The Other Man [Book One]

Chapter 38 - Happily

The sound of Harry's voice seemed to trigger me into finally reacting to him being in front of me. Clutching my chest in shock, I made an attempted at a casual laugh. "Jesus, Harry! You scared the shit out of me."

I walked over to the sink near where he stood and tried to hide the fact my hands were shaking. The cold water was numbing, making me wish there was a way I could run the cold tap over my heart so it would calm down a little. There were only three basins, so we were stood fairly close together. Smelling his cologne awoke so many memories but, most of all, reminded me of being in his car and burying my face in his neck as he asked me to leave Will.

Harry didn't say anything or attempt an apology for making me jump. He just watched me wash and dry my hands. The silence was agonizing as he continued what felt like a hygiene inspection, not once looking away from me.

"You look nice." His eyes were fixed on me with such cold intensity that the flashback of how he'd looked at me with disgust in my dream hit me like a hammer to the skull.

Despite my nerves, I had felt good about myself and the way I looked. I'd wanted to make sure my hair was perfect, my manicure was fresh, and the floral summer dress I'd agonised over wearing accentuated all the parts of my figure that Harry liked. I'd felt like a knockout. Despite his words, the compliment hadn't felt genuine and I immediately felt ugly.

"You, too." Hoping my voice didn't shake, I gave a weak smile then nodded to his crazily patterned monochrome shirt. "That's very... jazzy."

The corner of Harry's mouth pulled up, knocking me out with a dimple and a toothy grin. "I like it."

I was expecting something from him. Anything! I got nothing except more awkward silence. Suddenly, I felt annoyed by the cheek of him daring to follow me. He wasn't there to apologise or to make things right - he wanted me to forgive him without doing any of the hard work.

"Did you want something? I have to get back to Rose, and you have a show to do."

As if reminded he was meant to be performing in half an hour, he took a step closer to me and touched the hand I had balled into a fist as it steadied me on the counter,

"Are you coming for drinks at the hotel later?"

I moved my hand away from his and asked with a tight smile, "Why on earth would I do that?"

"I... I was hoping you'd be able to sneak away, so we could talk?"

Harry's moment of realisation had come: he had done too much damage for me to fall into his arms asking for his room number, or pull him into the cubicle I'd just left so I could drop to my knees in gratitude for him deeming me worthy of his attention again.

"Talk? Talk about what?"

"Uh, us?"

I scoffed and shook my head. "There stopped being an 'us' when you asked me to leave my husband then blocked my number, Harry."