“Hey!” I answer a little too brightly.
“I can’t wait any longer.”
Jordan rummages around his chest of drawers and takes out some clothes that he shoves into his bag. Our eyes connect, and he silently mouths, “Who is it?”
I put the call on mute. “Harper.” Unmuting the phone, I ask her, “Can I call you back?”
“No! You decent?”
I peek down at my completely naked body half-covered by a sheet. “Uhh…”
“Well, get dressed because I’m coming in.”
I stare at the phone. “What? Where are you?”
“Right outside the door,” she says, just as I hear a knock.
“Don’t you dare open that door!” I exclaim, hanging up and flying out of the bed, straight at Jordan. “Clothes. Now.”
He catches me and swings me over his shoulder, smacking my backside. “Come back in ten minutes!” he yells at his sister through the door and walks me into his closet.
Let’s just say it takes a little longer than ten minutes to get dressed.
Chapter 39
As we drive to Nat’s house, I listen to Douglass excitedly tell me about her life in North Carolina. How she loved the independence and the fact she could start over somewhere where no one knew her. Her job at the campus café. Learning to surf. The classes she took at the local community college. How she met Harper and Bennett—and Mason. I let his name go into one ear and out the other.
With her walls finally down, she’s a different person. She’s laughing and smiling. Animated and full of life. It’s like seeing the sun for the first time after years of being held prisoner in the dark. And I want to soak up each and every ray.
“Why didn’t you go to Rice?”
The huge smile she was wearing dampens slightly. “Money. As in, I had none, and I wasn’t going to let Natalie break her back trying to pay for it.” Douglass turns her head to look out the window. “It’s okay. Once I save up enough, maybe I can apply to Lonestar.”
Knowing she never got to pursue her dream upsets me. Douglass is so damn smart. She shouldn’t waste that intelligent brain of hers working part-time jobs to scrape up enough money to pay for community college.
An idea starts to form and take root, but it’s pushed aside from the last thing she said.
“You’re sticking around?”
“For a while,” she vaguely replies and fiddles with the Jeep’s radio until she finds a song she likes.
The fact that she’s even thinking of staying gives me hope. Then again, it’s not like I was going to let her leave. When I said she was mine, I meant it. Her home is here with me. I just need to get her to see that.
Going back to the subject of college, I ask, “What classes were you taking?”
Her smile comes back. “I’d always wanted to pursue journalism. But then—”
She looks down at the bangles on her wrist. I reach over and take her hand, threading our fingers together.
“And then?”
She inhales deeply. “And then, I decided to look into becoming a counselor.”
“Like a therapist?”
She nods. “Yeah. I want to help kids like me. I thought, who better to help than someone who gets what they’re going through. It’s a dumb idea.”
Steering left-handed, I bring her hand to my lips and kiss it. “I think it’s a wonderful idea, baby. But whatever you choose to do, you’re going to smash it. I’m so proud of you.”
