Chapter 8
It’s Harper.
Harper is standing in front of me.
Or she was until she screamed and locked herself in the bathroom.
For some reason, I look over my shoulder at the door I walked through, thinking maybe it turned into some type of portal. That’s the only logical explanation for my dreams to manifest right before my eyes.
I came for Psyche, who’s wedged herself in between every one of my thoughts and yet Harper is the one who is here. Harper, my every thought.
Maybe I’ve died and this is Heaven.
An atom bomb detonates in my head at the realization.
Psyche is Harper.
Fuck that means the woman who came on my hand, whose taste seared my tongue, and legs wrapped around my waist while taking every inch I gave her was Harper. My employee. My friend's daughter.
I clear my throat. “Harper?” I call out her name, sounding foreign while in this room.
Nothing happens. Gently knocking on the door. I call out her name again and I wait until she slowly pulls the door open.
“Oh, god, it is you,” she groans, pushing past me, stalking into the room.
My eyes follow her, committing every part of her to memory.
Thighs I dream about getting my face in-between, tits I want to slide my cock between, an ass I want to—basically anywhere Harper will let me near with my mouth, hands, or dick is somewhere I want to be.
If she’ll let me, but right now she looks as if she wants me to disappear.
Probably off the planet entirely, if she got her way.
She paces across the room, chewing on her thumb refusing to look at me.
“What are you doing here?” I demand.
Nolan, you fucking idiot.
She doesn’t need to be accused, she needs reassurance.
Her eyes snap to me, kindling igniting in her gaze. “Me? What are you doing here?” She violently shakes her head, as if the movement will erase me from her sight. “You know what, never mind.” Harper snatches a coat from the chair and dashes out the door.
For a second I think about not following her but there's a much bigger devil on my shoulder that wins. But before I follow, I swipe a folder off the table.
Will Maxine rip me a new one when she finds out—yes, but we didn’t go over the list our first night and I have to know what brought her to Midnights.
Harper’s fighting her way through the crowd ahead of me. Someone shouts her name, but she doesn’t stop and keeps pushing her way to the front door.
I turn to see who is calling after her, only to see Maxine with a look of worry on her face. She follows the line Harper left with her eyes, which leads to me. “So that didn’t go well.” She says.
“No, it didn’t, I—” That makes me stop. I turn to Maxine. “Wait, what?”
“There was a fifty-fifty chance she would either run out of the building, or run into your arms. Just so you know, I was rooting for the latter.”
“What the fuck, Maxine? What are you talking about?”
“You thought I wouldn’t look up the one woman you can’t stop talking about?”
My neck cranes in time to see Harper walk out the front door. Maxine looks pleased with herself but I only have time for one revelation tonight. “We’re not done.” I point the folder at her and rush past people as she shouts, reminding me I’m not allowed to take it from the premises.
By the time I get outside, she is darting toward the parking lot. It only takes me a few seconds to catch up with her.
“Harper, please wait,” I bellow into the night.
“No thank you!” she shouts over her shoulder, steps away from her car. I break into a jog to get to her before she gets in and leaves me in the dust.
My hand comes down on the door handle as she yanks it open.
“Nolan, please do not make this any more embarrassing than it is.”
“This isn’t embarrassing, this is…”
“A nightmare?” she blurts out as I say, “Unexpected.”
When she pauses, everything comes to a halt around us and for a moment, we just stare at each other, like figures in a snow globe. Harper swallows loudly, stealing little glances at me. “You're not horrified, it’s…me?”
I hate the way the word drips out of her mouth, like it’s an unfathomable notion. The single syllable breaks whatever resolve I have in me because I can’t stand the fact that she has no idea how I feel about her.
In the six months I’ve worked with Harper, I’ve slowly let myself spiral down a hole where I’m consumed by her.
Not a single thought passes through my head that I don’t automatically look for a way to tie to her.
When I’m dressing for the day, I wonder which suit she would like best. On my drive into town, I run through my tasks for the day and see which of them will bring me in contact with her and then make those a priority.
At night when I’m home alone, I fantasize about having her across the counter from me while I cook and yearn to know what she likes best. And at night, I fall into bed only to fuck my own fist at the thought of her.
Harper lives in the crevices of my brain and yet I’ve also spent the last six months trying to get her out because everything tells me we could never be together. There are so many reasons to choose from that I’m left paralyzed.
A twenty year age gap, the fact I’m her boss, and her dad has been my friend since we were children.
Take your pick, any one of those will pull in gossip and snide remarks from everyone in Cupid, guaranteed, and that’s not what I want for her.
Not to mention I frequent Midnights because my tastes in bed extend past what I can get from simple hook ups.
I’m not the type of man who deserves a woman like Harper, but that doesn’t stop me from wanting her.
“Horrified isn’t even on the spectrum of my feelings.”
She finally looks at me and the weak tie holding back my secret longing for her comes undone.
Brown eyes, darker than then night sky and more captivating than anything I’ll ever encounter stare back at me, pulling me in like a siren.
It’s a certain death for me if I follow her but I’m not sure a sweeter way to go exists.
Don’t do it. Don’t do it.
Just leave her, I try to convince myself. I can live the rest of my life without corrupting her. For once I wish I was the type of man I am in the bedroom. The type of man who likes to give, who isn’t selfish, but I’m not.
“You said you wanted to learn, to explore your sexuality with a partner.”
She groans and buries her face into her hands, trying to hide. “Don’t remind me. God I’m so embarrassed you saw me like that.”
I step closer and already dizzy thinking about everything I can show her. With a soft tug around her wrist, I pull her hands down but she’s avoiding me again. I can’t stand it.
“Harper, look at me.” My voice is gentle but the command is there and I wait to see how she responds.
Her chest fills with a deep breath and once she exhales she slowly lifts her head. A beast in my chest unfurls, threatening to strut around at the simple act of obedience and it’s hard not to let him loose.
“Beautiful,” I praise and watch as she stands up a little straighter.
Now the beast struts around.
“If you want to pretend like this never happened, I can do that. We’ll show up for work tomorrow and it will be like any other day, or—” I pause, waiting to see how she’ll respond or if my attempt is futile.
It’s a small movement but hard not to miss when her tongue darts out to wet her bottom lip before replying in a soft voice. “Or what?” It’s not a threat, it’s an opening.
“Or I can show you anything, everything, you want to learn.”
The weighted statement rolls across her face as we stand in the near dark.
There haven’t been many people out here but a few pass us, saying nothing on their way inside.
Frigid air blows around us as Harper pulls the thick jacket tighter around her.
Any more lingering and I’m going to have to convince her to go back inside before the tip of her nose turns pink.
“I don’t know if I can be with you…in there.”
A breath whooshes past my lips. At least she didn’t end the sentence where I thought she was going to. “Would you be more comfortable in my home?”
“Maybe?” she questions. “I’m not sure what to think right now, it’s all a bit…much.”
“Of course but you’ll think about it?”
She nods and the beast roars.
“That’s all the hope I need.”
She doesn’t say another word until she opens up her car door and slips into the driver's side. “You’d really be okay with teaching me?” she asks, staring out the windshield, gripping the wheel until her knuckles turn ghost white.
God, I want nothing more than to rip the clothes from her body, bury my face between her legs, and show her just how okay I am with it. Instead, with quick precision, I duck my upper body into her car. A surprised noise squeaks out of Harper.
She smells good, it’s like being spun in a cotton candy machine when I’m near her. But that’s Harper, she’s everything soft, light, and sweet in this world.
About a month after I started as City Manager, when I was still boiling in my bitterness from being exiled back to Cupid, there was an elementary school class visiting.
Why third graders want to know about local government is beyond me, but the place was overrun with children, some screaming, a couple crying and in general all around chaos.
We were all miserable, every single employee.
Hell, even the teacher looked like she was two minutes from leaving the kids and walking out—everyone, but Harper.
That was the first time I noticed Harper.
She was calm, empathetic with the children and possessed the type of kindness the world needs more of.
Before that day, my list of what attracted me to Harper was purely superficial.
All of which are still correct, but after that day the list grew, and I started paying more attention to who Harper is and not just what she looks like.
I drag my nose up the column of her throat, inhaling until I’m drowning in sugar, and my lips hover at her ear. “I’ve been dreaming of you in my bed and I’ll be in agony until you give me your answer, Sweet Girl.”
I press a kiss against her cheek and only linger for a moment before telling her goodnight and shutting her car door.
If I’m going to Hell, at least I’ll have earned my place.