Chapter 13 Harper
thirteen
Harper
COLOR.
Silence can be loud, heavy, the air thick with it like a curse.
Gone were the deep red walls of the club. The neon city lights. The roar of my bike.
The sound of his moans, like music.
Gone.
Walking through the doors to my apartment was an ice plunge back into reality—into the world I belonged to and always would.
Black walls. Black countertops and cupboards. Black furniture.
Dull. Silent. Lifeless. More than it ever had been. Because now I had something to compare it to.
The air was warm, but I still felt cold.
It had been nice to pretend. Nice to soak in his warmth, his sounds, his color.
I’d walked through that door tonight and I’d seen him. So exposed. So vulnerable. So trusting. Perfect.
I’d touched him. Tasted him.
Lost myself.
Temporary. It had to be temporary.
I couldn’t have him.
He wouldn’t belong here with so much vibrancy.
My footsteps echoed off polished floors as I crossed the open space, to spotless glass and another thing that didn’t fit. So bright. Is that why Logan had chosen her? Because Celestine’s color and size didn’t fit in our world. She was what we could never have been.
Had Logan found color wherever he was?
My phone vibrated soundlessly in my pocket. I knew it was him before I unlocked it and opened the app.
1:20 a.m. B:
Home [smiley emoji]
1:20 a.m. B:
Already can’t wait to see you again.
I turned off the lights.
Then I was lying in a silent room, in a bed much too big for me, the only color the reflection of lights from the city beyond my windows.
I couldn’t have him. He didn’t fit.
In another life, maybe we could have been something.
Maybe he could have shown me more colors.
It would be smart to let him go. Before I got hurt. Before I hurt him. There was no way for this to ever be more than it was.
The city lights blinked out gradually. I watched each one. The room grew darker, the night colder. Quieter.
I was so tired.
Navy to cobalt.
Beep beep beep beep. Beep beep beep beep. Beep beep beep beep.
Monday. The weekend had passed as it always did. I stayed in my apartment, at my desk, with Aurelia for company.
Benny messaged me from the moment he woke up to the moment he went to sleep. He told me everything—what he was eating, the elements of his workout, how his nephews were doing in school.
It was information that shouldn’t have mattered to me, yet I found myself soaking it in far more eagerly than anything I was supposed to be working on.
My phone buzzed.
Initially, I hadn’t opened his messages outside the penthouse, but I’d since allowed myself to respond during travel time too.
6:50 a.m. B:
What did you have for breakfast?
It buzzed again seconds later—a picture of toast with peanut butter and banana, a pink smoothie to the side.
6:51 a.m. B:
If you say it was that bland-looking protein shake again, I will cry.
I snorted a laugh before catching myself, my eyes darting up to meet Matthew’s in the rearview mirror. He looked away.
6:52 a.m. H:
I won’t say it, then.
6:52 a.m. B:
That’s basically saying it.
6:52 a.m. H:
Basically saying it isn’t the same as saying it.
6:53 a.m. B:
I think it is.
6:53 a.m. H:
You can be wrong, then.
6:53 a.m. B:
[crying emoji] [crying emoji] [crying emoji]
6:54 a.m. H:
Fake crying will get you nowhere.
6:54 a.m. B:
It’s not fake.
An image popped up, and I inhaled sharply. It was his face—with eyes closed and his bottom lip turned down in a pout.
It was more of him than I’d usually see with his blindfold on. Even though his eyes were shut, I saw the slight bump on the bridge of his nose, like it’d been broken too many times. His thick eyebrows, perfectly straight and defined. His eyelashes were so long.
It wasn’t at all a convincing crying face.
6:56 a.m. H:
You should stick to working your muscles rather than your acting skills.
6:56 a.m. B:
I thought it was pretty good.
6:56 a.m. B:
Seriously, though.
6:56 a.m. B:
I’ll feel much better about my day if you eat something else too.
6:57 a.m. H:
Okay.
6:57 a.m. B:
And send me a picture.
6:57 a.m. H:
Why?
6:57 a.m. B:
I like to see what you see.
I switched the screen off, looking out the window at the world passing by. It was how I passed most travel time when I wasn’t working from my laptop.
My thumb tapped over my knee, a restlessness rising.
I turned to the seat next to me, to where Matthew had left me an apple, a sandwich, and a granola bar.
With a quick glance to check he wasn’t watching, I snapped a picture and sent it to Benny.
6:59 a.m. B:
How do I know that’s not lunch?
I don’t eat that either.
I picked up the sandwich, quietly unwrapping it and taking a small bite. Ham and cheese. So simple, it shouldn’t have tasted so good. I took a bigger bite, then snapped a picture, sending it to Benny.
7:00 a.m. B:
[blushing emoji]
7:00 a.m. B:
Your hand.
Shit. I opened the picture, scanning it to make sure there was nothing he could use to identify me. A sudden paranoia, as if “hand of Harper Lorens” would be written on it. But it was just a hand, holding a boring-looking sandwich that tasted really good.
7:01 a.m. B:
Send me your lunch too!
7:01 a.m. H:
Are you giving me orders, pup?
7:01 a.m. B:
Send me your lunch too?
I huffed.
7:03 a.m. H:
Have a good day.
7:03 a.m. B:
I have to now. Sir’s orders.
7:03 a.m. B:
Have a good day too. I’ll be thinking about you [smiling emoji]
I shoved my phone into my laptop bag, noticing there wasn’t much of the sandwich left. I finished it and looked up to see Matthew watching me in the rearview mirror. His eyes crinkled at the edges. I rolled mine in response and went back to looking out the window.
Tuesday. I was in trouble.
I’d told myself to stay off my phone. I’d told myself not to respond to him so quickly. Keep the distance. Keep my guard up. He didn’t fit. I couldn’t have him. I told myself all of it.
I was right, of course. Unfortunately, I was also nothing like Benny, and I had no respect for my own authority.
While I still refused to message him during work hours, that didn’t mean he stopped being on my mind. He was a distraction, and I couldn’t find it in me to be mad about it.
My father could. He could tell my mind was elsewhere, and he’d had much to say on the matter. I’d endured his tirades all afternoon. Yet rather than inspiring me to do better, they’d just made me think of Benny more. A mental escape.
Tanned skin. Firm muscles. Desperate moans. The clinking of chains. What color were his eyes?
“Send it to me to check over before you send it to the client,” my father instructed.
My thumb tapped against my knee. He didn’t trust me to do my job. All I did was work, and he still didn’t trust me to do it right.
Benny had trusted me with all of him, and he’d not even seen me.
“You aren’t listening.”
“I am listening,” I snapped. “All I do is listen.”
He wasn’t expecting it, eyes widening a moment before he masked it. “Lower your tone when you speak to me.”
I glared, my chest tightening as he glared back. The intensity of it made me feel like he could see right through me. Something dark and ugly twisted in my gut, pulling me down, making me smaller. I was sinking and guilt was rising. Why did it always feel like I was guilty of something?
My breaths came in shorter, faster. I looked away.
“Get out. I expect it done by the end of the day.”
I stood quickly, leaving his office as fast as possible.
Once I’d reached my own and closed the door, I pressed myself against it. My head thumped against the dark wood. My eyes burned. Something so small and I’d crumbled.
I was weak. Powerless. I always would be.
Except when I was with him.
I pulled my phone from my pocket. Fingers trembling as I opened V.
5:22 p.m. H:
What are you doing tonight?
Every second that passed with my phone in my hand waiting for him was a rebellion. One I was barely strong enough to carry through with.
5:24 p.m. B:
Hey! This is early for you. Is everything okay?
No.
5:24 p.m. B:
I’m not doing anything tonight. Family dinner got moved to tomorrow [smiley emoji]
5:24 p.m. B:
What are you doing tonight?
My heart beat like a war drum, signaling the start of something I wasn’t sure I was ready for.
5:25 p.m. H:
Meet me.
5:25 p.m. B:
I’d love to! I can leave now if you need me to?
5:25 p.m. H:
No. I need to finish work. After.
5:25 p.m. B:
Sure. Just let me know when [smiley emoji]
5:26 p.m. B:
Are you okay, though?
Breathe. You’re in control.
5:26 p.m. H:
I just want to see you.
5:26 p.m. B:
[blushing emoji]
5:26 p.m. B:
You can see me anytime you want.
No, I can’t.