His Naughty Lessons

** Harper **

"Jealous?" Eli’s brow knitted. "That’s ... not what this is about. It’s not right for anyone to bother you like that and disrespect your own choice. I’m only trying to help fix a situation that shouldn’t have happened in the first place."

Harper smiled at the plain haste with which he defended himself. "I believe you, and I appreciate it." She held his gaze to let him know that she was serious. "But I also wonder ... What would you have done if — say, hypothetically — I didn’t mind the show of interest from this guy? In all honesty, if it weren’t for the web novel situation, I might not have even considered his attention enough out of the ordinary to be wary of. What would you be thinking then, if you saw him carry my luggage around the airport or get coffee for me every day?"

The flinch in his expression was a fleeting thing, lasting only a split second before his face settled back to neutral. He didn’t reply, but that was enough for Harper to see the answer she expected. "You hate that possibility even more, don’t you?" she asked. It was less of a question than an affirmative statement. "You might not have acted out right if I’m receptive to the situation, but you’d be even more angry to see it."

"... What makes you think that?" The earlier indignation had left his voice now. He looked away, and suddenly the air around him changed, reminding Harper of the moment on Saturday when he left the stadium all alone.

"Come on, Eli. Let’s not turn this into a web novel where you just lie about how you truly feel and walk away with a misunderstanding." She lifted her hand to his face, cupping his cheek and gently turning him back toward her. "Talk to me, please. Is this still about what you told me at the baseball game? Why is it that you suddenly can’t look me in the eye anymore ever since then?"

This was a conversation she had wanted to have for days, even though she knew that only the opposite could be said for Eli. From such a close distance, she could see his dark pupils dilating as if her words scared him, and a part of her felt guilty for pushing him on the insensitive subject. But she didn’t back out of it. Tracing her thumb slowly along his hard jawline, she let him know that she meant no judgment in the question. "I’m so sorry for what happened between your parents," she added softly. "I know saying it changes nothing ... but I wish I had known when we first met. I wish I could’ve done something ... to make those days a little easier for you."

She meant every word of it. Even in the playful mood of trying to extract an admittance of jealousy out of him, she still felt the heavy weight of his family tragedy on her mind, and her heart ached whenever she thought of how little she could help. Yet it ached even more when she recalled how he had recounted the story to her, expecting her to be appalled by what she heard and think less of him for it instead of feeling his pain. What kind of coldblooded person did he think she was?

She watched as his gaze wavered, too many emotions flashing through them that she couldn’t quite read. Then, as if making a decision that his life depended on, he let out a long sigh. "I appreciate the thought, Harper, though that wasn’t the reason why I left early on Saturday. Nothing changed ’suddenly’ either ... The mistake has always been there. I simply chose to pretend it didn’t exist until Saturday forced me to acknowledge otherwise."