Chapter 8

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"Can we talk?" Harry finally speaks. One of his hands is shoved in his pocket while the other is threaded through his hair.

"Uh, sure..." I nod and sit down on the edge of my bed. He leans against my desk and faces me with his arms crossed over his chest.

I'm suddenly ten times more anxious. Is he going to tell me how much he regretted it? How terrible what we had done was? Even though that's what he should feel, that's not want I want to hear.

I nervously pick at the polish on my nails, allowing him to start this dreaded, yet necessary conversation.

"About last night..." He stops, like he doesn't know what to say.

"Can we just forget about it?" I blurt out. "I'm sorry I did it, I was just really drunk... I know that's not an excuse, but I really am sorry."

"You don't have to apologize, Avery, I should be the one saying sorry."

"Then let's just forget about it." I know that's not going to happen, but it's what needs to.

Harry lets out a deep sigh, almost like he's contemplating saying something, but he remains silent. He finally nods slowly before standing up and walking towards the door.

"Harry..." I sigh. Did he not want to forget about it? Does he not regret it? I wish he would say something!

He stops and looks at me, waiting for me to finish that thought. He looks almost disappointed, or maybe that's just what I see because that's what I want him to feel. Maybe he really is happy that I'm not going to make a big deal out of this.

I pat the spot next to me on my bed, and he complies to the motion by sitting down.

"...What were you going to say when you came in? You think we should just forget about it too, right?"

He sighs again, and I feel like I really am going to go crazy. I want nothing more than to read his mind at this point. "No, I wasn't, Avery." He admits.

My heart begins to race. Harry finally looks to me, and suddenly we're way too close to each other on this bed.

"You don't want to either." He whispers with a straight face, somehow seeming to read my thoughts.

My breath catches at his closeness, but I find myself shaking my head slowly.

"I liked it too." He keeps his voice low. Before I know it, his mouth is only inches away from mine... So close I can smell the mint of his toothpaste.

His mouth is on mine before I have time to gather a coherent thought. My hands instinctively go to his head and thread through his thick hair.

He moves so his body is hovering over mine on the bed as his tongue dips into my mouth. He groans, making my body tingle even more. God, how could I forget about this? How he makes me feel like this?

Once we're both out of breath, Harry pulls his face away, but he still remains over me. His eyes burn into me as they bore into mine. Now I wish I could tell what he's thinking at this moment.

His hand moves to tuck a piece of hair behind my ear before cupping my face. "I don't want to forget about it, Ave." He whispers.

I shiver as goosebumps cover my body with his words. What am I supposed to say? That was amazing, no doubt, but my conscience is telling me that this is wrong, and it needs to end. He's practically your brother... He hooks up with countless girls, girls who's names he doesn't even know.... He doesn't even really know you.

"Harry, I... We can't do this." I shake my head and close my eyes so I don't have to look at him.

He leans forward and kisses my forehead this time, making my heart pound even harder against my chest with the anticipation. His lips feel perfect against my skin, but I can't do this. We can't do this. And not for the reason I was originally worried about. I couldn't care less that we are practically siblings at this point. After that last kiss-I know I need to put a stop to this now that I've acknowledged the feelings he's giving me. I'm afraid. I don't want to get hurt again, and I don't want to ruin what we have.

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