Mister O

She juts up a shoulder. “I wasn’t upset. But it was a little odd, to be honest.” Her voice drops a notch. “Mostly because I feel like I can’t compare.”


I shake my head and pull her close, my heart lurching toward her. “Stop. There’s no comparison.”

“But you chose to be with her. You’re just doing this with me because I asked.”

My shoulders sink. “I can’t believe you’d think that. This is not an obligation. It’s the best time I’ve had in ages.”

Best time.

Okay, maybe that wasn’t the most romantic word choice, but I don’t really know what this conversation is about, or how to properly reassure her that she’s amazing.

“I’ve had a good time, too,” she says softly.

I tilt my head, try to study her, to figure out what’s going on in her head—but even more so, what’s in her heart, and if it’s even remotely close to matching what’s in mine. I can’t tell, and I desperately want to know. Because if there’s a chance she feels the same, I should say something. I should let her know I don’t want this time with her to end.

“What’s going on, Harper? You seem pensive,” I say and brush a strand of hair from her cheek.

She nibbles on her lip, looks away, then turns back to me, and the words spill out, piling on top of each other like clowns spilling out of a car. “I-keep-wondering-do-you-think-we’ll-be-like-that?”

“What?” I ask, as my heart speeds up. She’s never spoken that quickly with me. She’s never used her awkward language, and it gives me this wild burst of hope. Maybe Jillian is right.

Holy shit, I hope Jillian is right.

Harper slows, takes a breath. “Will we stay friends?”

The burst of hope dies a cruel, painful death. All the air leaks out of me and I’m utterly deflated, even though I knew this was coming. I’ve known from the start. Her actions have always told me I’m not a guy she wants to date.

But I can’t let on how hard this hits.

“Of course,” I say with a big smile, trying to mask the disappointment rooting in my chest. Because as tough as it will be to not be intimate with her, losing her friendship will be much worse. Maybe best time wasn’t such a bad description after all—Harper and I do have an amazing time together, and I can’t imagine not having her in my life. These last few weeks have been the most fun, vibrant, and wonderful time I’ve had with anyone. If she were gone entirely in the wake of some breakup or weird romantic misunderstanding, that fate would be worse. “That’s what you want, right?”

She nods. “I do want to stay friends. You and Jillian get along. And I want that to be us. I want to go to your signings and save you in line from women with magic bullets in their pockets and dangerous biker husbands. I want to get you detergent to clean the hot chocolate I spill on you. And if you need me at a bowling tournament to throw a few frames, I want to be the one tossing the gutter balls,” she says quickly, racing through each sentence, barely breathing. “I want to see you at dinner with Spencer and Charlotte, or just walking dogs in the park with your brother. Or if you ever get a new shower, I want to help you pick it out.”

God, her words kill me and lift me up. They make me feel so good, and so fucking awful at the same time. Because it’s clear what she’s saying. When this ends. Because it will end. It has to. It has a beginning, and it will have an end, like all the others who have come and gone. Even though I will miss this woman in a way I never have anyone else.

And I wish that I could tell her I want to be so much more than her wingman and buddy. But if I tell her that, will I risk losing her as a friend, too?

There’s no answer key for me to follow on this count. I can read her cues in bed, but I haven’t the foggiest idea what would happen if I told her I didn’t want to be her teacher—I want to be her guy.

I choose the path I can see clearly. “Harper, you better always be in my life. It’s just brighter and more fun with you in it. And if you need me to . . .” I trail off because what have I actually done for her? Offered dating advice? Mocked a dude who used emoticons? Or just introduced her to multiple orgasms? Is that the mark I’ve left? “If you need anything, I’m your man.”

She smiles faintly, the kind of smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. “Will you take me to the train station tomorrow? After Hayden’s party that I’m doing,” she says, and I force myself to blot out the reminder of Hayden’s father, Simon. “I have to go to Connecticut in the afternoon. Remember?”