Chapter 7 - Jonah - Present
seven
Jonah - Present
LOYAL TO A GHOST.
Once the bar had closed, Harper waited for me to clean up. Marty hadn’t given him more than a glance when he’d shown up to take care of the money, so I assumed it was fine for him to be here until I was done.
It was weird walking anywhere with company. I was extra jumpy in the short time it took to get back to the hotel, and I concentrated on concealing my limp from Harper as much as possible.
If he noticed it, he didn’t mention it. He also, thankfully, hadn’t asked many more questions about me either. Maybe it was obvious they made me uncomfortable.
Harper had been standoffish at first, but now he’d decided to open up to me, he wouldn’t shut up.
He told me about the city, about his friends, about Benny Forrester and how he so wasn’t like what people would expect.
I wasn’t sure about that. A big man with violence issues as an MMA fighter kind of made perfect sense to me.
It was nice, though, just listening to him talk. Reminded me of when Becca would just talk at me. It filled the silence, and sometimes I really hated the fucking silence.
By the time we stopped out the front of my room, he was still talking.
I reached into my pocket for my key card and turned to say goodnight only to find him stepping closer to me.
Harper was so much shorter than me, but as he closed the distance between us, I shrank in on myself.
Pale blue eyes flicked from mine to my lips, and I swallowed heavily.
What was this?
Harper was pretty—he was really fucking pretty—and the rest of his body was probably just as beautiful. But now that we were here and he was looking at me like that, my gut twisted in discomfort, telling me I should not be taking this any further.
The first real chance I had at getting laid in a year and my conscience decided it wanted to stay loyal to a ghost. “Well… I think… we should probably go to bed, right? In our own rooms?”
His confusion was clear as he took a step back. “What? I thought… Have we not been flirting all night?”
I gawked at him. Had we? Had I? Sure, I’d checked him out a couple of times, but had I been flirting? It was just so nice to actually talk to someone that I hadn’t stopped to think about how that interest might have come across. “I uh… I can’t.”
Another long, assessing look. The feeling that he was seeing too much.
“You’re with someone?”
“It’s complicated.”
“Most things are,” he said quickly, echoing my words from the bar.
“Besides… I don’t think this…” I gestured between us. “Would work.”
“Why’s that?”
“I think we might have the same… preferences.”
“Preferences.” Despite nodding, his expression told me he was waiting for me to elaborate on that.
I grunted my frustration. “I’m a bottom, okay?”
Lips parted, and there was a flash of those perfect teeth before he forced the amusement back down. “And you assume I only bottom as well?”
Oh. “Oh.”
“It’s rude to stereotype, Doctor Bar Man. Don’t they teach you that in bar medical school?” His voice was playful.
“I uh… I shouldn’t have assumed. I’m sorry.”
“Pfft, don’t be. You’re not exactly wrong. I do like being the one with a cock up my ass. But what I do could hardly be classed as ‘bottoming.’”
Well fuck if that thought didn’t make my head spin, and if it wasn’t for the guilt that churned my insides at just the thought of finding out everything that entailed…
Harper huffed. “Good night, Bar Man.” He stepped forward and leaned up to place a soft kiss on my cheek. “It was really nice talking to you.”
“It’s… Jack, actually.” For the first time in a long time, I wished I could give someone my real name.
He smiled sweetly at me in response. “Good night, Jack,” he said before taking a step back and sauntering down the hall to his own door. I watched, somewhat stupefied, as he waved goodbye and disappeared into his room, closing the door behind him.
Well. That had been interesting.
Since the night I’d returned to find my door unlocked, I’d been extra vigilant in ensuring things were exactly as I’d left them. It hadn’t happened again, and I was beginning to think I really had just forgotten to lock it somehow that day.
When I was satisfied nothing was out of place, I showered off the day and any lingering thoughts of Harper. I was interested in him, that was undeniable, but I was interested in him the same way I had been in Becca. As a friend.
It was annoying.
I was on the run, but I wasn’t moving on. Part of me remained in the place that I’d fled, in hands that had once held me. Even if they were long cold now, he still held part of me. A part that would only ever belong to him.
When I collapsed into bed, I pulled out my phone to begin my nightly routine—looking up any news about Port Skelton, checking his social media. Everything was as it always was.
After that, I searched the name Harper Lorens.
I’m not sure what made me do it. I guess I just wanted proof that he was telling me the truth. I wanted to believe him about everything he’d told me.
Turns out I really should have heard of Harper Lorens.
Literal fucking billionaire heir to Lorens Industries.
Rich didn’t even begin to cover it. Everything he’d told me was true.
His pretty face was splashed over article after article, so many focused on his relationship with former MMA fighter Benny Forrester.
There were photos of them together, articles that pried deep into their personal business.
I couldn’t think of anything worse. There was nothing covering Benny’s true nature, though.
No pictures of Harper’s bruises… his abuse.
It was odd for me to feel protective of someone, to care about anyone but myself. Maybe it was because we were both on the run, something big and scary chasing after us in the name of love. Whether it was real or imagined, he was like me, and just knowing that made me feel less alone.
Alone was safe, though. I had to remind myself of that.