(Extended Blurb Inside!)
Strap on your seatbelts as you ride along this riveting romance through the eyes of Ronnie and Harper, our two heroines that are determined to defy the odds thrown at them.
One possessive, bold pilot. One sweet, flirty heir...
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RONNIE
This was most definitely not a movie.
We landed on the bed in real time, as a pile of knees, elbows, and chins. I don't know what hit what, but it hurt. Everywhere.
I rolled off of a groaning Harper who was clutching her ribs while I cradled my stinging jaw. Getting up off the bed and standing back on my two feet, I stilled as the room spinned in my vision.
"Woah..." I rubbed my eyes then looked back down to see her catching Z's on my comforter. Alarmed, I started waking her up. "Hey, hey. No, Harper, you can't sleep yet."
I pulled her up by the arms into a sitting position and lightly shook her shoulders. Her eyes fluttered open. "Whaaat?", she whispered.
Watching Harper looking around her undoubtedly unfamiliar surroundings, my brain dug up and resurfaced a hazy memory from weeks ago. I recalled bits and pieces of a specific conversation.
"You could tell people to fuck off when you want them to fuck off."
"But that's kinda harder to do when you're drunk and unconscious though."
"Got drunk..." She's drunk right now.
"And a friend offered to carpool home..." I offered to take her home.
"I almost passed out in the car, then woke up the next morning at his place instead." She's at my place right now, instead of at her own.
I felt sick, and not only because of the alcohol in my veins. What am I doing? I'm out of my depth here. Shoving the heel of my palm into my eye, I tried to clear my blurry eyesight— I made it worse but okay.
"Recollection of how that happened, none."
Not again. Not if I could fucking help it. I looked around my room, trying to find something to help me with the stupid plan my brain just came up with.
"There, that's right. Th-that'll do," I mumbled under my breath, making a beeline for my desktop table, more specifically, the shoebox collecting dust under it. Because of this, I let go of Harper who tumbled down again on her back without me supporting her up.
Ducking down and shoveling around the abandoned box, I reached for my old camera and its charger along with it.
In my drunken mind that was running a thousand miles an hour at that point, this made sense. I couldn't explain it, even to myself at the moment— darn those shots— but something in my brain was nagging me to do this.
So I did. I turned on the camera I usually used to film during my travels and placed it on the nearest flat surface that faced the foot of the bed. Making sure it was connected to the charger, I pressed record.
When I turned my attention back to the wasted princess on my bed, I saw her halfway asleep once again.
"Harper, no sleeping yet!" I picked her up and we posed in front of the lense, with me barely being able to hold us both up. "Say hi, Harper."
