Off The Record Ch. 17

Another softer chapter while they fall hopelessly in love with each other...

I'm leaning into the romance hard with these two, so I hope you don't mind me dragging out their happily ever after.

That being said, I think we're looking at about ten-ish more chapters for the story as a whole, depending on how I decide to break things up. But I'm so in love with both of them that I'm determined to take my time with the story resolution.

Hope you enjoy <3

All characters are over 18.

***

"Holy shit," Cam's voice cut into Harper's focus. "Harper, you have to see this play."

Harper sighed and closed her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose where she sat at her desk in her bedroom.

As happy as it made her that meeting Morgan had made Cam a little less concerned about their relationship, the incessant fangirl chatter over Morgan for the past hour had made it impossible for Harper to focus on the trial update she was trying to send over to Erin before five o'clock.

After meeting her at the foster event, Cameron had taken it upon herself to scour the internet for information about Morgan's time at Stanford.

Apparently, Morgan had been really fucking good at soccer. Like, good enough that, had she chosen to, she could have pursued a professional career and potentially made it to the women's national team. She had been the only freshman to make the varsity team her first year at Stanford, and had consistently been the team's most reliable center field striker until her responsibilities to her family and Olivia took priority during her senior year. In the NCAA championship game of her sophomore year, she had scored five goals, becoming the youngest and only female player to do so in the school's history.

As a massive soccer fan, Cam had instantly been one hundred times more interested in Morgan, and by extension, her relationship with Harper.

The three of them had even gone out to dinner together, and Harper had had to resist the urge to crawl under the table when Cam had relentlessly badgered Morgan with questions about her collegiate soccer career.

When asked why she hadn't pursued the sport further than the college level, Morgan had humbly explained that while she'd enjoyed playing soccer, it was more of an extracurricular, social thing for her, and her passion had always been law.

Now, thanks to Cam, Harper had seen dozens of clips of Morgan playing soccer, and while she thoroughly enjoyed seeing a younger Morgan in action, Harper feared that her sister's obsession with her was beginning to rival her own.

"Your girlfriend is insanely talented." Cam said from where she was laying sprawled across Harper's bed. "A division one athlete who could have probably qualified for the Olympics, taking on the city of New York as a kickass defense attorney. I mean, come on. Was she made in a fucking lab?"

This made Harper swivel in her chair to face her. "She's not my girlfriend," she said firmly. No matter how badly she wanted it to be true, Harper couldn't allow herself to fall into that sort of thinking--not when there were still so many unknowns where the trial was concerned.

If Harper had to wager a guess, she was fairly confident that Morgan reciprocated her feelings to some extent. She could feel it in the way she looked at her and spoke to her.

The sex had become incredibly intimate as well; the trust and affection they'd been showing each other when they spent the night together was undeniable.

But those observations weren't nearly enough for Harper to put her heart on the line and risk the collapse of everything she and Morgan had built.

Cam's eyebrows inched toward her hairline. "Whatever you say," she said, clearly unconvinced. "I'll rephrase--the woman who you've been exclusively seeing and sleeping with for a month who cares about you enough to come to a foster care event is insanely talented."

Harper sighed again.

"Harper," Cam said quietly. "I don't want to meddle."

"Hasn't stopped you before," Harper quipped, crossing her arms across her chest, feeling her defenses go up.

Cam sighed, sitting up on the bed so that she could look at her properly. "You know that I still don't entirely approve of what the two of you are doing," she said. "And, honestly, after meeting her, I'm even more worried than I was before."

Harper lifted her head, confused. "What do you--"

"Because I can see how invested you two are in each other."

Harper picked at a section of torn leather in her desk chair. "Why is that a bad thing?"

"It's not," she said, her tone gentle. "But the fact that you're in love with her complicates things," Cam said bluntly.

Harper choked on the breath she'd just taken. She didn't bother denying it, though. She simply met Cam's steady gaze, knowing that her sister would see the truth in her eyes, regardless of what she said.

Cam gave her a lopsided grin. "Did you really think I wouldn't be able to tell? Harper, you've never told anyone that you've dated about your past, let alone invited her to a foster care event."

"To be fair, she sort of invited herself," Harper protested weakly.

"Still," she said. "I've never seen you place that type of trust in anyone. And I have a sneaking suspicion that she feels the same way about you. And if that's the case, the two of you need to talk about it before this trial ends, because you need a plan."

Harper looked down at her hands, wringing them together. "We're figuring it out," she muttered.

Leave it to Cam to force Harper to confront the thoughts that had been plaguing her for the past two weeks.

The trial wasn't over yet, but they were definitely past the halfway point. It was only a matter of time before they would need to make a decision regarding the publicity of their relationship, especially when they took into account Morgan's growing popularity.

"When are you seeing her again?" Cam asked.

Harper blew out a breath, checking her watch. "Tonight." She fought the blush that crept up her neck, hyperaware of Cam's eyes on her.

In a move that had surprised Harper in the best way, Morgan had texted yesterday asking to see her tonight, being entirely upfront in telling her that she wanted to have sex.

Apparently, she'd had a rough week, and Harper was more than happy to help her work out her stress.

But it was hard to be excited about it when all of these doubts were lingering in the back of her mind. She dropped her head into her hands.

Cam got off the bed and came over to her, tugging her out of the chair and pulling her into a hug.

"I just don't want to see you get hurt," she said. "Talk to her. And keep in mind that you can't ruin this for me," Cam teased, her hand running soothingly up and down her back. "I really like her."

Harper laughed harshly, giving her sister a tight squeeze. "Me too."

***

The door opened before Harper could actually knock, her fist raised and at the ready.

Morgan pulled her inside and barely took the time to close the door behind her before she crushed her lips to Harper's, pressing her back against the apartment door.

"You're late," she whispered, squeezing at Harper's waist playfully.

Harper slid her hand to the back of Morgan's neck, pulling her in for a softer, slower kiss. She nipped at her bottom lip before she pulled back. "I had a deadline for this trial I'm covering. Maybe you've heard about it? It's kind of a big deal."

Smoothly, Harper flipped their positions, pressing Morgan against the door, her mouth finding hers again.

Harper's hands instantly found the hem of Morgan's shirt, fingertips splaying across the warm skin of her abdomen.

Morgan exhaled into her mouth before pulling back to break the kiss. "Wait," she said, breathless. "Um..."

Harper tilted her head at her. "Are you okay?" She traced a finger down the front of Morgan's shirt. "I thought you wanted tonight to be about decompressing from your long week. You don't want to have sex?"

"Of course I do," Morgan said. "I just thought we could relax for a little bit, first."

She seemed jittery and awkward, which was rare for her.

Narrowing her eyes slightly, Harper searched her face for a sign that something was wrong, but Morgan was just looking back at her steadily.

"Okay," Harper said gently, offering her a smile. "Living room?"

Morgan nodded, and Harper backed off from where she'd had her backed up against the door, moving further into the apartment--

And stumbled to an abrupt stop when she saw Morgan's living room.

The lights were dimmed low, with a few candles scattered around the room to create a tranquil ambiance. A bottle of red wine stood on the coffee table next to two glasses that had already been poured out.

A beautiful charcuterie board accompanied the glasses, covered in a spread of crackers, meats, cheeses, and fruit.

"You didn't really think you could get away with letting your birthday pass unnoticed, did you?" Morgan asked, stepping around her.

Harper whirled on her, narrowing her eyes. "Who told you?"

Morgan smiled softly at her, taking her by the hand and leading her further into the room. "A wise woman once told me to never reveal my sources."

"Was it Cam?" Harper demanded to know. "I knew I shouldn't have let you exchange numbers."

It wasn't that Harper hated her birthday or anything. She just simply didn't really care about it. February 1st came and went every year, just like every other day on the calendar. Usually, she and Cam had a lowkey dinner together to celebrate, and that was that.

"My lips are sealed," Morgan said playfully, grabbing the wine glasses and handing one to Harper. "Although, I should have known. You definitely give off very Aquarius vibes."

Harper quirked a questioning eyebrow, daring her to elaborate. "Oh, do I?"

"Mmhmm," Morgan hummed, clinking their glasses together. "Intelligent. Independent." She gave Harper a pointed look. "Stubborn."

Harper scoffed, taking a sip of her wine. "Please," she mumbled. "When's your birthday?"

"August 20th."

"Of course you're a Leo," Harper said. "Bold, charismatic, confident to a fault," she teased.

Morgan rolled her eyes good-naturedly even as she pulled Harper around the couch to sit. "You can't possibly expect me to believe that someone as pragmatic as you puts any stock in astrological signs." She smirked. "And besides, you like my confidence."

Harper made a noncommittal sound, refusing to outright agree with her.

"Dinner is in the oven, but I figured we could pick at this until it's ready," she said, indicating the charcuterie board in front of them.

Harper tried and failed to contain the shock that crossed her face. "You cooked for me?"

"Don't look so surprised. And scared." Morgan laughed at the concern that Harper knew was etched into her expression. "If it sucks--or if it's unsafe for human consumption--we'll order takeout."

They both settled back on the couch.

"I'm sorry that I sprung this on you," Morgan said, plucking a cube of pepperjack cheese from the table. "If your birthday isn't something you usually celebrate. And I know it's not technically until tomorrow, but I knew I wouldn't be seeing you until after it passed and I would have felt awful if I didn't do anything for you."

Harper leaned back, looking down into her wine glass. "I don't mind my birthday. It's just that birthdays weren't really a thing for me when I was growing up. My mom didn't trust anyone to come into our house, so it's not like I could have my friends over for parties, anyway." She shrugged, shaking herself out of the memory and eyeing Morgan with amusement. "But you know that you didn't have to lure me over here under the pretense of having sex, right?"

Morgan laughed, and it sounded different than her usual laugh. It sounded almost nervous?

"This was sort of a last minute thing I decided to do," she said. "And I did have a rough week at work, so sex isn't entirely off the table..."

She flicked those blue eyes at her, glinting with their usual flirtation.

A timer went off in the kitchen. "Moment of truth," Morgan said with a wink, standing and extending her hand to Harper to lead her to the kitchen.

Dinner was delicious. Morgan had made them chicken parmesan, remembering Harper's love of Italian food. She had even made her own garlic butter for the bread that she'd paired with it.

While they ate, Morgan explained why the trial had her particularly stressed this week. Due to other story commitments, Harper hadn't been in court daily, having relied on her interviews with Morgan and the livestream to piece her coverage together. Apparently, there had been a few outbursts from Jackie's family members in the courtroom in reaction to the graphic images of the crime scene that were being shown. It had gotten so severe at one point that Judge Richter had been forced to threaten a few spectators with being held in contempt of court.

The guilt was eating Morgan alive, and it killed Harper to see her so distraught over simply doing her job.

And to make matters worse, Angela and her team had continued their brutal onslaught of relentless questioning of each and every witness called, dragging it all out for far longer than was necessary. Some days, they'd only managed to get through one or two witnesses.

Morgan was convinced that Angela was doing it to expose the jury to the photos and the gory details for as much time as possible simply in an attempt to enhance their level of sympathy, regardless of what the forensic evidence actually said.

When their stomachs had settled, Morgan shooed Harper out of the kitchen and told her to go wait on the couch for her, a cute little smile on her lips.

Suspicious but wildly curious, Harper indulged her, waiting patiently in the living room.

A few minutes later, Morgan came out of the kitchen carrying a cupcake with a single candle protruding from its center, its flame flickering gently as she made her way across the room.

"I'm not going to torment you with my singing, but it's red velvet with cream cheese frosting," Morgan said. "From that bakery a few blocks over that you mentioned you wanted to try."

Harper smiled at her, reaching for the cupcake, but Morgan held it back.

"Make a wish," she said, reaching out with her other hand to hold Harper's hair away from the flame. "Something worthy of the big twenty-eight."

Harper's heart felt like it was cracking open in her chest as she looked into the beautiful eyes of the woman she loved.

She wished things were simpler. She wished they didn't have to hide. She wished she was brave enough to tell Morgan exactly how she felt about her.

Harper held Morgan's gaze while she leaned forward and blew out the candle with one strong blow.

"Split it with me," Harper said, echoing the same words that Morgan had said to her in this exact spot the first time Harper had come to Morgan's apartment all those months ago. It felt like an entire lifetime had passed since then.

Harper reached out and ran her thumb across the perfect Cupid's bow of Morgan's upper lip, wiping away some frosting that she'd gotten on her mouth.

"Thank you for all of this," Harper said quietly. "It was very sweet of you."

Morgan shrugged, waving her off with a smile. "It was nothing." And then, much more quietly, she added, "You deserve the world."

But before Harper could think of a response, Morgan averted her sapphire gaze, focusing on pouring them both more wine.

By the time they'd finished dessert, Harper was several glasses of wine deep, the two of them having easily finished the first bottle, already putting an impressive dent in the second.

The whole night had been incredibly romantic, and the alcohol was making Harper feel much less guarded than she usually would.

She allowed her eyes to roam down Morgan's profile, taking in the sheer magnitude of her beauty. Her head was resting in her hand, her elbow propped up against the back of the couch. She looked so at peace, so much less tense than Harper usually experienced her in their professional world.

"What?" Morgan asked softly.

Startled back to the present, Harper took another sip of wine and asked the question that had crossed her mind every single time she had seen Morgan since the day she met her. "Why are you single?"

Morgan blinked at her. "What?" She asked again, a touch of amusement to her tone this time.

Harper searched her eyes, the reflection of the candles transforming them into molten blue fire. "I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop," Harper said, her voice barely above a whisper. "But the more I get to know you, the more convinced I am that you're perfect."

"You're brilliant," Harper elaborated, tracing patterns over Morgan's knee with her thumb. "You're accomplished, thoughtful, funny, and kind." She offered a tipsy smile. "And you're the most beautiful woman I've ever met." She groaned, biting her lip as memories with Morgan in the bedroom flitted through her mind in delicious little bits and pieces. "You're phenomenal in bed..." Harper trailed off, leaning in closer. "I really think that you might just be completely and utterly perfect, Miss Monroe. And I doubt there's a single woman in New York City who wouldn't jump at the opportunity to be with you." She drained the rest of her glass of wine, eyeing Morgan over the rim as she did so. "So," she said again, "why are you single?"

Morgan ran a hand through her hair, and Harper thought she saw a rosy blush spreading across her cheeks.

Harper watched Morgan swallow hard before she answered. "I don't think I've ever truly been looking." She swirled her wine around her glass thoughtfully. "Sure, I've dated and I've been in relationships, but my focus for a long time was always my career. Pass the bar, land the big cases and the big clients. I didn't really have the time or the energy to commit to someone the way that they deserved." She took a long pull of her wine. "Especially in the years immediately after Olivia died, I wasn't in any place emotionally to dedicate myself to someone else."

Harper was struck by how incredibly lucky she was to be in the position that she'd found herself, caught in Morgan's orbit, fortunate enough to be the focus of her attention and desire.

"So, what were you doing at Lavender the night we met?" Harper asked. "If you weren't looking for anything?"

Morgan sighed, smiling at her. "I have no idea." She reached out and stroked her thumb across Harper's cheekbone. "But I'm glad I was there. Right place, right time," she murmured. Her hand moved south, cradling Harper's jaw. "Do you believe in fate?"

In that gentle touch, it felt like Morgan was confessing something to her.

Harper swallowed hard. "I'm more of a make your own luck kind of girl." She could hear the tension in her own voice, could feel the tightness in her throat, those three dangerous words threatening to climb up. "But I do think that sometimes, things happen for a reason."

Morgan met her eye for a beat before she cleared her throat, pulling her hand back. "I also got you something."

Harper furrowed her brow as Morgan got up and left the room briefly, returning seconds later with a small package in her hands.

"It's nothing special, but I have a publisher friend who owed me a favor," she said, shrugging as she handed Harper a small, rectangular gift wrapped in cute floral paper.

"You really didn't have to get me anything," Harper said, her heart swelling as the level of thought that Morgan had put into this evening really hit her.

Not only had she provided drinks, dinner, and dessert, but she'd also been thoughtful enough to buy Harper a birthday present.

Giving her a curious smile, Harper pulled at the paper--

And nearly gasped when she saw what it was.

It was a deluxe, illustrated special edition of Frankenstein in pristine condition, its glossy blue cover catching the light of the candle on the coffee table.

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