Chapter Twenty-Five
Levi
I throw my phone at the wall, only for it to be caught one-handed by Elliot when he enters the room. “Aw, still no text or call back?” he says in a tenderhearted tone that pisses me the fuck off. It’s his new strategy to get me over Harper. He knows I hate the baby talk.
“No,” I grumble from the couch.
He takes a seat across from me and tosses the phone. I let it land in my lap. Fucking piece of technology. What good is it if the girl I love won’t communicate with me?
It’s Saturday morning. She’s ignored me for the past three weeks. I take that back. She sent me one text after I practically begged her to meet me: I can’t.
I know why she can’t. Because she’s a chickenshit. A beautiful, gorgeous, smart, funny, amazing chickenshit. She thinks because I had an accident in the water she can’t be with me. I get that she’s afraid. I do. But is drowning in loneliness and fear any way to live a life?
“We’re going out tonight,” Elliot says.
“I don’t want to.”
“Too bad. We’re meeting some people at Boardners.” He picks up the remote for the TV and flips the channel from Animal Planet to a college football game.
“Some people?”
“Mateo, Teague, Madison…”
The way he says Madison’s name raises my suspicion. “Madison? Why?” She’s tight with Mateo, so we’ve known her for years, but she doesn’t usually do the bar scene with us.
“She likes you.”
I choke. “Sorry?”
“You heard me. I’m making it happen.”
“Nothing is happening with Madison and me.” She’s nice. Pretty. But I’m not giving up on Harper.
Elliot rubs his chin. “I didn’t want to tell you this, but I saw Harper with some other guy.”
My stomach sinks. “What? Where?”
“Last weekend at Donahue’s. They looked pretty cozy sitting in a booth.”
Donahue’s is the restaurant where Colleen’s rehearsal dinner was held, and I think there’s a family connection there. “What did he look like?”
“I don’t know. Dark hair, business suit. I heard the bartender call him Landon when he grabbed a couple of beers to take back to the table.”
I laugh, and my stomach resumes its normal position. “That’s her brother, you ass.”
“Really?” He pulls a face.
“Yeah. He’s helping her with her foundation. He’s an attorney.” A foundation I sent a donation to with congratulatory flowers and from which I received a very nice thank-you letter in return. Yeah, it was a standard reply, but Harper signed it.
“It’s still a good idea for you to see Madison.”
I study my best friend. He’s full of shit. Madison is friendly with Harper, and a nice person. She might like me, but there’s a girl code I don’t see her breaking, unless Harper threw me at her. I rub the back of my neck. Shit. Is Harper in on this, too? Is this her way of saying she’s not good enough, but Madison is?
No. I refuse to believe it.
“Why?” I say. “Even if I were over Harper, Madison is a friend, nothing else. She’s also friends with Harper, you know.”
“Oh yeah. Shit. There went that idea. Well, there will be other girls there, too.”
I scratch the side of my head. The mere thought of going to a bar to meet girls makes me uncomfortable.
“Look, you’ve been holed up in the house for weeks. You’re leaving next week for Australia. Don’t make me get sappy and tell you how much I’m going to miss your ugly face in order to get you to come out tonight.”
He’s got a point. We haven’t hung out except for at home, and I’ve been shit for company 99 percent of that time. “Fine.”
“Good.”
He reaches for the PS4 controller. “Call of Duty?”
“Sure.”
We play for a couple of hours, but it doesn’t take a genius to guess where my mind is. Am I an idiot for sulking around, waiting for Harper to…to what? Continue to keep me guessing about our relationship?
I’m out of my goddamn mind if I keep pining away for her. I don’t need drama like this. I had enough of it with Kayla. There are plenty of other girls out there, and Harper’s silence makes it clear she’s done with me, so it’s time I move on.
Only I can’t. I can’t get her out of my head. Or my heart. If I can get over my past, she can get over hers. We need to talk like two mature adults and work this out together. If she needs outside help, we’ll get it. We. I’m ready to be all-in.
I tell Elliot I’ve got an errand to run and drive straight to Harper’s.
Confession. This is the third time I’ve driven to her house since I had my concussion. The first time she wasn’t home. The second time, I swear she stood on the inside of her door and held her breath until I left. I pictured her palm on the other side of the wood, lined up perfectly with mine. I talked through the inches separating us, telling her I missed her. I asked her to please call me. She didn’t.
I park my car, then let myself into the backyard through the side gate. The yard is quiet, but there’s a wrinkled towel on one of the lounge chairs by the pool and an open magazine on the wood-slatted table beside it. I can’t help myself. I detour to take a peek. It’s Cosmo. We read it cover to cover together in Big Bear. Laughed. Kissed. Tried some crazy position. (No anal, in case you were wondering.) Made love. I’m smiling for the first time in a while when I knock on her door.
She doesn’t answer. I knock again. This time when I get no response, I glance down at the doorknob. It’s worth a try. I turn the handle. The door opens.
“Hello? Harper?” In deference to her silent treatment, I’ve only got one foot inside the door. The house is quiet. She isn’t here.
My body deflates.
When I get back to my car, I shoot off a text. Stopped by to see you. I’d really like to talk. If that doesn’t sound good, how about I buy you a drink? I’ll be at Boardners tonight. Meet me there. 9PM. I’ll be the guy with eyes only for you.
I tell myself not to get my hopes up.
On the drive home, it occurs to me that I caught sight of something in my periphery when I rounded the pool to leave. I didn’t think anything of it, but the flash of red came from the direction of the large windows of the main house. Harper had been home. Well, in her aunt’s home. Had she seen me?
Fuck. I squeeze the steering wheel so tight my knuckles turn white. That’s it. This is her last chance. I’ve got my pride, too, and if she doesn’t meet me tonight, then I’m done trying. I’m off to Australia in six days, anyway.