Chapter 77 TYLER
Inside, the house was quiet, cozy, like everyone was already asleep except for us. Mom paused on the stairs, turning to face us.
“I almost forgot,” she said, slapping a palm to her forehead. “Peter’s staying with Tyler, and Jacob is back from the boarding house, so that leaves three free rooms for you to choose from, Harper.”
I wanted to protest, but Harper subtly pulled her hand from mine, shuffling slightly to put distance between us without so much as glancing in my direction.
“Whichever room you choose will be fine, Rose,” she said quietly.
“Oh, nonsense,” Mom waved a hand, moving toward Harper. “I’d rather you choose the one you’re most comfortable with. Why don’t we start with the two downstairs?”
“Um…okay.”
I reached for her hand instinctively but caught myself just in time. Mom turned back and called, “Tyler, why don’t you make yourself useful and bring her a comfy pair of clothes?”
“Sure,” I muttered, more to myself than anyone else.
I didn’t hesitate. I raced up the stairs, barging into my room where I knew Peter would be. He jumped up from the bed, headphones hanging around his neck, clutching his chest.
“Holy shit, why the fuck did you just barge in like that?”
“Harper’s here,” I blurted. “Harper’s staying over.”
His eyes widened, processing my words slowly. “Harper’s here? How? When?—How?”
I slammed the door shut behind me and planted myself by the foot of the bed. “Forget the details for now, but I think she's trying to tell me something. Like she mentioned something about moving on from me and having these feelings she can't process. Then all of a sudden she just wants to go back to being ordinary friends, like—bro, she's giving me mixed signals. I don't fucking understand what's going on between us anymore.”
“Whoa, slow down.” He sat up, crossing his legs and leaning forward, his voice dropping to a whisper. “She said she’s moving on from you?”
“Yeah,” I whispered back. “Like… what the hell does that even mean?”
Peter jumped to his feet instantly. “Yo, this is bad. She’s giving up on you, moron.”
“What? How the fuck can she give up on me and still want to be friends?”
He ran a hand down his face, clearly struggling to fathom my cluelessness. “I really don’t get how you suddenly don’t understand this stuff when it comes to Harper. You didn’t even go through all this stress asking Racquel out.”
I shot him a look, but he didn’t notice. He was staring at the ground, pacing, chin in hand, deep in thought. “Her saying she’s giving up on you means she’s not sure if you like her… which also probably means she has feelings for you, just like we guessed.”
My chest bloomed with hope. I got to my feet and blocked his path. “So, you’re saying now’s a good time to ask her out? She’s pushing me away, maybe out of guilt. Hell, she even faked a call with a dead phone rather than staying here.”
Peter gave me a skeptical look. “For real?”
“I’m serious, bro. She wouldn’t even look at me.”
“Well then,” he grinned, “we’ll just have to give her a reason to.”
I narrowed my eyes, already dreading his plan. “What the hell are you thinking now? It better be good. Ma wants her to stay in the guest room.”
“Even better,” he smirked. “You’ll get some alone time with her, and I’ll be your lookout.”
A part of me leaped at the thought—time alone with Harper that didn’t involve therapy. I tried to hide my excitement, but a small part of me actually hoped Peter might have a halfway decent plan this time.
Nope.
This time, he outdid himself. Peter's ‘brilliant’idea involved me sneaking outside, scaling the two-story building, and climbing through the window—shirtless—just to seduce Harper. Flawed, ridiculous, and completely unnecessary. I ended up paying him to shut up and just act as my lookout while I went inside to give Harper a change of clothes, hoping I could at least spend the night alone with her.
I grabbed the clothes from my room and knocked softly on Harper’s door.
“Hey… brought you something to change into,” I said, stepping inside.
She was sitting on the edge of the bed, arms crossed, shoulders tight. The faint shift of her gaze caught mine for a second before she looked away. “Thanks.”
I hesitated, hand holding the clothes. “You… need anything else? I can—”
“I don’t need anything else, Tyler,” she interrupted firmly. Not cold, just… distant.
I swallowed, forcing my voice low. “Right. Okay. I can… stay here while you sleep—I guess. I can take the floor if you want. We don’t have to share the bed.”
Her eyes flicked up for a moment, then dropped again. “No. You don’t need to.”
I forced a rough chuckle, hiding the sting behind it. “If I’m making this weird, I’m sorry. I'm just…I wanted to do what best friends normally do.”
And I caught myself, suddenly remembering her words about not calling her my best friend for her sake. I dipped my gaze. “Um… sorry for saying the B word.”
The silence thickened. Too much said, too little understood. I was about to turn, to leave before I made it worse.
Then she spoke, barely above a whisper. “I… don’t mind you staying.”
I froze, but kept my tone measured. “You don’t?”
She shook her head. “I….hate sleeping alone.”
A slow exhale escaped me. “Fine. Sleeping bag it is.”
I moved to the wardrobe, shuffling through it until I saw what I was looking for. I tried to set it down beside her bed, but it wasn’t easy with one hand in a sling.
She got up to help me, carefully making her way around the bed to where I was, when she slipped on the bag case I’d left lying carelessly. My body reacted before my mind did. My hand caught her around the waist, pulling her close without thought. Her warmth pressed against me, and the faint brush of her hands on my chest sent an electric jolt through me.
I swallowed, acutely aware of just how close we were, and how impossible it was to pull away without feeling like I was giving up a chance I shouldn’t.
Her breath hitched slightly. Her eyes darted to mine, then to my lips, then back, conflicted, hesitant.
I didn’t move away. Not yet. Something deep inside me—the chaos I always kept buried—stilled at her nearness. And at the same time, something raw and unrestrained flared. I wanted this closeness, wanted to see how far it could go without breaking, wanted to hold the moment like it was ours alone.
I leaned in, measured and deliberate, our faces so close I could feel the warmth of her breath on my skin. She didn’t pull away. Instead, she shifted slightly onto the tips of her toes, tilting her head in a silent invitation. I pressed closer, until my bottom lip grazed hers, careful, testing, electric.
And then, as if the universe had been holding its breath to punish me for a second of surrender, the door swung open.