Chapter 26 Chapter 25
Harper POV
The front door bang-closes behind me and I stumble into the foyer like I forgot how legs work.
Three Alpha Chi sisters freeze mid-conversation — Lily with her latte, Shay with a face mask on, Jenna holding a bowl of cereal like it’s a sacred artifact.
Their eyes are huge.
“Oh my god—”
“Was that—?”
“Did Logan Shaw just—”
“No.”
My voice comes out cracked and too sharp.
“No, we’re not doing this.”
I hold up a hand like I can physically push the world back.
Shay blinks. “Babe. We literally watched him—”
“Please.”
It’s barely a whisper.
“If anyone hugs me right now, I will evaporate.”
Lily hands me a tissue like she’s afraid I’ll bite.
I take it.
I can feel my pulse everywhere — in my throat, my wrists, my teeth.
My lips still feel like they’re holding memory.
I hate that.
“I’m fine,” I lie.
“I just… need upstairs. Space. Air. A time machine.”
Jenna whispers, “My dude looked possessed. Like ‘screw Romeo, I’m eating the stage’ energy.”
I give her a look that could ruin crops.
She zips her lips.
I go up the stairs.
One hand on the banister because I am not confident my legs won’t fold like bad origami.
Halfway up, my breath breaks.
What just happened?
He kissed me.
Like I was oxygen.
Like he was drowning.
And I kissed him back.
Embarrassment scorches my skin — humiliation, rage, heartbreak, wanting, all twisted up, choking me.
How can something feel so right and so stupid at the same time?
I get to my room. Shut the door. Lean against it like I’m holding back a flood.
I squeeze my eyes shut hard.
He kissed me yesterday.
He kissed another girl last night.
He kissed me again just now.
Like my mouth is a toy he picks up when he remembers it exists.
God, I hate him.
God, I hate that I don’t.
A sob tries to climb up my throat. I swallow it down like poison.
Not here.
Not where the walls can hear.
I grab my shoes again and shove my arms back into my coat.
I need outside air or I’ll shatter and melt into this carpet.
Deep breath.
I open the door and walk back down the stairs.
Lily raises a hand. “Do you need—”
“I really can’t talk,” I say, not slowing.
She just nods and gently shoves Shay back who was reaching for me like a golden retriever ready for emotional support duty.
I push through the door.
Cold air slams into my lungs.
Good.
It hurts.
I deserve it.
I step down the porch stairs — and stop dead.
Not Logan.
Cole.
Standing at the end of the walkway like he was either leaving or waiting — hoodie up, hands in pockets, brows pulled together when he sees me.
Well. Fantastic.
Which humiliation arc is this? The sequel? The spin-off?
He studies my face. Just one second. Enough to read everything.
“You okay?” he asks quietly.
“No.”
My voice breaks on the first word.
“I’m really, really not.”
He nods. Slow. Like he expected that answer.
“You want to talk?”
“No.”
“You want to walk?”
“…yes.”
He doesn’t smile like he won something.
He just turns. Falls in step beside me.
We make it halfway down the sidewalk before I speak again. My voice is thin and shaking.
“He kissed me.”
Cole’s jaw moves. “I saw.”
“It meant nothing,” I whisper.
And god, that hurts more than saying it meant something.
Cole’s voice turns low — protective, dangerous.
“Then he’s a bigger idiot than I thought.”
I laugh — short and broken. “I don’t need pity.”
“This isn’t pity,” Cole says.
“This is me not punching my teammate in the face out of respect for your emotional processing timeline.”
I blink hard. Tears threaten. No. Not here. Not in broad daylight on Greek Row like I’m starring in a tragic college film.
“Cole,” I breathe, shaking my head. “I can’t do this. I can’t— I don’t want him in my head.”
He glances at me. “Little late for that.”
“Don’t say that.”
“Why? It’s true.”
“I hate him,” I whisper fiercely.
“I hate that he touches me like he means it and then acts like I’m a mistake. I hate that he only wants me when he feels like it. I hate that I—”
My voice breaks open.
“I hate that I feel anything at all.”
Cole stops walking. Turns to face me fully.
His voice is soft. Honest.
Not flirting. Not pity.
“You’re not a mistake. He just doesn’t know what to do with something real. Guys like him play with fire until they realize it burns.”
I swallow hard. “And you?”
“I warm things,” he says simply.
It hits harder than a line.
It sounds like truth.
“And if you ever let someone treat you like you’re an accident again? I’ll personally throw them through a recycling bin. Sustainability matters.”
I snort — ugly and unexpected.
“Cole…”
He lifts a hand. Not touching. Just there.
“No moves. No pressure. Just this:
You deserve someone who shows up, not someone who shows up only when he’s scared to lose you.”
I close my eyes and breathe.
Once. Slow. Trembling.
Then—
A door slams behind us.
Logan.
Of course it’s Logan.
His voice is raw steel. “Harper!”
Cole’s body shifts just slightly — not blocking me, but ready.
Logan comes down the steps like he’s holding himself together with anger and oxygen deprivation.
Eyes wild. Hair a mess. Like he sprinted.
“You left,” he spits, as if that’s a crime.
“You should be glad,” I snap back. “Makes it easier to get back to your—”
“Don’t finish that,” he growls, jaw clenching.
“Why? You don’t like words unless they’re on my mouth?”
His chest rises sharp, like he’s been stabbed.
Cole lifts a brow. “Maybe you shouldn’t yell at the girl you just kissed and wrecked emotionally, Captain.”
Logan’s glare could combust asphalt.
“This isn’t your business.”
Cole smiles with no humor. “She can decide that.”
Logan looks at me.
Just me.
Like the world shrank to two stupid people who don’t know how to let go or hold on.
“Don’t go with him,” he says.
And there it is — the breaking point.
My heart tears open. My pride stitches it shut.
“You don’t get to choose for me,” I whisper.
“You never did.”
He takes one step forward — almost reaching for me — then stops like the air turned to glass.
“Harper…”
“No.”
I shake my head.
“I am done being your almost.”
Silence detonates between us.
Cole exhales, a quiet damn under his breath.
I turn to walk — not knowing where, just needing motion.
And Logan doesn’t follow.
This time, he just stands there — fists clenched, chest heaving, watching me leave like he finally understands what losing looks like.
And it kills us both.