Page 51 of Doctor Hot Mess

“Air?” I repeat, raising an eyebrow. “Nice try. And, Lila's harmless. You could totally take her—she still has a cracked rib.”

She sighs, her fingers tightening around the mug. “I wasn’t running, Jonah. Not really. I just...needed to think.” Not in the mood for joking, I see. Got it.

“Think about what?” I ask, my voice softer now. I don’t want her to shut down, but I also need to know what’s going on in her head.

Her eyes meet mine, and for a second, she looks like she’s weighing her words carefully. “About what this is,” she says finally, gesturing vaguely between us. “What we’re doing. What it means.”

I blink, her honesty hitting me square in the chest. Harper’s never been one to sugarcoat things, but hearing her lay it out like this feels different—like she’s letting me in, trusting me not to screw it up. And damn, that’s a little terrifying.

“I mean, last night, neither of us seemed too unclear about what this," I gesture between her and me, “means”. I force a grin to keep it light. But the second the words leave my mouth, a pang of regret follows. Too casual? Too much like last time? Too focused on the physical and not getting deeper?

I glance at her, waiting for the fallout, half-expecting her to roll her eyes or shut me down completely. Instead, her lips twitch like she’s deciding whether to laugh or strangle me. Maybe both.

“Look, Harper. I don’t know what it means,” I admit, running a hand through my hair. “But I know I don’t regret it. And I know I want more of it.”

“That’s not exactly an answer,” she says, her lips quirking in a half-smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes.

“I’m not great at this,” I say, leaning forward, resting my arms on the table. “Talking about feelings, defining...things. But I know I want this. I want you.”

“For what? Two months?” she asks, her voice quieter now. “And then what, Jonah? I leave. What happens then?”

I take a deep breath, considering her words. She’s right—she’s always been practical and grounded. I can’t blame her for thinking ahead. But I’ve never been that guy. I’ve always lived in the moment, never planning too far ahead because planning feels like a trap.

“I don’t know,” I say honestly. “I’m not trying to make promises I can’t keep. But I know that for the next eight weeks, or nine, or however long we’ve got, I want to be with you. And if, at the end of that, you’re done with me...then you’re done with me. But if you’re not—” I stop, unsure of how to finish that sentence.

Harper studies me for a moment, her gaze searching. “That’s...not exactly reassuring,” she says, her voice light but tinged with something I can’t quite name.

“I’m not trying to be reassuring,” I say, a small smile tugging at my lips. “I’m just trying to be honest.”

She lets out a soft laugh, shaking her head. “I appreciate it. I'm not sure what I'm even saying.”

“Who does?” I protest, holding my hands up in mock surrender. “That is the story of my life.”

Her laugh softens into a smile, and the tension between us melts a little. “Okay,” she says, swirling her coffee absentmindedly. “So, if we’re doing this...”

I raise an eyebrow, curious. “Doing what?”

She rolls her eyes, but there’s no heat behind it. “This... thing. Whatever it is. I guess I just want it to feel more like... I don’t know, like we’re not winging it entirely?”

I smirk. “Harper, winging it is my specialty.”

She snorts softly, shaking her head. “Yeah, I’ve noticed. But seriously, Jonah, I realized something this week—between Lila and...everything else. There’s so much about you I don’t know. And it’s not like I need to know every deep, dark secret,” she adds quickly, her tone light but sincere. “I just want to know more about you. The real stuff.”

Her words hang in the air for a beat, and I lean back, studying her. “What brought this on? Is my karaoke that bad?”

“It’s not about that,” she says, smiling faintly. “Okay, maybe a little. But mostly, I guess... I don’t want this to just feel like a... detour."

"I hear you," I say, as I try to understand where she is going here. I tend to joke when things feel heavy, so I'm resisting that urge right now because it feels like she is going there.

“It’s not that deep,” her smile tilts into something teasing. “I guess I’m just realizing how little I know about you, which is weird considering how much time we’ve spent together over the years.”

I lean back, raising an eyebrow. “Gotta keep some mystery alive. Keeps me interesting.”

She rolls her eyes, but her grin doesn’t waver. “Oh, please. You thrive on attention, not mystery.”

I chuckle, holding up my hands in mock surrender. “Fair point. But hey, if you’re saying we need to shake things up, I’m game. Just say the word.”

She pauses, swirling her coffee. “Seriously, though. I know your M.O., Jonah Bellinger. If this is going to be different—if we’re going there—maybe we scratch a little below the surface.”

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