A/N: Mature content. ❤️🛁🤪

Why can't I feel my fingers?

I pried open my heavy-lidded eyes with a low groan and realized my left arm was uncharacteristically cold and numb. Any attempts that I wiggled my fingers only produced icy, needle-like pin pricks into my hand, so I pulled on it, but a weight pressed between my armpit and elbow pinned it in place.

At least it's not my throwing arm's hand.

With a few flicks, each of my fingers felt numb, cold, and swollen but I was completely okay with that when I saw Harper laid next to me.

Fuck yes, she's still here.

A giddy rush ran through me as I blinked her sleeping form into focus. Her lashes laid on her cheeks, in their naturally dark blonde color that matched the random dots of freckles on her nose. With zero shame, I gently lifted up the sheets and peeked at what I hoped pressed up against my side.

Even better, she's still naked.

In a solemn reminder of why she'd come over here, and finally fucking stayed, my eyes roamed over her nose and cheeks, which were pink and slightly swollen.

Fuck, how could her mom just show up?

And I wasn't here for her when it happened.

Anger, more than I'd ever felt for someone I barely knew, surged up inside my gut. My chest constricted tighter the more I studied her bare, pink, slightly parted open lips and listened to the soft, even breaths that passed through them.

The musky, damp smell of sex and perspiration lingered on both of us, but her nearby shoulder also smelled faintly of vanilla and chlorine.

She must've been at the pool but how the fuck did her mom even find her?

While she hadn't told me any details, my mind reeled through the unknown.

And why the fuck is she even showing up... Does she need a kidney?

My functional hand's palm rubbed my forehead when I realized a fact I should've noticed a lot earlier, then mentally cursed myself repeatedly.

Her mom left ten years ago. No wonder she's been a bit... emotional, for her.

Fuck, I should've paid more attention.

My eyes slid closed and I used a few slow, deep breaths until my heartbeat returned to normal.

And fuck, now her mom's here. Who wouldn't feel fucked up by that?

I need to calm down, mentally I'm swearing a lot.

My phone buzzed from where it sat on my dresser. The reminder that today was Monday released a low groan from my chest, but the seven-forty-eight time on my clock showed that we had enough time to get to class.

I hate to wake her up but she probably wants a shower.

"Hey..." I murmured softly and stroked my operable fingers down her cheek. Her skin was so soft and freckles distracted my wakeup effort when a weird urge that I counted them came over me.

While I used gloves during both games and practices, the pads of my fingers were still calloused from football. When her lashes fluttered, I realized it probably felt like I dragged sandpaper over her skin.

I rotated my wrist and stroked the first knuckles on my index and middle fingers down the outline of her cheek. Her lips parted further open and her voice rasped out, "The fuck makes you think I like being petted? Seriously, if you want to jerk off with that hand ever again, then -"

"It's my throwing hand," I teased, leaned over, and planted a kiss into the middle of her forehead. Her only response was she groaned and pressed her nose into the side of my pec muscle, which was actually cute.

Her blonde hair looked tangled and messy, so I swept a few strands off her forehead. After I dragged my fingers down through her hair, they tangled and snagged on a knot.

"Oww," she grumbled into my side and clamped her hand over her head, near the roots I tugged on.

"Sorry," I mumbled and disentangled my fingers, unfortunately not before I yanked her hair again... twice.

She groaned loudly and rolled off my arm. I shook out my hand, which felt twenty times heavier than normal, and flicked my fingers back to life.

My stomach knotted at the sight of Harper's curled up form. The way her shoulders rounded and knees tucked up into her chest highlighted the bumps in her spine. When I saw the faint outline of her ribs when she breathed in, I realized I wasn't sure if she'd eaten yesterday.

Fixing that this morning.

The need that I said something, anything, offered her words that made her feel better came over me. I coughed quietly because I was in no position to assure her that things were going to be okay. Ties with friends were more easily cut, as Kieran had painfully done to me, and emotional ties with family could be fractured or even severed, but a connection always existed.

Since Harper and I met in seventh grade, I hadn't known her mom very well. We both had early birthdays, mine in September and hers October, and her mom had left the year before we'd met.

Just like now, she hadn't shown any signs that her mom's departure affected her.

I have no idea what to say but fuck, she's still my little spoon.

I pressed my knees into the bed and shuffled my hips closer until my thighs brushed against her butt. I probably liked this position more than I should have but she was soft and warm and... I don't know, comfortable. My cock for sure liked being nestled between her ass cheeks. If anyone asked why I liked this, then my answer was it made her kneeing me in the balls more difficult.

My head leaned down to where her left hand clamped onto her shoulder and I pressed my lips into the soft skin in the valley between her first and middle knuckles. Her fingers tightened their clenched grip on her shoulders, but she laid still. I moved over to the next finger gap and brushed my lips over the soft dip. By the time I reached her pink finger, she rolled over and her eyes found mine.

The most beautiful, light-aquamarine color gazed up at me, highlighted by the flecks of green streaked over the blue. The redness in their corners, gray half-circles under her eyes, and puffiness in her eyelids all suggested she hadn't slept as well as I had. The corners of my mouth drew down but I was all the more glad she'd stayed.

"Do you want a shower?" I blurted out, right into her face.

She blinked a few times before her lips twitched, but not into a smile. "Do I look that bad?"

"No." I smiled for the both of us and cupped her cheek with my palm. "I'd tell you how beautiful you look but you'd probably -"

"Knee you in the balls," she grumbled.

"- That." I grinned and slid out of bed around her. "Come on, sleepyass."

"Fuck..." She groaned quietly, sat up, and cupped her forehead in her palms. "What I need is either some headache medicine or the strongest alcohol you have in the house to make someone think you're handsome first thing in the morning."

"There's some in the medicine cabinet." I offered with an outstretched hand, my palm up. "Ibuprofen, I mean."

Finally, the corners of her lips curled up. "Thought you only kept condoms in there."

"I do." I laughed and grabbed us some towels. "But Drake gets headaches sometimes from staring at screens too much. Come on, shower and breakfast. It'll help."

Her head shifted slightly sideways and her eyebrows raised. "What are you getting out of this... niceness? It's creepy on you, Jake."

Fuck if I know.

"I can be nice," I teased her and curled my fingers inward. "Besides, this way I can stare at your tits, all wet and naked."

"You're so..." she paused but grounded her feet and stood up. My gut tightened and cock practically waved good morning when the sheet slipped off her naked body. Both of her two pink nipples pebbled up and waved back, hopefully just not from the cooler air hitting them. "...Weird sometimes."

I turned around at the weakest insult I'd ever heard from her and wrapped a towel around her shoulders. With a slight tug, I pulled her into me and smacked my lips hard over hers. Hinged at my hips, I bent over and rummaged in her bag until I found a bottle of shampoo. "You can do better than that, firecracker."

"Fine," she huffed with a loud breath, then reached forwards and landed a smack on my right ass cheek. My back hole clenched as her finger traced around the sensitive ridges. "Make any comments about my tits and I'll ram a bar of soap so hard in here that you'll feel like my prison bitch."

After I stood up with a jolt, my free hand's fingers threaded between hers. "Much better."

Harper stayed entirely quiet as we walked down the hallway. I couldn't have cared less who saw me naked because it was just me and Drake up here, but I was glad Harper wrapped herself up. Her eyes averted down to the floor and she kept her chin tucked, even after she swallowed some pain relievers and stood under the shower spray.

Her blonde hair darkened and stuck in wet strings against the side of her neck, but she just with her elbows hugged into her stomach. My chest hurt at the sight, so I grabbed her shampoo and squeezed a blob into one palm. Once I worked up some lather, I rubbed it into her hair with light scratches of my fingertips into her scalp.

And, of course, I enjoyed the view of her body, wet, bubbled up with soap and shampoo, and right in full-view. The pink peaks of her nipples poked through the white film of soap that covered her before the water rinsed it away.

I had no idea if she closed her eyes under the weight of what happened yesterday, she enjoyed a scalp massages, or I'd just washed shampoo in her eyes, but she stood completely still with her eyes squeezed shut. Her shoulders curled forwards, which rounded her upper back, so I leaned forwards and hugged her gently against my chest.

My cock, fully stiff, pressed against her navel. Technically, since I'd woken up, I'd shifted between fully hard and semi but I ignored it and secured my forearms around her lower back. The hardness of her forehead pressed into my shoulder. I almost missed her quiet sigh as soft splatters of the water hit the top of her head and flicked into my cheek.

I groaned loudly when her hands wrapped around my erection, one at the head and the other the base. The frictioned contact, plus the tickles of water that ran down my strained tight skin, nearly rolled my eyes back.

"Harper," a low warning rumbled out of me because fuck, the corkscrew motions she applied, combined with the hot, wet water, felt better than when I tugged myself off in the mornings. "We don't -"

Her hands stopped and she pulled them back. I threaded my hand up between her legs and gently cupped her mound, which felt soft and warm as normal. "Does this hurt?"

Her head shook but shoulders tensed, so I gently stroked over her center slit, rolled the smooth folds in the pads of my fingers, and massaged them carefully. In a test, I dipped my index finger lower and circled her entrance, then teased the tip into her warm, wet arousal.

With trembling fingers, Harper's hand lifted up to my shoulders, where she clamped them down and held on. I kept the softest dips in and out of her because her face wrenched up tightly. The trails of water almost hid the tears that rolled out the corners of her eyes, until she opened them and looked at me, her irises glossy like mirrors.

"Harper..." I removed my hand, rinsed off my finger, and swiped at her tears. "Tell me what you need."

"A hard fuck," she choked out in a raspy voice. Her nose turned pink and she sniffled, then wiped at it with the back of her hand.

My lectured, 'I don't think that's the answer' died on my tongue as I wiped away tear after tear. In a quiet, gentle voice I barely recognized out of my mouth, I pressed, "Is that what you need?"

Her only answer was that she nodded, then squeezed her eyes closed and turned around. She rounded her back and tucked in her stomach, like she curled herself inward, then hinged over and presented her ass to me.

Fuck, this doesn't feel right...

"You sure, Harper?" One of my hands palmed her lower back, which trembled slightly, while I threaded the other hand between her folds. They were slicked wet, not from the shower water, and her hips pushed back against my fingers as I gently pushed them inside and massaged along her inner walls.

"Yes!" she snapped loudly as her hips chased my fingers' movements.

"Fine, I'll grab -" I muttered when her head shook back and forth.

"Just do it," she pleaded softly, in a tortured voice that tore into my chest.

I threaded the head of my cock between her folds, parted them, then gently pushed forwards. Her entrance enlarged and sucked me inside with a heated pressure like always. Her inner muscles clamped down, on purpose from her I assumed, so I kept my fingers low and rubbed over her outer folds as I pressed myself inside.

"It's not going to be rough," I warned her because she had to have been at least a little sore from last night's round. If the skin on my balls felt a little slapped up then her insides had to sting, right?

Probably best I don't ask her.

With my free hand I reached up and shifted the shower head's angle so the water sprayed on the wall instead of her back. Her lower back arched slightly when I wrapped both my hands around her hips. With as gentle of pushes as I had in me, I plunged deep inside her and dragged myself out. She pressed her hips back on every entrance but, other than a randomly choked out sob, stayed entirely quiet.

Her spine trembled and shoulders tensed as I pushed inside her but, like usual, her arousal coated me from tip to base. Her walls squeezed around my shaft with heated pulses and I felt every one of them barrier-free.

I'd never felt more like a selfish asshole than I did at that moment, to the point where I felt borderline disgusted with myself because I physically enjoyed every thrust, every throbbed sensation, but I gave her what she wanted. In and out, I pushed into her and gently tugged her back. I increased the pace only when she moaned quietly, then slicked over my cock and relaxed her spine. A few more bucks later, my balls drew upwards, so I pulled myself out, fisted my base, and came all over her lower back.

Harper barked out a sarcastic laugh. "Did you just pull out and pray on me?"

My chest heaved with uneven pants as my eyes tracked the sight of the white streams of fluid that dripped down her backside, so I redirected the shower head and washed it away. Even with my brain fogged over and forehead dotted with perspiration, I wiped her clean, then palmed both hands onto her lower back and massaged gently.

She stayed down, hinged over as I rubbed over her back, ribs, up her spine, and between her knotted shoulder blades. With a gentle tug, I brought her up to standing, pulled her shoulder blades into my chest, and wrapped my arms around her stomach.

"I'm not going to tell you it's going to be okay," I murmured into the side of her neck, followed by my lips pressed into her damp skin. "But I'll be there with you if you want."

Her head dipped low but hands rested over mine. In the quietest, most defeated voice I'd ever heard from her, she whispered, "Thanks."

"Can I drive you to class?" I asked and handed Harper a breakfast plate. Since I assumed that she wanted some privacy, I'd plated a few options for her and brought them up here but she only stared at the plate with a blank expression and glazed over eyes.

"No, I drove," she murmured and shook her head.

"Come on, you need to get to class." I clamped my teeth down at the eight-thirty time on my clock and extended one of my hands to her. She took it gently, so I grabbed her bag and offered again, "Sure you don't need me to come? I can run up and get your stuff."

"No." She shook her head as I also grabbed my bag for this morning's classes and locked my bedroom door.

"Tough, firecracker." I shook my head a few times at the still-full plate her hands shoved at me and led her downstairs. "I don't want you driving and you can eat."

"What about -" she started once we got outside, her eyes lifted up to where her car was parked.

"I'll catch a ride from one of the guys," I promised as we walked across the street and she unlocked her car. She silently nodded, so I tossed out stuff in the back seat and took the driver's side.

The entire ride back was dead silent, except for the hummed background noise of her radio, her fork as it slid around the plate on her lap, and her phone, which buzzed repeatedly. She ignored it, just fisted her hand into her cheek and rested her elbow on the passenger's side door. Her other hand stayed in mine, our fingers intertwined. I lifted and kissed it every time I nagged her to eat but she ignored my efforts.

"You sure you don't want to answer that?" When stopped at a light, I nodded at her car's dashboard, which read 'Dad' for the fourteenth time since we'd left my house.

"No," she replied dryly, then reached over and hit the 'accept call' on the screen. "What Dad."

"Harper?" his voice sounded uncharacteristically emotional, full of concern. "Thank goodness, I've been trying to reach you. Your mother -"

"Yeah," she spat out the word like acid burned her tongue. "Thanks for the heads up."

"I didn't know, honestly Harps," Mr. Reynolds replied with a loud sigh. "She just called me, trying to locate you. Are you all right?"

"How the fuck do you think I'm feeling," she spat out.

"I'm coming down there," he pressed in an insistent voice. "Grace already assured me she's fine changing up our plans. I'm switching our flight right now -"

"Dad, don't." She frowned, rubbed her free hand over her forehead, and pinched her tear ducts. "No, don't change it. And no, fuck no, please don't tell Grace to -"

"Not negotiable, Harps," her dad pressed with a tone of finality. "I've already changed them."

Harper's eyes fluttered closed and she replied in a flat, almost bored tone of voice. "Right. Do whatever you want, I need to go to class."

Like I promised, I parked Harper's car, ran up to her room and grabbed her bag that her roommate had nicely packed for her, and added in some granola bars in case she got hungry. I nestled her hand inside mine as I walked her to class, her fingers threaded in between mine. While my hand gripped hers tightly, hers hung limp and lifeless in mine, just like the look that hung in her eyes by the time she headed up the stairs to the School of Law Building. Her entire arm drooped down to her side when she dragged her hand away and shuffled up the stairs.

"Hey," I called after her. She turned and I swallowed hard when her eyes dully looked down at me. "I'll be here when you're done, okay?"

Her only answer was that she turned and retreated into her building. After a quick curse word and text message from my ride, I watched as she disappeared from view. Right when I turned, I almost ran over an older woman who looked just like Harper, only about twenty years older.

Fuck, not that I didn't believe Harper but she really is here.

"Excuse me." She quietly gasped, then stepped back and her sky-blue eyes studied me. "Are you... Jacob Harrison?"

"Yeah," I mumbled and stepped away when her presence drew me to the obvious fact. "You're Harper's mom, aren't you?"

"Yes, and it's really important that I speak with her," her voice flooded with the same sadness that soaked her light blue irises. "I wouldn't be here if it wasn't."

My eyes narrowed into thin slits at the same time my fists squeezed tight. "I won't convince her of anything she doesn't want to do, or even try to talk her into it."

"All I want is ten minutes," she begged me, her hands clasped around my upper arm.

I shook her cold fingers off with an upward jerk of my arm. "I'm not the one you need to convince."

As my phone buzzed in my pocket with Evan's location, I excused myself and stepped away. My fists tightened the more I stepped away and a heaviness settled inside my chest with each step I put between me and Harper's mom.

Now I'm definitely going to be here when her class is out.

Unbelievable.