AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“So do I.”
“But we can’t,” she goes on.
“No. It’s too much too soon after…”
“After Eva’s death.” There’s a strange note in Harper’s voice, almost like an accusation when she says Eva’s name. “It’s all such a tangled mess, isn’t it?”
“Yeah.”
“I remember when I was a kid, and I broke my wrist. Being in your office, and you were so tall and huge and… and you made me feel so safe, Bryson. You cast me up so gently. I remember thinking I might break my other wrist just so I could go through the whole thing again.”
“What are you saying?” My voice is tight now. “You were a kid, Harper. I barely remember that. You were just another patient.”
She doesn’t say anything for a long time, then sighs down the phone. “You barely remember it.”
“Like I said, you were a kid. What do you want me to say? It was a special moment for me, too? If I was the sort of man to say a thing like that, I’d throw myself off a goddamn bridge.”
“I know you’re not that sort of man,” she snaps. “I’m just saying… it was special to me. And tonight, at the pizza place, before we were interrupted… that was special, too. This whole crazy adventure has been special. But I get it. It has to end.”
“It’s the right…”
She hangs up, leaving me to stare out the window at the backyard, the moonlight glistening off the icy grass.
I don’t get it. Why would she share that with me? I was kind to her when she was a kid, okay. What does that have to do with us, here, now?
CHAPTERFIFTEEN
Harper
I move through life, barely conscious, wishing something would jolt me out of this new, ugly mood.
Even as I yell at myself that I’m being melodramatic, I can’t break it.
It’s not as though Bryson and I had anything real to begin with, not as though we shared more than some kisses and steamy moments.
He told me about his past, andthatmeant something.
Then I made a jerk out of myself on the phone, coming so close to revealing my crush as if it would make a difference. It’s been a week since that phone call.
I go to the restaurant and imagine I’m somebody else as I wait tables, forcing myself to smile and be as approachable as possible. At home, I try my hardest to work on the podcast, but it’s difficult to summon the enthusiasm.
Tonight, I’m sitting on the couch, mindlessly scrolling through Netflix on the TV, struggling to find something to watch, something to distract me from the endless whirling thoughts of Bryson.
I dissect every moment we shared, from his hand on my leg to our first kiss in Adam’s kitchen to Bryson guiding us through the night like the world was ours and ours alone.
When Tiffany returns from work, she takes one look at me and throws her hands up.
“What?” I ask.
“I’m taking you out.”
“Out where?”
“There’s this club I know. They’ll let us in.”
I sit up, already shaking my head. Tiffany’s been going to clubs since she was seventeen, using her prom-queen-like beauty and guile to fool the doormen into letting her in.
I’ve never been the clubbing type and never understood the appeal.
