Grey’s [POV]
James is an idiot.
I knew, out of all of us, that he would have the least amount of self-control around her, but I didn’t expect it to happen that fast.
It’s only going to scare her away.
I’m not jealous. I’m just disappointed.
As soon as I entered then this evening, I could smell her on him.
Her scent is muted soft and honeyed, like the lilacs in the garden but it’s there all the same.
Harper carries herself with caution, and I don’t blame her.
She doesn’t know us.
I haven’t been the kindest to her, either. Only Beau has the charm and easy friendliness that everyone picks up on.
It’s impossible not to adore him, but with me…
She doesn’t understand the pain in my eyes, but I know she sees it.
I know she feels the misdirected fury and sees the way I’m on edge.
I’ve made myself into stone, hardened every part of myself, and now she’s chipping at the edges.
“Damn it,” I mutter, pinching the bridge of my nose.
It’s supposed to release stress, but so far, it hasn’t happened.
And my entire body has been nothing but tense since she arrived.
I have so many questions that I’m dying to ask her.
But I keep them locked inside, for fear of pushing her away.
James doesn’t share those same qualms.
He’ll push her boundaries until his dying day.
So, I nurse a glass of scotch as I sit in the living room of the Inn, the fireplace crackling as I attempt to grade papers.
I’ve thrown myself into my work for months, but suddenly I can’t focus on any words my undergraduates have typed.
It’s all a blur, becauseHarperlingers in my mind, her presence haunting me.
She’s a ghost. A beautiful, scarred ghost, that sinks into the cracks of my hardened heart, slowly working down to my core.
Fuck.
Charlotte sits on the loveseat opposite me, giving me a sad smile. “She’s sick,” she whispers.
I frown and put down my glass. “What?”
“Harper hasn’t been feeling well since she’s been here. She has a headache that won’t let up. She won’t tell me much about it, but I have a feeling the man that called here”
“Michael,” I snarl.
“I have a feeling he was giving the medications that she didn’t know about.” She looks at me pointedly, and it clicks in my mind.
I shake my head. “No,” I say. “What thefuck.”
“I think so,” she whispers. “And now I don’t know what to do. Do we just let her continue to be sick, or do I give her”
Harper appears in the entryway, and Charlotte turns to her, plastering a smile on her face.
“Good evening, Harper! How are you?”
I can tell she doesn’t feel well, even if she hides it. She graces us with a small smile, and my heart beats rapidly in my chest.
Her beauty is disarming.
The papers in my lap are all but forgotten as she glances my way, her light brown eyes wide with uncertainty.
Fuck. The last time she saw me, I was an asshole, storming out of her bedroom without saying goodnight.
“I’m good, Charlotte. But if I’m interrupting”
“Not at all,” I interject. “Have you eaten?”
It comes out harsher than I’d like, and Charlotte gives me a pointed look.
Harper lifts her chin, her eyes narrowed. “No. But I’m fine.”
“Not. You need to eat.”
Charlotteglaresat me, her face incredulous. “Grey,” she hisses under her breath, low enough that Harper doesn’t hear.
But I can tell she doesn’t feel well. Her light skin is paler than normal, and dark circles of exhaustion surround her eyes.
“I don’t need to do anything,” Harper says quietly. “Like I said yesterday, I’m very tired of being told what to do.”
The stone in my chest cracks more.
Goddamnit.
I’m an asshole.
So, I try again.
“I’ve heard you’re not feeling the best. A meal will do you good.”
She blinks at me, not convinced.
“And…” I try to find the right words, with Charlotte still staring at me pointedly. “I haven’t eaten, either. I would like it if you joined me.”
Both women raise an eyebrow.
“Please,” I mutter under my breath.
Charlotte breaks out into a grin, while Harper eyes me quizzically behind her.
Dear God, Harper, don’t make me beg.
We’re in a staring contest, but it’s Harper who breaks first.
“I am pretty hungry,” she admits.
Victory.
“We have soup from lunch,” Charlotte says, standing up. “I can bring some. Also, the bread is almost out of the oven.”
“Soup’s not going to be enough,” I say sharply to Charlotte, as Harper frowns. “She’s going to need more food than that.”
Harper’s mouth falls open. “You know it’s not your job to take care of me, right?”
My jaw ticks and I fight everything in me not to rage.
My inner Alpha roars, ready to explode.
“It’s fine, Harper. I’ll be back soon.” Charlotte leaves the room, and Harper and I are alone.
She’s beautiful when she’s angry.
I wonder if she knows I can smell it.
“Why are you such a dick?” she asks softly, as she sits on the loveseat opposite me.
I almost choke. “Excuse me?”
“You’re just…perpetually angry,” she murmurs. “It’s like you can’t stand to be around me. Even the other night, in my room. You looked like it tortured you to be in there.”
I scoff.
Well, if that isn’t the truth.
“It did,” I agree, taking a sip of my drink. “But not in the way you think.”
“Okay,” she says slowly. “Do you want to elaborate on that?”
“No.”
She blinks, unamused.
“And you’re incorrect, by the way,” I add.
“About what?” She eyes the bottle of scotch that sits on the side table longingly, and I’m offering her my glass before I can second guess it.
Never mind the fact that it’s a stupid idea for her to drink right now.
I just want to give her anything she desires.
Our fingers brush as I pass her the glass, and my cock twitches in my trousers.
Her skin is overheated, her cheeks rosy, and her face illuminated beautifully in the fireplace’s glow.
I stare at her as she takes a sip, her mouth where mine was, and my brain short-circuits.
She says something, but all I can do is inhale her honey, scotch, and Harper.
My palm twitches again, and it takes all my self-control to not pull her into my lap.
“Grey? About what?”
I clear my throat. “What was that?”
“You said I was incorrect,” she repeats, her eyebrows raised. “What was I incorrect about?”
Ah. Back to my embarrassing confession.
“I can’t stand to not be around you,” I admit to her, and her mouth falls open.
“That doesn’t make any sense,” she counters. “You don’t know me. And…I’m a Beta.”
The rage is back.
I do my best to conceal it and clear my throat before I speak.
“Life doesn’t make sense,” I say quietly, my eyes never leaving hers. She hands me the drink back, and our fingers brush again.
How fucking embarrassing that my cock is at full attention.
Thankfully, the suit trousers cover it, and she’s none the wiser. “Don’t I know it,” she says wistfully. “My life hasn’t made sense in a while.”
“I can imagine,” I say. I have so many questions for her.
But I know she won’t answer them.
Thanks to me, she thinks I can’t stand her.
“What were you doing before I came in?” she asks, pointing to the papers on the small table next to me.
“Grading papers,” I sigh, and she raises an eyebrow. “I’m an English professor at Aurora College.”
“Really? That makes sense then,” she chides, smirking.
And fuck if that doesn’t make me want to bite those pretty lips.
“Why?”
“Stuffy, grumpy, bossy professor” she waves her hand. “You dress like one, too.”
I look down at my tailored dark grey suit. “Do you have a problem with my outfit, Harper?”
My voice is low, and her cheeks flush as I ask, her eyes raking up and down my form.
My inner Alpha rumbles with pride.
“No,” she murmurs. There’s a moment of silence, and I could swear I smell the slightest hint of arousal. Her pupils dilate, and…
Fuck.
Keep it together, Grey.
I’m not James. I can’t just attack her like a madman.
Still, I can’t help but toy with her.
“I’m glad you like it,” I smirk.
Her face is bright red, and it’s a cross between adorable and sexy.
I press on.
“And you’re right, I am bossy,” I add. “I enjoy giving orders.”
She shivers.
Little does she know how bossy I can be.
I would love to show her.
She maintains eye contact, exhaling slowly as my words have their desired effect.
And that scent…
“Do you know how good you smell?” I ask her quietly, unable to hold my tongue any longer.
But before she can answer, Charlotte enters with trays of food, and the moment we shared dissipates.