Chapters (39)
- Playlist
- 1. August
- 2. Harper
- 3. August
- 4. Harper
- 5. Harper
- 6. August
- 7. Harper
- 8. August
- 9. Harper
- 10. August
- 11. Harper
- 12. August
- 13. Harper
- 14. Harper
- 15. August
- 16. Harper
- 17. Harper
- 18. Harper
- 19. Harper
- 20. August
- 21. Harper
- 22. August
- 23. August
- 24. Harper
- 25. Harper
- 26. Harper
- 27. August
- 28. Harper
- 29. August
- 30. Harper
- 31. Harper
- 32. Harper
- Epilogue
- Thank you
- Acknowledgments
- About Author
- Excerpt - The Roommate Deal
- Also By Roxanne
I opened my laptop to bury my head in work, then slammed it, having zero desire to deal with this shit tonight. I couldn’t think. The game ended twenty minutes ago and I ignored Harper's texts looking for me. Not that I believed Troy’s dumb theories, but there was no way I could go through with telling her tonight.
I was having doubts. I knew that when Troy started making some goddamn fucking sense, I’d lost it. I needed sleep, rethink everything.
No way she knows.
Everything I ever thought I knew about Harper Maxwell would be wrong if she had.
Going to the bar, I poured myself a scotch and turned-on sports news to see how the game ended and not the least bit surprised when I saw the score.
24. Harper
24
I had raced out of the stadium before the game was over. Before the rush of the crowd could slow me down. Where the hell was he and why was Troy back on the ice.
Questions you might be able to ask upfront if you were honest, yourself, Harper.
I silenced my stupid conscience and swiped at a tear along my cheekbone.
Tonight was going to be it and now he’s not answering my texts.
August needed to know I only wanted him. Blindly and without knowing what the hell I was going to say, if he would even be there, what state I’d find him in, I drove to his apartment building.
“Harper,” he rasped painfully, finding me at his doorstep.
I was breathless and almost completely lost my train of thought when my eyes washed over him. “Hi. Can I come in?”
He pulled the door open for me and stepped aside. Whiskey or some other hard liquor reeked from his breath as I passed.
“What happened tonight?” I whispered.
He turned away from me. “We lost.”
Frustrated, I followed him to his living room. “You didn’t lose.”
He turned back to me. “I lose every time, Harper.”
“What?”
“To my brother. You’re probably next.” There was an edge in his tone, but it didn’t scare me. It didn’t stop me from dropping my bag racing to him and throwing my arms around him.
“Never,” I breathed against his neck.
He released a throaty groan and put a hand up against my chest pushing me back instead of embracing me. His eyes narrowed. “How can you know that?”
“Because it’s you I want.” My stomach boiled and I felt his pain. I felt my pain because I was losing him. I was losing him to whatever it was he let his brother convince him of.
He pushed past me, lifting my things and walking to the door, pulling it open. “I can’t do this tonight.”