Page 76 of His to Teach
“Thanks.”
I prepare our coffee in silence, feeling Emma’s eyes on the back of my head the entire time. When I’m finished, I turn to her. “Everything okay?”
Her eyes are narrowed on my face, studying me. “You’re being good to her?”
I don’t bother getting offended. I’m happy that Harper has someone watching out for her. “Of course.”
She doesn’t seem appeased. “You’re staying away from her on campus?”
My body feels suddenly cold, and I wish I would have taken the time to find my shirt. She takes my silence as an answer.
“Look, I know you’re some big shot author or whatever,” she says. “Your reputation can probably withstand a little gossip. But Harper’s education is really important to her?—”
“I know that,” I snap. Fuck, that drive to succeed in school is one of the things I love about her.
Emma isn’t at all cowed by my tone or my glare. “Then you better fucking protect her.”
She holds my glare for a long moment, not backing down. Finally, I sigh, my shoulders slumping. “I will.”I’ll do better, I tell myself. I have to do better.
Just then Harper appears in the doorway to the kitchen, looking adorable in sleep shorts and my undershirt, hair a crazy riot of waves around her shoulders. She meets my eyes, a smile playing around her lips. “Please tell me she’s not lecturing you.”
“I’m looking out for you,” Emma shoots back.
“You could look out for me by making me some eggs,” Harper suggests sweetly, batting her eyelashes at her roommate.
“Why doesn’t Mister Wonderful make you some eggs?” Emma suggests, but there’s humor in her voice.
“He’s too busy looking fine as all hell over there without his shirt on,” Harper says in a loud stage whisper.
She’s happy,I think as she and Emma both laugh. The complete opposite to how she was yesterday—happy and at peace.
And I’m the one who did that for her. Being with me last night helped to bring her to this place. Maybe this relationship might be good for her after all.
I thought it would be awkward, spending time with Emma. That being around her college-age roommate might remind me that Harper is a hell of a lot younger than I am. But it doesn’t feel like that this morning. All I can see as I look between the two women is a loyal friend who cares about my girl as much as I do.
If my being here makes Harper smile like that, I’ll come over every damn day. Hell, I’ll make them both eggs every morning to see Harper look so happy.
This is going to work,I think, feeling a rush of hope. If we can just get through the rest of the academic year, it will all be okay. Maybe it will be better than okay.
Of course, the universe has to choose that moment to shit all over my hope.
“Harpy,” a voice calls from the living room, the sound of the front door closing clear in the sudden, stunned silence of the kitchen. The three of us freeze, no one able to react.
And then it’s too late to attempt an escape because Mason is striding into the room, a paper bag and a coffee carrier in his hands. “I thought you might need some cheering up?—”
He freezes, catching sight of me, standing there motionless in his little sister’s kitchen. I can’t think of a single excuse, a single viable reason for me to be in their apartment first thing on a Thursday morning. Jesus, I’m not even wearing a shirt. And Harper is clearly just out of bed.
“What the hell?” he asks, his voice more confused than angry. Somehow that makes it feel even worse—it’s like he literally can’t seem to guess why I’m here. “Chase?”
His eyes flick over to his little sister and the bewilderment on his face quickly fades, replaced by suspicion. “What the hell is going on?”
I step forward. “Mason, man, let’s go outside and talk.”
His face snaps back toward me, eyes narrowing. He takes in my appearance—I’m sure my hair is as messed as Harper’s, and my feet are as bare as my chest. “You’re fucking kidding me,” he whispers.
“Mason, look?—”
He spins to Harper. “Tell me this isn’t what it looks like.”
