Chapter 19
Nineteen
Harper
I’m exhausted.
So exhausted I’m trying to summon the energy to crawl out of bed and slip into the bath I ran.
For now, all I’ve managed is to toe off my shoes and collapse onto the mattress.
When I went back inside, the promise of friendship lingering between Leo and me, it was to find my stuff packed up and the guys almost finished loading my car.
Smitty wasn’t happy about not being in the loop, nor about everyone else helping me to get out of there as quickly as possible so he couldn’t wriggle his way into it, but a whispered word from Kailey and he tabled his protests.
Though, they still lingered in his eyes when he hugged me goodbye.
I know his patience at being shut out won’t last—
And maybe that should piss me off—the way these people seem to think they have a right to know what’s going on with my life.
I haven’t known them long.
But…it feels like I have.
They’re my friends. No, truthfully, they’re my family—more family than I’ve had in years.
My mom is gone. My dad has never been in the picture.
For too long I was on my own.
Now it’s really nice to just have people.
So, no, Smitty and his nosiness, and Luna and her practically salivating to know everything Leo and I said to each other in the back yard after Shannon left aren’t making me crazy—not yet, anyway.
Mostly because Smitty didn’t demand anything from me when it was clear I wasn’t up to talking, and because Luna wanted to ask those questions but didn’t, just hugged me tightly and walked me to my car.
They care and they have my back. They all do.
Even Leo?
Weeks ago, I would have said no, absolutely not.
But ginger candies and food and our eyes connecting over an ultrasound.
A onesie with the Grizzlies logo on the front…and his number on the back.
And wanting something different, something more.
Something that he seems unable to give—not just to me, but to any woman in his life. That brutal conversation in my kitchen, letting Shannon walk away with barely a conversation. How many other women has he cut off without a second thought?
Like we’re disposable.
Like I am.
Like my dad thought my mom and I were—trading us in for a new family. Like my exes had—breaking my heart then quickly moving on to someone else.
Groaning, I throw my arm over my face. Why has my life gotten so complicated?
“I know exactly why,” I mutter grumpily.
It was because I got myself knocked up by number ninety.
Buzz. Buzz.
Sighing, I roll to the side and snag my phone, heart squeezing when I see the name on the screen.
LEO: You make it home, okay? Need me to bring anything since you didn’t eat dinner?
My new “friend” offered to drive me, but…
Yeah, no.
I couldn’t deal with being stuck in the confined space of a car with Leo and all my conflicting feelings about him—not after the scene with Shannon, not after the entire night, not after…
Everything that’s still swirling around in my head.
Like him being such a good friend to the guys, the girls—standing up for Luna, dropping everything to help Bri at the shelter, stepping in to drive Faye to the airport when Gray got food poisoning and she had a conference she couldn’t miss…
and then going back to stay with Gray while he recovered, even heating him up soup when he felt like he could keep something down.
Picking up cables for Kailey’s computer, bringing a TV over for Sawyer when his went on the fritz.
Dozens of things, all intensely kind and generous.
But those were for his friends, his family.
With women—with me, with Shannon…it’s like he’s a different person.
I’m not clueless. I know it’s likely because he has bad history there, trauma influencing his current relationships. It’s just…
I can’t be the person he works them out on.
I need him to get his head together. For me (his “friend”), and for our baby.
Sighing, but not wanting him to worry, I type out a reply.
HARPER: I’m home. And good. Thanks.
The “…” immediately appears but my phone buzzes again with a different message.
UNKNOWN NUMBER: It’s Smitty. Kailey and I are bringing you breakfast in the morning. We’ll be there at 9.
I’ve barely finished reading that before another text comes through.
KAILEY: Sorry about Connor. Between you and Leo, and that Blue Line Matchmaker, he’s a little…miffed. But if you don’t feel up to breakfast, we’ll give you space. I promise.
I exhale, my heart squeezing.
See? They care.
HARPER: It’s okay. Breakfast sounds great.
Then I save Smitty’s number in my phone and reply back to him.
HARPER: Those apple turnovers from Molly’s sound great.
SMITTY: Then we’ll bring Molly’s.
Another heart squeeze.
HARPER: Thank you. See you in the morning at 10?
There’s a pause.
SMITTY: You drive a tough bargain. But 10 it is. Rest up. I have plenty of questions and you’re growing that baby of yours.
I reply with a saluting emoji then push myself upright. Bath time.
Only as I’m walking to the bathroom, I see the notification I’d forgotten about.
The text from Leo.
LEO: You doing your planner? Or watching that trashy reality show you and the girls are always going on about?
I almost drop my phone.
How does he know about the planner?
The reality show makes sense—it’s one of Bri and Faye’s favorite things to discuss.
But the planner?
That’s something we didn’t talk about during our night together, something I don’t really talk about with anyone.
I have my stash of stickers and pretty pens and washi tape that is more glitter than actual tape.
But it’s all hidden away, and it’s not like we talked about the joy of writing with a really good pen.
Even the girls don’t know that I spend most of my free time hunched over my kitchen table choosing the perfect sticker to compliment my daily spread.
So how does Leo know?
The appointment.
He’d handed me my planner so I could ask Dr. Harlow my questions.
“Dammit,” I whisper, my heart going a hundred miles per hour.
I should plug my phone in, go get in that bath.
So why don’t I?
Why do I curl up against the headboard and type out a message instead?
HARPER: No to both, actually. I’m about to get in the bath.
There’s a long pause. Then:
LEO: Be careful getting in and out of the tub. It’s easy to get lightheaded and slip.
HARPER: You read that in one of your books?
Another pause.
LEO: Yup. Because proper preparation prevents piss poor performance. Or at least, that was what my college coach used to say.
I laugh quietly.
HARPER: Why is that the most hockey thing ever?
LEO: *shrug emoji* Probably because it is.
I exhale then falter, wondering what to say. Wondering if our conversation should just end here…even though some part of me wants to keep it open.
Sighing, I set my phone on my nightstand and crawl out of bed.
Buzz. Buzz.
I snatch my phone back up.
LEO: Did you play sports growing up?
I blink. What an odd question.
Or maybe not, considering his job.
HARPER: Do I look the least bit athletic to you?
LEO: I mean you do juggle pots and pans and trays for a living. That takes finesse and athleticism.
My lips twitch.
HARPER: I’ll let you know when I get my gold medal in plating.
LEO: I’ll be in the stands cheering you up.
HARPER: Lol.
LEO: I should let you take that bath.
HARPER: Yeah. It’s been sitting for a while. I probably should get in.
There’s a pause, long enough to be awkward…even though we’re not in the same room. Even though there are miles between us.
Even though I could just put the phone down and get in the bath I keep talking about.
LEO: Yeah, it’s getting late. You should go relax.
See? Even he says so.
Buzz. Buzz.
LEO: I really liked the dinner you cooked tonight. Thank you for that…even if things were a mess.
My heart skips a beat.
HARPER: You’re welcome.
LEO: Those fig appetizer things were the shit. I’d give my right arm to have more. Too bad Smitty inhaled them all.
I laugh softly. All the guys had liked him, but Leo’s right.
Smitty had gone to town on them.
Still, something softens in me that he likes my food.
So much so that I send a dumb message in return.
HARPER: I’ll make them again for you some time.
There’s another pause—long enough for me to realize what I’ve said.
Implied.
“Ugh,” I groan, tossing my phone to the side and rubbing my hands over my face. “What am I doing?”
But I don’t have an answer.
And neither does Leo apparently.
Because he doesn’t reply.
And eventually…
I give up on him.
Because what else can I do?
Only just as I walking into the bathroom, I hear—
Buzz. Buzz.
LEO: I’d like that.
My lungs inflate in a rush that’s so intense I nearly drop to my knees—I want it that bad.
I like it that much.
My fingers fly over the keys, but it’s when my thumb is heading for the send button that I freeze.
That I realize what I’m doing.
What I’m feeling.
Hope—the slenderest thread is coiling through my insides, wrapping itself around my heart.
Hope that things may be different.
Hope that what I thought that night months ago might be true.
Hope that he wants me, not just once but…
Forever.
That word is a slap across my face, stinging enough to snap me out of myself.
Out of my idiocy.
I hit the backspace button, tapping over and over again.
Tapping until nothing remains of the message.
Until nothing remains of the mistake I almost made.
But the yearning is still there.
For Leo.
For more.
“So dumb, Harp,” I whisper. “So freaking dumb.”