Harlow

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“Good morning.” I look up from the register and smile when Miles walks into the shop.

It’s been two days since I’ve seen him. Two days since our unexpected and yet very welcome kiss. Two days and I swear my lips still tingle every time I think of him. Which is a lot. As in all the time. As in nearly every second of the last two days.

“Morning,” he grumbles, barely meeting my gaze as he slides past the counter and heads toward the back.

An instant knot forms in the pit of my stomach.

I gather all the receipts from yesterday’s transactions and quickly follow after him, wanting to talk to him about a program I read about that will make tracking purchases a lot easier than the one he uses now. It’s mainly for my benefit, but it will make keeping track of tips simpler for the artists as well.

When I enter the back room, he’s in the office, his back to me as he shuffles through one of the filing cabinets.

“Something I can help you find?” I ask, hesitantly entering the office.

“Chuck needs a copy of his W2 form from last year,” he says, his back to me.

“Here.” I dip into the office and kneel down in front of the small locked cabinet next to the desk. Grabbing the key out of the top drawer of the desk, I quickly unlock it and retrieve Chuck’s file. I rummage through it for a quick moment, locating the form pretty quickly given how organized the files are now. Everything is in order with a small table of contents posted on the inside of the folder so anyone can locate what they need in an instant.

“2017, correct?” I look up to find Miles standing next to me.

“Yeah.” He nods.

“Let me make you a copy.” I quickly stand and cross to the printer on the far side of the room.

“Thanks.” I hear Miles shuffle his feet, but I don’t turn around to verify that’s what he’s doing.

There’s this weird energy in the air. An awkwardness that up to this point hasn’t existed between us. It’s more than enough to put me on edge, especially after what happened the last time we were together.

Once the copy prints, I take it and the original and head back toward the desk, stopping next to Miles.

“Here ya go.” I extend the copy to him. “When you have time I really should go through all this with you,” I advise, kneeling back down to replace Chuck’s file in its original order before closing the cabinet and locking it. “That way if I’m not here and you need anything you won’t have to rummage the entire office to find it.”

“Yeah, that’s probably a good idea,” he says, once again barely meeting my gaze when I stand and face him.

“Is everything okay?” I ask, not able to ignore how off he seems this morning.

“Yeah, everything’s fine. Just have a lot on my plate today. Need to get some shit done before my one o’clock appointment gets here.”

Sensing that’s not entirely the truth, I bite back the urge to question the real reason he’s acting strangely. Now is not the time or the place to have this conversation. Then again, it wasn’t really the time or place for him to kiss me when he did, but that sure as hell didn’t stop him. Not that I’m complaining. That kiss will go down as the hottest I’ve ever experienced in my life.

I’ve never had someone kiss me like that. It was like he was suffocating and my mouth was his oxygen. There was so much need. An almost desperation between us. It did something to me that even now I’m not sure I fully understand.

“You sure that’s it?” I ask hesitantly, wanting him to know he can tell me, no matter what it is.

“What else would it be?” he clips, his words slicing through me.

I take a step back, trying my damnedest to hide the hurt on my face.

“Okay, well I won’t keep you then.” I nod once before quickly exiting the office.

——

After how closed off Miles was this morning, I made a point to avoid him as much as I could throughout the day.

He left for a little while, showing back up about twenty minutes before his first appointment. Again, he barely looked at me, and by that point, I knew something was up. And not just because he was busy or whatever lame excuse he gave me. No, something was up.

By the end of my shift, I have zero doubt that Miles' behavior toward me is because of the kiss. It has to be. I spent all day trying to convince myself otherwise, but at this point, there’s really no sense in denying it any longer. We’ve spent nearly every day of the last couple of weeks together, and he’s never once treated me this way. It’s like he’s put up a wall between us. A wall so tall I can’t even attempt to look over it.

“Hey, freckles.” I look up to see Tubbs just as he enters the office.

“Freckles?” I question, hoisting my purse over my shoulder as I prepare to leave for the day.

“It’s my new nickname for you,” he informs me, a smile playing on his lips.

“And why is that?”

“Because you have the cutest fucking freckles,” he says, quickly closing the distance between us. “Here.” He gently traces his finger down my nose. “And here.” His finger slides to where my freckles extend to my cheeks.

“I can’t believe you noticed.” I hold my hand to my chest, my tone full of sarcasm. My freckles are pretty easy to spot, even if you’re not paying attention.

“You don’t have to be an asshole about it.” He laughs, pulling his hand away.

“Telling a girl she has cute freckles is like telling her she has pretty eyes. Unoriginal and overplayed.” I tap his chest, smiling widely as I slide past him and out of the office.

“You wound me, freckles,” he calls after me, laughter in his voice.

“And you insult me,” I call back, turning just enough to offer him a small wave before heading out into the main area of the shop.

“Hey, where do you think you’re going?” It’s only seconds before Tubbs catches up to me, following me toward the lobby.

I completely ignore him, though it does little to deter him.

“See ya, Bryan.” I wave to the only other artist I pass on my way out.

“Have a good night, Harlow.”

“You too.”

“Hey, hold up.” Tubbs’ hand lands on my shoulder right as I reach the front door.

“Can I help you?” I play annoyed as I spin to face him.

“What’s your hurry?” he asks, his dark eyes locked on mine.

“It’s been a long day,” I say truthfully. “I’m ready for a glass of wine and a hot bubble bath.”

“You know, I have a huge bathtub in my apartment.” His grin widens and try as I may I can’t help myself from smiling in return.

“That’s awesome. Take a lot of bubble baths, do you?” I tease.

“I’m just saying if you ever want to come over and use it...” He rocks back on his heels.

“Wow.” I laugh, shaking my head at him. “Does that actually work on women?” I ask, calling out his game, or lack thereof.

“I don’t know. I’ve never used that one before.” He chuckles.

“And yet somehow I find that hard to believe.” I reach out and pat his chest. “Goodnight, Tubbs.”

“How about a drink then?”

“Going home now,” I say as if I’m announcing it to a room rather than speaking directly to him.

“That’s okay. I’m a patient man.” He laughs. “If that’s how you want to play it.”

“I’m not playing anything,” I tell him. “And technically I’m still married, so maybe you shouldn’t exhaust your efforts on someone who’s unavailable.”

This seems to be a theme with Tubbs that’s formed over the last couple of weeks. He flirts, tries to convince me to go out with him, and I blow him off with some excuse as to why I can’t. It’s always been in a joking manner, but as of recently, I’m starting to think maybe he really is interested.

I could totally see myself being into someone like him. He’s funny, attractive, wildly talented, and makes me laugh, which to me is more important than anything else. Unfortunately, I can’t seem to shake the thought of Miles long enough to entertain the idea really. Not that I’m anywhere close to ready to jump back into a relationship.

I think that now, but deep down I know that if Miles came to me tomorrow and said he wanted to see where this crazy chemistry of ours will go, I’d jump at the chance.

“Ouch. You’re really killing my self-esteem here, freckles.” Tubbs’ comment cuts into my thoughts, pulling me back to the conversation.

“I think your self-esteem is doing just fine.” I shove playfully at his arm.

“Good to see you two are cozying up to one another.” My stomach instantly drops at the sound of Miles’ voice.

Tubbs and I turn our heads in unison to find him standing in the doorway of the lobby watching us, his expression hard.

“I’m trying.” Tubbs laughs. “She’s not making it easy.”

“Don’t you have fucking work to do?” Miles clips, completely shifting the mood in the room.

“My next appointment doesn’t come in for another thirty,” he explains. “What the fuck has crawled up your ass today?”

I turn wide eyes on Tubbs who seems completely at ease as if talking to your boss in such a way is an everyday occurrence.

“Maybe I’m sick of seeing you try to tag the new girl. Need I remind you that Harlow is off limits.” He takes a commanding step toward us.

“Harlow is off limits when she says she is,” Tubbs counters, throwing me a wink.

The entire interaction completely dumfounds me, and yet, , like a train wreck, I can’t seem to look away.

“You really don’t value your job much, do you?” Miles taps his booted foot against the floor.

“Shut up. You’re not going to fire me.”

“You sure about that?” Miles challenges. “Perhaps you want to keep it up and find out. I promised her brother I’d look out for her.” He gestures to me without once looking in my direction. “That includes keeping asshats like you from trying to get her into bed.”

“Good to know you think so little of me.” For the first time Tubbs shows signs of irritation. “For the record, you’re worse than all of us. So remember that next time you try to play the knight in shining armor,” he bites before turning his gaze to me, his expression instantly softening. “I’ll see you later, freckles.” He winks and quickly takes off through the lobby, jamming his shoulder into Miles’ as he passes him.

“Would you care to explain to me what the hell that was?” I ask as soon as Tubbs is out of earshot.

“Tubbs is a whore. Trust me. I did you a favor.” He crosses his arms in front of his chest.

“Newsflash, I’m a big girl. I don’t need you doing me any favors. I can take care of myself.”

“Clearly.” He rolls his eyes and anger instantly boils inside of me.

“What the hell is your problem today?” I throw my hands up in frustration.

“I don’t have a problem.”

“Really? Is that why you kissed me two days ago, but now you can barely look at me? I hate to tell you, but you clearly have a problem, and whatever it is, you can leave me the hell out of it.” With that, I spin on my heel and shove through the front door, the warm evening air doing nothing to clear my clouded brain.

“Harlow, wait.” Miles follows me outside, grabbing my forearm to stop me from walking any further.

“Get off of me.” I quickly jerk out of his hold and pivot to face him.

“I’m sorry.” He takes a step back and holds both hands up.

“Sorry for what? For embarrassing me in front of my co-worker? For treating me like a child? Or are you sorry for something else, Miles?” Angry tears sting the back of my eyes.

“Harlow.” My name comes out on a slow breath, and his shoulders instantly sag.

“What, Miles? What is it? What did I do?”

“You didn’t do anything. It isn’t you.”

“Oh god, here we go. It’s not you; it’s me. Is that it?” An angry laugh bubbles in my chest.

“It is me,” he insists, his voice going soft.

“We kissed, Miles. That’s it. It doesn’t have to mean anything. All you had to say was it was a mistake and move on. Instead, you’ve spent the entire day avoiding me.”

“It was a mistake.” I pull back like he’s just smacked me right across the face. Sensing my reaction he quickly moves to explain. “I mean, it was, but it wasn’t. I don’t regret kissing you. I haven’t been able to think about anything but kissing you again since it happened. But I’m not good for you, Harlow. Hell, I’m not good for anyone. I refuse to make you believe I can give you something that I can’t. I think it’d be better if we keep things professional going forward.”

“Professional?” I bark out a laugh. “For the record, I get to decide what’s good for me and what’s not. Not you. I’ve spent the last ten years allowing a man to dictate my life. I won’t do that again.”

“I’m not trying to dictate your life.”

“It sure as hell seems like it from where I stand.”

“Harlow.”

“Don’t.” I hold up my hand when he moves to take a step toward me. “You say you want to keep things professional, then fine. That’s exactly what we’ll do. I’ll see you tomorrow, Mr. Hollins.”

I move to turn but freeze mid-motion when he lets out a frustrated growl and looks up to the sky, his fingers threading through his messy locks. It’s like he’s fighting an internal battle and I’m here, bearing witness to the whole thing.

“I can’t fucking do this,” he says more to himself than to me.

“Can’t do what?” I ask, his gaze moving back to me.

“I can’t fucking look at you, and not want to kiss you. I can’t be around you and not think about touching you. I can’t stand here with you without wanting to drag you back to my apartment and bury myself deep inside you.”

“Then why don’t you?”

“Because you’re Harlow.”

“And?”

“You’re Winston’s sister. He’d never forgive me for hurting you.”

“Why are you so convinced you’re going to hurt me?”

“Because I will,” he tells me, his gaze locked on mine.

“Well, that’s a chance I’m willing to take.” Without a thought, I take one step toward Miles, wrap my hand around the back of his neck, and pull his face down to mine.

He doesn’t fight me, doesn’t for one-second attempt to stop me. Our lips meet and in an instant everything else fades away.