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Finally, I call her one more time, before I get in my car.
I start driving, foot goading the car faster and faster. It’s only once I turn onto the street her building is on that I realize that’s where I’ve been heading.
Maybe not the best idea, but fuck it, she sounded really upset. Maybe she needs me.
I know I…
Just stick to the plan, Greyson.
That’s the problem, though: I don’t have one.
It takes me staring at her building’s buzz pad and firmly locked set of doors for me to remember that I don’t even know her room number. I badger the man at the front desk through the glass until he grudgingly allows me to look up her name and buzz the room number.
“Be right down,” someone says over the line when I tell her who I am.
A woman with light brown hair eyes me appraisingly as she steps off the elevator.
“Is she here?” I ask, then, seeing her scowl, add, “Sorry, this is Greyson. Her… work colleague.”
The last part comes out wrong and awkward.
“I know who you are.” Her glare indicates that she has no illusions about me being Harley’s ‘colleague’. Is this the cousin Harley told me so much about? “And she can’t see you right now.”
“She’s OK?” I ask. “She called me saying that she needed to talk to me. Are you sure she won’t?”
“Yes,” she says firmly. “Although I’ll tell her you stopped by.”
“Good. Thank you.”
We stand there, eyeing each other for a good minute.
“I really think I should see her,” I press. “She said it was important.”
“You can’t now.”
Another minute, an exchange of glares. All of me is burning to shove past this woman, demand to see Harley, talk to her face to face.
“Why not?” I snap.
“She’s sleeping, wasn’t feeling well earlier,” she says. And here I thought her glare couldn’t get any fiercer. “She doesn’t want to see you. Did she ask you to come here?”
“No,” I admit. “Just…” I trail off.
Pushing this much to see Harley, I’m not doing it for her. I’m doing it for me. To see her, to know she’s OK. To see her smile just one more time.
But that’s not fair to her. I was the one who ended things with her, even fired her. The least I can do is respect her wishes now.
Even though I don’t like it. Not one fucking bit.
“Alright,” I say. “Just tell her… I’ll be waiting for her call. Whenever she’s able to.”
“I will,” she says.
And still, I can’t seem to force my dipshit feet to take me away. What am I expecting, Harley to come skipping out of the elevator, wearing that great big grin of hers that always melted my heart?
With a normal person, hell no. But this is Harley, who defies convention and any state of normalcy. If anyone would do it, show up when least expected in the wildest way possible, it’s her.
But the elevator doors stay closed, and finally the woman turns to leave.
“Wait,” I call after her.
She pauses. “What?”
“Are you Hannah?”
She nods.
“Can you… can you tell her, just that I’m sorry. That I care about her a lot.”
Her face remains stony.
“I know what you must think of me,” I say. “Just… Yeah. I’m sorry.” I turn to go.
“Greyson,” she says.
“Yeah?”
“If you really care about her, you’ll stay away from her. All you can do now is hurt her.”
I gaze at her steadily. She’s right. I’ve done nothing but hurt Harley, after all this.
“I can’t make any promises,” I tell her. Not with Harley working like a magnet on me hour in hour out, even now. “But I will try.”
Her smile is sad and she wants to say more, but she only nods, turns to go. “Goodbye.”
“Goodbye,” I say hoarsely after her.
As I walk away and out of the building, down a street I don’t know, and then another, away from my car, towards I don’t know where, it occurs to me. Harley is the only woman I’ve ever known who could bring tears to my ears when she wasn’t even there.
At some point, I make it back to my car, and my phone goes off.
This time, it’s Nolan. “You can’t avoid me forever, big brother.”
“Avoiding you?”
“Yeah. This is the tenth call, but I’m not going to give up that easily.”
“This is the first call I’ve gotten from you.”
“What?” A pause. “Shit, ha. I was calling the wrong number. That explains it.”
“OK.”
“Don’t you want to know what it’s about?” he continues.
“I assumed you were going to tell me.”
“Oh, Mr. Bigshot Greyson Storm. Always knows the who and why of it all.”
“Except for this time.”
“Alright, alright—I thought I’d let you know: I’m ready for us to go out. I know I bailed last time—my hot ex Sammy called—but this time, we’re a go. For real. A hundred percent.”
“And if I’m not feeling it?”
