Chapter 10 Five Minutes Of Forever, With My One True Love
Harper's POV,
"I want you," I whispered, and the words hung between us like a confession and a dare all at once.
Crew's eyes went dark, his hand on my back pressing me even closer until I could feel every hard line of his body against mine. "Say it again."
"I want you." My voice came out steadier this time, sure.
"And I really mean it. Not for Joel. Not for the cameras. Just you."
"Thank God," he breathed, and then his mouth was on mine.
His lips were warm and firm and tasted like champagne. His hand slid up my spine, fingers tangling in my hair, tilting my head back. I grabbed fistfuls of his jacket, pulling him closer, and felt his other hand tighten on my waist hard enough to leave marks through the silk.
He kissed me like he'd been starving for it.
His tongue swept past my teeth and I made a sound I'd never made before, something desperate that came from deep in my chest. His grip in my hair tightened and I felt that pull everywhere, my entire body lighting up like he'd flipped a switch.
My back hit something solid. Like a wall or column.
But I didn't care much.
All I knew was the heat of his mouth, the scratch of his jaw against my chin, the way his chest pressed against mine with every breath.
When we finally broke apart, both gasping for air, his forehead dropped to mine. I could taste him on my lips, smell his cologne mixed with sweat and something uniquely him.
"That wasn't for the cameras," he said, his voice wrecked.
"I know."
"Everyone's staring."
"Yeah… I know." I opened my eyes and it met his.
Basically, I saw my own desire reflected back at me. "And I don't give a damm."
A slow smile spread across his face and he kissed me again, softer this time but somehow deeper. His thumb traced my jaw, my neck, and I shivered despite the heat between us.
When we pulled apart again, I became aware of the noise around us.
Whispers, scattered applause, the click of phone cameras. And across the dance floor, through the crowd of swaying couples, I saw him.
Joel.
Standing frozen at his table, champagne glass halfway to his mouth, face completely white. Brianna was pulling on his arm, saying something urgent, but he wasn't listening.
Rather, he was staring at me with an expression I'd never seen before.
Pure, absolute devastation.
For ten years, I'd imagined this moment.
Imagined him realizing what he'd lost, the satisfaction I'd feel watching him hurt the way he'd hurt me.
But standing here in Crew's arms, tasting him on my lips, I felt nothing… Not even anger.
Because, Joel Hartley had become a stranger now.
Someone I used to know in another lifetime, when I was a different person who made herself small to fit into someone else's world.
"Harper?" Crew's voice pulled me back.
"You okay?"
"Yeah." I turned away from Joel and looked up at Crew instead.
"I'm perfect."
The music shifted to something slower, more intimate, and Crew pulled me back into his arms.
We started moving again, but everything felt different now. His hand on my back wasn't performing for cameras. The way I rested my head against his chest wasn't about making Joel jealous.
This was just us.
Real and messy and terrifying and just… absolutely right.
"I need to tell you something," Crew said quietly, his lips against my hair.
"Okay."
"I'm scared as hell right now."
I pulled back to look at him. "Of what?"
"Of how much I want this to be real." His thumb traced my cheekbone.
"Of how much I want you. I've spent three months pretending and now I don't know how to stop pretending except I'm not pretending anymore and–"
I kissed him, cutting off his rambling, and felt him relax against me.
"I'm not pretending either," I said against his lips.
"Haven't been for a while."
"Since when?"
"Probably since you defended me to those photographers." I smiled. "Or maybe since you held my hand in the car. Or maybe since the first time you looked at me like I was something precious to you."
His arms tightened around me. "Harper–"
Then he winced.
Just slightly, but I felt his entire body tense against mine.
"Crew?"
His smile stayed fixed but I felt his fingers dig into my waist, hard enough to hurt. "Keep dancing."
"You're in pain."
"I said keep dancing." His voice came out through gritted teeth.
I pressed closer, letting him lean more weight on me while making it look intimate. His breath was coming faster now, shallow and controlled like he was counting through it.
"We need to leave," I said against his ear.
"Five more minutes."
"Crew–"
"Please." His forehead dropped to my shoulder and I felt him shaking.
"Just give me five more minutes of this being real before everything falls apart."
My chest tightened. "What do you mean falls apart?"
"They're going to find out. About the pills. About all of it." His voice cracked.
"And when they do, I lose everything. My contract, my team, my career. So just… let me have this. Let me pretend I'm not completely broken for just a few more minutes.”
I pulled back and looked at him, really looked at him, and saw everything he'd been hiding. The pain. The fear. The desperate need to be enough for me even though he was barely holding himself together.
"You're not broken, Crew," I said fiercely.
"You're hurting. There's a difference."
"Harper–"
"And I love you anyway." The words came out before I could stop them.
"I love you, Crew Lawson. The real you. The one who's in pain and scared and trying so hard to be strong. I love all of it. All of you."
His eyes went wide, shock and hope and something that looked like fear all warring on his face.
"You don't mean that."
"Yes I do."
"You can't. You don't even know…"
"I know enough." I cupped his face in my hands, making him look at me.
"I know you're addicted to painkillers. I know you're hiding it from your team. I know Vanessa tried to warn me about you and I chose you anyway. I know this is complicated and messy and probably going to hurt like hell.”
“But I love you anyway."
"Harper." My name came out broken.
“I’m going to mess this up. You’ll be disappointed. I’ll–”
"Let me decide what I can handle." I kissed him softly. "Let me love you. Even if you're not perfect. Especially if you're not perfect."
"I love you too," he whispered. "God help me, I love you so much it scares me."
"Good," I said. "Be scared with me."
The music swelled around us and we were both crying now, holding each other in the middle of a crowded ballroom, and I'd never felt anything more real in my entire life.
Then Crew's knees buckled.
It happened fast. One second he was holding me, the next his entire body went rigid and his legs gave out. I caught him, barely, my arms going around his waist as his weight sagged against me.
"Crew!"
"I'm okay, I'm okay." But his voice was thin and strained and his face had gone completely white.
"No you're not." I looked around desperately. People were starting to notice, to turn and stare. "We need to get you out of here right now."
"Harper."
"Now, Crew."
I got my shoulder under his arm, supporting as much of his weight as I could, and started walking us off the dance floor. He was trying to move on his own, trying to make it look casual, but I could feel him shaking against me.
We made it maybe ten steps before someone blocked our path.
Joel.
"Harper, what's going on?" He looked between us, concern all over his face. "Is he okay?"
"Move," I said.
"Let me help–"
"I said MOVE, Joel." I yelled, cutting him off.
Something in my voice must have convinced him because he stepped aside.
We pushed through the crowd, ignoring the whispers and the stares and the phones definitely recording everything.
We were almost to the exit when Crew's legs gave out completely.
I couldn't hold him. He was too heavy, going down too fast. We hit the floor hard, me trying to cushion his fall, and suddenly there were people everywhere.
"Someone call 911!"
"Give them space!"
"Is he breathing?"
I cradled Crew's head in my lap, his eyes fluttering open and closed, his breathing shallow and rapid.
"Stay with me," I begged. "Crew, please stay with me."
His hand found mine, squeezing weakly. "I'm sorry," he mumbled. "I'm so sorry, Harper."