Stealing Harper
Page 37
She smiled wide and sat up to kiss me hard, catching me off guard and causing both of us to laugh before deepening the kiss. She pushed on my shoulder, and I fell to my back, keeping my hands on her naked body as she climbed on top of me and arched her body against mine. I moaned and grabbed her hips to press us closer together as she ground her hips onto me again. I was making a trail down to her breast when the loudest growl came from my princess. And that shit had nothing to do with how we were currently attacking each other. We both burst out laughing as she fell onto my chest, her hair falling in front of her face as her shoulders shook from laughter. Guess my girl was hungry.
“Is there any way you didn’t hear that?”
“Not a chance.” I moved the hair away from her face and kissed her hard before moving her off me and onto the bed, “I’ll go make breakfast; I’ll be right back.”
“Okay, I’ll come help.”
No you won’t. You just gave me you, I’m about to spoil the shit out of you. “Let me do this for you, Princess,” I said softly as I pushed her back onto the pillows and kissed her jaw. “Stay here, I want to see you just like this when I get back.”
She saluted me before curling up in my comforter. Smart-ass.
I got out of bed and started looking for our pile of clothes when I heard her gasp. I whirled around to see her stormy gray eyes even wider than usual. “What’s wrong?”
“Chase”—she blinked a few times and shook her head slightly as she looked back up into my eyes—“you’re beautiful.”
“Beautiful, huh?” I’m pretty sure what I was staring at just then was the only thing that I’d ever seen that could be described as beautiful. I climbed back onto the bed and crawled over her, kissing her softly, and whispering against her lips, “Trying to take away my masculinity, baby?”
“So sorry,” she said between kisses. “I meant. Rugged. And handsome. And so, so sexy.”
I laughed and kissed her cheek before getting back off the bed. God, she was cute. I grabbed my jeans and pulled them on, looked at her staring at me while lying in my bed one more time, then went to make breakfast for my princess.
I hadn’t even made it down the stairs when I heard her phone ringing. By the time I made it to the couch where she’d been when I came in last night, it had stopped, and I couldn’t find it. Walking into the kitchen, I started the bacon and turned on the coffeepot as her phone dinged a few times. Just as I’d finished whisking together the eggs and milk to make an omelet, it began ringing again. I jogged into the living room and dug around the couch, finally finding it in the blanket.
Brandon.
I took a deep breath as I watched her lock screen come back up displaying eleven missed calls, four voice mails, and eight texts from Bree, and six missed calls, five voice mails, and ten texts from Brandon. Her phone dinged again—and there’s voice mail number six from him. I ran back into the kitchen to take the bacon off the skillet, and, swear to God, he called again before I could finish. I wanted to delete all of them but knew I couldn’t. I just didn’t know what this would do to us. New Year’s Eve and the tattoo parlor flashed through my mind, but I pushed those images away. Last night wouldn’t have happened if she didn’t want to be with me. She told me she loved me, and I had no doubt she did.
We’d just have to deal with this, and the sooner, the better.
I grabbed the phone and ran up the stairs and to my room, taking another deep breath before opening the door and praying to God that when she broke the news to Brandon, he didn’t somehow suck her into staying with him. Her eyes lit up, and the sweetest smile you’ve ever seen crossed her face momentarily before falling when she saw whatever expression I currently had.
“You might want to answer that when he calls again.” I dropped the phone next to her and tried to give her a reassuring smile, but it felt like more of a grimace as I turned around and went back out the door to finish cooking. As I was passing the entryway I felt my pocket vibrate and grabbed my phone to find five calls from Breanna, two from Brandon, and twenty-two texts from both of them begging me to check on Harper because she hadn’t picked up her phone and was sick and alone. The most recent from Bree was saying everyone was going to leave LA in a couple hours. Fucking awesome.
When I got back upstairs with the food, Harper had the comforter over her head, and I almost wished she would put it back over when she pulled it down. That crushed look was in her eyes again, and though I knew this would be hard for her since it wasn’t a secret she was in love with my best friend, that look was terrifying me. I put the plates between us and ate silently as I watched her holding a piece of bacon and staring at the covers. Almost ten minutes of her in that exact position, and I was about ready to beg her to reassure me that we would be okay. I felt like such a girl, but I had one of those ominous feelings in my gut, like this wasn’t about to go my way.
I placed my hand on her back and rubbed small circles against it as I finally begged her to say something.
“Brandon will be back in a couple hours.”
“Shit.” I fell back against the headboard and rubbed my palms down my face, I didn’t want to deal with Bree and everyone’s being home; but I really didn’t want to have him here yet. “I thought he wouldn’t be back ’til tomorrow night.”
“He got scared when I didn’t answer the phone. Bree told him I was sick and alone, and since no one could get ahold of me . . .”
“Is there any way you didn’t hear that?”
“Not a chance.” I moved the hair away from her face and kissed her hard before moving her off me and onto the bed, “I’ll go make breakfast; I’ll be right back.”
“Okay, I’ll come help.”
No you won’t. You just gave me you, I’m about to spoil the shit out of you. “Let me do this for you, Princess,” I said softly as I pushed her back onto the pillows and kissed her jaw. “Stay here, I want to see you just like this when I get back.”
She saluted me before curling up in my comforter. Smart-ass.
I got out of bed and started looking for our pile of clothes when I heard her gasp. I whirled around to see her stormy gray eyes even wider than usual. “What’s wrong?”
“Chase”—she blinked a few times and shook her head slightly as she looked back up into my eyes—“you’re beautiful.”
“Beautiful, huh?” I’m pretty sure what I was staring at just then was the only thing that I’d ever seen that could be described as beautiful. I climbed back onto the bed and crawled over her, kissing her softly, and whispering against her lips, “Trying to take away my masculinity, baby?”
“So sorry,” she said between kisses. “I meant. Rugged. And handsome. And so, so sexy.”
I laughed and kissed her cheek before getting back off the bed. God, she was cute. I grabbed my jeans and pulled them on, looked at her staring at me while lying in my bed one more time, then went to make breakfast for my princess.
I hadn’t even made it down the stairs when I heard her phone ringing. By the time I made it to the couch where she’d been when I came in last night, it had stopped, and I couldn’t find it. Walking into the kitchen, I started the bacon and turned on the coffeepot as her phone dinged a few times. Just as I’d finished whisking together the eggs and milk to make an omelet, it began ringing again. I jogged into the living room and dug around the couch, finally finding it in the blanket.
Brandon.
I took a deep breath as I watched her lock screen come back up displaying eleven missed calls, four voice mails, and eight texts from Bree, and six missed calls, five voice mails, and ten texts from Brandon. Her phone dinged again—and there’s voice mail number six from him. I ran back into the kitchen to take the bacon off the skillet, and, swear to God, he called again before I could finish. I wanted to delete all of them but knew I couldn’t. I just didn’t know what this would do to us. New Year’s Eve and the tattoo parlor flashed through my mind, but I pushed those images away. Last night wouldn’t have happened if she didn’t want to be with me. She told me she loved me, and I had no doubt she did.
We’d just have to deal with this, and the sooner, the better.
I grabbed the phone and ran up the stairs and to my room, taking another deep breath before opening the door and praying to God that when she broke the news to Brandon, he didn’t somehow suck her into staying with him. Her eyes lit up, and the sweetest smile you’ve ever seen crossed her face momentarily before falling when she saw whatever expression I currently had.
“You might want to answer that when he calls again.” I dropped the phone next to her and tried to give her a reassuring smile, but it felt like more of a grimace as I turned around and went back out the door to finish cooking. As I was passing the entryway I felt my pocket vibrate and grabbed my phone to find five calls from Breanna, two from Brandon, and twenty-two texts from both of them begging me to check on Harper because she hadn’t picked up her phone and was sick and alone. The most recent from Bree was saying everyone was going to leave LA in a couple hours. Fucking awesome.
When I got back upstairs with the food, Harper had the comforter over her head, and I almost wished she would put it back over when she pulled it down. That crushed look was in her eyes again, and though I knew this would be hard for her since it wasn’t a secret she was in love with my best friend, that look was terrifying me. I put the plates between us and ate silently as I watched her holding a piece of bacon and staring at the covers. Almost ten minutes of her in that exact position, and I was about ready to beg her to reassure me that we would be okay. I felt like such a girl, but I had one of those ominous feelings in my gut, like this wasn’t about to go my way.
I placed my hand on her back and rubbed small circles against it as I finally begged her to say something.
“Brandon will be back in a couple hours.”
“Shit.” I fell back against the headboard and rubbed my palms down my face, I didn’t want to deal with Bree and everyone’s being home; but I really didn’t want to have him here yet. “I thought he wouldn’t be back ’til tomorrow night.”
“He got scared when I didn’t answer the phone. Bree told him I was sick and alone, and since no one could get ahold of me . . .”
