Chapter 26
Harlyn
“So do you have any updates on the guard guy from Michigan? I looked online to see what I could find, but there’s barely been any coverage on it,” Liv questions.
It’s been nice feeling like I have my friend back.
Occasionally, the tension of distance or how I got here will make things a little more awkward between us, but after a long call once I got a new phone when I really took time to explain everything and groveled a bit, Liv has been more than understanding.
“Boone hasn’t said anything.”
“Other than, ‘Oh baby, let me in your back door!’” She grunts in exaggeration.
“Pretty much, that’s all we ever talk about.”
“I knew you were a closet freak, but now that we’re on the topic, is Officer Rear Door Action there?”
“No.” I make the one word sound like a pout. Boone hasn’t been here much at all in the past several days, and I’m starting to go a little stir crazy.
“Boo for you, but yay for me. Give me the nitty-gritty. I want to know everything.”
I grin at the thought but cringe at the same time.
Olivia is serious when she says she wants to know everything.
She can be an oversharer when it comes to her sex life, and she expects the same kind of attention to detail in return.
I got out of this conversation once before when Boone was actually here, but there’s no way I’m getting off the hook as easily now.
“Like what?” I play dumb while picking at the corner of a pillow.
“Harlyn Wade, don’t you deprive me of this!
You owe me for not kicking your ass after you left.
” Her tone is teasing, but the undercurrent of truth still rings in her statement.
Not only that, but I want to talk to her—need to talk to her, in fact, because I feel like I’m drowning in Boone, and I don’t think I want to come up.
Maybe she can talk some sense into me before I admit to being hopelessly in love with him way too fast to be healthy.
“Yeah, yeah,” I agree around a smile I can’t seem to fight when I’m thinking about Boone.
“So spill,” she demands.
I imagine her pulling her legs up on the bed to sit crisscross and staring down at the phone. Hell, I’m surprised she didn’t ask to FaceTime, but I don’t think I could say some of the things I want to while looking at her, so I start talking before she gets the same idea. “He’s…”
“Got a tinky-winky?” she eagerly adds while giggling.
“No,” I scoff. “Quite the opposite. It matches the rest of him.” I blush, even though I’m alone.
“Hell yes! I was just fucking with you. He totally gives off BD energy.”
“You haven’t even met him,” I accuse.
“I saw his interview on that show. The host chick wanted a piece really badly. Do yourself a favor and don’t go look at the comment sections under the promo videos they posted on their social sites. Bunch of thirsty bitches.”
I sink into the couch cushions, just imagining what they could be saying or thinking, but I have to ignore it. If I go down that rabbit hole, it will just breed jealousy and insecurities I don’t need. “Yeah, I got that vibe from her too. I think she got offended when I asked for his number.”
“Holy shit, you asked for his number right in front of her? Oh my gosh, I would have died to see that.”
“Not like that,” I say with a smile. “It was awkward as hell actually. I told him he could call me anytime and mentioned two in the morning for some reason.”
“Oh, Har, you are adorable. So he offered you his number?”
“When my interview was over, I asked if he’d be willing to talk to me about Hayzel’s case.”
“Sure…” She chortles.
“No, really, I mean I’m not going to deny I thought he was gorgeous and had some rather not so pure thoughts about him and his size, but my focus at the time was her case.”
“I know, I’m just messing with you, but I’m really glad to hear you were attracted to him.
See? I told you it would just take some time, or maybe you only like a big, strong man with a gun.
And you know what? That’s fucking okay with me, especially now.
Fucking freaks out here. A girl needs someone she can trust to take care of her. ”
“Yeah,” I agree, not sure what it was exactly about Boone that intrigued me from the moment I saw him.
“So you met up, sparks flew, and you fell over with his dick inside you. That’s what I want to hear about, not that I don’t like knowing you stole his fine ass right out from under that blonde’s nose, but I need the real details, Har. Hard hitting, cervix bumping details!”
“Gosh, Liv, is Parker not giving you any?”
“You do not want to know the way that man defiled me this morning.” She sighs wistfully, and I know she’s speaking the truth. “Speaking of, if you don’t give me something, I might have to go into details about how he loves to eat it from—”
“No, no, feel free to keep that little nugget to yourself,” I interrupt.
“Are you sure? I mean, that man is a magician with his tongue and fingers.”
“Believe me, I know. We did live in the same house, you know,” I deadpan, but I’m only teasing. It feels good to have some of our usual banter. “I missed you, Liv.”
“Me too, Harlyn, but I was so mad at you,” she admits with the same level of emotion.
“I know, and you were right to be. I was a chicken.”
“You were, but maybe there’s a reason why you didn’t want to tell me. I don’t always take change well. I mean, Parker has been begging me to move in with him, and I just kept putting it off because I was afraid.”
“We’re both a little messed up,” I agree.
“Yeah,” she whispers, and the line goes quiet long enough for me to get the courage to tell her something else that scares me.
“Livy, I think I love him.” My confession comes out as a whisper, even though I’m completely alone in the apartment, and I’m not worried about being overheard. “I mean, I can’t, right? I barely even know him,” I argue just as softly, as if that thought is just as abhorrent.
“Honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised, even if he didn’t literally save you from a psycho. You’ve cut yourself off from anything for a long time, Harlyn. I knew the minute you let someone in, they would leave a mark.” She sounds resigned, sad even. I don’t know how to take that.
“You think I’m crazy.”
“Hell no, I know you aren’t crazy.” Her tone completely shifts until I can’t ignore the conviction making her words feel like a reprimand for even voicing those thoughts. “I just don’t want you to get hurt.”
“Me either.” I swallow the tightness in my throat, because there’s nothing I can do with it or the strange mix of unease and butterflies in my stomach. After another short lull in conversation, I add, “He has been taking really good care of me.”
“I hope that extends to the bedroom.” Liv latches onto the safer topic and runs with it.
“It does,” I concede, just as eager to step away from my confession and acknowledge what we both know. Boone could break me, and I’m not really sure if there would be pieces left to put me back together after.
I give her a few more lewd details, nothing in the realm that Liv was hoping for, but it’s enough to satiate her for the time being before we finally hang up.
It’s nearly seven, and Boone is usually back by now.
We’ve been planning to go to the grocery store for the past two nights, but once he gets home, it’s a little bit of a challenge to leave.
I think about the way he touched me last night in the shower and after, and heat fills my lower belly.
While my phone is still in my hand, I send him a text, asking him to let me know when he gets here so I can meet him out front.
I know if he comes inside, our evening will more than likely go the way it did last night and the night before, and I’m getting tired of takeout.
I jump up when I hear a sudden knock on the door, accompanied by a male voice saying my name loud enough to travel through the apartment. It has me simultaneously looking for a place to hide while contemplating if I could see who it is before trying my luck and climbing out the window.
“Harlyn, it’s me, Chauncey.” He bangs on the door again. “I have a key. I’m going to open the door.”
“Oh shit, oh shit!” I backpedal, scared, but not because I don’t believe him. It sounds like the man I met a few days ago—the same one who brought me his daughter’s old tablet and joked with Boone. The reason I’m scared is because he’s here and Boone isn’t, and I don’t know what that means.
The lock snapping open seems loud, even though the sound is just a small click. Chauncey pokes his head in the door, and his face is set in a grim mask. “There’s been an incident.”
My stomach drops, and I actually feel my legs wobble. “Incident?” I question through a croak. Though my mind is reeling, I can’t fathom what could be happening, but with every fiber of my being, I know it’s bad.
Chauncey pushes the door the rest of the way open and steps into the apartment.
There is at least twenty feet separating us, but that space isn’t enough to obscure his disheveled appearance.
He looks so much different than the smartly put together man who sat at the counter with Boone.
Even if his clothes weren’t askew and stained with a dark substance, his features, tight with worry, would tell me this isn’t a ruse or trick. Something is very, very wrong.
“Where’s Boone?” The moment the question slips out of my mouth, I want to throw up.
“The hospital. Surgery.” Chauncey’s jaw ticks as if he is stopping himself from saying anything else.
“Is he okay?” My words come out muffled from behind my hands.
“I don’t know. He made me promise to come here first.”
“So he’s talking?” I cling to the information.
“He was.”