Page 32 of My Favorite Secret
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
HARPER
I fucked up with Tyler. It’s all I can think about as I change out of my leotard at the end of ballet practice. I didn’t dance well today, feeling ill over how things ended between us, and how he hasn’t returned any of my calls or messages.
For years, I’ve been afraid of losing him to Felix, and I know that’s what’s happening now. I let Felix get in my head. I acted crazy. I pushed Tyler away, the most important person in my life, and it’s all my fault.
I opened his letter as soon as he left. I’ve read it multiple times and it always brings tears to my eyes. I pull it out of my bag and read the most beautiful section again before leaving the changing room.
I love you, Harper. I think about you every minute of every day. I always have. You’re everything to me. Please, don’t make me wait till we’re twenty-five before I can call you mine. If you let me, I promise I’ll spend every day for the rest of my life loving you. I’ll support you through every dream you have. Just please, let me love you.
He wrote me a love letter. I don’t know any guy my age who would do that. And I ruined everything.
Once I’m dressed, I check my phone, hoping Tyler has returned one of my several missed calls. Or at the very least texted me.
My phone has a flat battery. Just great.
I toss it into my bag and head out of the studio, needing to walk back to the beach house because my parents are busy with work and can’t pick me up. Aside from how my feet are killing me from dance, walking home won’t be that bad. I won’t have to endure an awkward car ride with Mom where she tries to act like a girlfriend instead of acknowledging the rift between us.
As soon as I exit the building, a black Jeep pulls up in front of me with windows tinted so dark I can’t see inside.
For fuck’s sake.
The driver’s side window rolls down when I attempt to walk around the vehicle. Most of Felix’s face is hidden beneath his black hoodie, but I see the way he looks me up and down. “Cute outfit.”
I’m wearing a short, white sundress with frilly sleeves and can’t tell if he’s mocking my sense of fashion.
“Get in, Fuck Toy. Your mom is busy and asked me to pick you up.”
That phrase again. Fuck toy. Except now he’s turning it into a name for me. I hate it, and yet a thrill sweeps through me at the thought of Felix calling me his to fuck.
“I’ll walk home.”
I’m not even five steps down the road when Felix calls out to me. “You’re limping. If your feet hurt, you’ll only make the pain worse by walking, which means your dancing will suffer in the long run.”
I glare at him, frustrated that he’s right. The walk home will be forty minutes of pain. The drive, ten.
I climb into the front passenger seat and shove my earphones in so I don’t have to speak with Felix. Ten minutes is manageable.
Felix speeds off, swerving onto the main road and cutting off oncoming traffic.
I fasten my seatbelt, my muscles rigid as I clench the seat in fright. Dickhead. I don’t know why I’m so shocked that he’s a reckless driver.
“Are you trying to get us killed? Slow down.”
“Only if you turn off your music and talk to me, baby.”
I toss my earphones back into my bag. “Happy? Slow down.”
A smirk pulls at his lips. To my surprise, he slows down to a reasonable rate, though I’m sure he’s still pushing the speed limit.
“Why did you agree to pick me up from the studio? Seems too good of you to be a genuine act.”
He frowns, eyes on the road and his forehead creasing. When he speaks, his signature smug tone is absent. “I got into an argument with your mother.”
“You two have an argument every time you speak.”
“This was different.”
