By now, theoldHarper would've already stomped off after some choice words and then some. But I was trying for a new, improved version of myself – one with a little more self control.Or maybe a lot.
Into my silence, he said, "That's your cue to leave."
I didn't move. "I know."
He frowned. "So why aren't you going?"
"Because there's something I need to tell you."
"What? That you're sorry?" He shrugged. "Like I said, it's no big deal."
I felt my brow wrinkle in confusion. "But youdidn'tsay that."
"Alright. So I’m saying it now."
His words said one thing, but his eyes said another. Unless I was horribly mistaken, this was averybig deal – to him and to me.
My gaze drifted to his clothing – black running pants and the same long-sleeved burger T-shirt that we'd laughed about however many weeks ago.
Ilovedhis sense of humor, just like I loved his keen mind and wonderful laugh. Of course, he wasn't laughingnow.
In the open doorway, he said, "And stop looking at my shirt."
I pulled my gaze upward. "Seriously?"
"I didn't wear it because of you." He glanced away. "It was the only thing clean."
This made my lips twitch like they wanted to laugh. Why, I had no idea. This wasnotgoing how I'd hoped.
But now,hislips were twitching, too. "It's not funny."
It wasn't really.And even though his lips might want to laugh, his eyes looked so sad, it was nearly enough to break my heart.
Finally, I just said it. "Just so you know, I didn't sleep with Mitchell."
His mouth tightened. "Who's Mitchell?"
"Youknow," I said. "The guy you threatened with a fruitcake up the keister." Last night, when I'd walked Mitchell out to his car, he'd told me all about it. Just two days before Christmas Eve, he'd stopped by my house to drop off something for Lexie – some job leads from one of his sources.
He never got the chance.
When Bryce answered the door, he'd given Mitchell the look of death before telling him to stay the hell away unless he wanted a fruitcake up the ass.
I could think of only one reason why Bryce would say such a thing.He still cared.
And he believed something thatwasn'ttrue.
On the night of the party, he'd obviously seen me leave – and not alone either. In fact, he'd seen me leaving with a guy I'd been hugging and clutching in a purely platonic way. Even so, I could only imagine how it looked.
Now, in the open doorway, Bryce said, "Alright, so the guy has a name. So what?"
I stared up at him. "Didn't you hear what I just said? There was nothing between us. He just gave me a ride, that's all."
Bryce's jaw flexed. "That's not how it looked to me."
Nowthatwas funny. "Yeah? Well you know what? I know exactly how that feels, because I sawyouwith Natalia."
"So you said."
