Tash is wrapping the chain around a pole and closing the little padlock when she feels her phone vibrating in her pocket. She tugs on her white bicycle a little to make sure it's secure before pulling out her phone and seeing Harry's name flashing across the screen.
He promised to call her last night and for Tash, keeping these tiny pledges, builds her trust in someone slowly but surely.
"Hey!" Her bright voice reverberates in his ear and sends a wave of tingles down his body.
"Hey, what are you up to today?" He asks, trying overly hard to sound casual despite the fact he is pacing up and down the length of the bar.
"Just met with a new client, went really well! My biggest one yet, super excited about it! Just got off my bike about to head home. What about you?" She takes a breath at the end and cringes at herself, where Harry withholds information when he is nervous she does the complete opposite, talking to fill silences that she fears might happen before they even occur.
"Taking over the world next?" He grins, being a bartender has helped him in the art of conversation but it's usually one way. He is an expert in asking the right questions to drag out a chat and make the customer sit and drink longer but the moment he is asked a question in return he either avoids it or answers with something vague and incredibly impersonal.
"Something like that! What are you up to?" She asks again, dodging questions makes her feel uneasy and reminds her of people like Dylan who she naively just assumed didn't like talking about themselves when in fact there was always a horrible hidden agenda.
"Just at the bar, not working tonight and was hoping maybe I could cook you dinner?" He pinches his bottom lip between his finger and thumb, rolling his eyes at himself for being so bad at this.
"You cook?" she teases and his shoulders relax as a grin takes over his face.
"I wish I could say I'm amazing, but I can cook a total of two things, one of them being appropriate for dinner," he admits and she finds it adorable.
"Well, then we should definitely have the other one!" she giggles as he breathes out a laugh.
"You want pancakes for dinner?" he checks, finding her playfulness so refreshing he could soak in it all day.
"Yes! 100%!" She cackles and he is obliging right away.
"Pancakes it is then. See you at the bar at 8, I live upstairs." He explains quickly and she is agreeing before hanging up and running upstairs to work out what to wear.
-
Harry is waiting outside Tribute when Tash arrives on her bike, the little wicker basket holding her handbag and a bottle of wine and he pretends not to watch as she swings her legs over the side, her tight high waisted black jeans hugging her hips and arse and a sliver of skin showing from her grey cropped t-shirt as she walks it to the nearest bike rack to tie it up.
"I realised half way here that bringing wine to a guy who owns a bar is pretty stupid," she reveals as she approaches him, her sweet smile slighting up her face and causing Harry's heart to skip a beat.
"It's perfect," he reassures her, tucking the bottle under his arm without even looking at the label and kissing her cheek. "Sweet ride," he teases, gesturing to her white bike and she hits his arm playfully.
"My noble steed! I can't drive so that thing gets me everywhere," she explains as she follows him inside the bar.
"Can't drive? Just never learnt?" he probes and she shakes her head in response, "Nope, dunno why, just don't feel the need." She says confidently before she watches Harry politely greet a handful of regular patrons as they make their way to the staircase at the back of the room.
They both halt abruptly as a tall blonde girl intercepts Harry, wrapping her arms around his waist and not even glancing in Tash's direction.
"Hey you, was hoping you'd be here, are you free tonight?" she asks in hushed voice, her top cut so low it leaves very little to the imagination.
"Heyyyyy, um no sorry, but feel free to hang out, have a drink on the house," Harry says loudly enough for his bartender to hear and try and steal her attention as he unwraps her arms and leaves her pouting.
Harry immediately grabs hold of Tash's hand, partly to prove a point and partly to make sure she doesn't run away. He pulls her quickly into the stairwell, the door closing and blocking out the noise of the bar beside them.
"Sorry, she's a customer, I-" he starts, his heart thumping in his chest.
"Harry, it's fine," Tash interrupts him with a light laugh, "you don't owe me an explanation."
He's watching the smile on her face, listening to the bright carefree words coming out of her naturally full lips but he can see the tiny, almost completely hidden, flash of apprehension in her eyes.
"You wanted honesty and I'm happy to tell you as much or as little as you want about... stuff like that," he can barely believe he is saying it as the words leave his mouth and he's gesturing towards the door.
She's shaking her head and exhaling another laugh as she tries to brush off her insecurity, she finds that trait so unattractive in other people and she doesn't want to ever come across like that.
"Thank you, you know... for being open, but I don't need you to tell me anything you don't want to share," she says gently, genuinely appreciative of his willingness to be honest.
He tucks her hair behind her ear, something she finds impossibly sensitive and endearing and watches as he licks his lips, unable to draw her eyes off his mouth until his tongue is well and truly back in.
"C'mon then, we have pancakes to eat and wine to drink!" He smirks, knowing exactly what she's distracted by, holding up the bottle and taking her hand again, both of them completely absorbed in the feeling of their skin touching.
-
Tash was right in assuming her bottle of wine would be a little redundant amongst Harry's impressive collection of vintage wines and spirits all finding a home on his antique cabinet.
She never would have imagined that his huge loft would be hidden so perfectly above his workplace. The exposed brick feature walls of his bar below run all the way up to Harry's home, huge industrial sized bay windows opening the space up to the city. His style is masculine but eclectic, the steel kitchen counters and old factory style pendant lighting contrasting with his antique bar and serving cabinet and the abundance of indoor plants which Tash loves the most.
Her eyes are closed as they both stand opposite one another in his kitchen, they had finished their pancakes that Tash thought were delicious and told him so several times before he finally started to believe her, offering twice to order a pizza instead.
"Ok, now raise the glass up and tell me what you can smell," Harry instructs softly, his raspy voice sounding like the maple syrup they had just poured all over their dinner. Her breath is a little shaky as she obeys his orders and keeps her eyes shut, feeling a little awkward as he regards every inch of her serene face without her seeing.
She takes in a deep inhale into the half filled glass of Pinot Noir he had poured her and her brow creases in confusion.
"Umm.. wine?" She says innocently, opening her eyes to see him rolling his lips into his mouth to stifle a smile.
His grin breaks free as he takes a step towards her, their bodies unnecessarily close when he gently takes the glass from her hand, his fingers lingering a fraction too long over hers before pulling the glass away and swirling the burgundy liquid around three times.
He puts his nose to the glass briefly before holding it back out to Tash, her eyes locked on his as she leans forward and tries again.
He licks his lips and she loses all train of thought, her heart racing at the proximity of his perfect mouth. She wants to reach out and touch his hair curling around his ears, his strong jaw, his ridiculously sexy neck.
His pulse is racing just as quickly, trying desperately to keep his hand steady in front of her and calm his frantic mind.
"Umm, I really can't smell anything, Harry. I'm sorry," she admits, flashing her teeth apologetically and he thinks she's adorable. Most people, pretend to be wine connoisseurs, bullshitting to him about different notes or aromas, talking a big game of rubbish that makes him want to roll his eyes. But not her. She knows herself and isn't afraid to say when she doesn't know something, there are no false pretences with Tash, just truth.
"Take a sip," he whispers, not sure if he can handle watching her lips press against the glass and stain with the dark red liquor.
She takes the stem of the glass and pushes the wine on to her tongue, looking on as Harry's chest rises up and down a little faster and hers matches his when she sees the intensity in his eyes.
"Umm," she breathlessly utters as she tries to gather her thoughts, her eyes falling to his parted lips, the wine completely not registering in her brain as she concedes that the only thing she wants to taste is him.
Tash holds her breath as he steps closer again, her back pushing up against the counter top and his hips almost touching hers.
Harry takes the wine from her hand and drinks in a brief sip before placing it securely onto the stainless steel beside them.
"Blackberry," he murmurs, before licking his lips again and noting Tash's immediate physical reaction. "Notes of chocolate," he leans in a little closer, his hands finding a place on her hips as he hovers his mouth over hers, "Classic spice and oak." His voice is so quiet she can barely hear it over the fire raging under her skin and the thumping of her heart. She can feel his trembling breath on her skin as his eyes bore into hers and their noses bump together. She wants him, desperately, but she's frozen with the fear of what that actually means.
Harry swallows harshly before his eyes flick to her mouth. His breathing is so frantic it would be embarrassing but he's too overwhelmed to care.
And... Just a hint of strawberry," he exhales and pushes his lips cautiously into hers.
His body ignites as if it has lay dormant for the last seven years and he breaks away only enough to be able to kiss her lips again with more purpose as if he doesn't quite believe what's happening.
The taste of her lips, the touch of her skin, the memories of her of strawberry chapstick flood his mind and topple out of his lips.
"Oh God, Nat," he breathes into her mouth and she pulls away instantly, her chest rising and falling at a rapid pace.
"No one calls me that anymore, Harry," she says so quietly it sounds like a passing breeze, the fear in her eyes so obvious it makes Harry feel physically sick.
He doesn't give a fuck what he has to call her, he can't lose her again. He has spent seven years thinking about nothing but her and now by some miracle she's in his life again.
"Please," he chokes, not really sure what he is asking for.
"Jesus, Harry, we need to talk about this," Tasha exhales, too scared to speak any louder in case she wakes up from this dream.
Harry face is pained as he nods and whimpers. He kisses her softly again, trying to memorise the agonising feeling he's craved for seven years knowing it could be the last time and she lets him despite her better judgement.
A/N:
"I have loved you since we were 18"
You guys are toooooo good!!! So many guessed Tash and Nat were the same person!! I bloody loved it!
So, now that the cat's out of the bag, bring on the drama!! Or he love at least right???
Also not a Haylor shipper but DID have "oh you and me'd be a big conversation" in my head all night!
brace yourself for the next chapter..
Make sure you VOTEEE
Love Ruby,
X