Fuck.
I’m really falling in love with Harrison Connor.
I had no idea what to do about it.
“Morgan…” Taylor murmured my name.
“I should just end it, right?” I asked. “I should just cut things off with him before things get any worse.”
Taylor reached his hand over toward mine before he covered my palm with his own. “Does he make you happy?”
“Yes,” I admitted. “He makes me happier than I’ve been in a long time.”
“That’s all that matters.” Taylor smiled. “And even if you two do end up calling everything off in a few days, why not enjoy the time you have left together? Besides, if you cut things off with him today, how would that make you feel?”
“Bad,” I replied. “Drowning myself in ice cream bad.”
“Then, don’t cut him off,” Taylor instructed. “And give him a chance, okay? He might surprise you.”
“And if he just ends up leaving town and I never hear from him again?”
“You’ll always have the memories,” Taylor answered. “If you’re going to get hurt, either way, why not go with the option where you get to spend more time with someone who makes you feel good?”
“When did you get so wise?” I smirked back at Taylor. “Is that Cole rubbing off on you?”
Taylor grinned. “If you want me to talk about Cole rubbing off on me, it’s going to take a few drinks—”
“No!” I playfully yanked my hand away from Taylor’s. “No, I never want to hear about Cole rubbing off on you. Please. Spare me the details of your sex life.”
Taylor chuckled again before he flipped to the second page of the wine list.
14
Harrison
“Here. Try this,” Morgan said as he passed me a bowl of green beans.
Morgan and I were standing in his apartment kitchen. I’d been scrolling on my phone as Morgan moved around the room, taking out plates and going through his refrigerator.
“I’ve had green beans before,” I replied, taking the bowl into my hands. “Is this your way of telling me that you think I need to eat more veggies?”
“First of all, I think that everyone needs to eat more veggies,” Morgan joked. “But no. I just wanted to see if you like it. I was going to make us some salmon for dinner and thought that might taste good as the side.”
“A chef? Asking for the opinion of a peasant?” I grinned. “You must think pretty highly of my palette.”
“Of course, I think highly of your palette,” Morgan answered. “Cooking is just like art, you know. If you don’t care what people think about your art, you can just keep your pieces on the wall at home. But if you want to be a great artist, you have to share your work with the world.” Morgan smiled before he gave me a quick kiss on the cheek. “Or in this case, you have to share your work with peasants.”
I laughed as I grabbed a fork off the counter beside me. I scooped up a few green beans with the fork, taste-testing Morgan’s dish.
I hummed in approval as I took another bite. “This is really good. What’s in this?”
“Lemon and chili powder,” Morgan said. “I just wanted to give it a little kick, to go along with the fish. I can always make it spicier if you want—”
I cut off Morgan with a soft kiss against his lips. “You don’t have to change anything about the recipe. It’s perfect.”
Just like you.
It was getting harder and harder for me to not tell Morgan exactly what was on my mind. I still didn’t know how to describe what I was feeling for him, but I knew that it was different, something that I’d never felt for anyone before.
But I also knew that I was leaving soon. How could I confess something that felt so huge to Morgan when I wasn’t going to be sticking around? It seemed cruel.
Although, it was definitely possible that I was just trying to give myself an easy out, too. If I never told Morgan how he made me feel, how much I wanted to mean something to him, then I never had to find out if Morgan didn’t feel the same way about me.
It would’ve crushed me if Morgan only saw me as a hookup, if I told him that I craved being close to him and he just frowned and told me that he thought I was okay with us not being anything too serious.
“You look like you’re thinking about something…” Morgan whispered as he looked up at me.
You, Morgan. Always you.
I opened my mouth to say something in response, but my phone started to ring in my hand. Grateful for the momentary distraction, I answered the call, without even looking at the caller ID.
“Hello?”
“Oh, thank God!” Dirk let out a sigh of relief on the other end of the line. “I wasn’t sure if this number was still good. Your sister gave me your number like a billion years ago, and people change carriers more often these days—”
“Dirk? What’s going on?” I asked, suppressing the rising panic in my chest. “Is something going on with my sister?”
“I think Kimmie just left me? She walked out on me about an hour ago, and I don’t think she’s coming back.” Dirk sounded confused. “We were at the flower shop, double-checking the flowers, and she just… started crying—”
“What kind of flowers were you looking at?” I pressed.
“Uh, I think we were looking at carnations? But I don’t see why that’s important—”
“Did she say anything? Before she left?”
“I think she mentioned something about her grandmother?” Dirk answered. “But that was the last thing she said before she told me that she didn’t want to marry me.”
Dirk sighed again, although this time, I could’ve sworn that I heard him sniffle, too. “Do you have any idea where she could’ve gone, Harrison? I just want to make sure she’s safe. If she was crying like that, I’m worried she wasn’t paying attention to the road or—”
“I’ll help you look for her,” I assured him. “Are you still at the flower shop?”
“No. I’m back at our apartment now.”
“I’ll be there in ten minutes,” I said, ending the call.
“Where are you going?” Morgan asked. “Is everything okay?”
“My sister went M.I.A.,” I explained. “Dirk said they were looking at flowers and she decided she didn’t want to marry him anymore. She’s been gone for about an hour. No idea where she went.”
“Oh.” Morgan’s face fell. “Shit. Do you want me to help look for her?”
“You don’t have to get involved, if you don’t want to,” I replied. “Besides, Kimmie is your client. I’d understand if you didn’t want to cross any lines—”
“Kimmie is my client, sure, but she’s your sister. And you’re my—” Morgan stopped himself, mid-sentence. “I mean… it doesn’t matter if she’s my client. I still care about making sure she’s safe. I’m going to help you find her.”
What am I to you, Morgan?