Stealing Harper

We continued to stare at each other before I leaned back in the chair with a groan and raked my hands down my face. “I love her.”

“Know that.”

“She loves me, too.” I kept my eyes trained on the ceiling and kept talking. “Spent that night and the next morning with her.”

“Shit, Chase.”

“And, well, you know everyone came back early. Princess got scared, and went back to Brandon.”

“And you disappeared.”

“Yep.” I sighed heavily and looked back at him. “She said she needed time, but I know she doesn’t. I’ve messed things up with her too much from the begi

“So what are you go

“I don’t know. Told Mom and Dad this morning that I was thinking about moving away from San Diego after graduation to get away from them. But I just caught a glimpse of her for the first time in weeks, and I don’t think I can do that. I just can’t stay away from her.”

The door flew open, and Brandon didn’t even enter the room fully as he yelled, “Harper fainted, and she’s not waking up.”

My heart skipped a beat, and I was out of the chair and racing after him, with Brad right behind me before I fully registered what he had said. When I got to the kitchen, my princess, my entire world, was lying on the ground covered in sweat. Her eyes were wide open and bouncing between Bree, Brandon, Brad, and me.

Brandon went down on his knees next to her, and I gripped the island next to me. I wanted to be the one to make sure she was okay. “She’s awake?” he asked Bree.

“She’s okay, Chase,” Brad said low enough so only I could hear, and clapped my shoulder once. “She’s fine, calm down.”

There was a loud thud, followed by a moan from Harper. “Ow.”

I gripped the counter harder when Brandon reached for her, and her eyes locked on him. “Brad, get the couch ready for her.”

He walked away from me, and I worked on controlling my breathing as I watched my best friend take care of her. I wanted to hate him, but I couldn’t. Harper asked if she’d fallen asleep in the kitchen, and for the first time since Brandon had rushed into the bedroom, I felt like laughing.

Bree laughed, but it sounded shaky. “Not quite. You passed out.”

“I did?” Harper’s already-wide eyes got even wider, and she looked scared.

“Yeah, Harper,” Bree responded. “Scared the crap out of us, too.”

Brad came back into the kitchen. “Couch is ready, so get her over there.”

Brandon went from his knees to a crouch and looked up at both Brad and me, but we were already stepping toward her. We’d all seen Brandon carry Harper more than enough times, and Lord knew I could carry that girl; but I hadn’t seen her go down, and none of us knew what was wrong with her. So with me at her head and shoulders, Brad holding her legs and Brandon carrying her body, we walked her over to the couch.

“I’m fine,” Harper groaned, and tried to sit up once we had her on the couch. “You’re all being ridiculous.”

Brandon looked at her like she was crazy and pushed her gently back down. “Sweetheart, you were out for—”

“I get that, but I’m fine now.” She sighed and rolled her eyes at the same time her stomach growled loudly. She smiled and pointed at her stomach. “See, I’m fine.”

It felt like I couldn’t breathe. Something as ridiculous as her stomach growling, and all of a sudden all I could see was us in my bedroom, her naked body on top of mine as she arched against me. That had been the best morning of my life, and I would give anything to go back and replay it over and over.

“Uh, Brad?” Harper’s voice snapped me back to the present, and I saw her wince as she looked at Brad holding a small towel to her leg. “Could you ease up? You’re hurting me.” Her face fell when she saw him stand up with the bloody cloth. “What the—”

“You dropped your mug, and a big chunk sliced your leg pretty good,” Brandon hurried to tell her what happened, and his head dipped in to kiss her neck. Harper’s eyelids fluttered shut, and she inhaled deeply.

The pain in my chest intensified, and once I knew she was all right, I couldn’t stand to be in the room with them anymore. I hung my head and stepped away from all of them, wishing for the thousandth time I could go back in time to when I first met that gray-eyed girl and do everything differently.

I walked back into Brad’s room to grab my keys, and when I turned to leave, he was standing in the doorway. “You leaving again?” When I just nodded, he asked, “For how long this time?”

“I don’t know, man, I’ll probably keep staying at my parents. Watching her go in and out of his room would kill me. But I’ll be around.” He pointedly looked at the keys in my hand, and I raked my free hand over my face. “Have to get to class, then to the shop. You guys surfing at our spot tomorrow?”

“Always.”

“All right, I’ll be there.”

Brad gri

“Where’ve you been, bro? I haven’t seen you for more than ten seconds since I got back.”

“Just been busy with the shop.” I shrugged. “Mom and Dad’s house is closer to work. It’s easier just going back there.” I heard Bree and Harper talking down the hall toward Brandon’s room, and looked up at him. “She okay?”

“Harper? She’ll be fine. Bree said she hasn’t eaten since yesterday morning; I’m guessing that’s it.”

I looked back at the breakfast he was making her and thought about the only time I’d ever cooked for her and how my life had turned to shit while I was doing it. “Well, take care of her.”

Brandon’s eyes widened before narrowing as his brow bunched together, but before he could say anything else, I took off for the front door and left for school.

“NO FUCKING WONDER your parents kicked you out of their house.”

My eyes widened, and I looked over at Brian and another artist, Jeff.

“If this is how you looked all the time, I’d kick your ass out, too,” Brian finished as he moved aside some papers and hopped onto my counter at the shop. The door opened, and Jeff and I looked over to it, but Brian just sat there with a shit-eating grin. “Oh, by the way, Riss is coming to tell you off.”

“You’re serious, Brian? You called your wife to come yell at me?”

“Chachi!” Marissa snapped, and I groaned. “It has been a month. A month! You have two choices: grow a pair and ask her if she’s made up her mind yet or get over the bitch.”

“Marissa,” I growled in warning.

She smiled impishly. “That’s what I thought. So go ask her.”

“I can’t!” I flung my sketchbook onto the counter and crossed my arms over my chest. “She’s made up her mind. That’s it.”

“No, she told you to give her some time, and you have. You’re still freakin’ miserable, you’re only moving back into your house because your parents kicked you out of theirs, and she can’t get out of what she did like this.”

“Like what?”

“She can’t tell you she needs time to decide just for you to ignore the issue completely. That’s letting her get off easy. She cheats on her boyfriend and goes back to him without consequences? Fuck that, Chach. Your girl needs to face the shit hole she’s made, and she’s never going to if you just sit here wanting her from a distance. Otherwise, she’s just going to keep doing it, whether it’s with you again or someone—”

“I’m the one who pushed her into all this! I pushed her away, pushed her right into his arms. She didn’t do anything, I’m the one who created this mess. So stop talking about her like she’s a whore!”

“Well, if it talks like a whore, spreads its legs like a—”

“Marissa!” I uncrossed my arms and stepped right up to her. “Swear to God, if you know what’s good for you, you’ll shut the fuck up. Now. I don’t give a shit that you’re Brian’s wife or that you’re a woman. You don’t fucking talk about my girl like that again. No matter who she chooses tonight. You got me?”