CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

COLTON

If there’s one thing Becketts are good at, it’s telling ourselves what to think. So I tell myself I don’t care about the rumors. I tell myself what Harper’s done with her own body is her business and hers alone. Who cares if she slept with a co-worker? She’s human, fallible.

Just like you.

The more I tell myself these things, the more they make sense until, finally, they are truth—steadfast and undeniable.

I pick up my cell and call Harper, surprised when she answers on the second ring. “Colton?”

It’s so good to hear her voice. “I want to see you.”

“Your place or mine?”

“Mine. I’ll text you the address.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

She hangs up and I’m not sure what to make of the call. Did I detect a hint of urgency there? Or was it concern? Something’s going on and I’d bet my left nut it’s got to do with her meddling motherfucker of an ex.

I don’t know what it is, but I sure as hell intend to find out.

*

Harper opens the door to her apartment wearing a crop top and leggings. I take it in. It’s a complete contrast to her usual, librarian ensemble. “You look… amazing, though I don’t think it’s exactly the Summer Games outside.”

She smiles, holding the door wide. “Come in, smartass.”

I do so happily, taking in the way the leggings wrap around the tight buns of her ass, the twin dimples at the base of her spine begging for my touch.

I spot the treadmill in the corner of the room and it suddenly makes sense. “Ah.”

She drinks from a glass on the kitchen bench, the area under her neck flushed. “I used to run with my dad, ever since I was seven or so. We’d go down to Mount Royal before the sun came up, run until we switch-backed to the summit. I hated it back then, but now I love it. So, I run because it helps clear my mind… That and I really, really love chocolate.”

I notice the framed poster on the wall reading ‘C7H8N402: The Chocolate Molecule. There are faux chocolate block cushions on the longue, a bright pink Easter bunny that should be well into hibernation by now. “Cute.”

“That I got from my mother.”

I take a seat on the back of the longue. “Everyone’s got a sweet tooth,” I let my eyes linger on her legs, “though everyone has their own way of satisfying it.”

I’m tossing over whether to tell her about James, our run-in, but I don’t want to ruin the mood.

Instead, I stand and approach her, because god knows I can’t take another second sitting here looking at dessert with my mouth open and my dick about to pop a hole in my pants.

She backs up against the kitchen counter.

My hands go out wide. “Hey, what’s the matter? Was it the sweet tooth line, because yeah, that was a little on the nose.”

She looks down, rubbing her arm. “Colton…”

“If you’re not feeling it, maybe I could—”

Her eyes meet mine, wet and large.

Enough.

I take hold of her hips and pull her forward, let her know how hard I am for her, how much every inch of my being wants to have her right now. I kiss her, but it’s not so much as returned as endured.

I hold her face. Clearly, this isn’t going to happen. “What’s going on inside there, baby? Are you over me already, because I’ve got enough tricks to last a lifetime, trust me.”

“I’m sorry, really. It’s not your fault.”

“Is it something to do with your ex?” I ask.

A single second and I know I’m right. “If that fucker…”

She grabs my arms. “Colton, it’s not about James.”

“He confronted me at the rink, you know, put on a bit of a chest-beating display.”

“He did?” Harper’s as surprised as I was.

“Oh, yeah. I nearly had to put him down for good the way he was talking about you, threatening you.”

Her grip tightens on my arm. “You cannot get physical with him.”

I can’t help but sound defensive. “Hey, he was disrespecting you, and me. You think I should stand for that, take it on the chin like the happy-go-lucky lad, I am? No, fuck that.”

“If you hit him, touch him, anything, the blowback is going to sweep us both up.”

“I heard rumors.” It’s out of my mouth before I’ve had a chance to think it through.

She lets go of my arms, walking away with her hands on her hips. “Rumors?”

“That you had a kid together, an abortion… Is that true?”

She’s close to tears when she faces me and it only makes me want to break her ex more, rip off his sad excuse for a dick and feed it to him for fucking breakfast for making her shed a single tear.

Harper shakes her head slowly. “No, there was no baby or anything, but…”

“But…?

“There was a pregnancy scare, of sorts. He pressured me to get an abortion, completely freaked, blabbing to one of his colleagues about it. I guess that’s how word got out.”

“I’m lost. You had the abortion?”

She wipes away a tear. “It turned out to be a cyst, can you believe it? But when I told him he acted like the whole thing was this big joke, completely gaslighted me. It was so awful. He made me feel horrible about it. Why I stayed with him after that I have no idea. I guess I wasn’t certain I deserved better, and now that I have it…” She drifts off.

I run forward and take hold of her again. “I’m here for you. You know that, right?”

She can’t stop the tears, letting them fall freely from her face, puffy and red. “I care for you, Colton. I do, but I don’t want you ruining your future over me.”

“What does that mean?” I’m genuinely unsure.

She avoids eye contact, sniffing back more tears. “It means… we have to think about this sort of thing, is all.”

I can’t separate my feelings. I’m angry, but I don’t know why.

She sees it. “Take off your shirt.”

“Harper, I don’t think sex is going to—”

“Take it off… Please.”

And I can’t deny her, taking it off and letting it drop to the floor.