Chapter Nineteen
Levi
If the douchebag moves his hands any lower on Harper’s back, I’m going to lose my shit and march onto the dance floor to physically remove them from her body. This is fucking torture, watching her dance with him. Screw first dances and bridal party requirements.
“Here,” a guy says, thrusting a bottle of beer in front of me.
I take the drink and note the giver. It’s Harper’s brother, Carson. “Thanks.”
“You looked like you needed one.”
“That obvious, huh?”
“Yeah, but don’t sweat it. We’ve all been there.”
“Wanting to break a guy’s nose?”
Carson laughs. “More than once, my friend. More than once.”
I down a large gulp of the ale. We’re standing in the backyard under a large umbrella. There are umbrellas all over, blocking most of the sun, but spaced to allow for some beams to filter through, too. The dance floor is transparent and spans the swimming pool. A bar, cocktail tables, and flower arrangements fill the rest of the area. Food servers weave through the guests. In another part of the yard I didn’t even realize existed, dinner will be served.
The song ends, thank fuck, but rather than come to me like I hope, Harper stays put to dance with the other bridesmaids and her cousin. The song is “P.Y.T.” by Michael Jackson.
Her eyes briefly catch mine when she glances over her shoulder. One little look and my pulse picks up. Good to know she’s as aware of me as I am of her.
“Funny how you and my sister met up again,” Carson says. “I vaguely remember being pissed at you because she wanted to play with you instead of me.”
“Really?” Carson is a couple of years older than Harper, and yeah, I recall him not liking me very much.
“Yeah. She also told me in that bossy tone of hers she was going to marry you.”
“Who’s being bossy?” Harper’s dad asks. He’s got a glass filled with amber liquid on the rocks in his hand. His free hand, he extends to me. “Nice to see you again, Levi.”
We shake. “You, too.”
“Harper can be bossy,” Carson says.
“When you grow up with two older brothers who let you get away with everything, that’s what happens.”
Carson shrugs. My attention drifts over to the dance floor. Harper is shaking her hips and swinging her arms, and if her father weren’t standing next to me, my dick would have a strong reaction to her skills.
“Harper mentioned you’re a cameraman,” William says.
“Yes.”
“Did she tell you about the job I want her for?” He takes a sip of his drink, like he casually tosses out that question all the time, but I get the feeling he doesn’t.
“No. I thought she wanted the ambassador job with MASF.”
A twenty-something girl bounces up to Carson, says they need to boogie, and tugs him toward the dance floor. He doesn’t look too pleased by the invitation, but stumbles along behind her anyway.
“She does,” William says. “But I always pictured all three of my children working for me. I admire her philanthropic aspirations, but they’re a hobby, not a job.”
“What is it you do?” I think it’s something to do with the media.
He explains he owns numerous companies around the world involved in mass media enterprises. He also invests in films, and he wants Harper to work on an upcoming film as a swim consultant. Normally, I’m all about talking movies, but I don’t want to get in the middle of anything between Harper and her dad. Thankfully, I’m saved from further discussion when my phone rings. It’s not often I get an actual call, so I quickly check it.
“Sorry, but I need to answer this.” I reach over to put my beer down on the closest cocktail table. William nods then turns his attention to another guest.
“Hello?” I say to Elliot, pressing my cell to my ear and walking toward a quieter area of the backyard. I press a finger to my other ear so I can hear better.
“Hey, where are you?” Elliot asks. We’ve seen each other for all of ten minutes over the past week, what with our busy work schedules.
“I’m at a wedding.”
“You are? Whose is it?”
“Harper’s cousin.” I hadn’t mentioned it. And I haven’t mentioned Harper to him, either. Technically, I won the bet, but I forgot about our stupid wager a while ago and plan to give him the money. I don’t want what I did with Harper tied to my competition with him. “Aren’t you in Chicago? Is everything okay?”
“I quit.”
“Your job?” I knew it stressed him out, but I thought he liked it.
“Yeah. They piled one too many ridiculous demands on me, and I walked out of a meeting and caught the first flight home.”
I lean against a giant tree on the periphery of the reception. I’ve still got Harper in my sights, but barely.
“I was fucking tired of all the bullshit,” he adds. “I’ve busted my ass for the past two years, and I’m done.”
“I’m sorry, man.”
“I need to get shitfaced.”
And he needs a friend to do it with. Since Mateo is out of town, that leaves me. “Want to crash a wedding?” By the looks of it, there’s enough alcohol here for three weddings, and this way I don’t have to ditch Harper.
“Brilliant idea. I can drink and hook up with someone.” I hear some rustling, like he’s changing his clothes. “Speaking of hooking up. Where do we stand on our bet? Did you sleep with Harper again?”
Right on cue, the woman in question comes into clearer view. I don’t want to have this conversation in front of her. “Yeah, but not because of the—”
“Well, shit. I owe you a Ben, then.”
“Hey,” Harper says floating over to me. Her strapless green dress brushes the ground, and the way she moves gives the illusion she’s drifting. She is incredibly beautiful, graceful, and by the look on her face, curious about what I’m doing over here and who I’m talking to.
“You don’t. Gotta go. I’ll text you the address.” I disconnect the call.
“Is everything all right?” she asks.
“That was Elliot. He quit his job.”
“Mr. Suit-and-Tie quit? That seems very out of character for him.”
“Yeah. I don’t think it’s sunk in yet, but he needs some company and alcohol. Do you think anyone would mind if he came here?”
She glances over her shoulder at the crowd of people eating, drinking, dancing and talking. “I think it’s fine.” She gives me the address, and I text it.
“So,” I gather her into my arms. “This is much better.”
She wraps me closer. “Yeah? Why is that? Because you’re trying to cop a feel of my ass, or because you’re angling to look down my dress?”
I grab her ass and glance down at her chest. “Both.”
“All the single girls are drooling over you, by the way. Some of the married ones, too. I’m being bombarded with questions about us.”
“What are you telling them?”
“That I hired you for the weekend.” She gives me an exaggerated grin. “And that you’re very expensive but, so far, well worth it.”
“That explains the invitation I got to go to Hawaii,” I tease back.
“How fun. When are you leaving?”
“Okay, you two, get a room,” Colleen says, brushing by us. “But not until after I throw the bouquet!”
Harper gives me a serious look. “I don’t do the bouquet thing.”
“That’s good. Neither do I.”
“I might be up for the room thing, though. Want to sneak into the guesthouse?”
“Lead the way.” She’s had me turned on since the second I saw her. A quickie is exactly what I need to tide me over until we’re back at my place later.
“Come on.” Taking my hand, she leads me around cocktail tables and the dance floor, where the photographer intercepts to ask us for a picture. That ten-second delay costs us.
Good friends of Harper’s parents stop to chat with us next. Then it’s friends who’ve known Harper since she was a little girl.
When Elliot arrives, we abandon any hope of sneaking away, but that’s okay. It’s a great evening, and when we get back to my house around midnight, I show her just how well worth it I am.
…
“I turned it off,” Harper says matter-of-factly.
“Really?”
“Yep.”
“Let’s see.” We’re on the couch, her feet are in my lap, and apparently she’s “turned off” her ticklishness. She’s got several ticklish spots—under her arms, on her right side, on her stomach near her hipbone. And the bottoms of her feet. I lightly trace my finger along the sole of one foot.
Sure enough, she stays still.
I keep going. She flinches a tiny bit when my finger tickles the soft center, but I can tell she’s concentrating on keeping her body under control.
“See?” she says. “Not ticklish.”
I could get used to mornings like this. Harper lying beside me, wearing one of my shirts and a tiny pair of underwear and nothing else. Her hair a wild, sexy mess around her shoulders. Her smell on my skin. The television tuned to ESPN, the volume low.
“What about if I move here?” I slowly drag the tips of my fingers to the inside of her ankle, over the anklet I gave her, and continue up her calf.
“Nope,” she forces out. It’s getting more difficult for her to keep still. Because there’s one more place she’s ticklish, and the anticipation is sometimes worse than the actual tickling.
“What about here? Have you turned it off here?” I trace one finger behind her knee.
“Okay! Stop!” She giggles and kicks her feet.
I roam my hands all over her body as I climb on top of her. She tries tickling me back, but I’m not ticklish anywhere. Her shirt rides up her thighs. Her legs open so I can better situate myself. Then we’re kissing. She slides a hand inside my boxer briefs and grabs a fistful of my tee with the other.
She tastes like coffee and feels like cashmere, and I want this girl for more Sunday mornings.
The timer on the oven beeps. I ignore it, but Harper squirms and says, “the cinnamon rolls.” For breakfast, she wanted the refrigerated rolls you buy at the store and just put in the oven, so that’s what she’s getting.
I lift up on to my elbows. “Do you want to put the icing on?”
“That’s okay, you can do it. I’ll just lounge here on the couch waiting to be served,” she says playfully. One thing Harper is not is a pampered princess, which makes doing things for her that much more enjoyable.
“I hear it’s best to eat cinnamon rolls shirtless.” I get to my feet and give her a hand sitting up.
“Great idea. You should take yours off.”
“I will if you will.”
She swats my butt. “Go. I don’t like my cinnamon rolls too well done.”
“Be right back.” I stride across the hardwood floor and around the corner into the kitchen with a ridiculous grin on my face. I’m stoked she seems in no rush to leave this morning. Elliot went home with a friend of Colleen’s last night, so we’ve got the house to ourselves. “They look good,” I call as I pull the pan out of the oven.
“Great!” she calls back.
I’m plating our breakfast when the doorbell rings.
“Want me to get that?” Harper asks loudly.
It’s probably my next-door neighbor, Zoe. She’s the cutest kid and usually makes an appearance on the weekends to see what the guys and I are up to. She’s especially close to Mateo and most likely checking to see if he’s home from his trip. “Sure.”
“Hi. Can I help you?” Harper says.
“Who are you?” The familiar female voice floats to my ears, and my body immediately goes rigid, every muscle in my body flexing.
A second later, I’m at Harper’s side, looking at Kayla on my doorstep. Her eyes slide to mine. The hairs on the back of my neck stand up. “Hi. Can we talk?” she says sweetly.
Beside me, Harper tenses.
“I’m busy, Kayla, and I thought you weren’t coming back here again.” This is what I get for not texting her back.
Harper darts a look at me out of the corner of her eye. Her face is blank, so I’ve no idea what she’s thinking.
“I needed to see you. There’s something you should know.”
“You have nothing to say that concerns me anymore.”
“Levi.” She reaches out to touch my arm, but Harper blocks her hand.
“Don’t touch him,” Harper says in a possessive tone.
“Excuse me, but who are you?” Kayla bites out.
“I’m his girlfriend, and I know all about you, so please turn around and leave us alone.”
My girlfriend? I fucking love the save.
Kayla doesn’t. Her eyes turn into slits. “This is none of your business.”
“It kind of is.”
“Levi, can I please have a word with you alone?” She puts a hand on her stomach, no doubt to draw attention there, and the part of me that does wish her well rises to the surface.
“Whatever you have to say, you can say in front of both of us,” Harper says.
Fuck. While I want that to be true, I’m worried about what Kayla might say. She’s not here to play nice. She’s here because she wants something.
“I don’t think so, slut. And if you think I’m wrong, ask him.”
“What did you just call me?”
“Kayla, that’s enough. You can say whatever you want to me, but don’t talk to her like that.” I’m trying to keep my cool and be careful not to say the name “Harper.” I don’t want to give Kayla any more ammunition to use against me later.
“I’m sorry,” she says to me, not Harper. “My emotions are all over the map with the baby and all.”
Oh hell no. If she brings up the baby and me in the same sentence in front of Harper, I’ll lose it. I don’t know what her end game is, or what she hopes to accomplish by standing at my front door, but I don’t want Harper involved any more than she already is.
“Understandable, but I have nothing to say to you. I told you the other week, you need to talk to—”
“I just need you to listen for five minutes,” she says in a way that’s both desperate and pleading.
Harper cringes. I’m not sure in reaction to who, but it’s enough that I want Kayla gone.
“No. I’m sorry.” I start to shut the door.
Kayla slaps the wood, making a loud thud to halt my progression. “You have to listen to me! You have to help me!”
“Whoa,” Harper says, putting a hand up. “It’s okay.”
A look crosses Kayla face. One I’ve seen countless times. It’s her Academy-Award–winning, smug, got-you-where-I-want-you face. I don’t buy it anymore, not for a second. My temper flares. I’m reminded that this girl is toxic and doesn’t care about anyone but herself.
“Get the hell away from me,” I say, reining in my escalating anger—and my fear. That Kayla didn’t heed Elliot’s warning, that she’s about to get worked up again, concerns me.
“Levi,” Harper says quietly.
“She’s crazy,” I say.
“I’m not,” Kayla argues. “I’m still in love with you, Levi, and want us to raise this baby together.”
Harper stumbles back like Kayla punched her in the stomach.
My pulse flies out of control. If Kayla thinks for one second that we’ll ever get back together, she’s delusional. I clench my fists and take a deep breath. “Leave right now, Kayla, and don’t ever come back, or I swear to God—”
“It’s a boy,” Kayla announces. “Another boy for us to—”
Harper gasps.
“Stop fucking talking and leave before I call the police.” I close the door on her protests and lock it. She knocks and screams my name. I hate that she’s forced me to act like this, but there’s no reasoning with her when she sets her mind on something.
The neighbor up the street is a police officer. I call him and tell him the situation, that my ex is mentally unstable and pregnant—not with my child—and on my porch. He agrees to run over and escort her off the property, making sure she’s okay to drive. I thank him and hang up.
When I look around for Harper, she’s not in the room. My stomach sinks.
I find her in my bedroom getting her things together to leave. Seeing her visibly upset hurts worse than anything Kayla could have said.
“Hey.” I put my phone on the nightstand and hug her from behind, the feel of her body against mine instantly helping to ease my anxiety.
“Your heart is pounding,” she says.
“Yeah.”
She gently moves out of my arms and sits on the bed. “So is mine. That was kind of intense.”
“It was. I’m sorry.”
“This isn’t the first time Kayla’s been here recently,” she says to the floor.
I kneel before her, hands on top of her knees. I’m grateful when she meets my eyes. “She showed up here out of the blue a week and a half ago. I hadn’t seen her in months before that.”
“What did she want?”
“To upset me. Tell me lies so I’m miserable like her.”
“It sounds to me like she wants you back and the baby is yours.”
I straighten my back and tilt Harp’s chin up between my thumb and finger so I can look her right the eyes. “The baby is not mine, and it doesn’t matter how she feels about me. I don’t want anything to do with her ever again.”
“Are you sure?”
Fuck, it hurts for her to even ask that question after everything that’s happened between us.
“I’m sure I can’t be around her, and I’m sure she’s lying about the baby. She’s married to the guy who knocked her up.”
“The guy she cheated on you with?”
“Yeah, but supposedly he’s leaving her. That’s the only reason she came looking for me. She’s good at preying on my sympathy.”
Harper takes my wrist and laces our fingers together atop her leg. “You’ve been good at saving her. You said so yourself.”
“Not anymore. Honestly, she makes me sick to my stomach when I see her. She’s manipulative and selfish, and I don’t know what’s going to come out of her mouth next.”
My phone rings on the nightstand. I glance over, as does Harper. We both see the caller ID: Kayla. Unbelievable.
“She still calls you?”
“Rarely. She, uh, usually texts.”
Harper stands. “I need to go.”
I get to my feet. “Yeah, okay.” Fuck, it hurts to say that. But this situation is messed up, and maybe we both need a minute to ourselves. Harper isn’t Kayla, I know that. But the thing is, in some ways, Harper scares me more than Kayla ever did.
“You know you can block her number?” She finds a pair of shorts in her pile of clothes and pulls them on.
“I’ll do it now if you want.”
“It’s not a matter of what I want,” she says hastily. She changes out of my shirt and into one of hers, not bothering with a bra. “It’s what you want.”
Without a second thought, I grab her around the waist so we’re face-to-face. “I want you.” It’s staggering how much I suddenly want that. My head may have doubts, but my heart is telling me to hold on to this amazing girl and never let go.
She puts her hands on my shoulders. If she tells me she doesn’t want me, I’m calling bullshit. I see it and feel it whenever we’re together.
The silence hangs heavy between us.
I speak first. “I can’t promise you anything right now, Ham, but I don’t want to let you go, either.”
“I don’t know,” she murmurs, the words a life preserver. If she needs help and guidance to keep hanging out with me, I’m happy to give it.
“You want this, too. If you didn’t, you wouldn’t have stood up for me like you did.” She scrunches her nose. I kiss the tip.
“I said that to protect to you.”
“Because you like me.”
“I like having sex with you,” she fires back.
“Perfect. I feel the same, so let’s keep doing what we’re doing.” If she’s not ready to deal with the emotions that connect us, too, then we can keep it casual. I’m willing to do things her way until she feels differently. I can’t give up the calm she brings me. Can’t quit her like this, cold turkey. If she hadn’t been here this morning when Kayla showed up, I’d probably be on my third beer by now.
She breaks free of my hold to pace around the room.
I watch her. When we’re in the same room, I can’t take my eyes off her. “There’s just one thing…”
“What?”
“It has to stay exclusive. I want your body all to myself, Ham.”
Conflict plays in the depths of brown staring back at me. “So, I see you when I see you, and we only have sex with each other.”
“Yes.”
Seconds tick by. “Okay.”
I grin and pull her close for one more kiss to seal the deal.
But when she leaves a few minutes later with a “see you later” I wonder if I’ve made a huge mistake.