Chapter 30
Ford
If I died today, I would die the happiest man alive, with the taste of Harper still lingering on my lips and the ghost of her fingertips branded across my skin.
Last night transcended any fantasy I’ve ever conjured. The way she trembled beneath me, her breath hot against my neck, her eyes locked on mine in that moment of perfect vulnerability. I expected the morning-after jitters, but I know her skittish behavior isn’t about lingering feelings for Asher.
It’s the guilt clouding her eyes. She’s terrified she’s become exactly what broke her heart: the betrayer instead of the betrayed.
Gina walks out behind Harper and gives me a thumbs up.
I’m relieved to have someone on my side, someone in Harper’s ear telling her this is a good idea, the right decision.
Honestly, I’m pretty sure I have the whole town rooting for us.
Harper and my names have never been linked together so often in casual conversation, and I love how we sound together—and how we came together.
Asher, however, does not seem to appreciate the idea of Harper and me as a couple. I’m convinced he’d stab me if he had a knife handy. “What is Ford doing coming out of your room without a shirt on?” Asher demands.
“I could’ve come out with nothing on, but this seemed most appropriate considering the audience,” I reply.
Gina giggles, but Harper looks horrified. Asher clenches his fists and asks, “You screwed my best friend?”
“Are you worried she’ll start comparing the two of you? Scared you won’t quite measure up to big ol’ Ford here?” Gina shoots back.
They’ve talked about me. I suspect the bratwurst comment Harper made twice refers to a certain part of my anatomy. My sausage, if you will. At least I’m not considered something smaller.
Harper glares at Gina, and I can’t help but smirk. But Gina’s raised eyebrow suggests Harper definitely enjoyed last night—maybe enough to let it happen again. And again.
“There’s no comparison between him and me. No one forgets their first,” Asher says.
The fact he has that accolade to throw in my face infuriates me. He was Harper’s first for everything, and I hate it. He didn’t deserve any of it.
“Asher, go find Kenzie,” Harper says. “I don’t think she’d appreciate overhearing this conversation.”
“Harper—”
“What I do or don’t do is none of your business, Asher. It hasn’t been since you decided to sleep with Kenzie while we were engaged.”
This is my chance, so I jump in with, “I think she means who she does or doesn’t do is none of your business.”
“Good one!” Gina exclaims, high-fiving me.
“Not helping,” Harper interjects.
Asher glares. “It is my business. You’re making a mistake, and I hope you’d consider my opinion after all the time we spent together.”
“Asher, I don’t care what you think anymore. I don’t care what you do. There’s nothing you can say that matters to me, and I want you to respect me the same way.”
“If I’m about to walk off a cliff, you would just let me? That’s where we’re at now?”
“I’d push you,” Gina mutters.
I snort, and Asher raises his fist, his knuckles white and trembling, veins bulging along his forearm like rivers on a map. Let him try. Right now, I’m floating six inches off the ground, drunk on the lingering scent of Harper’s vanilla perfume still clinging to my skin.
Last night, Harper’s body arched beneath mine like a perfect bow, her fingernails leaving crescent moons across my shoulders, her whispers hot against my ear.
The memory of her taste—sweet and salt mingled together—still lingers on my tongue.
We collapsed in a tangle of damp sheets, her honey-blonde hair spilling across my chest as she drifted to sleep in the circle of my arms. I could step in front of a moving train today, and I’d still die smiling.
Better yet, nothing Asher says or does can erase what’s etched into my soul now.
He may have had her first, stumbling through those awkward teenage moments, but if I play my cards right, I’ll be the one she chooses when all the dust settles.
I’ll be the name she whispers at eighty.
And that’s what truly matters, isn’t it?
“Harper! Gina! I need your help!” Lance calls.
Harper makes a quick exit while Gina lingers, glaring at Asher before winking at me. “I know all. Just think about that, Asher Andrews.”
“You’re never going to get Harper,” Asher growls at me when Gina’s out of earshot. “You may have had a night with her, but I won’t let—”
“She’s no longer your concern, so stop it. You don’t get a say in her life anymore. Not when you walked out for a lesser version of Harper,” I cut him off.
“She can’t love you. It’ll never happen, no matter what you try. You’re nothing more than a rebound.”
I may have been wrong about nothing taking away what happened last night. Asher’s words hit like a sucker punch to the gut, knocking the air from my lungs and the swagger from my stance.
He walks away with that confident stride of his, shoulders squared, while I stand rooted to the spot, my earlier euphoria crumbling like sand between my fingers.
Could there be some truth buried in that verbal dagger he twisted? Is that why Harper panicked this morning?
She has to know this is more than just tangled sheets and racing heartbeats to me. That she’s the north star I’ve been navigating toward since we were teenagers, and if I’m just a temporary harbor for her storm-tossed heart, it’ll shatter me into pieces too small to ever find again.
Damn it, Asher.