Page 108 of Freefall

“How do you know?”

“Because your mom would have called.”

She lets out a slow breath. “I have to go.”

“I know.”

She starts reaching around for her clothes, but I gently catch her hand. “Wait.”

She looks back at me expectantly.

“I wasn’t fair to you that night.”

Her forehead creases before understanding settles over her features.

“I scared you.” The words hurt, but not as much as not saying them would. “You asked for space, and I didn’t respect that. I’m so fucking sorry, Harper.”

For a long moment, she just studies me. Then she sits up, pulling the sheet a little tighter around herself. “I wasn’t breaking up with you.”

“Harper, you don’t…”

“Jace relapsed that day. He called me, and he was high. I didn’t think. I just ran to him.” She looks down at her hands. “I left my phone in the car, and when I got back…I don’t know. I freaked out.” She leans forward, resting her forehead on mine. “I’ve never had anyone care that deeply before, but it wasn’t just that.” She reaches out, resting her hand against my cheek.

“You were having a panic attack. I know that now, but I didn't then, and…” She whispers the last part. “It felt like you were trying to control me.”

“I was,” I admit. “Having a panic attack.” I close my eyes. “But I was also trying to control you.”

When I open my eyes again, my throat feels tight. “God, Dani. I came up with every possible worst-case scenario I could think of. I couldn’t breathe, and then you walked in, and you were angry with me.”

I let out a shaky breath. “It’s not an excuse. I shouldn’t have done what I did. I’m ashamed of the way I acted that day.”

“I accept your apology,” she says softly. Neither of us speaks for a while. It’s not awkward or uncomfortable—just quiet. Eventually, her eyes drift toward the corner of the room and land on something.

“I didn’t know you played.” She nods toward the acoustic guitar leaning against the wall.

“I don’t,” I say quickly.

She raises an eyebrow.

“I mean…I taught myself in high school, but I haven’t touched it in years.”

She nudges my shoulder. “Can I hear?”

“It has dust on it.”

“Does that affect how it sounds?”

“No, but…”

Her lips pout as she looks up at me from under dark lashes. “Please?”

I sigh dramatically. “If only you begged that nicely when I’m between your legs, I wouldn’t have to deny you so much.”

She rolls her eyes, shoving me toward the edge of the bed.

The guitar is slightly out of tune, so I fix it as best I can before dropping back down on the mattress. “What do you want to hear?”

She shrugs. “Surprise me.”