by J. H. Croix
Joe had jogged by me in the semi-darkness that morning. I’d recognized him because he was one of a number of runners who frequented the university grounds. Another pass by him and the rest was a jumble of awful in my memory. What was sharp was how I felt afterwards—shattered inside and out.
I had no sense of how much time passed before I climbed to my feet and numbly walked to the police station. Thus began months of hell. To this day, I recognized I should feel lucky to have seen any legal consequences at all. I was sadly unable to avoid reading about the recent spate of news stories about college sexual assault and the usual weak response from universities. I hadn’t known at the time that it was smart to have gone to the city police first. I only went there because it was closer, no other reason. There was DNA and physical evidence of his assault. Even with all of that, the prosecutor had offered a plea deal because Joe had an aggressive defense attorney who submitted reams upon reams of court filings to slow the proceedings down, and Joe argued it was consensual—as if leaving someone badly bruised and battered was consensual. Joe managed to graduate before the plea deal was finalized.
After those grueling, awful months, I’d wanted nothing more than to forget everything that happened. It had taken me four years to get to where I was now, a place where I mostly felt at peace. My mind spun over how Alex might’ve sorted out this part of my past. It wasn’t that I wanted to keep it secret. No, that was impossible. It’s just it would’ve been nice not to be seen as a victim in Alex’s eyes. I didn’t want anyone’s pity. Most certainly not that of the first man who’d made me feel alive inside in years, made me think maybe, just maybe, I could take back something I’d thought lost.
We ran through the forest, the sunlight falling through the trees in shafts. Within another few moments, we were back on the sidewalk and jogging to the steps of my apartment building. Alex came to a stop and rested his hands on his hips. He looked over at me, his dark gaze searching my face. In the weeks since we’d been running together, this was the time when he usually said goodbye and waited until I let myself in the door. He always waited until the door closed behind me. Right now, I didn’t want him to leave. Which was crazy. I didn’t want to talk about Joe or any of the mess I imagined Alex thought we needed to talk about. No, rather I felt driven and reckless. I wanted all of this with Alex to stay pure, to not be sullied by an event four years that had been like a wrecking ball in my life. It felt as if that wrecking ball was swinging its way into my future, and I didn’t like it.
I didn’t know why, but with Alex, my body took over, rather insistently in fact. Intellectually, I thought I should be so rattled at seeing Joe again that the last thing on my mind would be anything even remotely resembling sex. But Joe was long gone in my mind. Alex stood before me. His t-shirt was damp from his sweat and clung to his muscled chest. Heat coiled low in my belly, and I wanted nothing but him.
“Do you want some tea?” I blurted out, the only question I could think of. I’d usually have a cup of coffee after a shower, but I thought Alex preferred tea.
His eyes widened slightly before he looked up to the sky again. His gaze leveled with mine after another moment, and he nodded. “Don’t suppose you have coffee?”
I didn’t wait and walked up the stairs, my body humming. “Of course I have coffee. I just thought you were a tea guy,” I said as he followed me inside and up the stairs with Stanley right behind us.
Chapter Seven
Alex
I splashed icy water on my face and wiped it dry with a towel. Carefully hanging the towel on its hook by the sink, I stared at myself for a moment. My hair stuck up in spikes, as it tended to do after a run. My t-shirt was damp. I tried to ascertain if I looked as angry as I felt. Seeing Joe Schmidt had sent me to a place inside I hadn’t been in years. If Harper hadn’t been with me, I would’ve run straight at him and clocked him. But she had been, and I hadn’t wanted to rattle her in any way. I’d seen the man I now knew to be Joe enough times in the park that I knew I’d best him in a fight. It wouldn’t be much trouble really, and it would feel so damn good. Ever since I’d spoken to Olivia and Liam yesterday, I’d been wanting to.
I was known for never losing my cool on the field, and I didn’t. My nerves were hard won. I’d been raised in a middle class town outside of London—a lovely town in the English countryside. My father had been a barrister. On its face, his life was proper. Behind closed doors, he wielded power with the threat of violence toward my mum, my two sisters and me. He rarely used violence, but when he did the message was clear—violence was the consequence if you didn’t toe his line. I’d been a rough lad, lashing out the only way I’d learned. Then, I’d lucked into landing on a football team with Liam when I was eight years old. I loved it. My dad let me play because he liked the prestige that came with having a boy who was one of the best footballers in town. I lucked into finding a few men I could look up to who weren’t my father and learned violence wasn’t the only way to solve problems.
I didn’t even have to try all that hard to manage my temper. But it was there, deep under the surface. Very few things caused the tail of my temper to flick. Violence against anyone vulnerable would do it. Raping a woman I’d come to care way too much about in a very short time—well, to say that lit my fuse was a massive understatement.
Yet, reverberating in my thoughts was how absolutely critical it was I didn’t lose control. Harper didn’t need to see that. No matter how much Joe deserved it. I couldn’t suss out how Harper was doing. She felt jumpy and restless when we walked into her apartment. I’d asked to use the loo to catch my breath and because I hoped a splash of icy water would cool the anger inside. It helped, but I still wanted to make this right for Harper.
Olivia said to let Harper be with this. Don’t make this a battle when it isn’t for her.
I was trying to make sense of what to do, but I simply didn’t know if I could just let this sit. It wasn’t right. Yet, what Harper wanted had to be what happened. I pushed through the door and returned to the kitchen. The scent of coffee filtered through the air. Harper was rinsing something in the sink. Stanley had stretched out in a patch of sunshine in the living room and was already sound asleep. After turning the water off, she dried her hands and shifted to face me, leaning her hips against the counter.
“Coffee’s almost ready,” she said.
I nodded and tried to shove the questions I had about what must be a hellish topic for her out of my mind. She crossed her arms and tapped the toe of one foot lightly on the floor. After a moment of silence, she gestured to the island between the kitchen and living room where there were low stools. “You can sit if you’d like.”
I hooked a hand over the back of one of the stools and sat, resting an elbow on the counter and wondering what mundane topic we could discuss. It all felt ridiculous. I might only be just getting to know Harper beyond the superficial, but it didn’t feel right to try to ignore what had happened and to pretend I didn’t know about her past. I ran a hand through my hair and leaned back.
“Would you like me to answer your question in the park?” I finally asked in reference to her question about who told me about Joe. I figured it was best to give her the chance to decide if we talked about anything related to the last fifteen minutes or so.
Her eyes widened slightly, and she tightened her arms where they crossed. For a flash, I saw that guarded quality she carried with her, but then she took a deep breath and let it out with a sigh. “I’m guessing Olivia told you,” she finally said, her voice soft and edged with weariness.
“Right. She wasn’t trying to gossip. I think she was trying to be helpful,” I offered, not ready to admit I’d demanded it from Olivia when she made her passing comment about Harper running with me.
“I know. Most everyone I know and plenty of strangers know what happened. It’s not a big secret in my life. I guess I was a little startled you figured out who Joe was.”
I watched her and held myself back from standing and wrap
ping her in my arms. It took an enormous amount of restraint, but I managed. I sensed she didn’t want to be viewed as vulnerable.
“Right. After Olivia told me what happened, I looked him up. Maybe it’s none of my business, but…”
But what? What was I doing looking up the guy? The quick answer was I wanted to make sure I knew precisely who hurt Harper. My gut had told me it would be the very man we’d encountered in the park before, and my gut had been right. I’d seen Joe’s photo online and recognized him immediately.
Harper was still waiting for me to finish, her blue eyes watching and waiting patiently. I shifted my shoulders just as the coffee maker beeped. Harper didn’t turn away, so I took a breath and plowed ahead. Maybe I wasn’t comfortable with any of this, but she was asking, so I’d answer. “I wanted to know who he was. After the other morning when we saw him, well…I was worried. I’m not trying to dredge anything up. I just…” I lifted my hands and let them fall. “Hell, I don’t know. All I can say is I figured I’d rather know who the guy was in case I ever saw him.”
Harper nodded, chewing the inside of her cheek as she did. After a moment, she turned and poured two cups of coffee before sitting down beside me. The island counter curved such that we were angled toward each other. She slid a cup of coffee in front of me. “Cream or sugar?” she asked.
“Neither,” I said before taking a gulp. The rich, slightly bitter flavor hit me, and I closed my eyes.
“I guess I should say thanks for caring enough to want to look the guy up,” Harper said, her words soft, but laced with anger.
Opening my eyes, I looked over to find her staring into her mug as she circled it in her hand.
“The whole thing’s bloody awful. Now I know who he is, if I see him…” My words trailed off because I didn’t think it would be particularly helpful to tell her I’d be happy to bash his face in.
“You can beat him senseless?” she said, an odd, sad smile curling her lips as she repeated my earlier words.
I shrugged and took another swallow of coffee. “Yup. If needed, that’s what I’ll do.” I set my mug down and looked over at her. “But if you told me not to, I’d leave him alone. You have to know that.”
She stopped circling her mug in her hands, her eyes whipping up to mine. I could feel her searching me. The air was taut around us, humming with the intensity I’d come to recognize whenever I was near her. At the moment, it wasn’t weighted with desire, but a simple depth of feeling.
She finally nodded slowly. “That’s good to know.” She paused, chewing the inside of her cheek again as she eyed me. “If you want to know the truth, part of me would love for you to kick his ass. The other part of me knows it’s not worth it. He’s not worth any of it, and it won’t change what happened.” Another long pause. This time, she drummed her fingers on the counter and took a gulp of coffee. “I guess it’s weird to say this, but I’m glad you looked him up. I try not to think about him too much because it’s been four years. I only moved into this apartment a few months ago, and I didn’t know he lived anywhere near here. I don’t like to worry my friends and family, so I haven’t told anyone I saw him. I guess it makes me feel better knowing you know he’s around. In a roundabout way, I think I’m saying thanks,” she said with a small smile, her dimple winking at me.
I absorbed her words and her smile, and my chest felt tight. I was used to worrying about people. I’d spent my entire childhood worrying about my mum and my two sisters. Whenever I looked back, I remembered the sense of freedom I felt when I played football. It was about the only thing I could do to escape the house and the heaviness that resided there. Funny thing, but I’d never worried about my own safety. My dad was the kind of jerk who steered clear of anyone who could push back too hard, so aside from verbal attacks, he largely left me alone. Even when I wasn’t very big, I didn’t hesitate to lash back. By the time I was in my teens, I was bigger, taller and stronger than him. Only then did he back off from my mum and my sisters. I’d had it in the back of my mind to talk my mum into moving out before I left for university, but he died from a heart attack and that was that. My sense of relief had been profound and only sadness had followed.
I looked to Harper and wondered if I could stop worrying about her. I didn’t think so. It came too easily to me. Plus, she didn’t need to do this alone. I wanted to demand she tell Olivia and Daisy and anyone else who cared about her that Joe was nearby. My mind snapped at me, reminding me this had to be hers to handle. The last thing she needed was me taking control and dictating how she should deal with the bloody hellish reality of accidentally moving into a neighborhood where the man who once raped her happened to frequent.
I took a swallow of my coffee and belatedly nodded. “No thanks needed,” I finally replied.
A horn honked from the street. The sun falling through Harper’s front windows glinted on her hair. She idly traced a pattern along the edges of the tiled counter while I wondered what to say next.
“Can we talk about something else?” she asked suddenly.
“Whatever you want.”
Her eyes brightened. She nibbled on her bottom lip as she looked over at me, reminding me of how good her lips felt.
Mate, what are you thinking? Not supposed to think about anything like that right now.
I gave a mental shake. Hell, I didn’t know if it was proper to think about her like that at all. My mind spun to the day she’d kissed me—so boldly—and then skipped ahead to the feel of her channel clenching around my fingers. I didn’t know what to think of any of that now.
I jumped when she slid her hand onto my leg. We were seated quite close. When my eyes whipped up, hers were right there—bright blue and flashing with something I didn’t quite know how to read.
I took another gulp of my coffee, buying a moment to gather myself. My body had tightened, electricity spinning through it the moment she touched me. Because that’s the effect Harper had on me. Fuck. My mind was definitely in a different place than my body and prepared for an all out internal lecture to keep me from doing something stupid.
I stared at Harper, trying to read into her gaze. Her eyes darkened. “Is this a thing where you get all weirded out because, well, because of this morning?” she demanded, her eyes snapping.
Bloody hell. I’d conveniently blanked out how assertive she could be and certainly didn’t expect her to get pissed at me. Saying nothing wouldn’t help. “Don’t think I’m acting weird. It’s been, well, I suppose it’s been an odd morning. That’s all.”
Harper kept me in her sights, a flush cresting her cheeks. “Don’t you dare let the past mess this up.” Her words were fierce, her flush deepening as she spoke.
I was truly torn inside. My body, well, my body wanted to yank her to me. A vision of her straddling my lap flashed through my mind, and my cock twitched. All the while, my mind was trying to pump the brakes. Big time. I didn’t know if there was a right way to go about any of this, but…
My thoughts came to a screeching halt when Harper stood abruptly. Seated on the stool, my knees were splayed with my feet hooked on the footrest. She stepped between my knees, her sudden closeness sending a bolt of need through me. With me seated, our faces were level, and she was but a whisper away. Bloody hell. She could not…
Mid-thought, she lifted a hand and ran it through my messy hair. See, she touched me and my usual control vanished. My heart beat hard and fast against my ribs. Her eyes scanned my face, the blue darkening to navy. I forced myself to hold still, tension vibrating through my body. Her hand sifted through my hair and trailed down my cheek before she tilted forward and brought her lips to mine. Later, I’d wonder about her boldness because I was usually the one to initiate when it came to women, mostly because I liked to be in control. With Harper, the only control I’d held to was not letting her push this too far and too fast.
In this moment with her plump lips warm against mine, I didn’t wonder about anything. I turned the tables and yanked her to me, sweeping m
y tongue in her mouth. She gasped and then dove into our kiss as if her life depended on it. Our tongues tangled while her hands mapped my chest. I was on fire, inside and out, so hot for her, I could hardly contain it. She felt so good, so fucking good against me, her lush curves and fit body delicious in contrast. My lips blazed a trail of kisses down her neck, the skin soft and tangy. In the midst of our heated kiss, my phone went off, blaring out the chorus from All You Need is Love by the Beatles, courtesy of Liam who’d put it on my phone over a year ago. I’d never bothered to change it.
The repeat of the chorus nudged me into sanity. I couldn’t quite bring my lips off of her skin—it was too delicious—but I stopped in my meanderings and held still. I could feel the pounding of her heart, my own beating in a rough percussive rhythm along with hers. My cock was so hard it bordered on painful. I forced myself to lift my head, instantly missing the taste of her skin.
She looked as gobsmacked as I felt. The reckless wildness I’d sensed from her was tempered, but just barely. Over the pounding of my heart, I forced myself to speak, scrambling inside for some semblance of control. “I didn’t mean…”
“Don’t you dare tell me you didn’t mean that,” she said, her voice low and her words heated.
“That’s not what I was about to say.”
I took a shuddering breath, grasping for control. My hold on it was so weak as to be useless, but I hung on. I leaned back slightly, needing to create some space between us even if it was infinitesimal. “I didn’t mean for that to get out of hand,” I finally added.
