The Other Man [Book One]

Chapter 9 - The Walk

A notification appeared on my phone screen from "Stella," making me immediately press the phone to my chest in alarm. I'd given Harry that code name after our first rendezvous on the off chance that he might initiate contact again. He didn't - at least, not until after our run-in in the alleyway. I held the phone tightly to my chest, and made sure that no one was near enough to read the message over my shoulder.

The first text had arrived as soon as he'd left - only an hour or so after our little meeting in the alley. Will had tried to call me over to say goodbye, but I'd just waved and called over a 'thanks for coming' before turning back to the conversation I'd been having with Terry.

The messages had started innocently enough; a thank you for the party and gentle persuasions that I should meet him again. Quickly, however, it became apparent that he'd made use of the margarita table - he was drunk and very descriptive of what he had planned for me if we were to be alone again. I would internally moan as I spoke to my guests, feeling the vibration in my pocket that announced the arrival of a new filth-filled message. Excusing myself, I would reply and encourage him. The only things keeping me from jumping in a taxi and going to Harry's was the lack of excuse to suddenly leave my own party, and Rose's words of discouragement.

When the last guest left and Rose disappeared up to collapse in the spare room she always slept in when she stayed over, I realised Will was furious. Worried he knew what I had done with Harry, I silently watched as he slammed around the garden, putting the furniture back in order, his full temper bubbling to the surface. He wouldn't talk until we'd tidied the garden completely, a job that could have been done the following morning, but he was making some sort of point.

As I loaded the last dishes into the dishwasher to be washed when I got up, I felt Will behind me, waiting for me to stand up straight. I reluctantly closed the dishwasher door, my body freezing when he hissed harshly, voice thick with rage as he spoke close to my ear. "If you speak to my clients like you spoke to Harry Styles ever again, I will not be responsible for my actions. Do you hear me?"

I nodded quickly, regretting that I'd let Harry affect my behaviour around Will. He'd never liked me being the center of attention, or overly friendly, but with clients I had to be at least polite, and I'd forgotten that in my annoyance. My husband, I reminded myself as I stood rigid and still until I heard him leave the kitchen heading upstairs, expected so little and I'd managed to fuck up the one thing he did ask of me.

Hearing Will's footsteps in the bedroom above me, I relaxed with a heavy sigh and a racing heart. Sitting at the marble breakfast bar, I looked at my phone and reread the messages Harry and I had exchanged over the evening. He'd said goodnight over an hour before but I imagined asking if he was still awake and if he'd like some company. In my fantasy, he'd say yes straight away, so I'd sneak out and flag a passing cab, giving them Harry's address. I'd arrive at some blurry location, a vague picture in my imagination of the sort of place he would live in - it didn't matter, because we'd be there alone. The door would barely be closed before clothes were flying off, both of us aching with need to touch each other and continue what we'd started in the alley, with no awkwardness at all, just pure lust. We'd have sex in his living room, frantic and hot on the floor, before moving to his bedroom for round two.