Secret Plunge - Jasmin Miller Page 0,50

model that seems a bit clingy.

Then there’s me . . . and Harper. Beautiful Harper, who I miss.

So. Fucking. Much.

“Dude.” Someone punches me on the arm. “What’s up with you this week?”

“Huh?”

Noah shakes his head at me. “How are you holding up, man?”

He says it quietly, but it’s one of those moments where conversation suddenly dies and everyone can hear what’s being said.

Noah flinches, while Hunter and Jace give me identical stares.

Hunter leans forward on the table. “What’s going on?”

“Yeah.” I brush my hand through my hair. “I wanted to talk to you guys about it anyway.”

Jace leans closer too. “What is it?”

I take a deep breath. “Remember I spent New Year’s in New York?”

Jace and Hunter both nod, Noah listens too, but he’s already heard the story.

“Well, I met someone.”

The confusion is clear as day on their faces, because this scenario is certainly nothing to throw a fuss over. Quite the opposite.

“We spent the night together and she’s pregnant.”

“Harper?” Jace can’t hide the surprise in his voice.

What the fuck? “What? How did you know?”

But then I notice he doesn’t look at me. He’s looking over my shoulder. Wait. Is he trying to hold back a grin? What’s funny about this?

Then his gaze snaps back to me, and he tilts his head, all humor leaving his face. “How did I know what?”

I’m not sure what we’re talking about anymore because his reaction and words don’t go together very well. “How did you know that it’s Harper?”

He points past me. “Because she’s right there. With a rather interesting shirt.”

Harper? Here? I turn around, my mouth falling open when I see her.

What on earth is she doing here? And what about her shirt?

She spots me at that moment, our eyes locking as she makes her way over to us.

She doesn’t break eye contact until she’s at our table and Jace says her name again.

“Harper?”

Her eyes go wide as she looks at him. “Oh my goodness. Jace?”

“Yeah. Hey.”

“Hi.”

They look at each other with a mixture of happy reunion and slight awkwardness.

Harper snaps out of it first. “Wow, it’s been a while since I saw you last. I didn’t know you and Ryan are friends. I should have guessed probably with my dad training you and all.” She starts chewing on her bottom lip as her gaze finds mine again.

And Jace isn’t done yet. “You know Ryan? Wait a second . . . you live in New York.” His gaze flickers to her midsection. “No fucking way.”

This time, his eyes find mine and I nod.

“Holy shit.”

I didn’t even think about the possibility of them knowing each other. Coach has trained Jace since he was a kid, so I guess it would make sense that their paths have crossed over the years when Harper visited her dad. Reminds me how much I miss Ed, the man who trained me for nearly fifteen years. He was too young to suffer a stroke, and I still miss him.

Hunter seems to feel left out. “What’s going on?”

I groan. “Hunter, this is Harper, the woman I just started telling you about.” Now his gaze goes to her stomach too, and he starts to smile. “She’s also Coach Martin’s daughter.” His smile slips, his mouth forming an O-shape.

“That would be me.” Harper’s grinning, but I can see the tension in the corners of her mouth. “It’s nice to meet you, Hunter.”

Noah holds up his hand in a wave behind me in the booth. “I’m Noah.”

Harper smiles at him and raises her hand too. “Hey.”

If I don’t say anything in the next five seconds, I’m going to explode. I have so many questions. “What are you doing here? How did you get here?”

She nods her head as if she came prepared to answer my questions. “I’m here to talk to you. My dad knew you’d be here tonight and dropped me off. After I flew over here of course.”

I take her in once more. She’s wearing black leggings and a pink-orange-colored long-sleeved shirt that says Pretend I’m a peach on it.

“Is this for me?” I swallow at the meaning of this.

“Well, it won’t fit you, but I thought it would be fun to have anyway. I thought . . . maybe we could take a picture together this weekend?” The uncertainty is crystal clear in her voice and on her face, and I hate that I’m the reason it’s there.

I’m ready to throw her over my shoulder and leave so we can have our much-needed conversation when her stomach growls.

“Have you