Total pages in book: 46
Estimated words: 45063 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 225(@200wpm)___ 180(@250wpm)___ 150(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45063 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 225(@200wpm)___ 180(@250wpm)___ 150(@300wpm)
Michelle nods. “Thank you, Bryson. You’ve always been such a good boy.”
She wouldn’t say that if she knew the truth.
I purposefully don’t look at Harper as I lead them outside to my car. It’s a rental since I sold everything before moving to the West Coast.
It was part of the deal Adam and I made. He doesn’t do things in half measures.
I could’ve told him no. There was no way he could force me, but he’s my best friend. I have to remember that.
“Want to sit up front, Kurtis?” I say, probably with too much eagerness in my voice. The thought of Harper sitting up front, next to me, is too much to take.
It would be far too tempting to reach over and slide my hand up her leg, feeling the heat of her thighs as I get closer and closer to her sex, push down on her wetness, rub, rub…
I focus on the road, hating every time I have to glance in the rearview because I get an eyeful of my woman.
Not my woman. I’ve got to stop thinking like that. Adam’s little sister.
Kurtis gives me directions to a hotel in the city. We don’t say much as we drive, giving me plenty of time to realize my mistake.
“Is Harper staying at the same hotel?”
“No, Harper’s not,” she responds herself, using her own name as a weapon, like she’s pissed at me for referring to her in the third person. “I live with Tiffany.”
Her podcast partner. Right.
Why would she stay in a hotel when she lives here?
I’m dropping Kurtis and Michelle off first, which means Harper and I are going to be alone.
Fuck.
I try to think of how to get out of this short of ditching her on the side of the road and telling her to make her own way home.
“Thank you for this,” Kurtis says once I pull up outside the hotel.
Harper climbs out to hug her parents. I sit in the car, white-knuckling the hell out of the steering wheel, repeating to myself over and over that I’ll just give her a ride, nothing more.
I want to lean close, bring my lips to hers, and kiss her so passionately that messages will surge into her body.
Telling her to get ready to give me a baby, a life…
I won’t claim her, even if every single part of me wants to do just that.
CHAPTER THREE
Harper
“Are you cold?” he asks when I pull my jacket tighter around myself.
He focuses on the road, his jaw and temples still pulsing, his hands tight on the steering wheel like he’s going to break it.
“I’m okay,” I reply, wishing he’d look at me and knowing he can’t take his eyes off the road.
Even if he did look at me—instead of stubbornly anywhere else like he’s angry at me for having to give me a ride—what would I expect to see?
It will never be the lust, hunger, affection, or desire to be more than a boyfriend.
A life partner… a husband?
Obsessed doesn’t even come close. I need to throw water on this fire within, but it rages and rages.
“How are your driving lessons going?” he asks after a pause.
“Not bad. I had a small crash during driver’s ed, which freaked me out. I feel like a big baby, but I’m over it now. I’m learning and it feels rewarding.”
“That’s good,” he says. “I hope the crash wasn’t too bad.”
We’re speaking mechanically, forcing the words out because it’s the thing people do, talk. It’s not like he actually wants to speak with me.
I almost ask about the fight between him and Adam, wondering if I’ll get more answers from Bryson, but I don’t because I won’t. He and Adam are friends again now. He won’t betray Adam’s trust.
“I’m sure Adam would help you out if you asked,” Bryson comments as we drive into my neighborhood.
It’s not in the rough part of town, but it’s not in the good one either.
“He’s offered, but I told him I wanted to make it on my own like he did.”
After a pause, I say, “I know Dad gave him some starter cash, but he grew it into a wildly successful business. Dad gave me some starter cash too, and I want to do the same. With the podcast. Have you listened to it?”
I wish I could snatch that last part back.
The silence lengthens as the buildings get progressively less presentable around us. It’s not like I live in a graffiti-covered slum. I’m proud of what Tiffany and I can afford together.
“You probably haven’t,” I say quickly when he doesn’t reply.
“I don’t have much time for hobbies,” he says gruffly.
“I guess your new job keeps you pretty busy.”
“It does.”
“And your social life.”
When we come to a red light, he glances at me, blue flames in his eyes. Time seems to bend as he stares at me, as he holds me in place with his gaze, staring deeply, like the flickering of an obsession is beginning.