Page 46 of Bearly Hanging On

I snorted.

“You got it, now…”

I waved them away before walking down the hall, only to find Harper standing in my old room, looking at the photos on the wall.

“Hey,” I said.

“Hey.” She turned and smiled at me. “You were a pretty cute kid.” Her finger touched a photo of me when I was seven, marking the scabs on my knees. “One that got into a lot of scrapes, it looks.”

“You’ve got no idea.” I stepped closer. “Tearing holes in my clothes, tripping over things.” I shrugged. “Then there was the week when I refused to wear clothes, because tigers don’t.” That had her laughing, and maybe that was even better than being smooth and cool. “I tried to get into a fight with the next door cat to show who was dominant.”

“Oh my god, I would’ve loved to have seen that,” she snorted. “So, was this the schtick you used in high school? Get girls up to your room and talk about your misdeeds.”

That had me taking a step closer.

“There were no other girls, Harper.”

“What, you’re telling me this guy?” She tapped a photo of me trying to look really cool when I was halfway through high school. “Couldn’t get a date?”

“I’m telling you that sometimes girls flirted or told their friend to tell another friend that they liked me,” I explained, “but every time I had to tell them the same thing.” We were close enough to touch now, so I could see the thin line of gold around each one of her pupils. “That I was waiting for the right girl.”

“So…” Harper was so close to seeing it. She shook her head, as if trying to dislodge the thought. “You’re telling me that if we were in the same high school?” She squinted at the photo, making out the year it was taken. “And you were a couple of grades ahead of me, you’d have seen me across a crowded school yard…”

As she described the scenario, I saw it. It would’ve made it a whole lot easier to get me to school if I knew I’d see Harper every day. I would’ve wound my way through the other students to get to her, not giving any of them a second glance. I’d have followed her to all her classes, carried her books like it was some American teen drama, then?—

“I would’ve done this.”

I was trying to move slower, but how the hell did I do that when my heart was beating so fast? My hands went to her jaw, cupping it gently as I tilted her head up so her eyes met mine. I stroked a thumb down her cheek, trying to memorise the shape, right before I darted forward. A little kiss, a tiny one, like we were timid teens, not people who’d spent half the night together. It was sweeter, though, because this time I paid attention to the way her breath sucked in before she shifted, pressing her mouth into mine. Taking over, claiming my mouth with hers. The kissdeepened, grew more and more heated, right before someone called my name.

“Torren!” Just like guilty teenagers, we jerked apart. “Come and have some dessert,” my mother called from down the hall.

“What do you think?” I asked. “You feel like dessert or want to get out of here?”

I prayed for the latter, something Harper seemed to sense if her grin was anything to go by.

“You want me to miss out on dessert? Delicious, amazing, handmade dessert?”

“Guess not.” I steered her towards the door. “Whatever my mate wants, she gets.”

Chapter 19

Harper

I was doing so well, right up until we tried to leave Tor’s family restaurant.

His family was gorgeous. Overwhelming, but totally sweet.

“Here, take this as well!” Anya had found yet another plastic container and filled it with food. This one contained these delicious little bites of fudge covered with poppy seeds.

“Muum…”

Tor was obviously embarrassed, but she just waved him away.

“I’m just making sure your mate has enough food for the week.”

“Something I will take care of, if you stop thrusting food at her face,” Tor growled, taking that container as well and adding it to the others he was holding. One slipped because they had become a stack of Jenga blocks in his arms.

I could see they were just about to start arguing, so I stepped in.

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