Harper's Rules 1 & 2

BOOK 2 - Chapter 1: Jake

"Thanks..." Harper sat up and pressed her lips lightly against mine.

Before she pulled back, I grasped my hand around her wrist. Her eyes widened, probably from how tightly I clutched onto her. My heart pounded painfully hard in my chest, like I nearly gave myself a heart attack with the insane thought that I was in love with her.

Yet, my hand clung tightly to her like a rope tossed to a drowning man. My eyes roamed over her face like the answers to the thoughts that clashed in my mind were somehow written in those pink cheeks, light blue eyes, darker blonde eyebrows and lashes, and smattering of adorable light freckles.

Oh fuck.

I'm in love with Harper?

My throat squeezed inward, tension crunched my stomach like I braced for a punch, and Harper's lips parted as I squeezed her wrist tighter.

No, I'm not. Can't be. Am I?

"Jake?" A soft warmth spread over my left cheek from where she placed her other hand's palm. A thunderous pulse pounded in my ears as my eyes memorized every slightly darker blue striation in her light-colored eyes. The light glinted off them like -

Fuck, I am.

No, just post sex bliss. Clear your head, Jake. The one above your shoulders.

I was vaguely aware of the fact I'd come more than thirty minutes ago, and sat tired but entirely clear-headed after the blowjob that the girl I -

It's fine. I'll be fine. Play it cool.

Just... don't tell her Jake. She'll freak out.

Perspiration, fueled by an entirely different reason, broke out on my forehead and I drew in a shaky breath. Harper's murmured words barely registered in my brain as a sense of lockdown welled up and I swore all my internal functions screeched to a halt.

With a frown, she repeated herself, louder with a yank of her hand against my grip, "I don't know what the fuck freak-out moment you're having right now, so I'll just -"

"No," I squeaked out in a high, strained voice that sounded like my balls were in a vice.

Because fuck, they are. Harper's.

No, they're not. They're attached, empty, and refilling like normal.

Everything's cool, Jake. Except how she's looking at me like I'm a total psycho.

A deep crease line etched itself down the center of Harper's forehead, which drew her blonde eyebrows together. I couldn't read the emotion in her eyes past an obvious, 'The fuck is wrong with you?' vibe.

I deserve that.

And she deserves to know how I feel.

No! Make something up.

I squeezed my eyes tightly shut and exhaled against the pulse that thrummed in my veins. My brain dizzied, rational thoughts disintegrated, and heat rose in my palms until they also broke out in sweat.

Pretend you're sick. She'll respect real vomit more than vomited feelings.

"Stay," I blurted out in a weakass, near tortured voice because fuck, I sure felt internally tortured. My eyes flipped open and found hers stared at me like I'd suggested we got matching couple's tattoos, her nose scrunched up and lips wrenched sideways. "I just... don't... Can you... please, uhh, stay?"

"Did you fry your last brain cell when you came? Figured I was doing you a favor with no-strings exits," she muttered and shifted her eyes to the clock on my dresser. "I don't have any of my shit for class tomorrow and need a shower, so -"