Chapter 14
Lark
Jell-O.
My body feels loose, limber, and pliable on the mattress and more at peace than I’ve ever been.
The clouds of my mind have cleared, though there’s a slight thunder in the temple of my brain, but then I remember him calling me baby last night.
Me, Lark Summerlin from small-town Beacon is Harbor Westcott’s baby, and all is wonderful in the world.
I giggle in delight but am quick to silence myself so I don’t wake the sleeping giant.
I roll over ready to kiss him awake, but I roll right onto my face instead of finding Harbor.
I open my eyes, hoping I’m wrong, but also to verify the bed is empty beside me.
My heart starts racing as a wave of emotions overwhelm my head.
My stomach turns from the sight of the spot where he lay when we fell asleep last night.
Wrapping my arm around it, I realize I need to cover more than my stomach.
Instead of lying there in my growing anxiety, I slip out from the covers, still wanting to prove my suspicions wrong. I grab my robe and punch my arms through as I swing my door open only to find the bathroom unoccupied.
Glancing left, I find Amanda’s door closed as usual, so I walk down the short hall. My hands begin to shake as I have the view of the entire apartment in my grasp.
And there’s no Harbor.
He left . . .
After what we did, what I was willing to give him, he still left me like I didn’t matter at all.
A deep hole I thought was long buried is exposed like it didn’t take me years to come to terms with someone abandoning me. Tears fill my eyes as my heart is squeezed a lot like I remember having the good memories ripped away from me back when I was little.
“Harbor?” I call for him like an idiot. He’s not here. I can see that with my own eyes. I feel weak and not the good kind like Harbor usually makes my knees. I grip the kitchen counter to support me, unsure why I’m feeling so off and more than only disappointed.
We’d agreed to date, to be exclusive, to use the cheesy terms of girlfriend and boyfriend, so why would he leave me without so much as a note?
I return to my room and grab my phone. No texts or missed calls. Tossing my robe off, I drape it on the bottom of the bed and climb back under the covers. It’s not even nine o’clock, which makes me wonder what time he left.
Sleep would be awesome, but I’m left lying here alone when I thought I’d be waking up with him. Such a disappointment.
The door creaks open. I roll away from it. “I’m sleeping, Amanda.”
“That’s too bad.” His voice is deep, the dulcet tones drawing me to sit up and turn back.
“Harbor?”
Carrying a tray with coffee and a bag on top, he shuts the door behind him. “Did you miss me?” That smile would usually work wonders on me, but the joy in seeing him still competes with the fact I thought he had abandoned me.
“I thought you left.”
“I did.” He sets the tray down on the dresser and pulls a cup from it. “I got us coffee from the shop downtown.”
“No, that’s not what I meant.”
He sits next to me, sets the bag down on the comforter, and hands me the cup. “What did you mean?” But the answer seems to come to him before I can reply. “You thought I left you, like not going for coffee but went home?”
“I—”
“You thought I’d do that to you even after last night?” He stands, the bag forgotten. Running his hand through his hair, he turns away from me.
I felt sick before, but now it’s worse, my guts twisting in knots. I get to my knees and touch his back. “Harbor, I don’t know what to say. I thought you had left.”
He turns back, looking down at me. “You thought the worst of me when I was thinking I would do something nice.”
“I feel terrible.”
“Because of me. You feel terrible because you thought I would sneak out in the night to get away from you.” Taking the bag, he drops it next to me. “No good deed goes unpunished. Enjoy the muffin.”
He’s about to leave, but I say, “Stay, Harbor, and let’s talk about it.”
When he turns back, the disappointment I felt minutes ago is personified in his eyes. I did that to him. The knot in my stomach pulls tighter. I slide down on the mattress again, and say, “Please.” It may only be a whisper of a request, but it reaches him by the way he drops his head.
As if his willpower is lost in the moment, he moves closer and holds me under my chin.
He angles my face upward, and our eyes connect in the morning light.
“Don’t grovel or make apologies. Not for me or anyone.
” His eyes meet mine in a moment of intention.
“You’re not a damsel in distress. You never were.
So if someone wants to go, don’t beg them to stay. ”
“But I misunderstood—”
“I know, but no one is worth sacrificing your pride.”
“Not even you?”
He sits on the bed beside me. “Especially not me.” With his hand on my knee, he sighs.
“I’ve disappointed so many people in my life, but I can’t handle disappointing you, Lark.
So if I need to walk away to figure some shit out, you need to let me because I won’t be any good for you otherwise.
” His arm comes around my shoulders, and he pulls me close.
Kissing my head, he then tilts down until he can see my eyes again. “I will always come back to you.”
Statements like those that he makes, ones that are definitive when spoken make me believe him. Through his honesty, I find my own power again. I’ll know what to do and what to expect next time.
But a flicker of pain shelters in the depth of his irises, one that doesn’t belong there. I’m not sure if it’s his trust I broke or the thought that I might have lumped him with his past that hurt him more.
Wrapping my arm around his, I lean my head on his shoulder. “Sometimes sorry isn’t a weakness but a strength. It all depends on the intention behind it. I’m sorry for thinking the worst, Harbor.”
He rubs my leg several times and then looks at me. “Don’t worry about it. As I said, I’m used to it.”
“I don’t want you used to it with me, though.” I sit up straighter, feeling the importance of the moment. “I was thrown, but it wasn’t you who caused me to get upset. It’s stuff that I need to work through.” I cover his hand with mine. “I trust you, Harbor.”
“Thank you.” Flipping his hand, I press our palms together on his leg. “Why did you leap to the worst conclusion first?”
Taking stock of my emotions, I don’t feel so empty with him. “So much has already been said. I think I just want to continue this some other time. Is that okay?”
“Of course.” Getting up, he takes his coffee from the tray, and then returns to sit back down. “You should drink your coffee before it’s cold.”
I take a sip, savoring the foam on top. “That was really sweet of you to go out to get these for us. I’m just surprised you were up so early.”
“I run in the morning before class. Waking up early is a habit now, even on the weekends.”
I get back in bed, sipping my hot drink while he starts to undress. Wow. That body is impressive. As soon as he climbs in next to me, he says, “I’m usually tired from a shift, so it’s easier to sleep in on the weekends.”
He hands me the bag. “You didn’t get a muffin?”
Sliding down until he’s lying flat next to me, he says, “I was starving for more of last night.” He winks with a click of his tongue. “But I decided to let you rest and settled for a muffin from the coffee shop instead.”
I nibble on the muffin, but seeing him lying there—tan, muscular, and so attractive—I set the rest on the nightstand and cuddle with him. A kiss here leads to placing one there, and soon enough, we’re kissing for the next hour.
Exhaustion catches up with us eventually, and we close our eyes, falling asleep together again.
“Oh my God!”
The door slams shut, causing both Harbor and me to bolt upright. My hand flies up to contain my heart before it beats right out of my chest.
We look at each other.
Shirtless.
A muss of hair that’s looking more like bedhead at this point in the day.
A jaw so cut that it shadows his neck.
Harbor Westcott is quite the delightful sight, every bit GQ model material, and he’s in my bed.
With his eyes set on mine, they both comfort and call me to him without exchanging a word. He asks, “Roommate?”
I shift closer to him, gliding my hand over his chest. “I think so. Sorry about that.”
“No worries. Do you need to let her know that you’re not being held hostage by a strange man in your bed?”
“Probably.” I slip out of bed and into my robe as I pad to the door. “I won’t be long.”
He tucks his hands under his head, watching me go. “I’ll be here.”
Glancing back, a surge of giddiness rolls through me at this sight of him. “You’ll have my undivided attention when I return.”
“I appreciate the declaration, but you should probably talk to your roommate to make sure she’s okay.”
“Yes, right . . .” He’s very distracting. I turn around and open the door. “Going to talk to my roommate.” I peek back. “Be right back.”
“I’ll be here.”
I close the door and instantly sink against it, feeling pliant all over again. I’m shocked I’m even standing after the past twenty-four hours.
The sound of the water running has me moving into the kitchen and rounding the corner.
“Aman—” I’m pinned to the fridge before I can scream.
A hand is clamped over my mouth and my best friend leans in so close our noses are practically touching.
Whispering, she asks, “Why do you have Harbor Westcott in your bed?”
My words are muffled because yeah, her hand is still blocking everything I say. She gets the hint and removes it, and I slide free. “How do you know Harbor?”
She looks at me like I’ve suddenly grown a third eye. “Everyone knows Harbor, Lark.”
“Guess I’m out of the loop because I didn’t know him until recently.”
She punctuates her dramatic eye roll with an exasperated sigh. “See? If you went out more, you’d know these things.”
“Apparently, going out doesn’t matter because I met him anyway.”
“And how exactly did you meet him?”
We’ve been whisper-yelling out of panic. I just wish I knew why we’re freaking out. I grab a paper towel to wipe my brow during the interrogation. “At TJ’s, but how do you know him?” I ask, dabbing my forehead.
“Parties.”
My stomach drops. “Have you hooked up with him?”
“No.” She flips her hair over her shoulder and then crosses her arms over her chest. “But thanks for assuming I have sex with every guy I meet.”
“I didn’t mean it like that. It just sounded like you knew him better than someone at a party.”
She laughs and reaches over my shoulder to get a glass from the cupboard. “I’m just giving you a hard time. Anywho—”
“Sorry to interrupt.” Harbor’s deep voice flows between us, and we turn toward the hall with a gasp to our breath. He’s leaning from around the corner, looking at me. “It’s coming up on noon. Do you think we’ll be staying in bed, Lark, or should I get dressed?”
“Don’t get dressed.” I throw my hand over my mouth and clench my eyes closed. Oh my God! I did not just say that. Unfortunately, I did. When I peek one eye open and then the other, I’m met with a stupidly handsome lopsided smirk. He’s trying to do me in one grin at a time.
I glance at Amanda, whose mouth is currently hanging open as she stares at him. “Oh, by the way, this is my roommate, Amanda.”
“And best friend,” she adds, raising her hand and then sticks it toward him. “Hi, I’m Amanda.”
“Hi, Amanda,” he says, his voice smooth like chocolate syrup.
Delicious. Coming from around the corner, he’s in jeans that didn’t manage to get snapped at the top and still shirtless.
I bite my bottom lip. Good lord, he’s amazing.
“I’m Harbor Westcott,” he adds as they shake hands.
A stolen glance at me has him smiling as if we have a shared secret.
I think we’ve shared a few in the short time we’ve known each other.
“You two grew up together?” he asks.
“Yeah, just east of Calhoun Road. You’re familiar with that area. I’ve seen you at parties over there.” Her eyes narrow in his direction. “I’m just not sure who our mutual friends are.” She raises an eyebrow, leaving the question she didn’t ask directly hanging in the air.
His hand finds the back of his neck, and he scratches. The lighthearted grin now gone as he looks at her, trying to place where he’s seen her before. “It’s been a while since I’ve been to that part of town.”
“Lucas Westcott,” she starts. “That’s how I recognize you.”
“Probably.” He shoves his hands in his pockets, but I notice him glancing at the door a few times. Discomfort? Wanting to run out the door? Hungry? I can’t read his needs right now and that bugs me.
Amanda says, “Seems like quite the drive from The Pointe Estates.”
His smirk is gone. “Lucas tended to look for trouble, always managing to find it in Beacon.”
She nods, but then says, “I knew him. Met him a couple of times. He was always nice to me. I was bummed to hear about his accident.”
“Accident?” I ask, stepping closer to Harbor, but when I search his eyes, I don’t feel the timing is right to lift the lid on that topic of conversation.
Not sure if it’s how he keeps looking for an escape though that’s a solid tip-off.
It’s more that the pain I saw a few hours ago has returned in the current circumstances.
“Another time,” he replies quietly.
I understand the need to push certain things away. I wrap my arm around Harbor’s and lean my head on his bicep. “I’m still tired, Amanda. We’re going to head back to bed.”
“Yeah, no problem. We’ll catch up later, Lark.” Just as we round the corner, she singsongs, “Have fun.”
“We will,” I reply innocently, and then I catch her drift and giggle.
Sunshine floods the room, leaving shadows of stripes across Harbor’s body as he sits on the bed. I ask, “How was meeting the roommate?”
“I think it went well, as well as it could since she was surprised to see me.”
I sit next to him, leaning my back against the wooden headboard. “I think you made quite the impression.”
He starts to laugh. “I bet.”
Reaching over, he takes my hand and brings it to his mouth. One kiss and then two more are placed on the top of it. It’s not sexy like the idea of sitting on a bed together might summon, but it’s sweet like first kisses and the excitement of newly dating should be.
He slides down lower, settling in again. Looking up at me, he slips a wry grin into place. “So what do you want to do today?”