Page 42 of Off Script
“I can now,” Harper replies, lifting one corner of her lip up into a half-smile. “You don’t know how many scenarios we brainstormed to explain why you wouldn’t tell her more about yourself, but we never considered the possibility that you weren’t being forthcoming about your identity for a good reason.”
“She may have mentioned once or twice that you were afraid I was a stalker or a crazy psycho,” I grin. Harper flinches slightly, confirming the truthfulness in my words. “But being a celebrity isn’t all good, which is why I tried to insulate Carlisle from my world.” I hesitate before voicing my next question. “Do you think she’s okay? About what happened this afternoon, I mean.”
Harper holds out her hand, wiggling it from side-to-side. “Yes and no. I’m not sure what she’s told you about her boss, but he’s beenan inappropriate jerk to her from the start. He’s the owner of the company, so she’s put up with it because she didn’t feel like she had a choice. But after today, I hope she’ll quit. She’s got to, right?” Harper drops her legs to the floor and walks over to a tote bag that’s laying on a bench by the front door, rummaging through it before removing a small notebook. Handing it to me, she says quietly, “When it first started happening, I encouraged Carlisle to keep notes of everything just in case. That’s the whole history of everything her boss put her through.”
I thumb through it, skimming a few entries. My stomach lurches reading what Carlisle endured.
“We’ve got to make her understand that she got lucky today,” Harper implores me. “Something much worse than a forced kiss and some groping could have happened.”
I jerk my head up from the notebook to glare at Harper. “He laid hands on her?” I hiss in disbelief. “What the fuck? You only told me that he harassed her. Propositioned her.” When I spoke to Harper earlier, she didn’t insinuate that anything physical had transpired. The seriousness of the offense ratchets up my blood pressure and my hands tighten into fists. “Touching her goes well beyond harassment.”
Meekly, Harper winces and nods. “Yeah, it was bad. I wasn’t sure how much to tell you earlier. Sorry.”
The quiet creak of a door opening alerts us to Carlisle’s presence, and she walks timidly into the room. I slip the small notebook into my jacket pocket and stand up to greet her. The discomfort in the room is palpable as she lingers at the edge of the room, obviously nervous and unsure.
Harper jumps up and grabs Carlisle’s wrist, leading her to stand in front of me. “Carlisle, allow me to introduce you to Ben. Ben, thisis Carlisle, the awesome and amazing girl who you’ve been talking to over the past few weeks.”
I stare down at Carlisle’s heart-shaped face. Closer to her now, I’m able to decipher details that I missed when she was standing across the room, like the precise shade of her dark blonde lashes that surround her blue eyes, the tiny scar above her upper lip, and the exact location of every freckle sprinkled across her cheeks. Her long blonde hair, no longer sopping wet, is wavy and wild and smells like some exotic flower. I want to run my fingers through it to find out if it feels as soft as it looks.
Breaking our trance, Harper continues, “It seems like my job here is done. I’ll just grab a few things and spend the night at Philip’s. You kids have fun.” Harper’s eyes dart back and forth between Carlisle and me. “Okay, since y’all aren’t saying any words, would you like me to ask Alexa to play some music to fill the silence? I have a few suggestions. MaybePrelude to a KissorLet’s Get It OnorTake My Breath AwayorMake Me Feel My Loveor—”
Without breaking eye contact, Carlisle murmurs with a grin, “Shut up, Harper.”
Hesitantly, Carlisle takes a step toward me as Harper leaves the apartment, and I close the gap between us, wrapping my arms around her. She falls into my embrace, and I plant a soft, comforting kiss on the top of her head.
It’s been a long time, maybe even years, since I last held someone like this. The closeness and the intimacy that our embrace fosters within me are enough to make my cold, dead heart crack and splinter open.
After a minute, Carlisle lifts her face from my chest to meet my gaze. “Thank you. I didn’t know how much I needed to be held and comforted.” Her eyes mist over from the rollercoaster ride her emotions have undergone in the last few hours.
On impulse, I lower my lips to hers, stealing a kiss. It’s just meant to be a brief, comforting peck on the lips. Nothing more, nothing serious.
But when I draw back, breaking our connection, Carlisle twines her arms around my neck and pulls me down, joining our lips again. This time our kiss is anything but brief, as her lush lips, warm and pliable, move under my own. Her soft moan propels me forward as I open my mouth and tease her lips with my tongue. With her chest pressed against mine, her hands meander, running down my shoulders and arms to my waist and back. Even through my clothing, the soft caress of her fingertips sends a shiver down my spine.
Kissing Carlisle is exhilarating and overwhelming in the very best way. After slowly getting to know her over the past weeks, I think we’re both pouring all of our feelings into this one kiss. At least, that’s the only explanation I can come up with as to how our kiss went from zero to sixty in a nanosecond.
Somehow, I find the strength to pull away and gently untangle our bodies. If I don’t stop now, one thing will lead to another and then another. I don’t want to rush anything between us, especially when she’s emotional.
I lean my forehead against hers and run my fingers along the column of her neck. “Hi,” I whisper.
“Hi,” she echoes. She laces my fingers in hers and ushers me to the couch. Taking a seat next to me, she cuddles into my side. More at ease now, she smiles widely, offering me a glimpse of her dimples for the first time.
“You have dimples,” I utter, before I can stop myself.
She nods. “I do. And I’m glad to see that you’re just a normal, thirty-year-old guy with a spotty employment record. What a relief!”
Chuckling sheepishly, I reply, “Sorry about that.”
“I understand why you did it now.” She wrinkles her nose and looks apologetic. “Sorry I gave you so much shit about it.”
“Don’t apologize. You’re assertive. Your sass and strength are part of what made me want to keep talking to you.”
Her eyes cast downward. “Sass I have in spades, but I don’t know about strength.”
“Don’t sell yourself short.” I reach up to tuck a rebellious strand of curls behind her ear and I tug her chin upwards so that she’ll be forced to meet my gaze. “You are strong. Think of all that you’ve gone through in the last few years and you’re still standing.”
“Barely.” The corners of her lips quirk up shyly, but the smile doesn’t quite reach her eyes. She’s doubting herself and it makes me want to hunt down everyone who has ever hurt her previously.
Starting with her fucking boss.
