“Basically, you’ll make a short class about stretching, exercising, or general muscle health. And I should be able to be in the videos with you, doing some of the stretching, so viewers will still get a dose of me, but also an extra special dose of you.” Harper taps me on the nose like a cat. It makes my nose wiggle, which he laughs at.
“Please? I need this to replace my Foodie Friday segment.” Harper holds up his injured wrist. “I’m listening to your expert advice—”
“Why do you sound sarcastic?”
He doesn’t answer, and moves on, “I’m avoiding tossing pots and pans around and chopping vegetables, so I can have a properly functioning wrist again.” Harper nods proudly as if I should be impressed that he is taking my advice seriously. “So… what do you think? I’ll help make the classes. If I can, I mean. It could really help a lot of people out too.”
Harper sits calmly, allowing me to consider his proposition. Honestly, it isn’t half bad. Making a class would be easy enough. I’ve already made some for my own patients. This is a field I’m comfortable and familiar with, unlike whatever the influencer style usually is for Harper. And he tripped over my cane, so in a way it is my fault he can’t do his Foodie Fridays. I’d be of much more help this way, and it may make the two weeks easier, but…
I’d be in the videos. How many followers does Harper have? If it’s his fulltime job, he has to have a decent amount. People will know my face. All this time, I’ve survived by living on the down low. Hiding my identity by hiding myself. To show my face on a popular channel to possibly thousands of strangers, what if someone, somehow, discovers my true identity?
“What if I don’t want to be in the videos?” I ask.
Harper doesn’t miss a beat, quickly asking, “But why would you want to hide a face as handsome as yours?”
...again he says I’m handsome?
I bite the inside of my cheeks to contain a hiccup, then grumble, “I just… don’t want to reveal my face. If I have to, I won’t do this.”
Harper pouts, grumbling under his breath, “What a waste! Like I said, two cute guys are worth way more views than one.”
Why am I focusing on him calling me cute when I should be upset he’s trying to use me for views?!
“It’s not up for negotiation Harper.”
He studies me for a moment, then relents.
“Ugh, fine. We can work around that,” he mopes. “I’ll blur out your face and make a note for the viewers letting them know you want to remain anonymous, in case someone tries to bother you at work. Something along those lines.”
With my face blurred, no one should be able to determine who I am. With a slow nod, I say, “Alright, we can try out this Physical Friday segment. One more condition though, for the love of god, spell it right!”
“Fysical Friday is cute!”
I open my mouth to argue but he cuts me off.
“Anyway, thanks so much!” Harper grabs my hands, holding them tightly. It sends a jolt up my arm. He’s touchy. I’m not used to touchy.
There’s a knock at the door. Harper releases my hands, leaving my fingers a little chilled.
“That must be the pizza,” he says.
We both rise at the same time. Harper bumps into my chest, almost tripping again, but this time I react. Although, one could argue my reaction is terrible, seeing as I have no choice but to save him by grabbing his waist, which pulls us flush together. Harper stares, wide-eyed and blushing. My lungs forget to take in air. Before he can speak, or I make another horrendous mistake, I shove him back towards the couch. Harper yelps, falling onto his side.
“Sit down. I’ve got it,” I explain, heading for the door. It’s a good excuse to hide my face, seeing as it’s too warm to trust showing Harper.
Then I grab the door and get some paper plates, while Harper waits patiently and oddly quietly. I glance back at him, catching him peering down at his lap, cheeks still tinted pink.
“Um, about the schedule,” he calls just as I’m heading towards him with our meal and drinks. “What do you think about recording Wednesdays and Thursdays after you get off work?”
“You only need two days to record a week’s worth of shows?” I reply, taking the seat beside him. Harper thanks me.
“Well, not exactly. That’s for the local stuff. I always have travel plans for the weekends,” he explains, watching me out of the corner of his eye as he takes a bite of pizza.
“What kind of travel plans?”
“Nothing too far. It’s usually businesses, like family owned hotels and restaurants that are right outside of the city. I definitely need some help with that since I have to carry my equipment around,” he explains, observing my reaction. His green gaze latches onto me, like a scientist who’s found the next big question.
So he’s taking away my weekends too? Sure, I never do much more than lounge around, but it’s nice to have two days of doing absolutely nothing. And that means we’ll be meeting up at least four days out of the week. One time I had to hide in a ditch for four days when I stole a steak from my military commander, after I realized the officers were hoarding the good meat for themselves. It was four whole days of rain, mud, and mosquitos the size of my knee, but for the steak it was worth it.
This experience sounds like it will be at least as torturous as that, and with no promise of steak at the end.
“I’m sorry to take up so much of your time,” Harper says out of the blue, startling me. He lowers his head, shielding his eyes. “I understand if you changed your mind. You already have a fulltime job and I’m cutting into your rest.”
“I said I’d help so I will,” I reply, but Harper’s shoulders remain slumped over.
“I’ll do everything I can to make sure all this isn’t too much of a bother to you,” he continues.
“It’s really fine,” I mutter, curious about his sudden change in mood. Did I happen to say any of my thoughts out loud?
Harper finally looks back at me, eyes dimmer than usual. He shows a dainty smile, “Since you’re going out of your way to help, maybe I can give you some tips on how to decorate your home.”
“No thanks. I’ve seen your place.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?!”
“You can come to a conclusion based on the context.”
Harper pouts, then grins, bouncing back to his usual bubbly personality. I shake off the weird feeling his probing apology gave me, and promise to buy myself a steak when this is all over.
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