Page 86 of Secondhand Secrets

“Harlow is my home.” He softened his tone to something less harsh but just as inescapable and matter-of-fact. “I’m one reason the Syndicate is gunning for this place. I’m not leaving these people to fend for themselves.”

An incredulous laugh broke past her lips, and she thrust her hands out to her sides, gesturing to the space around her. “And what am I supposed to do? Just lump having you back in town?”

“You could do that.” He took another step forward, and she jolted away, his brow flexing in a look that hovered between disappointed and perplexed. “You could get used to seeing my face most days, or… there are other options.”

The river’s soft lap against its muddy banks filled the silence from her sudden lack of words. She drew a hard breath, centering her attention on the river’s damp and earthy scents—trying and failing to find a balance between anger, confusion, and some other emotion she just didn’t want to face.

“No. No other options.” Such flat refusal, marred by her husky delivery.

And in his usual way, Chip remained still. “I’m not leaving.”

“Yes, you are.” Her mouth bent into a frown, only for her to bite down on her lower lip, the action likely exposing her lack of resolve.

“And maybe while I’m around, you’ll come to see I’m fully capable of screwing up my life without your help.” A slow smile formed on his lips, forever self-assured even when he wasn’t. “And that I’m not my father, either. He says, ‘Hi’ by the way.”

A cold sensation washed down her arms, and her cheeks fell slack, meanwhile the mention of his father had adrenaline tweaking her pulse. Her fear of history repeating now battled against Bill’s supposed greeting.

“Your dad, what?” Her breathy tone gave sound to her disbelief.

She and Chip were too dissimilar, Chip far too perfect for a now-unapologetically helter-skelter woman like herself.

“We talked, and believe it or not, without fighting for a change.” His eyes softened, and he offered an overly casual shrug. “There are things you don’t know about my parents’ breakup. Things even I didn’t know up until recently. They had other issues besides Harlow and my dad’s lack of career glory. So if you’re scared we’ll make the same mistakes, maybe consider we’re all very different people.”

A small scoff escaped her, and she shook her head. “You think I didn’t consider that?”

His eyes narrowed on her, and he drew out a slow pause, strain apparent over his clenched jaw, as though he fought a wave of hurt and defense. “I have no idea what you considered, Ally. We never really talked this out, did we?”

He raised a brow, daring her to deny his point, but between her running away and then fighting the effects of a concussion, there hadn’t been much time to talk.

Perhaps in a sign he found convincing her more difficult than planned, he scratched behind his ear. his chin tilted to the ground, although his gaze still lifted to hers.

“So, did you ever stop to reflect on the fact that my dad is an adult and responsible for his own mistakes? And so am I?” He now held that all-knowing look of his, the one that always seemed to see right through her. “How about letting me fall on my own sword on this one?”

She shrugged, fully aware she’d been too busy trying not to disappoint him to allow room for him to fail right along with her.

And even though she shrugged, her voice still hitched on her next words. “Maybe because I’d be falling too?”

“Ally—”

“I mean, why put speed signs out if we’re all supposed to just learn from our own mistakes?” She shot out a manic-sounding laugh, the analogy way too astute for her, her comment on falling also way too honest.

He frowned. “Fair point, but no one will die here, and you’re assuming I’ve inherited my dad’s addiction to success. Which, by the way, turns out to be his coping mechanism. Personally, I prefer a slower pace.”

“I can’t ask you to drop your prospects to be with me.”

“Who says I’d be dropping anything?”

“Look around. There’s nothing here for you.”

“There’s you.”

“I don’t want to be your only reason.”

He barked out a laugh. “Jesus, Ally. Don’t I get a say here? If all you can see in me, and all that’s holding you back, is my career potential, then you’re no better than my dad.”

Her lips parted at the comparison between his dad’s beliefs and hers. “Except he made you feel you weren’t enough, but in this case, I’m the one who’s lacking. You deserve someone more worldly. More like you.”

His stare latched on to her, and he gave a small shake of his head, stepping in impossibly close. “I don’t like it when you talk about yourself that way. You’re not guileless or simple minded, you’re not anything but brilliant to me. I see your frustration at the world around you, but maybe that’s just because you do and see things differently, which is another thing I like about you. You’re creative and fun—more fun than I’ve had in a long time—and you’re so many things that I’m not. You’re everything I need, Ally. Do you understand? And despite what you think”—he wrinkled his nose—“I have no desire to date a female version of myself. Gross.”

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