Into You Series: The Complete Collection

20. Harry

CHAPTER 20

HARRY

I t’s amazing what you can accomplish when you’re happy.

I took the plunge and upgraded the garage by purchasing a new lift. It’s industry standard, decked out with all the bells and whistles to support upcoming vehicles in the market. I would have never known about these developments had I not gone to class. It’s weird to be able to anticipate future needs.

Life was great.

But then I made the mistake of finishing the van.

I was distracted, too enamored with Saria and too willing to do anything to make her happy. She went to work with a skip in her step and all I could think was, What would make her give me that wonderful smile? What would give her the most happiness?

Fixing Frankie, that’s what.

Sounds like the name of one of those romance drama movies we watch. Fixing Frankie . Nicholas Sparks would be so proud of us.

All I had to do was adjust a few wires and then…she’s alive. Just as the twinkle lights shine on the interior of her van, that bittersweet feeling takes over. A gut-wrenching, stomach-smarting feeling…

This is the end.

The thoughts flood in… Where will Saria go after this? How much longer do we have? How much of this even matters?

Saria and I didn’t talk much after her birthday party. We slept together, but we always do that. She rode me like the crazed woman she is and then we watched a movie afterward. Pretty par for the course for us. But we didn’t talk, and I think we should have. I had more to say…I’ve felt more since then.

Those lights really did it for me, and it wasn’t because they look like they’re straight out of some cheesy movie. It was the symbolism behind them, the electricity running through something new, and it wasn’t a new relationship. It was a new adventure strictly for her.

The second I saw them, I knew things didn’t seem right anymore. So, I made the call to the one person who seems to thrive in off-kilter situations; I called my brother Grant.

He cycled over to the shop within the hour wearing those dumb, too-tight biking shorts.

“You rang?” Grant asks, out of breath and practically throwing his bike to the wayside as he stumbles into the garage. I want to ask if he’s drunk, but I know he’s been clean for over a year. If anything, he’s just an exhausted drama queen who just biked some miles.

“I think I like her,” I say.

“The barely legal girl?”

I glare at him. “She’s twenty-two.”

“Yeah, that’s what I said.”

I run my hands through my hair. The motion has been constant for the past half hour. Pacing around the garage seems to be never-ending as well.

“I knew I should have called Ian,” I grumble.

Grant snorts out a laugh. “You think that pretty boy is going to give better advice than me?”

“Yes.”

“Fine, okay, he loves love. But are you really looking for someone who loves love right now?”

He’s right. I’m not. If I wanted someone to encourage me to be with her, I would have called Ian or, hell, even Cameron. Both are hopelessly in love with their women. Grant is the man with the sawed-off edges, jagged from years of his own infidelity and drug use. Those corners have been smoothed out, but he still wouldn’t be the main advocate for running through an airport in some grand gesture. And that’s the kind of kick in the teeth I need.

“I thought what we were doing was just for fun,” I say. “Just…sex.”

“It is,” he insists, crossing his arms. “She just got out of college. She doesn’t even know what she wants.”

I mull over the words because even I don’t know what she wants.

“I finished her van today,” I say. “Which means she’s going to leave soon.”

“Good. Move on,” he says. “Cara is getting too attached anyway. She’s gonna be devastated when the girl leaves.”

I run my palm over my face and groan. “I know, I know.”

“You’re getting distracted because the pussy is too good.”

“Hey, don’t talk about her like that,” I chastise, even though that’s a word we’ve normalized in the bedroom. Saria likes dirty talk more than she’ll admit in mixed company.

“I don’t think it’ll just be Cara that’ll be devastated either,” Grant says, looking lazily at me. He has this way of seeming both bored and concerned all at once.

“I will miss her,” I admit. “That’s the issue. I don’t want to. She was just supposed to be…hell, I don’t even know. A convenience?”

“You’ll get over her,” he says. “You got over Riley.”

“Riley and I were different. She was pregnant after the first date. We never had time to grow together.” I hold my breath and exhale. “She didn’t want to.”

“And Saria wants to?”

Every piece of me feels broken by that statement because, fuck, I don’t know.

“Good point.”

Saria wants to leave. She doesn’t want to stay here with me and my daughter. I have baggage. Even though it’s darn cute baggage with princesses and dolls, it’s still a situation that would make any single woman feel restrained.

What’s her incentive for staying? Me?

“Am I enough?” I ask, not realizing I’ve said the words out loud until they echo through the garage.

I look to Grant, whose eyes have grown wide.

“Woah, buddy. I’m not sure I have time to analyze that one.”

“I’m not asking you to,” I say, running another hand through my hair. I can feel how it’s sticking up at the ends before flopping back down. Clearly, a shining beacon of a well-put-together man.

“I’m a mess, man.”

“I know,” he says matter-of-factly. “Hey, we could wreck her van.”

“What the hell, Grant?” I throw my hands in the air only to have them slap back down on my knees. “We’re not gonna wreck her van.”

“Then you need to come up with some way to not let her leave.”

“Why?”

“Because you want her to stay,” he says, narrowing his eyes and tilting his head to the side. I didn’t know it was possible to call someone an idiot with just an expression before, but Grant has officially pulled it off. “You’ve more or less said it a billion times since I’ve gotten here. You want that chick to stay . You’re into her.”

I inhale and sigh out, shaking my head. “Yeah, I am, but?—”

“No, no, no,” Grant says. He tilts his chin down, taking a step toward me and thumping my chest with his index finger. “You are falling in love with this chick.”

“I don’t… That’s not…” The words can’t form. I don’t want them to. “You were supposed to tell me I’m being stupid,” I say, lowering down to the work stool, the weight of my thoughts suddenly too heavy to stay standing. “Not that I’m in love.”

“Oh, you are definitely being stupid. Don’t worry about that,” he says with a grin. “It sounds like this girl wants to get the heck out of Dodge and here you are bringing feelings to the table.”

“Thanks,” I say, voice monotone.

Grant leans against the bench, arms crossed once more. “You know, I’ve always been a bit of a sucker for your doe-eyed outlook on life.” He looks down at me like the older brother that he is, and it brings back memories of when I used to admire him as a kid. Almost wrought with wisdom—even if ill-advised. It’s easy to look up to your older brother despite his flaws.

“That’s really nice of you, Grant,” I say.

He grunts. “Don’t tell Nia I’m nice.”

I laugh. “She’d never believe me anyway.”

Grant sighs, pacing beside the van just as I was minutes ago. I think some of my anxiety has transferred to him. I appreciate the empathy for once.

“So, you love her,” he says.

“I don’t love her.”

“Okay, lover boy. You’re just ‘into her’ then.” His fingers make those obnoxious bunny ear quotations. “What are you going to do about it?”

“There’s nothing to do,” I say. “I like hanging out with her and I’m just going to enjoy the rest of my time with a girl I care about.”

“A girl you love .”

“ Care about ,” I say with emphasis, leaning back on the stool.

“Do whatever you need to do to make yourself feel better.”

“I’ll show her the finished van.”

Grant rolls his eyes. “Won’t that make her leave sooner?”

I shrug. “I like how she looks when she’s happy.”

“Lo-ove,” Grant says in a singsong voice, his lazy smile mocking me.

“Care,” I say. “Admire, maybe.”

“Love.”

The word rings in my ears, and I feel too sick to answer.