Nothing Good Gets Away

Chapter 47

HARRY STYLES

As I see my last client out at a quarter to nine, I make quick work of sanitizing my station just so I can get out of here and go to see Rowan. It's been two weeks since the assault, so it's not like she's bedridden or anything, but I still make it a point to be there every night to help moisturize the stitches on her back that she can't reach. I've also been doing her hand, simply because she can't stand the sight of the stitches.

"H, you wanna come out with us tonight?" Simon asks, standing around with Zayn and our other coworkers. "We're just going up the street."

"Can't," I fake an apologetic look. "Thanks, though."

"Why not?" Justin scoffs. "What else do you have to do on a Saturday night?"

"He has to go play doctor," Zayn answers. "His girlfriend has stitches."

"Not my girlfriend, but thanks for the reminder," I grab my iPad and keys from my workbench. "I'll see you guys later, have fun tonight."

They're still calling out to me, trying to get me to change my mind as I leave through the back door. Strangely enough, Rowan calls me before I have a chance to get the car started to warm up the engine a bit.

"Hello?"

"Hey, you haven't left work yet, have you?" She sounds panicked.

"No, why? What's wrong?"

"Thank God. Can you bring me chicken nuggets and French fries from McDonald's? I'll Venmo you. Oh, and a small Coke?"

I give my steering wheel a look of both shock and horror. "Are you out of your fucking mind? You want to eat McDonald's?"

"Please," she whines out a laugh. "I'm really craving it, and I know you like it too. Please, please, please?"

"Rowan," I laugh as I push the engine to a start and buckle up, "you don't have to beg, I'm just shocked. We've been friends for just under two years and I've never seen you eat McDonald's, or any fast food for that matter."

"I try my best to limit my intake of whatever McDonald's chicken is made out of–but also, ask for buffalo sauce, and also, please hurry. My back is so itchy!"

I close my eyes for a second, laughing as I shift the gear into drive. "I'll be there as soon as I can."

"K, thank you, bye!"

Shaking my head, I hang up and drop my phone in the center consul to head to the McDonald's closest to our complex. I place her order and choose a burger with chips and a Coke to have for myself. The bag is still hot by the time I park and head up the lift to get to her flat, using my own key to let myself in.

"Yay!" She shouts upon my arrival, and Scout barks in all his own excitement.

"You're insane," I bring the bag over to the table. "I mean, really. Should I call your dad? Hold an intervention for you?"

"Uh-uh," she pops a skinny chip in her mouth. "Wow, that's salty."

"Yeah, I think that's one of their dominant ingredients," I sit beside her on the couch, noticing her damp hair before I smell her shampoo. As horrendously pathetic and selfish as it sounds, I'm almost sad that she can wash her own hair again. It was fun doing that in her kitchen sink for her when she was too scared to get her stitches wet.

"So how was your day?" She asks. "Did you tattoo Brad Pitt again?"

I shake my head, laughing as I bite into my burger. "I never tattooed him in the first place, and no, Brad Pitt didn't make an appearance today."