Chapter 2
Harper
Wednesday night arrives faster than I am ready for.
I light the last candle on the terrace of my apartment and step back to look at everything.
String lights crisscross overhead, casting a warm glow over the mismatched patio furniture I’ve spent the last hour arranging.
The fire pit crackles in the center, flames dancing against the cool March evening.
And the s’mores station—complete with three types of chocolate, giant marshmallows, and graham crackers arranged in a wicker basket—sits on the table like a Pinterest board come to life.
A chalkboard sign leans against the railing:
S’MORE OF JESUS LESS OF ME
Okay, so maybe I went a little overboard. But if we’re going to do a Bible study, we might as well have a theme.
I adjust the sign one more time, then step back to admire my work. The clipboard in my hand holds tonight’s itinerary—color-coded, of course—with time slots for fellowship, s’mores making, icebreaker questions, and finally, the actual Bible study portion.
“Harper, this is amazing!”
I turn to see Ivy stepping onto the terrace, Gray trailing behind her with an amused smile. She’s carrying a bowl of what looks like fruit salad, and Gray’s got a cooler that probably holds enough drinks to hydrate a small army.
“You think so?” I can’t help the grin spreading across my face. “I wanted it to feel...intentional. You know, like we’re creating space for community.”
“Mission accomplished,” Ivy says, setting the bowl on the snack table. “So…have you asked Micah yet?”
“No, not yet, I’ve been too busy.”
“Don’t wait too long; the gala is just over two weeks away.”
“Ugh,” I pick up a stack of napkins that absolutely do not need rearranging and start rearranging them. “Don’t remind me.”
Gray sets down the cooler, perfect timing to change the subject, and glances at the chalkboard. “S’more of Jesus. Nice.”
“Thank you.” I gesture to the fire pit. “I figured if we’re going to study the Word, we might as well enjoy it. Faith doesn’t have to be boring.”
“It definitely won’t be boring with you in charge,” Gray says, and I’m pretty sure that’s a compliment.
People trickle in over the next fifteen minutes, and I let the hosting instincts take over—pointing people toward the snack table, making introductions, keeping my hands busy so I stop thinking about the fact that I still need to ask Micah to be my fake date.
The Bible study started back in January.
Gray and Ivy had floated the idea on New Year’s Eve, and by the second week of the month they’d pulled together maybe eight people around their kitchen table.
No agenda, just open Bibles and honest conversation and whatever snacks someone remembered to bring.
Then twelve people showed up the following week. Then sixteen.
Now it rotates—someone different opens their home each Wednesday, and every time we think the group has settled, a few more faces appear. I love that I get to host tonight. I love that this exists at all.
I’m refilling the drink station when Ivy sidles up beside me, her voice low. “Did you invite Olivia?”
“I texted her.” I sigh.
“And?”
“She never responded.”
Ivy’s expression softens, that look she gets when she’s trying not to show how worried she is. “She’ll come around. She just needs time.”
“I know.” I force a smile. “She always does.”
But I’m not sure anymore. Olivia’s been pulling away for months—skipping church, dodging plans, making excuses. And every time I reach out, it feels like she’s slipping further through my fingers.
Before I can spiral too far into that thought, a familiar, irritating voice cuts through the chatter.
“So, are we actually going to talk about the Bible at this Bible study, or just eat s’mores?”
I whip around to see Micah Sanders standing by the fire pit, arms crossed, one eyebrow raised behind those stupid, perfectly clear-framed glasses.
He’s got that dark, slightly too-wavy hair that looks like he ran a hand through it once and called it styled, and the kind of easy smile that probably works on everyone except me.
A few days of stubble that he clearly has no intention of dealing with.
A hoodie and jeans, because Micah Sanders has never once dressed for the occasion in his life and somehow always looks infuriatingly comfortable doing it.
“Excuse me?” I march over, clipboard in hand. “Of course we’re going to talk about the Bible. Do you think I’d call it a Bible study if we weren’t going to study the Bible?”
He shrugs, a smirk tugging at his lips. “I don’t know. I’ve seen you get pretty distracted by aesthetics.”
“Aesthetics are important,” I fire back. “Creating an atmosphere where people feel welcomed and comfortable is part of hospitality. Which, by the way, is biblical.”
“So is studying the Bible.”
“We will study the Bible. There’s an itinerary.” I wave the clipboard at him. “Color-coded. With time slots.”
His eyes flick to the clipboard, and his smirk deepens. “Of course there is.”
“Fellowship comes first,” I continue, defensive now. “People need to connect before they can be vulnerable enough to dig into Scripture. That’s basic discipleship.”
“Or,” Micah counters, leaning against the patio railing, “you could just open with prayer and jump in. Keep it simple.”
“Simple is boring.”
“Simple is effective.”
“You’re—”
“Hey, Harper.” Gray’s voice interrupts, and I turn to see him approaching. “Don’t you have something to ask Micah?”
My thoughts screech to a halt. “Um, no? Why would I—”
I pause.
Wait.
“How did you know about that?”
Gray just shrugs, already backing away.
I narrow my eyes at him, but he’s already gone, disappearing into the small crowd with a stealth that only comes from years of avoiding awkward conversations.
Micah’s looking at me now, curiosity replacing the teasing. “What did you need to ask me?”
“Nothing.” I turn abruptly, heading back toward the snack table. “Absolutely nothing.”
But of course, he follows me.
“Harper.”
“I’m busy.” I grab the box of graham crackers, even though the basket is still half full.
“Busy avoiding my question.”
“Busy being an excellent host.” I shove a few more crackers into the basket, then move to check the chocolate supply.
“You’re a terrible liar.”
“I’m not lying. I’m hosting.”
“Harper.”
His voice is closer now, lower than the surrounding noise, and something about the way he says my name sends a shiver down my spine that I absolutely did not ask for and immediately resent.
I blow out a breath, glancing around. People are laughing, conversing, completely oblivious to the mild panic attack I’m currently having.
Without thinking, I grab Micah’s arm and pull him toward the kitchen.
“Whoa, where are we—”
“Shh,” I tug him through the sliding door, past the kitchen island, and straight into the pantry. The door clicks shut behind us, and suddenly we’re standing in a space barely big enough for one person, let alone two.
The single overhead bulb casts harsh shadows, and I’m acutely aware of how close he is.
Micah glances around, then back at me, a slow smile spreading across his face. “This is cozy.”
“Don’t.” I point a finger at him. “Don’t make it weird.”
“I’m not the one who dragged us into a pantry.”
“I needed privacy.”
“For what?” His tone shifts, teasing fading into something more genuine. “Harper, what’s going on?”
I take a breath, steeling myself. “I need you to do something for me.”
He blinks. “Okay...”
“Do you remember Collin?”
His expression hardens almost instantly. “Yeah. The guy who couldn’t be bothered to look up from his phone at Christmas?”
“That’s not—” I stop myself. “I mean, yes. But that’s not the point.”
“Then what is?”
I fidget with the edge of my sweater, suddenly wishing I’d rehearsed this better. Or at all. “Are you free on Friday March 21st?”
Micah pulls out his phone, scrolling through his calendar. “I’ve got dinner with Gray and the guys, but other than that—”
“Reschedule it.”
He looks up, eyebrows raised. “What?”
“Reschedule it. Because you’re going with me to the North Texas Education Gala.”
Silence.
He stares at me as if I’ve just spoken an unfamiliar language. “I’m...what?”
“The gala. It’s a fundraiser for the school district. Formal event. Dinner, dancing, speeches. Very boring, very necessary. And I need a date.”
“And you’re asking me?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Because Ivy and Olivia dared me. Because I can’t show up alone. Because Collin will be there and I need to prove I’ve moved on, even though I haven’t.
But I don’t say any of that.
“Because you’re available,” I say instead. “And you clean up nicely.”
Something shifts in his expression. “You think I clean up nice?”
“I think you own a suit and you know how to wear it,” I say, keeping my voice completely even. “I was at the same wedding you were.”
The corner of his mouth tugs upward.
“So you noticed.”
“I noticed you didn’t embarrass yourself. That’s all.” I straighten. “So you’ll do it?”
He studies me for a long moment, and I can practically see the gears turning in his head. “What’s the catch?”
“There’s no catch.”
“Harper.”
“Fine.” I cross my arms, defensive. “Collin is going to be there. And I don’t want to show up alone. Happy?”
Something flickers across his face. Surprise? Concern maybe? I can’t tell in the dim light of the pantry. The space suddenly feels smaller than it did thirty seconds ago. Or maybe Micah is just—closer. I’m not sure which one it is and I don’t love that I can’t tell.
“So this is about your ex.”
“It’s not about him. It’s just...easier if I have someone with me. And you’re—”
“Convenient?”
“Available,” I correct. “And trustworthy.”