And I hated game-players.
But what I hated now was the thought of Harper thinking that I was playing games withher –which was why I'd given her the full, if slightly repugnant, story of my unexpected delay.
When several moments passed without Harper finishing the sentence, I asked, "But what?"
"Well, the truth is…I'm wondering if you'd find it kind of boring."
This made me laugh.No games there.But she was dead wrong. Harper was a lot of things, but never boring. "Why do you say that?"
"Okay, the thing is…I wasn't inviting you over for um, a…"
"Booty call?"
"Well, I wouldn't have put itthatway. But yeah, I just meant that I was inviting you over just to hang out, like with me and the kittens."
"Great."
Again, she paused. "Was that a sarcastic great? Or a regular great?"
I smiled at her directness. "Did Isoundsarcastic?"
"Not really."
"Well there ya go," I said. "So, does the invitation still stand?"
Turns out, it did.After finalizing the details, she gave me the address along with a digital code to get through the neighborhood gate. I arrived within forty minutes, pulling into the driveway of a house that was substantially more upscale than the one I was staying in now.
When I rang the doorbell, Harper answered wearing dark jeans and a green holiday sweater – one with a small repeating pattern of little red Christmas trees.
Between that and her flaming red hair, she looked like Christmas on steroids, and I felt a big smile spread across my face. "Don'tyoulook Christmassy."
Her gaze swept the length of me. "And don’tyoulook delicious."
I looked down with a laugh. I was wearing a long-sleeved T-shirt that my parents had gotten me last Christmas.
The shirt was black with a cartoon of a cheeseburger driving a little red convertible. The burger sported dark sunglasses and a big, hungry smile. Above the burger, the shirt read,"Just driving through."
It was dorky as hell, but I'd loved it.
Twenty minutes ago, when I'd gotten dressed after my shower, I'd had a feeling that Harper would get a good kick out of it, especially given our history. With an obnoxious wink, I told her, "I wore it just for you."
"Lemme guess." She laughed. "Because of the drive-through thing?"
"You know it."
She beamed up at me. "I love it." But then, she narrowed her eyes in mock suspicion. "Unless this is your way of telling me that the drive-through is back on the menu."
"Withyouon the loose? Never."
"Oh, stop it," she said as she stepped aside to let me in. As I moved forward, I took a quick look around. "Nice place."
"Yeah, tell me about it," she said as she shut the door behind us. "But can I confess something?"
"Sure."
"I like my own place a little more."
I smiled. "So do I."
