But Harper was scared.
CHAPTER 17
DAN
Dan was excited.
Like, stupid excited. For something school-related. He didn’t even recognize himself.
He spent most of the day pacing aimlessly around his apartment, doing dishes, scrubbing floors, double-checking all the clocks with his phone because it seemed impossible for time to actually move that slowly.
All the while, Alex trailed him like a nervous puppy, asking an endless slew of questions.
“You sure it’s chill if I come along with your group?”
“So … Thu’s gonna be there, right?”
“Should I wear the silver tie or the yellow tie?”
“You said you think Thu will be there?”
“Hey, do you know if Thu has a boyfriend?”
Dan had responded curtly with “Yes. Yes. Silver. Yes,” and “How the hell would I know?” before getting so annoyed that he subjected himself to a long run in the freezing winter day.
By the time he returned home, he’d burned off enough restless energy and wasted enough time that he could start getting ready. He hopped into the shower, letting the hot water ease the tension in his shoulders as his thoughts inevitably drifted to Harper, and the ultimate fantasy of having her in there with him, her slick body beneath his hands. Too soon the water started to cool, and he stepped out, wrapping a towel around his hips.
He moved to the sink and wiped condensation from the mirror before lathering shaving cream over his stubble. He dragged the razor down his cheek, letting himself get lost in the rhythm of the movements as his mind continued to feast on fantasies of Harper. Her lips. Her touch. Her hands.
He was absorbed in a daydream of what it would feel like to press his shaved cheeks between her thighs when Alex pounded on the door.
“Dude, you almost done? I have to shit.”
Poof.
His fantasy （and erection） disappeared without a trace.
Before Dan even answered, Alex threw open the door.
“Sorry, man, but I can’t wait. I got that gas station sushi again for lunch,” he said, frantically shuffling for the toilet.
Dan closed his eyes and did a quick calculation on how many weeks until his lease was up. Alex was a great friend but a disgusting person to live with.
“Was last time not lesson enough?” Dan asked, setting his razor down and moving into the hall as Alex found noisy relief. Maybe finding a sublease wouldn’t be that bad?
“I know but it’s so cheap. And it tastes good going down,” Alex said, the sentiment emphasized by an exceptionally loud fart.
Sleeping on the streets might even be something to consider. He was glad the door was closed, but noise still traveled.
“So, you excited for tonight?” Alex asked.
“No, don’t worry, make yourself comfortable. Let’s chitchat while you destroy our bathroom. Not like I was doing anything in there. I wanted a half-shaved look anyway.”
Alex wasn’t perturbed. “Think you’ll finally get lucky tonight with Harper?”
“We’re just friends,” Dan said, sounding unconvincing even to himself. He wasn’t about to tell Alex how desperately he hoped tonight changed things.
“Sure, dude,” Alex responded dryly. “Seriously, how long are you going to wait it out with her? You need to get laid. Bad.”
Dan sighed. “I’m sorry, Alex, but it bothers me that I’m the only one uncomfortable with us having this conversation while you’re bottomless. Can you hurry up?”
With a flush and brief handwashing, Alex emerged, looking relieved and a little sweaty. “All I’m saying is, there are plenty of hot girls out there. You can’t wait on one woman forever.”
Dan shrugged as he went back into the bathroom. For Harper, he could.
After he finished shaving, he went to his room, flicking through his closet. He pushed to the back, retrieving his nice suits and dress shirts.
He used to dress up every day for his job, and he missed the way the suits always made him feel purposeful and put together. He pulled out his favorite black suit—a classic cut, tailored to sleek perfection.
It used to be his lucky suit. He’d wear it to important meetings or lunches with big clients. Pulling that jacket on in the mornings in his shoebox-sized apartment gave him a sense of purpose, like he was suiting up for a battle he was guaranteed to win.
The version of Dan who’d worn that suit had felt alive, fulfilled—every day a chance to do what he loved: talk to people, manipulate numbers, make decisions, put together all the moving pieces.