Jace’s voice pierces through my thoughts, and I stop short when he’s standing next to my car. Crap, I really spaced out.
“Sorry, what?”
Focus, man. Everything will work out somehow.
I unlock the car and throw my bag inside. Then I turn to Jace.
“I said you’re freaking me out.”
I swallow. “Everything’s fine. Just a lot going on, and Natasha isn’t helping with that. I need to go home, but I’ll see you tomorrow?”
He nods, all playfulness gone from his features. “I’m only a phone call away, don’t forget that.”
“I won’t. Thanks.”
I clap him on the upper arm before getting into the car and starting it.
The drive goes by in auto mode, and I’m relieved to be back home. Not caring about anything but Harper, I drop my bag somewhere, grab a drink and dinner from the fridge, and my laptop, and plant myself on the couch. Harper should be landing any minute now, and I don’t want to miss it.
Knowing she’s so far away leaves me with an ache in my stomach. I wish I could have spent more time with her. Gotten to know her better. Explored that connection I feel with her some more. It was there on New Year’s Eve, and I felt it again the second she stepped back into my life—after I got over the shock of seeing her in front of my house and the news she delivered. But I think everyone in my situation would have felt like that.
There’s no denying there’s something between us. Without a doubt, she’s beautiful—a total knockout—but there’s so much more than her physical beauty. It’s also our conversations. They’re easy and fun and interesting, and I feel a pull toward her I can’t remember ever having with another woman before.
I watch the airline website load while I’m wolfing down my quinoa chili. The connection is slow but finally loads, so I type in Harper’s flight number. Disappointment rushed through me this morning when I saw she’d sent over her flight details like promised. A small part of me had hoped she’d change her mind and stay longer after all.
Natasha’s social media post pops into my head, and I have to fight the twitchy feeling that wants to take over my body just thinking about her. No, it’s good Harper left. That way there’s nothing Natasha can report. Maybe that’ll make her drop it altogether, so it would be safe for Harper to visit again sometime soon.
Shit. I don’t even know when I’ll see her again. We didn’t really talk about how we’ll tackle everything.
But who can blame us? Neither one of us was prepared for this.
And if it’s staggering for me, I can’t even begin to understand how overwhelming it must be for Harper, who’s actually the one carrying the baby. She’s the one dealing with the daily exhaustion and nausea, and the one who will ultimately give birth to it.
The computer pings, showing that her plane just landed, and something in my chest loosens.
Harper made it safely across the country. The mother of my child. My baby. They’re both safe. If that isn’t the most insane, oddest, yet momentous thought I’ve had in a while, I don’t know what is.
I unlock my phone, open Harper’s contact, and click the message icon.
Ryan: I saw you landed. Hope you had a good flight.
I don’t have to wait long for her answer. Did she let someone else know she’d made it? Her mom is still on her trip, her dad lives here, and her best friend moved to England. Who else is in her life? She didn’t mention any other friends or family. Maybe having a fact sheet about the other like Harper once mentioned as a joke wouldn’t be such a terrible idea after all.
Or you could ask her.
Harper: I did, thank you. Just wish I was home already. I hate the commute to and from the airport. Especially in the dark.
Well, there goes my attempt at staying calm.
Ryan: Do you still have to drive?
Harper: No. I’ll take the train.
What the hell?
Ryan: By yourself?
Shit. That might be normal in New York, but that doesn’t mean it’s safe. Especially for a pregnant woman.