Page 111 of A Brush with Love
With shaking fingers, Dan buzzed her in. He absolutely did not trust his mind.
He paced the small length of his studio apartment, dragging his hands through his hair. No way. There was no way she was here.
But, sure enough, a minute later, a light tap reverberated against his door, shooting into his apartment and directly into his chest, knocking his heart against his ribs.
He crossed the room, his hands clenched in fists as he stared at the doorknob. It felt like he was moving underwater. He turned the knob, swinging the door open, almost afraid to look.
But there she was.
Harper.
Standing in his doorway.
She was out of breath and sweaty, her hair a riot of waves and her eye makeup slightly smeared at the edges.
She’d never been so beautiful.
His eyes scoured over her, trying to absorb every detail, unable to take all of her in at once.
He re-memorized the angle of her collarbones. The delicate curve of her ears. Every knob in her kneecaps. He devoured everyinch of her because he didn’t believe this was real. But if it was a dream, he wouldn’t let it slip away.
And she stared back, her chest rising and falling with rapid breaths as she looked over him.
Eventually, their eyes met and held, everything else blurring at the edges.
“Hi,” she said at last, a tear slipping down her cheek. “Can I come in?”
Dan nodded, not trusting his voice. He stepped aside, letting her in and shutting the door behind her.
“I like your place,” she said, another tear trailing down her cheek. She tilted her head back and laughed. “Your ceiling is so low evenIcould touch it. Almost.”
A smile tugged at the corner of Dan’s mouth, but he didn’t let it grow.
There was a heavy, awkward silence, and Harper patted her hands against her thighs. “I got into residency,” she said at last.
Dan nodded. “I saw Lizzie’s post. Which program?”
“Dwyer’s Hospital,” she said, her teeth sawing into her bottom lip. “Here,” she added.
The statement pressed like a heavy weight against his lungs. He wasn’t sure what to do with that, what to make of it. And he was terrified of the flicker of happiness it ignited in his heart.
“What are you doing here?” he finally managed to ask, his voice hoarse.
Harper stared at him before taking a deep breath, one that seemed to suck all the air from his own lungs.
“I got your voice mail,” she said.
Dan nodded. The voice mail. He wanted to regret it. He wished he could be mad at himself for putting it out there. But he couldn’t. Harper was loved. He wanted her to know that.
“And there are a few thingsyouneed to know,” she said, stepping forward. Her hands reached for him, but she hesitated, herfingers hovering an inch away from his. Dan closed the distance, engulfing her hands in his palms. Harper let out a sigh, and Dan couldn’t ignore the soothing feel of her skin against his. He was hungry for it.
Harper closed her eyes for a minute, chewing on her bottom lip, before her eyes flashed open, connecting with his, more present than he’d ever seen them.
“I’m sorry,” she said, licking her lips. “There aren’t enough words in the world for me to explain how sorry I am. I need you to know that, first and foremost.”
“I’m sorry too, Harper,” Dan said, needing to get the words out. “I’m sorry for everything I said. For telling your secrets. I didn’t mean—”
She pressed a finger to his lips, silencing him. “I know,” she said. “I know.”
