Home>>read Stealing Harper free online

Stealing Harper(110)

By:Molly McAdams


When Cassidy came out less than an hour later, her hair was wild and slightly wavy, and she had less makeup on than last night too. She looked beautiful. Without all that dark stuff around her eyes and stuff on her face, her honey-colored eyes looked even brighter and you could see a splatter of very light freckles on her nose. Not saying she hadn’t looked gorgeous last night, because she had. She took my breath away. But I preferred this almost completely natural look. She was wearing green Chucks, jeans with the bottoms rolled up to her calves, and a worn black Boston concert shirt. Boston. This girl is perfect.

“Ty, I’m ready.”

She still had yet to look at me since she walked in the room, and though I wanted her to, I was enjoying being able to take her in. I noticed her bottom lip was a little too full for her top lip, and her nose couldn’t have been more perfect if she’d chosen it herself. Her eyes flitted over to me quickly, then right back to Tyler; her cheeks got red and I couldn’t help but grin. There’s no way she doesn’t feel this too. She started biting her bottom lip, and again I thought about what it would feel like to kiss those lips. I’d never wanted to kiss a girl this damn bad.

“Tyler!” She tapped his leg with her foot and he looked at her, then back at the screen.

“What’s up?”

“I’m ready, are we going or not?”

“Yeah, just let me finish this match and we can go. Like eight minutes.”

I had already sat up when she entered the room so she could sit on the couch with me, and she was eyeing it now, but instead turned and went into the bedroom. She stayed in there while Tyler played two more matches and didn’t come out until he went to get her.

I took them all over Austin that afternoon, and while she was polite and would respond whenever I asked her a question, she wouldn’t hold a conversation with me and made sure she was always by Tyler’s side, farthest away from me. Maybe I was wrong about her feeling whatever this connection was, because she definitely didn’t seem like she was having a hard time not touching me. It was all I could do not to grab her hand and keep her by my side.

When we were on the way back, she asked if we could stop by the grocery store, and we let her take over the shopping after her third eye-roll at our food choices.

“Don’t worry,” Tyler whispered as she compared packages of ground beef, “she’s been cooking for herself since she was six; she’s better than my mom.”

I hadn’t been worried, and now that added just one more thing I wished I could have protected her from. Because my dad and I worked from sunup to sundown most days, I was only ever in the kitchen to help with dishes. I thanked Mom and my sisters daily for making the food, but I couldn’t imagine having to do it on my own when I was just a little kid. I’d have to thank them again.

Other than letting us carry the groceries in for her, she wouldn’t let us help put them away and immediately started on cooking dinner for the three of us. I lay down on the couch just watching her move around the kitchen while Tyler played his game again. At one point it looked like she started dancing for a few seconds before she stopped herself, and God, if that wasn’t the cutest thing I’d ever seen. When Ty was fully engrossed in the game, I got up and wandered into the kitchen, stepping right up behind her.

“Do you need help with anything?”

Her body tensed for a moment, and once it relaxed she turned her head up to look at me. “No, I’m fine. Thanks though.”

“Could I help anyway?”

She continued to watch me with that same hurt and confused look from that morning. “Yeah, sure. You can make the salad.” She grabbed a few things out of the fridge and brought them over to me before grabbing a couple more items that she’d bought at the store out of a bowl on the counter. “Dice these, and—wait, do you even like avocados?”

“I’ll eat anything, darlin’.”

Her mouth tilted up at the corners and her cheeks got red; I smiled to myself and made a mental note to call her that more often. “Well, if you don’t like them, I can just put them in my bowl.”

I grabbed the avocado from her and looked at it, a little confused. “Like I said, I’ll eat anything. But how do you cut this thing?”

She laughed lightly and took it from my hand, sliding the cucumber and tomato in front of me. “Dice these first, then I’ll show you how to cut the avocado.” She handed me a knife and turned back to the stove.

I was flat-out awful at dicing those vegetables, but being in the kitchen with her had me smiling the entire time, and whatever she was cooking smelled damn good. “I think I did it right.”