Chapter 22 Nate
NATE
Iwake to loud noises from the kitchen. It sounds like someone is banging pots and pans together in there. Which is odd, because I’m pretty sure it’s Thursday and my cleaning lady comes at the beginning of the week.
Something soft and warm is pressed against me and it hits me in a blinding flash of remembrance. Harper’s room. Getting all of our shit out into the open. Feeling her release all the pent-up emotions of the day under my palm. Our bodies colliding together in amazing pleasure.
Saying I love you.
Shit. I blink my eyes open to see a mess of honey blond waves draped over my chest. She makes this little wheezing noise on each exhale when she sleeps, the sound well-known to me after all these weeks, and something in my chest tightens when I hear it.
Waking up to her is becoming familiar and that makes me want to laugh with unbridled joy.
Another clanging noise interrupts my sentimentality and Harper groans into my chest. “Emma,” she mumbles. “Always does this in the morning.”
“Perhaps you should be spending more mornings at my house, then,” I murmur, kissing the top of her head. She nestles into me, her hips wiggling a little, maybe with happiness, and I can’t constrain my grin.
“She usually has coffee waiting,” Harper says. “That’s the only silver lining to her morning routine.”
“Stay here,” I tell her. “I’ll go get us some.”
She mumbles something as she burrows farther into the blankets, still probably half asleep, and I slide out from under her, finding my slacks draped over her desk chair.
“Morning,” I call to Emma as I walk into the kitchen, not wanting to startle her. She startles anyway, dropping a cast iron pan to the counter top with a gasp.
“Shit!” she says, hand over her heart. “I didn’t think you’d be up yet.”
I raise an eyebrow. “How do you think we could have slept through that?”
She rolls her eyes. “I’m not that loud.”
“Mmmhmm,” I say, sliding past her to the coffee pot. “Mugs?”
“Cabinet over your head,” she directs, and I pull two down. “Cream’s on the table.”
“Thanks.”
I prepare our coffee in silence, feeling Emma’s eyes on the back of my head the entire time. When I’m finished, I turn to her. “Everything okay?”
Her eyes are narrowed on my face, studying me. “You’re being good to her?”
I don’t bother getting offended. I’m happy that Harper has someone watching out for her. “Of course.”
She doesn’t seem appeased. “You’re staying away from her on campus?”
My body feels suddenly cold, and I wish I would have taken the time to find my shirt. She takes my silence as an answer.
“Look, I know you’re some big shot author or whatever,” she says. “Your reputation can probably withstand a little gossip. But Harper’s education is really important to her—”
“I know that,” I snap. Fuck, that drive to succeed in school is one of the things I love about her.
Emma isn’t at all cowed by my tone or my glare. “Then you better fucking protect her.”
She holds my glare for a long moment, not backing down. Finally, I sigh, my shoulders slumping. “I will.” I’ll do better, I tell myself. I have to do better.
Just then Harper appears in the doorway to the kitchen, looking adorable in sleep shorts and my undershirt, hair a crazy riot of waves around her shoulders. She meets my eyes, a smile playing around her lips. “Please tell me she’s not lecturing you.”
“I’m looking out for you,” Emma shoots back.
“You could look out for me by making me some eggs,” Harper suggests sweetly, batting her eyelashes at her roommate.
“Why doesn’t Mister Wonderful make you some eggs?” Emma suggests, but there’s humor in her voice.
“He’s too busy looking fine as all hell over there without his shirt on,” Harper says in a loud stage whisper.
She’s happy, I think as she and Emma both laugh. The complete opposite to how she was yesterday—happy and at peace.
And I’m the one who did that for her. Being with me last night helped to bring her to this place. Maybe this relationship might be good for her after all.
I thought it would be awkward, spending time with Emma.
That being around her college-age roommate might remind me that Harper is a hell of a lot younger than I am.
But it doesn’t feel like that this morning.
All I can see as I look between the two women is a loyal friend who cares about my girl as much as I do.
If my being here makes Harper smile like that, I’ll come over every damn day. Hell, I’ll make them both eggs every morning to see Harper look so happy.
This is going to work, I think, feeling a rush of hope. If we can just get through the rest of the academic year, it will all be okay. Maybe it will be better than okay.
Of course, the universe has to choose that moment to shit all over my hope.
“Harpy,” a voice calls from the living room, the sound of the front door closing clear in the sudden, stunned silence of the kitchen. The three of us freeze, no one able to react.
And then it’s too late to attempt an escape because Mason is striding into the room, a paper bag and a coffee carrier in his hands. “I thought you might need some cheering up—”
He freezes, catching sight of me, standing there motionless in his little sister’s kitchen. I can’t think of a single excuse, a single viable reason for me to be in their apartment first thing on a Thursday morning. Jesus, I’m not even wearing a shirt. And Harper is clearly just out of bed.
“What the hell?” he asks, his voice more confused than angry. Somehow that makes it feel even worse—it’s like he literally can’t seem to guess why I’m here. “Chase?”
His eyes flick over to his little sister and the bewilderment on his face quickly fades, replaced by suspicion. “What the hell is going on?”
I step forward. “Mason, man, let’s go outside and talk.”
His face snaps back toward me, eyes narrowing. He takes in my appearance—I’m sure my hair is as messed as Harper’s, and my feet are as bare as my chest. “You’re fucking kidding me,” he whispers.
“Mason, look—”
He spins to Harper. “Tell me this isn’t what it looks like.”
I focus on her for the first time since he appeared and the expression on her face makes my stomach drop. She looks terrified. Terrified and guilty as all hell.
“Mason.” She doesn’t say anything else, just his name. He watches her for a long moment, chest rising and falling in rapid succession. Finally, he turns back to me, fire in his eyes. “Harper, go to your room.”
“Mason,” Emma says, her voice conciliatory. “You can’t just tell her to go to her room. She’s a grown—”
“You leave too,” he snaps. “I want both of you out of this kitchen. Now.”
“Why?” Harper asks, her voice small and scared.
Mason never takes his eyes off of me as he answers her. “Because I don’t want you in here when I kick his ass.”
“No.” There’s finally some strength in Harper’s voice and I feel a stab of pride for her, that she can be strong like this when I know she’s so scared of her brother’s reaction. “You’re not touching him.”
He turns back to her. “Do you have any idea what you’re doing? How stupid it is?”
“Mason,” I snap. He can be pissed at me all he wants, but I’m not letting him talk to her like that.
But Harper stands her ground. “I know exactly what I’m doing.”
He throws up his hands. “He’s going to ruin you, Harper!”
“He’s not! He cares—”
“There are already rumors about you,” he yells, and everything seems to still in that kitchen.
“What rumors?” she asks, her voice shaking.
Mason jabs a finger over his shoulder at me.
“I had lunch with a few guys from the alumni association yesterday,” he snaps.
“Apparently there’s been some talk about this asshole hooking up with a student.
” He casts me a glare and I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so angry.
“I was going to call you this afternoon to warn you. Because that’s what you do for a friend. ”
The word sounds like poison in his mouth. A friend. I’m supposed to be his friend.
I can barely wrap my mind around this news. People are talking about me? Who? Who could have found out? Did someone hear us in the library? My stomach drops. I was supposed to be careful with her. How did I fuck it up so badly?
There had been a moment, yesterday, after her adviser nearly caught us, when I told myself that I needed to put distance between us.
But I had completely ignored that instinct the moment I next saw her.
And I can tell myself my actions yesterday had been for her, that I had merely wanted to help her when I knew she was so sad, but that’s bullshit.
Everything I did yesterday comes down to one simple fact—I love this girl, and I wanted to be with her.
And look at where that’s gotten us.
I run a hand roughly through my hair. I have to figure out a way to fix this. For her. I can’t let her get dragged down into a scandal that could screw up her education.
But then Harper does something that takes the breath from my lungs. “I don’t care,” she says calmly. “I don’t care if people find out. School doesn’t matter as much as he does. I’m in love with him.”
No.
No. She can’t talk like that. She can’t be willing to give up her academic career for me. I can’t let her.
Mason seems to be on the same page. He turns back to me and his fist comes flying into my face, knocking me back against the counter. Harper screams and from the corner of my eye, I see Emma grabbing her around the shoulders, keeping her from running into the middle of the violence.
“You fucking prick,” Mason growls, pushing me as soon as I straighten. “What the fuck did you do to her?”
I rub a hand over my lip, my fingers coming away bloody.
“He didn’t do anything,” Harper yells, but Mason keeps his eyes on me.
“School means everything to her,” he snarls. “What have you been putting in her head? How fucking dare you ruin this for her!”
“I wouldn’t,” I tell him. “That’s the last thing I—”
“You just heard her!” he roars. “She’s talking like it doesn’t matter!”