JOSIE
Where Harley’s arm drapes over my stomach is sticky with sweat, but I don’t want to move just yet. His soft breathing fills the room. I stare at his smooth skin and dark hair, such a beautiful contrast over the white sheets.
I trace my fingertip over the tattoos inked over his skin, and when he stirs, I pull my hand back immediately.
He peers around for a moment, taking in his surroundings. When his eyes, so painfully blue and bright in the morning light, fix on me, I hold my breath. A lazy smile stretches across his face.
“It wasn’t a dream,” he whispers.
“It wasn’t a dream.”
He rolls onto his back, the sheet slipping low. I stare at this stomach, the tight muscles, the smooth skin. He brings his hand to his hair, and it sinks into it.
“I need to shower.”
“Me too,” he replies casually.
I roll my lips into my mouth. “Are you going to be here when I get out?”
“Do you want me to be?”
“No,” I lie.
“I guess not, then.”
We both say nothing for a moment. His hand inches closer to me and our fingers graze.
The vibration of my phone startles us both and I’m filled with dread, thinking it might be Elliot. In the chaos that is Harley, I forgot for a little while. About him, his words, the threat.
Nick.
Harley and I stare at the screen. It feels just as it did four years ago. Me, between the two of them. It rings out and a few seconds later, I get a message alerting me he left me a voicemail.
“Hey, Josie. I hope you’re awake. I’m on my way over. I was hoping to take you out for breakfast. See you soon.”
“He’s coming,” I say, yanking my hand away from Harley. “Now.”
Harley watches me, a little warily. “So, I guess that’s you kicking me out?”
“I didn’t realise you intended to stay.”
Harley’s jaws clenches. A muscle spasms in his cheek before he throws the sheets off his legs and stands. He stomps into his shoes and fumbles through the small space, trying to find his shirt. I silently watch, unable to peel my eyes from him.
“Well. I’m going,” he says.
“Okay.”
“That’s it?” He barks, making the sound mixed between a scoff and a laugh. He throws his hands up.
I half-shrug. “Yeah.”
“You’re going out with Nick?” he demands. “For breakfast?”
“Yes.”
“Great.” He yanks his shirt over his head, sending me a withering look, before the door slams shut behind him.
I fling myself back onto my bed and sigh. My fingers trace over my lips. I can still feel the heat of him. His scent is all over me.Shit. I fly around the room, tidying things into place, before I launch into the shower. I’m still in my towel when Nick arrives.