Page 33 of I Want You

Victoria wraps her arms around Harper’s bare waist, pressing her face against Harper’s shoulder. The water falls, warm and steady, washing away the last traces of makeup and the defenses they’ve worked so hard to build over years of separation.

“This is dangerous,” Victoria murmurs against her skin, feeling her voice crack.

“Very dangerous…” Harper replies, pulling her closer to her body. “But I love it.”

She pulls away just a few inches to look into Victoria’s eyes. Drops of water trickle from the tips of her eyelashes, framing a gaze filled with sweet sadness and undeniable truth.

“But I don’t regret anything that’s happened,” Harper adds, sliding her thumb along Victoria’s swollen lower lip.

“Neither do I,” Victoria admits, finally surrendering to the evidence.

Harper reaches out and turns off the shower. The roar of the water stops abruptly, giving way to an almost mystical silence, interrupted only by the sound of their synchronized breathing.

The steam begins to dissipate slowly, revealing their reflections in the glass. They remain silent for a long while, enjoying the lingering warmth of their bodies before stepping out. Harper takes two large towels from the rack and hands one to Victoria without saying a word.

When they step out of the bathroom, the suite seems different.

Harper stops at the edge of the mattress and looks at Victoria, waiting for a signal. Victoria says nothing; she simply pulls back the sheets and slips inside. Harper follows her without hesitation, slipping under the covers and resting her head in the crook of Victoria’s shoulder, just as she did years ago.

Victoria wraps her arm around Harper’s shoulders, pulling her close, and closes her eyes as the scent of Harper’s skin completely envelops her. She knows that tomorrow the barriers will go up again, that the fear of rejection will once more grip her chest. But tonight, in Los Angeles, there are no masks to hide behind. All that remains are Harper and Victoria, lost in feelings that are now impossible to control.

Chapter 11

Victoria doesn’t look at Harper as she hands her a cup of coffee before she’s even asked for it. Harper is leaning against the production table, the white light from the spotlights highlighting her perfect profile and that air of control that always precedes her.

“I need us to be at one hundred percent from the very first minute,” Victoria says without looking up from the paper. “There can’t be a single misstep during the shoot. Especially now that we’ve gotten Beaumont to sign the contract—the whole project depends on these images making an impact.”

Harper takes a sip of her coffee, savoring the bitter, perfect blend.

“How romantic. A caffeine rush spiced with pressure first thing in the morning. Just what I dream of every time the alarm goes off.”

Victoria looks up. For a second, a flash of amusement crosses her eyes.

“We have to be professional here. We’ll see how we handle the rest,” she says to Harper with a wink. “Or how we survive it.”

“Much better,” Harper agrees.

She takes another long sip to hide a silly smile. They have to follow the rules—and not fall back into those lips that, personally, drive Harper wild.

“Five minutes!” Julian announces from the center of the studio. “I want everyone here.”

Harper is grateful for Julian’s interruption.

The shoot they’ll be doing this morning will be the centerpiece of the issue. The final concept they’ve designed is daring: blending haute couture with an urban aesthetic. Glass, metal structures, harsh shadows, and a woman who defies clichés.

The first model walks out wearing the showstopper: a monumental chiffon piece with metallic inlays on the torso that seems to float with every step. Harper immediately approaches to assess the drape of the fabric, while Solange kneels beside her to pin the hem between her fingers.

“I get the feeling the fabric drapes without any structure,” Harper remarks, tilting her head. “It needs a touch of edge.”

Solange looks up from the floor and squints.

“I was going to say the same thing. It lacks impact, and we don’t sell fairy tales here.”

Victoria joins the group.

“It’ll look much better with the belt,” Victoria suggests, tapping her lips with her index finger.

“Yeah, I agree with you,” Harper replies.