Chapter 38
THIRTY-EIGHT
PANTING, SHE TORE her hands from his hair to urge his mouth from hers. “Wait…”
How did they fall back into this without skipping a beat?
He kissed her again. “No.”
She pushed back. “Knight—”
“I missed you,” he groaned. “I’ve missed you so goddamn much, Sweet.”
“What is happening? We can’t—we can’t do this,” she whispered, ducking away from his approaching mouth again. “We broke up.”
“We didn’t,” he said, relaxing a little to stroke her hair.
“We did. Let go.”
“We didn’t get started,” he said. “I want to, we need to… We’re starting now.”
“What are you talking about?” Had he fallen and hit his head? Was this a time warp? “Our lives have moved on. I have Donnie and will never measure up to Audine.”
“This is our first date.”
“See,” Harper said. “Give her a chance. This could be the real thing for you, no more pretending.”
“Have you slept with him?” he asked. “Answer me.”
“No,” she said, hands dropping to his shoulders. “Of course not.”
“Don’t.”
“What?”
“Don’t let him into your bed.”
“You don’t have to worry about me,” she said, stroking his jacket.
He backed away. “I do worry about you. I’ve been worried for two weeks.”
A chill crept across her shoulders. “You didn’t call.”
“You needed time to miss me,” Bastian said. “I thought you’d reach out.”
“Didn’t we…” she said. “You’re a popular, successful man. We both said it was over.”
“We both didn’t.”
The darkness returned. What did that mean? With a meter between them, the ice of awareness crept higher.
Damon appeared at the top of the first flight of stairs. “Harpy!”
“Sorry,” she said and glanced at Bastian.
He took a last look then went back to the party. Their conversation didn’t seem finished, though it was probably for the best.
“What’s going on?” Damon asked.
From one ex to another. At least there wouldn’t be kissing with the second one. Ick. That was a hard no. She should think the same about Bastian, except…
“Nothing,” she said, choosing not to dwell. “I’m coming.”
She ascended the stairs, following Damon into a room more like a lounge than an office.
“That bastard giving you a hard time?” Damon asked.
“No,” she said, sinking into one of the couches. “What happened with you and Charissa?”
He sat beside her. “She’s talking to Adara, I don’t know where we go from here.”
“If you love her,” Harper said, “fight for her.”
“It’s not that easy.”
“It is. If you love her, nothing else matters. Work it out.”
“She wants to get married.”
And that surprised him?
“That’s good,” she said. “You should commit to each other.”
“She wants to get married because Adara is getting married.”
“Maybe that was the catalyst, but most women share that dream.”
“You never wanted it.”
Them? He was thinking about them?
“We never discussed it,” she said, grateful for that.
“Did you want to?”
“I didn’t think about it,” she answered.
Almost repulsed by the reminder they’d ever been a thing, she certainly hadn’t imagined a wedding with him.
“You don’t even care that Adara’s getting married. Most sisters would freak without their own serious relationship.”
Ignoring her meltdown at the engagement party, she chose strength over vulnerability now. And where did that strength come from? Not her. From the man who’d saved her.
“You were always a straight shooter,” Damon said, resting his hand on her knee.
“Charissa’s being a straight shooter. She wants to get married, she’s made that clear. You can’t ask her to be any plainer than that.”
“Yeah.”
“You don’t want to marry her?”
“Come on,” Damon said. “Charissa’s hot but it’s a whole different ballgame living with her.”
“Then breaking up is for the best,” Harper said. “If the relationship isn’t going the way both of you want, you should move on.”
“Like you and Hunt,” he said. “Was he a prick?”
And it was his business, how? “I don’t want to talk about Bastian.”
“Guys like that think they own the world. You’d never be happy with a man so overbearing.”
Ha! Pot? Hello, Kettle.
Though that was hardly the time to point it out.
“We were good together,” he said. “Where did we go wrong?”
Finally, an easy question. “You slept with another woman.”
Damon smiled. “Always so straight talking.”
His hand slid up her thigh. Oh, uh, no, this was—no way.
“Don’t,” she said, pushing it down.
“We were good together, Harpy,” he said, leaning closer. “No expectation, no disappointment.”
“Indifference,” she said, using Bastian’s word. “We weren’t good together, we were just together.”
“We were a team,” he said, reaching for her face but she ducked back. “We were good.”
On alert, caution tingled. “Damon…”
He lunged, putting his weight over hers. One problem at a time. She had her work cut out trying to avoid his mouth.
A scream startled him up. And there was Charissa and Adara in the doorway. Of course.
“You’re having sex with your ex!” Charissa exclaimed.
Uh, no, glancing down confirmed they were both fully clothed.
“We’re not,” Harper said. “He’s not.”
“How long has it been going on?” Charissa demanded as though Harper hadn’t spoken at all. “I should’ve known! This is why you broke up with Bastian, isn’t it?”
“No,” Harper said, finding her feet.
Someone took her hand. Damon. Damn Damon right there on his feet next to her.
“I’m sorry you had to see this,” Damon said.
Inverted déjà vu. The last time she and Charissa’s positions were switched. The view from this side was not welcome.
“Nope. Nope. Nope,” Harper said, fighting Damon for control of her hand. “I’m tagging out.”
Except the jerk wouldn’t let her go.
“I can’t believe this,” Charissa howled and spun on her heels.
Adara, and her outrage, went after her friend.
Why would no one hear her?
“What are you doing?” Harper hissed at Damon, snatching her hand away.
Didn’t matter now they’d lost their audience.
“You’ve got me back,” he said as though she should be grateful.
Ew. No. Definitely not.
“I don’t want you back. I will swear to the highest heaven that the one thing I don’t want now, or ever, is you back.”
“I know I hurt you. You’ve struggled without me, I’ve seen that but that’s over now. I’m yours again.”
“No!” Harper said. “I’m not interested. Stay away from me.”
“Is this about Donald?”
“No,” she said, forgetting for a moment who the hell that was. “This is about me.”
“You’ve got me.” And he couldn’t be more proud of himself. “I’m all yours now. I’ll talk to Donnie. Explain about us.”
When he tried to get closer, she backed away. “There is no us.”
“We can talk about this at home,” he said. “In your bedroom, we—”
“Charissa lives with Adara,” she said of the woman who’d been sharing his bed less than a day ago. “You’re not creeping back into my bed.”
“Davis will understand.”
Her father was not the problem. He was so far, far away from the problem.
“There’s nothing to understand,” she said. “We’re not together.”
“Davis went nuts when we split. Do you want to tell him you’ve lost a second business interest this month? We walk into that house together and—”
“Everyone will assume you and Charissa split because of me.”
He shrugged. “Maybe.”
“This is nuts! Your relationship falls apart and now it’s my fault?”
All she’d done was get out of bed and somehow this had become her day.
“Davis—”
“Enough,” Harper said, retreating. “I’m not walking in there and covering you. I’m sick of these games.”
She was done with this. With him. With family. With drama. She would not let her life careen out of control again. The wheel was hers and Damon was not close to the kind of man she wanted riding at her side.
“Where are you going?” Damon called. “What are you doing?”
“Moving out,” she exclaimed and got the hell out of there.
Charissa must’ve made an entrance because when she opened the party door, more than a few people were whispering.
She didn’t care.
Honestly, she was done.
At the coat check, she handed the slip to the attendant. She’d travelled in her father’s car, and hadn’t packed a house key. Backing up to peek into the party, she could see her parents, Adara, and Carnell comforting a sobbing Charissa. Yeah, that was a scene to avoid.
“Harper?”
Ah, Donald, where had he come from? Good thing he had, she’d forgotten about him.
“Sorry, something’s come up and I have to go.”
“What’s going on?”
“It’s not important,” she said. “Look, Donnie, you’re a great guy but this was never going to be serious. Go and enjoy the party.”
“Are you sure?” he asked. “We could be good together.”
“I just don’t have the time, and I’ve been more than burned by men this year. I’m taking a break from romance, from all of it.”
“Give me a call when your break’s over,” he said then kissed her cheek before returning to the party.
“Ms. Scott.”
Ah, she went back to the counter and wrapped her shawl around her shoulders.
Now what?
The only one who might be willing and able to bail her out—
“Sweet?”
Right on time.
Striding toward her from the party, he might as well have been on a noble steed.
“Bastian,” she said, the corners of her lips rising.
He frowned. “Is it true?”
“I have no idea what you’ve heard but I’ll go with no. How much money do you have on you?”
“Money?”
“Give me your wallet.”
He handed it over the moment he was within reach. “What happened? What do you need?”
“I don’t have any money on me,” she said, opening his wallet. “Just a lip gloss and a cellphone.”
“It’s an open bar. Why do you need money?”
“I need to get out of here and I can’t go home.”
Before she could slip any bills from his wallet, he snagged it back, replacing it with his valet ticket.
“Get the car, I’ll be right back.”
“But…” she said.
He brushed his fingertip through her hair, flashed his dimple, and disappeared back into the party.
Okay. So that was…
Despite being clueless, she didn’t have a whole lot of options, and it was Bastian.
Bastian!
She’d do as told.