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I have no idea.
3
Harper
Am I stupid to hear him out? Of course not, he’s not Cole. I shake the thought of that asshole from my mind, trying my best not to compare the two men when I know they are nothing alike.
I’m currently sitting at my bay window, my cup of coffee slowly diminishing as I stare down to the street and watch people walk to work. Henry knows Josh comes home today, he also knows that he’s coming over straight from the airport and we both agreed that it would probably be best if I just stayed home since I would be no help to him when my brain is only thinking about what’s about to happen.
It doesn’t help that I didn’t get much sleep these last few nights, or the fact that Mel has called me every night asking if he’s been over yet. It doesn’t matter how many times I tell her, she still calls, and I know what she’s doing; she’s checking to make sure I’m okay, and I love her for it. But right now, I just wish he would land, so I can’t stop looking outside and feeling as if my breakfast is going to come right back up the way it went down. My eyes glance down at the now empty cup of coffee and just as I’m about to get up to pour myself another cup, something catches my eye outside and when I look down toward the sidewalk, my entire body freezes.
Josh is standing there, hands in his pockets and head tilted back as his eyes stare directly at me. My cheeks heat, my palms begin to sweat, and as I take a deep, shuddering breath, I look away. I don’t know what I was expecting, but feeling this nervous is throwing me off guard. I close my eyes, trying to figure out what he’s going to say. The pit in my stomach returns as the images of him and Angela enter my head. No matter what they did—or didn’t do—it doesn’t change the fact that Angela had her lips fused to Josh’s and no matter how many times I try to replay his words from our phone call a few days ago, those images still haunt me.
I start to pace the kitchen as I set my mug in the sink and wonder what’s taking him so long to get up here. My brain is also trying to figure out what the hell I’m going to say. Do I just come out and ask if they ever slept together? I shake that thought from my head and try to think calmly and rationally.
A knock sounds at the door as all rational thought leaves my brain. My hand reaches for the doorknob as I freeze, knowing exactly what’s waiting for me on the other side and what this moment might mean.
“Open the door, Harper, please.”
I expected to hear that demanding tone I always crave, but instead it’s pleading, almost desperate. And when I open the door and see Josh standing there, looking just as awful as I feel, his eyes find mine and radiate the sadness I’ve been feeling for the last few days. His shoulders are heavy and his hands move to touch mine, but I shift out of his reach.
“Can I come in?”
I shrug, opening the door and walking away, letting him decide.
He takes that to mean he should follow and shuts the door behind him when he enters. I go into the kitchen, grabbing my mug and pouring another cup of coffee since I can’t stand there and watch him. I can’t.
“Have you slept with her?” That question is the one that has been pounding through my brain for the past few days and I cringe at the fact that it flew out right when he shut the door. Josh watches as I take my coffee and head into the living room and sit on my couch.
“No, I haven’t slept with her.” Our eyes meet, and I stare into his, trying to find a shred of deceit, but find none.
“The way she was hanging off you, I—”
He holds up his hand, stopping me mid-sentence and thank God because I really didn’t want to finish that thought. He starts shaking his head as he sits down, taking one of my hands in his. The warmth of his touch sends familiar shivers up my spine as I curse at how good his touch feels.
“I know what she tried to imply, but she’s just trying to get under your skin. You know that. It’s the kind of girl she is.”
I know he’s right on some level. His eyes plead with mine to understand and I really do want to believe him.
“I know the pictures from the basketball game and then what happened at the bar don’t paint the best picture of me.”
I arch an eyebrow in agreement and when I stay silent, refusing to help him in any way, he continues. “And I promise that every one of those meetings was initiated by her.”
This is what I wanted, right? The truth? No matter how much I want to throw something against a wall, I know he’s telling the truth and how can I fault him for that?
“I want to believe you.” The words are out before I can stop them, and from the hopeful look on his face, my insides start to crumble. He edges closer and I still, his eyes widening.
“But you don’t,” he mutters as I take a deep breath and try and figure out how to explain the feelings rolling around inside my head.
“It’s not that I don’t, it’s that I can’t let myself.”
His eyes narrow, clearly now understanding, so I sit crossed-legged on the couch and face him.
“When I started dating Cole, everything was perfect, I thought everything was perfect.”
Josh’s eyes soften.
“Then I find out that he’s been going behind my back for most of our relationship, getting it from every girl that will open her legs wide enough.”
