By the time it was around ten-thirty, Billy and Donna showed up finally. Donna was absolutely wasted out of her mind, Billy apologizing for being so late as if it was a big deal. I knew that they were going to be out for a while, and even though it was longer than I had anticipated, I also wasn't bothered by it. I was glad that Harry was coming to get me now, knowing that I wouldn't want to bother asking Billy to take me home, especially if Donna was in such a drunken state. I also knew that I would have been a little irritated if it was anyone else, but when Donna saw me she was so excited, her arms wrapping around me in a tight hug.
"Oh, Maggie! It was a wonderful night. Billy and I were fucking in the car, sorry it took so long to get home."
"She's a peach," Billy chuckled. "Also, I swear we fucked before she got wasted. She has her time mixed up."
"We did!" Donna nodded. "Oh, are you going to stay?"
"A little longer," I laughed. "Harry said he was going to come get me."
"Your very handsome man?" she giggled.
Rolling my eyes, I reminded her that he was not my man in the slightest. It made her shake her head, Donna turning to Billy to tell him that I was the one lying even though that was not the case at all. Either way, Billy was laughing, but I told both of them that I needed to call Harry to come get me. She sat on the sofa, Billy in the kitchen getting his wife water while I called the curly-haired personality. He answered almost right away, my cheeks flushing again at the thought of him awaiting my call.
"Hi," I greeted.
"You want me to come get you, doll?"
"Yeah. Donna's wasted so if she says anything to you when you get here I'm sorry."
He chuckled. "Nothing that I probably haven't heard from you."
"Rude."
"Honest," he laughed. "I'll be there in twenty, yeah?"
"Okay."
We hung up, leaving me to sit in the living room on the sofa beside Donna. She wanted me to know every detail of her evening. It started with them going to a park, Billy telling Donna that I did not need every single detail, but Donna very much went into detail about what they did in the car. It made my cheeks pink, my eyes wide at the thought of her with him in the way she was describing. Billy looked a little embarrassed, but he was also smiling down at Donna as she spoke and I thought it was cute that they were so in love with each other.
"Okay, so aside from the car, what did you guys do?" I asked.
"I didn't even talk about the part where he—"
"We went to a nice restaurant," Billy chuckled, cutting her off. "But she wanted to get wasted so after dinner I took her to a bar across town."
"True," I nodded. "And she got wasted like she wanted to so I'm sure that she's super happy about that."
Billy told a couple of stories now, Donna interjecting here and there with the story details that he might have missed. I was shocked, honestly, but laughed at everything that they had to say. It really was funny, and the idea that she had gotten so wasted on only a couple of drinks was incredibly amusing to me. We continued to speak all the way up until there was a knock on the door. I was hoping to be the one to answer, but it was Donna who yanked the door open, a grin on her face.
"Maggie's boyfriend!" she cheered.
Harry blinked several times, staring down at Donna. I was almost certain he even looked a little concerned until I was standing behind her, his eyes softening. I told him to come in, Harry taking a step into the home and shutting the door behind him.
"What happened to your face?" Donna asked him.
"She didn't tell you?" Harry questioned, glancing at me. "I got into a fight over her."
My eyes widened almost immediately with the way that he had described the event that had taken place on Saturday. Of course, I should have told Donna about it prior to now, but it had slipped my mind simply in the way that I had been pretty tied up with work. Plus, when I got home, I usually ate dinner and then went to bed. There hadn't been a whole lot of socializing getting done, and so it made sense that she hadn't been told yet.
"Don't say it like that," I complained as I grabbed my stuff. "He just was saving me from a gross guy. What he normally is there to do, crazily enough."
"He got into a fight and you didn't tell me?" Donna whined.
"I was dealing with a lot of it and processing it. I figured I would talk about it when you got back here but you're drunk," I laughed. "I'll call you about it tomorrow."
"Tomorrow," she grinned.
Harry watched as I put my shoes on, but I could hear him talking to Billy, the two shaking hands when I looked at them. It was sweet to see him chatting with my friend's husband, Harry appearing engrossed in whatever it was that they were talking about. However, I brushed the two of them off, grabbing my book and holding onto it tightly when I saw a very sleepy Jules coming from the hallway rubbing her eyes. It was clear she was incredibly tired, the little girl even yawning before she took in the four of us. Though, almost immediately she was running toward Harry, his eyes wide before he crouched down to scoop her up.
"Hi, pretty girl," he greeted softly.
"Wow, you want to talk to the strange man in your house and not Daddy?" Billy said to her.
"I love you Daddy, but I don't get to—" Jules yawned "—see Harry a lot."
Harry chuckled with her words, Jules immediately wrapping her arms around him tightly and resting her head on his shoulder. I could tell that he was tense, his muscles tugging behind the fabric of his shirt, but he didn't give anything else away. I walked over to the two of them, my fingers brushing her hair gently as Harry looked at me with pleading eyes.
"Jules, honey, let me or daddy or mommy take you," I said quietly.
"No, I want Harry," she whined.
"Okay, okay," Harry murmured, but I could tell he was really struggling now. "We have to go to bed right now though because I have to get Auntie Maggie home."
"Okay, Uncle Harry."
His cheeks tinged pink with her words, Jules pulling back some to play with his hair. Billy and Donna glanced at each other before they glanced at me, leaving my face to flush as well. I told them I was going to see how everything was going even though Harry had just started walking down the hall moments before. And, soon enough I was standing in the doorway of Jules' room, the little girl not letting go of Harry.
"Please, pretty girl, I need you to let go."
"No, no, no," she whined softly. "Don't leave until I sleep. What if the monsters get me?"
"I'll sit right here, just let go. Please, Jules."
He was pleading with her, his tone almost a whisper and I could tell that he was getting upset. It took more coaxing than I knew Harry would have liked but she finally let go, Harry breathing quickly and sitting beside her bed. Jules seemed confused as she looked at Harry who had pulled his legs to his chest as he sat on the floor. He was hiding his face, and before she could even think about touching him, I was moving to sit on the bed with her, the sleepy little girl rubbing her eyes before she crawled over to me.
"Is he okay?" she asked me.
"He has a lot going on right now," I told her, letting the small girl crawl in my lap as I set my bag and book on the floor. "He came to get me and take me home."
"You live with Uncle Harry like mommy and daddy live in their room with each other?"
It made me laugh. "Not exactly. He lives in his own big home and I live in mine. Harry and I are friends."
"Oh!" she giggled, resting her head against my chest. "Nice, Auntie Maggie. I'm sleepy."
"I know," I told her sweetly, resting her on the bed before wrapping her in her blanket. "And you got to see Uncle Harry, what an exciting night!"
She nodded. "Yes!"
"Goodnight, Jules," I said softly.
"Goodnight again, Maggie! Goodnight, Uncle Harry!"
He looked up from his lap. I could tell he was still incredibly stressed, but he smiled at her as best as he could. It was blatantly clear that he was upset, but he was trying to hide it for the sake of Jules. After a few moments, he reached over and brushed her hair back, Harry clearing his throat.
"Sweet dreams, pretty girl," Harry said to her softly.
"Feel better," Jules told him.
He nodded, telling her to go to sleep. She shut her eyes and cuddled with one of her many stuffed animals. I just sat on the bed with her while she fell asleep, Harry hiding his face in his lap once again. It was probably ten minutes before she was definitely asleep, leaving me to stand up and collect my things from the floor. Though, I managed to drop my book, my eyes wide when it made a thud loud enough for me to quickly glance at Jules. She was still fast asleep, thankfully, but Harry was grabbing the book, standing up so that he was in front of me. He handed the book back to me, making sure that our hands didn't touch in the slightest.
"Are you okay?"
"Better," he nodded.
"I'm sorry," I told him.
"She's a kid, she wouldn't get it," Harry stated. "Plus, she adores me, I don't want to say no to a hug and then it hurts her feelings."
He was sweet thinking of Jules' feelings before his own came into account. I did feel bad that he had been stressed out, though, Harry and I glancing at Jules one more time before we left her room. Donna was sitting on the couch in her pajamas while Billy was sitting next to her.
"I can't believe she picked you over me," Billy said to Harry.
"I wouldn't take it personally," Harry laughed. "She doesn't see me as often."
"Okay, good point," Billy nodded.
"Anyway, I'm going to get Maggie home," Harry told my friends kindly. "She gets cranky if she doesn't sleep enough."
"Oh, I'm sure you'll do plenty of sleeping," Donna giggled.
"Donna, oh my goodness," I complained. "He isn't like that with me at all. We're friends."
"Yeah, sure. Billy and I were friends at the start, too," she giggled.
"Ugh," I sighed. "Harry, let's go."
Billy laughed, Harry waving at Billy and Donna before we left their house. It wasn't long until he was opening the passenger door for me, Harry watching closely as I got in. Once I was situated and everything was in the vehicle, he quickly shut the door, heading to his side. He was quiet for a while as he sat in the seat, and I wondered what he was thinking about. I always wanted to know what was going on in that man's mind for some reason. But, I knew it was because recently he had been so quiet and I knew he was one of the most interesting people that I had ever met.
"Did you have fun with the kids?" he asked as we started driving.
"Yeah, they're so funny."
"Good. I'm glad."
"What did you do?" I asked.
"Just worked out some. Oh, I went to give Izabelle her food though, and she scratched my face. Look," he said, turning so I could see the left side of his face. "I mean, it just looks like whatever happened Saturday is part of the scratches, or vice versa, but still."
I reached up to touch his face, but quickly stopped myself when he flinched, quickly pulling my hand back. Frowning some, I could tell he was trying to not focus on the stress I had probably just caused him, Harry's knuckles becoming white as he held the steering wheel tightly. We were both quiet for a few moments, Harry clearing his throat.
"Can you believe I've been wearing that wrap on my wrist and it still hurts?" Harry complained.
"He was punching you a lot," I stated. "Also, I noticed that you were bleeding and didn't freak out the other night. I thought that was weird."
He shrugged. "I mean, I was pretty distraught about the whole breakup that I didn't even pay attention, I guess. Sorry if it confused you."
I nodded. It was a weird answer. Honestly, there were things that I disliked or hated that I didn't just stop hating because of a numbness deep inside of me. Then again, I wasn't him. But, his answer almost didn't even make sense. The last two times he had seen blood he wasn't overly freaked out the way that I was used to him being. Deciding it wasn't that big of a deal, I brushed it off, Harry and I getting out of the car together. He laughed when I rushed up to the door to unlock it, but I was fumbling with my keys and ended up dropping them.
"Why are you always so nervous?" he chuckled. "It's like you're trying to run away from me."
"You make me nervous," I said, my eyes widening as a smirk grew on his face. "I mean, just that—"
"You have nothing to be nervous about with me, doll," he assured.
He had crouched down to grab my keys, my back up against the door as he looked up at me, glancing over me twice the way that he always did. His eyes were bright, his hair shining in the moonlight. Even with the bruises on his face he was pretty. Though I watched as he stood up from his crouched position. I was a little bit confused, not sure how I felt about the man standing in front of me at this very moment. His eyes continued to gaze over me, but I couldn't stop focusing on his face where his cat had scratched him.
"Izabelle really got you, huh?" I asked, realizing that the scratches on his face weren't just dainty little marks. "Do you think it's going to scar?"
"Oh, she's done it once or twice already. Feisty little one, you know? Nothing I haven't dealt with before."
He was still standing in front of me, the summer air cooler than I was used to. I was nervous, of course, my eyes dropping to his hand that was holding my keys. He seemed to notice, my cheeks flushing when he waited for me to hold out one of my hands so he could drop the keys into them. Once he did, I turned around, knowing he wasn't far behind me as I unlocked the door. My hands were shaking, but it wasn't long before I was stepping inside my house, Harry continuing to stand on the porch.
"Well," he started, green eyes glancing over me twice yet again. "Are you going to invite me in, or was this merely transactional?"
He had a way with words unlike anyone I had ever met. Most guys would just ask if I was going to invite them in. Or, that is what I figured since I never had anyone else over. Yet, here he was, questioning if I simply wanted him to pick me up and take me home or if he was going to be allowed to stay with me longer. Swallowing hard, I avoided his eyes for a moment before I shifted aside.
"Would you like to come in?" I asked.
It was followed by a nod, Harry stepping into my home before I shut the door behind him. I didn't know what he was going to do, but the moment he started toward the dining room, I knew he wanted a drink. Following behind him, I watched as he stood in front of the liquor cabinet, my eyes fixed on him.
"Do you care if I drink?" he asked.
"No, that's okay with me."
"Lovely."
He opened the cabinet, pulling out the usual Jim Bean before the two of us headed to the kitchen. I watched as he grabbed a glass from the cupboard, the man filling it with a few ice cubes before he poured the liquor over them. Harry sipped the drink a few times, setting his glass down and shutting the lid before he picked up his glass. I made my way into the living room, Harry trailing behind me before we both had a seat on the sofa. I was on one end while he sat on the other, Harry placing his drink on the side table before glancing at me.
"Can I ask an intimate question?" he questioned suddenly, my face instantly tinging pink.
Of course, my mind did what it did best. The moment the question left his lips, I was sent pondering over every single possible inquiry that he could ask. I didn't know where to start or where to stop. The possible options for what he wanted to ask me were endless, and I was almost terrified as to what he was going to say to me if I agreed. But, of course I wanted to know what he had to ask. I think if I said no to him I would be left questioning what he wanted to know for far longer than getting it right on over with.
"Doll?" he tried.
"Uh, yeah," I nodded.
He sipped his drink, shifting so that his body was facing me more now. I knew that it was getting serious if he was adjusting how he was sitting with me. It was obvious he was trying to think of how to phrase the question that he wanted to ask me, though, it wasn't much longer until he sipped his drink once more, placing it down on the coffee table this time.
"Why did you choose celibacy?" he finally questioned.
It wasn't what I thought he would ask. Countless thoughts, and not one had been about this. I thought about his words, wondering how long he had thought about me being celibate and how long he wanted or waited to ask this. It wasn't really a weird question to me, though I was certainly surprised by his words to me. It was just a bit jarring.
"Oh," I started, glancing down at my hands before looking back at him. "Um, well, I made the decision when I was young. By young, I mean I was about fifteen. I guess I didn't want to feel pressured to, you know, put out."
I watched as he seemed to ponder the thought, Harry and I simply staring at one another before I quickly glanced away and looked anywhere but his face. The fact that I had been so honest with him just now was kind of frightening to me. Then again, I was pretty sure no one had ever really asked me why I had chosen to save myself until marriage. No one had really cared to ask, though, either.
"Is that why you got engaged so young?" he continued.
"Maybe. I don't know, probably. He always tried to encourage me just to give in and break it."
Harry nodded, but I could tell by the way his jaw clenched he was not pleased in the slightest. I wondered what made him upset most about it? It wasn't like I had given in, but maybe the thought that someone was so interested in what they wanted personally, that they were willing to try to convince me to differ from my own thoughts was not something that he wanted to hear.
"Do you, um..." he cleared his throat. "Do you still want to save yourself?"
He normally looked at me when he asked anything. For the most part, I would be the one turning away from him when he spoke to me. And yet, he couldn't even look me in the eyes when he asked. I didn't know what would make him feel that way—what would cause him to feel like he couldn't keep eye contact as he asked. Yet, there was almost a vulnerability to him now. It was as if he knew it was a very intimate question, and he may have been afraid as to what my reaction to his question would have been.
"I was fifteen," I started. "That was a very different time in my life and I am a very different person now. I feel like a lot of me, I don't know, died when the engagement ended. I lost a lot when we broke up, and this is the one thing still intact, I guess."
It was the best answer I could give to him and myself. I didn't know what I wanted. Having sex with some stranger was not how I wanted to lose it, but I also didn't even know how I wanted to lose it either. After all, I thought Timothy would be my one and only person ever for everything. Of course, that was clearly not the case, but it left me in a state of pure confusion and loss even now months later.
"Did you guys ever do anything?" Harry continued. "I know you do things now, I've seen you in action—"
"Stop!" I yelled, glaring at him.
He chuckled. "Sorry, I had to say it. But when you two were together did you gain any experience?"
And again, it was another intimate question. He was asking them a lot this evening, and while he had prefaced them, they were still coming as a shock to me. Normally I would have told any other man to back off, leave me alone, stop asking me personal things. Yet with Harry, I didn't feel like he was pressuring me into any of my answers. He just genuinely wanted to know, and listen, and understand what had happened. I felt like it had been a very long time since anyone did that.
"If you're asking if we got handsy, the answer is yes."
"So sex is the only thing you haven't experienced?" he asked me.
"Uh, I think so."
"Why are you being so honest?"
"I don't know."
"Doll," he murmured, my eyes meeting his. "Be honest."
"Do you think I'm not telling the truth?" I asked.
He glanced at me, tilting his head slightly. I watched as his attention went to his drink, my eyes shifting down to where it rested on his thigh. He was tracing the rim of the glass with his middle finger, my eyes widening slightly when I had a very terrible thought cross my mind. Harry chuckled, my eyes flicking up to his.
"What?"
"Do you think I don't notice your little movements? Your eyes, your breathing. The way you press your thighs closer together, even if it's subconsciously. I know your body, doll."
"Harry, it's late," I stated, getting up from the sofa. "We both have work in the morning."
"Right, right, of course," he nodded, finishing off his drink before standing up as well. "Do you care if I call this sofa my bed for the evening?"
I didn't mind. Honestly, I was surprised he was willing to sleep on the sofa since we shared a bed the last time, but I didn't want to be the one that questioned him in any form this evening. The two of us walked to my room, Harry taking two pillows from me easily. I told him I was going to change, leaving me to grab a large T-shirt before I headed to the bathroom. Switching into my pajamas, I pulled my hair back to wash my face, a knock on the door following.
"Yeah?" I asked.
Harry had opened the door just a smidge, but then was in the bathroom with me. It was the first time I had seen him wear only boxers, my eyes following every curve, every line, every tattoo that inked his skin. He had so many more than I had thought. The ferns on his hips, a big moth on his stomach, two swallows that traced along the underside of his collarbones. I was in absolute shock, my eyes even glancing down toward his thigh where a roaring tiger made an appearance. I knew he had more tattoos, but this was almost an insane amount.
"Do you have any Tylenol?" he finally asked. "I have a killer headache."
Yanking my attention away from his body, I was quick to search my bathroom drawers. Everything was still sort of thrown into random spots, but I found what I was looking for soon enough. Handing him the bottle, I started to make my way toward the kitchen. Harry followed behind me, my fingers quickly opening the cupboard. Grabbing a glass, I filled it with ice before filling the glass with water as well. Harry thanked me, taking two pills and swallowing them with water. He put the cap back on the pill bottle, my eyes lingering on his body once again.
"You're staring," he stated.
"Whatever."
"I'm not bothered by it, doll, just amused."
"Well, you know," I started, gesturing to his torso. "There's a whole lot going on. I think it is pretty hard not to stare."
He chuckled. We were both quiet for a few moments, Harry continuing to drink his water as I forced myself to look down at my hands. I didn't feel uncomfortable around him in the slightest, but sometimes he left me speechless. Not because he took my breath away necessarily, but simply because he always had a comeback and I only had one occasionally.
"You know, I'd be happy to let you explore them sometime."
I glared at him. "You're gross."
Once more, he was laughing at my words. Swallowing hard, I grabbed the medication off the counter. Just as I went to head back to my bedroom, Harry's hand wrapped around my wrist. I stood there for a moment, not saying a single word. I knew I had grown tense with the touch, knowing that he hated physical contact—especially after the way that he had acted with Jules—and yet he had gone out of his way to get ahold of me somehow. Looking back at him, I was confused, my eyes widening slightly when he started pulling me toward him and then wrapped his arms around me.
We were quiet, my brain moving a million miles a minute. He was so much taller than me, but he hid his face in the crook of my neck, my arms slowly wrapping around his tense frame. My forearms were pressed against his skin, Harry somehow managing to get his arms up under my shirt in a way that his arms were pressing to my lower back. The hug was weird to me, but the main reason had to be because I was so focused on the skin to skin contact with him. I felt like it was far more intimate than any other hug we had shared, one of my hands shifting up to the back of his head.
He didn't say anything. He let me hold onto him, and I could tell he was trying to find comfort in me. It was like it hurt him to do this, but he was holding on for as long as he could. I played with the delicate curls at the nape of his neck, Harry's arms holding me tighter in the embrace. I didn't want to let go of him. I wanted him to feel safe in my arms for as long as he could. It was almost nice to know that he wanted this, and I smiled when I felt him kiss my skin lightly, his body continuing to become tense until he sighed against me, pulling away so fast that it left me feeling breathless.
"Now that we're done with the stressful physical contact part of the evening, let me walk you to bed, doll."
I wasn't disappointed when he didn't try to hold onto a piece of me now, realizing that the hug was probably the most physical touch I would get out of him for a while. Soon, we got to my bedroom. Harry flicked the light on, watching as I went into the bathroom. I was quick to put the medicine bottle away before glancing at my face in the mirror. My skin was flushed, and I knew it was because of him. He always made me so nervous, but I simply brushed it off, nervously smiling when I walked back into my room to see he had turned down my bed.
"Do you have blankets?" I asked quickly.
"I know where they are," he assured.
"Okay, but what about pillows?"
"We did that already."
"Right. Is there anything else I can get you?"
"Mags," he smiled, sitting down on the mattress and patting the spot next to him. "C'mere."
I sighed, walking over to the bed. Getting onto the mattress, I sat beside him, Harry chuckling when I looked like I was very distressed. He told me to lay down, and I followed his directions, watching as he stood up and tucked me in. I was nervous that he was going to leave, but he didn't, Harry quickly sitting on the bed beside me.
"Why are you being so nice?" I asked.
"I've been having a rough couple of days and I wasn't being very friendly."
"True," I nodded.
"I'm just trying to make up for it."
"You didn't have to hug me."
"Trust me, I know, doll," he assured. "I wasn't doing it for you."
He wanted to hug me? He was always so unhappy when it came to physical touch, and yet he wanted to be the one that wrapped his arms around me? I stared up at him, both confused and surprised. Harry was glancing elsewhere, and I wanted to know what he was thinking. I was used to him being a super flirty, cool, and collected guy. This version of him? This soft-spoken, quiet, not-so-certain man? I didn't know who he was.
"You can stay with me if you want," I said quietly.
"I've had enough contact tonight, but I really appreciate that," he nodded, his fingers brushing through my hair. "You get some rest, okay?"
"Okay."
He played with my hair, not moving from my side. I didn't know how he could say that he had enough contact with me for the evening, but was willing to play with my hair. It almost didn't even make sense to me, but I decided that it was something that he normally did before I went to bed and he didn't want to change up the routine we had clearly fallen into with one another. I just continued to wonder if I would ever truly understand the tattooed man beside me, or if he would continue to stay a mystery.