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It’s Bryson. I want to see you. I’m not happy with how I left things.
I click send, then lie on my back, closing my eyes and trying to summon sleep. I know it’s the worst way actually to fall asleep, this pursuit of it, but relaxation is a joke at this point.
If I let my mind wander, it dances off to visions of the future. Harper holding our first child, or beneath the altar, smiling up at me… or riding me, her virginal nerves swept aside, her breasts bouncing as she glides up and down on my cock.
Ah.
I push my face into the pillow, knowing I won’t be able to sleep tonight.
My phone buzzes. An email.
When?Harper has replied.
How about now?
It’s almost midnight. I expect her to say no.
She replies almost instantly.Okay. Pick me up?
Deal. I’ll shoot an email when I’m outside.
I stand quietly, feeling like a thief, as though I’ve broken into the house and am now sneaking out of it. Adam’s door is closed, the house quiet, every creaking noise seeming extra loud as I move down the stairs.
Once outside, I stride across the street to my car.
Despite the cold, I’m wearing shorts and a T-shirt, hoping the bracing winter air will jolt some sense into me. It doesn’t.
As I drive across the city, I wonder what I will say to her, what I possiblycouldsay that would make any of this acceptable. It’s not as though I can unload everything I want and need.
Or maybe thatisthe right thing to do since it would surely scare her and make her never want to see me again. If I told her how badly I’m thinking of a shared future, I can’t imagine a scenario in which she doesn’t call me crazy and tell me to stay away.
That’s the noble thing.
I think of Eva as I get closer to Harper’s apartment. Eva would have had a unique perspective on this, as she did on most things. I know she’d do her best to understand how I’m feeling, despite how obviously awkward it would be for her… despite the clear conflict of interest.
Eva would have some kind words, which would make me feel like less of a monster, but that’s not what I deserve.
Driving down Harper’s street, I tell myself to turn back. It’s not too late. Just because I’ve tasted my woman’s sweet lips and previewed her perfect body doesn’t mean I can’t stop. I could leave for the West Coast tonight. I could make an excuse, tell Adam I’m sorry, and disappear forever.
Stopping the car, I take out my phone, shooting off an email.
I’m here.
She replies almost instantly. A smirk touches my lips as I think about her refreshing the page, as eager as I am. This would all be perfect if it weren’t for the Adam-shaped hole in our unspoken plans.
Ormyunspoken plans, since she’s got no clue what I’m dreaming about.
Harper walks under the streetlights, wearing a gray hoodie with the sleeves pulled down around her hands, her hair down, wavy, alluring. She’s wearing jeans again, but they look different from the ones earlier, making me think of how wet her jeans must’ve gotten.
No, not that. This isn’t about lust.
This is about… I don’t even know. Seeing her, being close to her, the magnetic pull I can’t seem to fight.
I walk to the passenger side of the car, holding the door open.
She smiles nervously at me. “Thanks.”
CHAPTERELEVEN
