Last Place You Look

Chapter 25

"God I've missed you this week."

A chill was sent over my skin every place he touched it, but heat under his touch as well. We'd both been so busy and had spent the last few days away from each other. It's not something we were used to anymore. Being away was hard.

He reached behind me and grabbed my shampoo. He squirt some in his hands and looked at me expectantly.

"Are you gonna stand there or are you gonna turn around?" I did as he said and I felt his fingers massage my scalp. My eyes fluttered closed as he lathered my hair. I let my mind wander as his fingers worked through my head. He was softly humming in my ear, but I didn't recognize what it was.

I thought about meeting him. I still don't know how I hadn't seen his store. I'd found every single on in the city and it was on my walk home. He'd said something that day about it not being the right time. Harry had the extraordinary ability of always being right. He didn't purposely try to be right all the time. He just was.

The night he cooked me dinner came next. He'd put in so much effort to make it special. That was something I had never experienced before and looking at where we were now made it even better. But then I thought about something that I saw. He had a guitar in the corner of his room that night. But I never saw it again.

His humming hadn't stopped but he moved around me and pushed me back under the water. I let my head fall back as he rinsed it, doing his best to keep any shampoo from falling in my eyes.

"Harry, how come I never see your guitar when I'm at your place?" His hands stopped rinsing my hair for a moment before they continued, slower this time.

"How do you know I have a guitar?" He pulled his hands away and I opened my eyes. He looked perplexed.

"I saw it the night you made me dinner. I guess I forgot until now. You haven't mentioned it and I haven't seen it since." I reached for my conditioner and lathered it through my hair as he did the same with the shampoo he bought to leave in my shower. We switched place again so he could rinse his hair.

"It's in the closet." He kept his answer brief. I didn't understand why he was trying to avoid it.

"How long have you played?"

"I learned when I was 16. I thought it would be a good way to pick up girls." He grinned at what I can only assume was a memory.

"When was the last time you played?"

"Last night." He continued to move around the shower. I could see him trying to find something, anything to change the conversation. But my curiosity was getting the best of me.

"Will you play for me sometime?" He was staring at his feet and avoiding all eye contact.

"I dunno, Charlie. Are you done showering?" I nodded and he shut off the water and quickly got out, leaving me to succumb to the cold air that started to leak into the now open shower. His hesitance to do anything more than hum in front of me was starting to make sense. He would always stop whenever I mentioned him humming, like he was ashamed of it or something.

I got out and grabbed my towel from the rack. I saw his back disappear into my room as I was getting out. He was digging around his drawer when I walked in. I leaned against the doorway and watched him as he pulled on boxers and joggers. He faced away from me, but I saw him turn his head enough to see that I was standing there.

"What?" He picked his towel up off the floor. His hair was still dripping.

"Do you have stage fright?" He walked past me to hang it back on the rack.