Page 57 of Fool Me

She rolls her lips together. “He passed a short while after.” Her lashes flutter closed again. “I think it’s time you meet your neighbors, City Boy.”

“That fucking joker. I bet he’s known I was right next door this whole time.”

Harlowe’s answering chuckle is deep and raspy. “Probably, and now he’s going to socially ambush you. Drake’s in town, so he’ll probably be there. Jude and my dad usually go too. Mostly, they just sit around gossiping and avoid responsibility for an hour or two.”

“So, that’s something to look forward to—a night’s worth of conversation about a past I’m trying to make people forget.”

“Are you going to bail?” Disappointment bleeds into her tired voice.

I consider it. Other than Harlowe, I don’t have any friends here. When she gets this job, will I still have her?

Tonight’s not the night for deep conversations about the future. She should be relaxing, not stressing because I need a label on our friendship.

“No. I’m not,” I say, sure of my decision.

We pull into her driveway and park alongside the tiny purple cottage. Four walls have never seemed so small and it has little to do with the actual size of her house and more to do with the girl I’m about to spend the night looking after.

“You’re sure you don’t want to go to the hospital?”

“You’ll have to drag me there kicking and screaming.”

“I could call your dad.”

She whips around to glare at me, her face twisting in pain. She opens her mouth to yell at me, but I stop her with a hand on her jaw, my thumb stroking her cheek. “Fuck, hey. I’m sorry. I’m not going to call him.”

“You don’t even have his number.”

I could get it if I wanted to—I’m sure it’s in Echo’s file as an emergency contact.

“Let’s just get you inside to rest.” I drop my hand from her face and unbuckle, turning back to level her with a glare I hope looks stern without being dickish. “Stay there. I’ll come help you.”

She rolls her eyes but waits. When I open her door, her arms are crossed and her seat belt is undone.

“I’m—”

I cut her off. “Fine. I know. But I’m not.” I take a calculated step closer and she widens her legs, letting me in. My hands drop to the top of her thighs, stroking up and down, the move only calming the storm inside me slightly. “Watching you take that rock to your head while I was all the way up there, unable to help—it was terrifying. I’ve never felt that out of control.”

“I find that hard to believe.” Her head drops as she watches the path my hands take over and over. I squeeze lightly and she lifts to find my eyes.

“Never,” I repeat. “I might have been calm on the outside, thanks to my training, but inside it was riotous. You scared the shit out of me. I couldn’t get off that rock fast enough.”

Her slender fingers wrap around mine and I know she can feel my pulse hammering just thinking about it. “I’m okay, promise. I’ve got a headache, but it’s from the cut. And the dizziness was the adrenaline at the moment. I’m fine now—ready to crash from the stress of it, but not because of a head injury.”

“You can’t know that. Not without imaging.”

“I’ve got pretty good intuition.”

I blink, giving her my best “get real” face. “You dated my brother.”

“A minor infraction. It’s not like I planned to marry him. It started as fun . . . and then it very much wasn’t. Besides, you had eighteen good years with him. So, honestly, I should be questioning your judgement because I figured out who he was sooner than you.”

My tongue rolls across my teeth and the hands on her legs shift their grip, thumbs rubbing the inside seams of her cargo pants. “I don’t want to hear about your fun with my brother.”

Harlowe’s knees close around my hips like she wants to hold me there, and my eyes drop to her lips—those goddamn lips. So inviting. So tempting. And when she swallows, leaning forward an inch, I slide my hands up to grip her waist, helping her out of the car and setting her at my feet.

“Come on; in you go.” With one hand still on her waist, I reach for the back door, letting Echo out.

Harlowe turns the key, that stupid keychain mocking me. “Make yourself cozy,” she says, holding her hand out to her living room. “Any regrets?”

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