Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 86826 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86826 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
And then, in the back, I spot Abby, already seated in a curved booth, one leg crossed over the other, a martini glass in front of her and another drink waiting across the table.
The second she sees me, her entire face transforms.
“Oh my God,” she says as I approach. “There she is.”
I laugh, sliding into the booth and unwinding my scarf. “Hi to you too.”
Abby’s eyes narrow immediately. “No. Absolutely not. Don’t you dare come in here pretending to be normal.”
“I am normal.”
“You went to the Bahamas with a billionaire and disappeared off the face of the earth for five days.”
“Three and a half,” I correct. “And thank you again for watching Beau for me.”
She waves off my gratitude and leans across the table. “Harper… I’ve been patient, I’ve been a dogsitter, I’ve been a friend who now deserves to hear every last detail.”
I can’t help smiling as I reach for the drink she ordered me. “What is this?”
“A peppermint espresso martini because it felt festive and because I figured you’d need hard liquor for this conversation.”
I take a sip and immediately groan. “That’s disgustingly good.”
“I know.” She points at me with her empty olive toothpick. “Now start talking.”
I laugh softly, shaking my head as I settle back against the booth.
Outside the windows, snow continues drifting past the glass in soft white streaks, the city a snow globe beneath it, but inside I’m warm and loose and strangely untethered in the best way.
Abby studies me.
“You’re glowing.”
“I am not glowing.”
“You are literally glowing. You’re radiating, Harper.” She sits back dramatically. “I hate this for me.”
I laugh again, but there’s no stopping the blush climbing into my cheeks because the truth is, I know exactly why she’s saying it.
The Bahamas changed things. Not just the relationship between me and Julian. It changed me.
For so long my life has felt like survival. Bills and schedules and responsibility and Dylan and constantly calculating how to hold everything together without sharing the burden or the toll it was taking.
But in the Bahamas…
For the first time in years, I stopped bracing. I let myself be happy.
And maybe that’s why everything is different now.
Abby watches me carefully. “Oh, this is bad,” she says with delight.
“What’s bad?”
“That face.”
“What face?”
“The face of a woman who is absolutely gone over a man.”
“I am not gone over a man,” I protest weakly.
“You went from emotionally constipated to glowing in under a week. That man wrecked you.”
Heat floods my entire body because unfortunately—
She’s not wrong.
I stare down into my drink to hide it, but Abby practically vibrates with satisfaction.
“Harper,” she whispers dramatically. “Did you sleep with him?”
I choke on my martini.
“Oh my God,” she gasps. “YOU DID.”
“Abby,” I hiss, glancing around, even though nobody is paying attention to us.
“How many times?”
“ABBY.”
She grabs my wrist across the table. “I need details immediately or I’ll die.”
I drop my head into my hand, laughing helplessly now because there is no escaping this conversation.
Part of me doesn’t want to because the second I let myself think about him again—his touch, smile, desire for me—it consumes me.
Abby catches it instantly. Her expression softens beneath all the teasing.
“Oh no,” she says quietly. “You’re really in this.”
I look up at her. And for the first time since I got back to New York, since the plane landed and reality started creeping back in, I let myself say it out loud.
“Yeah,” I admit.
The word hangs there between us… True.
Abby stares at me for a beat longer, then slowly leans back against the booth cushions, processing the magnitude of it.
“Well,” she says finally. “Tell me everything. I need chronological order. And don’t you dare skip ahead to the sex. I want to enjoy each step, so really build that anticipation, please.”
“You’re insane.”
“I’m invested,” she replies. “Now start talking.”
I laugh and sink deeper into the velvet booth. “Okay, okay. So… from takeoff to touchdown, it was unreal.”
“That’s not enough detail.”
“I’m getting there.” I shake my head, still half disbelieving myself. “The villa overlooked the ocean and there was this insane infinity pool and a yacht and—”
“A yacht?” Abby cuts in. “That’s like Bezos/Musk–level rich people behavior. Continue.”
“And everything was just…” I search for the word and fail. “Beautiful. Like offensively beautiful.”
Abby grins. “What else?”
“We spent the entire trip relaxing. Out on the beach, by the pool, on the yacht. We had long meals and just talked and talked and talked.”
She waves that off impatiently. “That’s romantic and all but get to the sex talk.”
I laugh into my drink. “You’re exhausting and I’m not giving you details about the sex, although I’ll say it was beyond anything I’ve ever experienced.”
“And here you are glowing. You look like someone kissed your soul back into your body.”
Heat floods my cheeks.
She leans forward. “Tell me about Christmas dinner.”
I smile and giggle before I can stop myself.
“There it is,” Abby says triumphantly. “That giggle. That’s the sound of a woman fully gone.”