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Kelsey’s POV:

          We had just gotten back to London yesterday, and the boys finally had some time off. Well, except for the fact that they had a couple of interviews and shoots here and there. Right now I was at the apartment by myself, and was currently packing my bags.

          I guess I finally had decided that I was going to go Miami, but only for a week. I had told Harry, and he said as long as I was comfortable in going, and even bought my plane tickets – even though I had told him there was no need to do so. That boy was way too sweet for his own good.

          When I had told Logan about me coming, he was extremely happy. I was leaving tomorrow, and I was pretty damn sure that jet lag is going to hit me like a truck when I get to Miami.

          As I packed my shoes in my suitcase, I looked at the clock and noticed that boys would be back soon from wherever they went. Since I was wearing skinny jeans, I felt uncomfortable so I quickly changed into something more comfortable. I put on a pair of short denim shorts, leaving on the shirt I was wearing.

          Feeling a bit hungry, I put a pause on my packing and went down to the kitchen. Deciding to make myself a turkey sandwich, I took out the turkey from the fridge and the mayonnaise and lettuce. Looking around for the bread, I saw that it was on the top of the fridge.

          “Great,” I muttered, closing the door of the fridge. Standing on my tippy toes, I reached my hand up to try and grab the bag of bread but of course, I was too short.

          I was about to give up when suddenly an arm from behind me reached up and grabbed the bag. My eyes widened at the sudden appearance of someone, and I suddenly turned around, looking up to see Harry looking down at me amusedly. “Bread?” he smirks, holding out the bag.

          I bite my bottom lip as I take the bag in both my hands. “Thanks,” I murmur.

          Neither of us moved. Harry and I stood staring at each other, my back pressed up against the fridge as I look at him. “So, uh, did you finish packing?” he asks, still standing right in front of me.

          “Almost,” I reply quietly. Where the hell did my voice go?

          I found myself staring at his lips; pink and full, looking soft as ever. I swallowed the lump in my throat – why the hell was I staring at Harry’s lips? Looking back at Harry’s eyes, I saw that he was already looking at me and a hot blush crept on my cheeks as I looked down, my hair falling to cover my face.

          “You know,” Harry’s raspy voice spoke and I glanced up at him, “you’re cute when you blush.”

          That, of course, caused the blush in my cheeks to deepen and I felt Harry’s hand cup my left cheek, tilting my head up. The two of us were extremely close to each other, barely any space separating us. The only thing that provided the tiny amount of space was the bread packet I was holding in front of me.

          Suddenly, I was aware that Harry was leaning in. Inside, my heart was beating rapidly, and I was positive that Harry could most likely hear it. It was like slow motion how Harry’s lips parted before cupping my face in both hands. Why wasn’t I stopping him? Am I going to let him kiss him? Do I want to kiss him?   

          Because you like him and you don’t want to admit it. And yes, you’re going to let him kiss you and yes, you want him to kiss you.

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