Page 38 of One More Chance
Honestly, I’m surprised she’s this calm at all considering I fondled her all the way to O-town last night. Oh shit, what if she doesn’t remember?
I shove my fork into the hash browns and take a bite.
“Thank you,” she says.
“No problem. Just wanted to nurse the hangover.”
“No, I mean for last night. Well, this too. But, I meant for last night,” she clarifies.
“It feels weird to say you’re welcome for an orgasm,” I admit, starting to laugh.
Harper starts choking on her bite of hash brown and slaps me in the arm. What the hell is happening? This is officially the strangest fucking friendship ever. Can this even be classified as a friendship anymore?
I take a sip of coffee and clear my throat. “Harper?”
“Yeah?”
“What are we doing exactly?”
She exhales, her shoulders sinking a little. After a moment, she says, “I’m not sure. Maybe we should stop the rest of the stuff and just be normal friends. Keep it simple.” She sighs, shrugging.
Okay, ouch.
Can’t say it didn’t suck to hear that. I’m not one of those men with a fragile ego, but come on. I send you spiraling down Orgasm Drive and you put it in reverse and wave goodbye? I thought we were going to be full steam ahead on this thing, not going backwards.
“Right. Got it,” I say. “No problem.”
Harper shovels more hash browns into her mouth. “Probably for the best, you know?”
“Heard you loud and clear.” I nod, not needing any further explanation for what’s happening. She’s not interested. I get it. She needs a Steve in her life. Maybe a Donald. I’m clearly not what she’s looking for.
“Are you okay?” she asks.
“Yeah, I’m good. I’m gonna go, let you get rested up and on with your day. I need to get going too.” I stand, rubbing my hands down the front of my pants before I head for the door.
“I’ll text you later?” she asks, uncertainty in her voice.
“Yeah, sure.” I step out, shut the door behind me, and head downstairs. Stepping out onto the porch, I notice Cora on the swing.
“Hey, bub, how’s it going?”
“Terrible. This is terrible.”
“Come sit,” she says.
I do, and throw my head back in the swing, pressing my eyes shut and pinching the bridge of my nose.
“Tell your big sister what’s going on,” she says.
“I’ve just royally fucked up. That’s all. I overestimated my ability to be detached. And underestimated Harper’s ability to unknowingly charm me and then wound me.”
“That’s a little dramatic, don’t you think?” she asks, giggling.
“No.”
“Why don’t you just tell her you like her?”
I rub my forehead, realizing how complicated the truth makes things. “Then what? Leave in a week?”