Thankfully the sun has completely set by the time the SUV arrives back at my Tribeca apartment, leaving the street dark and seemingly empty. I say seemingly because honestly, paparazzi are getting too crafty. I mean how is it possible to take such a clear image from a mile away? I don't know, but they do it. They're vultures and I can never be too careful. I step out onto the street bundled in a peacoat with a scarf wrapped around my neck and cross my arms around my stomach as I make my way towards the entrance of my building. Mike follows behind me but stops in the lobby, offering me a goodnight. My security keeps 24/7 watch in the lobby at all times, switching shifts every few hours which I'm thankful for. It offers me alone time and a chance at a little bit of normalcy while in my own home. I turn for the elevator and see a man standing in a dark coat with joggers and curly hair peeking from an otherwise hooded head.
Harry.
"No one saw me, no worries," he says quietly, already knowing what I'm going to say. Some see my concerns as paranoia, I know Harry does. When you live life in such a public manner people have a way of finding out everything, the good and bad. Harry is bad. If news got out that we were doing... whatever this is... it wouldn't be good. Casual sex has no place in my public image. I'm supposed to be the girl you bring home to mom and dad, not to bed.
"Erm, ready?" Harry asks, sounding a bit confused. He breaks me from my thoughts and snaps me back to reality.
"Uhm, yea. Yea, sorry. Let's go," I say quietly, leading him into the elevator.
We enter my once-darkened apartment and I flicker the lights on as we set our things down and remove our jackets.
"You moved things around, yeah?" Harry asks, noting the change to the living room layout.
"Uh, yea. New couch," I say awkwardly. I'm not one for forced niceties, which is all this is. It's small talk until he can get me to bed. Hook-up culture can naturally be a bit impersonal and surface-level, both things that I'd usually avoid.
"Want a drink?" I ask Harry as I pad over to the bar cart in the dining room. It's sitting just outside of the liquor closet.
"Erm, sure. Whiskey neat please," he responds, following me slowly into the dining room as he looks around the penthouse. I oblige while making myself an old-fashioned, my go-to drink. I don't know why I'm so nervous to be with Harry tonight, it's not like we haven't done this a million other times. I try to distract myself from my own thoughts as I hand Harry his drink and take a big gulp of my own.
"I can't stop thinking about you," Harry admits as he takes another sip of his already half-emptied glass. Our eyes meet for the first time tonight, my skin vibrating from the glass of alcohol I so quickly finished. His green eyes pierce my blue ones and a wave of familiarity rushes over me.
"I've heard that one before," I say in an attempt to deflect his vulnerability.
"Don't act like I didn't care about you... like I don't care about you," he says softly as he takes a step closer to me. His eyes are hypnotizing.
"What about Nichole?" I ask in return, referencing the much older woman he always seemed to enjoy more than me.
"She's not you," he answers effortlessly, closing in on me. He now stands over me, the smell of whiskey radiating off of his breath and onto my lips. Before I know it, I'm crashing my lips into his, wrapping my long arms around his neck to deepen the kiss. Harry grabs my face before letting his hands roam down my body and to my waist, pulling me in closer. Warmth radiates off of his body as he wraps his arms around my waist and I feel his muscles contract around me. I move my hands to his curly hair, running my fingers through it, making Harry breathe heavier. He picks me up and I wrap my legs around his waist, never breaking the kiss. He walks us to the dining room and puts me down on the table. We break the kiss briefly and I look up at him. We stare into each other's eyes for a minute, taking the other in.
"God, what do you do to me?" Harry mumbles as he looks me up and down, and I grab him by the shirt and pull him back in, crashing our lips together. My hand cups the back of his neck and I pull him on top of me, falling back onto the table. Just as Harry goes to lift my shirt off of me, I hear the door open.
"Oh my god, Taylor?"
Harry scrambles off of me and I nervously prop myself up on my elbows to get a clear view of the person at the door.
Karlie. She looks horrified.
"Erm, hello," Harry says with a devilish smile, and Karlie stays silent in shock.
"Uh- yea, hi. Actually- I'm gonna go. Um, have fun," she panics and leaves as fast as she entered, the door closing behind her. Harry stares at me.
"Go," I warn quietly and run for the door. "Karlie, what happened? Stop," I say as I jog lightly towards the model who's waiting for the elevator on the other side of the door.
"No, I'm gonna go. Sorry. I shouldn't have come," she says, seemingly embarrassed. She crosses her arms over her stomach and makes eye contact with only the floor, failing to look up at me.
"Hey, no. You're not leaving. Talk to me. Kar, please," I respond, ducking my head in an attempt to make eye contact with the model. She eventually looks back at me, sadness filling her eyes. It's obvious she had been crying. "Hey, no. No, no. Come here," I whisper and take the model in my arms as sobs start to escape her.
I see Harry walking towards us as I embrace Karlie, and I widen my eyes at him warningly, reminding him to leave. Harry surrenders, putting his hands up, and heads for the staircase down the hall to leave me alone with the model.
"Come inside babe," I say, breaking the hug and taking Karlie's hand as I lead her back into my apartment. I shut the door behind us and bring Karlie to the couch, wrapping a blanket around her.
"Talk to me," I say, sitting criss-cross and facing the model in front of me.
"Josh. Stupid shit. I feel stupid for coming," she says with a sniffle. I give her a look of confusion.
"Why? Don't feel stupid. You have a key for a reason. I care about you much more than Harry, you know that," I answer as I rub her arm.
"He was supposed to be home at 10:30 this morning. I got home, cleaned the house, and made cookies to welcome him back. I had this whole plan of just laying everything on the table and calling a truce. I was excited," Karlie explains as she fiddles with her rings. "He didn't come home till 5 pm. Not a phone call, text, anything. I could smell the alcohol on him. He wouldn't talk to me, said his flight got delayed and he was tired. And then he just... went to bed." I stare at the model, but before I can respond she speaks again. "I thought you weren't seeing Harry anymore? Why was he here? What are you doing?" Karlie asks, sounding hurt. I try to hide my confusion, but wonder why the model seemed to care so much.
"Uhm, yea. We weren't seeing each other anymore. I'm not sure, he texted, and then he was here and then that happened, and then you were here. It just happened. I'm sorry about Josh, Kar, that's awful," I say, offering an explanation while also attempting to acknowledge my friend's feelings.
"It's fine. He's not good for you, you know," Karlie states, finally meeting my eyes with hers again.
"I mean, it's not the best situation ever... I know that. But it's just sex," I say, offering a calm rebuttal.
"You shouldn't be seeing him," she says persistently, but offers no explanation. I stare at the model.
"Why?" I say finally. She sighs and switches her attention to the bookshelves across from us.
"Nevermind. I need to leave," she says finally, standing up and throwing the blanket that wrapped around her back onto me. I toss the blanket aside and follow her.
"What? Karlie, stop. This is ridiculous," I answer as we walk towards the door. Karlie starts putting her jacket back on.
"You're right, Taylor. This is ridiculous. What are you even doing? What are you getting from this? What void are you trying to fill?" She asks, growing angrier and angrier. I stare at the model in disbelief.
"What? Oh, that's good. That's good coming from you," I laugh angrily.
"At least I'm toward a stable, long-term relationship. Harry doesn't know what that is, and I'm starting to think you don't either," she responds.
"What? Where is this coming from? Karlie, you come here every day crying about Josh and I listen and I hug you and I support you. And I love being that for you because that's what friends do. But for you to come in here and judge me? And for what? Having sex? I'm sorry you aren't getting any but that's not my fault," I respond, regretting the words as they leave my mouth. Karlie's eyes fill with fire.
"You know, there's a reason he only wants to fuck you, Taylor. You only care about yourself. You're only redeeming quality is the publicity that he'll get by being with you but I think he quickly realized you're not worth the trouble," Karlie states angrily. My face burns and my eyes swell with tears, not believing the words that came from my best friend's mouth all too easily.
"You know what, leave Karlie. Go figure your shit out somewhere else. I'm not going to be your punching bag tonight," I say, trying to contain my tears, opening the door and gesturing for the model to exit the penthouse.
"Will do," she mumbles and disappears down the hall.