35. Elliot #2
She gasped and twisted in my arms. This time I let go and grabbed her, lifting her up to sit on the counter so we could get through this conversation and hopefully move forward with less baggage behind us.
I moved my hands to cup her face, tilting it up to me.
I spoke the three words I had never said out loud to anyone in my life: “I love you, Harper.”
She shook her head, tears streaming down her face. I kissed her nose quickly, testing the waters, then pulled back so she could see my eyes.
I repeated, “I love you. I think I have from that first night. But I let all the poisonous voices in because love at first sight doesn’t exist, we didn't know each other that long, it was just an arrangement. Those were just some things that were floating around in my head, telling me what I was feeling wasn’t real.
Then came the voice that told me I wasn’t good enough, you would never choose someone like me, I was unlovable.
I didn’t acknowledge what part of me always knew: I loved you, and I hurt you.
Because I was stupid and scared and did not know how to handle the feelings that were so new to me.
But I know it is the realest thing I have ever felt.
So don't shake your head at me, don't tell me I don't love you. Because I may have been late to the knowledge and I am so sorry for everything I did and said… But I fucking love you.”
I was breathing hard after that tirade of emotional acknowledgement.
Harper was staring at me with tears streaming down her face, her lower lip trembling.
She opened her mouth, froze, then closed it.
She seemed to be struggling, so I kissed her forehead and told her it was okay.
She didn’t need to say it right now. I pulled back again and looked down at her lips.
We were so close, and I felt like I needed to kiss her as much as I needed oxygen.
Tired of holding myself back, tired of the games, I said what I was feeling and needed.
“I need to kiss you.”
Harper leaned in closer, but then sat upright, her eyes going wide. I leaned in, chasing her, and she held up a finger to my lips. She bit her bottom lip, which made me groan, and then said, “Oliver kissed me.”
That knowledge caused me to growl around her finger. In our little bubble, I had completely forgotten the glitter freckle-loving good guy.
I moved to pull away, wondering if they were still together, and this time Harper stopped me by wrapping her legs around my waist, saying, “Elliot, stop. It is your turn to listen.”
That had me freezing because she was right.
I was just demanding she listen to me, and she was the wronged party in this.
Harper kept her finger pressed to my lips while she said, “He asked if I was in love with you and I think maybe part of him had wondered what we could be like together. Our families had always been friends; he and Will were very close. If something could come from us, it would just make sense.”
I growled again, and Harper fucking grinned, her cheeks still tear streaked and she was grinning at my jealously and somehow that gave me hope.
She continued, saying, “But no matter what we added up to on paper, or how comfortable we were together, we didn’t have that spark, and after he saw us together at the foundation event, he kissed me to see if there was even anything worth pursuing.
But I honestly believe he did it to prove to me what I felt about you, even though I was hurt. ”
Harper dropped her finger from my mouth, and I saw that as a green light. I moved in slowly, giving her time to react, push me away, or say no. But she didn’t move; her eyes were almost timid as I moved closer, my mouth hovering over hers, and like magnets our lips met.
The kiss was soft at first, almost apologetic. Then she wrapped her arms around the back of my neck, deepening the kiss. We kissed until we were both breathless, and I hesitantly pulled away.
I didn't want to stop, but I needed to gauge where we were. I needed to give Harper time to think over everything. And I was glad I did when she looked up at me and said, “We need to take this slow.”
That was most definitely not what I wanted. I wanted to go full steam into the sunset with her, but I knew she was in a vulnerable state.
So I swallowed what I wanted and nodded, asking, “What are you thinking?”
Harper studied me for a moment, seeming to have that conversation with herself that she had when she was nervous or feeling vulnerable.
I reached for our glass of wine, took a small sip and passed it to her. Giving her a minute to work through what she needed to work through.
Harper took a sip and then said, “I know you can’t stay here forever, but I…”
I cut her off quickly, “I can stay as long as you want me to, Harper.”
She looked up at me, seeming so young and vulnerable, “But…”
I kissed her nose quickly because that wasn’t too fast, right? Silencing her before reaffirming, “No buts, I can work from here and if not it is only a few hours' commute on your daddy’s plane.”
Harper laughed, and I wanted to hear that sound more. She took another sip and then passed the wine to me, saying, “I think we should date each other.”
I cocked my eyebrow in question, because we had gone on several dates, but Harper kept going, “For real this time. No agenda or PR schedule. We date to get to know each other and all the crazy baggage we both carry. We have a real relationship like normal people do.”
And I could see it then, the need for her to feel like a real, normal person and not this media personality that everyone either wanted to see put on a pedestal or torn down. She wanted a real, everyday relationship.
I smiled at her, and she looked a little nervous. She should. I was about to date the shit out of her.