A Brush with Love(14)
She was about to drop the damn thing and make a run for it, but Dan’s hand closed around the neck of her jacket. His other hand gently grasped hers, and he spun her away from him. She heard the coat ruffle behind her, then felt him slipping it over her shoulders. Her throat felt dry, and her skin tingled at the fabric’s drag over her arms.
“It’s getting late. I’ll walk you home,” Dan said in a gravelly whisper, dangerously close to her ear.
Her thighs turned liquid-y.
“That’s okay,” she said, taking a big step away from him. “It’s cold, and you should go home.”
He stared at her with a bemused smile. She shifted from foot to foot. “And I have a quick stride. It’s not far. Plenty of … lights … around.”
He continued to stare at her with mock interest as she rambled. He slipped on his own coat.
“So many lights,” she said weakly.
“So you said. Lead the way.”
CHAPTER 7
DAN
“So, what did you do in … finance?” Harper asked as they walked to her apartment, the word coming out like it tasted sour. Dan couldn’t help but laugh.
“I worked as a junior portfolio manager at a firm up in New York.”
Harper glanced at him in surprise. “That sounds important.”
Dan shrugged. If he talked about his old life too much, he’d miss it.
“Why’d you leave?” she asked.
There weren’t enough drawers in the world to unpack that emotional baggage, so he tried to wave off the question.
“You’d probably find the reason as boring as the profession.”
“Maybe … but I doubt it.”
Dan let out a deep breath, not wanting to go there. “It’s a long story. My dad got sick, and I came back to help my mom during the transition. They … She’s a dentist. She worked part-time at his practice, but now she’s the only one running it, and she’s overwhelmed. She seems to think she’s incapable of handling it on her own and she’ll lose the whole thing. She … suggested I make a career change and go into the family business.” He was quiet for a moment before adding, “Persuasive woman.”
“Did your dad … Is he okay?”
“He passed away,” Dan said without emotion. Because he didn’t feel any.
But the sadness that filled Harper’s eyes made him want to take the words back.
“Hey, it’s okay,” he said, tucking an arm around her shoulders and squeezing. “We weren’t close. It wasn’t a big deal.” Only changed the trajectory of his life and saddled him with an overwhelming sense of duty to his mom. No big deal at all.
“Oh,” she said softly, pushing her hair behind her ears. They continued walking in a loaded silence before she spoke again. “I … I lost my mom when I was twelve. If you ever want to talk about your dad…”
“I don’t,” he said, the words sharper than he’d intended. Harper flinched, blinking up at him.
They looked at each other, the heavy, shared burden simultaneously bonding them together and wedging them apart. Dan didn’t say anything more, and they both bent their heads, staring at the ground as they walked.
“This is me,” Harper said, gesturing at an old, converted brownstone on the corner, holiday lights strung around the railing at the front steps.
Dan followed her up the stoop, and Harper turned to look at him. They lingered outside her door for a beat too long, alternating between stolen glances and staring at their feet.
Dan knew this marked the definitive end to any real reason for them to spend time together, and a sharp pang of dread punched at his ribs.
Harper fiddled with her keys but didn’t move to go inside, and Dan clung to the hope that maybe she didn’t want the night to end either.
He pushed the hair off his forehead and let out a deep breath, watching the puff of mist it created.
“So, what are you studying for tonight?” he asked.
“Advanced pathology,” she answered automatically. “You?”
“This week is immunology … I think. It’s hard to keep track,” he said, dragging a hand across the back of his neck. “Pretty overwhelming.”
“It’s like drinking from a fire hose.”
Dan chuckled, but his heart sank. He felt the conversation ebbing, and he scrambled for the best way to ask to see her again.
“Do you want to come upstairs?” Harper practically shouted the words at him, and he blinked at her in surprise.
“To study,” she added quickly. “I can make … coffee. Or something.” She looked up at the sky like she was begging for help.
“Coffee would be great,” he said, trying to control the spark of happiness that ignited in his chest.
Harper’s eyes flicked to his face, and she nodded. She jammed her key into the lock, and Dan noticed the shakiness of her hands. Her whole body seemed to be vibrating.
She opened the door, and they walked across the foyer to the elevator. They waited for it in tense silence, Harper tracing random patterns on the floor with the toe of her shoe.
The energy between them shifted dramatically, and Dan worked to keep his own body still. He refused to walk into her apartment with any assumptions. Even if this turned out to be the world’s most platonic late-night coffee, it still meant more time with Harper. But he couldn’t completely ignore the hope that it would be something … more.