Harper sprang to a ninety-degree angle, scanning her surroundings and yelped when she found me leaning an elbow against my kitchen counter, watching her.

“Good heavens,” she gasped, her hand flying to her chest. “So creepy.”

I blinked as no better response came to mind.

She shoved aside the throw blanket and pushed herself up. “Sorry…you’re probably wondering why I’m here.”

I breathed an internal sigh of relief that I wasn’t crazy. That I hadn’t hit my head recently, blacking out the part where I’d invited Harper into my apartment. Whatever the hell she was doing here, I needed to snap out of it and focus because Harper began rambling a mile a minute.

“I locked myself out of my car when I walked you to your building last night and the doorman couldn’t help me and my clothes were soaked and well…you did offer a clean shirt, so…”

I held up my hand. “Stop.” She blinked and her eyes went wide. “What are you talking about? What happened last night?”

“Oh—oh um.” She licked her lips in hesitation. “You don’t remember, then that makes this super awkward.”

My eyes trailed to the ceiling, as though I could see through to the floor above me. I had the feeling Troy had something to do with this.

“Just tell me what you’re doing here, Harper,” I barked. It wasn’t meant to come out so harshly, it was more gravitated toward the brother I needed to go see asap.

“Stop yelling at me like I’m trespassing. You’re the one who stormed into my job yesterday demanding to see who wrote that article.”

My jaw locked and I looked down, preparing myself. “What else did I do?”

“You were drunk and almost got yourself arrested. I tried to get you to leave but ended up hauling you back here.”

“Here?”

“Well no. I asked your doorman to take you up. But I locked my keys in my car and couldn’t get anyone to come out to help after hours.”

I scanned her in my clothes again. Hating how much I liked it. I shut my eyes so I could try and focus. Because I was picturing her undressing from the wet clothes that were currently laid over the bar chairs, still damp.

“It poured last night, didn’t it?” my voice was hoarse.

“I was cold.”

I turned, marching to my thermostat, raising it a few levels. When I looked back, Harper’s eyes were on my shirtless torso and she swallowed, blinking away.

“That’s okay, I think my clothes are dry, I’ll just—” she reached for them, but I tore them off the chair before she could get to it.

“How drunk was I?”

She took a minute, her eyes finally leveling mine. “I think you need a mental break, Troy.”