7
HARPER
This hadn’t gone as I’d expected. I was sitting in Reed’s lap crying, my skirt all but bunched about my waist.
I didn’t cry. There hadn’t been any tears left from two years ago. I’d thought they were all gone, but no. Somehow Reed—god, the one man I never expected—turned me into a damn faucet. All because he’d refused to f**k me.
I had no idea how long I cried. Minutes? Hours? The entire time, he just sat there and rubbed my back, my cheek pressed into his chest. He was warm, his big hands comforting, and I’d felt… protected. He’d allowed me to let my guard down, and he’d seen me at my worst. I could only imagine what he thought of me.
I sat up quickly, almost bumping his chin doing so. With my fingers, I wiped the tears from my cheeks. I was sure my mascara stained them. God
