Searching for Harmony (Boston Love 1)

After a few minutes of sobbing, I looked up. I’ve never done this before. I’ve never experienced these feeling

s about anyone other than Trey. The way I’m feeling about Preston is ten times stronger and it is confusing the hell out of me. Please…please just make the pain go away. Burying my face in my hands again, my body shook as sobs rolled through me. “I’m so scared. Please help me.”

Please, God. Please.

Chapter 8

Just Friends

Preston

Opening up Harmony’s refrigerator, I attempted to find some sort of food to work with. I was met with pretty much an empty refrigerator. “Jesus, no wonder she looks like she’s lost weight.” Pushing a bag of lettuce out of the way, I saw some eggs. Reaching in, I pulled them out.

Smiling, I whispered, “Perfect.” Taking another look around, I saw a purple onion and a green pepper. The pepper felt a bit soft but I thought it was workable.

Setting the eggs down next to the onion and bell pepper, I searched for a bowl and a frying pan.

Once I got the eggs beaten and poured over the sautéed onion and peppers, I put a dash of salt on it and some black pepper. Taking a look around, I took in Harmony’s place. I wasn’t sure how I should be feeling. Harmony’s nightmare did a number on me when I heard her screaming out TJ’s name. I almost dropped to my knees on the stairs when I heard it.

Then the way she was looking at me like she wanted me had me even more confused. The look was gone as fast as it came. I was crazy for even thinking about having any sort of relationship with Harmony. She was a friend. That was it.

Bullshit, Ward. She is more than a friend.

Closing my eyes, I thought back to last night when I helped her get undressed. The moment she unclasped her bra and let it fall to the floor, I wanted to take her right then and there. Especially when she began flirting. Luckily, she passed out and I finished getting her dressed while I thought of every scary movie I could think of. And the puke in her hair. The puke in her hair gagged me every time I looked at it. Every time my dick started to come up, I’d look at the puke.

“Daydreaming?”

Jumping practically out of my own skin, I snapped my eyes open and saw Harmony standing in front of me. Her blond hair was pulled up into a sloppy bun that sat on top of her head. She had on a New York Yankees pinstriped baseball jersey and sweatpants that read PINK on the side of them.

Giving me a smile, she sat down on the barstool and looked around me to see what was cooking while I stood there, stunned.

Chuckling, she asked, “Did you find food?”

“What. In. The. Hell. Are. You. Wearing?” I asked slowly.

Looking down at her shirt, Harmony smiled an evil smile. “My favorite baseball team, the Yankees.”

Dropping my mouth open, I let the spatula fall from my hand as I took a few steps back while I covered my heart.

“That’s blasphemy. What…why…how?” I couldn’t even form a sentence.

Tilting her head, Harmony rolled her eyes. “Oh, please. Don’t tell me you’re one of those guys.”

Remembering the eggs, I picked up the spatula, turned and moved them around in the pan before they burned. “What exactly is one of those guys?” I asked as I looked over my shoulder.

Scrunching her nose in the most adorable way, she shrugged her shoulders. “You know. The gung-ho, crazy-for-the-Boston-Red-Sox, doesn’t-change-his-socks-for-fear-the-team-will-lose guy.” Shaking her head, she laughed. I didn’t dare tell her my lucky socks had not been washed or changed since the beginning of the season.

Letting out a nervous laugh, I rolled my eyes. “No. I’m not one of those guys.”

Grinning from ear to ear, Harmony said, “Good. ’Cause I can’t stand those guys. Especially the Irish ones. Oh. My. God. They are the worst. With the way they take their sports so seriously. Good Lord.”

I made a mental note to myself not to tell Harmony I was fifty percent Irish, even though my mother insisted it was more like sixty. I also made a note not to tell her that my dream was to own an Irish pub someday. Sherry hated it when I talked about owning a pub. She made sure to let me know it was beneath her to be married to someone who owned a bar.

“Preston? Are you okay? You’re lost in thought.”

Giving her a quick smile, I nodded. “Yep. Totally fine. Now, if you would please get out two plates and two glasses, I have our breakfast.”

Standing, Harmony laughed as she made her way over and took out two plates. “No way you found enough food to feed us both!”