Tangerine

Chapter 18

Soundtrack: The Animals - Don't Let Me Be Misunderstood (1965)

Dedication: Mina — I'm not sure if you have a Wattpad account, but I always see you staying updated with Tangerine on Twitter and I love you for it! Thanks so much for using the #TangerineFanfiction hashtag and sharing the love. Your feedback really keeps me going :) — Jen

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My driver parks across the street.

I climb the familiar front steps and knock on the large wooden door. My heart hasn't stopped pounding since I ditched Sam at the batting cages, but I can't tell if it's because of my lingering fury or my currently knotted stomach. Why my stomach is in knots right now, I'm not entirely sure, but I'm here and that's that.

The door opens.

"Harry," I fall into the younger lad's arms, closing my eyes as I rest my head on his chest.

"Hey, Scar," Harry hums warmly. "You alright?"

I smile up at him, keeping my arms locked around his waist. "Better already."

"Good," Harry smirks down at me, brushing a strand of hair away from my cheek. "I've got something to show you."

"Do you?" I shiver at his touch.

Harry nods, keeping his eyes locked with mine. "You'll have to come inside if you want to try it out, though. Do you want to?"

A ripple of intrigue courses through my body. "Yeah, I want to."

Harry locks the door behind me once I step inside. As I'm removing my shoes and my jacket, I happen to catch his lingering gaze. Harry leads me into his lounge, a familiar setting by now, and there it sits regally: a brand new massage chair.

I chuckle, flustered that Harry would introduce a massage chair in such an intriguing manner. I don't know what I was expecting, but it wasn't this. "Is this what you wanted to show me?"

"Yeah!" Harry joins me in admiring his chair. "It's brand new. Like it?"

"Yeah," I near the machine, looking it over. "When can I try it out?"

"In just a second," Harry smiles. "Would you like a beer?"

"Definitely," I return his expression, letting him pop off to the kitchen.

Harry reappears before I register that he's gone, though he's got three bottles in hand rather than two.

"Here, Scar," Harry cracks open one of the beers for me, placing the third on the table.

"Thanks, love," I return the sentiment with a smile, clinking the necks of our bottles together. "Double-fisting, are we?"

"What?" Harry chuckles, bewildered.

"You've got two bottles for yourself," I clarify, gesturing to the third beer on the table.

"Oh," Harry grins bashfully. "No, that one's for Lou."

"Which Lou?" I ask, thinking also of our hair and make-up artist.

"This Lou!" calls a high, raspy voice behind me. I turn around to see Louis with his arms open and outstretched. I laugh out loud, going in for a hug. He kisses me quickly on the cheek as he pulls me in. "Hey, Scar."

"Hey, Louis," I gently pull away.

"What, Harry gets love and I get Louis?" he smirks.