I grinned over at him. “Pink is definitely my color, but I don’t think I could pull off Liesl’s dress, and Rolf wasn’t nearly as hot as you are, and he ended up being a Nazi, so I’m not sure that’s a very good comparison.”
For a moment, the guilt and worry faded from his eyes, leaving them a bright, twinkling brown. I thought it was the first time I’d seen them so clearly, maybe they’d always been weighted down in shadow before. “I wouldn’t have pictured you a musical fan.”
“I’m not, but my sister was obsessed with Liesl growing up. The Sound of Music played for a solid three years in our house.” Suddenly, I realized I was making circles with my thumb on the back of his hand. I began to stop, but then didn’t want to. We’d already crossed plenty of lines the way it was. “But you? Is that something they show in NFL locker rooms?”
Harrison laughed again, but it broke partway through as the shadows returned. “No. But I used to like that movie. A long time ago. Before….” He didn’t finish, and I didn’t press.
After some more time, though I don’t know who moved first, our hands separated.
“What do we do now? Do we need to talk about it? Do we… tell…?”
I couldn’t read what Harrison felt we should do in his tone, although maybe he didn’t know. I sure didn’t. Though I knew I wanted to do it again. That probably wasn’t helpful to say. “I don’t know. Do we have to figure that out right now?”
He seemed to consider, then shook his head. “I guess not.” He stood, and at the motion something else fell off the table and crashed to the floor. He attempted a smile. “Sorry.”
“You better be. You really trashed this place.” I gave him a wink and earned a halfhearted smile.
“I should go.”
That was the last thing I wanted. Fuck. “Yeah.”
Harrison walked over to a shirt on the ground and picked it up. He hissed in pain at the movement. “I think this is yours.”
“Thanks.” I moved to him, took it, and slid it over my head, the wet material feeling icy against my skin. Again, I was tempted to tell him I didn’t want him to be sorry for this. That I didn’t know if it was right or wrong, but that I wanted to do it again. Right that very minute. Later on that evening, and again the next day. “Why don’t you hang here for a minute? I’ll get my truck. Your knee has been through enough, and after the rain, a lot of the walk is going to be a mud trap.”
“No, you don’t need to do that. That’s too much bother.”
I cocked an eyebrow. “Seriously?”
Another smile. This one sweet and self-conscious. “Okay. Thanks.”
“Good. I’ll be right back.”
Harrison smiled again and then looked around the glasshouse through narrowed eyes. “Any idea where my shirt went?”
Nine
Harrison
Undoubtedly, I drove the distance between Adrian’s farm and Jasper’s bookshop. But it didn’t feel like it, nor did I have any memory of doing so.
Adrian had driven me from the little glasshouse to the entrance of the farm. Though it had felt like I’d walked forever to find Adrian due to my bad knee, in the work truck, it was a matter of minutes. But long enough that I wondered if I should take his hand as he drove. Ask him if he wanted to do it again. And short enough that I didn’t have the chance to get my nerve up for either. A couple of the guys who worked for him were loading another truck, so our goodbye was formal and reserved. But in that whispered exchange there was a giddy excitement. If I wasn’t reading into things, also the promise of more. Unless I was imagining the heat in Adrian’s eyes, I would know what he felt like inside me sooner rather than later.
From that point on, it seemed like I was flying. Probably a miracle I made it back to Lavender Shores safely, as I couldn’t picture one second of that drive. All thoughts were of Adrian. The sight of his glistening body, every inch muscled, and every inch clearly chiseled from manual labor. The way his rain-soaked hair plastered against his chest and abs, the way it felt against my back. The desire in his eyes as he glanced up with my cock in his mouth.
When I wasn’t reliving what we’d just done, I was dreaming about the next time. The few moments of him truly inside me giving me a taste for what I really wanted—Adrian, buried deep, stretching me out as those muscle-bound arms of his locked around my chest and secured me to him. Of the world falling away as he built a pounding rhythm. Him, shouting my name in ecstasy as he released inside me.
Such thoughts continued to swirl as I got out of my car and headed to Lavender Pages. I was so caught up, I didn’t think about going in through the entrance to the apartment or worrying about being caught by a reporter. The wig, glasses, and cap stayed in the passenger seat.
I hadn’t needed to worry, there was no reporter, no tabloid vulture with a camera, at least not that I noticed. Even so, the slap of reality arrived the moment I stepped into the bookshop. Jasper looked over from where he was typing on the computer and his eyes widened. “Oh my God, Harrison! What happened?” He rushed around the counter. “You’re drenched. What in the world?”
I hadn’t noticed, or remembered, that I was wet. Hadn’t even considered it as I’d sat in the leather seat of my car. But now that I had been made aware, I realized I was shivering.
Jasper was in front of me before I could process any more than that. “Did you have an accident? Are you okay?”
In truth, I did kind of feel like I had been in an accident. A whole pile-up of them that started days ago and just kept happening. But man, the climax of that final collision? Fuck.
Jasper arched back slightly, studying me. “You’re smiling.”
Was I? I attempted a smile to convince Jasper that nothing was wrong, then realized he’d just informed me I already was smiling. Good enough. “Isn’t it good to smile? Why does that make you look worried?”
That only made his brows crease. “I don’t remember the last time I’ve seen you smile like that. Like it wasn’t for a camera. It most definitely hasn’t happened in the past five days.” He sucked in a breath, his eyes widening, hope clear in his face. “Did you finally hear back from Will?”
Will.
It was like Jasper punched me.
Will… I hadn’t thought. Hadn’t remembered. Just hearing Jasper saying Will’s name felt confusing. Why in the world would he be talking about Will? That had been lifetimes ago.
“Oh, I guess not.” Jasper’s expression fell once more. “Sorry I asked. Now you’re back to looking like you have been.”
Will.
Lifetimes ago or not, my fuzzy little bubble of euphoria burst, and guilt settled in. And there was Jasper, still studying me in concern, waiting for me to explain what the hell I was doing walking around grinning like an idiot while drenched like I’d taken a dip in the Pacific with all my clothes on.
“I’m fine, Jasper.” That time I did have to force a smile, and had to think quickly, quicker than my recently hazed-out brain was capable. I didn’t lie to Jasper. Ever. But he’d just asked about Will. I couldn’t very well tell him about Adrian.
Adrian. Jasper’s friend more than mine. The guy I’d kept trying to push him toward time and time again over the past several months.
No, I couldn’t tell him about Adrian.
“I was getting some air. I know I told you I was going on a drive, but I… went for a walk on the beach. Got caught in the rain.” As soon as the words left my mouth I wished I could take them back. Both because I truly didn’t lie to Jasper, and because that was a stupid lie at best. I’d spoken to Moses, so if he mentioned it to Jasper…. Not that he would. There was no reason he’d mention it to Jasper. Although, he was Connor and Micah’s nephew, so maybe he’d tell them, and one of them would mention it to Jasper…. Or it could just be Adrian, completely take out the middleman. Adrian was one of Jasper’s best friends. Adrian could call Jasper any second to talk about it, and then he’d know I lied.
Jasper squeezed my arm, drawing my attention back to him. �
��Harrison, you look like you might be in the middle of a stroke. Should we be getting you to a doctor?”
“No.” My God, Harrison, pull it together. “I really am fine. Just cold.” I gestured upstairs. “I’m going to go take a bath, warm up. You’ll be okay down here?” Stupid question.
“Yeah, of course.” Though Jasper released my arm, he still looked concerned. “Getting warm is a good idea. I’ll be right here, call me or pound on the floor or something if you need me.”
“I’m good.” I hoped that smile was more convincing. “I really am. I think I turned a page today, actually. I really do.”
The hopeful glint came back into Jasper’s eyes. “Wow. That must’ve been some walk on the beach.”
Beach?
Oh, right. “Yeah. It… was. It really was.”
I hadn’t intended on actually taking a bath, but I didn’t want to add another lie to those I’d already told Jasper, and I really was chilled to the bone. For a few minutes, the hot bath was a little bit of heaven, but as it killed the chill, it also seemed intent on murdering the pleasant fog that had been encompassing my brain.
Will.
My God. Will.
Not lifetimes ago. Not even a week ago.
And when did I start thinking of Will alongside the term ago, as in the past, as in used to be. True, I still hadn’t heard from him, which didn’t say good things about the state of our engagement, but still… there were no definites.
The bath seemed to be burning away more than just the fog from my time with Adrian in the glasshouse. It was an acid eating through the blur since the wedding.
I’d called and called and called, and sent text after text after text, apologizing to Will, asking him to talk to me. Let me know where we were. What he needed. What he wanted. I’d been in a state of confusion, not knowing what to do. Pacing around Jasper’s apartment endlessly, watching TV, and trying to read but not seeing or understanding any of it.
Just a continual panicked loop of what the hell did I do, what the hell did I do, what the hell did I do…. Just on, and on, and on. Knowing that I’d fucked everything up. Hurt Will. Made a fool of myself in front of the world. In front of my father if he’d been scowling at the TV, as his illusions of his perfect son became shattered more and more—if there’d been any left to shatter.
In between all the lamenting of the shambles I’d created, I’d tried to figure out a way to fix it. To convince Will I had been out of my mind. That part shouldn’t be hard. Anyone with eyes could see that. And if they couldn’t, they could just watch the stupid clip of me running and falling a few times on YouTube and be convinced. To promise that I wouldn’t question Will when he came home. Hope that, if nothing else, he’d be happy that the network was more desperate for us than ever. That if he really wanted to do a series of our married life, of children, of whatever, I’d do it.
With each of those thoughts and plans my pacing had increased, the amount of sleeping pills required to shut out the world, even for a small matter of hours, began to pile up, and breathing was nearly more work than I could manage.
Until that kiss from Adrian in the field. Until that moment, I hadn’t been sure where my next breath would come from.
I’d found it.
The bathwater grew tepid, and I realized I was shivering. I filled up again, to nearly scalding. And as a result, the fog continued to burn. I didn’t know if wildfires truly could devour fog, but that was what was happening. And with every second, the inferno increased, as did its appetite. Zooming through the five days since the wedding and raging into the past many months.
I hadn’t even realized I’d been living in a fog all that time. Through the filming, the time in between when the camera crews left, and the airing of the show began, and the endless preparations for the wedding.
There’d been a fog through all of it. And as I sank back into the water, leaving nothing but my nose and forehead above the surface, I realized there’d been no air either. At some point, I really had stopped breathing. I’d been alone, even with Will by my side. We were both so stressed, so fixated on making sure we were perfect for the filming on our wedding day. Both our bodies, and how we presented ourselves. Every week brought different interviews after each individual episode aired. Between his job and my recovery, there was nothing but work and then being in love in front of the cameras. At home, we’d simply needed to survive.
And Will? Suddenly, he didn’t feel like lifetimes ago. Everything had been so quick—the spark upon our meeting, the passion, the relief of finding someone to love after that stupid sex tape came out, after ruining my career with an injury. Will had shown me there was still life to live, still adventures to have. The whirlwind romance leading to the proposal so quickly after our meeting, and then the show.
Maybe Will hadn’t been able to breathe either.
At the thought, I sat straight up, causing water to splash over the side of the tub. I snatched up the towel, did a quick wipe of my hands and snagged my cell from the sink, then settled back into the bath.
For the billionth time, I tapped Will’s name. For the billionth time, it rang and rang. And for the billionth time, Will’s voice came on telling me to leave a message. It was like the first time I truly heard his voice since the wedding. I stopped trying to figure out what message to leave this time and just listened. The greeting was old, recorded before we’d met. Nothing unusual, just Will’s bright, yet professional, tone. And I remembered that man. So stunningly handsome and elegant. So confident and captivating. Strong. A man who sees what he wants and takes it.
When there was a long beep in my ear, I realized I’d recorded a message of silence, I hadn’t said a word. I hung up and stared at Will’s contact picture. It was the two of us, we’d just gotten engaged. The real engagement, the one not staged later for the film crew.
That Will and that Harrison…. So happy. So beautiful. Nearly dazzling.
I’d been wrong moments before, it turned out. That really had been lifetimes ago. Even if it was less than a year. That Will was a memory, as was that Harrison. A wave of longing washed over me. For both of those men. For that Will who I loved, and for that Harrison who’d been happy, for a time.
I also realized, somewhat guiltily, that the one emotion I hadn’t felt as I’d been in a hurricane of emotions over the past five days was what I was feeling now. I hadn’t longed for Will, hadn’t even missed him. There’d been panic, guilt, sadness… everything else, but not that. I missed him in that moment. I missed the Will I’d met, but I still didn’t miss the Will I had been engaged to.
Maybe I wouldn’t have realized that without the glasshouse, without the heat of Adrian’s eyes and the fire in his touch.
I’d been leaving message after message asking Will what we should do. What he wanted me to do.
I didn’t have that question any longer. I missed the Will in that picture. The life I thought we were about to have.
That wasn’t true anymore. None of it.
Before I could second-guess, I tapped his name again, and once more, listened as the call rang through, and Will’s greeting spoke brightly in my ear. Then it was time. “Hey. I know I’ve been driving you crazy with messages, and I still don’t blame you for not returning them. You need time. But when you get a chance, we should talk. I think I’ve come to some decisions. Maybe you have too?” I lost my words then, not sure how to close. Every other message had ended with I love you. Or a string of repeated I love yous. I wasn’t sure if there was a right way to end this time. “Call me when you can. Bye.”
I hit End once more and stared at Will’s picture again. Caressed his face with my gaze and said my goodbyes to the old Will as well.
I waited for a crushing pain as I stared at his face. For unbelievable loss. For the sensation of panic to blossom, telling me I needed to call him back and fix it before he listened to that voicemail and misunderstood, or actually understood.
It didn’t come. Instead, there was just a calm reli
ef. Of being able to take another deep breath, and whispered permission to stop drowning.
Angela’s face lit up the screen as the phone rang, and with a yelp and a splash I jerked, dropped the phone, and fumbled it for a few heart-stopping seconds before miraculously managing to get a grip before it went for a swim.
I hit Accept and lifted the phone to my ear. “Hey, Angela.”
She hesitated on the other end. “Hi, yourself. I haven’t heard you laughing like that in a while.”
I was laughing? Then I realized that I kind of was. “Oh, I was staring at my phone…. Er, I’m taking a bath at the moment. Anyway, I was looking at it when you called, and it startled me so much I nearly dropped it in the water. I made a catch that was worthy of my Titans days.”
She chuckled. “Oh, good. Sorry that I startled you, but I’m glad it didn’t ruin your phone. I don’t want to bother you, but I wanted to check in. See if you had any thoughts about the studio’s offer.” She shifted from a friendly tone to the mothering one she often used with me. I really did think she saw me as one of her kids sometimes. So caring and protective. “I don’t want to rush you, really. Your heart comes first, before anything else. And on the business side of things, keeping them waiting isn’t necessarily a bad strategy. They’ve already upped what they’re willing to pay, and their first offer was rather shockingly extravagant to begin with. But we do want to find that sweet spot of not making them wait too long.”
I hadn’t even been considering their offer. I needed to hear from Will first. Figure out where the two of us were. “They’re still saying they don’t care what kind of show? That it could just be something about me, or the next part of my life? It doesn’t have to be about Will and my relationship?”
“I take it you spoke to Will finally? Things didn’t go well?” She softened her tone yet again. “I’m so sorry, sweetie. But yes, they want you, however they can get you.”
“I haven’t spoken to Will, actually. But things are changing.” My heartbeat sped up at the thought of the possibilities that might be right around the corner. “I’m not going to figure out about a show right now, Angela. I’m sorry. I think life is about to take a really… wonderful turn.”
The Glasshouse (Lavender Shores Book 6) Page 9