25. Harley
Chapter Twenty-Five
HARLEY
Grant stared at me. My heart was pounding so hard that I felt unsteady for a moment. I reflexively placed my palm on my chest. In a flash, he was at my side.
“Are you okay?”
“I'm fine,” I muttered.
Except I wasn't. The pace of my heartbeat felt like a ball rolling down a hill, picking up speed. I sat back down, forcing myself to take several deep breaths. When I opened my eyes, Grant was right there, and my heartbeat was slower.
I lied again, right to his face this time. “I'm fine. I'm just annoyed.”
Which was true, except my heart had started to race again.
“Would you tell me if you weren't?” he asked.
“Maybe not. Look, I don't like anybody worrying about me.”
Grant was quiet. He felt angry, and Grant never got angry. He was easygoing.
“When people care about you, they worry. Like Daphne cares. Diego cares. I'm sure your sisters do. We all care.”
“I know.”
Feeling stubborn, I crossed my arms, twining my forearms together. “Look, it doesn't work for me if you're going to be hovering and worried about everything I do. I don't need to report back when I have an issue. I'm taking medication. It's going to be fine.”
Grant closed his eyes. Opening them, he shook his head slowly. “You just don't get it. Why do you have to be so stubborn?”
“Because I am stubborn,” I replied, not even caring how mulish I sounded.
“You know, my mom didn't tell us she was having issues until it was too late. For what it's worth, she didn't know until it was too late. You actually know. It really hurts people when they want to help but can’t.”
He stood and stalked away, sprinting up the stairs. His bedroom door slammed shut.
I was still annoyed, but I also felt twinges of guilt stinging in my heart.
I'd be damned if I was going to apologize.
I waited until I heard him go into the bathroom and back into his bedroom before I thought about going upstairs.
Even after that, I sat quietly in the living room, working on my laptop.
Two hours later, I tiptoed upstairs and spent a mostly sleepless night tossing and turning.
I finally gave up around four in the morning and powered my laptop on to do more work.
When I heard Grant get up and shower, I thought about going out and telling him I was sorry and that I understood how he felt about his mom.
But I was still feeling stubborn and pressed to explain that we weren't the same.
I knew what was wrong, and I was taking medication.
It would be fine. I didn't need everybody hovering over me.