now. I know they’ll have my back and support me when I tell them.
I open the door and stare at Harper. “What the hell happened? You okay?”
Not only does she have a shiner but also a bandage at the corner of her forehead.
“Yeah, I’m fine.” She points at the door. “Can I come in?”
I stare at her face a moment longer, a rush of heat weaving its way through my veins. It’s pulsing angrily at the sight in front of me. “Did someone hurt you?”
“Goodness, no.” She pulls back, almost looking . . . appalled? “Let me in, and I’ll explain.”
I wordlessly step aside. What the hell happened to her?
“Thank you.” She looks around the living room. “Is your brother home?”
I shake my head. “He’s back on campus.”
“Oh.” Pause. “He doesn’t live with you?”
“Not all the time, no. He lives on campus but likes to come here on the occasional weekend or school break.” I walk to the kitchen, wanting to drench my suddenly dry mouth with a liter of water. “Want something to drink?”
“Water, please.”
I nod, pressing my lips together in a tight line. They start burning from the pressure, and I force myself to relax. I point toward the back of the house. “Do you want to sit outside?”
I grab our drinks and lead the way. Past the bathroom and office. Storage room. And then through the living room that leads toward the patio doors.
Harper’s right next to me, staring out the glass windows. “You have a pool. And a jacuzzi. I might have to stop by more often.”
Pictures of Harper in a bikini flood my mind, and I instantly push them aside. That’s the last thing I need right now. My life’s messy enough. No need to add more to it by fantasizing about this woman.
I shake my head, but the picture’s stuck front and center. “It’s nice to have, even though I hardly ever use it.”
She looks at me, her blonde waves moving to the side. “That’s a shame. Someone should make good use of it.”
Feel free to jump in. The words are on the tip of my tongue, but I bite them off.
Especially not the way she looks. It must be painful.
How could I get so distracted that I forgot how beaten up she looks? There’s clearly something wrong with me.
I hand her one of the waters and open the patio door. “Let’s go sit so you can tell me what happened.”
“Okay.”
We walk to the covered patio and get comfortable in the cushioned lounge chairs.
Harper sinks back and closes her eyes for a moment.
She’s probably hurting.
“Are you okay? Do you need anything? Some ice maybe?” I keep my eyes on her, studying her.
The way her nostrils flare, like she’s irritated and doesn’t want to talk about it, or the way she tries to suppress the flinch when she opens her eyes again. She’s definitely something else, and not here to impress me. Which is oddly fascinating.
Not that I have women throwing themselves at me left and right doing whatever it takes to get my attention, but I can’t say I’m constantly ignored either.
But then, Harper wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for our . . . situation.
“Harper, what happened?” I almost growl out the words. And to think I’m known for my patience. Huh.
She huffs out an irked breath. “It’s no biggie. I got out of bed too quickly this morning, got dizzy, and fainted. Banged my head on the floor.” She points at her bandage before pointing at her eye. “And somehow managed to hit myself in the eye while I was trying to catch my fall.”
“Shit.” I’m relieved and tense at the same time.
“Pretty much.”
“Sorry, I . . . are you hurting?” I don’t want her to be in pain. Ever. Does the baby feel when she’s in pain? I store away that question so I can look it up later.
She shrugs. “A little. They gave me some painkillers at the hospital.” She holds up a hand. “Only Tylenol though, since you’re not supposed to have ibuprofen when you’re pregnant.”
My spine straightens. Another piece of info to store away. For now, my brain is zeroed in on what else she said. “You went to the hospital?”
Harper pulls her feet up on the chair, and somehow this curled-up position makes her look more her age. It’s also the first time I notice that she’s not wearing a lot of makeup, which probably adds to the younger look. It doesn’t take away from her beauty