“What are you doing?! Get off me!” she shouts.
There it is.
I brace my hands on the floor, attempting to push myself up, but I slip and land on her again each time. I guess I can cross push-ups off my workout list for the day.
“I’m fucking trying. It’s slippery!” I snap.
“How did you manage to get so much water on the floor?” she asks.
“I had to get my soap. I forgot it in my bag.”
“Did you spill that on the floor too? Jesus.”
I roll off of her and stand up. Harper scampers to her feet and for a moment we are both just standing there, breathing heavily as if whatever just happened on the floor was a lot more exciting.
Harper’s eyes rake over me, but I’m not sure if it’s voluntary or not. I can almost feel them as they trail from my shoulders down my chest, abs, and then lower. As if she just realized I amnaked,she slaps her hands over her eyes, and her face turns beet red.
“Oh my God,” she shrieks again.
“That bad, huh?” I ask, stepping back into the shower.
“I was not supposed to see that!” She says as she blindly shuffles towards the door. When I hear her grunt in aggravation, I can’t help but smile.
After I finish showering, I find Harper in the kitchen taking inventory of what is in the fridge and cabinets.
“It’s fully stocked,” I tell her.
“How long do you plan on being here?” she asks.
“Until we fly back. I guess they wanted us to have plenty of options.”
“There’s enough food here to last a week,” she mutters, as if it’s a bad thing. She closes the fridge door and turns around to face me. And with as much authority and sass as she can muster at all of five-foot-two, she holds her chin high and says, “Take me to the airport.”
I just laugh and walk past her to grab a bottle of water from the fridge. “No can do.”
Harper turns to face me again. “Why the hell not? And why are you only wearing a towel!?”
“Which question do you want me to answer first?” I ask, leaning lazily against the counter. I cross one foot over the other, and my towel shifts. Whether it gave her a peek at anything under the towel, I don’t know. But her face flushes to a rose petal pink, and I smirk. “What? I just got out of the shower? I could have walked out here without the towel, but seeing how it sent you into a fit, I did you the courtesy of covering up.”
Harper’s glare shoots lasers into me.
“You got what you wanted,” she says. “You ruined my wedding because you and my asshole brother hate Daniel. His restaurants are better than yours, I get it–”
I scoff at that, but she goes on.
“So now that you’ve managed to destroy any chance I had at happiness, you can take me to the airport.”
I just shake my head. “Our flight isn’t until tomorrow.” Then I turn toward the fridge. “Hungry? There’s chicken, flank steak, shrimp…we could make kebabs…or fajitas?”
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!” she cries out.
“Okay, okay, so not fajitas.”
Suddenly, Harper’s hands are on me, making a rather pathetic attempt to spin me around and back me against the fridge.
“Listen to me,” she says with more malice than I thought she was capable of. I mean, I always knew she was spicy, but damn. I’m almost impressed. “You can’t keep me here. I’m not spending the night with a kidnapper. You’re lucky I don’t call the police.”
“Go ahead,” I tell her. “Call the cops. I won’t stop you.”
