Page 93 of The Attraction

HARPER

Yesterday was tough.

After my session with Cherie, I went to a bar and just sat on my own with a glass of scotch. Well, me and my security guard nearby. I just needed time to sit with all the emotions that had been dragged to the surface.

It’s crazy to think that one session with her made me talk about deeper feelings than any therapist did when it all happened. But maybe I just wasn’t ready back then. Or I didn’t have as big a reason as I do now to finally let it go and heal. Which is sad really, that I didn’t want to heal enough for just myself, but now I’m letting some woman beat the hell out of me so I can become the woman I want to be for Forrest.

Sipping on the last of the amber fluid in the glass, I know this will take time, but I feel hopeful.

Holding my phone in my hand, the constant itch to message Forrest is there, but it’s like I’m testing my willpower by not doing it.

Instead, I open up my photo app and start to scroll through my camera roll of all the pictures from last weekend in St. Tropez. I don’t even realize that I’m grinning so hard. So many photos of us girls, shopping, drinking, and laughing until it hurts. Of course, there are ones of the guys playing volleyball, and Forrest might be the absolute hottest guy on the planet, but the other three aren’t far behind him, and I’m not afraid to admit that.

But my favorite photo is the one I snapped at the cooking class of Forrest plating his dish up and laughing with Flynn over the competition on who had cooked the best dish. He is in his happy place and finally starting to let his brother get to know him on a deeper level. Part of me is proud of myself because I did that. Pushing him to let me see the real him, and then encouraging him to share that man with his family and friends.

Putting my phone away, I wonder what he is up to now. Probably in his office working, trying to distract himself from how frustrated he is with me. Same, Forrest, I’m frustrated with me too.

Messaging for my car to be brought to the valet, I stand and walk to the front door of the bar with my shadow man in black behind me, and I just feel soulless. Yet I’ve lived with this hollow feeling all my adult life, but it took a grumpy, arrogant man to make me want more.

Sitting in the back seat on the drive to Flynn and Felisha’s apartment, I’m hoping that I gave them plenty of time on their own tonight. Flynn was in a terrible mood this morning. Not talking, it was more of a grunt, and he couldn’t look me in the eye. I never thought he was like his brother, but this morning, I could have sworn it was Forrest in the kitchen the way he was grumbling to himself.

The closer I get to the apartment, my phone vibrates in my hand, because I can’t seem to put it down at the moment, just in case I miss a special message. But it is just Felisha letting me know that they’re heading to bed and she would see me in the morning. Thank God she didn’t ask how the night with Amanda went because then I didn’t have to lie to her again.

I go through my normal night routine and snuggle into bed, trying to take my mind off what is to come in my sleep. Maybe something shifted today in my session with Cherie. I can only hope. Waking this morning, I knew it had been a hard night in my dreams by how I felt, but neither Felisha nor Flynn said anything about it, so I might have been lucky that it was a minor one or that their bedroom is far enough away that they didn’t hear me crying or calling out.

Cherie set me up with a meditation calming app tonight that she wants me to listen to as I fall asleep. Let’s hope that it works, because I could really do with some solid rest. My body is a little sore, even though I had padding on, and I can still feel all the hits. I didn’t think I would like it, but surprisingly, the physicality of the session helped with my endorphins in a good way, and I felt energized when I left.

The tranquil sound of the ocean in my ears on the mediation recording is calming and helps me to drift off to sleep. But it also brings back memories of spending the night with Forrest in the villa, out on the balcony and dancing under the stars, looking out at the water. As the heaviness of my eyes starts to pull me under, I hope that this beautiful memory is what I dream about tonight, and that maybe Forrest is dreaming about me too. Then a final thought pops into my head as I drift off to sleep…

I wonder what he will send me for breakfast tomorrow and what color ribbon I’ll get.

FORREST

I hate not being able to speak to Harper, it’s killing me.

She would have received today’s breakfast a few hours ago, and today’s is blueberry pancakes with cream cheese and syrup, and of course, a blue ribbon to go with the berries. I want to see her reaction to these deliveries each day. A photo or even a video of her ranting about me sending them would be enough to take the edge off the pain in my chest I feel from missing her.

But I know if I reach out and she decides she wants to see me, then I would have to tell her where I am, and that’s a problem.

She hates lies. And it’s bad enough that we haven’t told her everything about what’s been going on with her stalker, but to find out that I am in Chicago and hopefully confronting him tonight would be like setting off an explosion, and one I’m not sure we would recover from.

I intend to tell her everything as soon as I get home, but it needs to be face to face. Because I need her to understand why I am doing this. For her to give me the chance to lay my heart in her hands and tell her the words she doesn’t want to hear but I’m saying them anyway. I have shown her multiple times that I love her but have never said it in those words. I knew they would make her run, but in the end, it didn’t matter because she did anyway.

Sitting in Ashton’s office this morning and watching these guys work is like being in another world. The technical work and the monitoring they are doing is next level to anything I have seen, and I’m sure if Rem was here, he would be loving every minute of this side of it. There is no fun in it for me, though. I just want tonight over and done with. To confront Chester and do what I came here for. To end this.

“Now, one last time before we leave the building, let’s repeat the plan.” Ashton is dressed in a pair of black jeans, gray long-sleeved shirt, and a black leather jacket over top of his gun strapped to his body. I didn’t ask, but I’m sure he probably has other weapons on him. I don’t need to know, that’s his part of the job. Mine is to be the bait.

There are six other men in the room that work for Ashton who are going to be the protection if needed, and of course, Ghost is on the line and listening in. He did make a comment when we were talking earlier that I’m lucky I’m related to Ashton because he doesn’t take on just any case like this or be convinced to use a civilian as the bait in a trap. To which Ashton just laughed and told him to shut up, that he is always being pulled into stupid jobs for family and friends, including Ghost.

They seem very close and remind me of the three guys back in London. A part of me felt like shit last night, finding out how upset they are with me. But I know we will get past that, just like we have when one of us has fucked up in the name of love.

Ashton starts to go over the plan again, and he has everyone’s undivided attention. There is major respect for this man in this room.

“Forrest will walk from his hotel to Garret’s Bar which is halfway to the function he is about to supposedly attend. Stop there and wait for our instructions once we know Chester is on the move in the city. Depending on where Chester heads, that is the direction we will get Forrest to start walking, putting him in direct line to run into Chester on the street out in the open. We need people to see this and be a witness, besides all of us who will be around him and filming it. Hopefully some dumbass on the street will take their phone out and film it and we can get the police to use that so we don’t have to enter into this at all.” He stops and looks directly at me.

“And you,” he says, pointing his finger at me with conviction. “Don’t do anything stupid or stray from this plan. We are here to keep you safe and alive, but if you screw me over on this, I will beat the shit out of you myself, or worse, still put a call in to Harper and fly her to Chicago so I can watch the fireworks.”

I can’t help but laugh at his threat because it’s exactly what would happen.

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