Page 44 of A Brush with Love
“I guess more than anything, trauma to the head and neck can change so much of a person’s life. Whether it’s pain from an impacted tooth, or trauma from a car accident, or even physical abuse—these patients will wear their experience on their faces forever,” she said, her eyes going somewhere far away again. “I won’t be able to take away the pain of their experience, but I can put care and compassion into every suture, work to minimize every scar, allow people to get back to feeling normal.”
Harper stared out the window for so long, Dan assumed she wouldn’t say anything more. But, in a whisper more for herself than for him, she added, “I want to make a difference.”
It was in that moment Dan knew he’d never deserve her, but he wanted to spend every day telling her how much of a difference her existence made.
Silence curled around them and Dan let it linger. He liked their ability to be quiet together. Everything about his reaction to Harper was new and disarming. Like being punched in the gut and grabbed by the throat, forced to stare into something beautiful and terrifying.
Harper gave him a self-conscious look, and he wanted to wrap her in his arms and protect that passionate flame that burned so brightly inside of her. He couldn’t help but reach across the table and place his hand over hers.
Harper looked at their hands and smiled—a beautiful, happy grin that made it hard for him to swallow. Their eyes met for an effervescent second and then her brow furrowed. She gently pulled her hand from his and glanced at her watch.
“I’m sorry, I’m blabbing on and on,” she said, not looking at him. “I should probably get going, though. I still have to study tonight.”
Dan deflated at the looming goodbye, but nodded in agreement, knowing he had to try to cram in some pointless late-night studying too.
“I’ll walk you home,” he said as they stood, and he helped her into her coat.
The walk to her apartment was freezing, the wind whipping their faces and leaving a bone-deep chill.
Harper brought her fingers up to her lips and blew into them a few times for warmth before giving up and shoving them into her coat pockets. Holding the grocery bags in one hand, Dan reached out the other arm and circled it around her shoulders, tucking her into his side.
When they got to her place, Harper untangled herself from his arm and ran up her stoop, jamming her key into the lock withrecord speed. She ushered Dan inside, and they crashed into the foyer, gulping down warmer air.
Her hair was a wild mass of waves from the wind, cheeks bright red from the cold, and Dan resisted the urge to lean forward and kiss the tip of her pink nose.
Tension pumped around them as they defrosted, and questions whirled through Dan’s mind. Would she invite him up? Would they make plans to see each other again? Would he finally be able to kiss her delicious red lips and bring a physical form to the connection he felt for her?
Harper looked at him and audibly swallowed. Her eyes were filled with fear and fire that set his heart hammering.
“Well,” she said, bouncing on her toes. “This was fun.”
Dan chuckled. This was the best day he’d had in months.
“Yeah, fun,” he said, taking a step toward her.
“And thank you, again, for the groceries.” She wouldn’t meet his eyes.
“My pleasure,” he murmured, taking one more step and coming toe-to-toe with her. He set the bags on either side of her feet.
All coldness had left the small space. There was nothing but heat radiating between their bodies, fueled by their rapid, humid breaths. Their chests were rising and falling sharply, creating the whisper of a touch with each inhale.
Dan wanted to close the distance, broach the centimeters that separated their bodies. Touch and grab and hold every inch of her.
The urge was so far beyond lust.
It was the simple, primitive need to feel connected.
Something deep within him recognized a matching piece in Harper. He knew the moment his lips touched hers, that piece would pivot from searching to found.
He lifted his hand and cupped her jaw, rubbing his thumb across her soft skin. He felt her tense for a moment before relaxingand pressing lightly against his palm. He let his fingers trail down her throat and rest on her shoulder as he looked into the bottomless depths of her near-black eyes before closing his. He pushed forward.
Where his lips should have felt the soft lusciousness of hers, there was… nothing.
He blinked open his eyes.
She’d pulled her head back.
Holyfuck. Holyfuck. Holyfuck.
