Outrageously in Love by Jen Morris

8

This whole Harriet 2.0 thing was a ridiculous idea. I can’t believe I let Steph talk me into it.

I scrub at my lips in the bathroom mirror, willing the lipstick to disappear, but it’s one of those long-lasting, color-stay ones that won’t budge.

Dinner was awful. Five minutes into it Alex suggested that since Luke is the best man, he and I could work on the wedding tasks together, at which point I blurted out that I was feeling unwell and had to go lie down. She was obviously disappointed and now I feel terrible.

But I couldn’t just sit there, opposite him, pretending nothing had happened. I couldn’t pretend I hadn’t tasted the soft curve of his lips, felt the silky hardness of him in my hand, heard the way he moaned Ohhh fuck when he couldn’t hold back any longer. I couldn’t stop thinking about his fingers, working their way up my thighs, slipping between my legs, touching me eagerly.

And I couldn’t pretend that I was okay with the way he behaved when he saw me. He wasn’t the least bit happy, while all I wanted to do was drag him up the hallway and do it again.

So I hid in my room like a coward until I heard Luke leave, and Alex and Michael go to bed. Now I’m in the bathroom, trying to get this stupid lipstick off my mouth, my mind working overtime.

I am not cut out for doing outrageous things; just look at how spectacularly this has backfired. The one time I do something wild and it comes back to bite me in the ass. It’s karma, that’s what it is. Of all the men in all the world I could have shagged, how did it end up that I slept with Michael’s brother? And not just that—he’s the best man at their wedding, which I now have to organize with him.

Unless… maybe I could tell Alex I’m unable to help with wedding stuff after all? That I’m here to see the city, and…

No. I can’t do that. Not after everything I’ve already put her through with refusing to come over here in the first place. I’m not that selfish.

Maybe I can do it without Luke’s help. That could work, right?

But what if Alex asks why I can’t work with Luke? What will I tell her then?

Fuck. This is a nightmare.

I tiptoe from the bathroom across the hall and snatch my phone up off the bed. It’s after eleven but I’m too wired to sleep. I grab a key and pull Alex’s jacket off the back of the door, trying not to think about the fact that my luggage is still nowhere to be found. Every time I do, I feel sick.

I guess that’s the least of my problems now.

When I step outside the building, the cool air hits me in the face and I pull the jacket tighter. I spot a tiny coffee shop across the road with the name Beanie on the glass. Warm, yellow light spills from the front window onto the dark street, and I head over and push inside. I’m enveloped by the smell of espresso and cinnamon, and for the briefest moment I forget my troubles as my eyes feast on the glass cabinets filled with rows of delicate pastries and colorful macarons, topped with a gleaming espresso machine. This place is just like the sort of cafe I want to create, but with stacks of board games lining the wall and sumptuous sofas to sink into.

I order a chamomile tea—God knows I need to calm down—and find a table near the window. After doing some timezone calculations, I find Steph’s name in my contacts and press the call button, popping my earphones in. She answers after only three rings.

“Hey! How’s it going?”

I lean back in my chair, rubbing my temples. “Not great, Steph.”

“Uh-oh. What happened?”

“Well, for starters, I accidentally slept with the best man.”

There’s a pause on the other end, and I glance down at the screen to check the call is still connected. “Are you there?”

“Yes. Sorry, I don’t think I heard you properly.”

I draw a breath and repeat myself, more calmly this time.

“Okay, I did hear you.” Another pause. “So… how did that happen?”

“It was bloody Harriet 2.0! You and all your talk about being more adventurous.” The barista places my chamomile tea on the table and I send her a strained smile.

“What?” A laugh bursts down the line. “I never told you to bone the best man!”

“I didn’t know he was the best man, did I? Or I wouldn’t have…” I can’t even hear myself over the roar of Steph’s laughter, and I’m trying to keep my voice low in the quiet coffee shop. “You and that stupid condom you put in my bra, I swear—”

“Oh my God!” She’s howling now. “You actually used it?!”

“It’s not funny, Steph! This is an absolute disaster.”

More laughing. I hear her gasping for breath, and it’s a full minute before she calms herself down enough to speak. “But… why?” she manages at last.

“Because—” I falter. I’m not totally sure why, but it is. I mean, he certainly wasn’t pleased to see me. And if Alex finds out I had sex with her fiance’s brother, won’t that be kind of awkward? It’s almost a bit incestuous, isn’t it? I know it’s not really, but it feels wrong, and the last thing I want to do is make her uncomfortable at her own wedding. “It just is, Steph. The best man is Michael’s brother—Alex’s brother-in-law-to-be. We hooked up before I knew, and then tonight I saw him again, and… Ugh, it’s just weird.”

“Yeah, okay. I see what you’re saying. This does put you in a tricky situation.”

I reach for my chamomile tea and inhale the fragrant scent before taking a sip. I might need something stronger.

“Maybe you’re overreacting,” Steph says. “Alex will understand. It’s not like you did it on purpose—you didn’t even know who he was. And it’s not like it will happen again, right?”

I cradle the steaming cup in my hands. Before I can stop it, my mind slingshots back to the plane. I think of the way Luke growled my name, the way he touched me and made me feel pleasure I didn’t even know was possible. A delightful thrill runs up my body. I don’t want to make things awkward for Alex, but God, if he wanted to do it again, would I be able to say no?

“Harriet?” Steph’s voice cuts into my thoughts.

“Er, well… no.”

“You don’t sound so sure.”

I set my teacup down with a sigh. “Steph, he is so sexy. The chemistry and connection between us was amazing. You know me—I’m never like this with guys.”

“Yeah, that’s true.”

I chew my lip for a moment, wondering if I should tell Steph what, exactly, made this particular time so momentous. I kind of want to tell someone, and she’s the only one who knows the details of my lackluster sexual past. “And, um, you know that little issue I’ve always had?”

“You mean the elusive big O?”

Heat suffuses my cheeks and I glance around the coffee shop, even though no one can hear her. “Yeah.”

“Wait.” Steph’s voice is suddenly sharp and alert. “Are you saying—did he give you your first orgasm?”

“Um, yeah.”

“Oh my God! Harriet! This is huge!”

Now it’s my turn to laugh.

“Seriously! Congrats, girl!” She giggles. “Have you had one since?”

“Well I haven’t slept with him again, have I?”

“What? You know you can give yourself one, right?”

“Oh.” I hadn’t really thought of that. “Yeah, I don’t know if I can.” And I’m not sure I want to. It wasn’t the orgasm, so much. It was him. “Anyway, you can see why this is making things a lot harder. And then seeing him again tonight, I remembered just how good it was.”

“Yeah,” she murmurs. “Harri, it sounds like you want it to happen again. I know this is an awkward situation, but is there any way it could? Because this is kind of a big deal.”

I imagine Alex discovering I’ve slept with her husband’s brother and my stomach curdles. It doesn’t matter how sexy he is; no man is worth upsetting my sister or compromising her wedding. I can’t believe I was even considering it. I’ve gone years without sex and I’ve been just fine, why would now be any different? What the hell has happened to me?

“We can’t do it again,” I mutter, reaching for my cup. “I need to put Alex’s feelings first.” It doesn’t matter, anyway. Luke was uncomfortable seeing me tonight, so it’s unlikely that he would want anything to happen. And what did he say in his note, that things were complicated? What does that even mean?

“I’m sure everything will be fine,” Steph says. “But don’t blame Harriet 2.0. If it weren’t for her, you wouldn’t have had hot sex. If anything, I’d thank her.”

We end the call and I mull over Steph’s words as I finish my tea and climb the stairs to the apartment. I don’t know if I agree; without Harriet 2.0’s antics, things would be a whole lot easier right now.

But if I’m being honest with myself, I don’t want to take back what I did on the plane. It wasn’t just the sex, or the chemistry, or the life-altering orgasm. It was who I was when I was with him—a glimpse of who I could be.

It was the feeling of coming alive.