Chapter 31
I pace up and down Sixty-Second Street. I drag my hand through my hair. I stare at my phone again.
I am not jealous that she’s with Simon. I am not annoyed.
I check my texts again.
Princess: Running late. I helped them clean up and then had to grab a coffee after the party.
I will my teeth to unclench. I let go of the jealousy roiling inside me. Harper is a friend, and I won’t lose her as a friend.
I think of my dad and his yoga mantras, his calm demeanor.
The guy is unruffled, and he takes everything in stride.
Yup. That’s me. Life is good, I’m a lucky bastard, and I’m as cool as Saturn’s surface with the fact that Harper is getting a coffee with Simon before I take her to Grand Central Station for God knows what reason.
Besides, I’ve got my own coffee. So there.
When Harper rounds the corner, clutching a paper cup, the Hemsworth dad by her side, his hand wrapped around into his daughter’s smaller one, I take a deep, fueling breath.
Because you know what? He’s better for her than I am. She likes kids. She wants kids. She’s really good with them. I didn’t even know what a Braxton Hicks contraction was.
If I’m going to be her friend, I have to let this envy go.
They stride up to me, and I paste on my biggest, brightest, happiest, shit-eating, nothing-is-fucking-wrong-with-me smile. “Hey Harper. How are you?” I turn to Thor and say hello. “How’s it going, man? Was the party good?”
Hayden goes first. “It was the best ever. Anna the Amazing did the coolest tricks.”
“She was incredible,” Simon says, chiming in, and nope, I totally don’t want to put chicken bouillon in the showerhead in his bathroom. Nope. I don’t want to swap out his deodorant for cream cheese. Because really, I haven’t done that shit since I was sixteen and pranking Wyatt.
I’m a grown man, and I don’t need to beat my chest or stoop to that level. Besides, I can be Harper’s friend, even if she dates this dude and wears her butterfly panties for him.
Smoke billows out my eyes as that image evilly taunts me. I crush the coffee cup in my hand, and the remnants of my drink squirt all over the sidewalk.
Oops.
Hemsworth: one. Nick: zero.
“Everything okay?” Harper asks as I toss the cardboard cup in the trash can then try to wipe the drink from my hands.
I laugh it off. “Shouldn’t have upped the weights at the gym this week. Didn’t realize how strong my forearms were getting.”
“My daddy is strong, too,” Hayden says and grabs Simon’s arm and holds it up. Yeah, he’s a candidate for arm porn, too. Curses. “He’s a super star!”
“That’s what she calls me,” Simon says, in an “aw shucks” manner, and it is not fair that this guy looks like a movie star and is humble, too. It’s like finding out your favorite athlete gives all his money to animal charities.
“It’s adorable,” I say, and I’m sure no one can hear the acid in my voice. I’m masking it so well. Besides, Harper won’t even notice. She’s probably blushing and unable to speak around the man she really wants.
“Simon,” she says, turning to him. “Thank you for the coffee. And I know Abby is going to be so excited to hear from you. She finishes with her current family next week, and she’s one of the best nannies so she’ll be in demand. You need to snap her up.” Harper snaps her fingers and laughs.
Simon laughs, too. “I’m calling her as we speak.”
What the hell did I just witness? Harper didn’t babble. She didn’t speak in tongues. She didn’t freak out.
“Well, not technically as we speak,” she says, making a joke.
“You got me on that one.”
“Okay, I need to run.” She bends to Hayden and pretends to pull a pack of mini Skittles from her ear. “Special gift from Anna the Amazing for the birthday girl.”
Hayden’s eyes widen, and she clutches the candy. “I love Skittles! They’re my favorite.”
“I know,” she says then waves good-bye to her. She shifts her gaze to her crush. “Fingers crossed that it’ll all work out.”
He twists his index and middle finger together.
“See you later, Harper.” He extends a hand to me. “Good to see you again, Nick. Congrats on your show doing so well. Harper mentioned it to me. She’s proud of you.”
“Thanks,” I say as Simon walks away with his daughter, and I cock my head, trying to figure out this strange creature in front of me with red hair, wearing Harper’s clothes.
Her massive bag is on her shoulder so I’m pretty sure she’s not an impostor, but I have no clue how she pulled off that trick of acting normal.
Unless . . . she’s no longer into him. Which would be the best news ever .
. . except she only wants to be friends with me.
But wait.
Let’s think about that.
Let’s add up all the facts.
Last night at my house when she was bent over the couch, she was a lot more than friendly. When she rode me into her third climax of the quartet I gave her, she was much more than cordial. As she cried out, Oh Nick, no one makes me feel like you do, that sounded a touch warmer than simple fondness.
And it felt like a lot more than lessons in seduction. It felt like much more than mind-blowing sex. It felt like we were falling for each other.
Maybe I should take another swing.
“Should we hail a cab?” I ask, thrusting a hand in the air. “Sometimes they come faster here than Uber.”
“Good idea. Especially since everything ran late after the party.”
An image flashes before my eyes of her working the kid’s party. “Where’s your cape?”
She pats the bag. “It’s in here.”
“You do wear a cape for your shows, right?”
She nods and smiles. “I do.”
A bolt of lust slams into me. I can’t help myself. I blurt out, “I bet you look hot in a cape and nothing else.”
“Generally, I don’t wear my cape with nothing else,” she says.
I raise an eyebrow. “Would you for me?”
“I would,” she says, as the yellow cab arrives. I open the door and slide in after her. The door slamming rings in my ears, and it hits me. The game’s not over until the final at bat.
“Can we talk about the elephant in the cab?”
Her eyes light up. “Sure.”
I point my thumb behind us, in Simon’s direction. “English. You’ve acquired full use of the language around Simon.”
She nods happily. “I’m cured, evidently. Your lessons eradicated my little affliction.”
“Oh,” I say, my heart sinking as I strike out on pitch one. Guess that means she can behave normally around guys she likes. “We got rid of Princess Awkward. I’m gonna miss her though,” I say, trying to keep the mood light.
“Yeah, me too,” she says, sighing wistfully, then flashing a huge I’ve-got-a-secret grin. “But that’s not the only reason I’m cured,” she says, and wraps her hand on my arm.
I hate that sparks fly inside me from that touch. I wish they’d stop. “What’s the other reason?”
She shrugs happily and squeezes my bicep. “I don’t like him anymore. In fact, when he asked me out for coffee last weekend via text, I turned him down.”
And we’re back in business. Angels sing. The heavens burst open. Candy rains down from the sky.
“That so?” I ask, the corner of my lips twitching up in a grin.
“That is so,” she says, all sexy and naughty and inviting.
“The reason I was running late, as you probably ascertained, is that I helped clean up so we could talk about my friend Abby, since he needs a new nanny for Hayden. His ex-wife is hardly around at all, and he does most of the parenting. He bought me a coffee to say thanks.”
“I did ascertain that. I also think it’s incredibly hot that you just dropped a crossword-puzzle word into casual conversation.”
“I did it because I knew you’d like it,” she says, and runs her fingers up the back of my neck and into my hair. Those sparks? They don’t just fly. They torpedo across my skin. They race through me. I’m so far gone for her, it’s ridiculous.
How did I ever think I could just let her walk away? I can’t, no matter who her brother is. I’ll just have to sort out that little snag another time.
“I like it. I also really like that you’re not into him,” I say, as I lean my head back into her hand, turning my face to meet her gaze.
“Why does that make you glad?” She inches closer to me as the cab swings around the corner, nearing the train station.
“Because I’m a greedy bastard, and I want you to myself,” I say, and it’s not a full-on admission of all that I feel, but it’s a start, and that’s how I’m going to have to take things with her. Step by step.
“You have me. Don’t you know that? I couldn’t do the things we’ve done in bed and feel that way about anyone else.
I swear, Nick, I haven’t felt a thing for him since well before the night you kissed me.
Since well before I sent you the pencils.
Since before the laundry detergent, even.
And I never ever felt a thing for Jason. ”
My heart thumps hard against my chest, fighting its way to her. “I fucking loved it when you gave me laundry detergent,” I tell her, my eyes never leaving hers.
“I thought I wasn’t your type. That you preferred older women,” she says, on a whisper.
I shake my head, heat spreading across my skin. “My type is you,” I say, and her blue irises glow with excitement, maybe even a wild kind of happiness.
“You’re my predilection,” she says, a little flirty, and fuck, now I’m even more turned on, and feeling like I can walk on water.
The cab squeals to a stop at the train station, and I thrust some bills through the window. I get out with her.
“I need to catch a train or I’ll be late,” she says, her tone full of longing.
“Come over when you’re back.”
“I get back really late tomorrow.”
“I don’t care how late it is. I want to see you.”
“I want to see you, too.”
I tilt my head to the side. “Why did you want me to take you to the train station?”
Her lips quirk up. “Because I fuck seeing you.”
I crack up. “Harper Holiday, I fuck seeing you, too.” I cup her cheeks in my hands and kiss her.
This kiss is different. It’s as hot as all of them have ever been, but there’s something intangible in it, too, a quality that digs down deep into my chest, that burrows into my bones.
An inevitability, and unlike last night, it doesn’t feel like the end.
It feels like a promise of more to come.
She breaks the kiss and turns to go, then she swivels around once more and slides her arm around my waist, tipping up her chin to meet my eyes. “There’s one thing I want in bed that we haven’t done yet.”
“Name it.”
“I’m on the pill,” she says and knocks the wind out of me. I nearly sway on the busy street outside the train station. “And I’m negative.”
“Same. I’ve been tested,” I add, my throat dry. The possibility of feeling her bare is almost too much. I’m not sure how I can function on any level between now and tomorrow night.
“Can we sleep together without a condom when I see you tomorrow?”
I nod. “I’ve never done it without one.”
“I’ll be your first?” Her voice rises with excitement.
“Yes.” I’m dying to tell her that she’s the first in so many things. First woman I’ve ever felt this way about. First woman I’ve ever cared about more than my work. First woman who’s inspired a cartoon just for fun.
She presses one last kiss to my lips, murmuring, “I can’t wait.”
She leaves, and I’m pretty sure the next thirty-six hours will be the longest of my life.
Because . . . bare.