Page 55 of Say I Do

Harlow sighed. “You know, being a dick that’s trying the whole push me away thing isn’t going to work for you. I’m stuck here.” He turned to stare at me. “We’re stuck together. So stop your shit. I’m not going anywhere.”

As soon as I heard those words, it was as if the knot in my stomach loosened even further and dissipated altogether. My brothers were the only ones on my side, always. However, they hadn’t been there until we grew older. When we were younger, we were separated by a degree of scorned wives and hidden lovers. As much as I appreciated having them around now, even throughout the chaos, I still craved someone who would stick by my side. Not because we were blood but because that person wanted to.

Harlow doesn’t want to be here. Don’t forget that. He’s sticking around because he has nowhere else to go. That’s it.

I wanted to shove that voice in the back of my head into a woodchipper. My chest ached as fingers laced through mine and squeezed. Harlow didn’t look at me anymore, but he held my hand as he leaned forward, turned on the TV, and flipped through the channels. Once he settled on something, he put the remote down and held his hand out to me.

“Phone.”

“What?” I muttered, still mesmerized by the sight of our hands locked together.

“Give me your phone, damn it,” he sighed, exasperation in his tone. “Come on.”

“There’s classified shit on there,” I muttered as I dug it out.

“And you can keep it, you big baby. I’m ordering some food. That burger joint is still open.”

My mouth watered just thinking about it. I handed the phone over and leaned, resting my head against his shoulder. Harlow stiffened. His thumb paused from scrolling the food app before he slowly started to move again. I gave myself permission to cuddle up just this once. I stared at the vein in Harlow’s neck as it pulsed. Leaning over, I ran my tongue over it. Harlow moaned.

He shoved a hand into my chest, and I flopped against the back of the couch. “Food,” he said firmly. “And TV.”

I stared at him in awe as he flipped to some reality tv bullshit. Harlow busied himself ordering food for us while I continued to look at him. Part of me knew he was aware of my gaze, but I continued to gawk anyway. He finally put the phone down.

“What did you order me?” I asked.

“Double cheeseburger, rare, with extra mushrooms and bacon,” he rattled off as if he actuallyknewme. “I also ordered you two sides of strawberry cheesecake.”

My heart pounded in my chest. “Let’s go to the bedroom,” I said as I crowded his space. My hand dipped into his shorts, and he slapped it hard. “Come on, give it to me.”

“Fuck you,” Harlow growled. “So you can say you don’t remember it tomorrow? No way in hell. You’re too drunk, baka.”

“That means idiot,” I pointed out. “I know that much.” When he turned toward me, I grinned. “I’ve been to Japan a few times. I even saw you there. Never thought you’d be the type to wear a dress, but I used to imagine you in one. Did you know that?”

Harlow groaned. “Oh, sit back, you drunken moron.”

“I mean it,” I protested. “Every time I saw you at one of those meetings, I would wonder what you’d look like as a girl.”

“Too bad I’m a guy,” he snapped as he stood up abruptly. “Apparently, that’s not good enough for you.”

I dragged Harlow back to the couch despite his protests. Once he was down, I laid my head on his chest and wrapped my arms around him tight.

“I never said that,” I mused. “Don’t get so defensive, mostricio.”

Harlow was quiet for a moment before he muttered a sentence that barely counted as whispering. “So I’m good enough for you?”

I frowned. “That matters to you, doesn’t it?”

He glanced at me before he shrugged and pulled inward on himself. Feet on the couch, arms wrapped around his legs, he shielded himself as if he had been too vulnerable and needed to protect himself physically.

I moved without thinking, dragging Harlow into my arms. My nose was buried in his hair, inhaling the scent of my shampoo on his dark locks as he started to squirm and curse in Japanese. I held on tighter.

“Complain all you want,” I muttered. “Just for tonight, I’m not letting you go.”

The hustleand bustle of Chinatown was familiar and the one place I hated visiting. My nerves were shot, every sound grating against them. The only thing keeping me from flying off the handle was Tony beside me. If I went crazy, Benito would have me confined to that fucking penthouse again.

I was going stir-crazy. One more minute in there, and I would end up painting the walls with blood.

“Are you going to glare the entire time you’re with me?” I stared at my reluctant guard. Telling Benito I didn’t need a shadow was pointless, and if I gave Tony the slip, it would give me more of a headache than not.

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