Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 83786 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83786 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
“You got a new job already?”
“Well, no, not yet.” She shrugged. “But I will. I mean, it’s only a matter of time, and I don’t want to be stuck with a payment if I don’t need to.”
“Understandable.”
She pulled off her glasses to dry the rain off with the bottom of her sweater and huffed a little in frustration.
God, she was beautiful. Her hair was damp, and she was wearing a dress that hung past her knees. The wind blew it around a little bit as she stood there struggling with her glasses, and the longer it went on, the redder her cheeks got.
“Here, let me,” I ordered, moving closer. I put my hand out for her glasses and waited. When she handed them over, she barely looked at me, but the moment I pulled my shirt out from under my hoodie, her gaze zeroed in on the sliver of skin at my waistband. I handed them back slowly.
“Thanks,” she said, staring at her glasses before sliding them back on her face.
“You gonna look at me?” I asked, leaning down a little to try and catch her eye.
“I am,” she shot back, her eyes finally meeting mine.
“What’s up?” I asked, searching her face.
“Just looking for a car,” she replied, her voice thin. “What’s up with you?”
“Called you this weekend.”
“You did?”
“A few times. Yeah.”
“Oh, uh.” She looked away and then back at me. “My phone’s dead.”
Well, that was clear enough. It wasn’t the first time I’d gotten the brush-off, but I had to say, it was the most surprising. I hadn’t been by myself on Titus’s porch. I knew she’d been just as pulled in as I was.
“Got it.” I nodded and took a step back. “The Toyota is the nicest of the three. Plus, it’s got heated seats. I’d choose that one.”
I turned to leave but stopped when she reached out to grab my arm.
“No, really,” she said, lifting her eyebrows. “My phone is dead. I haven’t turned it on since I got home.”
“You need to go get a charger.”
Harper let out a dry laugh as her hand fell away. “Yeah, I know. I have one—I just didn’t use it. I planned on plugging back in as soon as we finished with this car stuff. I just didn’t want to deal with any of it yet.”
“Still hidin’ out, huh?”
“Nope, that stops today,” she said ruefully. “Getting a car. Turning on my phone. Who knows what I’ll do next. Maybe start reaching out to my contacts about jobs.”
“Look at you go.”
“Woo hoo,” she said with a sigh. “Fuck, it’s cold out here. I need to borrow a coat from my mom or something.”
“Come on,” I ordered, leading her over to the Toyota. “Climb in.”
I waited for her to unlock the car and then sat down in the passenger seat while she climbed in the driver’s side.
“Dang, this thing is nicer than I thought it would be.”
“Yep,” I said with a nod. “You’ve got cruise control, heated seats, and a backup camera.”
“Fancy shit,” she joked, grinning at me.
I smiled back, glad that she seemed to have lost the awkward, distant thing she’d been doing. I had no clue why she’d disappeared from the party the way she had, but I didn’t want shit to be weird between us. I liked Harper. Even if nothing else ever happened, I wanted to be able to spend time around her.
Of course, I wasn’t an idiot, and I was dying to touch her again. I’d spent the entire weekend thinking about her.
So, when she couldn’t seem to stop staring at my mouth and the tension in the car ratcheted up to eleven, I was fucking in.
Reaching out, I slid my hand into her hair and gripped it at the base of her neck, waiting for her to give any indication that she didn’t want me to touch her. Instead, her eyes fluttered closed, and she leaned into it just enough that her throat arched.
“Fuck,” I muttered.
“This is a bad idea,” she replied, her eyes barely opening as I pulled her toward me across the seat.
“It’s a great idea,” I argued, running my lips along her jaw.
Her skin was so fucking soft. By the time I reached her mouth, her lips had parted and she was ready for me. This kiss, somehow, was better than the first time. Maybe because both of us knew what we were getting, or maybe just because there was nothing tentative about it. One of Harper’s hands cupped my cheek. The other gripped the neck of my hoodie, like she was afraid I was going to pull away from her before she was ready.
I groaned as that hand slipped under the fabric, her nails digging into my trap.
Unwilling to let go of the hair tangled around my fingers, I turned and used the other hand to grip her waist, urging her closer.