She closed the door just as softly as she’d opened it, tiptoeing back out into the living room, where she collapsed on the couch with a barely contained sigh of . . . relief? That’s what she should be feeling.
So the disappointment Harper experienced at finding him alone wasn’t a good thing. But that was exactly what she felt: complete and utter disappointment. What the hell was wrong with her? Did she really want Roger to cheat on her?
No. Though that would’ve at least stirred up some excitement in her life, right?
Leaning back against the soft, chocolate-brown microsuede couch, she closed her eyes. She was being ridiculous. So she and Roger had been going through a rough patch. Make that more of a . . . boring patch. Yes, their relationship had turned boring quickly. Like the moment they moved in together. At first, she’d loved it. Loved making Roger dinner and watching him work out in the tiny backyard on the weekends, completing all of those tasks she put on his honey-do list. Loved sharing a bed with him every night, enjoyed the sweet, thoughtful sex they experienced.
Harper made a face, keeping her eyes closed. Who had sweet, thoughtful sex? God, that sounded so pathetically boring. And that was the problem. Everything about her and Roger had turned . . .
Boring. With a capital, giant, bold-ass B.
“Hey.”
Opening her eyes, she found Roger standing in front of her, a little rumpled, a lot confused. His glasses were perched crookedly on his nose, and she wanted to reach out and straighten them. Smooth out his hair, brush her hands down the front of his wrinkled shirt. Roger wasn’t one to appear rumpled. He had an image to uphold, even when he was home with just her.
She did none of those things though. Instead she offered him a hey in return.
“I didn’t know you were home,” Roger said as he settled on the couch beside her, leaving a few inches between them. Within reaching distance though, and that was a good thing. It had to be a good thing. Maybe they weren’t a passionate, overcome-with-need-for-each-other couple, but comfortable was good. Comfortable was safe.
And Harper liked feeling safe.
“I didn’t want to disturb you,” Harper said, settling her hand in the empty space between them, picking at a nonexistent loose thread. She wanted to see if Roger would reach for her hand and entwine their fingers. It wasn’t fair, what she was doing. Testing him. She couldn’t help it though. Besides, she was testing herself just as much.
“I was so tired when I got home from work I just collapsed on the bed and crashed.” He sent her a rueful smile. “And it’s not even tax season anymore.”
Her smile was strained while panic ate at her insides. Oh, God, she couldn’t do this. Not with Roger. She’d been fooling herself thinking that he was the one. He so wasn’t. She worked for him, they spent all of their time together, yet she’d never felt so disconnected from someone in her entire life. They’d lived together for the last six months, and it just . . . it wasn’t working. They were good friends, but that was it.
Did he realize it? Did he see that they weren’t what anyone would call a passionate, madly in love couple? She’d been feeling that way for a while, keeping her worry to herself, but after what had happened today her fears were confirmed.
If she was really happy with Roger, then she wouldn’t have had such a strong reaction to Weston.
The moment she’d set eyes on West, her entire body had broken out in goose bumps. When their gazes first met, she’d been instantly transported back to that singular hot night they’d shared. The night he’d approached her with a drunken, crooked smile and asked if she’d take a walk with him. She’d said yes like an ea
ger puppy, and he’d seemed just as eager, taking her hand and dragging her along with him.
They’d found a secluded alcove near the lake. He’d wrapped her up in his arms when she complained that she was cold and proceeded to warm her up with his lips and hands for hours. It had been the most passionate night of her life, hands down. A make-out session, one that West had most likely forgotten, was the most passionate encounter she’d ever experienced.
How sad was that?
But she wanted that. Craved it. Passion. Longing. Heat. Lots and lots of heat. Glancing over at Roger now, she felt no heat. Well, there was that pleasant warmth lingering within her, but it felt like friendship. Fondness. None of that passionate, overwhelming burn that threatened to consume her.
That’s what she wanted, what she needed. Yet what she and Roger shared didn’t even come close to passion.
Taking a deep breath, she reached out and patted Roger’s hand, offering him a sad smile. “Roger, I think we need to talk.”
Chapter Three
“AND SO WE both agreed, I’m moving out.” Harper shrugged and reached for her coffee, taking a sip. “I spent the night at Grandma’s. I’ll be staying there through the weekend and then I’ll go in Monday when Roger’s at work and get all my stuff moved out.” Where she was going to go, she wasn’t sure, but she’d figure it out.
She had to.
Her best friend, Wren Gallagher, gaped at her, mouth dropping open, her eyes wide with what Harper knew was shock. Eyes that were as blue as her brother’s, if Harper was being truthful. Why hadn’t she ever really noticed it before? West and Wren shared the same eyes, as well as the same initials.
“Wait a minute.” Wren shook her head. “You broke up with Roger?”
Harper nodded, remaining quiet.
“But why?” Wren asked incredulously.