I gave her an amused look, like the answer to her question was obvious. “Seeing you.”
“But it’s Valentine’s Day. Shouldn’t you be going somewhere with your girlfriend?”
Girlfriend was a very loose term, but every time I tried to explain that to Harlow, she thought I was only saying it for her benefit. “No, I’m where I’m supposed to be.”
She tilted her head away, but not before I saw heat fill her cheeks and the corners of her mouth tilt up in a faint smile. When she looked back at me, her expression was stern. “That’s not very nice to do to her,” she informed me.
“Harlow, trust me. There’s nowhere I need to be more than where I am right now.”
She bit down on her bottom lip and looked like she might argue as her blue eyes searched mine. Just when I started to repeat myself, she huffed and her mouth quirked up in a lopsided smile. “If you were anyone else, I really would feel bad for your girlfriend . . . but you’re not, and you know I’m selfish enough to want you here.”
“Then it looks like I’m staying.” Like I would’ve left. Leaning around her, I grabbed the poppies off the bed and held them up to her. “For you.”
Harlow gave a giddy smile, then took the bouquet like it was something precious and breakable. Her eyes lifted to meet mine from where she’d been looking over her flowers, and she said, “Thank you, and perfect timing. My monthlies just met their unavoidable end with the trash.”
I followed her stare, and let out a low laugh when I saw half a dozen little cards piled up on her dresser. I’d sent her poppies every month since I’d met her, and each one had come with a card letting her know I was still waiting for her.
My head whipped back around and my eyes widened when I felt Harlow’s body press close to mine. Her head was tilted back as her vibrant eyes studied my face, and each breath made her chest brush against mine. My hand automatically went to her waist, and I tried to tell myself it was just to steady myself from being thrown off by her sudden closeness. I knew it was a lie even as I repeated it in my head over and over. My eyes fell to her lips. It would’ve been so easy to bend down and capture them with mine. So easy, and so wanted.
“Harlow,” I warned, my voice hoarse.
“One of these days . . .” She trailed off, and brought the flowers up from where she’d been holding them down by her side. “One of these days I’ll be able to kiss you to show you my thanks.”
I nodded slowly, absentmindedly, and cradled her face in my hands. “One day,” I promised, “and I’ll be waiting every day until then.” I gently pressed my mouth to the tip of her nose, then her forehead. “We need to get out of this bedroom.”
A soft giggle bubbled up from her chest, and she reluctantly pulled away from me. After clearing her throat she looked around her room, then to the door. “Um, right. Movie downstairs?”
“Movie,” I agreed.
“YOU HAVE GOT to be shitting me,” Graham said as soon as I was back in my room at the frat house late that night. “You know what, no, I’m gonna give you a chance to give me a different story.”
I eyed Graham and Deacon sitting in the room I shared with Deacon, and closed the door behind me to try to contain whatever was about to happen. Tension continued to fill the room as they glared at me, but I refused to say anything.
“Fine,” Deacon said. “Do you want to know who showed up here tonight to see if you were going to take her out for Valentine’s Day? Who was it, Graham?”
“Madison.”
“Oh that’s right!” Deacon said loudly. “Madison. Your girlfriend. Well, I’m just going to assume it’s ex now. Anyway, she had a lot to say. A lot of interesting things to say. Like how you’re waiting for someone else, so you don’t want anything serious with anyone. Things that she thought were bullshit, still might, and things she doesn’t have all the facts about, thank God.”
“Are you gonna say anything?” Graham asked, but I just shrugged. There wasn’t much to say. “Where were you tonight?”
“You know where I was.”
“She’s fucking fifteen, Knox!”
I ground my teeth and turned to look at the door, not that I could have seen if anyone was listening anyway. When I turned back around, I was glaring at Graham. “Sixteen,” I corrected.
“Like that makes it better?” they yelled at the same time.
“And I didn’t touch her. You know I won’t touch her,” I continued. “I just had to see her.”
Both of them sat there staring at me like they didn’t know what to do with me anymore. “Why?” Graham finally asked. “Why, Knox? This can only go bad for you. You have to be able to see that; you’re not blind, man.”
“I love—”
“Don’t!” He cut me off. “Just stop. The way you talk to her, how often you talk to her, the fact that you went to see her tonight . . . all of those things are marks against you. Knox, you can go to jail. We can’t let you do that over some girl.”
Deacon didn’t add anything, but he was nodding.