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I might have surprised her, but she instinctively wraps her arms and legs around me as I press my face to her neck, breathing her in. Of their own free will, my hands roam her back and stroke her hair as I feel my anger for her dissipate, replaced with want.Need.She squeezes me tighter, and her scent intoxicates me.
My hands run along her thighs and around her waist as I press her to the wall. I can hear her soft pants against my ear, and I’ve never wanted to taste anything as badly in my life. Instead, I exercise the most self-control I’ve ever had, knowing this is the last second I’ll be able to. Unwrapping her legs and letting her feet drop to the ground, I rip myself away from her as if she’s burned me. She blinks at me, bewildered, innocence and trust in her eyes.
“You’ll understand soon,” I promise, although it doesn’t explain much and just adds to her confusion. I can’t bring myself to explain right now, knowing I’ll take it to the limit. I risk touching her once more, reaching out to sweep her bangs behind her ear and running my thumb along her jaw, up over her bottom lip. “The thing I’m gonna miss the most is the way you look at me,” I say, then, with my chest tight and my heart breaking, I turn and leave her there.
My phone buzzes incessantly in my pocket for the whole drive home, but I ignore it. I want it to be Harlow, and the longer I go without confirming it’s not, the longer I can hope that it is. Except, when I do finally check it, not being Harlow is the least of the bad news.
Father:You have twelve hours. You tell her or I will.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Ezra
I wait for Harlow outside The Grind, greeting Celeste with a nod as she locks up. Harlow turns to me, walking straight into my arms, and I relax. She’s quickly become all-consuming to me. I think about her constantly, want to see her every minute I can, and only feel truly complete when she’s around, preferably in my arms. Don’t get me wrong, I’m a content guy—I love my life, my friends, my family, my business—but she tops it all off like the perfect little cherry.
She pulls back with a smile, and I take her hand in mine as we head back to the apartment.
“How was your day?”
“I saw you four hours ago,” she says with a chuckle, but that’s four long hours.
“How was your afternoon, then?”
“Average. How was yours?”
I talk her through the work I did this afternoon, chatting aimlessly until we reach her place. I naturally go to follow her but rethink it at the last minute, which makes her look up at me with a slight frown.
“You can come in,” she says with confusion. “Unless you don’t want to,” she quickly tacks on the end, with hurt in her voice.
“Of course I want to.” Her brow rises in question, so I follow her in and lean against the island, waiting for her to drop her stuff on the counter before I start talking. “Look, I get that you’re not as comfortable in this as I am.”
She grimaces, and I smile softly, pulling her against me. She rests her chin on my chest, giving me her full attention as our arms wrap around each other.
“I have issues...” she says softly.
“Maybe, but that’s okay. But you not being open with what you’re thinking means I have to guess. And although IthinkI get you, we haven’t known each other that long, so I’m kind of flailing around blind. Which isn’t a bad thing,” I add, when her eyes dim, “but it means I won’t always get it right, and you have to cut me some slack. You went through something traumatic—”
“I don’t even know what that was,” she mumbles.
“That’s what I mean—not knowingistraumatic. I don’t know where you’re at with processing that. It’s only been a couple days. Do you need space? Do you feel off?”
As much as I want to fuck her every time I touch her, she might not be ready for that. She thinks it over for a minute before she unwraps her arms and leans back against the counter opposite. It only puts a couple of feet between us, but it feels like a lot.
“I was trying not to process. I wanted to pretend it didn’t happen and trust in my body that I’d know if anything was done to me...”
Another wave of fury crashes over me that she’s even in that position, but I nod. If that’s what she wants to do, that’s her choice and I’ll support it, even if it might not be the healthiest way. When she realizes that, I’ll be here too.
“That was clearly naive of me,” she continues. “I’m used to pushing feelings away, but it doesn’t seem to be working this time, and I think I’m blaming you for making me feel again.” She smiles softly, showing she’s half joking, but I’m quiet, urging her to continue opening up to me. “I’m scared,” she admits. “But I have no idea what of. I don’t know how to process it, because what am I processing?”
“I wish I could help you.” I will do whatever it takes.
“You do. You help by understanding and being patient. I remembered a bit more this afternoon. Nico made me jump, and it kind of jolted something in my memory.” My eyebrows shoot up at her words. I don’t know what I expected when she stepped away, but it wasn’t that. “It’s not a lot, and I didn’t want to dump too much on you or Sawyer.”
My body tenses with the need to go to her, but I give her the space she’s taken for a little bit longer.
“Harlow, I want it all. I don’t know how else to show you that, other than continuing to prove it over time, but I want it all.”
She nods as if convincing herself that’s true, searching my eyes for something before she continues.
