Page 45 of Antagonist

He takes a card out of his pocket. “Sage gave me this. I’m not quite sure why, but—”

The sound of kids running down the stairs stops Harrison.

“Dad, Megan wants to meet Rosie,” George says.

Harrison’s expression morphs into panic.

“Don’t worry, Rosie fed yesterday. She’s probably asleep and won’t come out of her hiding place for anything,” I say to reassure him.

“Gigi, I’m going to take Megan’s dad to the studio, okay? Be good and yell for me if you need anything.”

“Okay, Dad.”

I motion for Harrison to follow me. I grab the keys to the studio as we pass the kitchen and walk out of the house.

“Will they be okay?” Harrison asks.

“Yeah, we’re close enough, and George knows how to get me. Honestly, Rosie isn’t dangerous.”

“I know, I’m sorry. It’s just…it’s a snake, you know?”

I smile because I do know. It’s not the standard house pet, that’s for sure.

“Where are you taking me?” he asks.

I want to joke about taking him to my sex dungeon or something equally as ridiculous, but maybe we can take this chance to talk and clear the air between us.

The studio is full of boxes, but the apartment upstairs still has Arlo’s stuff, so this has to do. I point to the high stool by the workbench and Harrison sits.

I pull the other one out from under the bench and sit facing Harrison.

“So,” we both say at the same time.

He smiles and gestures for me to go first.

“I’m going to take a lucky guess that coming here wasn’t Megan’s idea,” I say.

“She didn’t exactly put up a fight, and we did promise they could have a playdate,” he says.

“But…”

“But you’re right. Look, Fletcher, I have a lot to apologize for.” He stands and walks around the workbench. “I don’t know where to start.”

“Maybe from the moment you ran off after we kissed. I mean, you don’t need to apologize for that. I just…want to know why you ran?”

Harrison paces the space between the bench and the door.

“I don’t know. It was unexpected. Good,” he says, finally looking at me with those deep eyes, “but unexpected. I wasn’t prepared for the stuff you made me feel.”

I swallow and slowly stand. “How did I make you feel?”

We’re facing each other. There’s enough room in the studio that if we wanted to avoid each other, we could. But here we are, standing only a few feet apart.

“You made me feel…I felt like…”

“Like what?” I whisper, taking another step forward.

I’m trying my best to keep my breathing normal, but it’s hard because I’m hanging on every word Harrison isn’t saying. Another thing that’s hard is my fucking dick.