“Well …” He balks in disgust, looking me up and down before meeting my eyes and continuing with such vitriol it just about slices me in half, “Looks like you got what you wanted after all.”

And, with one last feeling look between Nash and I, he turns to leave, and my heart thunders in my chest as I stand there shocked and frozen, watching him stalk back toward to his truck parked at the curb and out of my life without so much as a second glance over his shoulder.

Chapter 30

Somehow, I manage to come to my senses before Harley reaches his Ford. And, snapping out of the shock-induced daze, I curse under my breath before running down the porch steps and chasing after him.

“Harley!”

He stops and turns. I can tell he’s trying to act unaffected, trying his best at a bored, uninterested glance. But the hard crease furrowed into his brow is giving him away. I know he’s pissed. And I know he cares, I can see it the way his jaw ticks. “What?” he hisses between gritted teeth, folding his arms across his chest.

I consider my words, glancing back toward the house. But when I find Nash standing in the open doorway, I shake my head at the situation. Of course it looks bad. I can’t blame Harley for thinking what he’s thinking. “Nothing happened, I swear. It’s not what it looks like!”

He quirks a disbelieving brow at me but says nothing, and I smooth my hair back from my flustered face, stammering for the words I need. “He was here waiting for me when I got home.” I shrug. “He was drunk, and confused. I just talked to him.” I shake my head again, imploring his eyes with my own in the hope of seeing some semblance of understanding. But his eyes are empty. “We just talked. That’s it.”

“Talked?” He laughs a derisive laugh void of any humor. “Up in your bedroom? Half-naked?”

I shake my head vehemently. “No! I accidentally spilled liquor all over him.” I purposely leave out the bit about Nash telling me he wants me back. “He was just cleaning up in the bathroom before ordering an Uber. And I had one of his old T-shirts up in my room.” To be fair, it actually sounds worse coming out of my mouth, and I just wish I could shut the hell up.

Harley continues watching me for a long moment without saying a word. “That’s all. I swear.” I stare into his eyes, not once breaking the penetrating hold he has on me. For some reason, this feels like the make-or-break moment that I could potentially lose him forever, and I feel sick to my stomach.

“Harley, it isn’t what it looks like, man!” At the sound of Nash’s voice ringing through the silence of the night, I close my eyes in a combination of frustration and fear, wishing he’d just shut the hell up. But, of course not. He proceeds to make his way across the yard to join us, and I finally open my eyes to see him standing next to me in that damn T-shirt I once slept in for three weeks straight without washing it because it smelled like him.