Can You Handle It (Naughty Bedroom Collection)

It’s almost like he knows why I’m here…

I avoided his gaze as he walked me to the elevator, ignoring the painful pangs in my chest as the doors glided shut.

When the car made it to Tyler’s floor, I stepped off and stood in the hallway for a long time. As much as I’d tried to get Chelsea’s voice out of my head this weekend, one of the more hurtful phrases remained.

“Is dating my brother and potentially hurting him, worth losing our friendship over?”

I wiped my eyes one last time and knocked on his door.

No answer.

I knocked again, much harder this time. Much longer this time.

“Hey …” He opened the door, dressed in nothing but a pair of dark grey briefs. “I was just about to—Whoa.” He cupped my face in his hands. “What’s wrong, babe?”

“You can’t call me that anymore.”

He raised his eyebrow. “Excuse me.”

“I don’t want to date you anymore,” I said, keeping my voice firm as tears fell down my face. “I think this has run its course and I need to focus on being alone and getting my life together post-divorce, you know?”

“No, I don’t know.” He wiped my tears away with his fingertips. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying that you’ve been a really good distraction and an amazing fuck, but I need to stop kidding myself.”

He stepped back, looking beyond confused.

“I’m breaking up with you, and we’re over,” I said. “Better to end things now before one of us gets hurt.”

“In that case, I think you’re a little too late.”

Silence.

“I have a cab downstairs waiting for me.” I couldn’t think of anything else to say. “He only agreed to give me ten minutes so I, uh…I need to get back down there if I’m going to make it back to Seattle in time for work.”

“Just like that?” He narrowed his eyes at me. “You’re just going to walk out of my life and act like I don’t mean shit to you?”

“I said the sex was good.”

“I think we’re more than just sex at this point, Harlow.” He took a step forward, and I took a step back. “You weren’t like this yesterday. What’s changed?”

“Reality caught up to me,” I said. “That’s all.”

“Bullshit. Come inside and talk to me.”

I shook my head. “I’ll see you around.”

“Harlow…”

“It’s over, Tyler,” I said. “We’re over.”

He followed me to the elevator, looking as hurt and upset as I felt, but he didn’t get on. He glared at me as the doors closed, and I dissolved into tears all over again.

Alone

Tyler

The following morning

Chelsea: I can’t believe that Harlow took advantage of you. She knows better.

Chelsea: I also can’t believe that you didn’t know better. She’s like a sister to you, too. Well, “was.”

Chelsea: I need to talk to you before my wedding.

I’m not talking to you about shit.

I’d mentally replayed Harlow’s hurtful breakup speech a million times this morning, reading between the lines. I’d assumed that my sister had something to do with it, but now I knew for sure.

Seething, I scrolled down to Harlow’s name and hit call.

“You’ve reached the voicemail of Harlow McGuire!” It didn’t even ring. “Please leave a message and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.”

I called her gallery.

“You’ve reached The McGuire Gallery!” That voicemail message was instant, too. “We’re currently not accepting calls due to our busy and private exhibit schedule, but if you leave your name and number, my assistant will get back to you.”

Fuck.

I knew that Harlow didn’t really want to end things with me—I could see it in her eyes, and I couldn’t bear the thought of ever seeing her with someone else.

Her ex was terrible enough.

As badly as I wanted to call Chelsea and put her in her place—to tell her that she was an unreasonable hypocrite, it was out of the question. She’d play the “It’s my wedding season” card, and I didn’t have anything to trump that.

I waited a few hours and called Harlow again.

And again …

Numbers

Harlow

Two Weeks Later

I woke up with an unbearable ache in my chest. My pillowcase lay drenched in tears, and my throat was dry from crying.

The number of missed calls from Tyler now stood at a persistent seventy-two, and he’d left a new voicemail every time. He was still sending me text messages, begging me to reconsider, but I forced myself to hold firm.

I didn’t want to “ruin” Chelsea’s wedding season by betraying her again.

Still, something told me that I was only witnessing the eye of this shit-storm.

The worst rains had yet to fall.

The Blacklist

Harlow

Subject: Bridal Shower

Hey everyone!

Just letting you know that the bridal shower will be taking place on the rooftop of The May Flower Park Hotel. (405 Olive Way)

Unfortunately, Harlow has already let me know that she can’t be with us (She has A LOT going on right now), but we’ll have a drink in her honor anyway.