He wasn’t sure how it was possible. Harper was loud and confident and hilarious. She never seemed too afraid to take up space, and those around her were grateful for it. Fuck, she’d even pulled Eiley out of her shell, andshe’dbeen shy since the day she was born. How could she be that amazing and not know about it?
His hand found hers, hard and cold as stone on her warm thigh. She frowned at their intertwining fingers as though she didn’t understand them. “You’re a pain in the neck, Harper, but I think you’re perfect.”
“Does it bother you that I’m bisexual?”
“Why would that bother me?”
“It bothers some men. Makes them all insecure, like I’m going to go and snog the first woman I come across. Or they ask if that means we can have a threesome, which would be fine if they weren’t being misogynistic perverts about it.”
He choked on nothing, half-amused and half-alarmed. Was that really what it was like for her? Cam was a lesbian, so he’d seen the occasional judgemental glance thrown her way when she held hands with Sorcha in the street. Not in this town, thank goodness, but it happened.
He hadn’t really considered that Harper might have faced her own problems. The way he saw it, someone else’s sexuality wasn’t something for him to judge. People deserved to define themselves and love however and whoever they wanted, and the idea of that being used as a weapon in any capacity made his blood boil.For his sister, for Andy, for Harper, for every other queer person he’d met, and those he hadn’t.
“Jesus. You’ve come across some serious bastards,” he uttered sourly. “No, it doesn’t bother me in the slightest.”
She finally met his eye, surprise widening her own. Why did she always expect something else? Something worse? Was it because she thought he was a wee bawbag, or was it just that she really had been accustomed to awful people who tore her down?
He cleared his throat, feeling overwhelmed by the intensity of her eye contact. Instead, he looked down and brushed the pad of his thumb around the rim of his mug. “So, this Kenzie… Are you trying to get her back or something? Is that why you’re posting all those pictures on Instagram and writing a book and whatnot?”
He tried to keep his tone nonchalant, but he couldn’t ignore the waver of dread, the one that whispered it might be true. That she might just be here to transform her image into one that outranked the realtor girlfriend, or at least get revenge by achieving more than Kenzie and this new girl combined. It was natural to want to prove something after being hurt.
Was it natural to have really, really good foreplay with a random bloke in the process?
Thankfully, Harper said, “No. I think maybe I’m better off without her. Although… I wish I could go back and shove it all in her face with a nice six-figure book deal and a glow-up.” She chewed on the inside of her cheek. “No, actually. Scratch that.I wish I could stop caring enough towantto shove it in her face.”
He sagged against the couch, relieved. He didn’t want to be the rebound, even if he still technically was. Even if this was just for fun.
She sighed, grabbing her phone from the wobbly coffee table and beginning to scroll. “I keep checking to see if she’s viewing my posts. How sad is that?”
“Well, it’s not that easy to let go of someone who’s been in your life for a long time.” Not that he’d know. He never kept people around for long enough to. Maybe because he’d already experienced enough abandonment to last a lifetime. Even as a thirty-three-year-old, twenty years after his dad left, he still felt it deep inside. That question:why? Why hadn’t he and his sisters been reason enough to stick around? The arguments with Mum had been relentless, but that wasn’t supposed to be their burden, too. Why hadn’t Dad ever tried to make it right?
That, he supposed, was proof enough. People lingered, whether you wanted them to or not.
She hummed. “Anyway, enough about her. Let’s see if you got any Insta-worthy pictures of me.”
“I think you’ll be impressed. I am very good at pressing the capture button.”
She clicked through the images he’d taken, the posed ones that didn’t look like her. “Not bad,” she mused.
Unable to help himself, he pried the phone from her hands and flicked to the last few, where she’d been attempting to scope out fairies,and then laughing when she realised she’d fallen for his trick. “These ones are perfect.”
Her face contorted with disdain. “I look drunk. And look at my double chin.”
He rubbed the nape of his neck. “You look like a real person, having a good time instead of just pouting at the trees. You look like you.”
“Oh, Fraser. You are so naive.” She tapped his shoulder. “You’re not supposed to look like yourself on social media. You’re supposed to look like the person everybody else wants to be.”
He let out a sharp tut. “Look at this one. You’re smiling. Happy. Gorgeous. Isn’t that what everyone wants to be?”
She paused, mouth parted in surprise. He could see her scrutinising the picture. Looking for a flaw. As far as he was concerned, there were none.
“There’s a leaf on my head,” she said finally.
“I know. You walked around the whole trail with it. It was very funny.”
She slapped him playfully. “You’re awful.”
“Yup.”
