Weddings make people crazy.

At least, I tried to convince myself that's what mindset I was in when I changed my travel plans and arrived a day earlier to Ellie and Logan's because I heard second-hand that Harper flew in that day... solo.

"Congrats," I mumbled and kissed Camille on her cheek, even as my eyes tracked Harper's retreat. "Sorry for this."

"Jake..." Her lips tugged closer into the cheek I kissed and her eyes shifted to where Harper had stomped off. "I'm not even going to pretend to understand what's between you two this time."

"I don't even get it myself," I groaned quietly and dragged my hands through both my hair, then cupped the back of my neck.

A soft hand patted my shoulder and Camille's blue-gray eyes shone with sympathy. "You've always been in love with her. Even in high school, when we dated. That's why I was so crazy..."

My jaw dropped at her simple but incredibly honest admission.

Her eyes filled with guilt and deepened the tint of gray in them. "I'm sorry. For everything, Jake. We were never good together, I see that now. But when you cheated, I just... didn't handle it well. I'm embarrassed whenever I think about it."

"Don't be." I dropped my hands to my sides. "I'm the one who fucked up."

I'd certainly never cheated since then. While others didn't deserve the fallout, like Brody getting tied to a damn tree, I did. And as much as I wanted to believe I was a lot better off now, I still had obvious room for improvement.

"Cami?" A male voice called out. We both looked over, to a tall, thin guy in a ridiculous pink and black Hawaiian print shirt, white-rimmed brown hat, and khaki shorts. What drew my eyes down were his shin-length white socks under brown sandals.

"Degree in fashion and I can't get my husband to ditch those socks," Camille muttered but a huge smile pulled across her lips. "Jake, this is my husband Tom. He's an architect in Providence."

I fought to keep my eyebrows in place and extended my right hand. "Nice to meet you."

"You too, Jake." Tom's eyes dropped down to my chest, then stomach. "That's uhh... some shirt."

I wasn't at all surprised he'd noticed the horrible Hawaiian print shirt that had been left on my bed as a welcome gift. The bottom part started out dark blue, then faded into light blue, green, yellow, orange, red, then back into dark blue. If the blurry horizontal rainbow stripes weren't enough, then the white flowers laid out in vertical patterns did me in.

But I'd worn it, which surprisingly fit my broad shoulders, so Harper couldn't have missed seeing me if she tried. At the risk that everyone noticed me, I looked like a walking color explosion that someone threw white flowers on top of, like a hiding a spill under a napkin.

"Wait. Are you... Is he, him?" Tom shook my hand but kept his other arm wrapped tightly around Camille's waist.

"The asshole high school boyfriend," I admitted with a sigh. "Camille was telling me you were on your honeymoon, congratulations."

"Which reminds me, why are you here, Jake?" she asked me before Tom responded.

My throat dried at the admission, "I'm walking Ellie down the aisle in two days. She and -"

"Logan Hightower," Camille filled in with a smile. "I always knew those two would be together. He always looked at her like..." she paused then brightened her smile at Tom and tucked herself against his chest. "I get it now."

"Congrats again," I replied sincerely because she practically glowed with happiness, offered a tight smile, and offered zero protest when my feet led me after Harper.

Five weeks ago, Mom had slipped out the fact Harper's Dad booked her room a day earlier than the rest of our wedding party. I hadn't arranged my travel plans yet and needed to talk to her, more than just for the reason I'd promised Jana I would before she left for her next round of nursing education.

So, in a weird turn of events, I packed up, changed my flights, walked Jana to her boarding gate, then second-guessed myself as I waited for my flight out here.

I felt terrible about Mom paying for anything but I was still stuck on my college athletic scholarship allowance. So, with Mom's wedding budget, my room was sufficient but small. It had a view of, ironically, the hotel's dumpsters but was on the top floor, so thankfully high enough that I couldn't smell them when the windows were open.

Hawaii's still Hawaii...

Even if I have to bend halfway over every time someone puts those damn flowers around my neck.

Since I wasn't sure when Harper arrived, I took a direct flight from LAX yesterday afternoon and arrived around midnight. I hadn't seen much of Maui except a beautiful moonlit beach landscape and then a sunrise version of it this morning. The trip threw off my sleep schedule, so I just hung out at one of the pools, napped, and came down for dinner when I ran into Camille in the front lobby.

I didn't have to go very far to find Harper and found her sunk down in a chair near the check-in desk. She cupped one hand over her forehead and murmured softly into her phone. Even as I approached, I couldn't hear what she said but I sure checked her out.

Dressed simply in a strapless, white sundress, my eyes skimmed over the curves in her shoulders, up one side of her neck and down the other. Her hair was bound up, with just a few short, random strands around her ears and my lips pressed together at the slight angle her head tipped and elongated one side of her neck.

With her face half-hidden behind her hand, her cheeks were glowing but her slumped-down posture in the chair made her look both well-rested and tired. From what little I saw, she wore almost no makeup and her full lips fluttered with her quiet words.

Her long legs extended out, her toes pointed in my direction, and her tanned skin gleamed beautifully. Backlit like a halo, the sunset from the windows glowed the space around her and I blinked a few times until I snapped myself out of my gaze on her.

Why is it like just one look wipes out all the shit that happened? Every fucking time my brain short circuits.

Get a grip, Jake.

My cock's shifted movement in my board shorts agreed with that last thought.

Fuck, I'm screwed if I see her in a bathing suit.

With that thought, I reminded myself that I'd come here early, without any wedding distractions, for the sole reason that we talked to each other. Harper had fewer places to run on an island but now that I'd seen her and her me, I wasn't giving her an inch of personal space.

Even if we walked our separate directions after the wedding and I was painfully aware that she'd already moved on in another relationship, personally I needed closure.

My hand reached out, curled around her fingers on her forehead, and lowered her hand. Her long lashes fluttered, painted brown with makeup instead of their dark blonde color, but they framed her sky-blue irises. Her eyes pulled wider the more she looked up at me and the blackness of her pupils engulfed the lighter blue one slow blink of her eyes at a time.

Warmth flowed over my skin, which tingled as her eyes locked onto my stomach and took in the rainbow splashed over my torso. My heart throbbed painfully hard when her eyes lingered on the base of my neck, like she took a breath before her eyes met mine.

When she finally looked right into my eyes, I saw nothing other than the darker ring of blue that surrounded bursts of green embedded within my favorite shade of blue.

My hand moved on its own and threaded my fingers in between hers. The movement snapped her to blink like her eyes moved in slow motion, and her lips moved. "I'll call you back, Eddie."

"We have a lot of shit to talk about," I rushed out and tightened my grip on her hand.

She tugged her hand back, even tried a twist of her wrist, but not even a hurricane could've loosened my grip. A sparkle flashed through her eyes and she sat upright.

There she is.

"Jake," she growled out and tugged again. "If you're rubbing your ridiculously low standards in rebounding with Camille Pa-"

"What?" I paused and smirked at her. "You think I'm with Camille?"

"You're not?" her blonde eyebrows lifted. "Then why did I see -"

"What you saw was me congratulating her on marrying a guy with questionable wardrobe choices," I insisted. "I am not with her, or anyone else for the record. But we need to talk, Harper. And I'm not taking no for an answer."

"Will you take my fist punched in your balls?" she snapped and I smirked at the fire that brightened the green in her eyes. "And you're one to talk about wardrobe choices, did you pick that shirt out in the dark?"

Fuck, maybe if I push enough she'll insult me.

"You owe me an explanation... or two... or seven, firecracker." I tugged on her wrist, and her legs flailed and kicked with each tug until I yanked her up and flush against me. "And I've waited more than long enough to hear them."

Her gasp hit my ear right when her breasts smashed into my chest and my free hand gripped her waist like a reflex. Even in tennis shoes lower than her normal heels or boots, the soft curve of her waist fit perfectly in my hand.

"I'd insult you but it'll take you all day to figure it out," she grumbled up at me with a slight pink flush spread across her cheeks.

My free hand moved up to her cheek. "You can do better than that."

"Okaaaay," she dragged out and stepped closer, until she pressed herself impossibly tight against me. Her breath fanned over my lips as she murmured, "If I'm the trophy then you're definitely the participation award."

"Mmmm," I hummed quietly, then ghosted my lips over hers, pressed them into her cheek, and drew in a breath of her faint vanilla scent. Months ago, I couldn't get rid of that smell in my bedroom but now it relaxed me. So did teasing her with, "Not even close."

"You really should come with a warning label, Jake." She leaned back and frowned but I still caught the faint hitch in her breath.

"C-minus," I shot back with a smirk.

"I was going to say, your portraits are so ugly, they hang themselves, but-"

My eyebrows twitched up. "What about my posters?"

The lightness in her eyes faded before they dropped. "I umm, don't have them anymore. But - but," she started when my lips parted. "I donated them for USC's hospital auction. And don't flatter yourself, I assume they went for five bucks."

Her small gesture spread a flash of warmth through my chest. I'd donated two game jerseys, one home and one away, to the same auction.

At this point, I still realized my hands clutched her tightly against me and my words, "I didn't know Wyatt was your brother when I first met him," rushed out of me before I realized it.

She flinched at the mention of his name, which I wasn't sure why I even said that but Jana had told me that I'd actually met him before Harper had.

The blue in Harper's irises took dominance of their color as they darkened. Her palms shoved into my chest and I released her. "I need a drink," she muttered quietly.

"We're doing this sober," I warned her as she stepped away.

"Fuck yes, I just need to eat and reap some of Dad's hotel benefits," she tossed over her shoulder and shot me a glare through her lowered lashes.

She walked right outside, with long strides past the kids' pool area to the adult's-only one, right up to one of the pool-side cabanas that looked similar to the one I'd been informed were only for elite hotel member guests. Mentally, I calmed myself down but my feet happily bounded after her.

"Uhh, Harper... We can't -" I started when a customer service guy dressed in black pants and a white linen short-sleeved shirt approached us with a tight smile.

"Miss Reynolds." His smile widened. "What can I get you and your... guest tonight?"

"The nightly special," she replied sweetly. "And a glass of whatever that fruity shit was we got at the front door. Two please."

"Fruity shit," I echoed as the pool assistant bowed out and Harper sank down onto one of the two secluded chairs.

"When you're hungry, everything sounds good," she offered with a casual lift of her shoulders and extended her long legs, and crossed her feet at her ankles. "Your fatass is blocking my sunset view, so sit."

I fought the urge that I sat on her chair so we were physically close again, but instead took the other one. "Are you still in contact with Wyatt?"

"Him yes," she murmured quietly and kept her eyes on the oceanside sunset. "My toxic as fuck womb donor, absolutely not."

"I can't blame you..." I paused for a moment. "I know it's not my business, but -"

"You're right." She slipped her feet off her chair between ours, leaned forwards, and rested her elbows on her knees. "It isn't any of your fucking business..."

Before I agreed but still protested, she sighed loudly. "But I guess I owe you an explanation since you had a front-row seat to the Reynolds family shitshow. My... mother thought she caught Dad cheating at work. Miscommunication breakdowns later, she cheated on him, got pregnant with Wyatt, then left Dad and me."

"Fuck," I cursed quietly, although secretly I was glad for Harper and her dad's relationship that he hadn't actually cheated.

"Yep." She rolled her eyes. "Worst part? Her letters all these years, the ones I burned into carbon dust, were about Wyatt. I spent weeks worrying if I was just as fucked up as she was..."

That's why she avoided me. Fuck, I could've helped her, told her I don't see her that way.

My forehead tensed with a frown. "You're nothing like her."

"Really." She huffed quietly. "Bad at communicating? Jumping to conclusions? Loose between the legs? It's bad enough I look so much like her."

"I don't think you're bad at communicating," I offered lamely. "Talking about personal shit, yeah but I never have to wonder what you're thinking."

"Whether I like it or not," she grumbled and reached her hands up when the waiter offered her a pink frozen drink with a pineapple wedge and small umbrella tucked in it. I thanked him for mine, then noticed he also placed a large tray with fresh pineapple and some appetizers on it.

"I need this to be alcoholic," Harper muttered quietly and pulled out her phone. "If I have to listen to this shit again."

"What -" I started when she pulled up a folder she labeled, "Jake's shit." It contained a few video files and copies of my leaked nudes.

"I didn't leak your photos but my phone was hacked the night you had Emily in your room," she spat out angrily. "The third time, technically. The time she was only in her -"

"I didn't sleep with her," I interrupted her. "Or the other one. I found them in my bed like that and, for the record, was kicking them out when you showed up, and we changed all our locks the following week. Where were you during the game?"

"I... oh. Li and I sat in the UCLA nosebleed seats." Her eyes closed and she exhaled loudly. "I didn't... want to face your mom yet. She spammed me over and over about my mom. Then, after the video, I thought it was better not to attract extra attention."

Heat rose in my cheeks and I was glad the sky had darkened so it was less obvious. "I'm sorry about that video."

"After my phone was hacked, I changed it and my number again," she dropped her eyes down. "But I kept the relevant stuff. Go ahead, play it and ruin my last shreds of dignity."

I shifted in my seat until my knees sandwiched hers and my feet planted under her chair. Since she gave me a look not to question her motives, I pressed my thumb on the first file and her eyes closed. Loud party music muffled in the background of rustled movement sounds, until Emily's voice rang out, "Don't act like you're different, Harper."

"I am different." My eyes shot up to Harper's and my mouth dropped open. On the recording, her voice wavered but irritation grew stronger in each word, "Because whatever shit games you play won't work, not on Jake and not on me. Unless you aim to make yourself look pathetically desperate for dick, Jake will never see you like you want him to."

Harper squeezed her eyes tighter shut but I now wore the biggest smugass grin I had.

"You might be a one-night mistake but I've fucked him more than once. I've fucked him so many, many times, for months, fuck probably years, so hard and so fucking raw, that one, two. three, ten, or a hundred slutty bitches like you who only want his dick won't ever measure up to me."

My free hand extended and I interlocked my fingers with hers as her voice hardened into her borderline scary defensive, protective mode. "You fucked up, Emily. You think I'm only concerned about Jake's dick."

"You're not?" I teased and squeezed her hand, which only earned me a string of muttered curse words directed straight at my dick.

Harper's voice on the phone struck right into me but probably not with the effect most people would have felt. "Even though his dick is more than the hype that you probably finger yourself to, he's more than that. He's stubborn, loyal to his family, holds more passion in his pinkie toe about football than I'll ever care about anything, ever, and he's taken all of the shit problems in his life and came out a better, stronger person."

The entire time the video replayed, Harper's nose scrunched up one side and her eyebrows drew together. I however, couldn't have measured the size of my ego; it was that blown up.

Fuck, hearing her defend me sounds even better with her reaction.

Good thing I'm sitting down, otherwise I'd fall over.

"It takes a strong person to get beaten down by your demons, face the parts of yourself you're ashamed of, and even stronger to overcome them. And the fact that you scheming, life-sucking parasites have no fucking clue what I'm really talking about is all the proof that I'll ever need in terms of where you and I stand when it comes to Jake Fucking Harrison."

"Aaaand, that's enough." She pressed pause on the screen. "You don't need to hear the part where I compliment your dick."

Yes I do.

I'd heard that recording, my version of it at least, so many times I had it memorized and pressed my lips together so I didn't mouth the words. Those words, the fiery, stubbornness Harper wrapped around each one, and Jana's sympathetic friendship were the only reasons I hadn't slept around again.

A wet dick wasn't enough for me anymore and I was very, very tempted that I strayed towards that the day of Harper's graduation, when I saw another guy's arm wrapped around her.

Finally face to face with Harper's admission, my hand trembled and shook her phone. My breaths shortened and I fought back the urge that I glared at her. "Fuck, Harper..." I muttered, released her hand, and dragged mine through my hair. "Why the fuck didn't you tell me you defended me?"

"Because it fucking broke me to do it," she whispered and slid back into her seat. I watched as she plated some food and picked at it. Her eyes stayed low and voice quiet but she kept it steady, "I was a mess, Jake. An honestly, truly, fucked up mess. That's one of the lowest moments of my life, how I let my mom unravel me, how irrationally fucked up I was."

Once I'd first said no to temptation, the second no was even easier said, the third even easier, and my indifference took over. Even though every cell of me screamed to get closer to Harper, preferably buried as deep inside her as I got, this time she needed to close the gap. So instead, I just handed her phone back over and clenched my teeth shut.

"My mom is a toxic bitch," Harper mumbled out suddenly, her eyes slightly glossy. "And I've decided I want nothing to do with her in my life unless it's related to Wyatt."

Probably for the best.

While I agreed, I wasn't sure how to reply to that statement, so I just sat silently and rubbed my hand up and down the back of my neck.

Her eyes finally flipped up, completely soaked with guilt and remorse, and found mine. "I'm... sorry. I'm really sorry, Jake."

My 'why couldn't you have just said that months ago,' irritated knee-jerk reaction seemed like the worst response, so I just clamped my mouth tightly shut and looked away. By now, the sun had set and darker navy blue encroached on the orange sunset rays at the water's edge.

"You were fighting through a lot of personal shit," I finally admitted quietly with a sigh and trailed the back of my knuckles down her damp cheek. This round of tears was mine, so I dragged each one away with the pad of my thumb. "And some of it was my fault. Ethan, Brit, Drake, fuck even Emily was my fault."

Whether I deserved all the fallout or not, I couldn't deny I'd been the catalyst for their reactions.

Harper's eyes blinked away the tears, then glazed over with a faraway look. "How was it all related?"

"Ethan and Sarah are brother and sister, as you know," I started and she nodded.

Before I continued, her hands squeezed tightly into my forearm. "I'm so sorry. Ethan approached me on campus and showed me the video before Thanksgiving. With my mom showing up, I just... forgot. Then the day of your game..."

"That's why you weren't surprised." While I knew Harper hadn't been involved with Ethan, her confirmation, even months later, still relaxed my shoulders. "I don't know how they got that video but too many people have it to track down. Ethan already had it when he first approached Drake at the beginning of the season. Brit was Sarah's roommate... her angle first was playing me and Meade against each other."

"Which Friendzone fell for," she muttered, then narrowed her eyes at me. "Both your dicks did."

"You're right," I admitted quietly. "Somehow Burke and Brit corrupted Drake and Emily enough with the idea that you crushed me during the season. That Shayla girl was just a way to catch me cheating on you or something, I'm not sure. Drake gave Burke our house Wi-Fi password, and somehow he... did the rest. He wanted to fuck up the only thing he thought I cared about..."

"Football or your reputation?" she snorted quietly and popped a piece of pineapple in her mouth. After a few chews, she swallowed and cursed.

"No." I shook my head a few times. "They knew you were the only one who could get close enough to me... Can't say I don't understand how Burke feels, even though what he did was bullshit. But fuck, I sure did worse in defense of Ellie."

"Because she was fucking sexually assault," Harper spat out bitterly. "Not at all the same if you had Sarah's consent."

"But what I did to her afterwards was still wrong," I mumbled and looked down at my hands, appreciative that she didn't state the obvious, that I still slept with Sarah when she willingly offered. "I apologized to her the day I hit Burke. Or we did, I guess."

"That shouldn't have felt so satisfying." She smirked, which faded quickly. "I'm sorry I smacked you too. You didn't deserve it... that time."

"Why's it so hard with me, Harper?" I stared at her and sat upright. "But easy with him."

"Eddie?" she whispered softly, then leaned forwards and took her phone back. "He's kind, open, dependable..."

He's safe. Fuck, Hightower was right, she is hiding from herself.

I am not telling him that.

"But you're not in love with him," I challenged her, then swallowed thickly at the glare that blazed brightly in her eyes.

"And how the fuck would you know that," she snapped back. "You haven't seen me in six months, Jake."

With a shift in my hips, I leaned so far forwards that I almost fell out of my seat. My nose barely brushed over the tip of hers, and I felt the warmth that radiated off her. My heart thumped painfully hard from underneath this ridiculous rainbow shirt but I held back before I committed myself to a most likely stupid, impulsive decision.

"Because I see you now..."

No matter how much I wanted her, fuck how much I wanted to yank her back to my room and lock the door all night, I wasn't stupid. I knew that she dated that other guy and that burned hot, ugly flashes of jealousy through me. 

Six months was a long fucking time for self-reflection. The number of mistakes I personally made embarrassed me the more I cycled through them. The most offensive mistake I'd made was I hadn't told Harper sooner about how I really felt about her and speculated that 'what-if' scenario more than any others.

Would she have reacted the same, or been a lot more accepting if her mom hadn't shown up?

Major flaws like I hadn't gone to see Harper straight after the UCLA game to making an immediate statement that she hadn't leaked the photos also pissed me off. In hindsight, Burke's exact plan was to make it look like Harper had violated my privacy.

And only failed because of her involvement. Otherwise, I would've been dumbly blindsided.

Minor mistakes, most often shit like I hadn't complimented Harper enough, I reflected on once, then tossed aside. Once I got through all of my mistakes, I'd gone through Harper's. The part that angered me most, other than her refusal to acknowledge how her own feelings scared her, was how I'd missed the small signs of when she had expressed them.

Looking at her right now, up close and in person, all the mistakes washed away and the subtle signs of Harper's feelings resurfaced.

When she recorded Emily and Burke's idiotic confessions and got him expelled

When she flew my mom in for my games and brought Earl's celebration to my attention.

When she stopped fleeing my room like her ass was on fire.

When she let her guard down and cried in front of me.

I'm distracting myself.

Like always, my feelings hadn't changed, but this time I knew hers hadn't either. From the slight part in her lips as the tip of my nose teased over her cheek, the silent gasp that hitched her chest, and wild pulses in the side of her neck as I pressed my lips lightly there were fueled by more than physical attraction.

Even though my fingers twitched that I grabbed her, my lips tingled that I kissed hers, and my cock throbbed with its own heartache, I pulled my head back and waited. My lips hung two inches above hers, ready and completely willing for her to take them. I was so close, I smelled the fresh pineapple she'd eaten and I wondered how much she tasted like it.

Breath by breath, I waited... painfully.

With one flinch, her lips parted and lifted up in my direction. Even though she didn't close the gap between us, never before had such a small movement soared my ego.

"Call him back," I murmured, leaned forwards, and exhaled into the side of her neck. Her skin raised with goosebumps, flushed pink, and begged that I kissed, licked, and marked every spot.

With how loudly my pulse buzzed in my ears, I barely heard my own words. But the corners of my lips curled up when I saw her cheeks flushed pink and eyes fluttered closed the second time I pulled back.

"Call him," I repeated in a firmer voice and tapped my finger on the back of her phone case. "I'll wait."