The Attraction

Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven

FORREST

T his woman is going to kill me. Seriously.

I know part of it is my fault because I chose not to tell her the new information that we got from Ashton. I’ve never lied to her but keeping her in the dark is not entirely right either. But nobody knows about her nightmares, not even Harper.

My holding her in my arms every night when she starts to scream seems to be helping her in some way, as she wakes with no recollection of the trauma of the night before.

But I know that one day soon, that will all crumble too. She will either wake to me beside her, or she will remember something in the morning. I’ll deal with it when it happens, but in the meantime, I’m happy for it to be my secret that I carry part of her burden for her. I would carry it all if she would just share it with me.

Like today, something has rattled her, and although I didn’t help by storming in on her, she’s still holding her cards so close to her chest. I want to stand in front of her and demand she tell me, but I know that will just make her more closed off, and I can’t risk that. It takes all my strength not to be my normal abrupt self, but it’s hard. It’s my default.

Over the years, it has served me well, but now with Harper, it’s different, for two reasons. One, because it would just be throwing gas on the fire, but the second is because I don’t want to hurt her, I respect her too much. And that thought alone makes me look back and think. Was I so disrespectful with others and didn’t even realize it? I can’t worry about that now, but I know when things settle down, sometime soon hopefully, it might be something I need to circle back around to.

Walking away from her standing there in just a towel, her hair still wet and hanging down onto her shoulders, was hard. Droplets of water running down onto her skin from her wet hair looked sexy as hell.

The moment my lips touched her forehead, she tasted just like I remembered. Sweet and delectable. A taste I will savor until the next time I’m lucky enough to be so close to her.

I’m torn on what to do now. Should I stay here and watch over her or appoint security to the door and go back to the office to give her breathing space? When I return home later, she will pretend this afternoon never happened. That’s what she does.

I understand it but also need to find a way to break that habit with me. She can do it with everyone else, but I’m not having it with me anymore.

There has to be a way past both our boundaries.

My decision is made. I think I need space from Harper as much as she needs it from me after that interaction.

But just as I’m about to make a phone call to Rem to get security up here, I hear Harper getting closer to my office, where I retreated to after our discussion.

Looking toward the door, she appears in her cream track pants, a loose black comfy t-shirt, and a long cream knitted cardigan that she has wrapped over itself at her waist. It’s like I can see her at the moment. The cream is the light in her soul that is trying to wrap over the top of the black darkness, but it keeps peeking through the cracks, even when she tries to hide it.

Her gentle knock on the door, even though it’s open, is rather cute. The complete opposite to my barging through hers a few minutes ago.

“Forrest?” The shy uncertainty in her voice makes me ache for her. This is not Harper.

“Hey, do you need something?” I walk around my desk toward her.

“I’m sorry I worried you. I’m not used to answering to anyone.” The sincerity in her eyes tells me how much this whole thing is affecting her. Normally I would have just been given a mouthful of words telling me to back off and leave her alone. But this softness is concerning.

“You aren’t answering to me, Harper, you just need to take charge of your own safety. I’m just here to have your back in the process.” It’s like my words have registered with her to look at this in a different way.

“Thank you.” She nods and starts to walk away, when I have an idea.

“Do you want to do something fun to take your mind off whatever has upset you today?” The way she tilts her head a little at me, she looks curious but also perplexed. “I know, I’m not the entertaining guy in this group of friends.” In my head, I’m laughing at my use of the word friend, because I would like to add the word boy . But that’s not who I am to her in her eyes. We haven’t quite got past that dreaded friend word yet.

“Well, luckily, I’m funny, so that’s okay. What did you have in mind?” I can see the tightness in her shoulders relax just a small amount.

“Hmmm, I’m not sure about that, but let’s not get stuck debating who is the funniest. Come with me.” Reaching out and taking her hand in mine seems so natural to me, but I can feel the tenseness in her hand. Needing to push her a little out of the comfort zone she has lived too long in, I just start walking, and she doesn’t pull away thankfully and instead follows me.

I open the door to my playroom, turning on the lights and pushing the button I had installed that turns on the power to all the machines at once. The noise is instant and makes Harper jump a little.

The tunes of all the game machines coming to life make it sound like an eighties gaming arcade.

“Lucky I don’t have a problem with light and noise. Wow, this is a lot,” Harper says as she tentatively enters the room.

“Yeah, a lot of fun and stress relief.” I don’t know why I started collecting vintage games, but once I bought the first one on a whim, the enjoyment I had for hours that night, I knew I was addicted. It took my brain completely away from all the responsibility and stress of my everyday world. I was back in the moment as a child where nobody cared about who I was and what I was doing in my spare time. I was quiet and not causing any trouble, and that was all my parents were worried about.

“Come on, pick one and let’s play.” I follow behind her as she walks around, running her hand on the top of the machines.

“You do know I’m American, right,” she says, looking over her shoulder with a small smile on her face finally.

“Technically, even though you were brought up in England. But what has that got to do with anything?” I’m confused where this conversation is going.

“We invented the pinball machine, therefore my genetics alone says I will be better at this than you.” She turns to me, and her body language has changed, like she is ready to take on a challenge.

“Oh, those are fighting words if I’ve ever heard them. Alright, show me how much of a pinball superstar you are. Pick your weapon, little miss expert.” I wave my hands around at the four different pinball machines I have. There are many other arcade games in here too, but we can play them later.

“Well, of course I’m going to choose the most American one. It’s red, white, and blue and has the iconic Harlem Globetrotters on it. There is no way you can beat me on this one.” The corners of her lips are now getting higher, and that smile is like she doesn’t have a worry on her mind.

“I’m just warning you, I have the highest score on this machine,” I tell her as I step close behind her as she puts both her hands on the flipper buttons and gives them a push. “But you are welcome to try your best,” I whisper in her ear, my hands on the machine and my body wrapping around hers, letting her feel every muscle in my body leaning on hers. Just for a few seconds, and then I back away before she has time to panic or say anything.

“I’ll be a gentleman and let you go first.” Walking to the side of the machine, I slip off my suit jacket and roll up my shirt sleeves. “This is serious competition, I need to be ready for all the action. I mean, you are at a slight disadvantage in what you are dressed in, but I won’t handicap you for that.” I watch her take off her cardigan that no more than ten minutes ago she was wearing as armor, and now she throws it to the side on a couch that sits along the wall.

“If it’s that serious, what are we playing for? There has to be a wager.” That glint I love so much is back in her eyes now.

“Oh, that’s dangerous territory. I’m not sure you would like the things I pick.” My mind is racing with all the options I could use. And I bet it’s not what she’s thinking.

Her little giggle is such a relief to hear. “You’re a guy, I know exactly what you would pick, and it would involve getting naked. But that is off the table, so you better rethink, mister.” She pokes her finger into my chest, and it’s so nice to see her playful side coming out.

“Well, I hate to say you’re wrong, but… you’re wrong. So, let’s start with an easy one.” I lean back and sit on the arm of the couch next to the machine. “The person who wins this game gets to ask the other person something about themselves and they have to answer honestly. It can be as silly or as serious as you like. Like how can you still eat avocado?” Which is enough to have us both laughing, and it takes the sexual premise out of the discussion—well, sort of.

“Game on, and get ready for me to bombard you with questions when I win,” she says proudly as she pulls the ball launch back and lets it go, and the first ball shoots up into the playfield part of the machine. The relaxing sounds of it hitting different targets start running through the room. The machine’s music is playing the theme song, “Sweet Georgia Brown” of the Harlem Globe Trotters, and you can’t help but smile when you hear it.

Looking at Harper, she has such intense concentration and is throwing her whole body into this. The ball bounces around, and every time I think she is done for, she manages to get the flipper to hit it just right, and it bounces back up into the game and racks up plenty more points. I’m sure it’s beginner’s luck, but she’s actually scoring well for her first ball.

The first ball finally escapes through the flippers, and she looks at me, so satisfied with her first number of points. She steps back to give me room to take my turn.

“First ball, baby, don’t get too cocky.” So casually, I send the ball shooting up into the machine and go about accumulating as many points as possible. I mean, I’m not above letting her win to make her happy, but not on the first game. I need to live up to my reputation, and besides, she would never ever let me live it down.

“Yes!” she yells as my ball disappears, and I haven’t managed to get higher than her on my first time.

Her hand lands on top of my arm and strokes me like a cat. “Don’t worry, baby, it’s just the first ball.” Her smugness is oozing from her as she pulls the plunger, full concentration on her second ball. The more she plays, I have this underlying suspicion that she may have some pinball experience that she didn’t disclose.

We both get through our second ball and my score is better. I’m just above hers now, but I need to bring it home with the last ball. Harper steps up for her turn, and I can’t help but notice the change in how relaxed she is.

“Not so vocal now, are you?” I ask, trying to put her off as she pulls back the plunger and lets the ball shoot off. But this woman has the concentration of a fighter pilot and doesn’t even acknowledge what I said.

The ball hits every bonus point, and the numbers are just rolling higher and higher. Shit, this is going to get interesting.

“Let’s see how good you are now, Mr. Pinball.” She walks to the side of the machine as I stand in front, ready to play my last ball. I find the fighting spirit of this woman so attractive, even if it’s only in a game.

“Oh, you’re going to regret that sarcasm, baby,” I reply.

“I’m not your baby.” She gives me the sexiest smile, and I think I might be finally breaking down some of the wall that she has been holding up between us.

“But you could be.” I wink at her, and not giving her a chance to reply, I shoot the ball, and it’s game on. I’m working the machine hard and using every trick I have to keep my points moving up toward her total. I’m getting close, but for the first time in a game, I can feel the sweat on my brow. I didn’t realize how competitive I would be with Harper, but it’s making my adrenaline race, and I love it.

I can hear her mumbling next to me the closer I get to her total, and it makes me more determined.

The moment it happens and I race past her score, she cries out. “Damn it! I almost had you!” Her voice distracts me, and the ball is gone and it’s game over.

“Yes! Mr. Pinball reigns supreme,” I cry, throwing my hands in the air in victory.

“Best out of three.” She is right beside me, ready to take over the machine again.

“Sure, but that doesn’t get you out of answering my question.” Harper rolls her eyes at me as if to say, do I have to? “That was the bet, and I’m sure you are not someone who reneges on a bet, are you?”

“Of course not.” She stands with her hands on her hips, and I know that I need to ease into this and save the big questions for later.

“Good. Question number one is…” I tap my fingers on my chin, and I look toward the ceiling like I’m thinking hard. But the reality is I have so many questions that I just don’t know where to start.

“What is your perfect way to relax?” I’m pleased with myself that I have shocked her. I know she was expecting a hard question or something sexual.

“Really, that’s your one question you ask when you get a free ticket, and I have to answer? What a wasted opportunity, but okay.” She steps away from the game, and as confident as she was, the longer she thinks about it, she is struggling to answer.

“To be honest, I’m not really sure I have one. Sure, I love a massage or facial, but I can never completely switch off my brain while they are being done on me. Ummm, I don’t really read, and who’s got time to binge too much television. I thought this was a stupid question, but to be honest, I don’t have a real answer. I’ve never had time to find out.” She looks at me, perplexed.

“Well, then that’s a great answer, and it looks like we need to spend some time finding that thing that is perfect for you.” I tap her on the nose with my finger, not letting her dwell too much on that thought or the fact I touched her again.

“Okay, cutie, next game, see if you can beat the master.” I watch her nose scrunch up at my words.

“Ughh, the word cutie is a big fat no,” she says, turning her attention back to the next game.

“Oh, don’t worry, I have plenty of names. We will find the right one by the time we get to the end of this competition.” To which she just laughs at me and starts off with the first ball of the next game.

“I’m sure you do, and I’ll hate all of them.” This time she talks while playing, like she is in the groove of the game now.

“Oh, challenge accepted.” I let out a deep throaty laugh that feels so good to share with her.

I hate what is happening to Harper with her stalker, but I can’t feel sad that we are getting this time to get to know each other in a way that never would have happened otherwise. Let’s be honest, if I had called her either of those names six weeks ago, she would have torn me apart with a barrage of words or slapped me, one or the other.

But the more time we spend together, the more she is opening up to me in small ways. Not anything that she notices, but to me, they are huge steps. If we are ever going to be more than explosive sex and personalities that challenge each other, then it will be the little things that are important. Times like this, just carefree and fun, no superficial personality put on, no stress of what needs to be done, just a gap in time to breathe.

Letting her win this game is going to hurt my reputation, but I don’t care, it will be worth it to see what she asks me.

“Oh, not so spectacular this time. Guess it’s my turn to delve into the deep dark secrets of Mr. Taylor.” There’s pure delight on her face, and I can tell she knows exactly what she wants to ask.

“Bring it on, sweetheart.” I lean one hand on the pinball machine, my ankles crossed.

“Have you ever been in love?” And her face softens, as she knows she has asked something hard.

“Shit, you certainly aren’t wasting your win, are you?” I look at her, while in my head, so many words are rushing around on how to answer that.

I want to say I think I’m getting there, but that is not the answer she will want, and to be honest, not something I’m ready to share yet… with anyone.

“No.” It’s a simple as that.

“What, just one word? I think you owe me a better answer than that.” And she’s right, but how do I describe what I mean?

I take a moment before finally starting to talk.

“Have I been in lust, yes, but love, I don’t think so. I have been in a few short relationships, but when I look back, they were more like conveniences for both of us. And how I know this is that it never hurt to walk away, so I think that is a pretty good sign.” Taking a breath, it’s like I need her to understand a part of me that I don’t share with people. “Do I know what love feels like—you know, that deep love people talk about and that I see now in my brother and friends? No, I don’t. Am I looking for it? Absolutely. Because there is something pulling at me, telling me it’s time to let someone behind my barrier that I have. I don’t know if it’s my age or what, but I want to have a life now that is more than just work. Don’t get me wrong, I will always be a workaholic, but there is something missing, and I think it’s someone to love and to be loved by them in return.” I swallow hard as I’ve bared my soul to her. “So, yeah, that’s my answer.”

Already I can feel my heart retreating behind that barrier again. That is much more than I have ever let myself feel, let alone tell another soul. And not just any soul, it’s Harper.

“Good answer,” she whispers and turns straight to the machine and pulls the plunger back hard, totally focused on the game. Did I want more from her? Probably, but truthfully, was I ready to hear her words on love? No, I doubt it.

I’m not ready for her to ask a hard-hitting question like that again just yet, so I make sure I win the next game and make it something light in my next question, and of course, my next pet name.

“Okay, pumpkin, ready for your question?” I watch as she almost spits out the water she was drinking from the bottle out of the drinks fridge I keep in here.

“That is so yuck. Oh my God, am I ten years old?” She dabs her clothes with the clean handkerchief I pulled from my pocket for her.

“I guess I’ll strike a line through that one on my list then.” I laugh at her reaction on a name I would never use for her, but it’s fun just pushing her buttons on this.

“Along with any other cringy names on there too. Wait, hang on, you have a list of pet names you call women?” She shakes her head at me.

“Oh, you should see it, it’s pages long. I’ve been building it for years, waiting for a chance to use them,” I say, trying to keep a straight face as she looks at me, so confused.

“Really, is that true?”

“Fuck no. But the look on your face was worth it.” I laugh as I walk to grab myself a bottle of water too.

“I thought you said you weren’t funny.” She pulls her legs up onto the couch where she is sitting and makes herself comfortable.

“Oh, I’m hilarious,” I say, taking a sip of water, and then continue. “Now, since I won this game and the match, by winning two out of the three games, I think that entitles me to two questions. So here is the first one.” Watching her about to protest my two questions, I step closer and lean over to place my finger on her mouth which stops her completely. A little gasp of air between her lips is enough to turn the heat up a notch in my body. “What is your favorite food, and I swear to God, if you say a protein shake, I’m going lose my shit, woman.”

“It’s not fair if you tell me I can’t answer truthfully,” she responds with that glint in her eyes that she gets when she is about to be a smartass.

I slap my forehead playfully.

“Okay, okay. If you are talking serious adult food, then I would have to say a perfectly cooked steak, medium, with mashed potatoes and some steamed vegetables and a nice sauce over the top. I know it’s not what you were expecting, but I grew up in a house where meat was on the menu a lot. But if you are talking about what’s my favorite indulgence food, it’s going to be a weird one, but it’s a perfect piece of carrot cake with the cream cheese icing on top. Oh, nothing beats it with a hot cup of tea.” I can see her tasting it on her tongue while she thinks about it.

“You’re right, it’s not what I was expecting, but I wouldn’t say it’s weird. Where is the best place to buy your carrot cake?” I’m expecting some little boutique bakery somewhere she has been on her travels.

“Don’t laugh, but it’s Pret , you know the sandwich chain shop. They come in these perfect little packages.” She looks a little shy at her answer.

“Of all the places you have traveled in the world and your indulgence is from an English sandwich chain store. Why?” I’m so curious to know.

“It will sound silly, but when my I was younger, my dad would come to visit me at boarding school and take me out for a walk down to the Pret at the end of the street and we would have lunch, a cup of tea, and then he always bought me a piece of cake to take back to my room for a little treat later that night when I was in bed studying. It was our little thing. And it’s just something I have held on to.” Shrugging her shoulders, she doesn’t want to admit that a part of her still loves her dad and misses him, but I understand that. I’m sure it must be such a mixture of emotions.

“Well, I can’t say I have ever had one, but now I might just have to try it the next time I walk past one.” That earns me a smile from Harper.

“I want to argue the point about the second question, but I know you will just call me a cheat, so come on, let’s have it.” She gestures that she’s ready for it. I doubt she is, but I’m asking it anyway.

I sit down on the couch next to her, and laying my arm along the back of it, I ask in a gentle voice, “Do you truly hate your father, or is it just easier to say that so you don’t have to feel the hurt?” I almost regret coming in with this type of question, but if we are ever going to be more than friends, we need to ask the tough questions like she asked me.

Harper’s eyes are wide, and I’m not sure she is breathing so easily anymore. “I can’t…” she mumbles.

“You can, just let the words fall.” I take her hand, holding it gently, and she doesn’t pull away, which I love.

“Yes.”

“Yes to which part, more words, Harper,” I coax, rubbing my thumb softly over her hand.

“Yes, I hate him… but I don’t want to. But if I let the love come to the surface, then it brings too much pain with it. So, it’s easier to hate him for what he did. And it’s the right thing to feel. What he did was awful, and I’ve never heard someone cry with so much hurt as I did back then from my mother, when she couldn’t even get out of bed to feed herself, let alone me. I never thought she would get through it. But then after we moved into an apartment the Kentwalls owned, each day Felisha’s mum would turn up, and things were getting a little easier, until…” I can see tears are filling her eyes, but she doesn’t let them fall.

Her mouth opens, but no words come out.

“Until you father was murdered.” I squeeze her hand a little tighter, reminding her that I’m here and won’t let her fall. “I’m sure it’s hard, and I can’t begin to understand what you went through, but one day when you feel it’s the right time, I’d like to know about your father. Because the way I look at it, people make mistakes, and he paid the ultimate price. But I’m sure he was a good man before that, because there is no way you grew up to be this strong, beautiful, and awesome without some of your dad inside you.” Letting that sink in a little, it’s time to help her move past this thought.

“Okay, I have one other question that has nothing to do with the game, but I have been dying to know. What the fuck were you listening to the other morning that was talking about avocado lube?”

Harper just looks at me and can’t help but start laughing.

We both start laughing so hard, and she hasn’t even realized that I still have her hand in mine.

“Oh, that wasn’t even the worst. I just can’t even, I mean, the things that people do and say are just so crazy.”

We then spend the next hour talking and laughing at things that have been on that podcast. No wonder it rates so well, because no matter how stupid something is, it still gets you laughing, and right now, that feels good for both of us.

Grabbing my phone, I order some Thai food to be delivered, and we spend the next few hours playing all my machines. And I didn’t even hesitate to eat in the playroom which is so not like me. I’m so fastidious about keeping the machines in pristine condition, but tonight, I couldn’t care less. Harper makes me reckless in the best possible way, making me stop living by my own stupid rules. It’s the most fun I have had in a very long time. Especially with Harper being so competitive, which meant more bets being made, but we agreed no more hard questions tonight.

When we are finally at the point it’s tied games between us, Harper’s yawn tells me it’s time for both of us to pack up and head to bed. The night has gotten away from me, and although I know I should be finishing the work I ran out and left this afternoon, for the first time, I don’t want to. Going to sleep with tonight’s memories sounds like a far better idea.

After cleaning up our takeout containers, we head down the hallway together, stopping at her door.

“Thanks for tonight, I had fun.” Her hand on the doorknob, she twists it and pushes it open, stepping one foot into the room as I reply, “Me too.” I really mean it.

Just as I go to step away, she turns back to look at me from inside her room before she shuts the door for the night. “Why do you touch me all the time?” Her voice is little more than a whisper.

“Because it’s impossible not to. Good night, beautiful.”

Now that’s a name, surely, she can’t object to.

Moving my feet toward my bedroom is the hardest thing I’ve ever done, but deep down, I know it’s the right thing to do.

For now.