“And I wasn’t about to let that happen,” I say.
“So you crashed the wedding and saw to it that my sister didn’t marry a man who would annul the marriage within days of fucking her. That’s admirable, of course. But I’m not buying it that nothing went down between the two of you after that.”
I narrow my eyes at him while keeping my peripheral on the hallway to the bathroom. The last thing I want is for Harper to see or hear us talking about her. “What are you implying?” I ask.
“I’m implying that you and Harper are acting differently. I’m not an idiot. You spent several days alone with my little sister at a remote villa in a tropical paradise when she was heartbroken and vulnerable,” he says.
“I mean it when I tell you that I did not and would not take advantage of your sister,” I tell him with just as much vigor.
“She’s been through a lot,” Jaylen says. “Our childhood was bullshit, and I have spent half my life making sure she grows up happy and unjaded.”
“Believe me when I say, I too only want what is best for Harper,” I argue. I get where he is coming from, but I’m not the bad guy here. I’m not Daniel.
“Then you know it’s best for her to keep the promise she made to herself. No sex until she’s married,” he says.
“What are you suggesting I’m going to do?” I ask.
Jaylen puts his hands up. “I don’t know. Honestly, after finding out that she was eloping, you ran off to stop it without really knowing a damn thing about it, and that has me unsure about your motives. All I am saying is that Harper has some strict morals. They mean a lot to her; therefore, they mean a lot to me. If you respect me as your best friend at all, you’ll keep it in your pants.”
I am ready to fight back. His assumptions, though not inaccurate, feel out of line. But before I can say anything, Harper appears.
“Alright, you two, you can stop talking about me now,” she says with a smile, and I force a smile. She doesn’t catch on to the fact that we were really talking about her the entire time, or that it wasn’t the best conversation.
Chapter 21
Harper
Costa Rica is paradise, but it’s good to be home. Even if it is snowing and traffic is horrendous. Denver traffic is awful even without black ice. When I came home to my apartment, I found a leak directly over my bed, so I guess I’m getting new bedding. At least I get to go shopping with Darlene now.
I think the surprise dinner with Jaylen went pretty well. It was amazing sleeping in the next day before meeting up with Darlene for coffee and Target browsing.
“So I know we’ve kept in touch,” she says as she grabs a cart. Darlene has a motto when it comes to Target:You don’t go to Target knowing what you need. You go to Target and let Target tell you what you need.Even though she is there to help me find new bedding, she is pushing her own cart with one hand and holding an iced latte in the other. “But I sense you have more to tell.”
I take a sip of my iced vanilla latte with oat milk and shake my head casually. “Not really. I mean, I’ve just been working a lot.”
“Working with Asher. For Asher. At the beck and call of Asher,” she says while sifting through the bargain section,tossing a few things she probably doesn’t need into the cart. “I know that can’t be nothing.”
“It’s been a lot of learning the ropes and trying to understand the business side of the industry. I haven’t had time for much else,” I say as I tap my fingernail on a set of orange-tinted martini glasses. I want to make sure they’re glass, not plastic.
“So you’re telling me that you haven’t done anything with that man since you got home? After being all over each other for nearly a week? Being in America changes your chemistry that much?” she asks. I set the glasses in the cart and shrug, refusing eye contact. “I don’t buy it,” she adds.
I sigh with a smile and take another sip of my coffee. Then Darlene smiles too, pushing her cart towards the home section.
“There it is,” she says. “You’re hiding something. You have third base written all over your face.”
The only thing written all over my face right now is a rosy blush because Darlene doesn’t have an inside voice, and even if she did, she still wouldn’t know what is appropriate in public talk and what isn’t.
“Did we ever actually establish what third base is?” I ask as we reach the bedding section, which, other than a couple of old ladies, is a ghost town. I run my hand over a lavender sheet set, and my mind drifts back to the villa, to the impossibly soft white bedding.
To him.
“I think the real question is, have you gone further since we last talked?”
I open my mouth. Close it again. Bite my lips. Fuck.
“That’s a yes,” she says. “Spill it! What did you do?”
“We just kissed,” I whisper.
