8. Harper
Chapter 8
Harper
Oh my God, what just happened? I don’t remember coming up the stairs but I must have because I’m standing in my bedroom with my head reeling. I pull on warm clothes—leggings and a long, floppy sweater that can almost work as a mini skirt, and sit at the dresser to dry my hair.
But the image of Jude’s sculpted lips and intense black eyes keep filling my mind.
He’d kissed me. Well, almost. He’d definitely been about to. And unless he was hiding a stick of salami inside his boxers for a pool-side snack, that was his dick I felt pressing against me.
This can’t be happening. It’s wrong on so many levels, I can’t even.
And he videotaped a couple having sex? In the few weeks I’ve been here, Jude’s never had friends over. I’ve never even heard him talking on his phone. I’m pretty sure he doesn’t have a girlfriend, and I was starting to think he was as much a loner as I was. But you wouldn’t ask a complete stranger to film you and your boyfriend, would you?
I can’t wrap my head around any of this. Especially since the booze has fully kicked in. I do the best I can for my hair, but all I really want right now is something sinful to eat.
As I stick my head out of my bedroom, a crash of lightning makes me almost jump out of my skin.
What would have happened if...?
But I force the thought from my mind. No point dwelling on that. We’d both been a bit tipsy. Both a little curious, maybe. He’d seen me in my underwear, I’d seen him in his. It’s just hormones, right?
I stand in the hall, looking left, then right. One leads to the kitchen via the stairs...the other to Jude’s room. I should apologize, right? It was me that started with the whole Truth and Dare thing. He didn’t even want to play. And I was such an ass about it, too, asking after his mom. I nod and press my hands against my cheeks. The booze is burning through my body.
And it gives me the courage I need to go up to Jude’s door and knock.