Until Harmony (Until Her 4)

Reaching the corner of the building, I press my back to the wall and pull out my cell phone, unlock the screen, and bring up my Uber app. I need to get out of here and do it quickly. Thankfully, there is a driver close, so I press the button I need and wait until they are parked. Only then do I leave my hiding spot and run across the street.

“Harmony?” a girl asks, rolling down her window. I nod, open the back door, and get in, ducking down in the back seat. “You okay?”

“Yep,” I lie, and I hear my cell phone ring in my hand. Looking at the screen, I then squeeze my eyes closed.

“You sure?” she asks, and I open my eyes and meet her gaze in the rearview mirror. She’s pretty, really pretty, with dark hair and big blue eyes. She doesn’t look like any Uber driver I’ve ever had. Then again, I don’t take an Uber often.

“Yeah, just a little tipsy,” I fib as my cell phone starts to ring again.

Hitting Deny, I watch a text pop up on my screen.

Where the fuck are you?

I sit back and close my eyes. I must be drunker than I thought I was. I know for sure I’m stupider than I thought. Opening my eyes, I text back.

Sorry, had to go. I’ll see you around.

Not even two seconds later, my phone chimes again.

Where are you?

I ignore that text. I also ignore my stomach turning and my eyes stinging, and I keep ignoring everything that I’m feeling until I’m home in bed. Then I turn off my phone and proceed to ignore the pounding on my door. But no matter how hard I try, I can’t ignore the way my heart hurts.

Chapter 4

Harlen

“JESUS,” EVAN SAYS, AND I look at him and see his eyes are pointed across the bar. Following his gaze, my stomach muscles tighten along with my hand around my beer.

“What the fuck?” I growl, watching Harmony put one knee then the other onto a barstool, then her hands to the top of the bar, and climb on before standing. Once there, Ashlyn climbs up next to her and they smile at each other. Only then do they start singing along with a pop song that’s playing way too fucking loud. Seeing her, her makeup smoky, her hair done big, in a mass of messy curls, the tight black dress she’s wearing showing way too much skin, and the heels she has on making her long legs impossibly longer, my dick starts to get hard and my blood starts to heat. Not heat: it boils, making me see red.

“You finally gonna deal with that?” Evan asks, and my eyes go to him. He doesn’t know what went down between us, but he knows Harmony and I went from spending almost every day together to her avoiding me.

I was angry two weeks ago when she didn’t return my calls or answer her door after we kissed and she ran off. I’m no longer angry. I’m furious she’s refused to talk to me and hasn’t had the balls to come to me. Oh, I’m sure she’s twisted shit up in her head about my reaction to the kiss, but the reality of it is, if I didn’t get away from her, I wouldn’t have been able to control myself. I was two seconds away from taking her right there in the bar, not giving a fuck who saw the show. That’s how badly I wanted her.

When I started talking to her, I went against every single instinct I had because of her reaction to me asking her out the first time. That fear I saw in her eyes, it showed me she was truly afraid, afraid of living, doing something on a whim, taking a chance. That’s when I came up with a plan to get into that head of hers, to get her comfortable with me, make it easy on her. Obviously, that plan went to shit.

“Fuck.” I drop my beer to the table then stand and cut through the crowd of men gathered around the bar glaring at them until they back off. “Get down,” I growl, and Harmony’s eyes come to me and widen. What she doesn’t do is make a move to get down. “Get the fuck down now,” I demand, watching her swallow and take a step back. Seeing she’s about to step off the top of the bar, I shake my head, wrap my hands around her waist, and pull her down, listening to her shriek as I toss her over my shoulder.

“Harlen!” she shouts, pounding my back with her fists.

“Calm,” I rumble, smacking her ass, and her body stills as I push out of the door.

The second we’re outside, she kicks her legs and yells, “Put me down!” She hits me again, so I smack her ass, this time harder than before. “You didn’t just do that… again,” she cries the last word, and I wonder how the fuck it’s possible that I feel like smiling when I’m so unbelievably pissed off.