Contrite ✓

Chapter 8.

After our argument, we didn't talk much. Even though I didn't wish for it, I was a bit angry with Adam. He acted like a complete douche and because of that I would never be able to be friends with Harry. Not with Adam knowing at least. Maybe I could take it slow, talk to Harry on neutral grounds and if Adam heard something about it, I could just tell him we happened run in to each other.

But that would mean lying. To my boyfriend, who I loved. The thought had my stomach in knots. What kind of situation had I managed to get myself into? Worse than the sappiest soap opera.

With a sigh, I stretched my arms over my head and yawned. Yet another day, but I had nothing planned. No work and Adam had left early. I had decided to sleep in, so when I glanced at my phone and saw it was close to noon I didn't even react.

Getting up and pulling one of Adam's shirts over my head, I strolled into the kitchen to make breakfast. I turned on some music and wiggled my hips while singing along loudly.

My phone buzzed where it lay on the counter, momentarily stopping my favourite song.

Unknown: Hi gorgeous.

Frowning, I put it back down and ignored the message. Probably someone who got the wrong number. Continuing with the scrambled eggs, I let out a frustrated sound when the buzzing came again.

Unknown: Sorry, don't know why I wrote that.

Unknown: It's Harry, by the way.

Unknown: You ok?

Well, damn. That wasn't something I'd expected. How did he even have my number?

Me: Do you always put each sentence in separate messages? Kinda annoying. What's wrong with a longer one? And yes, I'm ok. How'd you get my number?

Harry: I have my ways. And no, I actually do know how to use a phone. Oh, and I'm brilliant, thanks for asking.

Laughing to myself, I was about to put the phone down since I really didn't have anything to write back, when it buzzed again.

Harry: Have any plans for the day?

Me: Why?

Harry: Thought I'd show you something. I can pick you up?

I was about to type him no, when I realised my car was parked at home. Saying no because Adam would be mad didn't even cross my mind. Also I got curious about what he wanted to show me.

Me: Fine. I'm at Adam's, he lives on Moreton Dr. Pick me up in 20.

Suddenly in a hurry, I stuffed the eggs into my mouth and burned my throat while gulping down the coffee. Racing to the bedroom to change, I remembered I didn't have a change of clothes and had to wear the same ones from yesterday.

Luckily, I had time to change when I got home from work before Adam picked me up last night, otherwise I'd be stuck with black jeans. Not the best choice in this summer heat England offered at the moment.

I pulled my high-waisted shorts up and the white top over my head, then I quickly brushed my hair and applied a small amount of make up. Stepping into my white Vans, I glanced around the room.

Something sticking up from Adam's bag resting in the corner caught my eye, and before I knew what I was doing, I had snatched it up. It was a piece of paper, with the stamp from the company he worked for on top.

Furrowing my brows, I read and became even more confused when I saw Adam's handwriting. Understanding dawned and I realised it was some sort of a blanket for when you wished to take time off.