Chapter 67 HARPER
The arcade felt louder than it had earlier.
Or maybe it was just me.
Lights flashed in uneven bursts across the ceiling, colors bouncing off polished floors and glass screens. Music from at least three different machines crashed into each other in the air, mixing with laughter, shouting, and the occasional hiss of soda dispensers. Everyone looked like they were having a good time. Everyone but me.
I leaned against one of the high tables near the racing simulators, pretending to be invested in my drink while watching Mark from the corner of my eye.
He stood a few feet away, talking to Cassie.
Cassie had a way of talking that included a lot of touching.
Her fingers brushed his arm when she laughed. Her shoulder leaned just a little too close to his chest. Her voice pitched higher than usual, all playful and light. The kind of flirting that was loud enough to be undeniable.
I waited for the familiar twist of jealousy.
It didn’t come.
Instead, I felt… detached. Like I was watching a scene from across a glass wall. I noted the way Mark shifted uncomfortably after a few seconds, how his answers stayed polite but brief. How his attention drifted back toward where I stood every few moments, like he was checking to see if I was okay.
Cassie didn’t seem to notice.
Or she noticed and didn’t care.
Still, nothing sharp surged through me. No spike of possessiveness. No anger.
Maybe it was because Mark wasn’t feeding into it.
Maybe it was because I still thought of him more as a safe space than a spark.
Or maybe my heart was just tired.
“Wow,” Megan muttered beside me. “If she leans any closer, she’s going to merge with him.”
I snorted before I could stop myself.
“She’s harmless,” I said. “Just loud.”
“Loud and trying,” Megan corrected. “Two very different things.”
I tilted my head, watching her brother finally step back and angle his body away from Cassie. Relief flickered faintly in my chest, but it was dull. Muted.
And then I made the mistake of thinking of Tyler.
Not the version of him from yesterday. Not the quiet, hurt one with the distant eyes.
The version of him with his jaw tight in the arcade lights. His shoulders tense. The way his posture shifted the second he saw Mark with his hand on my waist.
My pulse jumped so hard it startled me.
The jealousy hit then.
Hot and sudden.
Not at Cassie.
At myself.
I pressed my lips together and took a slow drink, trying to drown the feeling in sugar and ice.
“Still thinking too hard?” Megan asked, bumping her shoulder lightly against mine.
“Always,” I said.
She grinned. “You’re exhausting.”
Before I could respond, I heard Peter’s voice nearby.
“Yeah—wait, what?” he said into his phone.
Something in his tone made my stomach drop.
The world didn’t actually go quiet, but it felt like it did. Like someone had turned the volume down on everything else and left only his voice turned up.
“An accident?” Peter said. “Where?”
My fingers tightened around my cup.
Megan straightened beside me. “What’s up?”
Peter ran a hand through his hair, pacing a few steps. “Okay… okay, yeah. I got it. I’ll come now.”
He ended the call and shoved his phone into his pocket.
My heart was already racing. “Peter?”
He looked at me. “It’s Tyler.”
The air left my lungs too fast.
“What?” I whispered. “What happened?”
“He got into a car accident,” Peter said quickly. “He’s fine. At least, that’s what he said. He’s heading home now.”
The floor felt unsteady beneath my feet.
“I’m coming with you,” I said immediately.
He nodded like he expected that. “Yeah. I figured.”
Mark appeared at my side, concern written plainly across his face. “What’s going on?”
“Tyler was in an accident,” I told him.
His jaw tightened. “Is he okay?”
“He says he is,” Peter replied. “But I don’t trust ‘I’m fine’ when it comes to him.”
“None of us do,” Cassie muttered, joining us.
“I’m going too,” Mark said without hesitation.
I hesitated.
Just a fraction of a second.
And then I remembered.
Mark and I—we’re seeing each other.
I swallowed and nodded. “Yeah. Of course.”
My chest loosened slightly. Just enough to let air back in.
The group didn’t take long to pull together after that. Jax, Kane, Billy, David, Cassie, and Megan all piled into different cars in a matter of minutes. The usual noise followed us out—laughter, confusion over who was driving with who, someone complaining about leaving mid-game.
Megan slid into the backseat of Mark’s car with a dramatic sigh. “I can’t believe I’m third-wheeling my own brother and my best friend. I deserve financial compensation.”
“You chose this,” Mark said as he pulled out of the parking lot.
“I absolutely did not,” she shot back. “This is emotional warfare.”
I smiled faintly despite myself and stared out the window as we drove.
Mark’s hand rested on the center console, close but not quite touching mine. After a moment, he shifted it slightly so his fingers brushed against mine.
“You okay?” he asked quietly.
“Yes,” I said automatically.
He tilted his head. “That didn’t sound convincing.”
I sighed. “I’m just… worried. He’s my patient too. And my friend. And he’s already hurt.”
“I get that,” Mark said. “If you need space when we get there, I won’t take it personally.”
That made something warm flicker in my chest.
Megan gagged loudly from the backseat. “Please stop communicating in healthy sentences. It’s deeply unsettling.”
Mark laughed. I did too, softly.
As the car slowed in front of Tyler’s house, Megan leaned forward between our seats and whistled.
“Okay,” she said. “First of all—why does your friend live in what looks like a holiday movie set?”
The house was big. Bigger than it looked from the street. Warm light spilled from every window. Christmas lights lined the roof and the hedges. The driveway was already crowded with cars.
“They’ve got money,” I said absently. “His dad’s an engineer.”
“That explains literally nothing,” Megan replied.
We headed inside with the others, cold air slipping off our coats as warmth rushed in to meet us. Tyler’s house felt alive—music playing softly in the background, voices overlapping, the hum of movement and conversation.
Mrs. Rose was already moving through the living room with snacks balanced on a tray, her face bright with forced cheerfulness.
“Everyone’s here for Tyler, right?” she asked. “He’s upstairs.”
Peter glanced at me. “You go check on him first.”
I nodded, suddenly nervous in a way I didn’t fully understand.
The stairs felt longer than usual.
With every step, my thoughts crowded closer together. What if he was worse than he said? What if the accident had made his shoulder worse? What if—
I found his door partly open.
Tyler lay flat on his back across his bed, one arm angled up, phone in his hand, while the other, tucked into the sling, rested across his stomach. His curls stuck out in every direction, wild as always.
“Ty?” I said softly.
He turned his head, and our eyes met.
Relief hit me like a punch—sharp, sudden, and completely unprepared for.
I stepped closer and perched on the edge of his bed. “What happened? Peter said there was an accident. Did you hit your head? Is your shoulder worse? Your cheek—Ty, what happened?”
He lifted his sling-hand slowly, wincing. “Got into a… tangle,” he said, voice low. “Nothing with the shoulder—just a scratch and a bruise. I’ll survive.”
I reached out, hesitant, and traced a fingertip along the faint yellow bruise blooming on his cheek.
He shifted upright, carefully, keeping the sling tucked close. The movement was slow and cautious, but suddenly his face was inches from mine, his eyes flicking to my lips then back. He swallowed. I froze, pulse spiking, and realized I was sitting a little too close for comfort.
The air between us thickened, Tyler's eyes fixed on mine, like he wanted to say something. My mind scrambled while my body refused to move.
His hand reached up to cup mine, that was still on his face, and something electric shot through me. I quickly withdrew my hand, knowing just how tempting his touch was to me.
“I—sorry,” I said softly. “I just… everyone’s downstairs. They wanted to see you.”
He nodded once. “Give me a second.”
We took the stairs together in silence.
The living room erupted with noise the moment he appeared. Jax clapped him on the good shoulder. Kane made a bad joke about defying death. Billy handed him a drink, which he accepted this time. David asked about the crash like they were analyzing game footage. Cassie hovered nearby, tossing playful looks at Kane and teasing anyone who looked too serious.
Tyler stayed calm through all of it—polite, distant, taking it all in.
Mark stayed close by, a quiet presence at my side, while Megan drifted between groups, an agent of chaos.
After a while, conversation relaxed. Snacks were passed around. Someone put on a louder playlist. Tyler sat on the arm of the couch, watching everything like he was slightly removed from it.
Eventually, Mark leaned close and murmured, “We should head out soon. It’s getting late.”
I nodded. “Yeah.”
Megan groaned loudly. “I just got comfortable.”
Tyler backed Mark up, saying he’d like to get some rest too. Something felt off about him, but it wasn’t my business—not when I was with someone else.
When we stopped outside my house, the street was quiet. The porch light glowed softly, everything looking normal.
Mark walked me to the door.
“I’m glad he’s okay,” he said.
“So am I.”
He hesitated, searching my face. “You sure you’re alright?”
I nodded. “Yeah.”
He leaned in.
Before his lips could reach mine—
BEEP.
The horn blared.
Megan whooped from inside the car. “BOUNDARIES, CHILDREN!”
Mark laughed despite himself and pressed a quick, soft kiss to my lips instead. “Goodnight.”
“Goodnight.”
As his car pulled away, I reached for my door.
It wasn’t locked. But I could swear I locked it before stepping out. A prickle of unease slid down my spine as I pushed it open slowly.
The house was dark. Too dark.
I switched on the lights to find a figure standing at the dining table, back to me, lifting a glass to his lips like he belonged there.
My heart jumped into my throat.
“Who the hell are you?” I whispered.
He turned.
My stomach plummeted.
“Sam.”