He kept looking at me while he talked. “The whole incident make me think about everything I hadn’t done with my life, and whether I was being who I wanted to be.”
“Win a Cup?” I offered, trying to lighten the mood.
Harlan snorted and grinned. “Yeah. Win a Cup. I still want to do that.”
“Did either of you get hurt?” the interviewer asked.
“Kinda,” I admitted. “He fell on top of me and he’s a little bigger than me.”
Harlan squeezed my thigh. “Sorry.”
My heart fluttered, just like it did every other time he touched me. I couldn’t let him work me up publicly like this. Time to take my own advice.
Clear your head.
“So, Emma, what was going through your mind when you saw him in a dangerous situation?”
My jaw flapped. This was supposed to be a light and breezy interview, not some emotional upheaval. I fixed my face into a smile. “I mean, this guy gives me hell all the time, but I didn’t want something bad to happen to him.”
“That’s a relief,” Harlan laughed.
The interviewer was silent, waiting for me to expand on that feeling.
“And yeah, I couldn’t just let him get hurt without trying to do something about it.”
Harlan puffed out his lip, and though he was trying to joke, there was some sincerity to his tone. “Aw, Em. I wouldn’t let you get hurt either.”
We were so close to each other that I could fall into his lap. What was I doing? I was giving in to his charm. People would see this and make judgments. They might think something was happening between us.
As tender as I felt toward him, I couldn’t let it go on like this. “Well, you did hurt me,” I pointed out.
“It was an accident!” he squealed, putting his hands out. “You pulled me down!”
I tipped my head at him. Back to classic Royce. Just like the day of the accident, fantasy land playtime was over. “Did I save your life or not?”
“I mean, yeah, you did—” he started with an eye roll.
“Which hurt me,” I said over him. “So, youwouldhurt me.”
He laughed and rolled his eyes. “Fine. You win. But I wouldn’t hurt you on purpose.” He got more serious again, deep blue eyes settling on mine. “I’m lucky you were there, Em.”
A baffling gut punch. Harlan Royce was being sincere, and it made my eyes hot and my throat feel tight. There was only one way to keep from crying on camera.
Give him shit.
I grinned at him, trying to ignore the burning in my cheeks. “You’re lucky I let you be around me at all. You’re a hazard.”
Royce dropped his jaw like I’d slapped him and I laughed.
“And cut!”
TWELVE
HARLAN
FEBRUARY
Why wasthat car at the end of my driveway?