“What’s this?”
I place the box in her hand. “I saw it in the window on one of my runs.”
“I didn’t get you anything.”
“You didn’t have time between taking my head off and handing me my nuts.”
“Sorry.”
“Me too.”
Her chin wobbles as she opens the box, and I weigh her reaction.
“It’s…” She lifts the platinum and embarrassingly small ruby necklace from the box.
“A rose. I know the star of the show gets them after a performance, right? So, since I can’t be at yours, I thought maybe if you wore this after, you would know I wanted to be the one to hand it to you.”
“I’m never the star.”
“But you are. You just got your first solo.”
She lifts her hair as I take the necklace out and fasten it around her neck.
Her eyes shimmer with tears as I take my seat across from her, and she cups the necklace in appreciation. “Thank you.”
“Don’t cry.”
“It’s the wine. It’s strong.”
“Liar.”
“Okay, it’s because it’s the perfect gift.” A tear glides down her cheek as her eyes bore into mine. “I still love you, Lance.”
Her confession steals my breath, striking deep. She leans over and kisses me.
“Jesus, Harper,” I murmur before deepening the kiss, tasting her regret. Her words mixed with the salt dissolving on my tongue light me up with the hope I’ve been desperate for.
She pulls away and palms my jaw. “I feel bad, I got you nothing.”
“That can be rectified.”
She raises a suspicious brow. “Is this an ass thing?”
“No,” I lift the word with my chuckle. “But is that on the table?”
She slaps at my chest. “Absolutely not!”
“Okay, okay, doesn’t hurt to ask.”
She smirks. “I might consider it.”
“Really?”
?
?Sure, if I can do it to you first.”
“Shit,” I shiver. “We’re good.”