Road Trip (H.S.)

Chapter 12

Felicity

I wake up in the morning buried underneath the duvet cover of the bed upstairs. I don't remember making my way up here last night because the last thing I can recall is sitting on the couch with Harry and Lou. Had I passed out from exhaustion? The thought of Harry carrying me up the stairs into this room after I've fallen asleep on the couch sends a wave of embarrassment through my body. Maybe he didn't carry me. I don't know why my mind instantly jumped to that conclusion because he could have certainly woken me up to leave the couch. Or maybe I walked up here and just don't remember.

It's a little after seven in the morning and as I look over at Harry snoozing on the trundle beside me, I almost don't want to disturb him. The thin white blanket that came with the trundle is barely up to his waist, showcasing the bare skin of his back as he sleeps on his stomach. His hair is a mess, sprawled across his forehead and over his eyes. From my spot on the bed, I watch the slow rising and falling of his back as he breathes.

Subconsciously, I reach out and push some of his hair away from his eyes, my fingers lingering across his soft skin. For the first time I notice a little stubble around his jawline and just how pink his lips appear to be. I feel mesmerized for a moment, so caught up in his looks that I don't realize I've woken him up. I'm suddenly met with his green eyes staring directly at me. A lazy smile begins to form across his lips before his hand gently sets on top of mine.

"Good morning," I quietly say as I laugh to try and mask the embarrassment I feel for having been caught this way. 

He groans tiredly and rolls onto his side to face me, still holding onto my hand. "Good morning, babycakes. Is it time for us to leave?"

"Not right now. But I think it's probably best for you to wake up now and get your brain going," I gently slide my hand out from between his cheek and his own hand, earning a slight frown.

He shuts his eyes and buries his head into the pillow. "I like being woken up this way. Don't rip the covers off me like you did the other day. One day I might be naked underneath them ... unless you're into that kind of thing then go ahead."

I roll my eyes and shake my head. "I'm going to get ready. You should get up."

As I stand from the bed and walk over to my duffle, Harry props himself up on his elbows, turning his head to the side so that his hand can rub his eyes awake. "Can we just sleep here for a little bit longer? We don't need to be in a rush to see Niall in Nashville. I know the guy and he's going to keep us out drinking the whole night. I suggest we get all the rest we can." He pauses for a moment, his face twisting into a curious expression as if he's thinking of something. "Wait, how well can you hold your alcohol?"

"I don't know. Pretty well, I think," I shrug as I turn back to face my duffle. On nights that I go out with Sierra, I'm usually the one in charge so that we don't get ourselves into any real trouble, which leads me to not drink very much. I can feel the effects of alcohol after two drinks, but I've never gotten sick, so maybe that means I can hold my own.

"I know that look," Harry states as he shifts to sit on the edge of the trundle bed. "You're lying. You're not going to be able to handle a night with him."

"Says who?" I ask as I spin around to look at him, crossing my arms over my chest and feeling defensive. "You don't know me. I could probably drink more than you."

Harry bursts into a fit of laughter, rolling on his back and covering his face with his hands. I feel slightly embarrassed that he's laughing at me, so all I can do is scowl in his direction and wait for him to shut up.

"Oh god," he giggles, pretending to wipe away a nonexistent tear from his eye. "You definitely cannot drink more than me, which means you most certainly will not be able to handle a night at a bar with Niall. Babycakes, you're in for a surprise. But it's okay, I'll look out for you."