“Breathe, Harlan.” AJ’s voice sounds distant and distorted. His hand moves from my elbow to my waist. The change in contact has me shaking my head. I wasn’t prepared for this. Not at all.
“I’m ok,” I lie. Oliver approaches me, concern creasing his brows. I can see the hesitation in his steps as he takes in theprotective grip that AJ has on me, and at Jules looking back and forth between Dare and me. I smile reassuringly at AJ, despite my heart hammering in my chest, and take a step away from him. I can practically hear my heartbeat, and it wouldn’t surprise me if everyone else here can, too. It’s an insistent drum, more intense than the bass of the music surrounding us.
Travis is the first person to jump into action, removing the drinks from Darío’s hands, distributing them to Jules and AJ. He says something softly to Dare, causing my ex to nod his head. I wish I knew what he was saying yes to. That he’s ok? That he wants to get out of here? I know it’s none of my business, but that doesn’t make me any less curious.
Oliver steps into my space, placing his hand where AJ’s was a moment ago. “If you want to leave, we can. If you want to talk to him, that’s ok. You don’t have to feel guilty for whatever is going on in your pretty head, Harlan.” My eyes start to leak, and I meet his earnest gaze. He swipes the offending tears from my face and kisses my nose. There’s no posturing or possessiveness in his actions. It’s simple comfort and reassurance. “Just tell me what you need, and that’s what will happen.”
“I think I need to talk to him. I’m so sorry,” I whisper hoarsely. It’s an impossible situation, and one I wasn’t prepared for. Conversations will be had with Meg about this toolkit that’s supposed to help me in hard situations. Breathing exercises don’t seem appropriate here. I remember wishing I could be invisible as a child. Little Harlan didn’t need invisibility, but this hot mess adult Harlan does.
Oliver grabs my chin, forcing me to meet his eyes. They shine with compassion and understanding. I may be a selfish human, but I recognize how lucky I am to have a man willing to step aside while I talk to my ex-boyfriend. To the only man I have ever loved. “Do not ever apologize for doing what you need to do. I’ll be right here waiting for you when you’re done.”
“I don’t deserve you,” I admit. I don’t. I didn’t deserve Dare, and I don’t deserve Oliver.
“You don’t have to earn me, Harlan. Go.” He releases his hold on my face, and I turn to see Darío watching closely.
I meet Darío’s unreadable gaze again, and he speaks to me, in person, for the first time in eight months. “Hi, Harlan.” Hearing his voice on the phone, and in videos saved on my phone—that I have watched more times than can possibly be healthy—is nothing compared to him saying my name when he’s standing in front of me.
“Dare,” I say on a sob. Jesus, I’m embarrassing. I guess maybe Meg’s breathing exercises are helpful after all. I suck in a shaky breath, and press the heels of my hands into my eyes. It does nothing to stop the steady flow of tears. I count backward from five before meeting his eyes.
“Can we talk?” he asks, taking a step closer to me. I’m afraid that if he gets too close, the smell of him will cause me to drop dead. Right here in a Pride crossing, in San Francisco. In front of my old boyfriend, and my current maybe boyfriend.Here lies Harlan; he died as he lived. Dramatically.
Harlan lookslike he’s seconds away from breaking down. Travis leads Jules and AJ to the other side of the street, and the man with Harlan follows them. When he kissed Lan’s nose, the primal urge I had to forcibly remove him was as unwelcome as it was unexpected. I have no rights to him anymore. Thankfully, I had a tray of drinks in my hand, preventing me from doing something stupid, like ripping his stupid fucking hands off Harlan. Other than a nod in response to my question, Harlan hasn’t said anything since I asked if we could talk.
He’s standing farther away from me than is probably necessary, but I’m not sure I would be able to control myself if he gets too close. The overwhelming need to pull him into my arms is tugging at me so intensely, it steals my breath. “I thought you were in London.”Brilliant, Darío, you fucking pinecone.
His lip twitches, and I find myself desperately hoping for a glimpse of his smile. “Yes, well, surprise,” he replies, his voice still shaky. “I’m visiting my…I’m visiting Oliver for a longweekend.” He gestures vaguely toward the four men who are pretending not to watch the spectacle before them.
I want to ask him who Oliver is to him, but it’s none of my business. Penelope hasn’t mentioned that he’s seeing anyone, but I’m not sure she would even if he were. “I’m sorry, this is awkward. I can let you get back to whatever you were doing.” As I go to step away, he reaches out and grabs my wrist. My skin lights at the contact, and I freeze. God, the familiarity of his long, delicate fingers wrapped around my wrist reminds me of how his hand felt in mine. Like nothing could ever fit as perfectly as he did with me.
“Please don’t go. Not yet,” he pleads softly. “What happened to your hand?” He gestures at my cast.
“I got nailed with a fastball when we played in Arizona at the beginning of June. It fractured a few bones in my hand, so I’ll be out until at least September.” I don’t want to talk about my hand, though. I want to know about him. Ineedto know about him. “How have you been?” I take a tentative step toward him, and his eyes widen. It feels like a lifetime since I’ve been in his orbit, but my body responds to him without my permission. I can’t help but get pulled in. That’s what Harlan has always done to me. It’s dangerous, but like the fool I am, I let myself get absorbed.
“I’ve been doing better. Pen didn’t give me a choice, you know? We’ve been working on a new campaign, and I’ll be traveling for a shoot toward the end of August, so work has been keeping me busy.” I hang on to every word that leaves his mouth, my attention rapt. Hearing his voice and having him so physically close to me heals a piece of what broke. “They’re still working on my work visa.”
This makes me grin. “I’m so proud of you, sweetness.” The nickname,hisnickname, slips out. “Sorry…”
He holds a hand up. “Please don’t apologize for that. I wasn’t sure I’d ever hear it again, and I just now realized how muchI’ve missed it.” His eyes shimmer with more tears. I reach out to wipe them away, but drop my hand to his arm instead. I know we have an audience across the street, and I don’t want to make things more confusing for either of us. I’m struggling to form reasonable thoughts with him this close to me. All I can focus on is him, and the fierce desire to wrap him in my arms and never let him go.
“Are you happy, Harlan?” I ask softly. I’m not sure what I’m hoping for him to say. Of course I want him to be happy. I want him to have everything. At one point, I would have been able to give him everything, and not for the first time, I wish I could go back to that week and not get on that plane to LA. I wish I could have changed whatever I could to stop him from going to that club with Penelope. Life doesn’t work that way, though. It’s never that easy.
“I’m getting there. My therapist is helping me to forgive myself for fucking everything up. I’m working on it,” he says. “For what it’s worth, I will always regret hurting you. For hurtingus. There is no excuse for what I did.” Remorse flickers across his face.
I pull him in for a hug, eliciting a surprised grunt. I bury my nose in his hair and inhale deeply. The memories that his shampoo drags to the surface hurt and heal in equal measure. “I’ve forgiven you, Harlan. I forgave you then. The fact that we’re both still healing means that we had something worthy of breaking over, right?” His shoulders shake, and he sobs into my chest. “I am so proud of you. I was serious when I said I’d always be cheering you on, sweetness.”
Letting him go feels impossible, but as his sobs start to quiet, he goes to pull away. “I hope Jasper gives you what I wasn’t capable of, Dare. You loved me so well, and I hope you are loving him the way that only you can.” He looks into my eyes, and like always, he reads me well. No one has ever known me the way hedoes. “Don’t shut him out because I fucked up. You deserve to be loved well, too, and I’m sorry I didn’t do that.”
Before I can respond, Harlan stretches to kiss my cheek, then jogs across the street to the four guys trying to pretend that they didn’t witness whatever this was. I don’t follow right away, allowing him time to say goodbye to AJ and Jules. As I stand there, watching him walk away from me for the second time in my life, I realize I’m crying, too. “I don’t know how to love anyone else the way I love you,” I say to his retreating back. For as true as that is, I also don’t know how I could have trusted him if I hadn’t ended things when I did.
I may not be any clearer on my feelings for Harlan, but I do know that I need to let Jasper go. Maybe there’s no future for Harlan and me, but I can’t drag Jasper along when I know without a doubt that I am still in love with Harlan. I can feel the truth of that in every pore of my body, deep in the darkest parts of my soul. Harlan may be the reason for my shattered heart, but at the very core of who I am, I fear he’s the only one who can make me whole. The only question that remains is whether I could ever feel safe with him again.
I don’t have to explain to anyone when I say I’m heading back to the hotel. I’m not in the mood for loud music or crowds. AJ and Jules clap me on the back, and Travis pulls me in for a hug that threatens to undo me all over again. I use the app to get a rideshare, and debate whether I should wait until I’m home to contact Jasper.
Thankfully, there’s a car nearby, so I don’t have to wait long. My mind is racing as I replay the conversation with Harlan. Part of me still can’t believe I actually saw him. The likelihood of us both being in San Francisco the same weekend is so slim that I wonder if I dreamt the whole thing. My phone buzzes in my hand, and Jasper’s name lights up my screen.
Jasper
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