Page 80 of Freefall

So yeah, I tried to hate her.

But the truth is, she could lie to me. Keep secrets. Break my heart over and over again until there’s nothing left.

And I’d forgive her every damn time.

20

HARPER

I roll over and immediately notice the other side of the bed is cold. No soft breaths. No tangle of sandy hair spread across the white pillow. No cold foot nudging my ribs.

Daisy didn’t come in last night.

I sit up, staring at the empty space next to me. She has climbed into my bed every single night since we moved here. A knot forms in my stomach, and I throw back the covers and rush to her room.

The second I crack the door open, relief washes over me. She’s exactly where we left her last night, although now she’s sprawled diagonally across the mattress, snoring softly.

Exactly where we left her.

As in Nate and me.

Right before I quite literally begged him to have sex with me.

And then I…

Shame rises hot against my neck. What the hell was I thinking? Not about the begging. That isn’t exactly new territory for us. He likes me desperate, and we did agree to a physical relationship. No, it’s the other part…I asked him to stay. I knew Daisy could have wandered into my room in the middle of the night like she always does. I knew she could have found him in my bed, and I asked anyway. How could my judgment have been so clouded?

Nate Caldwell has always had that effect on me. Grace didn’t know the half of it when she called him a generous lover all those years ago. Being with Nate is like taking a straight hit of dopamine. It leaves me floating somewhere between boneless and brainless, convincing me I need more of him in whatever way I can get it. Other guys I’ve slept with fuck in Morse code, shallow, uncoordinated jerks that were not usually enough to get me off, but Nate? Nate fucks in cursive, long smooth curves and dips, deep penetrating thrusts and perfect hip circles. He fucks like he’s creating art or composing a symphony.

The knock at the front door pulls me from my thoughts.

Shit.

I’m not sure I’m emotionally prepared to see him right now.

Another knock follows the first, lighter and less insistent. Definitely not Nate’s knock. God, how do I know his knock by heart?

I pull open the front door to find TJ standing there, his wavy blonde hair hidden behind his signature backward baseball cap, a black camera bag slung over his shoulder.

Right. I completely forgot that I finally texted him back yesterday after putting it off for way too long. I gave him a vague excuse for what happened in the cafeteria at back-to-school night. He hadn’t pushed me on it, only asked if he could swing by this morning to borrow my extra telephoto lens. I told him to come by anytime. Apparently, he interpreted that literally. One more reason it would have been a complete disaster if Nate had spent the night.

I shove the thought aside. “Hey, TJ. Come on in.”

“Sorry.” His smile falters for a fraction of a second, his gaze dipping down before meeting mine again. Something flickers across his face, but it’s gone before I can place it. “I realized halfway here that when you said anytime, you probably didn’t mean eight in the morning.”

A sheepish grin replaces whatever I thought I saw on his face. “I’m an early riser.”

“It’s no problem.” I wave him inside. “Let me grab the lens.”

He follows me into the living room but stops short as I disappear into my bedroom. I slide open the closet where I keep all my photography gear, and that’s when I see it. A thin strip of red fabric lying on the floor. My stomach drops. It’s the underwear I was wearing last night. The pair Nate ripped from my hips and tied me up with. My gaze slowly travels downward. I’m still wearing last night’s dress and absolutely nothing underneath it.

“Harper?” TJ calls from the other room. A wave of panic spreads through me, and I kick the panties aside.

“One minute!” I call back, grabbing the first clean pair of underwear I can find. Praying he doesn’t decide to come looking for me, I yank off my dress and throw on leggings and a tank top.

Good enough.

I grab the telephoto lens from the closet shelf and head back into the living room.