Chapter 122 TYLER
“I can’t.”
The second the words left my mouth, I knew I’d messed up.
Not because they weren’t true. They were. Just not in the way she thought.
Harper went still like I’d knocked the air out of her. It was subtle, but I saw it. I always saw it when it came to her. The way her fingers curled slightly at her sides. The way her gaze dropped for a fraction too long before she forced it back up.
“Oh.”
That one word hit harder than anything else she could’ve said.
She turned toward the door.
And that’s when the panic set in.
“Harper—”
She didn’t stop.
Her hand closed around the handle, and something in my chest tightened so fast it almost hurt. I moved before I could think it through, closing the distance between us and pressing my hand against the door, shutting it before she could open it.
“Wait.”
She stiffened, her back to me.
“Tyler, it’s fine,” she said, too quickly. “You don’t have to—”
I reached for her before she could finish, my hand finding her wrist, gentle but firm enough to stop her from pulling away. When she turned, her eyes were brighter than they’d been seconds ago, and that was it for me.
I kissed her.
It wasn’t planned. It wasn’t thought through. It was the only thing I could think of that might undo the damage I’d just done.
She froze under me at first, like she hadn’t expected it. Then she leaned into it, her hand clutching the front of my shirt, and the tension between us snapped into something else entirely.
Relief hit me quick and hard.
I deepened the kiss, my other hand coming up to her cheek, holding her there like I was afraid she’d disappear if I let go. Like if I didn’t do something right now, she’d walk out that door and take whatever this was with her.
When I finally pulled back, my forehead rested against hers, my breath still uneven.
“I want you,” I said quietly. “I do. I want to date you.”
Her lashes lifted, searching my face. “Then why did you say no?”
Because my parents told me to stay away. Because I already went against them once and I’m still dealing with the fallout. Because I don’t know how to choose between doing what they want and doing what I want without screwing everything up.
None of that made it past my lips.
“Not like this,” I said instead.
Her brows pulled together. “Not like what?”
“Not with you asking me.”
The words sounded ridiculous the second I said them, but I didn’t take them back.
She stared at me. “Does that really matter?”
“Yeah,” I said, softer now. “It does.”
It was only part of the truth, but it was the only part I could give her right now.
I wanted to ask her myself. I wanted to do it right, not rushed in a quiet room after she’d poured everything out first. I wanted her to feel it, the anticipation, the surprise, the kind of moment you don’t forget.
But more than that, I needed time.
Time to fix things at home.
Time to figure out how to not lose her while still dealing with everything else waiting for me outside this room.
She let out a quiet breath, stepping back slightly. “So what does that mean? I just pretend I didn’t ask you to be my boyfriend?”
“No,” I said quickly. “It’s not like that.”
“It feels like that,” she muttered, a hint of embarrassment slipping through. “I just got rejected, Tyler.”
“That wasn’t a rejection.”
She gave me a look that said she didn’t believe me.
“It wasn’t,” I insisted, stepping closer again. “If anything, it’s the opposite.”
“How?”
“Because I’m going to ask you.”
That made her pause.
“When you’re not expecting it,” I added. “When it actually feels like something worth remembering.”
Her lips curved slightly despite herself. “You don’t think I’ll remember this?”
“Not like that,” I said. “Not as something you had to push for.”
She studied me for a second, like she was trying to decide if I was serious or just saying whatever would make this better.
“So you’re just… delaying it?” she asked.
“Not for long,” I said.
I hoped that was true.
She let out a small laugh, shaking her head. “Fine. But if you take too long, I might just go meet someone else.”
It was clearly a joke.
But it hit me wrong.
Something sharp flared in my chest before I could stop it.
My hand found her waist, pulling her closer, the movement automatic.
“Don’t,” I said, my voice lower than I intended.
Her eyes widened slightly.
“I mean it,” I added. “I wouldn’t be able to take that.”
The words came out before I could soften them.
And they were honest.
Too honest.
I could still remember what it felt like seeing her with Mark.
The way it sat under my skin, constant and irritating, like something I couldn’t shake no matter how hard I tried to ignore it.
“I barely handled it with Mark,” I admitted. “I don’t have that kind of restraint anymore.”
She blinked at me, surprised.
There was something in the way she looked at me then that made my chest tighten all over again. Not fear. Not exactly. Just… something she hadn’t expected to see from me.
Good.
Because I meant it.
Her hand slid up my arm, fingers curling lightly, and then she leaned in and kissed me.
This time it wasn’t hesitant.
It wasn’t something she had to think about.
It was warm and sure and just reckless enough to make everything else fade out.
I pulled her closer, my hand tightening at her waist as I kissed her back, harder this time. Everything I’d been holding back slipped through the cracks. The frustration, the relief, the fact that she’d just stood there and said she wanted me like it was the simplest thing in the world.
Her fingers twisted into my shirt, holding on, and I let myself get lost in it. In her.
Nothing else mattered.
Not the hallway outside.
Not the fact that we were in school.
Not the conversation I knew I had to have later.
Just her.
Just this.
The door opened.
We broke apart instantly.
I turned, my arm still half around her, my mind catching up slower than the moment itself.
The janitor stood there, pausing mid-step as he looked between us.
“Well,” he said after a beat, one brow lifting. “Good thing it’s me.”
Harper stepped back quickly, her face flushed. “I’m so sorry.”
He waved it off. “You’re lucky it wasn’t a teacher. Wouldn’t have gone this easy for you.”
“Right,” she said, already moving toward the door. “Sorry.”
She slipped past him and out into the hallway.
I followed right after her.
The noise of the school hit me again the second I stepped out, like none of that had just happened.
“Harper,” I called.
She slowed, but she didn’t stop right away.
I caught up to her in a few steps.
“Hey.”
She finally looked at me.
There was still a trace of embarrassment on her face, but it wasn’t as bad as before. If anything, there was something lighter there now. Something that hadn’t been there when she’d turned to leave.
“I should go,” she said. “Class.”
“Yeah,” I said.
Neither of us moved.
I wanted to say something else. Something that would make this clearer, easier, less complicated than it actually was.
But the truth was, I didn’t have the right words yet. Not until I dealt with everything else.
She gave a small nod, then turned and walked away.
I watched her go, feeling a tight ache in my chest that refused to fade. Because this wasn’t just something I could keep putting off.
Not anymore.
Not after that.
Not after she’d stood there and told me she wanted me, no hesitation, no holding back.
I ran a hand through my hair, exhaling slowly.
I had to fix this.
With my parents.
With everything.
Because there was no way I was letting this slip through my fingers just because I didn’t have the guts to stand my ground.
Not when things were finally starting to fall into place.