24. Harper
TWENTY-FOUR
Harper
The Essential
8:29 AM
The patio is bathed in sunlight. It's the perfect antidote to the past few days and the cap to my overnight shit.
It always feels like a little escape to come here, especially now that the weather is nice, so we can sit out here. Walking out with the sun hitting my face is the closest thing to normal I’ve had in days.
Especially considering I get to share it with Jonah today.
He’s already seated when I walk out. He has a cup of iced coffee in front of him while his fingers drum lightly on the edge of the table. He looks more relaxed than he did a couple of days ago when this all started, but there’s still a tightness around his eyes that betrays the weight he’s carrying.
“Hey,” I say, sliding into the chair across from him.
He looks up and offers a faint smile. “Hey. Thanks for agreeing to have a post-workout coffee with me, even though I haven't been the sweetest version of myself.”
“Of course,” I reply, setting my bag on the chair beside me. “I love this spot.”
“Good choice,” he says, glancing around. “The weather’s perfect today.”
“Hard to argue with sunshine and good coffee,” I say as I hang my bag on the back of my chair. I take a long, delicious sip of my iced matcha latte and settle back in my chair. “So, how’s Lila doing?”
He lets out a breath, his hand moving to his coffee mug. “She’s struggling, but she’s holding up. My parents showed up yesterday, which, I’ll admit, was a surprise.”
“Really?” I ask, tilting my head. “Is that unusual for them?”
He nods, his jaw tightening slightly. “Yeah. They weren’t the most productive nor present parents back in the day. But they’re here now. They’re even taking her to visit some gambling rehab programs today.”
“That’s a big step,” I say carefully, gauging his reaction. I don't want to push too hard this time for fear he will shut down again.
“It is,” he agrees, though there’s a hint of skepticism in his tone. “But Lila’s got a long way to go. She owes a significant amount of money to some very dangerous people. She admitted they’ve been threatening her.”
My stomach twists at the thought. “Threatening her how?”
“Not just her—she says they’ve gone after people she knows. And they want her to come up with the money fast. She’s barely getting any breathing room. It’s… a lot.” His voice drops slightly, frustration bleeding through.
I try to hide my shock, drawing lines in the condensation on my cup. “How much does she owe?”
“Eighty grand,” he says flatly, rubbing his temples. “They told her to come up with at least half in two weeks. She says she’s trying, but… I don’t know. She’s scared.”
“That’s…” I trail off, shaking my head. “Insane. Sorry for my reaction, but I just can't believe all of this.”
“Yeah,” he says bitterly. “And now she’s in over her head, caught up in a mess that keeps getting bigger. It’s why I told her to take the rehab idea seriously. She’s never had the willpower to follow through, but this… this feels different. Maybe seeing Mom and Dad step up is making a difference.”
Hearing him admit this after his stark response to my suggestions of rehab is refreshing.
“That’s hopeful,” I say softly. “If she’s willing to go, maybe it’s exactly what she needs.”
Jonah nods, though his shoulders remain tense. “Yeah, maybe. I just wish it hadn’t taken her getting in this deep to make it happen.”
“That must be strange for you,” I say, watching his reaction carefully.
He lets out a dry laugh. “Yeah, you could say that. Mom’s trying to handle this differently. She admitted some things she never has before. About how they handled things with me and Eddie. About how they—” He stops, shaking his head. “Never mind.”
“Who’s Eddie?” I ask, curiosity flickering to life.
He glances at me, his expression briefly unreadable. “My older brother."
"Oh, you have a brother, too? Aren't you full of surprises?”
"Yes, unfortunately, they aren't the good ones, though. He's our recluse. He left for Colorado about twenty years ago to, I don’t know, escape the Bellinger curse. Never came back. We’re not close.” He shrugs, as if that’s all there is to say, but there’s a tension in his jaw that tells me otherwise.
I lean forward slightly, my voice soft. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. But for what it’s worth, I’m glad they’re trying. Maybe all of this will end up being a healing thing for all of you.”
He nods, his gaze fixed on his coffee. “Yeah. If this helps her turn things around, then it’s worth it.”
I let the conversation settle for a moment, resisting the urge to offer advice. He will ask if he needs it. I hope. Instead, I reach for my latte and take a sip as I try to read his mood.
He glances up at me, a small, almost hesitant smile tugging at his lips. “Thanks for asking about her. It means a lot.”
“Of course,” I say, meeting his gaze. “I know how much she means to you. And, if you remember, she and I formed our own little alliance while she was in the hospital. This whole situation feels like a soap opera. Next thing you know, Eddie’s going to turn out to be married to my long-lost cousin or something.”
Jonah smirks, shaking his head. “Eddie isn’t married. No woman would subject herself to that kind of misery.”
“Little brother love at its finest,” I tease, kicking him under the table.
We fall into an easier rhythm after that, the conversation drifting to lighter topics—work, random stories from the ER, and even a few jokes about my terrible taste in what he calls dirt, otherwise known as matcha.
By the time we finish, the tension between us feels less like a wall and more like a bridge.
As we stand to leave, I hesitate, glancing at him. “I'm not looking forward to walking back into whatever holy hell my parents and sister have gotten into. They are staying at a hotel, but I have a feeling they are at my condo. Wish me luck."
"Hey, I’m planning to head home and crash for a bit. If you want a refuge and need a nap, I'd love for you to join me.”
It's a bold move on my part, but I have nothing to lose, and he looks like he could use a nap, too. If nothing else, at least he can buy some time before going back to his place.
He raises an eyebrow, his expression caught between amusement and consideration. “Are you sure you want to hear me snoring?”
I laugh. “I'll just throw something at you to shut you up.”
“I can work with that,” he says, a genuine smile breaking through. “Lead the way.”
Harper’s Pool House
9:29 AM
Jonah steps in behind me, his usual confidence muted, replaced by an exhaustion I’ve only seen glimpses of before. It’s the kind of weariness that goes deeper than a lack of sleep.
I kick off my shoes and toss my bag on the entryway table. “Alright,” I say, turning to face him. “The couch is yours, the fridge is fair game, and if you feel like being fancy, the pool is out back.”
Jonah raises an eyebrow. “Fancy, huh? You’re really selling this.”
I shrug, grinning. “I aim to please. Oh, and there’s one more option.”
“What’s that?” he asks, leaning against the doorway.
I gesture toward the bedroom. “You can always snuggle—or not snuggle—with me while I nap. It’s a limited-time offer, though, so act fast.”
His lips twitch into a smile, but there’s a softness in his eyes that makes my chest ache a little. He pushes off the doorframe and steps closer, his gaze steady on mine. “That’s tempting,” he murmurs, his voice low, “but I’m not sure I’m the snuggling type.”
“Oh, please,” I say, rolling my eyes. “Everyone’s the snuggling type. Some people just haven’t figured it out yet.”
He chuckles softly, and before I can say anything else, he’s close enough that I can feel the warmth of him, the faint scent of his cologne mingling with the air. His hand comes up, brushing a stray piece of hair from my face, and my breath catches.
“Maybe,” he says, his tone shifting, quieter now. “But I’m thinking not snuggling sounds pretty good, too.”
The words hang between us, heavy with implication, and before I can respond, his lips find mine. The kiss is slow and deliberate, like he’s savoring the moment. My heart stutters in my chest as I lean into him, my hands resting lightly on his chest.
When he pulls back just enough to look at me, there’s a flicker of something vulnerable in his gorgeous blue eyes. “Harper...” he starts, but whatever he was about to say, he stops himself.
“What?” I ask softly, searching his face.
He shakes his head, a small, almost self-deprecating smile tugging at his lips. “Nothing. Thank you. For this. For…” He trails off again, but I understand what he’s trying to say. For not pushing. For being here.
"You don't have to thank me," I say, sliding my hand to his cheek and savoring the roughness of his stubble against my open palm. "But you're welcome to anyway."
Jonah's eyes darken as he pulls me flush against him. His lips crash into mine, urgent and demanding. I gasp as I feel the hard length of him pressing into my stomach through his thin joggers. Heat floods my core, desire coiling tight within me.
"Fuck, Harper," he growls against my mouth. "I want you so bad."
"Then take me," I breathe, running my hands down his chest.
In one swift motion, Jonah yanks my gym shirt over my head, tossing it aside. His hot gaze rakes over my sports bra as he fumbles for his wallet, extracting a condom. I slide my hands into the waistband of his joggers, pushing them and his boxers down in one go. His thick cock springs free and I wrap my fingers around the velvet-steel shaft, stroking slowly.
Jonah groans, his head falling back. "Jesus Christ, Harper."
I tug him towards the bedroom, shimmying out of my leggings as we stumble through the doorway. Jonah tears open the condom packet with his teeth, rolling it on quickly. We tumble onto the bed in a tangle of limbs, lips, and hands roaming feverishly.
Jonah's hands slide to my hips, urging me onto my knees. I comply eagerly, arching my back as he positions himself behind me. The blunt head of his cock nudges my entrance and I moan in anticipation.
"You ready for me, sweetheart?" Jonah husks, his voice rough with desire.
"God, yes," I pant. "Please, Jonah. I need you inside me."
With a guttural groan, Jonah pushes into me in one long, slow thrust. I cry out at the delicious stretch, gripping the sheets as he fills me.
"Fuck, you feel amazing," Jonah groans, his fingers digging into my hips. "So tight and wet for me."
He starts to move, setting a punishing rhythm that has me seeing stars. The room fills with the sounds of our pleasure - skin slapping against skin, breathy moans, and whispered curses.
"Harder," I beg, pushing back to meet his thrusts. "God, Jonah, don't stop."
Jonah obliges, pounding into me relentlessly. One hand snakes around to rub tight circles on my clit and I cry out, trembling on the edge of release.
"That's it, baby," Jonah pants. "Come for me. Let me feel you."
His words send me careening over the edge. I come with a hoarse cry, clenching rhythmically around him as waves of pleasure crash over me. Jonah follows soon after, burying himself to the hilt with a strangled groan of my name.
We collapse onto the bed, breathing heavily. Jonah pulls me close, pressing a tender kiss to my temple. In the afterglow, I feel more connected to him than ever before, savoring this moment of raw intimacy we've shared.