Stealing Harper
Page 28
She recoiled like I’d slapped her. “What? Then that puts us exactly where we’ve been the last three weeks; that doesn’t change anything.”
“It needs to be that way.” I turned away as I tried to force myself to say something to make her run. Let her go man, just let her go. The ache that instantly speared my chest halted my thoughts, and I turned to face my world again. “Sundays are the only day I get you. Those are the only days when you’re here with me.” She started to speak, but I stopped her, “No, I know you’re not here for me . . . but you’re here. And he’s not; I need these days with you, Harper. But every other day, you’re his, and it’s not a good idea for us to be around each other then. So stay away. Please.”
“Chase . . .”
“If you think acting like you don’t exist isn’t the hardest thing I’ve ever done, you’re wrong. I hate not talking to you, I hate not bickering like we’re an old married couple, and I hate not spending every day right next to you. But this is how it has to be. Brandon hates me, and, Princess, trust me when I say he has every reason to. So if after everything I’ve done to you, you’ll still even consider being my friend, then it has to be Sundays only.”
“Brandon won’t care if we’re friends.”
Ah, Princess, you are sassy and sweet as hell, but you aren’t dumb. “I know you’re not that naïve.” Mom and Bree walked out the front door, and I sighed, knowing the majority of my only day with her would be spent without her. “Now go have lunch with Mom and Bree, then get your ass back here so I can have my few stolen hours with you.”
“Chase?” she asked after walking a few feet toward the entryway, her back still to me.
“Yeah, Princess?”
She took a deep breath and looked over her shoulder, capturing my eyes with hers. “Will you please stop hurting me . . . in every way?”
Fuck. I can spend the rest of my life making up for everything I’ve done to her, and I still won’t forgive myself for the shit I’ve put her through. I walked quickly up to her and pulled her into a tight hug, trying to memorize the way she felt in my arms. I inhaled her vanilla scent and wished I could promise her that I would never do anything to hurt her again, but we both knew that would be a promise I could never keep, “Go eat, sweetheart.” I squeezed her tight before releasing her and turning to walk up the stairs.
Chapter Seven
“HI, HONEY! I wasn’t expecting to see you tonight. Aren’t your friends having a party?”
“Uh, yeah? Why wouldn’t you be expecting me? It’s New Year’s Eve.”
Mom’s eyes went wide, and she gave Dad a quick glance, “Well, you haven’t been around much. We only saw you for about an hour on Christmas . . .” She trailed off and looked at me for an excuse.
I didn’t have one; well, I did, but I didn’t feel like sharing with them. Brandon had taken my princess to Arizona for the first half of winter break. He’d taken her home. I knew he loved her, and I knew they were serious. But I wasn’t ready for them to be this serious. I’d spent every free moment surfing or at the tattoo parlor these last two weeks, so I could try to do anything but think of Harper. And as soon as Mom started crying on Christmas because Harper’s presents were still under the tree, I was gone. I already had to deal with the fact that they were gone and falling more in love with each other, and I didn’t need my family reminding me of that. But she was coming home tonight, thank God, and my sister had made her promise to be here for New Year’s. I’d have her for two weeks without Brandon, and I couldn’t wait.
Looking back up, I noticed that Mom and Dad were still waiting. I shrugged. “I’ve been busy, but I’m not anymore.”
They hugged some more people who walked in, and I did the polite hellos, but I didn’t care about everyone showing up tonight, just one.
“Are Bree and Harper back here yet?”
“I don’t even know if they’re coming here; I thought they were going to your house.”
My house. I didn’t want to spend New Year’s Eve with Harper and a bunch of wasted coeds. “I’ll text Harper. I don’t want them going to that party tonight.”
You gonna be at the house tonight?
“Chase, honey.”
“Hmm?”
“You know, she and Brandon are getting really serious, do you think . . . maybe?”
I looked up to my mom and cocked my head, “Maybe what, Ma?”
“Maybe you should stop waiting for her? What you’re doing to your friendship with Brandon, over a girl who’s in love with someone else—it isn’t worth it, honey.”
My phone vibrated, and I looked down, Princess: Nope, going to hang with the family.
Perfect. I smiled to myself and looked back up to my parents. “When it comes to that girl, Mom, nothing else matters. So no, I don’t think I should stop. Love you.” I kissed her cheek and went upstairs to find Harper’s present.
I grabbed the wrapped box that held the ring I’d passed walking to my truck a few weeks ago, and hoped like hell she’d accept it. Other than hearing her tell Mom and Bree about how much she loved orange lilies, this trinity symbol was the only thing I knew Harper loved. I didn’t know what it meant to her, but no matter where we were, if she had something to write with, it ended up somewhere. Napkin, paper, her wrist . . . anywhere. So finding a ring that entwined into a trinity symbol on top was the perfect gift for her. Or so I hoped.
“It needs to be that way.” I turned away as I tried to force myself to say something to make her run. Let her go man, just let her go. The ache that instantly speared my chest halted my thoughts, and I turned to face my world again. “Sundays are the only day I get you. Those are the only days when you’re here with me.” She started to speak, but I stopped her, “No, I know you’re not here for me . . . but you’re here. And he’s not; I need these days with you, Harper. But every other day, you’re his, and it’s not a good idea for us to be around each other then. So stay away. Please.”
“Chase . . .”
“If you think acting like you don’t exist isn’t the hardest thing I’ve ever done, you’re wrong. I hate not talking to you, I hate not bickering like we’re an old married couple, and I hate not spending every day right next to you. But this is how it has to be. Brandon hates me, and, Princess, trust me when I say he has every reason to. So if after everything I’ve done to you, you’ll still even consider being my friend, then it has to be Sundays only.”
“Brandon won’t care if we’re friends.”
Ah, Princess, you are sassy and sweet as hell, but you aren’t dumb. “I know you’re not that naïve.” Mom and Bree walked out the front door, and I sighed, knowing the majority of my only day with her would be spent without her. “Now go have lunch with Mom and Bree, then get your ass back here so I can have my few stolen hours with you.”
“Chase?” she asked after walking a few feet toward the entryway, her back still to me.
“Yeah, Princess?”
She took a deep breath and looked over her shoulder, capturing my eyes with hers. “Will you please stop hurting me . . . in every way?”
Fuck. I can spend the rest of my life making up for everything I’ve done to her, and I still won’t forgive myself for the shit I’ve put her through. I walked quickly up to her and pulled her into a tight hug, trying to memorize the way she felt in my arms. I inhaled her vanilla scent and wished I could promise her that I would never do anything to hurt her again, but we both knew that would be a promise I could never keep, “Go eat, sweetheart.” I squeezed her tight before releasing her and turning to walk up the stairs.
Chapter Seven
“HI, HONEY! I wasn’t expecting to see you tonight. Aren’t your friends having a party?”
“Uh, yeah? Why wouldn’t you be expecting me? It’s New Year’s Eve.”
Mom’s eyes went wide, and she gave Dad a quick glance, “Well, you haven’t been around much. We only saw you for about an hour on Christmas . . .” She trailed off and looked at me for an excuse.
I didn’t have one; well, I did, but I didn’t feel like sharing with them. Brandon had taken my princess to Arizona for the first half of winter break. He’d taken her home. I knew he loved her, and I knew they were serious. But I wasn’t ready for them to be this serious. I’d spent every free moment surfing or at the tattoo parlor these last two weeks, so I could try to do anything but think of Harper. And as soon as Mom started crying on Christmas because Harper’s presents were still under the tree, I was gone. I already had to deal with the fact that they were gone and falling more in love with each other, and I didn’t need my family reminding me of that. But she was coming home tonight, thank God, and my sister had made her promise to be here for New Year’s. I’d have her for two weeks without Brandon, and I couldn’t wait.
Looking back up, I noticed that Mom and Dad were still waiting. I shrugged. “I’ve been busy, but I’m not anymore.”
They hugged some more people who walked in, and I did the polite hellos, but I didn’t care about everyone showing up tonight, just one.
“Are Bree and Harper back here yet?”
“I don’t even know if they’re coming here; I thought they were going to your house.”
My house. I didn’t want to spend New Year’s Eve with Harper and a bunch of wasted coeds. “I’ll text Harper. I don’t want them going to that party tonight.”
You gonna be at the house tonight?
“Chase, honey.”
“Hmm?”
“You know, she and Brandon are getting really serious, do you think . . . maybe?”
I looked up to my mom and cocked my head, “Maybe what, Ma?”
“Maybe you should stop waiting for her? What you’re doing to your friendship with Brandon, over a girl who’s in love with someone else—it isn’t worth it, honey.”
My phone vibrated, and I looked down, Princess: Nope, going to hang with the family.
Perfect. I smiled to myself and looked back up to my parents. “When it comes to that girl, Mom, nothing else matters. So no, I don’t think I should stop. Love you.” I kissed her cheek and went upstairs to find Harper’s present.
I grabbed the wrapped box that held the ring I’d passed walking to my truck a few weeks ago, and hoped like hell she’d accept it. Other than hearing her tell Mom and Bree about how much she loved orange lilies, this trinity symbol was the only thing I knew Harper loved. I didn’t know what it meant to her, but no matter where we were, if she had something to write with, it ended up somewhere. Napkin, paper, her wrist . . . anywhere. So finding a ring that entwined into a trinity symbol on top was the perfect gift for her. Or so I hoped.
