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Not that I would have anything to do with Harper. I’m positive that whatever chemical imbalance I’m currently feeling is just a by-product of not having my needs sated for such a prolonged time. Hell, I’m six-four, two-hundred-and-fifty-pounds, and thrumming with testosterone. It’s probably unhealthy to have gone without for as long as I have.
But I’m ninety-nine percent sure that Harper isn’t the chick for that. One, she’s only twenty-eight, and even though I’m aware that she’s not wearing a ring, that doesn’t mean that she doesn’t have a boyfriend. Or boyfriends. I steel my jaw and try to push aside the thought of multiple guys trying to get near to her.
And two, I don’t even know what I need right now. I’ve been out of the game for so long that I can barely remember if it was worth playing.
I feel a protesting flex down south. My bodydefinitelythinks that the game is worth playing.
I’m left with two options. I either keep beating my meat on my own, or get out there and consider a hook-up. If Harper’s an impossibility then I need to think of some other options.
I run a hand down my face and feel the scratch of stubble that I really ought to shave off.
I need to get laid, like yesterday.
I toss the hand-towel down on the counter after I put the last of the cutlery away and then I turn to face Tate fully, sensing that he’s a combination of curious and unsure about my motives to temporarily relocate closer to the site, emotions that put a boyish look in his eyes. They make me see him as a kid again, rather than an almost twenty-two year old man with a fiancée who’s in college.
“Let’s hear it,” I say to him, giving him the all-clear to voice his concerns.
He shifts a little, glances out of the kitchen window. Then he says, “You wanna… stay in a motel. Instead of” – he looks around the foyer – “your house.”
My eyes crease around the edges. “Well, it sounds dumb when you put it likethat,” I say, my mouth slanting into a half-smile because I’m kind of messing with him. “I’m… sampling the local hospitality. Seeing if there’s anything Pine Hills might be missing whilst we fix it up.”
He stares at me blankly. I’ve already told him exactly why I’m relocating to a motel for a little while and I know that he’d do the exact same thing if he was in my position. And I know that because he literally travels to check in on his fiancée every weekend without fail.
“How long do you think you’ll be staying in the motel? The reno still has a month and a half to go, minimum.” His expression tells me that he doesn’t like the idea of his dad staying in a stop-off motel for such a prolonged period of time.
“Haven’t decided. Maybe a couple weeks, when I’m certain that our cold-caller’s history. Ideally not the whole month and a half but I’ll just have to wait and see.”
He nods his head. Then, quiet and a little begrudging, he finally murmurs, “I guess I’d do the same.”
I bite back a smile and say, “I know you would, kid.”
I give his shoulder a squeeze before he heads out onto the porch and a sharp warmth spreads in my chest. I fold my arms and lean against the doorframe as I watch him take off into the night.
The apple didn’t fall far at all.
Chapter 7
Harper
“You should come home, buttercup.”
My mom’s voice is kind but firm as it comes rattling through the tiny speaker in my cell.
I’ve walked all the way from the Pine Hills site to the nearby town instead of dialling for a cab like I usually would, and the journey seemed like a good time to have one of my twice-weekly check-ins with my mom. I had intended to exercise, call, and get some of that fresh small town air on route to buying my groceries, but now the sky is full of thick rolling clouds and I’m dressed in denim shorts and a short-sleeved v-neck. I give the sky another hasty glance and swap my phone from one hand to the other.
“That’s not an option,” I say, horror trickling through me as the first wet dots appear on the blacktop.
“What, because you’ll see them? Because you’ll have to face the reality of the situation? Yes, you will, but you can handle it, Harper. Do not throw away your career just because you’re scared of bumping into two narcissists. If everyone did that then there would not be a single soul left in the whole county.”
“I don’t want to be there right now, and I’m not contractually joined to any projects at the moment. Maybe this is a good time for me to see what else this country’s got to offer.”
“In Pine Hills?” she asks sceptically. “And what is an artist like you going to spend her time doing in Pine Hills, for this length of time? It’s been three weeks. Are you eloping?”
I tilt my head and roll my eyes. A fat raindrop does a hit-and-run down my clavicle. “I’ve been writing for seven years without a break, mom. I need this.”
“Is that so.” Her voice is drier than a paper towel. “Okay, sure, so how’s the ‘supervising’ going?”
I bite back a smile. My mom is the person who helped me fandangle this arrangement in the first place, only she probably didn’t expect me to actually stay here for longer than one night. She’s the CEO of Ray Corp, making and maintaining a plethora of magical small town vacation properties, and I’m her workaholic daughter who ironically never vacations. I’m not the free-spirited mess with a personality disorder who puts her life’s responsibilities onto everyone else around her.
