by Sybil Smith
"It's old and worn out, nothing special…"
Her eyes mist over and she reaches over to take it from my hands. She holds it in front of her studying it like it's the first hoodie she's ever seen in her life.
"No, Roma. It's…perfect," she chokes out as a few tears roll down her cheeks. "No one's ever purposely given me something of theirs before."
Well…now I kind of feel like an asshole since I assumed her sweatshirt was someone else's. She did say 'purposely' though, so it still could be something someone left behind. I mentally shake that thought away. Since I gave her mine, maybe I'll never have to see it again. She looks up and starts smiling despite how bad I know she must feel. I may have been selfish in why I gave it to her, but I'm really glad I fucking did.
She brings it up and presses it against her chest like she'd kill me if I tried to take it back. I can tell she hasn't been taken care of like she deserves to have been, just by the way she's treating it like it's the best thing she's ever been given. Hell, for all I know it is the best thing she's ever been given. And I fucking hate that. I hate that Harper gives so much to everyone else, but nothing is ever given to her. It's not like she asks for much. I mean…she's never asked for anything from me, but has given me all the fucking patience in the damn world 'cause I'm too screwed up to make a move on her yet. I can't tell if she doesn't know how to ask or if she doesn't think she's worthy of anything more than what she's been getting. But she is worth more. And I want to show her how much more she's worth. Even if that leads to her figuring out she's worth more than what I can offer her.
She doesn't put it on, she just slides down onto her side and pushes it under her head like a pillow. Splotches of it turn dark gray from her tears. I reach over and gently wipe the rest of them off her cheeks.
"Thank you, Roma. Thank you so, very much."
The sincerity in her voice tugs at my heart. It makes me realize I want to be the one to give her everything she's ever wanted, even if she doesn't know how to ask for it. I want to be the one that makes her happier than she's ever been in her life. It's going to be hard as hell. I'm controlling and overbearing and way too many other things to list. Five years' worth of shitty habits is going to be hard to break. But I'm willing to try and change all of that. I want to change all of that. For her.
Her eyelids are dropping and I can tell she's almost down for the count. I reach back over and run my fingers down her cheek. Her skin is so soft, I'm almost jealous. I want to touch it forever. But, it's getting late, so I stand up and start to walk to the door.
"Roma?" I stop right in my tracks. Shit. I know what's coming next. My heart starts pounding in my chest. I turn around and look at her. She's sitting up now, definitely alert. Even though she's sick and her hair is all over the place, I swear I have never seen anything more fucking beautiful in my whole life. She cocks her head and I definitely know what she's about to say.
"Aren't you going to stay?"
Shit. I knew it. I've been asked this question more times than I can count. But never by anyone I've actually cared about. And I care about Harper. So this time, it's a thousand times worse because I do want to stay. But I can't. I still have fucking nightmares because of him. Horrible ones that make me wake up fucking screaming and sweating and all other sorts of fucking shit. I'm not ready to let anyone see that part of me. Not even Harper.
"No, Harper, I can't." I can see her eyes start to water again, and damnit, I almost feel my resolve break. Almost. I walk over and sit on the edge of the bed next to her and stroke her arm.
"It's just not something I can do. It's something that I…that I can't control." And it's true. You can't control nightmares no matter how fucking hard you try. Her eyes give her away so damn easily. She knows exactly what I'm saying even though I don't.
"Okay, Roma. I won't try to make you do anything you can't do. I just want you to know…that I'd like you to stay for however long you can manage. If…if that's okay?"
I did tell her she could ask me for anything since she's sick. And I do really want to stay. Not the whole night, but for a little while. And I said I wanted to be the one that makes her happy. If staying for even a little while longer will make her happy, then that's what I'm going to do.
"I can stay here with you until you fall asleep. I know that won't be very long, but...it's longer than I've stayed with anyone…in a really long time."
I kind of feel pathetic saying that, but she gives me a smile just like she did on the Ferris Wheel when I squeezed her hand. I love being able to make her smile like that. It takes away just a little bit of how vulnerable I feel. I like that. Hopefully, I'll be able to do it again. Maybe soon. But, I'm not making any promises. I still like being in control. She's very, very slowly tearing down my walls, though. Just like I knew she would. Like I said, there's something about her.
She lays down and scoots over, leaving me room to crawl in behind her. She knows I don't like anyone touching my back, so she rolls over to where she's facing away from me. I scoot in behind her, as close as I can get.
"Don't hold my hands." I whisper it, even though I know she wouldn't dare try it. She knows I'd freak out and leave since it wasn't my decision. I'm willing to try and make her happy, but I'm not even close to ready for that yet.
I throw my arm over her waist and pull her close. I lay there smelling her vanilla shampoo until she's almost asleep. I can tell by the way her body relaxes against me. I lift my hand from her waist and up to her hair. I start running my hands through it gently. I massage her scalp and wind my fingers in and out until she's humming. Her hair is the softest thing I've ever felt and I hope I never scare her away just so I can touch it again. Every time I run my fingers through it, it lets out a little of the vanilla scent and I just can't get enough. I do this until she falls asleep and I'm pretty sure I'm about to fall asleep, too. I slink out of bed and leave, just like I said I would. Even though for the first time, I really don't want to.
Chapter 6
I've decided to take Harper ice-skating today. Okay, sort of. She may have passive-aggressively hinted at me to bring her by spewing off the historical facts of ice-skating for over an hour yesterday until I finally told her I would take her. That would've pissed me the hell off if anyone else had done that. But by the way she's sitting on the bench lacing up her skates with a smile plastered on her face, I don't even care that this was kind of her idea. I'm just glad I decided to bring her.
"Did you know that skates were originally sharpened, flattened bone strapped to the bottom of the foot, Roma?" She looks up at me and I can see her eyes light up. I can tell she's excited as hell, but her googlemouth lets me know that she's nervous. I didn't even ask if she's ever been before. Shit.
"No, I didn't.” I lace up my shoes and look to her. “Have you ever been ice skating before?"
She bites her lip and starts to stand up. She's wobbling and almost falls. Even if I was blind I could tell she hasn't ever put skates on before, but she shakes her head anyway. Shit. Even with thick as hell gloves on, I can't bring myself to hold her hands. How the fuck am I going to teach her how to skate if I can't even hold her fucking hands. I'm pretty sure she can see the worry all over my face 'cause she starts to sit back down. I can't have that. I want to make her happy. And if this is going to make her happy, then I'll have to improvise.
"It's okay. Come on. I’ve had plenty of practice."
“You have?”
I nod, grinning. “Hell yeah. I played hockey all my life. You’re in good hands.”
Well, metaphorical hands. I face her and wrap my hands around her forearms, close to her wrists. I can tell she's nervous about holding onto mine since she's so close to my hands, so I give her a nod and she latches on so tight I'm pretty sure I'll have bruises. I walk backwards until I'm out on the ice and she's still on the floor outside the rink. I start to pull her on out but she's not budging. It's like she's fucking glued to the ground. Her eyebrows are furrowed and she's working her bottom lip
between her teeth like there's no tomorrow. I can tell she's scared as hell. I know that feeling all too well. He made sure of it. I'll do fucking anything to keep her from feeling like that. Anything.
I slowly work my hands down from her arms and into her hands. I prepare for the overwhelming nausea to hit me like it does when I even think about someone else touching my hands, but it doesn't come. Maybe it's because our gloves are so thick I can pretend she's not touching them. Or maybe it's because I want so badly to protect her from feeling scared that it takes place of the queasiness. I don't know, but I'm glad as hell I'm not feeling sick right now. As soon as I squeeze her hands, she looks up at me confused. Almost instantly that's replaced with something I can only explain as pure and utter joy in her face. I really fucking think she's about to cry because she's so happy. I can't even help but smile back at her with the same intensity she's smiling at me.
"Come on, I've got you." And I do. I lead her out onto the ice still facing her. Her legs are wobbling and she's yet to look up from her feet. I'm glad it's the middle of a school day and no one else is here, because we are moving so slowly I'm pretty sure a fucking snail could beat us.
"Look up, Harper. It's easier if you don't focus on your feet." She looks up at me and she's still smiling. Memories of playing hockey as a kid kick in as I pick up the pace and pull her a little faster. She squeezes my hands a little harder and a quick wave of nausea washes over me. I knew it was too fucking good to be true. I don't wanna freak her the hell out or anything, so I move my hands to her hips and pull her around that way. If it bothers her, she doesn't show it. She just puts her arms up on my shoulders and keeps smiling.
After a couple of trips around the rink, I can feel her get more confident with her strides. I decide to let her go without telling her because then she'd just overanalyze it, I'm sure. That's just how she is. Big fucking mistake. She's down on the ice before I can even blink. Damnit. That's not at all what I had planned on letting her do. Fucking shit. I never should've let go of her. I lean down and help her up stand back up on shaky feet.
"Are you okay?" I have to ask because I know that had to fucking hurt. I bring my hands up to her face and rub her cheeks with my thumbs.
She nods and shakily says, "Yes."
It's only when I feel her breath on my face do I realize how close we are standing. My hands are still on her face and hers are gripping my coat at the waist even though there's no way in hell I'm going to let her go again. Her cheeks are a perfect shade of pink from the cold. Her eyes are so dark that I can't even see the gold in them anymore. Her lips are parted and I can feel every single breath she exhales against my chin. She's so fucking gorgeous and close right now, I can hardly stand it.
God, I want to kiss her. I really do. But I'm fucking scared as hell. I'm scared because I don't want to get a taste and have her realize how messed up I am and run away. I'm scared because I haven't had a kiss that's meant a damn thing to me in five years. Shit, maybe even more than that. I'm scared because I know if I kiss her now, I'll never be able to kiss anyone else the rest of my life no matter how meaningless it'd be, just because of how meaningful this one would be.
It's then that I realize I don't ever want to kiss anyone else but Harper. I want her to change me, break me, make me better. I want all of her. And I want her to eventually have all of me. It's going to take a while for that to happen, I know. But it will have to start some time. And I want that time to be now.
I realize I've just been standing here looking at her and stroking her cheek for over a minute now. She hasn't moved at all, still breathing heavy and waiting on me to make the first move. Just like I told her I would when I was ready, because that's the way I work. She probably thinks I'm going to back out just like I did on the Ferris wheel, but I'm not. Not this time.
Her hands clutch tighter on my coat as I bend down and lean in. My lips are so close to hers that I'm basically just breathing her in. My heart is beating so loud it's the only thing I can hear. I feel my hands start to shake on her cheek. I wait for her to come the last few centimeters, but she doesn't. She just stands there waiting, like I knew she would.
I think my heart is about to pound right out of my chest and my mouth has gone bone dry. I'm so fucking scared, but I'm ready. I lean the rest of the way in and press my lips against hers. I kiss her as softly as I can. Like I'm afraid she's going to break apart in my hands. Everything else fades out as I savor the feel of her mouth against mine. The heat of her face against mine. The taste of her chapstick on my lips. It's like her mouth is pulling every fear, every torment, every moment of weakness I've ever had out of me. Taking them from me, making me feel freer than I've ever felt in my entire life.
I pull away from her lips slowly and look into her face. I want give her more than a kiss that lasts all of 10 seconds, but I can't give anything more to her yet. I'm not ready. But the look in her eyes and the smile on her face tell me that's okay. They tell me that it was more than okay. That it probably just changed her for the rest of her life like I'm more than sure it did for me.
I may not be ready for more yet, but that's okay. She gives me the control I need, but channels it in ways that make us both happy. She's slowly helping me realize that sometimes the unplanned things are the best things. That sometimes the uncontrolled things…are the things worth living for.
Chapter 7
Harper's pissed at me. Not that she would ever say it to my face, though; she's too polite for that. So instead, she's been ignoring me for the past seven hours. I fail to see how that's any less rude, but what the fuck do I know. All because she asked me to go to some fancy-schmancy benefit dinner at her parents' estate. She made sure to differentiate estate and house to me like I'm fucking five years old. Of course I know the difference. And that's part of why I said no. I'm not going somewhere large enough to get lost with more people than I could possibly count. No. No way. I'd feel extremely out of my comfort zone and that's something I avoid at all costs. I may not be able to be in charge of everything, but where I go is definitely one of them. Not even Harper Rose and her sad puppy dog eyes will change that.
The other part of why I said no is because it's at her parents' estate. I don't meet parents. I don't like not feeling good enough for their daughters. I don't like the judgmental stares I'm sure to get. Especially from parents wealthy enough to own an estate instead of a home.
So even though Harper gets why I said no, she's still not talking to me. So I'm still sitting here getting more pissed by the minute as I drink my second beer and watch ESPN. I cannot fucking believe I'm letting her get to my emotions like this. I really fucking can't. But, I also can't believe I told her 'no' even though I really just want to make her happy. I'm so conflicted that I don't even know what the fuck to do. I have to make it up to her. That much I do know.
As I'm trying to think of ways to fix my royal fuck up, my phone starts blaring out this God awful ringtone that I'm sure only Harper would choose. I pick up my phone and sure enough, it's Harper. I take a deep breath to calm myself the fuck down and answer on the third ring.
"Romaaaaa!" Before I can even say hello, she's yelling my name. Something's not right. Harper doesn't seem like the type to skip pleasantries, no matter how much she likes you.
"Harper, are okay? You sound…different." I try to search for a word that won't offend her, but that's the best I can come up with. Typical Raine genius at work, right there.
"No, you're different, Roma. You're so…secretive. Deceptively complex." By the slurring of her words, I can tell she's drunk. Not the 'tipsy-Harper' I took home last month, but 'drunk as a fucking skunk' Harper.
"Harper, have you been drinking?" I ask even though I know the answer.
"Why does that matter? I'm a grown adult. I don't need your permission to drink if I wish to do so." Wow. Drunk Harper has quite the bitchy side. Not a side I particularly like. Even though it does kinda turn me on.
"No. I guess you don't. But, I do want to know where you
're at." The noises in the background definitely aren't coming from a benefit dinner. Dammit. I knew I should've gone with her.
"A bar." No shit, Harper. No shit. “My parents were mean. I had to leave.”
"Which bar?" I'm started to get really pissed now. She could be alone in a bad part of town. Drunk and alone in a bad part of town.
"Cataloni's. Did you know—"
"You’re on that side of the Bronx? Alone? You know what kind of shit goes on down there. You work in sexual assault, for fuck’s sake.'' All semblance of civility I have flies right out the fucking window. Genuis, my ass. No woman with half a brain would be there at this time of night alone.
"Roma, I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself." The last word kind of lingers in her mouth like she's getting drunker by the second. “I’m going to go play pool.”
I should've gone with her. Nothing better happen to her before I can find her. "Don't go anywhere. I mean it, Harper. I'll be there as soon as I can."
…
Thanks to my police lights and sirens, I show up less than fifteen minutes later at this deserted ass bar in the sketchiest part of the Bronx. How she even managed to find this piece of shit place, I'll never know. I walk/half run inside just to see two hairy ass men playing pool and three sweaty old men at the bar. No Harper in sight. I walk back to the bathrooms and check both the Men and Women's rooms. No sign of her. I'll be damned if she took a cab back home. I start walking back to my car as I call her. As soon as I step outside, I hear her loud as fuck classical ringtone. Coming from the alley beside the bar. My heart starts pounding and I break out in a sweat.
This can't be happening.
I run out into the pitch-black alleyway and reach for my gun before I remember I left it back at home since I’m off duty. Fuck. My eyes finally adjust and I see where the noise is coming from. A huge as hell motherfucker has Harper pinned to the wall with his hand on her mouth. The other is planted at the wall by her head. He's leaned in close, whispering some shit to her. Intimidating her. And it's fucking working. She's trembling, trying to yell out, but his hand muffles her voice.