I hold my hands palms up in a what the fuck gesture before I put them back on the table. “I’m at a loss.”
Harper turns her chair so that she’s looking at me head-on. “Have you ever wondered if she doesn’t talk to you because you’re so loud about it? Loud isn’t the Remy any of us know. You’ve never been that type of guy, but I get it. You’re frustrated. You want things to go back to the way they were. She’s always been one of your best friends. But what happens if you go about it in a way that’s not a show? Send her a note? Make a small gesture, one that she’ll know is from you.”
“I tried texting her.”
“Jesus Christ,” Harper moans, rolling her eyes. “Texting is so impersonal. Write her a damn note. Use a pen and a piece of motherfucking notebook paper, and let her see you took a minute out of your day to do it. Women want to know you can make time for them, that in the middle of the craziness of everything you’ve got going on, you’re thinking about them. Which is why your brother is here today and almost got lucky in the back.”
“Cockblocker.” Cash coughs into his hand. I shoot him a glare, trying to remind him we’re talking about me here.
“I think about her all the time,” I admit softly. The hole she’s left in my life is big, one that no one else is ever going to be able to fill.
“Then show her. Don’t tell her, show her.”
The idea has its merits, and I understand what Harper is trying to say, but I wonder if I’m too late.
“What if she doesn’t want me anymore?”
Cash chuckles darkly, rapping his nails on the table. “Trust me, she does. The way she watches you across the street every day, she wants you and the relationship you two can have. The guys who try to give her their numbers, that she doesn’t take? She’s waiting on you bro. Now man up and do something about it.”
For the first time in a year, I have a plan.
I’m going to win Tatum Walker back, I’m going to show her what she means to me, and I’m not going to stop until I have her in my arms.
No matter how long that takes.
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On the DL Page 17
