Page 1 of Waiting Forever
1
Nathan
“I HAVE TO get her from the airport,” I repeat to Harper.
She sits across from me at a two-person table in the small coffee shop while she rummages through her purse.
“What?” she asks again.
My jaw tightens. “If you’d quit digging in your bag for a second and look at me, you wouldn’t have to ask me to repeat myself.”
Her head snaps up and she scowls. “What is your problem? You’ve been a dick since you woke up this morning, and not the kind of dick I like.”
I glance around the mom-and-pop café to see whether anyone heard her. The customers are wealthy folks who retired to Winter Park, Florida for the weather and golf. They prefer the designer boutiques and locally owned restaurants Park Avenue offers to the chain eateries monopolizing Central Florida.
I used to come here with one of my closest friends, Sebastian, when we needed to talk without the prying or flirting eyes from theotherlocals, students of Ryland.
Thankfully, no one seems to be paying attention to me and Harper. Of course, they could just be acting polite. Unlike my girlfriend.
“If you’re going to talk your usual shit, keep it down,” I warn her.
Her perfectly shaped brows tighten. “See, there you go again…being adick.”She raises her voice. “And as for my usual shit-talk, you never seem to mind it when I’m licking your balls.”
Jesus.I jump up, toss two twenties on the table, and haul Harper out of her seat by her arm.
She squeals and grabs her purse before I usher her out of the café. The bell on the door jingles as we step onto the sidewalk. Cars line the narrow brick road and people stand at the corner streetlight, waiting their turn to cross.
I let go of Harper. My breath races faster than it should, but fuck, I’m angry. “Are you trying to piss me off?”
“You’re only allowed to grab me like that when we’re having sex. You know the rules.” She tosses her maple hair over her shoulder and digs around in her purse again. She takes out a tube of pink gloss and a mirror, then coats her plump lips, making sure she’s as pretty as a picture.
Seven months ago, when I first met Harper, I thought she was the sexiest chick at Ryland. She was bold, confident, and sassy as hell. Her crass mouth was a turn-on and her sexual drive a fantasy. Now, I see the insecure girl underneath the makeup, designer clothes, and money. The girl who has to be the center of attention, the prettiest in the room, and the girl all the guys want.
I would know. I used to be one of those guys—and I got her, to the disappointment of many others. Little did I know what I was getting myself into. To be fair, neither of us did. She was just as much of a player as I was. I don’t know why either of us thought we could make a relationship work. We’re too similar—or at least we were.
Once she’s finished making herself even more beautiful, she directs her attention to me. “This little cousin of yours isn’t going to cause trouble, is she?”
So shehadbeen listening. “Kensington is not a troublemaker.” From what I know about this situation, which isn’t much, she’s in trouble or getting out of some trouble.
“That’s her name?” Harper makes a face. “Kensington. Like Kensington Palace?” She snorts. “What is she, a British wannabe?”
“Wannabe? No. She’spartBritish. Her mother is from London and her parents met in Kensington. It’s special to them. Obviously.”
Harper’s brows raise at my defensive tone. “But she’s not really your cousin.”
“I explained that to you.”
“So why were you called in to babysit her?”
Guess she’d been listening to only one part of the conversation. I run my fingers through my hair and hold in a groan. “I’m tired of repeating myself to you today. I’m already running late to pick up Kensington. Her flight lands in thirty minutes. If there is traffic, it’ll take me that long to get there. Then I have to park, hike to her gate, and find her. She won’t know how to navigate the airport. No one does. It’s too big, and I don’t want her overwhelmed or intimidated.”
I still can’t believe she’s coming to live with me. I never thought the day would happen. Shit. I never thought I’d see her again after the way I left her on her seventeenth birthday. She never complained about it to her dad. If she had, he would have called my ass out and told me to apologize.
I still feel like a dick for how I acted, but it was necessary. It was also in the past, so it didn’t much matter—until now. Will she bring it up and question me about it, or will she pretend it never happened, the way I have for the last three years?
“This is what I’m talking about.” Harper slides on her designer sunglasses. They look like cat eyes or ears or some shit like that. “She’s already causing problems for us. The art festival is this weekend. I wanted to stroll around Park Avenue and take it in with you. The weather is perfect for it.”
I squint at the blue, cloudless sky. It is a nice fall day for Florida. Not too hot. A cool breeze. Maybe Kensington would like to check out the art festival. I could give her a little tour of Winter Park and all its beauty. She might want to rest instead, or she might not want to see me at all, which is next to impossible because I’ve been ordered by both our fathers to watch over her.
