a man,” Harlow starts.
“Glad you noticed.” I smirk at her and she averts her gaze, looking over at Fleur again. “Get a man’s opinion,” she urges her as Fleur sighs.
“Do you mind?” Fleur asks me.
“Nope, fire away.”
“It’s Lee. He’s absolutely great. So lovely and attentive, can’t do enough for me. But every so often he’ll cancel super last-minute or get a phone call he absolutely has to take no matter what we’re doing, but he never explains it. Then I feel overbearing trying to get answers, like I’m bugging him, but he never offers any reason and he’ll go back to being great again like nothing happened. Does he not like me that much? Am I being paranoid?”
“He probably does genuinely like you,” I offer as Harlow raises her brows in atold you soway, and Fleur relaxes with relief. “At least as much as he likes his other girlfriend.” Oops.
Harlow’s head whips round to glare at me.
“Nico!”
“Sorry, but you asked. Sounds like cheating to me.” Her eyes narrow even further.
“There might be another explanation,” she says.
“But it won’t be any better. What could be a good explanation for that?” Neither of them gets a chance to think of one because the bell goes behind me, and Clara lays her hand on my arm.
“Hey, are you ready to go?”
“I’m going to get ready to reopen,” Harlow says quietly to Fleur, and then she’s gone. I want to chase after her and tell her it’s not what it looks like—it’s not a morning date after the night before or anything like that—that Clara’s my sister. But what’s the point of that? It doesn’t change anything between me and Harlow. Maybe it’s better that she thinks I’m taken, leaves less pressure on my ever-dwindling self-control.
“Yep.” Fleur has turned to fiddle with the coffee machine, and I feel like I’ve been well and truly dismissed. “See you later, Fleur.”
My sister blows out a breath as we pull away from the curb. “Wow. She was gorgeous. Remind me to knock three points off my self-esteem before the day is over.” I know she’s talking about Harlow. Not that Fleur is unattractive, but Harlow is something else.
“Oh, please. You’re gorgeous too.” She gives me a look like she doesn’t believe me, but I don’t push it. Harlow is another level, and Clara’s my sister.
“At least tell me she’s super shallow and annoying?”
“Not in the slightest,” I say with a mix of awe and want in my voice, which of course my sister picks up on.
“Ew. Are you sleeping with her?”
“No!”
“But you like her?”
“Yes,” I admit, but only because it’s Clara asking. She huffs in her seat.
“This is like pulling teeth. What’s the problem? Is this part of one of your great big thought-out plans?”
“It’s not a plan, not this time. I’m not dragging her into my life.”
“Barista Barbie can’t hack the dark side?”
“She doesn’t like that.” I can see her questioning look in my peripheral vision. “Barbie.She doesn’t like being called that.”
“Of course she doesn’t. If you like her, she must be pretty impressive.”
“That she most definitely is.”
“Not impressive enough to give a shot?” That’s not the issue here at all. I’ve no question that Harlow could survive anything thrown at her. But why would I want to throw it?
