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I shake my head. “No,” I say. “What thefuck.”
“I think so,” she whispers. “And now I don’t know what to do. Do we just let her continue to be sick, or do I give her—”
Harper appears in the entryway, and Charlotte turns to her, plastering a smile on her face.
“Good evening, Harper! How are you?”
I can tell she doesn’t feel well, even if she hides it. She graces us with a small smile, and my heart beats rapidly in my chest.
Her beauty is disarming.
The papers in my lap are all but forgotten as she glances my way, her light brown eyes wide with uncertainty.
Fuck. The last time she saw me, I was an asshole, storming out of her bedroom without saying goodnight.
“I’m good, Charlotte. But if I’m interrupting—”
“Not at all,” I interject. “Have you eaten?”
It comes out harsher than I’d like, and Charlotte gives me a pointed look.
Harper lifts her chin, her eyes narrowed. “No. But I’m fine.”
“Absolutely not. You need to eat.”
Charlotteglaresat me, her face incredulous. “Grey,” she hisses under her breath, low enough that Harper doesn’t hear.
But I cantellshe doesn’t feel well. Her light skin is paler than normal, and dark circles of exhaustion surround her eyes.
“I don’tneedto do anything,” Harper says quietly. “Like I said yesterday, I’m very tired of being told what to do.”
The stone in my chest cracks more.
Goddamnit.
I’m an asshole.
So, I try again.
“I’ve heard you’re not feeling the best. A meal will do you good.”
She blinks at me, not convinced.
“And…” I try to find the right words, with Charlotte still staring at me pointedly. “I haven’t eaten, either. I would like it if you joined me.”
Both women raise an eyebrow.
“Please,” I mutter under my breath.
Charlotte breaks out into a grin, while Harper eyes me quizzically behind her.
Dear God, Harper, don’t make me beg.
We’re in a staring contest, but it’s Harper who breaks first.
“Iampretty hungry,” she admits.
Victory.
