Page 147 of Gamebreaker

The restaurant had a narrow lot behind it, where I'd parked, and Elyse walked me back through the cool night air while I held a debate with myself about how honest to be.

Honesty won. It usually does with me. Sometimes annoyingly.

"I had a really great time tonight," Elyse said, and she meant it, which made this harder. "Can I see you again?"

I knew I should have said yes. I ran the math the way I sometimes did when I was trying to outrun my own feelings. Elyse was available. Out. Funny. Normal. Every box on the checklist that Cam couldn't check.

I opened my mouth to say yes.

"Elyse, you're great," I said instead. "Really. But I have to be honest with you."

She tilted her head with an expression I could absolutely read, because it was evident all over her pretty features that she'd already figured it out and had spent an entire dinner giving me room to get there myself.

"You're not over someone," she said gently.

I laughed, one helpless sound, and my eyes filled before I could stop them. "Is it that obvious?"

"You got a look when I mentioned Cameron Russo." Her smile was wry and kind. "And you checked your phone twice during dinner, which I noticed but figured wasn't my business." She shrugged. "It's okay. I've been there."

"I'm sorry. That wasn't fair to you."

"Hey." She touched my arm briefly. "At least you're telling me now and not three dates in. I appreciate the honesty. Genuinely."

We hugged goodbye, a real hug, warm and uncomplicated, and she walked to her car, and I stood next to mine in the parking lot, watching her go.

I got in and sat there for a long while.

I didn't start the engine.

I had gone on a date with a funny, kind, completely available woman who was out and proud and had done it all right, and I'd spent the entire meal thinking about someone else. Someone who was closeted. Someone who couldn't give me what I needed. Someone I'd walked away from with my boundary intact and my heart in pieces.

And I was angry about it. That was the part that surprised me. Not sad, for once. Furious. At myself, at my stupid, loyal heart, at the unfairness of finally being healthy enough to want the right life and still wanting the wrong person.

"Oh, excellent work, Harper," I said to my steering wheel. "Really great progress on the moving forward plan. Gold star. Standing ovation. Frame it and put it on the wall."

My steering wheel had no helpful advice to offer.

I gripped it with both hands until my knuckles ached.

"No," I said out loud to nobody. "No. You don't get to stay stuck in this. You've done hard stuff. You did the hardest part already. You walked out of your parents' house knowing you'd never be welcome back, and you didn't turn around. You can get over one woman who couldn't hold your hand in public."

My voice cracked on hand.

I hated that it cracked.

I pulled out my phone and texted Mia.

Harper

You were right. I'm not over her. I'm so fucking not over her and I hate it.

The three dots appeared almost immediately.

Mia

Come over to Laine's. Wine is already open.

I started the car.