Page 24

Anything’s Possible

Daniel

A half-empty bottle of champagne sits in the center of the table, taunting me. Daring me to down the rest of it. This night has been torture, made only slightly better by one friendly face that’s been keeping my misery company.

I steal a glance at Harrison and smirk. Boredom practically oozes from his pores. The sound of a fork on glass pulls my attention away from him and to the stage at the far side of the room.

Susan smiles at us all with a microphone in her hand. Her pearls sparkle under the soft lighting. “Thank you all for coming,” she coos, her voice crackling through the speakers. “Tonight is a very special night for Bill and me. Twenty-five years of marriage, and we couldn’t be happier.”

Harrison mutters something under his breath. I lean in closer. “What?”

“I said, kill me now.”

I bite back a laugh. “Come on, it’s sweet.”

He rolls his eyes so hard I fear they might fall right out of their sockets. “It’s nauseating.”

Susan continues, oblivious to her son’s disdain. “We’ve had our ups and downs like most couples do, but through it all, we’ve remained committed to each other and our family.” She scans the room for Harrison. When she sees him, she flashes that fake smile again. “Family is everything .”

Harrison tenses beside me. It makes me wonder how many speeches he’s had to sit and listen to while seething inside.

“You okay?” I whisper.

He doesn’t respond. Instead, he reaches for the champagne bottle and does what I contemplated doing. After wiping his mouth, he flashes me a fake smile of his own. “Just peachy.”

Susan holds up her glass, and the room follows suit. “To love and family.”

The crowd echoes her toast and clinks their glasses together. I turn to Harrison and hold up my glass to him. “Cheers,” I murmur.

He cocks his head and studies me like I’m a dog at the pound. After a couple of minutes of being scrutinized, he abruptly stands, jostling the table. “I need some air.”

As if his ass is on fire, he weaves around the tables and disappears onto the balcony.

I want to follow and tell him that I’m as conflicted as he is about all of this bullshit.

But I know rushing after him will only make things worse.

Instead, I finish my champagne, letting its gross warmth spread through me.

Susan has relinquished the microphone to Bill, who is now entertaining the crowd with stories from their early years together.

They’re the kind of stories that make rich people sound like characters in a sitcom. A bad sitcom. And I’m the only one who isn’t laughing.

Couples are slow-dancing on the dance floor, food has been delivered to our tables and eaten, and Harrison still hasn’t returned.

Concerned, I excuse myself from the table and join him on the balcony.

The moment I step outside, a heavy weight lifts from my shoulders.

The cool air is a much-needed reprieve from the stuffy ballroom.

I don’t make my presence known yet. I take the time to enjoy the view before me—Harrison’s silhouette against the city skyline.

He has his elbows propped on the brick wall that prevents him from plunging to his death.

He stares out at the city lights twinkling like fireflies, his head in the palms of his hands.

New York at night is a breathtaking sight.

From our vantage point, the city seems to stretch out for miles and miles.

The Empire State Building looms in the distance, its spire lit up purple.

I’m surprised to find that the sound of honking cars and sirens reaches us all the way up here.

It mixes with the soundtrack of the string band back inside, playing a Bastille song.

“Hey,” I say softly so as not to startle him. I walk up to the wall and lean on it, same as him. “I love this view. It makes you feel like anything’s possible, you know?”

Harrison briefly glances at me. “I suppose.”

“When I was a kid and lived upstate, I used to dream about running away to the city. Just packing a bag and hopping on a train, leaving everything behind.”

“Why didn’t you?”

I shrug. “Fear, mostly. Fear of disappointing my parents, fear of failing.”

Harrison nods, his eyes still fixed on the skyline. “Poor Danny.”

“Yeah,” I scoff. “Poor me. But you, Harrison, you were able to do what I couldn’t. You deviated from your parents’ plan without a second thought.”

He laughs, but there’s no humor in it. “You think this is easy for me, Hollingsworth? Defying my parents at every turn, living in a shithole loft, and scraping by on a part-time job?”

I blink, surprised by his candor and the vehemence in his tone.“No, I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant?—”

“What? That I have it easier than you because I had the balls to go after what I wanted?” Harrison pushes off the wall and paces around the balcony. His hands clench into tight fists at his sides. “You have no idea what my life has been like, Hollingsworth. No fucking clue.”

I hold up my hands in a placating gesture. I want to defuse the tension crackling in the air before it threatens to explode. “You’re right; I don’t. I’m sorry if I trivialized your struggles. That wasn’t my intention at all.”

Harrison stops pacing and levels me with a glare that could melt steel. His blue eyes, normally inviting, flash with a mixture of anger and what appears to be…loneliness. My heart nearly splits in two. Gone is the boy, so sure of himself, and in his place is a boy who simply wants to be loved.

My parents, for all their flaws and grand ambitions for my future, have never made me doubt their love. They want me to build a career on Wall Street instead of the diamond, not because they look down their noses at sports, but because they want what’s best for me.

It’s like what Harrison’s mom said—all it takes is one moment for it to all go tits up. If I don’t have stability, a backup plan, where will that leave me? My parents won’t be around forever to help me out. There will come a time when I’ll be on my own.

But Harrison’s parents? From the little I’ve gleaned, they view him more as an accessory. The thought makes my stomach churn.

I reach out tentatively, my fingers grazing Harrison’s shoulder. He stiffens at the contact but doesn’t pull away. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you or make light of what you’ve been through. I…I admire your courage.”

Harrison’s gaze flicks to mine, guarded but curious. “You do?”

“Absolutely. You’re brave, talented, passionate. Everything I wish I could be.”

He smiles ruefully. “Careful there, Hollingsworth. Keep talking like that, and I might start to think you actually like me.”

I chuckle softly, giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze before letting my hand fall away. “Would that be so bad? Us being friends?”

Harrison studies me for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then, with a sigh, he turns back to the glittering cityscape. “I don’t know. Friendship isn’t exactly my forte.”

“Well, maybe it’s time to try something new.” I bump his shoulder with mine playfully. “I promise I don’t bite. Unless you’re into that sort of thing.”

The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them, hanging in the air between us. My face heats up, and I’m suddenly grateful for the cover of darkness. What the hell was I thinking, flirting with him like that? Did I just ruin something before it even began?

But to my surprise and relief, Harrison laughs. A genuine, unguarded laugh that makes him snort. “You’re something else, you know that?”

I grin, emboldened by his response. “So I’ve been told. Usually right before I’m kicked out of bed.”

Harrison snorts again, and a slow smile spreads across my face as an idea takes shape. It’s a crazy idea, and it should have me running for the hills, but if anything, it has my heart racing in anticipation. Not fear.

“Do you trust me?” I ask Harrison as I make myself at home in his personal space.

His eyes widen imperceptibly as I lean into him. “Do I…trust you?” He bites his lip, and if I were a betting man, I’d say that his answer is going to be yes. But if it’s a no, that’s okay too. I would never push anyone to do anything they didn’t want to do.

I stand there, watching as his breathing changes—from slow and deep to fast and shallow—and his pupils dilate under the moonlight. But I still want him to say it. I need to hear him say it.

“Yes, Hollingsworth. I trust you. I think…I think I always have. Is that crazy?”

“Totally crazy. You wanna know something crazier?”

“Yes,” he breathes out .

“I’m going to kiss you now.”

I don’t wait to see his reaction because I close my eyes and press my lips firmly against his. He stiffens at first, but then relaxes as he kisses me back.

Now, I’ve been kissed plenty. By girlfriends, hookups, and even random fans.

But none of them compare to kissing Harrison Price.

His tongue slips past my lips and embraces mine greedily.

I can still taste the champagne on him, and it does things to me that I’ve never experienced before.

My stomach clenches, my fingers twitch, and my toes curl in my shoes.

When Harrison’s hands reach up to grip my biceps, I groan. The sound of a car screeching and colliding with another mixes with the band inside now playing something magical. I think it’s “Birds of a Feather,” but I’m too lost in Harrison to pay attention.

I tentatively place my hands on Harrison’s waist. This is still so new to me; I’ve never touched a guy romantically. Does Harrison like it? Should I move them elsewhere?

I feel like I’m in middle school again, completely unsure of what to do. But then Harrison takes my hands and moves them to his ass. He pulls his tongue out of my mouth to murmur, “Squeeze, Hollingsworth.” And then his tongue is back where it belongs.

I never need to be told twice to squeeze. My fingers dig into the bubbly flesh beneath his dress pants, and I’m instantly hard as a motherfucking rock. I swallow Harrison’s ecstatic groan, continuing to squeeze for what must be hours.

When we finally break apart, the moon is higher in the sky. Both of us are breathless, our lips swollen, eyes glassy.

“That was…”

Harrison presses a finger to my lips. “Don’t say it.”

I smirk. “Epic.”

He groans, rolling his eyes.

“You don’t agree?”

“Oh, I agree.”

I attempt to kiss him some more, but he stops me with a hand on my chest. I track his eyes as he glances at where his hand has ended up—right over my heart. It’s running at hyper-speed, with no sign of slowing down.

“I have a room about ten floors up. Want to see it?” He presses his groin against mine.

My eyes roll back. “Fuck, Harrison. What are you doing to me?”

“This is nothing, Hollingsworth. Come with me, and I’ll show you what I can really do to you.”

He holds out his hand, waiting, letting me decide if this is something I want.

But I don’t need to think about it. I’m ready. So fucking ready.