Chapter Thirty-Seven

3.4K 140 85
                                    



From: Sandy
Hey babe! I miss you :( let's hang soon? ;) xx

Harry read the message and quickly locked his phone, sitting it down on the towel Annabelle had been laying on before she went to the shore of the ocean to build sandcastles. She was such a child and Harry loved it. Harry didn't want Annabelle to know anything about his few visits with Sandy before he started dating Annabelle. Of course, he had liked her since the moment he laid eyes on her, but was it wrong that him and Sandy had done a few risky things before he started dating Annabelle? It's not like he pursued Sandy or ever tried to make a move on her. She was always the one coming onto him, whether he liked it or not. Harry was too nice to tell her to leave him alone or kick her out. I mean, he wasn't complaining that he got a free blowjob that one time. He definitely wouldn't admit that though, especially not to Annabelle or Sandy. If he were to tell Sandy, she would just come back and try to get into his pants again, literally. If he told Annabelle that Sandy was the one who left her lipstick on his neck the first night they shared a slightly intimate moment, she would immediately close herself back up and be more than upset and pissed off. Annabelle wouldn't tell Harry much about her years in high school, but she did share the fact that Sandy was never nice to her until after they graduated. She still didn't know Sandy was the person who texted her such rude things back when her and Harry were becoming close. Harry had mixed feelings about the whole situation, but he knew that he wouldn't let anything get between him and Annabelle's relationship that was finally becoming stronger than he ever expected it to. He knew it took a lot for Annabelle to open up to him so much, he respected her privacy and didn't want to push her more than she could take. He did push her a bit, if he didn't then she would have never even went on a date with him. Now she was beginning to do open up by herself, without having to be pushed a little bit by Harry.

"Nice sandcastle." Harry said as he helped Annabelle stand up. She shrugged as if it were nothing and walked into the crashing waves until the water was at her waist. Harry, again, tried to pull her deeper into the water, but she refused. Apparently there was a shark in the water close to shore yesterday and the lifeguard had to pull everyone out of the ocean for the rest of the day. It was their fourth day at the beach and Harry hadn't been able to make her go back into the water as much as she did the first day. She might've been a scaredy-cat, but she wasn't stupid.

Harry started walking further into the ocean, but she grabbed his hand and stopped him. Why would she let him go into the shark infested waters if she wouldn't even let herself?

"Come onnn, I wanna go out there," Harry whined, but when Annabelle let go of his hand with a nervous look on her face, he couldn't help but ditch his plans and stand closer to her. She rinsed off her body, her t-shirt becoming wet and transparent (yes, she had washed her white t-shirt and continued to wear it over her bikini every day). Harry examined her body for the thousandth time that week and ran his tongue over his lips that were salty from the ocean water.

"You know," he began, tugging at her t-shirt, "You can see everything through that shirt. Not that I'm complaining or anything." He smirked, watching her eyes roll. She knew you could see through her shirt, but what you couldn't see were the old scars where her thigh met her hip, or the stretch marks on her hips, back, and butt. Annabelle knew she wasn't fat, she had nothing against being fat, but with all the working out she had been doing lately and all the not eating she had been doing lately, she had finally reach her weight goal and was kind of okay with her body. She felt more fit than she used to, but not fit enough to show her body off to the whole beach and her boyfriend. The t-shirt was about hiding her imperfections that she wasn't proud of and feeling covered up.

Annabelle walked back up to her umbrella and sat beside Gemma, who was on the phone. By the way Gemma's cheeks were pink and her eyes were sparkling, Annabelle could tell she was talking to a guy.

Speak |h.s. a.u.|Where stories live. Discover now