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CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Sawyer
As I jog to the coffee shop, I run through everything Harlow said, and everything I said in return. I can’t believe how dense I was. I was so worried about making her uncomfortable and being there for her that I didn’t even think she could have meant something other than what I was hearing.
Stopping outside the coffee shop door, I see her through the glass, smiling at the customers as she hands them their drinks. My god, she’s stunning. Even seeing her every day doesn’t dull that to me. Harlow is the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. And she has romantic feelings for me?
This is it. This is the moment. Am I really going to risk our whole friendship for the chance to kiss her? What if Ezra got it wrong? I know now in my gut that I’ve been blind this whole time. I’m also really fucking terrified. This isHarlow. What if I’m not good enough for her? But I can be. I will be. For Harlow, I would do anything. It’ll be worth it to call her mine.
Pushing inside, I walk up to the counter, smiling at Celeste as I ignore the register and stand behind the last guy waiting for his drink. She sees me as she turns, hands him his drink, and I step up as he leaves.
“Hey, what are you having?” she asks with a smile, but I’m not here for a drink.
“What did you mean,” I ask, “when you said you always thought you’d be mine?” She opens her mouth, but nothing comes out. Her eyes flick around, seeing who can hear us.
“I’ve got this if you need a minute,” Celeste whispers. There’s no one waiting to be served anyway.
“Thanks, Celeste,” Harlow says with an appreciative smile as she lifts the counter and I follow her through to the back.
“What did you mean?” I ask again when we’re alone.
“It sounds like you know.”
“Maybe I need you to spell it out for me.” She doesn’t though, and honestly, I don’t blame her. She’s already tried once, and I effectively shut it down in my misguided attempt to read her mind and do what was best for her. Her eyes are full of vulnerability as she waits me out, and it makes my decision for me. “Okay. I’m not going to gently tip us over this edge, it’s gonna take a shove.”
I step closer and cup her jaw softly in my hand. Still, her eyes don’t leave mine. “I love you, Harlow. I’m pretty sure I’ve loved you since I was eight years old, from the first time I saw you in that garden, and there’s not been one day since where I haven’t felt it. I love you as a person, as a friend, but fuck—I’min lovewith you, Angel. I would’ve tried to hide it forever if I thought it was best for you, but I don’t think it is now.” She still hasn’t replied, and her mouth parts as her eyes flick through a myriad of emotions. “Is it?” I ask. It feels like an eternity before she replies, but in the end, she says all I need to hear.
“No.”
I crash my mouth down to hers as if the chance will be taken from me if I’m not quick enough. I don’t care that I’ve just poured my heart out and she gave me one syllable, that one syllable has made my year. I cradle her face in my hands and I kiss her with everything I have, everything I’ve felt for all this time, and it feels like coming home. Something expands in my chest that is all Harlow. I’m high on her taste, and as she clings to my wrists and kisses me right back, I kiss her until I forget where we are. Eventually, I break away for air, and we’re both breathing heavily, her soft puffs of warm breath panted against my lips. Curving my hand around the back of her neck, I lightly stroke the skin that’s still textured with the healing ink.
“I can’t believe you got this for me. Even when—”
“You’re still the best person I know,” she says, interrupting me. “You always will be. Whether you want me or not.”
“I want you. Fuck, I want you. I’m so sorry,” I say forcefully, hoping she can see the conviction in my eyes, feel it in my touch.
“You don’t need to apologize,” she says.
“I wish I was brave sooner.” I lean down to rest my forehead against hers.
“It’s not about bravery. You were looking out for me, like you always are.” She says it with such conviction, and I’m glad she knows intrinsically how much she means to me. I’ll happily spend my life cementing that knowledge in her head. I stroke the raised skin again because it’s always been my favorite place.
“You got a tattoo for me. I think I need to return the favor.”
“I know a great tattoo artist,” she smirks, and then her face breaks into the biggest grin I’ve ever seen on her. It’s beautiful.
“Delayed reaction there,” I laugh.
“Took me a minute,” she agrees, pushing up onto her tiptoes to kiss me again, pressing her body into mine, and the feel of her is incredible. Indescribable. I’ve hugged her a million times and fallen asleep wrapped around her, but having Harlow kiss me, intentionally rub against me, is a whole new ballgame. I take a step forward and she steps back as I push her against the wall and our kiss turns ravenous. Unfortunately, the sound of the door chime brings me back to my senses. She is still at work.
“I should go,” I say against her lips, right before I take them again.
“Mhmm,” she murmurs into my mouth, making no effort to stop either. Finally, I pull myself away before I can’t anymore.
“Okay, I’m going,” I say decisively. “The first time I fuck you isnotgoing to be in a coffee shop kitchen and with an audience. Not an audience of strangers, anyway,” I add, and she lets out a small, shocked gasp and a laugh. I drop a quick chaste kiss to her lips before heading for the door. “I’ll meet you out the front when your shift is finished.”
***
