So, yeah. I have to come clean and face the consequences, even if it means Chase hates me for what I’ve done. As terrifying as the prospect is, it’s the right thing to do. I don’t want to carry this guilt anymore, and although he may never want to see me again, we can’t move forward without honesty.
I can either walk away now or take the leap and maybe—with a little help from the universe—get the guy.
Chase
I can’t believe Harper’s really here. After two days without contact, I’d nearly resigned myself to the idea that she was avoiding me. I’d hoped she would show, but I guess deep down I hadn’t believed it.
Not after she’d missed two shifts in a row.
She watches me, clutching a plastic container to her chest and chewing her bottom lip.
Well, this is awkward.
“My dad is pulling the car around,” I say, raking a hand through my hair as I search for words.
Who needs words? Just ask for her number already.
“So, I was think—”
“I’m glad I caught you,” Harper says, cutting me off as the words come tumbling out rapid-fire. “I was afraid you’d already be gone. I made you cookies,” she adds, stepping forward and thrusting a plastic container at me.
“Cookies, huh?” I grin up at her and take the tub, sitting it on the bench next to me. “What about the no-fraternization rule?”
Because, yeah, I’m an idiot.
“I wanted to talk to you about that, actually.” She tucks a loose curl behind her ear as she lowers herself onto the bench next to me. Then she pulls a pair of tiny scissors from her pocket, grabs my wrist, and snips off my hospital wristband. She smiles broadly, her face just inches from mine. This is the closest we’ve been, sitting shoulder to shoulder, hip to hip, our mouths a breath apart. “You are officially no longer a patient.”
I arch a brow. “If I’d known it was that simple, I’d have cut that thing off days ago.”
Harper chuckles and shakes her head. “I’m glad you didn’t. I needed time…to work some things out.”
She pauses and I get the feeling she’s looking for, I don’t know, permission to continue? Or maybe encouragement? “What things?” I ask.
If Harper’s ready to open up to me, I’m here for it. The last couple of days without her have sucked. I missed her smile, her rule-following indignation. Hell, I even missed her snark when I was struggling to get my weak ass out of bed.
“There’s something you should know about me.” She toys with the hem of her shirt, unwilling or unable to meet my eye.
Worry tugs at my gut, but I ignore it. Whatever she has to tell me, it can’t be that bad. And it sure as shit won’t change how I feel about her. Harper’s one of the coolest girls I’ve met. Not only does she totally get my HP references—Potterheads of the world, unite—she’s not afraid to speak her mind or be herself. I love that about her.
Oh, shit.
“You have a boyfriend, don’t you?” I ask, dread crawling up my spine. “Of course you have a boyfriend. I should’ve known. You’re smart, beautiful—”
She presses a finger to my lips and my pulse thunders, roaring in my ears even as my cock stirs with interest.
Great. Because the only way to make this situation more awkward would be getting a hard-on for someone else’s girlfriend.
“I don’t have a boyfriend, Chase.”
Oh, thank Christ.
“So what is it then?” I ask, relief tempered by curiosity.
Harper worries her bottom lip between her teeth. I take her hand in mine, squeezing it gently. “Whatever it is, you can tell me.”
“You were right.” The words are so quiet, at first I think I’ve misheard, because when has Harper ever admitted I was right about anything? “We have met before.”
My brows slam together as I try to work out her meaning.
