Chapter 81 HARPER
“H-Harper?” Racquel sputtered, her eyes widening as if she had just seen a ghost. “What the hell are you doing here?”
For half a second, I just stared at her. At the flushed cheeks, the slightly smudged mascara, the unmistakable look of someone who had been interrupted mid something she shouldn’t have been doing. A thousand thoughts collided in my head at once, messy and venomous, most of them curse words.
I pushed the door open wider and stepped fully inside, forcing myself to stand tall instead of reacting on instinct. The air felt thick, warm, tight with tension, making my skin prickle.
“I live here,” I said coolly, my gaze never leaving her face. “So I should be the one asking you that.”
Sam moved quickly, stepping between us before things could escalate. He lifted one hand in a placating gesture, like he was trying to calm a wild animal.
“Okay. Okay. Ladies,” he said, voice rushed. “I can explain.”
He turned to me, pressing his palms together like he was praying for mercy. “I swear, this is not what it looks like.”
“If you’re thinking we were fucking,” Racquel cut in bluntly, completely unapologetic, “then yes. Definitely.”
Sam groaned. “Racquel, seriously?”
She ignored him and focused on me instead, lips curling into something smug. “And if I had known this was the cousin you were talking about, I would never have agreed to date you in the first place.”
“Dating?” My eyebrows shot up. I let out a short, humorless laugh. “You’re kidding me.”
I turned fully to Sam then, disbelief crawling up my spine. “Out of every girl in Minnesota, it had to be the one person who’s been against me since day one?”
“In my defense,” Sam started. I raised my hand, cutting him off before he could finish. My patience was already hanging by a thread.
“You know what?” I said, shaking my head. “I honestly do not care. Do you. Date whoever the hell you want. Just make sure you’re not doing it in my parents’ room or on my bed.”
“Oh, don’t give us ideas, Harper,” Racquel drawled lazily.
I narrowed my eyes at her, my jaw tightening. Sam shot her a warning glare, but she only rolled her eyes and sauntered past me into the kitchen like she owned the place.
“I’m really sorry about this,” Sam said quietly. “I didn’t know you two had bad history.”
But I was already walking away.
“Just keep her away from me,” I said over my shoulder. “Do that, and we’re good.”
“Sure,” he called after me.
I shut my bedroom door firmly behind me and leaned against it, pressing my palms to my temples. My head throbbed as I tried to scrub the image of Sam and Racquel together from my mind. I already had enough chaos swirling in my life. I didn’t need this added to the pile.
Reaching for the hem of my shirt to strip and head for the shower, I paused. The scent hit me first. Clean. Familiar. Faintly masculine. Faintly Tyler.
My chest tightened when I realized I was still wearing his clothes. The fabric felt warmer now, like it had absorbed something from him. For a dangerous moment, I let myself imagine him here. Standing in my room. Talking to me the way he had last night. Touching me the way he almost had.
I shut that thought down hard as a knock sounded on my door.
“Yeah?” I called, not moving.
“Uh, quick question,” Sam’s muffled voice came through. “Do you already have plans for Christmas Eve?”
I yanked the door open, leveling him with a look. “Why?”
He straightened, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Well, since your parents aren’t home, I figured I should step up. You know, family duty and all. Plus, Aunt Rachel would probably love pictures of how the night went.”
I rolled my eyes. “If Mom wanted to see me enjoying Christmas, she wouldn’t be away in another country for a month. But whatever. I already have plans.”
“Cool,” he said, relief clear in his voice. Then, hesitating, he added, “Would you mind if Racquel stayed the night?”
My teeth clenched.
After everything she had done to me at school, after all the whispered rumors and calculated cruelty, now she wanted access to my home too. Was this some sort of plan to get me back for her suspension?
“I won’t be here,” I said flatly. “So as long as she stays away from my space, I don’t care.”
“You’re the best, couz,” he said, grinning as he ruffled my hair.
I made a face, but he was already walking away.
If things had been different, if he had been this version of himself back then, maybe I would have wanted to spend the evening with him. But that universe didn’t exist.
I locked my door and grabbed my phone, texting Mark that I was ready. Anything was better than staying under the same roof as Racquel.
The shower helped. The hot water beat against my shoulders, loosening the tight coil in my chest and dulling the echo of everything that had happened from last night into this morning. Steam filled the bathroom, carrying away the lingering scent of Tyler’s clothes until there was nothing left but a faint memory, easy to ignore if I didn’t think too hard about it.
When I stepped out, a towel wrapped around me, I stood in front of my closet longer than necessary. This wasn’t just about clothes. It was about how I wanted to be seen. Festive, but not desperate. Effortless, but intentional. Girlfriend, without trying too hard to prove it.
I settled on a black, pleated plaid mini skirt and paired it with a plain white round-neck sweater my mom had bought me last Christmas. I tucked the front of the sweater in, letting the back fall loose, casual in a way that still felt put together. I hesitated over my shoes, hovering between sneakers and boots, then reached for the knee-length black boots. If I was going to play the part, I might as well commit.
I checked my reflection once more, fixing my hair, touching up my makeup, making sure I looked like someone who belonged there, not someone who’d been dragged along out of obligation.
By the time my phone buzzed again, I was slipping on my boots, my heart beating faster than it should have for a dinner invite.
I opened the door just as Mark raised his hand to knock.
“Hey,” I said softly.
He smiled, in that easy newfound confidence of his, and pulled me into a hug, his hands settling at my waist.
“Hey, baby. I missed you,” he murmured, drawing me closer as he pressed slow kisses along the side of my neck. A laugh slipped out of me before I could stop it.
I leaned up to kiss his cheek, then reached to wipe the faint smudge of lipstick from his skin, but he caught my wrist gently.
“Don’t,” he said, grinning. “Let them see it. Let them know I’m taken.”
I chuckled. “Your entire family is going to be there.”
“Even better,” he replied. “I want them to know how lucky I am.”
Lucky. The word lodged in my chest, a small pang reminding me of everything I was leaving behind. I brushed aside the thought.
As we walked toward his car, his hand slipped naturally into mine, fingers lacing with mine like they belonged there. I squeezed back, forcing myself to focus on the present. On him. On the evening ahead.
No more Tyler. No more distractions. Tonight, I would focus on Mark, on us, and on making this moment count—even if my heart was still stuck on someone else.