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"I picked your lock," Harper says with a shrug, her attention nonchalantly on her nails.
"What?" she replies to our stunned expressions, her eyebrows arching in mock innocence. "I did." She turns to Julian, her gaze sharp. "Security here is lacking. That's a warning, Cowboy. My other half lives here, so make sure you get it fixed. All I had to do to get past the guard at the gate was flash a tit.”
My mouth drops open in shock. "You did not!" I screech, my voice an octave higher than normal.
Harper clutches her stomach, doubling over with laughter. "Of course, I didn't! But your face – it's priceless."
Julian lets out a long, relieved sigh, shaking his head. "Lord, help me," he mutters.
Harper straightens up, still chuckling. "I'm on your list at the front gate, but I did pick the lock on your front door."
“We're gonna need another vacation after this visit," Julian replies coolly, his fingers pressing slightly into my hips.
"A vacation after a vacation means you lived it up." Harper chimes in. “I bought you a deadbolt, too,” she adds, turning to grab a plastic bag and pulling out the deadbolt. “And Marsha, let me borrow her drill,” she says, pointing to an old power drill on the side table beside my door.
“Who’s Marsha?” I ask, dropping my bag next to the drill.
“Your building’s maintenance woman. Badass chick, if you ask me. She used to work on oil rigs. The stories she has,” Harper waves her hand.
“I thought the maintenance person was a guy,” I mumble, recalling the man who fixed the sprinkler head in my apartment.
“No, Marsha’s been here since it opened. Did you know there were swingers on the second floor? They got so many noise complaints they eventually moved out,” she says, ripping open the deadbolt packaging and grabbing the drill. Her finger presses the trigger, and the drill powers to life. A devilish smile grows across Harper’s face.
“You with a drill scares the shit out of me,” Julian remarks well, eyeing Harper warily.
“Oh, it should,” Harper replies, a mischievous glint in her eye as she theatrically blows on the tip of the drill, pretending it's a just-fired gun.
“I’d offer to help, but frankly, I’m rather fond of my balls,” Julian states, eliciting a laugh from me. It’s a well-known fact, after all, that Harper has threatened to relieve various men of their most prized possessions.
“Did I ever mention how much I appreciate his intelligence?” Harper turns to me, admiration laced with humor in her voice. “Oh, I nearly forgot! I ordered that sex swing you never knew you needed. I was thinking right there,” she points emphatically towards an arch near my entryway, “would be perfect. It's the ideal welcome sign, don't you think? Marsha, bless her heart, assured me the ceiling beams are more than capable of supporting the weight.”
“Shut up,” I groan, shaking my head in mock despair. “There will be no such swings in this house.”
“Oh, come on,” Harper protests, turning to Julian, seeking an ally in her playful scheming.
He shakes his head, grinning. “I don’t need props to spice up our love life.”
Harper’s jaw practically hits the floor. “No way! Have you been busy clearing out her cobwebs?” She claps her hands in delight, the sound slightly muffled by the drill in her grip. “You did, didn't you!” Her voice is a blend of glee and incredulity.
She turns those devilish blue eyes on me, "Did he put the pee pee in the hole and make you see fireworks?"
"Harper!" I scream, then I slap my forehead because there is no stopping her. I just need to let her run her course. It's not like I wasn't going to tell my bestie I had the best sex of my life. I just didn't want to discuss it in front of Julian.
"It's fine," Julian whispers, sensing my worry and distress. He steps closer to me and places his hand on my back. Kent is my brother, remember? I'm used to this," he assures me, but what Harper does next makes him rethink his words.
"Oh, thank heavens!" Harper exclaims, her face lighting up like she's just won the lottery. With a flair for the dramatic, she kneels down, placing the drill ceremoniously on the floor.
Julian leans in, whispering to me, “What’s she doing?”
“Shhh,” Harper scolds, barely containing a smirk. She folds her hands in mock prayer, closes her eyes, and bows her head. “Dear Lord, thank you for sending Julian into our lives,” she intones with mock solemnity.
“Harper,” I hiss, my embarrassment skyrocketing. I roll my eyes, muttering to Julian as I kick off my shoes beside the doormat, “Just ignore her.”
Harper continues, unfazed, “Today, we gather to give thanks that my best friend won't end up a crazy cat lady drowning in a sea of hairy pussy cats with attitude. Lord, I pray Julian keeps delivering the earth-shattering experiences for my bestie. Amen to that!” She opens her eyes and cheekily winks at Julian.
“Harper,” Julian starts, his voice laden with amusement, “I can honestly say I've never met anyone like you, and I pray,” he emphasizes, “to never meet another. One Harper in my life is more than enough.”
I bite my bottom lip, trying to stifle a giggle. Most men would sprint away from a woman with a bestie like Harper. Andrew even tried to drive a wedge between us. Another reason I adore Julian is that he doesn't want to change me. He embraces all my quirks.
