Harper seemed willing to go along with just about anything for Asher and had given in without much argument, which made me hope—even if she hadn’t really directly spoken to me since I took them to the house.
I knew she was processing—rolling over the last forty-eight hours in her mind, analyzing and questioning everything. When Harper was silent, that’s when her mind was the busiest—and I knew exactly how to get her out of her head. But there was plenty of time for that later.
With Asher present, I happily focused my attention on getting to know him, learning the ropes of his favourite video game, and listening as he talked about his other interests. It was as if he was eager to fill me in on every detail I’d missed, which was just as well—as I was thirsty for all of those details, and for every little factoid about the small human I’d unknowingly created.
We rented the latest Marvel movie, and the three of us sat down on the sofa. Asher sat with the huge bowl of popcorn on his lap between Harper and me. Luckily, the latest superhero adventure was interesting enough to keep all three of our eyes on the screen. Still, despite keeping my eyes to myself—the tension between us grew, our closeness only nourishing it.
When the final credits rolled, Harper grabbed the remote and turned off the TV. “All right, it’s bedtime, Asher.”
“But Mom, I’m not tired! Besides, I’m going to be eight soon, you know.” He replied, his brows furrowing with indignation.
“Eight-year-olds still require a solid eight hours of sleep. It’s already ten, so you’ve stayed up an hour past bedtime. Plus, it’s a school night.”
Asher gaped, searching for a loophole in her argument. Realizing there was none, he grinned. “Okay, okay. I’m going. Night…Cal.”
“Night, bud.” I grinned, ruffling his wild hair. He hugged me, and I hugged him back. My eyes rose to meet Harper’s. My heart was longing for more than I could voice.
“Will I see you tomorrow?” Asher questioned when he pulled back.
“Name the time and the place,” I told him. No matter what happened, I would always make myself available for him. From here on out, he was going to know he could count on me.
So was Harper, even if I couldn’t convince her to have me again.
She edged past me, careful to avoid my gaze, as if she sensed my train of thought. She was always good at that—at reading between the lines and sensing my moods and emotions and what they meant. Harper was an empath, but it was more than that; it was our connection.
“How about after school, at the bookstore?” Asher suggested, hopefully. “That’s where my bus takes me. You can meet my best friend, Nik!”
“Sounds good, I’ll be there.” I nodded, elation inflating my chest at the smile on his face. He turned, glancing up at his mother with bright eyes.
“See? I told you.” He said to her, and she nodded, biting down on her lower lip, daftly avoiding my questioning gaze.
“Come on, let’s go get you ready for bed.” She managed.
They disappeared up the stairs, and I could hear them moving above me. I closed my eyes for a moment, overcome with a homesick feeling that blasted through me.
Tonight had felt so right, so easy and effortless, and it gutted me that I’d missed out on so many nights like this.
All because I’d been too fucking stubborn and prideful to admit my mistake and turn back. Instead, I’d festered in shame and regret. I allowed myself to fall into the darkest parts of me as a penance for turning my back on the love of my life, but itneverhad to be like that.
And it wouldn’t be like that this time. This time, I would cherish every moment of it. This time, I would be worthy of them.
I was too antsy just to sit there and wait, so I stood, taking the empty bowl of popcorn into the kitchen and dropping the handful of kernels into the trash before turning to the sink. The three plates and cups from our dinner were still sitting in the sink.
I didn’t want her to worry about the mess, so I tidied it, putting the plates, the bowl, and the cups into the dishwasher. I was finishing up wiping down the counters when she walked back into the kitchen. Our eyes locked from across the island. “You didn’t have to do that.” She murmured, glancing around the clean kitchen.
“I wanted to,” I told her, lips tugging up in a grin. Shrugging, I tossed the dishcloth over my shoulder and into the empty sink without looking away from her. Leaning against the island, I pressed my palms down to keep myself from going to her.
Everything in me hummed.
“Well, thank you.” She swallowed, moving around to the other side of the island, those dark magic eyes calling out to me. “I guess we should finish our conversation now.”
“I guess we should.” I nodded, slowly moving around the counter. She watched me warily, her body turning to me, succumbing and yielding to me like a magnetic force.
We stood in charged silence. The energy between us was fueling me, giving me the same kind of high performing gives me. No, not the same—it was a more intoxicating high, a more fulfilling high.
We moved closer to one another, my attention zeroed in on the frantic rise and fall of her chest, and the way she licked her lips—slowly, provocatively. She knew damn well what it did to me.
Then her perfectly manicured hand splayed against my pec, over my heart, halting me.
