12. Tyler
CHAPTER TWELVE
TYLER
Each step back from my car to the movie room is filled with stomach-clenching nerves. I keep running through the scenario that’s about to unfold once I read Harper this letter.
Please, fucking please love the letter, Harper. Please, be my girlfriend. Let me love you. Let me be more than your friend.
What if she hates the letter and she turns me down?
“Harp—”
The movie room is empty when I step inside. I was gone longer than intended, sitting in the driver’s seat of my car, fighting an inner battle of whether to pull out the letter from my glove box and give it to Harper.
She could have gone to the bathroom. Perhaps she’s even gone to bed.
I head for Harper’s room, bumping straight into her as soon as I enter the hallway.
“Princess.” I grab Harper’s shoulders to steady her. “You okay? ”
She jerks out of my grip and steps back, glaring at me. It’s a look of hers I’ve seen plenty of times, always caused by my brother.
“What did Felix do this time?” I ask.
“He’s throwing a party in the pool house. You told me you would be right back. I went looking for you. It was the biggest mistake. I walked in on the most disgusting display of a threesome.”
“Shit. His parties are pretty fucked up.”
Her eyes narrow on me. A moment ago, I assumed her anger was directed at my brother. Now, I get the feeling I’ve somehow fucked up and am treading in deep water.
“You knew about this?” Harper snaps. “You know how disgusting all of them are?”
I shrug, unsure why my knowledge is such an issue for her. “Yes, I know about the parties. What do you expect I do about them?”
“ How do you know about them? Have you attended them yourself?”
I don’t understand what any of this is about or why she’s taking her anger out on me.
“Felix is my brother. Harp, I know what shit he gets up to.”
“Don’t call me Harp right now. Answer the question. Have you been to his parties?”
“Yes. I don’t see what the big deal is.”
“Those parties aren’t who you are. Felix is a bad influence on you.”
I slide the letter into my pocket, unsure of what’s happening with Harper right now, but knowing this isn’t the right time to tell her how I feel.
Attempting to de-escalate her anger, I run a hand through my hair, laughing a little to ease up the tension. “Do you really need me to spell this out for you? I’m a guy. Most guys are into sex. They watch porn. Why is it such a shock to you that I’m no different?”
Her mouth opens and closes. She stutters, dumbfounded. “Because… you’re not like that around me and… I thought I knew who you were.”
“You do know who I am.” I hold Harper’s shoulders, my voice gentle as I look into her eyes.
She pushes my hands away. “I don’t know you. Felix said you’re the life of the party. What does that mean? Please tell me you haven’t been on show for people to watch you have sex.”
Fuck.
“Harper… This is… ridiculous. You’re being ridiculous right now.”
“I’ll take that as a yes. I can’t believe you’re not denying any of this.”
The gut-clenching nerves are back. I’ve done some fucked up things. I never wanted Harper to find out about them. They were a few reckless moments I want to leave in the past. They don’t define me.
But how the hell am I supposed to answer Harper, because yes, I’ve had sex in a public setting.
The worst part is Felix was present. He wasn’t intently watching me or getting off on it, but there’s no way to explain any of this without looking like a complete sicko to the girl of my dreams who has the most pristine values.
“I’ve had sex, okay,” I say as calmly as my nerves can manage, hoping she can rationalize what I’m about to say. “You have no right to be mad or interrogate me. You’ve made it clear you’re not my girlfriend.”
“I’m mad because I thought I knew who you were. Now I feel like I don’t know anything about you. I’m mad because…”
Something snaps inside Harper as she searches for words. Something beyond anger. There’s a look in her eyes of violence that startles me. She says she doesn’t recognize me. In this moment, I don’t recognize anything about her.
“Who the fuck was the girl?” she demands. “Was there more than one? I swear, I am going to kill them for touching you. You’re mine .”
“Harper, what the fuck?”
“Tell me their names.” She shoves my chest so hard that I step back to regain my balance. My back hits the wall.
“You’re acting insane right now.” I gaze down at Harper, this tiny, delicate little girl with my shirt in her fists.
Red with jealousy. Violently possessive.
She’s still wearing my hoodie. I don’t know what I’m witnessing or why some twisted part of me finds this side of Harper so fucking hot. I’m even getting hard.
A second later, she lets go of me and steps back, overcome with embarrassment. Her gaze drops to the ground and she speaks in flustered bursts. “I’m sorry. This isn’t me. This isn’t you either. I was saving myself for you. I thought we’d get married one day. Why would you do this?”
Hearing her speak like this pushes me to my breaking point. I’m done with trying to coddle her. Now, I’m pissed off, and years of pent-up anger I didn’t even know I had toward Harper start pouring out.
“I let loose for a few nights over the summer because the one fucking girl I want doesn’t want me.
I have been waiting years for you. I have been so fucking patient and supportive because I’m so goddamn in love with you.
But you don’t feel the same way. You’re off trying to please your parents by dating some secret guy called Paul fucking Ferguson.
You’re too busy moping around after my brother, pretending you want me but it’s really him you want.
Now, you’re acting like I belong to you, when you’ve made it abundantly clear I’m in your friend zone.
I’ve been too blinded to see through your bullshit.
Do you know how badly I want to fuck you, Harper?
I think you do know. I think you like knowing how desired you are.
I’m your lapdog, right? You like having me wrapped around your finger.
Yet you don’t ever plan on doing anything with me.
My brother is right about you. You’re a tease and nothing more. ”
She’s staring at me, speechless, because I’ve called her out.
I sigh, wondering if I’ve been too harsh with her.
But that’s my problem, I’m always treating Harper like she’s delicate.
I’m always pushing down my feelings to cater to her.
All I’ve done is speak the truth, even if my choice in wording was brutal.
I take a deep breath, attempting to calm myself.
“You know what the most fucked up part about all of this is? I’m still in love with you.
I always will be. That assignment I have at school about writing a letter to myself with goal setting—I decided to write the letter to you instead, telling you how much I love you.
I asked my father for my mother’s engagement ring so I could propose to you.
” I retrieve the letter from my pocket. Bitter laughter leaves my lips as I look down at it.
“I went to my car to get the letter. I was going to give it to you tonight and tell you everything. What a fucking joke. Read it. Don’t read it. I don’t care anymore. I’m done.”
I drop the letter on the floor at her feet and walk away.
“Tyler, wait.” Her voice cracks. She’s crying. “Don’t leave. I’m sorry. It’s you and me, always. Remember?”
Hearing her speak our phrase physically hurts. There’s pain in my chest, pulling me back to Harper, telling me to wipe away her tears and hold her in my arms.
But I won’t kneel to her this time.
“I’m going back to the city, Harper. I’ve waited too long for you.”