Liam and Harper

By Anita Claire

Harper has an itch and the compelling guy at the bar just might be the man to scratch it. Liam never thought he'd hook-up at his high school twenty-year reunion, and definitely not with his former classmate Harper.

After Harper sneaks out of his room in the middle of the night, Liam’s surprised to find her on his flight home. Harper figures a semi-anonymous hook-up is just what the doctor ordered. She never anticipated that she'd run into Liam again. Until their one-night stand turns into two nights, and two nights turn into more than either of them was expecting.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Anita Claire
• Release date: Sep 30, 2019
• ISBN: 9781005468477

Anita Claire

Anita Claire is an author of contemporary romance novels. Her books explore women who hold non-traditional jobs and the situations they encounter. She writes about smart, hard-working women and the men they fall in love with.

Book preview

Harper and Liam

The Reunion

By Anita Claire

Harper and Liam

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Smashwords Edition

Editing by Lisa Cerasoli

Cover design by Robin Ludwig Design Inc.,

http://www.gobookcoverdesign.com/

Text copyright © Anita Claire 2022, All rights reserved

Other books by Anita Claire

Books in The Reunion series

Three contemporary romances stories that take place at a twenty-year high school reunion

Noah and Kate

Quinn and Abby

Liam and Harper

Books in A Silicon Valley Prince series

Three contemporary romance stories about adults in their 30’s.

The Story of Jax and Payton

The Story of Brody and Ana

The Story of Flint and Lexi

Books in The Princess of Silicon Valley series

A collection of eight, coming of age, romance stories.

The Juliette Chronicles

Book 1 – Juliette

Book 2 – Nate

Book 3 – Hita

Best Friends Trillogy

Book 1 – Jennifer and Rocket

Book 2 – Isabelle

Book 3 – Kelly

Sisters from Another Mother

Book 1 – Olivia

Book 2 – Meredith and Sam

Chapter 1 – High School Reunion

Liam

With a deep breath, I psych myself up and enter the room. It’s busy, people are buzzing around. No one is paying attention to me. I sign in at the table, pick up my badge and walk through the crowd. I find a wall and lean against it, watching. It takes a few minutes for the faces in the crowd to come into focus. Actually, their faces are in focus. What it takes a few minutes is for my memory to come back. The women look mostly the same. The men look completely different.

The names all escape me. I wasn’t planning on coming. This wasn’t even on my radar. Each year my parents, aunt, and uncle rent a beach house for both families. It’s a family reunion of sorts. My cousin told me about my high school reunion. After a week of my family, I was looking for a diversion.

Liam Page?

I turn to find a pudgy man looking at me. Something about his eyes are familiar.

Ben? I guess.

Yeah…Liam, Come join us. We have a table with all our friends. We were wondering what happened to you. After freshman year of college, you disappeared.

I follow Ben to a table. A wall of memory slams me in my face. It all comes back as I find myself surrounded by my childhood friends. They slap me on the back and greet me with warm handshakes and smiles.

Three hours later …

Last call, an announcement blares over the intercom.

Already? The night’s young, Steve exclaims.

A bunch of people are headed to Brunner’s, Chris chimes in.

I’m staying at my parent’s tonight. I’ll need to drive that way already, I say. I enter Brunner’s, energized and feeling great. The restaurant is packed. The crowd is friendly and jovial. They’re all a lot more fun than I remember. Or maybe I’m just projecting. As the night continues, I get into the spirit. The warmth of the familiarity of childhood friends fills my soul.

The crowd starts to dissipate. But I want the joy of the evening to continue. One last drink before I leave. This is what I tell myself as I belly up to the bar. It would be nice to maintain my good beer buzz for a little while longer. I lean against the bar.

If you catch his eye, can you get one for me too? a warm female voice purrs into my ear.

Is this your way to get me to pay? I jest back. She slides a twenty along the bar. I was just joking, I respond.

That’s what guys say when they get caught sounding shrill, she counters.

Shrill? Do men sound shrill?

Oh, sorry, is that a word that’s saved for women?

Did we go to school together or are you a stranger giving me a hard time?

I went to school, but I have no idea if I went with you? she says.

Tonight’s our twenty-year reunion.

I feel like I should know you, but, you don’t look familiar.

I stare at her features. She looks familiar to me. She was already pretty back then, nice, conscientious, athletic, good student … but I can’t remember her name.

English class, I finally say.

I turn so I can see her profile from the left.

I spent years looking at that side of your face, I say. Her name is on the tip of my tongue.

Which English class? What side did you sit on?

They always had us sitting in alphabetical order. Your last name had to be earlier than mine. I remember you sat to my left and always took copious notes. It made me wonder what you were writing. Our teacher wasn’t that interesting.

Mr. Porter? she asks.

That’s right, Mr. Porter with the big ears. You were also in my Chemistry, Physics, and Algebra II classes.

She sticks out her hand.

Harper Grant.

Harper… I couldn’t remember your name.

…and you’re?

Liam.

Liam Page? Wow, you filled out. In High School you were a tall skinny guy. You always looked to me like a Tim Burton stick figure cartoon with your oversized nose and big Adam’s apple. Now your nose looks normal and I can’t even see your Adam’s apple.

That’s what you remember? I exclaim.

You also never took any notes, but you were always drawing cartoons. I’ll never forget the time you passed me one of your pictures. It was of our teacher. I got in trouble for laughing. Mr. Porter came over and asked me to share what was so funny.

You held up the cartoon I made to roast him, I say.

Everyone had a good laugh.

Wow, I had completely forgotten about that. I have to hand it to Porter, he had a good sense of humor. After class he asked if he could keep my drawing. He said it came out better than his wedding pictures. I asked him if his wife was invisible.

Now I remember, you were a wise ass. I bet you’re still a wise ass, she says.

Are you still Ms. Polly Perfect?

That’s what you thought of me?

Did you ever goof off in class, hand a paper in late, or get anything other than an A?

I was a good student.

Do you folks need something? the bartender interrupts.

What are you drinking? I say.

She moves her twenty with the tip of her finger.

Shots? she questions me.

You want to see if you can give me a head ache?

It’s been twenty years. I’m leaving tomorrow. I can’t make the picnic. I might as well go for it tonight. Are you up for it?

Why the hell not, I say.

Two Tres Generaciones, she says.

Tequila?

Harper gets a devious smile. I have a feeling she’s not the same Goody-two-shoes. The bartender places two glasses, salt, a couple of limes on the bar. He shows us a bottle of Tres Generaciones. Harper nods. We both watch our shot glasses get filled.

I lick the side of my hand, where my thumb meets my index finger, shake some salt on the damp skin, and pass the shaker to Harper. She licks her hand and gives me a wink. Is Harper flirting with me? I find myself intensely watching her as she salts her hand. She picks up her shot glass and looks at me expectantly. I pick up my glass and clink it against hers.

To twenty years, I toast.

To showing up at our fortieth.

Damn, we’ll be so old they’ll need to wheel us all in.

Twenty years goes fast…and slow.

Too fast and slow, I say.

I drink the shot. It hits my mouth and I swallow before thinking. It feels like an electrical shot as it goes down my throat. Harper shivers after she swallows. She licks the salt off her hand, reaches for a slice of lime, bites it and sucks down its juice. I follow her lead.

Wow, that sure wakes you up, I declare.

Too bad this place doesn’t have dancing. I’ve got all this energy, it would be fun, she responds. They used to have video games upstairs. Sometime in the last twenty years someone cleaned this place up, it’s no longer a dive.

You came here in high school? I ask.

My older sister came home over Christmas and left her college ID. Naturally, I took it. The bouncer couldn’t tell the difference between an eighteen-year-old and a twenty-two-year-old. It got me into a lot of places.

You’re not who I thought you were.

Liam, did you think about me, she flirts.

In most of my classes you sat next to me. I spent years looking at your ear and cheek.

She turns sideways.

Is this side of me burned into your mind?

I haven’t thought about any one from our class until about four hours ago. It’s kind of freaky being here.

There are friends I haven’t seen since we graduated, but really wanted to re-connect with. Tonight, was fun, she replies.

Yeah, it’s been surprisingly fun.

Do you want to get out of here? she says. I was so busy catching up I never really ate. I think that shot of Generaciones is burning a hole in my gut. I need to get something inside of me.

Sure, I reply.

The Generacianes has hit my blood stream. The sugar gives me a boost of energy while the alcohol dulls my inhibitions. This feels like it might become an even more interesting night. I could use some interesting, my life has become too predictable. Once outside, the sudden silence causes my ears to ring.

Where did you park? she asks.

I point down the street.

Is Ziggy’s open? Do you want to get a taco?

Sure, I reply.

This place hasn’t changed. It’s so weird. I’ve changed so much … but it still smells the same, she says as we walk down Main Street.

Do you come back often? I ask.

No. I’m an Army brat. My parents moved away after graduation. We were here for three years. It was one of the few times I lived someplace long enough to create a good group of friends. I fondly remember high school.

Looks like Ziggy’s is closed, I state as I stare at the dark store front.

Denny’s is open twenty-four hours.

Do you want to walk or drive? I ask.

Walk, definitely walk. The air feels good.

We turn and walk in the other direction. It’s late, real late. The street is dark and silent and no cars are on the road. I subdue the urge to look at my phone.

I spent so much time walking down this street as a kid. It still surprises me that it all looks the same but I’ve changed so much, I state.

I thought I had a really good memory, she says. I thought high school was burned into my brain. But today’s been interesting. There are so many things and so many people I’ve forgotten.

The trees are bigger, I say as the sidewalk leads us past our high school.

Have you been back since we left? she asks.

No.

She grabs my hand and tugs me up the long circular driveway. Her hand feels warm. The alcohol mixed with her flirting has stirred my libido. I’m not reading her signals wrong…am I?

Is the cafeteria still in the basement? she questions.

Harper marches us up the stairs and past the flag pole. She doesn’t stop until she reaches the tall windows. The ones that look into the cafeteria.

They got new tables.

It’s been twenty years.

I wonder if they still have murals in the halls and if they do, are they the same murals or have later classes changed them?

You should have gone on the tour of campus.

Did you go?

No, I reply.

I guess we’ll never know.

That’s cool, in my mind’s eye it will always be the way I remember it. I don’t want to have changes confuse my memory.

Harper walks towards the flagpole. I join her. Our proximity is enticing. She smiles, grabs my hand and walks deliberately down the steps.

Let’s check out the football field, she says. Did you play?

Football? I was six four and weighed a hundred and twenty pounds. I never would have made the weight minimum. My game was basketball.

That’s right, you were number eleven.

You remember me playing?

Friday night basketball games. What else did we do in the winter?

Weren’t you an athlete too?

Swimming and water polo. I bet you never went to any of my games.

True, in my defense they had us in practice every day after school.

Most of our meets were on the weekend.

Oh.

I’m just teasing you, she says as she gives me a playful elbow. Football, basketball, hockey and baseball get all the attention. Those of us who played the other sports are used to playing to a parent-only audience.

She squeezes my hand as we walk towards the back of the school. I doggedly follow. Her pace is decisive. There’s this energy she emits, it’s straight forward, no nonsense but still playful. I try to remember what she was like in high school. Besides sitting near her in a lot of classes, nothing else registers.

When we reach the back of the school, she lets go of my hand and starts running. I watch as she enters the soccer field. With her arms outstretched she starts twirling. I jog to where she is. She has a big smile on her face as she grabs my hand. I catch her energy and the two of us twirl together. We both get dizzy and land on the grass. The night sky is surprisingly clear. With few lights on, you can make out the stars above.

I haven’t twirled on a field in a long time, Harper says with a glow in her voice. We used to always do that while singing ‘The Hills are Alive’ before soccer practice.

I never took you for a girl who liked to twirl. You always took life so seriously.

I think you're right. I have always been serious. That could be why I vividly remember twirling. It’s those few moments of random abandonment that stand out.

Her body is close to me, I can feel the heat off her skin. I consciously submerge this huge desire to kiss her. I’m concerned she’ll consider my affection to be an assault. My life would be so much easier if I knew what women were thinking. As my brain goes into overdrive, I stare at the sky. The light from the stars feels so impossibly far away.

Harper sits up. My gaze moves to her, she looks down and smiles.

Are you married or gay? she asks.

No, neither.

No serious woman?

Nope.

Without warning she leans over me. As her face gets close, her lips part. Desire fills me like a drug. I lean up and touch my lips to hers. They feel soft, enticing. She leans down and we tumble into each other. Her lips furiously attack mine. All restraint dissipates as I wrap my arms around her, pulling her close. She grabs the front of my shirt pulling me tight. Feverishly we meld into each other. Franticly our hands run over each other. She pulls at my clothes. Her fingers drag along my skin. Her touch causes every nerve ending to jump. She tugs at my belt as she grinds into me. My dick gets hard.

You want to do this? I ask, praying she doesn’t want to stop.

Shut up Liam, we’re doing this, now, here. Do you have a condom?

I stop, my mind runs through that last comment. I haven’t had a hookup in years. Do I have a condom in my wallet? If I ever put one in there would it still be good? Do condoms have an expiration date? I have no idea. Clumsily I reach for my back pocket. Harper sits up and watches me. Her hair is now a little bit tangled and her mouth is a bit swollen from kisses. She looks so damn sexy. Why didn’t I crush on her in high school?

Oh, for god’s sake, she says as she pulls a condom out of her pocket.

You better like this brand because it looks like it’s our only choice.

I take the silver packet, not questioning why a woman is carrying a condom.

Harper tackles me.

Do you want to go back to my parent’s house? It’s close. We don’t have to worry about the police finding us, I say.

Hmmm, she responds.

My family’s at our cottage. The house is empty, I implore.

Liam, no talking, she responds. Her lips leave mine for a split second. Then they’re back. I don’t know if it’s the alcohol or the woman; whatever, this feels great. Her touch makes me lose all restrain.

Harper’s hands move down to my jeans. My dick throbs against the material. As she fumbles, I grab her by her shoulders and lift her up. With care, I flip our positions. I place her on the damp grass, get on my knees and unbutton my jeans. Meanwhile, she’s actively removing her shirt and kicking her jeans down. With her lips on mine, we franticly undress. It’s all lips and hands, and touching, and feeling. She wraps her legs around my waist. I reach down and feel her, she’s wet and throbbing. Not much to do to get her going, she’s ready.

Recklessly our fingers grasp at each other’s skin; our lips find each other as I thrust into her. She moans loudly in my ear. My rhythm increases, energy burns through me. My focus becomes pin pointed. I want her and want this now. I hold my breath for just a few moments as I let the energy build. When I can’t take it any longer, I surge into her. Her nails bite into my back. My whole-body tenses as I come. I gasp loudly. As the surge passes, I roll off of her. The night air cools my fevered skin. Harper lies next to me still writhing and gasping.

Reality suddenly hits. We’re on our high school soccer field. The large field is sided with houses. It would only take one homeowner to hear us. They could be calling the police, now. We’ve got to get out of here before this night turns ugly. Abruptly I stand up, pull up and fasten my pants and reach out my hand.

Come on, I urge.

What? she gasps out.

We’ve got to get out of here, pronto.

She grabs my hand.

Harper

I gaze at a tall glass. It’s perspiring and cold. I reach for it but can’t grasp it. Thirst wakes me, I sit up. My stomach immediately seizes and spasms. My mouth feels like it’s stuffed with cotton. I attempt to swallow back what’s rising from my stomach. It’s been a long-time since I’ve done shots. A real long time. Now I remember why I vowed never to do them again.

As I swing my legs off the end of the bed, a man moans. He grabs the blankets, covers himself as he rolls over. The room is dark but the curtains are open. With the dim light I can make out his form. I look around the room; it’s foreign. But a strong memory of last night slams into me. I stare at the large form in the bed. Liam Page. The Liam I barely remember from high school, the man I had sex with multiple times over the past few hours.

Naked, I scurry around searching for my clothes. I make my way to the bathroom. With the door closed I turn on the light. My disheveled hair and blood shot eyes stare back at me from the mirror. I turn on the water and take a number of deep gulps from the tap. I wash my face. As I dress, a conversation from last week runs through my head.

How long has it been? Jaqueline asks.

Too long, I reply.

Six months, a year? she questions.

Two, maybe three years. It’s not like I take note of the last time I had sex and count the days.

Two maybe three years. You do need it bad.

I haven’t met anyone. The decent guys at work are all married. The single guys are either way too young or are not my type.

Have you thought of online dating? Don’t be too proud, I met my husband that way.

Proud? Last year I must have gone on twenty meet-ups. None of them worked out.

You need to do something to brake your logjam. If you have some wild sex, you’ll stop thinking about it so much.

I’m not the random hookup kind of gal.

Go someplace fun, choose a sexy man, a man who’s not your type but looks fine. Have sex with him. You never have to see him again. You’re so busy looking for a life partner, you’re forgetting to have fun.

After my high school reunion, I’m flying to Taiwan for work.

High school reunion…you’re going?

Yeah, I have some great memories of high school. I haven’t been back there since I graduated. It will be fun catching up with my old friends.

Perfect. After the reunion, when everyone heads to a bar, find the man with the best body, buy him a shot and get yourself laid.

That sounds like a recipe for disaster.

You just said you haven’t seen these people in twenty years. It’s not like they’re going to pass your name around on Snap Chat.

Yeah, I reluctantly say as I think about how to change the subject.

Don’t forget to pack a few condoms. You don’t want to find a hook-up and then not be able to complete the mission, if you get what I mean.

That sounds so presumptive.

"Yes, of course it is. You’re not a teenager, be prepared.

What was I thinking? Why would I take Jaqueline’s advice? I know exactly what I was thinking. What I’ve been thinking for a while. I need it bad. Anyway…sex with Liam was good…very good. I don’t know if it was the alcohol, but we had a simpatico rhythm going. A night of anonymous sex is just what the doctor ordered.

I zip up my jeans and realize I don’t have my shoes. Where are my shoes? I try to think back to last night. The party, seeing