She takes my breath away most days, but just looking at her standing in front of me in a pair of jeans that fit her body perfectly and a white button-up shirt, tucked in at her waist on one side and the other just hanging loosely. Her feet are bare, with toenails painted a deep plum color that match her fingernails. Her black hair twisted into a messy bun with a few strands just freely hanging down the side of her face. The lightest dusting of makeup.

“Stunning,” is all I reply to her, cutting off her rant.

She stops mid-sentence, but it brings a smile to her face.

“Am I casual enough for your mum? I don’t want her feeling uncomfortable.” Her care for my mother just makes me fall that little bit more. I know I’m setting myself up for real hurt, but I can’t stop myself. It just means I need to work harder to make her fall just as hard back so she doesn’t walk away.

“Thank you.” Sitting forward on the couch and leaning out, I grab her hand and pull her toward me. Before she has time to protest, I pull her into my lap. “That’s kind of you to worry about her. It means a lot to me.” I kiss her softly on her lips.

“Ah-ah, you’ll smudge my lipstick,” Harper pretends to scold me.

“That’s okay, I’ll just kiss you on your other lips,” I say, smirking to myself.

“Forrest!” she shrieks and tries to squirm out of my lap.

“What?” I hold her tight around her waist and have no intention of letting her go just yet.

Both of us are laughing, and it’s like having Harper here, like this, is breathing life into my apartment.

With her settling on my lap, I know we still have a little bit of time before Flynn and Felisha arrive, and then later, my parents.

“We need to have a chat.” My words make Harper stop and look at me with a serious expression.

“What’s wrong?” I feel for her because every time someone wants to discuss something with her, it automatically puts her on alert.

“Nothing serious.” I put my hand on her cheek to calm her. “But we need to talk about us and what, if anything, we are going to tell people, especially my family.” If I had the option, I would be shouting from the rooftop of this building that Harper Williams is mine. But it’s not as simple as that.

“We can’t tell them.” The panic on her face tells me everything. She still thinks this is just for now.

“Okay, but can I ask why?” I try to keep my frustration from breaking free.

“What will happen when it ends? They will think they need to take sides.” And there it is. The fear that this won’t last.