Chapter 82 Chapter 81

Chapter 82 Chapter 81

Harper POV

By the time I finally crawl into bed, my body feels like it weighs a thousand pounds.

It’s not just the day. Or the week. Or the auction stress or the classes or the meetings or the fact that half the campus feels like it’s vibrating with drama.

It’s everything.

I kick off my shoes, don’t even bother changing, and just sit there for a second on the edge of my bed, staring at nothing.

My room is quiet in that comforting way. The kind that only happens late at night when the house has finally settled. A few girls are still awake somewhere down the hall, laughing softly, but in here it’s just me and my thoughts.

Which is not always a great combination.

I pull my hair out of its clip and let it fall down my back, then flop onto the mattress and stare at the ceiling.

I’m tired in a way sleep won’t fix.

Tired of thinking about Logan.

Tired of not thinking about Logan.

Tired of replaying every look, every almost-word, every moment that never seems to land where I want it to.

I roll onto my side and hug a pillow to my chest.

Before, I could be irritated at him and keep my distance. Before, I could tell myself I was just annoyed.

Now… everything feels closer to the surface. Raw. Like I don’t have as much armor as I thought I did.

I don’t regret what happened.

That’s the part I keep circling back to.

What I hate is how easy it’s been for him to pretend I’m not there.

That part sits heavy in my chest.

I squeeze my eyes shut.

Stop.

Just stop thinking about him.

I reach for my phone on the nightstand, more out of habit than intention, and check the time.

11:47 p.m.

Too late to start anything new. Too early for my brain to shut up.

I set the phone back down and turn onto my other side.

And that’s when it buzzes.

The sound is loud in the quiet room.

I freeze.

For a second, I consider ignoring it.

For a second, I consider throwing it across the room.

Then it buzzes again.

My heart does something stupid and traitorous in my chest.

I grab it.

Logan.

Of course it’s Logan.

My thumb hovers over the screen like it’s a live wire.

Part of me wants to open it immediately.

Part of me wants to delete it without reading it.

I do neither.

I just… stare.

Then I exhale slowly and open the message.

Logan:

I know I’ve been… avoiding you.

That’s not okay.

We need to talk. About the date. About everything.

I read it once.

Then again.

Then a third time.

My chest feels tight.

He knows.

He knows he’s been avoiding me.

That almost makes it worse.

I drop the phone onto my bed and stare at the ceiling again.

Talk.

About everything.

Those are dangerous words.

Those are words that can fix things.

Or break them completely.

I turn onto my side and pick the phone back up.

Type three words.

Delete them.

Type something longer.

Delete that too.

What am I even supposed to say?

Part of me is angry.

Part of me is tired.

Part of me wants to protect what little dignity I have left.

And part of me—an annoyingly loud part—just wants him to look at me again like I matter.

I sit up, pull the covers around myself, and finally type:

Harper:

I’m exhausted.

But… yeah. We probably should.

I stare at the message for a second.

Then I hit send.

The phone stays in my hand as I lean back against the pillows.

My heart is beating too fast.

I don’t know if this conversation is going to make things better.

I don’t know if it’s going to hurt.

All I know is this:

Whatever is happening between me and Logan Shaw…

It’s not done yet.