Chapter 9
Harbor
Her car window is down despite the chill in the air as I take the long way back to her place. The wind blowing through the loose strands of Lark’s hair twist like tiny tornadoes, making it hard to look away. Something is comforting about not seeing one worry wrinkle her face when she’s with me.
Beacon is small town in all ways except for the university. The school hosts the largest population in the area at thirty-three thousand students. Pre-med is much smaller, but the school has a great reputation, so it’s one of the more popular majors.
I’m still perplexed by how I’d never seen her before we shared a class this semester. Was I not paying attention? It’s a large school, so maybe our paths never crossed before.
If I follow Lark’s reasoning, our “meet cute” was in the hands of fate. If I gave that much credence to superstitions, then we met when we were supposed to. Doesn’t matter when we met, though, only that we did meet.
I find myself forcing my eyes to the road ahead instead of staring at her like the stalker I am.
But there’s nothing typical about her. The girls in my world have hair with every strand in place and lip injections to have the perfect pout for social media posts.
By the small rise in the middle of Lark’s nose, I’m sure she hasn’t had anything about her “corrected,” as others call it.
Her body’s an aphrodisiac, whetting my palate. With a face perfect exactly as it is—natural and confident—an inner beauty shines through in the simplest of glances we’re sharing.
“Why are you staring at me?” she asks, no accusation woven in her tone, just curiosity.
I tighten my grip on the steering wheel and exhale a puff of air. “Sorry. It’s a bad habit.”
She angles her knees toward me. “You make it a habit of staring at people?”
“No.” I glance at her with a smirk fully in place. “Just you. You’re very distracting.”
“Good or bad?”
“Good distracting. Bad for our safety.”
She reaches over and presses her fingers to my cheek until I’m facing forward again. I chuckle because she doesn’t manage to wipe the smile away. In fact, it grew wider. “Eyes on the road, mister.”
“I thought you liked to take risks. Something about pain being worth it.”
The question leaves her in silence but not long enough to be concerned. “I was speaking of the heart, not life-or-death situations.”
“Ah. That makes sense.” I give her a wink. “Don’t worry. I’ll get you home safely.”
She looks at me with the moonlight pouring in and shining in her eyes. “Harbor?”
I like the way my name rolls off her tongue and kisses her lips.
“Yeah?”
“Can I tell you a secret?”
“Another one? I feel honored,” I tease her after the last one she shared with me, which wasn’t much of a secret.
“Maybe they’re not so much secrets as confessions.”
“Okay, confession or secret, I won’t share with anyone else.”
Her smile warms me more than the car’s heater ever could. “I rarely go out, but I’m glad I went out with you tonight.”
“Me too. It was good spending time with you.”
I slow down to turn left, which goes against every urge inside telling me to keep driving just to steal a few extra minutes of her time. “Can I ask you something, Lark?”
“I don’t have anything to hide.”
Everyone has something to hide. But I believe her. “Why’d you decide to come?”
Her eyes return to me as she snuggles up on the passenger’s seat. “You made me an offer I couldn’t refuse.”
“Dinner?”
“Moretti’s.”
I click my tongue in amusement. “Noted.” I turn onto her street, dreading the night coming to an end.
She says, “You know . . .” I glance her way. “It wasn’t just the restaurant.”
“Oh yeah? What was it?”
“It was also the company. You are definitely better than a can of frank and beans any day.” She gives me a flirty wink, holding her sexy own with me.
I burst out laughing. “So what you’re saying is I was right.”
“You weren’t wrong.”
I catch her smile fading just as I pull up to the curb in front of her house. She looks at the house for a long beat or two, and then says, “You can come in if you want to.”
I’ve wanted this offer since the minute I laid eyes on her at the beginning of the semester.
Standing so close to her, touching her chin, and being alone with her, there’s nothing else I’ve been able to think about other than what it would be like to sleep with her.
Even tonight, in her apartment earlier, it felt right being alone with Lark, but not taking advantage of the situation.
Now, she’s rolling out the red carpet for me and offering me a golden ticket inside her world, and maybe even her bed.
My fingers tighten around the steering wheel as I mentally kick my own ass for what I’m about to do.
“It’s been a nice night, and although I’d like to go in .
. .” Her gaze is locked on mine, but rejection doesn’t taint it.
“I should probably get going and let you study.”
A gentle nod rocks her head as she reaches for the handle. “You’re right. Anyway, we always have class tomorrow. Thank you for dinner.”
“You’re welcome, but you still owe me.”
She grins. “Don’t worry, I’ll pay up.” Opening the door, she steps out before I have time to get out and run around the car to do it for her. I stop on the sidewalk, though, after making my best effort. She says, “I’ll see you tomorrow, Harbor.”
I raise my hand. “Yeah, tomorrow.” I wait as she lets herself in, only looking back to give a quick wave of her hand before she’s inside.
There’s nothing but a quiet apartment to rush back to but I decide to follow her lead and study. It would make my parents proud to hear about this. Not that I’ll send them an alert or anything, but it’s always a good hand to hold in my back pocket for the next time I get into trouble.
Not fifteen minutes later, I’m tossing my keys onto the kitchen counter, listening to them slide across the slick surface as I walk straight to the bedroom.
Yanking off my sweater, I toss it in the closet.
It lands on a shelf before it falls to the floor.
I unbutton the shirt and then tug the undershirt off, tossing both in a hamper.
After I’ve stripped down to my boxers, I head back into the living room and tap my keyboard, bringing my computer to life.
I need my thoughts to detour to anything other than the woman I just drove away from.
I’m a fucking idiot for turning down her offer.
If I don’t get engrossed in something else, I’ll end up getting dressed and heading right back over there.
My dick is hard and in need of some relief.
I return to the bedroom and cross through to the bathroom to start the shower.
I should turn the cold water on so I can get on with my night, but every time I think of Lark, I can’t concentrate on anything other than the way the candle flickering reflected in her eyes when she looked at me with a smile, the little bow at the top of her lips, and the tiny mark on her chin that she didn’t bother covering.
I’m starting to believe it’s the culprit that brought us together.
I tug down my boxer briefs and step under the warm water. Yeah, I’m weak to that body of hers. I tilt my head under, getting my hair wet. It feels good as the heat penetrates beneath my skin, easing my muscles and relaxing my mind.
The swell of her hips.
The rising and falling of her chest.
The sound of her lips parting just before she licks them.
Taking hold of my erection, I let the images of her fill my head as my senses kick in from when I stood so close to her when she was seated on the cabinet in front of me as I bandaged her chin.
I remember her smelling of springtime and freshly picked flowers, and her skin being as soft as a rose petal.
I breathed her in just to taste a part of her.
Stroking slowly, the urge to release builds inside me as memories come flooding back—the sound of her whispers as if we were Bonnie and Clyde, just the two of us escaping together.
I pick up my pace.
Pinning my palm to the shower wall, I can see her as clearly as if she were here now. Her eyes were closed, and her trust on full display. I could have leaned in to kiss her vulnerabilities, but I savored the sight of her instead. Her body so close to mine in the doorway . . .
My hold grows tighter as an orgasm rushes forward.
That look in her eye . . .
The sway of her ass . . .
The way she looked back as if she wished she could stay . . .
“Lark. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” My voice trails off, the last words faint under the sound of the shower as I lean against the cold tiles to recuperate.
The release? Worth it.
A poke to the ribs startles me, and I turn around. “Busted,” Lark says, beaming in victory.
Turning around, I lean against the brick building to face her. I take the high road . . . Okay, I don’t, but I do feign innocence. “Busted me doing what? Hanging out before class?”
She smirks, crossing her arms over her chest with a large tumbler in her hand. Shrugging it off, she says, “Aw, come on, Harbor. Don’t be a poor sport. Admit it, you were waiting for me.”
“Hi, Harbor,” some girl I met at a party last year purrs as she passes behind Lark.
Lark rolls her eyes, but then something dawns in her eyes, and she sucks in a breath. “Oh my God, you weren’t waiting for me, were you? I’m so sorry. Ugh.” She tries to escape through the double doors, but I catch the tail of her sweatshirt and tug her back to me.
“No. I wasn’t waiting for anyone else.” I get her to turn around. She leans against the wall where I was just a moment earlier. Pink-cheeked and giggling, she looks up at me with bright-green eyes catching the sunlight inside.
The golden morning highlights the beauty that some might miss when passing by, rushing in their lives instead of soaking her in. Lighter strands that have forgotten to fade after last summer hang freely around her face and her lips, just moistened, glisten like an invitation.
And here the best I did was narrow her eye color down to green, but they’re so much more than I had previously seen. Gold flecks shine in the sunlight as if I’ve discovered treasure.
Fumbling for words that could do her justice, I lean in, so close to kissing her and easing my misery from the anticipation.
“Harbor?” she whispers, her lips barely parted as her hand fists my shirt.
“I was stalking you.”
Her head jerks back and a restrained smile tilts the corners of her mouth upward.
What the fuck am I saying?
I turn to make a quick getaway, but she holds tighter to my shirt, and with both hands, she brings me back to her. “I knew it,” she says, giggling.
“And I’m humiliated.” I run my hand through my hair. “You’re fucking with my cool.”
She doesn’t give me any sympathy, though.
Not surprised by how she’s eating this up.
“I’m not fucking with anything. You don’t need cool with me.
You just need to be you and the you you’re being is pretty darn smooth.
” Closing the space between us, she adds, “Do you know how hard it was to walk inside that house last night with you standing by your car looking like Jake Ryan?”
“Who?”
“It’s a movie.”
“Ah. Are you saying I give main character energy?”
“You could most definitely be the hero of a story.”
I plant my right hand on the brick wall above her head. “What about your story?”
The smile has softened like her gaze. Still holding me close, she says, “Yes.”
Nothing more is needed. I cup her cheek with my left hand and tilt down. “I’m going to kiss you, Lark Summerlin.”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way, Harbor Westcott.”
Our lips come together, meeting in the middle as if she couldn’t wait any longer than me. Pillow-soft pressure turns heated when our lips part and our tongues meet, tangling together for the first time.
The taste of her is just the appetizer. My body presses to hers, sending her against the brick wall and giving us purchase against each other. Her hands run over my chest as I caress her cheek and slide my hand to the slope of her shoulder.
When I hear some guy say, “Get a room,” I pull myself off her because not only is that guy right, but I don’t want to sit through class as hard as a rock.
Fuck.
Too late.
Lark tucks strands that have escaped the elastic on her head behind her ear and then runs her fingers on my chest. “So we kissed.”
Grinning, I say, “We did kiss.” I give her enough space to decide what she wants to do next.
Taking my hand, she leads me to the door. “What does it mean?”
I shift to her side. “Guess it means we’re main characters in each other’s stories.”
Stealing a glance in her direction, she grins. “Too soon to root for a happily ever after?”
As soon as we enter the building, I wrap my arm over her shoulder and hold her close. “Guess it depends on the risk.”
She laughs, the sound a melody to my ears. “I’ll take my chances.”