I will see her again.
4
Harper
When the cool May breeze hits my exposed skin, I pull my jacket tight against my body. I need to get the image of Josh with those girls out of my head. When I walked through the bar, it took every ounce of my self-control to not look in his direction, yet at the last minute, I caved, thought one glimpse wouldn’t hurt. Boy, was I wrong. I’m not even supposed to like this guy. Rule number one: do not fall for good-looking and charming baseball players. And here I am standing outside alone, wondering why I have that rule in the first place.
“Fancy seeing you here.” I flinch at the voice I’ve spent the last few days trying to forget as his heavy footfalls echo behind me.
“Cole,” I say, stopping in my tracks but facing away from him. “What are you doing here?” I don’t want to see that smug look on his face. I don’t want to get that feeling deep down in my gut that I wasted two years of my life on a douchebag that cared more about his appearance than the woman he claimed to love.
“I wanted to see you.”
I try not to gag at the words because he’s full of shit. He’s just mad that I’m ignoring him and not answering his calls and texts.
“You’ve been ignoring me. How else am I supposed to talk to you?”
And there it is. His real motive. I detect a hint of anger in his voice that begins to grate on my nerves. He’s angry? When he was the one that threw our relationship out the window just so he could get between the legs of a willing female that batted her eyelashes his way.
“Come on, baby. I know you’ve missed me…”
I bark out a laugh, turning with a smug smirk on my face when I stumble. His eyes are dark, angry and unlike anything I’ve seen from him before. He’s still classically handsome, with his jet-black hair styled to look like he just rolled out of bed, but I know on good authority that it took him at least twenty minutes. He’s in dark wash jeans and a crisp white T-shirt that probably costs more than my rent. He reminds me so much of his father, a man that hated me from the second we met and didn’t pass up an opportunity to voice that opinion loud and clear. Being chief of police, Mr. Mitchell is not your typical father. He’s mean, controlling, and from what I’m witnessing right now, has passed down those traits to his son.
“Seriously?” The annoyance in my tone is clear as I hold back the eye roll that so desperately wants to happen. “You expect me to talk to you after what I walked in on?” The frustration is building and I know that if I don’t walk away soon, I’ll say something I regret.
“Baby, you know that meant nothing…” he says while taking a few steps toward me. I step back. “She meant nothing.” Like I believe a word that’s coming out of his fucking mouth.
“She meant nothing? You really expect me to believe that?”
He shrugs as if he truly believes that what he did was not a big deal. “We only ever got together to take the edge off.”
He’s not wrong. It was. But he didn’t walk in on me spreading my legs for any and every available man in the room.
“Plus,” he continues before I can get a word in. “Claire and I have the same sexual taste.”
Eww. Disgusting. I do not want to hear what Claire likes when she’s fucking my boyfriend.
“Same sexual taste? What are you, a nympho?”
He eyes me with confusion, as I hold in the laughter that threatens to break through my chest. He’s definitely not the brightest bulb in the shed. “If I remember correctly, I asked you a million times to try something new, to spice something up, but you refused.” That condescending smirk emerges, and I know he’s about to say something stupid.
“You’re so innocent, baby, I wanted to protect you.”
Yup, there’s the stupid.
“Bull. Shit. You’re just a coward, using me as a way to excuse your behavior. Grow the fuck up.” I turn, starting to walk down the sidewalk toward the street, hoping to catch a cab before I turn around and decide to beat him to a pulp. Even after turning away, walking as fast as I can down the street, he is still there, following me like a lost puppy.
“What are you doing?” I sputter, stopping in front of a closed barbershop and turning only to see his smug smile. “Just leave me alone, I just want to go home,” I whisper that last part like a prayer, digging through my purse trying to find my phone so I can call an Uber and get the hell out of here.
“I’ll take you home.” Fuck me. He can’t take a hint to save his life.
“Nope. Never happening again.” I finally find my phone, pull it out and start dialing when Cole’s fingers grip my wrist.
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t want to talk to you? Because you disgust me? How about because the sight of you makes me want to throw things against a wall? Any of those reasons are fair and just as to why I do not want you to drive me home.” Fuck. How I wish I could throw something right now, specifically at his head or anywhere near him. Maybe I should go back into the bar and grab those darts because apparently, I have a knack for hitting people with them.
“Don’t be like that, Harper, it’s not becoming, and it
