Chapter 32
THIRTY-TWO
I couldn’t sleep, and it had nothing to do with the euphoria of making it into the fellowship.
My roommates had thrown me an impromptu celebration after I’d shared the news with them, complete with champagne and Rachel’s homemade cupcakes, but even that hadn’t quieted the buzzing under my skin.
And I was positively tortured by all the what-ifs.
What if she hadn’t woken up? What would have happened? Would he have closed the distance between us and kissed me like I was now sure I wanted him to?
I tossed my pillow across the room in frustration, watching it bounce off my dresser and knock over a framed photo. I was acting like a lovesick teenager, obsessing over a boy instead of celebrating the biggest achievement of my musical career.
Except Drew wasn’t just any boy. And this was so much more complicated because of who he was.
God, if my parents found out, they’d lose their shit.
I flopped back onto my bed, grabbing my phone from the nightstand. I’d been fighting the urge to text him for hours. What would I even say? Hey, just wondering if you were also thinking about how we almost kissed yesterday?
My thumb hovered over the messaging app. This was ridiculous.
The fact that I couldn’t stop fantasizing about his hands in my hair or his lips on mine was just temporary insanity.
But what if it wasn’t?
Before I could talk myself out of it, I texted him.
Me
Are you awake?
I hit send before I could overthink it, then immediately regretted it. It was after one in the morning. He was probably fast asleep like any normal person would be. Or maybe he was up with Rory. Either way, he’d see my pathetic middle-of-the-night text and—
My phone buzzed.
Andy
Yeah. Can’t sleep.
My heart stuttered. Was it because of Rory? Or because he was being tortured by thoughts of our almost-kiss like I was? I stared at the screen, watching as the typing indicator appeared, disappeared, then reappeared.
Andy
Congrats again on the fellowship. I’m so fucking excited for you.
I smiled, warmth spreading through my chest.
Me
Thanks. Still doesn’t feel real.
Andy
It’s real. You earned it.
I bit my lip, wondering what to say next. The typing indicator appeared again.
Andy
I came by your place last night. Saw you celebrating with your friends through the window.
I sat up in my bed as my breath caught. What?
Me
Why didn’t you come in?
Andy
Didn’t want to interrupt your moment with your friends.
Me
I would’ve liked to see you.
It felt dangerous to admit, but the darkness of my room made me feel bold.
The typing indicator appeared again, and I held my breath, waiting for his response.
Andy
I can’t stop thinking about you.
Me
Me neither.
Come over.
I’d never been this impulsive or reckless, but the thought of seeing him—of finishing what we’d started yesterday—made everything else seem insignificant.
And then I felt like a total ass. He couldn’t come over—he had Rory.
Me
Sorry. Ignore me. I know you can’t leave Rory alone.
God, how could I forget that sweet girl?
He didn’t respond and no little dots appeared, and my heart sank to my stomach. How the hell was I going to face him in the light of day after just making a fool of myself?
My phone buzzed and I braced myself for rejection when I opened it.
Andy
Let me in.
He’s here?
Heart in my throat, I slipped out of bed and padded down the stairs in bare feet, sleep shorts, and a tiny tank top. Rachel slept with ear buds in, Talia was staying over with her situationship, and Ayanna slept like the dead.
I wasn’t worried about waking any of them up, but I was terrified of having a heart attack from the way my heart was racing in my chest the closer I got to the front door.
I yanked the door open, and there he was—hair mussed like he’d been running his hands through it, wearing a faded CFU Hockey T-shirt and gray sweatpants. A baby monitor was clipped to his waistband.
And honestly, right here in this moment, I totally got the hot single dad thing.
I don’t know who moved first. Maybe we both did. One moment we were standing a foot apart, and the next we were colliding—his hands in my hair, mine gripping his shirt, mouths crashing together with an urgency that knocked the breath from my lungs.
It was nothing like I’d imagined, and I’d imagined it more times than I cared to admit. It was better.
Hungrier.
Dirtier.
Bordering on desperate.
His lips were soft but insistent, and I could feel years of tension, of misunderstandings, of fighting, transforming into something else entirely.
It was all-consuming.
I had kissed guys before, but never like this—like we’d been drowning and had finally found air.
Drew backed me against the doorframe, one hand cradling my face while the other gripped my ass, pulling me closer.
I gasped against his mouth, my fingers sliding into his hair, holding him to me as if he might disappear if I let go.
“Harper,” he breathed against my lips, my name a question and a plea all at once.
His voice broke through the lust haze, and I remembered a very important detail that mattered more than my sex life.
“Rory.”
He kissed down my neck, and I could feel his lips pull up in a smile. “My name’s Drew, but I could understand how I just kissed you silly and you might be a little forgetful.”
I smacked his chest, fighting back a smile of my own.
“Drew, stop. What about Rory?”
He pulled back, his hazel eyes filled with warmth and desire.
He brushed my hair back from my face and looked at me like he was memorizing every inch.
“I can’t even begin to tell you what it means that she’s your first thought.
She’s asleep and Liam’s watching a movie.
He said he’d keep an ear out. He has the spare monitor and I’ve got mine just in case she needs me.
But I couldn’t—” He broke off, running a hand through his already disheveled hair.
“I wasn’t about to pass up the opportunity to come when you said you wanted me here. ”
Without another word, I grabbed his shirt and pulled him inside, closing the door quietly behind us. Before I even had to ask, his lips were back on mine and we stumbled up the stairs, unwilling to break contact for more than a second.
Drew pressed me against the wall halfway to my room, his mouth hot on my neck, my fingers digging into his shoulders as I fought back a salacious moan. Fuck, it was like he knew every erogenous zone on my body—including some I didn’t even know about.
We clung to each other as we tumbled into my bedroom, unwilling to create even an inch of space between us.
Drew kicked the door closed behind us, and suddenly we were standing in the dark, just enough moonlight coming through my window to see each other.
The reality of what was happening settled over us.
Drew’s eyes were dark, his breathing uneven. He reached for the baby monitor at his waist, checking it before carefully placing it on my nightstand.
“Are you sure about this?” he asked, his voice low. “Because if you’re not—”
“I’ve never been more sure of anything,” I interrupted, surprising myself with my certainty.
The look that crossed his face—relief mixed with heady desire—only made me more certain. We were both feeling this and there was no going back.
He closed the distance between us again, but this time when he kissed me, it was slower and deeper, as if he was savoring me now instead of just desperately consuming.
His hands slid under the hem of my tank top, warm against my skin, and I arched into his touch, wanting him more than I’d ever wanted anyone. It hit me in that moment—how completely the hatred had transformed into desire and how thin that line had always been.
We’d spent years fighting each other, and now, with the same intensity, we surrendered.