Page 95

The words landed like blows. Not because they were cruel, but because they were true.

"Incompatible. I hate that word," I said.

"So do I. But it's accurate." She took another sip. "Doesn't make this easier, though, does it?"

"No."

"Doesn't make me want you less."

"No."

"Doesn't make any of this make sense."

"Definitely not."

We stood there, two people caught between wanting and reality, neither willing to walk away but both knowing we should.

Harper's phone buzzed. She glanced at it. "Mia's asking if I'm okay."

"Are you?"

"Not even a little bit." She looked at me, and her eyes were rimmed with red. She was hurting, and if I hadn't already been hurting too, it would've been enough to crack my own pain wide open. ”But I'm still standing here. Still talking to you. Still hoping you're going to say what makes this possible when we both know you won't."

"What do you want me to say?"

"I don't know. Maybe that this thing between us is worth taking risks for." She shook her head. "But I can't ask you to come out for me. That's not fair to you. You have to do it on your own timeline, for your own reasons. If you ever do it at all."

"And if I'm never ready?"

"Then we stay friends, and I eventually stop wanting you so badly it hurts to breathe." She said it lightly, but her voice cracked on the last word. "Easy."

"That doesn't sound easy."

"It really, really isn't."

The bar was getting more crowded. Someone bumped into Harper again, and this time when I caught her, I didn't let go. My hands found her waist like they belonged there, and she leaned into the touch for just a moment before catching herself.

"We can't keep doing this," she said, but she didn't pull away. "Standing this close. Touching like this. Looking at each other like—"

"Like what?"

"Like we're both starving, and the other person is a feast we're not allowed to have."

That was exactly what it felt like. I could feel the heat of her body through the Fangs jersey. Could smell her citrusy perfume. Could see the pulse point in her throat beating rapidly.

"Tell me to stop," I said quietly. "Tell me to walk away right now, and I will."

"I don't want you to walk away."

"What do you want?"

"I want—" She stopped, swallowing hard. Her hands came up to rest on my forearms, where I was still holding her waist. "I want to stop being sensible. I want to stop thinking about tomorrow and all the reasons this won't work. I want to stop being the mature one who sets boundaries and respects them."

My heart was pounding so hard I could feel it in my throat. "Harper—"

"I want you to take me somewhere private and finish what we started the other night." The words came out of her in a rush, knocking ‌the air from my lungs. "I want your hands on me. I want to stop pretending I don't think about that kiss constantly. I want—" She looked up at me, and her eyes were dark with want. "I want to make another terrible decision with you."

Every rational thought in my brain evaporated. "What are you saying?"