It’s sunny outside, for once, with no hint of moisture in the air.
I breathe deeply, letting the crispness fill my lungs. Rather than climb into my car, I shove my hands into my pockets and start walking along the sidewalk toward campus. It snowed yesterday, a few inches that have stuck around so far. The small piles on either side of the road are already gray and splattered with mud, but the rest is pristine.
It takes me ten minutes to reach the football stadium.
I spot Harlow’s red hair after nine. She’s by the gate that leads onto the running track, doing one of the stretching exercises I showed her.
“Did you already do your butt kicks?”
Harlow spins to face me, a smile spreading across her lips that I automatically match.
“Hey,” she breathes.
“Hey.”
We grin at each other like two fools.
“Congrats,” Harlow tells me. “I saw you won again.”
“Yeah, thanks. Every game, it starts to feel more unlikely.”
All streaks come to an end. Most things do.
Like Harlow’s smile. It slips off her face slowly, the longer we stare at each other.
“So…did you do your butt kicks?” I ask again.
“Why?”
I smirk. “Because I wanted to watch.”
She rolls her eyes, then steps closer. Tugs my jacket to the side and then pulls my shirt up.
“Jesus, Hayes! We’re in public!”
She ignores my mock outrage, studying the three-inch bruise spread across my ribs that’s turned to an angry shade of purple. Her fingers trace it lightly, and I clench my jaw to keep from wincing.
“You played on Saturday with this?”
I nod. “We’ve got another game tomorrow. It’ll be better by then.”
Harlow drops my shirt, but she doesn’t step away. “Even superheroes don’t heal that fast, Hart.”
“Aw, are you calling me a superhero?”
“What are your superpowers?”
“Well, you’ve told me I have a magical dick.”
She blushes. “I have never, ever said that.”
I shrug. “It’s been strongly implied.”
Harlow breathes a laugh, shaking her head. “Has Robby seen that?” she asks, nodding toward my bruise.
“It’s a rough sport, even when we’re practicing.”
“It shouldn’t be that rough, when you’re practicing.” She purses her lips, like she’s considering telling Sampson off herself. It’s adorable.
Robby has apologized to me a half-dozen times since it happened. He got tripped up, knocked me into the boards when I wasn’t expecting it.
Jamison knocked out one of Collins’s teeth last week.
Shit happens.
“I’m fine, Hayes. You weren’t here to snuggle with, so I made do with a bag of peas.”
Her eyes widen, and I wonder if maybe I’m not supposed to mention the way we always spoon after sex now. Hell if I know what the rules of this arrangement are. We don’t have rules, and that’s probably part of the problem.
“Is snuggling code for something else?”
“Would I have turned down a blowjob as a distraction? No. Bad timing you were gone this weekend.”
“You could have still gotten one.”
I stiffen as soon as she says the words. In addition to not having rules, I have no idea if we’re exclusive.
I haven’t been with anyone else since we started hooking up, and I don’t think that Harlow has either. But again, I don’t know. She’s never asked me and I’ve never asked her. It’s one of several things that floats ambiguous between us, like how she just spent a happy family weekend at my father’s house.
“Well, I didn’t.” I stuff my hands into my pockets. “How was your weekend?”
She looks away. “It was, um, good.”
Rather than accept that non-answer, I press. “What did you do?”
“Landon’s gig was on Friday night. We went to that, then came home for dinner. A few of Landon’s friends came over to watch a movie. Then Allison and I went to brunch and to get our nails done.”
Harlow flashes her pink fingers at me, and since they’re hers and I haven’t had sex in almost a week, I immediately picture them wrapped around my cock.
“Hugh, uh, barbecued and we played Monopoly. Then on Saturday, we just lounged around. I left around lunchtime.”
It’s bizarre, hearing her use their names so casually. Imagining the happy, wholesome scene she’s describing of playing boardgames and eating dinner together.
Strange that takes place without me, when I should be a part of it. I’ve had years to come to terms with that, though.
The weirdest aspect now is that Harlow—my Harlow—is a part of it.
“Sounds fun.”
It’s a struggle, keeping the sarcasm out of my voice. But I manage to.
“How was your weekend? Aside from the game, I mean.”
“It was fine.” I ate leftover pizza for breakfast, caught up on homework, and iced my bruise. More like super boring. “We should start running. I’ve got practice soon.”
“Yeah. Sure.”
She follows me onto the running track, which has been cleared of snow.
We start jogging in silence.
“What are you doing for Thanksgiving?” Harlow asks.
“Why? Do you want to carpool?”
She’s silent.
I exhale. “Sorry. My mom has to work in the afternoon, so we’re planning on brunch before she has to go into the hospital.”
“What does she do, at the hospital?”
“She started as a nurse, then put herself through med school. She’s an ER doctor now.”
“Wow. Good for her.”
I nod, then add, “She’s coming to my game tomorrow.”
“Has she been to one this season?”
I shake my head. “Not yet. She’s busy.”
“I wasn’t judging, Conor,” she says softly.
We run in silence for a couple of laps. I try to focus on rhythmic steps, instead of the redhead next to me. I’m happy she’s back. But part of me is on edge. Waiting. Wondering if a weekend away changed her feelings about…whatever this is. Changed her feelings toward me.
“What do you think the odds are of me making it to the finish line next summer?” Harlow asks. She’s breathing more heavily, I notice, so I slow my pace a little. “I was planning to go for a run this weekend, but then I…didn’t.”
“Why didn’t you go? Do the Garrisons not know about the marathon?”
“They know. I was just being lazy.” There’s a pause, then, “They’re running it.”
“All of them? The whole thing?”
“Uh-huh. They’re raising money by the mile.”
I absorb that for a few seconds. “Have you been back home? Since…”
“I’ve been back to Canada. Not to the same town where I grew up. But the plan has always been to go back there after graduation, so…I’ll have to face it sometime, right?”
“I mean, no. You could never go back.” Some selfish part of me is fully on board with her remaining here, even if I have no idea where I’ll be after graduation.
She laughs. “Yeah. True. I think…I’ve always been worried to make new memories in the same places, if that makes any sense? Being back there…going to the same spots and doing the same things, except without them, it feels like it could override what I remember. But I also want to do those things to remember my parents. Does that make any sense?”
“It makes a lot of sense. But I don’t think you’ll forget anything. And if I had to guess, I don’t think your parents would want you to stay away forever.”
She nods. “It’s the same reason I haven’t gone back to Ireland. We used to visit there a lot to see my dad’s family. My grandparents are gone, but I still have two aunts who live just outside of Dublin. They keep inviting me, and I always make excuses.”
“What’s it like there? I’ve never been out of the country.”
Harlow looks surprised. “Never?”
I shake my head.
“It’s beautiful. Green grass as far as you can see. Big cliffs overlooking the water. Villages with pie shops and apothecaries. Cobblestone streets.” She smiles. “I used to pretend to talk with an Irish accent after every visit. Drove my parents crazy.”
“You should go back, Harlow.”
“Yeah.” She nods. “I’m considering it, this summer. The, uh, Garrisons would always come stay with my family for a week in the summer. They’ve rented a place about an hour away from where I grew up, the last several years. Kept the tradition going, in a slightly different way. They’ve only missed one year since Landon was born, and it was a while ago. I don’t want to be the one to miss it, so once those dates are finalized, I’ll make other plans.”
She’s becoming more and more comfortable mentioning them to me, I’ve noticed.
“They didn’t go that year because Allison found out Hugh had screwed my mom again, Harlow.”
I don’t look at her. I keep my gaze forward.
There’s a long pause. Finally, “I…I didn’t know.”
“I know you didn’t.”
I’m well aware of how Harlow sees my father. In her eyes, he’s the hero who opened up his home to his wife’s best friend’s orphaned daughter. He’s been a part of her support system, and I don’t resent her for it. I’m glad she had him—them.
But in my life, he’s the villain. He’s the asshole who blew up my mom’s life, then my life, then my mom’s again. My feelings for him have always been clear cut. Black and white.
And selfishly, I want Harlow to see that. Who knows what Landon has told her about me. If my father even mentions me.
I blurted out that ugly truth because I want her to see my side of things.
I’ve never felt the need to justify my behavior regarding Hugh to anyone. But I want Harlow to get why I can’t forgive him.
“How old were you?” she asks.
“Seven.”
“How did you find out?”
“Eavesdropped on my mom talking to a friend.”
“And Hugh told Allison?”
I shrug. “No idea. He told my mom he was having problems with Allison. That he regretted not standing by her. Not choosing us. Then, he changed his mind again. Once a cheater and liar, always a cheater and liar, right? My mom never really got over it. Either time.”
“Conor…” Harlow has no idea what to say. I don’t blame her.
“You don’t have to say anything, Harlow. It was a long time ago. Just not as long as most people think. I have my reasons, okay? I’m not a jerk about them—him—for no reason.”
“I know that,” she says softly.
We run in silence for a lap.
“I don’t think Landon knows.”
“I won’t say anything,” she tells me.
“You lie to your bestie?” The question comes out more mocking than I mean it to.
“You can be friends with someone and not agree with everything they do.”
“True. Aidan only does laundry once a month.”
Harlow laughs, lightening the heavy moment. The sound has a similar effect to the sun beaming down. “That’s disgusting.”
“I know. He and Hunter got into a whole argument about it.”
She laughs again.
Harlow doesn’t complain when I push the pace and add an extra mile to what we ran last time, but she does bend over as soon as we reach the finish line for the final time.
“Hold your arms up,” I instruct. “It opens up your lungs.”
She keeps heaving with her hands on her knees, so I step forward and do it for her. Surprised green eyes meet mine. She wasn’t expecting me to touch her. Unless we’re on a bed, or some other flat surface, I usually don’t.
“I don’t want there to be sides, Conor. But…don’t assume I’m on theirs.”
I nod. “You can mention him—them—to me all you want, Harlow. I get they’re a part of your life. I’m not going to walk away when you do. But I’m never going to forgive him. If you think that’ll change…it won’t.”
She nods, and I let her hands drop. Check the time on my phone.
“I gotta get to practice.”
“Will I see you later?”
My dick twitches at the invitation. “Probably not. I’ve got five hours of film to watch tonight.”
Harlow nods. “Okay.”
Before I can talk myself out of it, I step forward and kiss her. She reacts instantly, pushing her hands in my hair and scraping her nails against my scalp.
I don’t pull back until my phone starts buzzing in my pocket. I pull it out, see it’s Aidan calling, and then answer.
“What?”
“Where are you?” he asks.
“I’m heading to practice.”
“Can you pick me up? The truck won’t start.”
“The fire engine slash eyesore, you mean?”
Aidan sighs, no trace of his usual good humor in the sound. “I’ll call Hunter.”
“Jesus, Phillips. I’ll be there, okay? Is everything all right?”
“Yeah. Just having a shitty day. I’ll see you soon.”
I hang up, then glance at Harlow. “I’ve gotta go.”
“Okay.” She’s scuffing her sneaker against the track, hugging her middle.
I kiss her one last time, then head for my car.
