Chapter 79 TYLER
“We’ve talked about this,” Peter sighed, walking in after me and shutting the door with his heel. “Just tell the girl how you feel. What’s the worst that can happen?”
I whirled on him, already armed with a long, carefully curated list of disasters, but I stopped myself halfway. It wasn’t worth it. He wouldn’t get it. He never did, not when it came to Harper. Not when it came to how deeply tangled she’d become in my head.
“Come on, Tyler,” he pressed. “This is literally your chance, and you just want to throw it away?”
“She’s dating our friend,” I snapped, running a hand through my hair, trying to steady the surge of jealousy clawing through my chest. It felt corrosive, like acid eating through my ribs. “What the hell am I supposed to do?”
“Uh, I don't know—confess!” he shot back without hesitation. “It’s just a confession, Tyler. Whatever she feels afterward isn’t on you. Mark can’t blame you for that. Besides, it’s Harper, for crying out loud. Even a blind man could see from a mile away that she’s into you.”
I shook my head. Not when she thought her boyfriend was the ‘sweetest.’
The word echoed in my skull like a bad joke. How the hell was I supposed to compete with Mark? Mark, who was patient, stable, emotionally available. Everything I wasn’t. Everything I didn’t know how to be. I wasn’t even sure I was capable of showing up for myself half the time, much less for her. The idea of being good enough for Harper felt like reaching for something that would crumble the moment I touched it.
“Fine,” Peter hissed, clearly losing patience. “If you’re not man enough to tell her, then I will.”
“Stop fucking playing,” I warned, my voice low and edged.
He met my stare head-on, unflinching. “I’m not. Watch me.”
He turned toward the door, but my body reacted before my brain caught up. I crossed the room in two strides, intercepting him, my shoulder blocking his path.
I shot him one last glare, then brushed past him without another word and headed out into the hallway.
My head was in chaos. Conversations replayed on loop. The almost-kiss from the night before. Harper’s voice at breakfast. Mark’s name falling so easily from her lips.
Jealousy flared hot and blinding, pushing me forward even as every rational thought screamed at me to stop. I rounded the corner and nearly collided with her.
Before she could react, instinct took over. I caught her wrist and pulled her into the nearest guest room, closing the door behind us with a sharp click. The look of surprise on her face almost slowed me down, but not enough. My restraint was already hanging by a thread.
“Tell me,” I said quietly, keeping my voice low enough that no one would overhear. “Is Mark really the sweetest?”
She swallowed, and my eyes tracked the movement like it was the only thing in the room.
“Or,” I continued, stepping closer, “did you say that just to piss me off?”
“I… I didn’t mean to offend anyone,” she murmured, her breath warm against my cheek.
My gaze dropped to her lips. The same lips I’d almost kissed the night before. The same lips that haunted me every time I closed my eyes. My hand tightened at her waist as I fought to keep control, to keep myself from crossing a line I might never be able to step back from.
“Then correct yourself,” I said. I leaned in slowly, deliberately, letting my mouth brush her ear as I spoke. “I want you to tell me who really makes you happy. Who you go to bed thinking about. The first person that comes to mind when your eyes flutter open every morning.”
Her breath hitched. I could feel it in the tension that flooded her body.
“Come on,” I whispered. “Don’t be shy.”
She went completely still, like a deer caught in headlights. Her chest rose and fell in uneven breaths, her heartbeat racing, betraying itself in the way her throat bobbed.
“Tyler,” she started.
I didn't let her finish, panic flaring, afraid she was about to end the moment. “You don’t have to say it,” I muttered, my chest tightening painfully. “I get it.”
I could feel her conflict in the way her body stayed rigid, in the tension humming between us. I knew this wasn’t right. I knew I should step back. But the idea of letting go felt worse than the guilt already tearing me apart.
My hand moved slowly, tracing up her spine until it cupped the back of her neck. “Just give me a sign,” I said quietly. “Just one. Something to show me what this could have been.”
I brushed my thumb along her cheek. “If Mark wasn’t in the picture… would you even consider me?”
Her eyes darkened, shimmering like she was fighting something far too big to name. Tears pooled, threatening to spill as a slight shiver ran through her.
“Tyler… please.”
A tear slipped free. And that was all it took—that was my breaking point.
My fingers pressed gently at her neck, pulling her closer as my lips found hers. Before I could even register the sensation, before I could decide if this was the biggest mistake of my life, she turned her head away, eyes squeezed shut.
The rejection hit like a physical blow.
It was as if something vital inside me went dark. Like the flame keeping me upright had been snuffed out in one swift motion. A hollow ache opened in my chest, so wide I knew it would never fully close again.
A sob tore loose before I could stop it. I’d made her cry.
I let her go immediately, my hand falling back uselessly to my side. “I… I shouldn’t have,” I said hoarsely. “I didn’t mean to—”
She didn’t wait for me to finish. She rushed past me, yanking the door open and slamming it shut behind her.
I stood there, frozen, staring at nothing as the sound echoed through the room. Her turning away replayed again and again in my mind, relentless and merciless. I didn’t even notice the door open again.
A hand landed on my uninjured shoulder. “Tyler,” dad said gently.
“I’m fine,” I replied automatically, forcing myself to straighten.
“I don’t think you are,” he said quietly. “Harper just ran down the stairs crying. If you want to talk—”
“It’s just teenage stuff,” I cut in, sharper than I meant to. “Nothing serious.”
He studied me for a long moment. “Maybe. Or maybe it’s just two people trying to understand their feelings.”
I laughed bitterly. “Trust me. It’s nothing.”
He shook his head slightly. “A girl only leaves a friend’s house in tears for two reasons. One, something I know my son would never do. And two… feelings she’s not ready to admit.”
“Yeah,” I muttered. “Well, it’s a good thing I’m already over mine.”
“Tyler—”
“No, Dad,” I snapped. “You’ve got it wrong. We’re just friends. That’s all we’ll ever be.”
My fist clenched, every muscle aching with restraint. The image of her turning away flashed through my mind, and I lost control. I swept everything off the vanity in one swift motion, the crash loud and final.
“I’m fine,” I breathed, forcing air into my lungs.
I turned back to him, pasting on a smile I didn’t feel. His expression was neutral, thankfully. I wouldn’t have survived his pity.
Holding his gaze, I repeated it again, softer this time. More for myself than anyone else.
“I’m fine.”