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...
❝(Do I wanna know?) If this feelin' flows both ways? (Sad to see you go) Was sorta hopin' that you'd stay (Baby, we both know) That the nights were mainly made For sayin' things that you can't say tomorrow day❞
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I was halfway through unzipping my suitcase and rifling through it for my toiletries when Megan appeared like a witch out of thin air and slammed her fist down on the unzipped portion.
"Not so fast, Aiden Mitchell."
I glanced up from my seat on the pull-out couch, bracing myself for whatever elaborate scheme Megan had concocted.
"What do you want?" I asked, feeling the exhaustion already settling in just by seeing her face.
"I claim this couch," she announced, loud enough for everyone in the damn suite to hear her. I could hear EJ and Aryan quiet down from the room they 'happened' to be sharing, no doubt tuning into the drama with their ears pressed to the wall.
My eyes skirted past her shoulder to the other room behind her, wondering what Harper was doing inside of it. Megan was meant to be in there with her, not here terrorizing me.
"What do you mean you're claiming it?"
"As in, you're bunking with Harper. I'm sleeping here."
I narrowed my eyes.
"What devious plot are you cooking up now, Meg?"
She blinked at me and smiled, a smile oozing with honeyed innocence.
"Nothing at all."
I'd lived with the woman long enough to know it was a ploy. But what could she possibly gain from me sharing a room with Harper? If anything, that arrangement worked in my favor.
And Megan was never the generous type.
"I think I'll sleep here, thanks."
She rolled her eyes at my skepticism and sank down on the edge of the couch, lightly bumping my bag off it a tad.
"Oh, Aiden. Always assuming I've got something up my sleeve. I just think you've 'earned' the privilege of spending quality time with Harper."
So she had been calculating brownie points in her head. All that lingering around at our place, calculated stares my way...it hadn't been just her protectiveness or even jealousy. She'd been analyzing me.
"Also," she continued, then whisked something out of back pocket, dropping a zipped, rectangular case on the top of my bag. "Here."
"And what's this?"
With an impish grin, Megan leaned in.
"Remember that little incident we had with your files?"
The mere mention of it should have stung. All I felt was an odd level of...well, nothing. To my surprise, I realized I was over it.
