Page 86 of In the Net
Scarlett flattens her lips at me. “Nice distraction.” She sighs dramatically, turning back to the TV. “Fine, just keep your best friend out of the loop about what’s really going on between you two,” she says sarcastically.
A twinge of guilt turns in my chest. But how can I keep my friends in the loop about how I’m really feeling toward Sebastian, when I can’t even answer that question myself?
34
SEBASTIAN
I’m sitting on a couch outside the fitting area of a dress shop in Burlington.
Harper told me that she was planning on taking the bus down to shop for a dress for her cousin’s wedding, but I insisted on coming along and driving her, borrowing Felix’s car again to do so.
The thought of watching Harper try on nice dresses ignited excitement through me like a wildfire. No way I was missing out on that.
I made the obvious point thatof courseher wedding date should be with her when she goes dress shopping for the big day. Honestly, it was a pretty flimsy excuse, but she didn’t make any effort to argue.
I’ve seen Harper try on three dresses so far. Each time she’s walked out to show me, I’ve wanted to carry her behind the curtain and tear the dress right back off.
Keeping my hands off her since we hooked up two weeks ago has been the greatest exercise in self-control I’ve ever experienced, and the test has never been harder than right now.
Since we slept together, I know one thing for sure. If I let myself touch her as often as I want to, in all the ways I want to, I’ll quickly become addicted. Hopelessly, utterly addicted.
If that happens, and if I have to quit her cold turkey after the wedding when she decides there’s no reason for her to have anything to do with me anymore, the withdrawal might kill me.
Shit, I’m already at risk of that with how much time we’ve been spending together the last couple weeks.
We’ve dropped all pretense that we’re supposed to still dislike each other. Sure, we still verbally spar, but while Harper’s sarcastic quips and comebacks used to make me scowl, now they just make me grin. And more often than not, that smart mouth of hers makes my dick twitch.
Even when I hated her, there was something about Harper’s verbal sharpness that turned me on. Now that I’m not even trying to fight that feeling, it’s grown tenfold.
Maybe dying from withdrawal would be a fair price to pay in exchange for having a couple weeks of hearing what kind of smartass comments she’d make with her hair wrapped around my fist while she’s on her knees for me.
My cock thickens in my pants, even though I already fucked my hand this morning to very similar thoughts about my fake girlfriend.
But even without crossing that line again, these last couple weeks have been … amazing. Too amazing. Concerningly amazing.
Sending messages back and forth throughout the day. Stopping by her place to watch something with her. Reading a book at the same time and talking about it once we’ve finished the same chapter. FaceTiming her in my hotel bed during away games.
The way I look forward to seeing her all day long until I do. The warm feeling that rushes through my blood and the thrillthat drums in my chest when I’m walking around campus and happen to spot her at a distance.
Is it possible that I’m actually …
It’s probably a good thing that I’m not able to finish that thought. The curtain rustles, and Harper steps out in her next dress.
I lift my eyes to look at her—and my jaw drops.
My brain feels rearranged, like I’ve just been blasted with a shockwave. My tongue is a deadweight in my mouth. I’ve lost the capacity to blink.
Harper is a fucking vision of heaven standing in front of me in that dress.
The green, sleeveless dress hugs her waist and hips, emphasizing her figure in a way that shaves off at least eighty IQ points as I’m looking at it. I couldn’t add two one-digit numbers together right now.
The green of the dress, her light skin tone, and the copper blaze of her hair combine to form a sight I’ll never forget for as long as I live.
I’m on autopilot as I stand up. It feels like Ihaveto stand up, as a show of respect for the vision that’s in front of me. You don’t keep sitting down when you’re looking at something like … like …this.
“This one. This is the dress. You look … unbelievable.”
Harper tilts her head, an amused spark in her eye. “Sebastian?” she asks. “Do you like it?”
