Harper possessed a rare talent - she could blend two worlds that the universe swore could never coexist: her humdrum life as an accountant by day with her steamy famous alter ego crafting erotic tales online by night.
But her double life unravels...
❝I know you never lie, but I self-sabotage I know your love isn't just a mirage But I tend to panic if I can't reach out and grab it I need to get out all these bad habits❞
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"So, when did you fall in love with her?"
The coffee I was drinking entered the wrong chute and caused me to sputter like a malfunctioning puppet, shooting out of my nose in the least attractive of ways. Not that there were any attractive ways to have that happen, I imagined.
I set my now empty (and ruined) mug in the sink and turned around to face Aryan who sat there on the other side of the kitchen island, eating his breakfast with all the innocence of an angel. He was making a habit of having me choke on my breakfast these days.
"What did you say?" I asked, wondering if I'd imagined it.
"I asked when. You. Fell. In. Love. With. Her."
Each time he punctuated the words dramatically felt like a punch to my dick. If my heart lived in my dick, of course.
"Did you mix pot into your cereal or something?" I joked, my tone falling flat. "Or are you just—"
"Enough, A."
Aryan set down his spoon with a resounding clang and stared at me, his brown eyes sharpening into ruthless daggers of disappointment. I hated that look. From anyone else, I didn't care but Aryan's always invoked some kind of guilt in me.
"You owe yourself the honesty. Or do you want me to lay out the facts for you?"
I leaned back against the sink and crossed my arms over my chest, defiant.
"There's nothing to lay out because there's nothing there."
"Classic defense mechanism response," Aryan sighed, getting to his feet and snatching his bowl aggressively off the counter as he moved over to my side. "You're just running away again."
His words hit me the worst possible way. What was it with everyone labelling me a runner? That accusation had started with my mother and now spread like poison uttered by every other significant person in my life.
"I'm not running," I hissed, glaring at him as he stood next to me, placing the bowl in the sink. "I'm standing my ground. There's a difference."
"Right," Aryan drawled, flicking a couple of thick black strands out of his eyes as he met my gaze head-on. "Because staying up all night looking up apartment listings when you've got a perfectly fine, rent-free room to stay in is not running away at all."
"You're moving?"
I stiffened at the sound of Harper's voice. My head snapped in the direction of the kitchen archway and there she stood, with a groggy-eyed EJ, a twinge of surprise hitting me. I hadn't even realized he'd crashed over, but that was quickly overshadowed by the shock and... was that hurt on her face?
