Harold Beaumont's Bruises

Short Chapter

Harold's POV

The chill of the water feels great against my heated skin. Holding my breath, I keep my head under the shower head, the entire gym locker room empty.

I would have taken off right then and there when Toby convinced me that since I have feelings for Joey, I have to go after her.
Hell, I'd run across the entire city for her.

Yet, I don't want to show up with a layer of sweat and grim from beating up people all day. So, here I am, trying to wash away the anger away, along with the sweat.

I think the one place in the entire world I'm never angry is the shower. The quiet, the water pressure, even the steam pacify me.

"Harry!" I hear Toby rush into the locker room, the door falling shut behind him. "I got it, man."

Twisting the faucets off, I knot a scratchy towel around my hips, but don't care enough to complain. Toby rushes up with a zipped garment bag, his cheeks a bit flushed from the haste. My best friend is such a great friend. Toby, this fantastic human being, went all the way to my penthouse to pick up my suit. He must have really loved those rom-coms, the suit was his idea.

"You sure Joey will like this?" I question.

"Definitely. Joey said she loves men in suits when we were watching Breakfast At Tiffany's." Toby enthusiastically nods. "Do you remember the plan?"

"Yeah," I manage a nod. "I show up with as many bouquets of flower as I can carry. Then I whisk her off to a candlelight dinner by the Mississippi River, a stroll through Jackson Square, then with a big finish for live music down on Frenchmen street."

"Damn, if I wasn't straight, I'd date you." Toby says with an impressed tone.

"I really needed to hear that." I grin, feeling a bit more confident.

Later

My hands are sweaty.

My heart is missing every other beat.

My suit feels like it's suffocating me.

I've been pacing in front of Joey's apartment since the sun was up. Now it's seven forty five. I hug dozens of boutiques of flowers to my chest, their sweet smell of reminding me of Joey. The reservation is up in minutes.

I'm dying to see Joey. I've been restless since I haven't seen her smile in days. Yet, I can't get myself to move past the door to her building.

Will she even speak to me, let alone forgive me? I was so awful to her in the dark room. I wouldn't blame her if she hates me now. If I was her I'd slam the door in my face after being treated like that.

Probably the best thing for Joey is if she hates me. I'm such an ass. I'm downright terrible to just about everyone. I'm violent. I'm abrasive. I'm rude. I have anger management issues.

I don't want to be crude with Joey. I hate making her frown, yet I've managed to make her cry for days on end.

What if I ruin her?

Threatening large storm clouds suddenly take away the evening light. Just as I tilt my head up, thick drops of water suddenly plummet down on me. Heavy rain pounds against the concrete, sending pedestrians running for cover. The rain seeps through my suit, immediately soaking me to the bone.

Damn it.