Every day with Harper made me regret all the days I’d spent fighting with her. Could we have had this sooner if we’d just pulled our heads out of our asses earlier?
When Ava knocked ten minutes later, I was expecting her usual whirlwind entrance. Instead, she slipped inside quietly, her face unusually serious.
“Hey,” she said, glancing between Harper and me. “How’s the studying going?”
“Good,” Harper answered when I didn’t immediately respond. Ava’s expression was setting off alarm bells in my head. She held herself stiffly and wouldn’t make direct eye contact with me. “We’re almost done with our presentation prep.”
“That’s great.” Ava sat down on the edge of the couch, her movements careful in a way that reminded me of howpeople acted around explosive devices. “So, um, I need to tell you guys something.”
The bottom of my stomach fell out. I fucking knew something was wrong. “What happened?”
Ava’s gaze flicked to Harper, then back to me. “I was on the phone with Mom earlier, and we were just talking about the usual stuff and, um…” She paused, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. “And I might have mentioned how happy I am that you and Harper are together.”
Fuck. “Ava.”
“I know, I know!” She held up her hands defensively. “I didn’t mean to! It just slipped out. Mom was talking about how different you seem lately, how much more settled and she thought it was fatherhood—which to be fair did settle you down a lot—but that’s when I slipped and mentioned Harper. And there was no way to backtrack. You know Mom’s like a shark when there’s blood in the water, and I think she was already suspicious after that dinner when Harper stopped by.”
Harper had gone completely still beside me, her face pale. “What did she say?”
“She went quiet for a really long time,” Ava said, her voice small. “Then she started asking questions. A lot of questions. About how serious you two are, and whether Dad knows, and if you’ve thought about what this means for the family.”
I scrubbed a hand over my face. “And?”
“I fucked up.” Ava’s shoulders sagged. “So bad.”
When she finally met my eyes, I knew it was about to get worse. “How bad?” I asked, though I suspected I already knew the answer.
Ava’s face crumpled. “Dad’s on his way here.”
“How long do we have?” Harper’s voice was steady, but I could hear the undercurrent of panic.
“Maybe thirty minutes at most?” Ava checked her phone. “Dad speeds when he’s angry.”
I stood up, still holding Rory, my mind racing through options. “Okay. Harper, you should probably?—”
“I’m not leaving.”
“Harper—”
“I’m not leaving,” she repeated, louder this time. “I spent the last few days dealing with my father’s disapproval, and I’m not going to hide from yours either.”
“This isn’t the same thing,” I said, panic creeping into my voice. “My dad isn’t just going to yell and leave. He’s going to?—”
“What? Forbid you from seeing me?” Harper’s laugh was bitter. “Try to break us up? Threaten to cut you off?”
The accuracy of her predictions made my stomach churn. “Yes. All of that.”
“Then we’ll deal with it together.” She stood up, crossing her arms over her chest. “I’m not running away, Drew.”
Part of me wanted to argue with her, to make her see that facing my father’s wrath wasn’t worth it,especiallyafter what she’d already dealt with from her own father. But the larger part of me—the part that had fallen completely head over heels for this stubborn, beautiful woman—felt a surge of pride and gratitude so strong it nearly knocked me over.
“Are you sure?” I asked, even though I could see the determination written across every line of her body. I would take this hit for us if she wanted to avoid this mess.
“I’m sure.”
Ava looked between us with wide eyes. “This is either really romantic or really stupid.”
“Probably both,” I admitted.
