We watched as she clearly ripped into him, and I couldn’t help but smile. She really was something else. Brandon laughed, and whispered softly, “That’s my girl.”
Right. His. Because I’d messed up, like Brad said. With a heavy sigh, I turned and went back to sit on the blanket and attempted to ignore Harper, Clown, and Brandon for the rest of the afternoon. I wanted to punch Brandon in the face when he invited him over to the party that night. But hell, I’d be at work, and, anyone was invited. So I gritted my teeth and kept quiet until I finally left.
“MOM, DAD—I’M HERE, so stop having sex.”
“That was earlier.” Mom laughed as she leaned around the kitchen to look past the bar.
“Ugh, Ma, seriously? I was joking, I don’t wanna know about that.”
“Well! You asked for it.”
I gagged and took a seat at the bar. “So what’s on the agenda for today?”
“Just hanging out.” She shrugged. “How are you? You sure have been spending a lot of nights here, which is weird and all because you know, I could have sworn you had your own house.”
“If you don’t want me here, I won’t—”
“Oh hush, Chase, you know we want you here. But it’s odd, don’t you think? You have this massive house, and yet you’re sleeping here most nights? What’s going on, baby boy?”
I bit on the inside of my cheek and drummed impatiently on the marble countertop. “Well, uh . . . Harper?”
Mom’s eyes got wide, but she stayed silent, even holding up a finger when my dad walked in so he wouldn’t speak.
“She’s dating Brandon.”
“Huh, well good for her. Brandon’s such a darling boy; he’ll be good to her.”
My hands stopped drumming, and I held them out, “What? No. I mean—yeah, he will. But that’s not a good thing!”
“You know what else I could’ve sworn?” she asked as she grabbed some cups from the cupboard. “You saying she was just another girl.”
“Because she— well now . . . the point is, she’s not.”
Mom squealed and clapped after putting the cups down, “I knew it! So why didn’t you do anything about it?”
“I don’t know. Because I’m an idiot? I thought she’d be better off without me, I still do, but I basically handed her over to him. And now they’re together, and I’m kicking myself every day. I swear if I have to watch them walk into his bedroom one more time, I’m going to throw him out.”
“No you won’t.”
“I know I won’t, but I want to.”
“So fight for her.” Dad shrugged. “You’re never going to get her if she doesn’t know you want her.”
“It’s useless; she thinks I just want to get her out of my system.”
“Well maybe if you just—”
“Mom, I already told her. I told her I knew I’d never meet another girl like her, and at the same time I told her she needed to find someone who deserved her, and that it wasn’t me. I’m telling you, I already screwed myself over with her.”
“That’s it then? You just give up?” Dad asked.
“No, I don’t know what I’m gonna do; I just know that I want her.”
“Want who?” Bree asked, and I turned to see her and my princess, who looked slightly uncomfortable and whose cheeks were turning red as she looked at me.
That girl, right there. I want her. More than anything. “More like a what, I’m starving, and Mom wasn’t going to make breakfast until you got here. ’Bout time you showed up.”
“Oh, Harper, honey! It’s so good to have you back here!” Mom rounded the corner and pulled her into a big hug. Harper’s arms hung limp at her sides for a few seconds before awkwardly going around Mom’s waist.
“I hope it’s okay that I’m here. Bree said it’s family day, so I wasn’t going to come, but she didn’t really give me an option.”
Thank God for that.
“Of course it’s okay! You’re always welcome, especially on family day.” Mom winked at me, and I rolled my eyes. “Bree, honey, I need your help in the kitchen though . . . alone.”
Wow, Mom. Subtle. Harper looked worried, and I wanted to tell my mom she’d just made it worse rather than helping like she’d thought. But then Harper came to stand right next to me, and I couldn’t be annoyed with Mom anymore.
“Chase, maybe I shouldn’t be here.”
“Trust me, she wants you here. Her pulling Bree in there has nothing to do with Bree’s bringing you, I promise.”
She worried her bottom lip and shifted her weight a few times before looking up at me from under those impossibly long lashes, “Is it okay with you that I’m here?”
I hopped off the barstool and pulled her close to me, and she swayed into my chest. “It’s more than okay, Princess.” I leaned down to whisper in her ear and felt her shiver against me. “I’ll always want you here with me.”
Harper inhaled sharply, and her hands flew up to my stomach to push me back, but I held her close. “Chase, please. I need you”—her head dropped so that her forehead was resting against my chest to look at her hands, which were now curling against my abs—“um, I need you to uh, please . . . just let go of me.”
“One day, Princess,”—please God let me be right about this—“one day.” I released her and sat back on the barstool. She took a few calming breaths and gave me one more glance before sitting on a barstool two down from me.