Dan fisted his hands in his hair, pacing the small space and trying to adjust his aching cock to a more comfortable position. The walls felt close and suffocating, and he wanted to punch a hole through every inch of them.
He moved to the table, shoving his things into his bag and slamming the chair into place. One of the legs caught on something and he bent to pick it up. One of Harper’s notebooks. Dan thumbed through it. Her small, curvy letters filled every inch of the pages, notes and diagrams scribbled into connections only her brilliant mind seemed able to decipher. He closed the book and tossed it into his backpack with the rest of his things.
He left the study room and plowed through the school, wanting to escape its stale air and taunting echoes. The cold night ripped at his skin as he stepped outside. He wanted more of the feeling. It was sharp and precise and worked to erase the softness of Harper’s touch. He walked without direction, every step taking him somewhere farther from that room. It didn’t really matter where.
It was a weird sensation, having the thing he wanted most also be what stood in the way. He’d left all the doors wide open for Harper, encouraging her to step inside. And she had. Repeatedly. She went in, wrecked the place, and left, only caring about her stake in the game, disregarding that Dan had something to lose too.
He’d kept his mouth shut and his head down, letting her take the lead, the constant bystander in his own life. It had done nothing but leave him a confused mess. Harper would expose herself just enough to screw with his head, but as soon as it felt too real, she ran scared and left him hanging out to dry, sitting like an idiot with his heart on his sleeve.
Hiding was no longer an option. If Dan was forced to face the reality of what he felt every fucking time she entered the room, she would too. She couldn’t keep offering hints and clues that maybe she felt the same way, just to snatch hope from his grip.
His feet now had a purpose, and they weren’t leaving their destination without answers. Dan would wait for Harper, but not with the games. Not with the confusion. He’d give her everything or wait with nothing, but this in-between had to end.
He punched her door buzzer and waited, tapping his foot against the pavement as the seconds ticked by.
“Hello?”
“You left your notebook.” Dan’s voice sounded coarse to his own ears. Beats of silence marked the seconds, and he almost jammed his finger against the buzzer again before her voice crackled back through the intercom.
“I’ll come down and get it.”
“I’ll come up.”
“No, it’s fine. I’ll—”
“Let me up, Harper.”
The silence stretched on, and Dan felt blood throbbing in his temples. He could wait all night. Harper must have sensed she was fighting a losing battle, and she buzzed him in. Dan ripped open the door and bounded up the stairs in an effort to tamp down the energy pulsing just under his skin.
He knocked on Harper’s door, using his other hand to prop himself against the frame. She opened it just wide enough to expose half of her body. She wasn’t inviting him in.
Dan instinctively leaned closer. She’d so thoroughly invaded his heart and commandeered his thoughts that the pretense of physical space felt superfluous. Harper held out her hand for the notebook, her eyes looking everywhere but at him. Dan tilted his head, forcing her to meet his gaze.
“I want to talk about what happened.”
A small puff of air left her lips, and her hand fell limply at her side. She dropped her forehead against the edge of the door and scratched her thumbnail along the wood.
“There’s nothing to talk about,” she said at last.
The words were quiet, but their impact reverberated against Dan’s chest. He stepped closer.
“Really? Because I think there is.”
Energy poured off Harper, thrumming beneath her skin, electricity desperate to break free. Dan wanted to get close enough that it burned him.
“And I also don’t think you get to decide for both of us anymore,” he added. Her eyes shot to his face, and he leaned in closer. “Everything with you is one step forward, thirty steps back. I can’t play this game.”
Dan put his palm against the door and gave it a push. Harper let it swing open and took a step back. She glared up at him, hands fisted at her sides. Dan stepped into the apartment and shut the door. She backed up against the wall, chin raised as their eyes locked.
“Don’t give me that bullshit,” she snapped. “I told you from the start I can’t do anything more than friendship. You’re the one who wants more. You’re the one pushing this.”