30. Thirty
“Were your ears burning?” Harlowe’s greeting when she answers my call is so unexpected it makes me chuckle softly. The din of a crowd can be heard over the line, and I instantly wonder where she is, and who she’s out with. Is she on a date? No, she wouldn’t have answered my call so easily. She could be with friends.
“Why? Are you entertaining your friends with stories about my cock?” I ask, fishing for the information I crave and leaning back in the smooth leather seat of the Karma where I decided to call her before leaving the tower. I enjoy the rasp of her voice, and, if I’m being honest, the idea that she’s talking about me. I was planning to ask if she’s free tonight, but that can wait if I’ve been on her mind. I want to know the details.
“Not exactly,” she says, her voice lowering. “But if you want me to kiss and tell, I can share that you liked having a finger up your ass when I sucked you off.”
I sit up straighter. “That is patently false information, and you know it,” I say, a prickle of unease going through me at the thought of her sharing something like that with the wrong person. A nasty gossip site like the Atlanta Haute List would share even the most untrue of accusations about me just because they enjoy highlighting my family for some reason.
“I’m kidding, Zander, relax. I wasn’t telling anyone about the weird things you like in the bedroom. And who knows what could have changed in the last five years? Maybe you do like your ass played with now. I won’t judge you for it.”
I hear the clink of a glass and wonder if she’s drinking, and that’s why she’s in this rare playful mood that reminds me so much of the woman I pursued with a passion just to turn away when I was done with her. But that’s the thing I’ve come to realize. I was never done with Harlowe Sorenson, and I don’t think I ever will be.
“What are you doing right now?”
“Enjoying a ladies’ night out. We’re somewhere downtown. Brick and Barley, I think? Something pretentious and overpriced for the craft cocktails and food we ordered. We’re celebrating my cookbook being a bestseller and getting a cooking show option. But hey, the drinks are strong and the food is decent.” I hear an unintelligible sound from Harlowe’s end of the conversation. “And the company is amazing. That’s Paloma, by the way. She’s the company and she wants you to know she’s awesome.”
I hear laughter, and I wonder how long they’ve been at this. I tap the restaurant name into my phone to see where it’s located. Not far from the tower. I type out a quick text to Javi and return my attention to Harlowe. “Want even better company?”
“Sure, why the hell not? The more the merrier,” she says, sounding as relaxed as I”ve heard her since she crashed back into my life. Thank fuck for whatever cocktails she’s been enjoying to have loosened her up this much.
I hear a protest over the line and bet Paloma isn’t as on board with having her ladies’ night crashed. But that’s what Javi’s for. He’ll wingman for me and not think twice about it. I saw the way he looked at Paloma when he rear-ended Harlowe last month. Was it just last month? It feels like a lifetime ago already. It won”t be a hardship for him to talk to Harlowe’s pretty yet prickly friend, who is likely not a fan of mine if she’s been around for a while. I wouldn’t like me either, if I were in her position.
“I’ll be there in ten. Enjoy another cocktail on me. I want to treat you ladies for your celebration.”
“Don’t mind if we do. We’re getting the bibimbap bowl and the flank steak sliders if you’re paying. Hear that, Paloma, Zander has our tab. Get whatever you want.” Harlowe pauses, listening to Paloma. “She says she doesn’t mind you joining us. She’s ordering dessert, too.”
I laugh. “Fine, just leave room on the table for my drink when I get there.”
The drive doesn”t take long, and I hand my car off to the valet as I scan the sky full of dark clouds threatening rain, and maybe even a thunderstorm. Javi meets me at the door to the restaurant and sends me a questioning look. Like me, he’s removed his tie, but coming from work, we’re still in our jackets and slacks. Not a bad look for this restaurant, which is a pretentious place known for strong drinks and an Asian fusion menu, according to the web search I did while on the phone with Harlowe.
“Feeling like overpriced drinks and small portions? This isn’t usually your type of place. I happen to loathe it.” Javi looks from me to the name of the restaurant printed on a grain sack outside the entrance.
“You might not love the place, but you’ll definitely like the company,” I promise.
“Which of your Instagram groupies are we meeting tonight?” he asks, sounding intrigued.
“Not a groupie, and you’ve met them, kind of.”
Javi looks at me curiously, but doesn”t hazard a guess.
I scan the restaurant when we enter, ignoring the line of people waiting for tables. I spot Harlowe across the restaurant like my eyes are drawn to her and motion with my chin at Javi to follow.
“Oh,” he says in understanding when he catches the direction of my gaze. “Yeah, this won’t be bad at all.”
I slide into the empty seat next to Harlowe, resting my arm on the back of her chair and enjoying the surprised smile she gives me in response to our arrival. She looks incredible. She’s wearing a strappy tank top that shows off her shoulders and most of her upper back, a flirty ruffle down the center that draws my eyes to her cleavage, sending visceral memories of what her nipples look and taste like sling-shotting around my brain.
She has a plumeria flower tucked behind her ear closest to me, the scent intoxicating and sending me straight back to when I was in paradise with her. I think of when plumerias were decorating her body last and bite back a groan of longing that’s so fierce, I have to turn my head and clear my throat before I can return my attention to Harlowe.
“Hello, bestseller and future cooking show host. Congratulations,” I say, trailing my fingers along the exposed skin of her back. She shivers in response and leans into my touch. She’s definitely a few drinks in.
“Thanks,” she says, her cheeks rosy. “This is Paloma,” she says, gesturing to her friend across the table. “I see you brought the bad driver with you. Paloma, this is Javier. And you know of Zander, but you get to officially meet him now.” Harlowe finishes the introductions.
“My driving record would indicate otherwise, and again, I’m so sorry for the accident. I hope everything is back in order now,” Javi says smoothly, settling into the open chair next to Paloma, who eyes him warily.
“It’s true, he’s usually a better driver than that, but I-85 gets the best of us all at some point. I hope you liked the rental.”
I’ve made sure all of her repairs were done to my exacting standards and she didn’t have to pay for any of it. I tear my attention from Harlowe and nod at her friend and the spread on the table.
“Did you order everything on the menu? I’m serious about it being my treat. You deserve it.” I again look at Harlowe when I finish.
“We ordered plenty, don’t you worry, Daddy Warbucks,” Paloma says with humor.
Javi laughs and turns to her. “That’s a new one. What else do you call him?”
Paloma grins, but it looks mean. “Sperm donor. Asshole. Conceited jerk. Hit it and quit it. Johnny Bravo.”
“I understand all but the last one,” Javi says, clearly not interested in having my back in this situation. “Care to elaborate?”
“He’s a big, dumb, caricature of a narcissistic womanizer who is obsessed with himself and can’t make a relationship work out.” She crosses her arms and stares at me as she explains.
“Harsh, much?” It’s to be expected, though. “Feel better after getting that off your chest?” I ask, holding back the anger that would like to fire off my own insults. “And you’re the overprotective friend who has Harlowe’s best interests in mind.” I hold out a hand when I see her bristle and prepare to retort. “I more than deserve it.”
At my acceptance, her prepared vitriol dies before she even gets started, and she looks confused. Javi turns to her then, and smiles his disarming, blinding white grin that promises fun.
“I have plenty of stories I could tell you that would more than reinforce your ideas of him.” As he captures Paloma’s attention like the wingman I knew he’d be, I turn my own to Harlowe.
“Congratulations, Lowe,” I say again. My voice is so quiet it’s nearly drowned out by the noise in the restaurant, but she leans closer to me to hear better. “I’m so proud of you. I’m glad you’re celebrating this victory.”
She smiles and looks up at me with her sweet brown eyes all liquid soft. “Thank you.”
I lazily drag my fingertips along her spine and watch the reaction it causes. Goosebumps rise on her skin, and her nipples grow hard against the black silk of her top, making me more than aware that she’s not wearing a bra. I can look right down the front of her shirt from my vantage point and it does nothing to stem the desire for her that is coursing through me. I fight back a groan and look away from her incredible tits.
“You look beautiful.” I bring my hand up to cup her cheek and run my fingertips along the flower at her ear. “This brings back some very good memories.”
She melts into my hand, sighing as I trace my thumb along her skin, her eyes closing. “It made me think of you, too.”
“Where’s Hendricks tonight?” I don’t know if it’s the right question to ask, but I want to know. “I miss him. He’s a really cute kid.”
Harlowe’s eyes flutter open and she stares at me a moment before smiling softly. “He’s with my mom for the night.”
She’s mellow and soft, and I like her in this state almost as much as I like the wildcat fighter she can be when angry. It reminds me of the soft moments we had when I lost myself in her, when I made her come so many times she cried and still begged for more, not wanting it to end. When I promised her forever and told her I was ruined. I wasn’t lying about that. I would be hers forever, even if I couldn’t bring myself to honor my promises when we left our vacation. A part of me has remained attached to her all this time, waiting, wanting, needing her, locked away in the vault where I threw it after carving it out of my chest. Now I’ve dragged it out, slapped it back on my chest, told it to beat again, and hope it will repair the rest of me that’s broken.
“He’s asked about you every day since you came over. He likes you.”
“I told you I would come over any time he asked. You didn’t say anything.”
“I wasn”t sure how to feel about it. I promise I’ll let you know the next time.”
“What about you? What have you been thinking about, when you think of me?” I ask, hoping we’re on the same page. Hoping we can get there if she’s not. I continue to trace my thumb along her cheek and she lets me, which feels like a huge fucking win in itself. I feel like we turned a corner after that kiss at the gala.
“I didn’t delete the footage from when you came over while I was making the honey cake. Those few minutes you were in the frame with me were… insanely hot. We’re hot together. I’ve watched it back countless times. Thought about it in bed a few times, too.”
She blinks, breaking the spell she’s wrapped around us, and looks up at me from under dark lashes, her eyes luminous and full of heat. I realize I’ve leaned in even closer as she spoke quietly, drawn in by her voice, eating up the magic of her words.
“I wanted to taste you so bad right then, Lowe. I could feel how hot your pussy was when I pulled you against me. I bet you would have been sweeter than the batter I licked off your neck. But you stopped me. Would you stop me tonight if I wanted to bury my face between your legs and drown in your sweetness?”
She shivers, but looks down, and I feel like I’ve lost her by being too bold, by telling her how badly I want her instead of how badly I want to be the man she needs. I should be working harder to gain her trust instead of acting like the stupid fuckboy who is only capable of breaking her heart that she thinks I am.
“If you take me home tonight, you can see for yourself.” Her eyes are clear when she meets mine, challenge illuminating those dark depths that hold my whole world.
My heart leaps, but I slow my instant desire to scoop her into my arms and run for the fucking doors right this instant before she can change her mind. I move my hand down to the column of her throat and turn her face so she’s fully looking at me, making sure she knows I’m dead serious with what I’m about to say.
“If I take you home with me, I’m not letting you go this time. You’ll be mine. Whatever that means in this world, in real life. No vacation bullshit.” My voice is low, hoarse.
I’m terrified out of my mind with what this declaration means for the both of us. How will I back it up? How can I be the man she needs when Olympus has already claimed so much of me? But I’ll figure it out. I’m willing to do whatever I need to in order to make her mine now.
“Promise?” her voice shakes and I see the hesitation in her eyes, the challenging mask slipping and showing me the scared woman who knows how easily I can hurt her, how simple it is for me to sell her a lie and change in the very next moment. Yet she’s still asking for it.
“I promise. I won’t hurt you again, Lowe. I’m so sorry for before. I know that words will never make up for what I did to you. I’ll show you now that I mean to be better, to do better by you and Hendricks. I’ll be the man you need and want.”
She blinks, and a tear slips down her cheek. I do what I wanted to so badly on the jet when I had to break her heart, and catch it with my thumb, licking it off, tasting her ocean of sadness, her need.
“Hey!” Female hands clap in my face and we both jump. “Excuse me, you two. I don’t want to see tears from my best friend when we’re supposed to be celebrating. Whatever deep conversation y’all are having over there has to stop.”
Harlowe and I pull apart and look up quickly at the interruption as she dabs slim fingers I can vividly imagine sliding diamond rings onto under her eyes, swiping at the moisture on her cheeks. The spell that captivated us is broken and the loud bar comes back into focus, reminding me that we’re in public, surrounded by people, and were not, in fact, alone having this very heartfelt conversation.
“It’s fine, Paloma,” Harlowe says, placating her friend with a quick, watery smile. “I’m fine, it’s all good.”
“I’ll make it up to you later,” I promise in her ear before I return my attention to the table, loaded with plates of food and cocktails. “Let’s celebrate your book being a bestseller and getting a show, as is only proper.” I pick up the closest drink, a pink cocktail with one of those flowers that’s tucked behind her ear, and hold it up. “To bestsellers, fresh starts, and forever.”
Harlowe looks at me quickly, then across the table at Javi and Paloma. I keep my eyes trained on her, glass raised until she picks up her own cocktail and clinks it against mine hesitantly. “To bestsellers.”
“To bestsellers,” the others echo, clinking glasses and smiling at her while avoiding the rest of my awkward toast.
I sip the hideous cocktail and set it down, slipping the plumeria flower into a pocket for later. I rest my hand on Harlowe’s thigh and realize she’s wearing some leather-type leggings that hug her thighs and I look down quickly, only to bite back a groan as my hand involuntarily squeezes tighter at the sight. Whatever the material is feels like a second skin, buttery soft and warm, black as night, and stretched tight over her thick thighs that are pressed together on the seat. I want to peel the pants off her and have those thighs wrapped around my head tight like she’s squeezing my fingers, keeping my hand trapped in place. I rub my thumb on her outer thigh and leave my hand where it is as I try to focus on the table conversation, the other people here with us, when all I can think of is the heat coming from Harlowe’s pussy, mere inches from my fingers.
“Javi was just saying he wants a big family. What about you, Zander,” Paloma asks, hazel eyes sharp as she draws me into the conversation with a landmine of a question that’s sure to weigh my intentions as only a protective best friend can.
I shoot Javi a withering glare and he shrugs apologetically, but also gives me a look that more than says you brought this on yourself, cabrón. Well, fuck. How do I answer that when it’s only recently that I’ve even considered the possibility of having a family at all? I look down at Harlowe and see the guarded look of hope she is working so hard to hide peeking from her gorgeous eyes.
This is it. Go for fucking broke. Lay it all out. Commit to the man I want to be or get the fuck out of here right now. She deserves my fucking best, and if I can’t give it to her now, with an answer to a simple enough question, I don”t fucking deserve a second chance with her at all.
“I want whatever Harlowe wants,” I say for her to hear, but loud enough for Paloma and Javi to catch. Paloma lets out a small gasp while Javi chokes on his drink. “How many babies do you want, Lowe? Girls? Boys? A whole baseball team? Just the one? I’ll give you anything you fucking want.” Javi starts coughing in earnest now and Paloma whacks him on his back until he stops.
“Zander,” Harlowe says slowly, eyes wide, looking spooked by my declaration. Okay, maybe it was a bit much. I should have just stopped at whatever she wanted. It was a good enough answer, but it wasn’t the answer I wanted to give.
“Are you feeling okay, bro?” Javi asks, reaching across the table like he’s going to feel my forehead. I bat his hand away, keeping my eyes on Harlowe.
“I’m serious. We made such a beautiful little boy. He’s amazing. I want as many babies as you want.” I’m high with the feeling of saying this out loud now, of accepting the truth, of knowing that deep down it’s what I want so fucking badly, but only if it can be with her.
“Zander, do I need to take you home? Was there something in that cocktail?” Javi says, leaning over and pulling the glass toward him to sniff it. “I think you’re scaring her. Dial it back. This isn’t like you,” he says quietly when he’s closer to me. His face is concerned, probably thinking I’ve lost my mind to be saying what I am. He’s never seen me like this. Hell, neither have I. I catch Paloma staring at me, with a hint of a disbelieving smile turning up her mouth that goaded me into this spot. I smile and let her see the truth. What I”m saying sounds crazy because I”m crazy about Harlowe.
I refocus on Harlowe’s face and see what Javi does, undisguised fear. But if I know this woman at all, I know she’s afraid to want what I’m saying, not that I’m saying it. I give her a reassuring smile. “I guess we have a lot to talk about before we start talking about babies, right, Lowe?”
She starts laughing and drops her face into her hands. “Oh, my God, Zander, you’re such a psycho,” she says behind her fingers, which instantly eases the tension around the table. Javi resettles in his seat. Paloma shakes her head and sends Harlowe a glance to check in, and seemingly satisfied, takes a big sip of a purple cocktail.
“Well, that certainly turned the mood of the night. Thanks for that lovely conversation starter, Paloma,” Harlowe says, giving her friend a withering look across the table.
“I think you crying over whatever he was saying to you before I asked him the question was the downer, but hey, feel free to blame me for asking what we all wanted to know anyway,” she replies with enough sass to give me a good look into their friendship. They’re close, probably share everything, and she’s protective of Harlowe. Good. Can’t have too many friends like that when you have assholes like me out there ready to break the hearts of good women.
“Paloma!” Harlowe says, gripping the table and giving her friend a stern look before shaking her head. “I think I’ve had enough celebrating for the night. I should get home.”
I give her a look, wondering if she plans to go home alone, or if she’ll let me take her home with me. She doesn’t look at me, but a moment later, her hand comes to rest on my thigh, and slowly begins to slide up. With me, it is.
“You can’t be the pooper on your own party,” Paloma says, pouting across the table at Harlowe. “Your mom said she would watch Hendricks all night if you wanted and you still want to call it now? Boo, you’re no fun.”
“There’s a great bar down the street with an exotic liquor selection I could show you if you want to keep it going. Unless you’re set on these pink and purple cocktails, then I guess I can tolerate another round or two if you promise to share more embarrassing stories about these two,” Javi offers with perfect timing. I send him a secret look of thanks whether he did it on my behalf or not.
“I could go for a good scotch after all of these sugary drinks,” Paloma says, considering Javi’s offer. “Fine, let’s go be fun and Harlowe can go home.” She gives Harlowe a look as if she knows exactly what that means and where her hand is right now. “Zander, can I trust you to make sure she makes it home safely? We took a car service here to avoid having to drive back after.”
“Yes, Paloma, I’ll take her home,” I answer honestly, and smile wickedly so she knows exactly what I have planned.
Harlowe huffs out a laugh at the exchange. “Stop it, you two,” she says playfully. “You’re worse than my kid.”
“Our kid,” I correct her, and kiss her on the forehead before I rise from the table and hold a hand out to her.
“Ay, Dios,” Javi and Paloma say together, and burst out laughing at the timing.
Harlowe and I stare at each other. She raises an eyebrow at me and I just shake my head. Something tells me I made the right call in who my wingman was for the evening and those two will be quite happy about their situation now. I put my hand on the small of her back and look at our friends.
“You two be safe. Have fun. Don”t do anything I wouldn’t do.” I wink at Javi, who just shakes his head back, but the smile on his face tells me everything.