At the end of the evening, my mom ends up offering for Harry to stay the night here, which excites me greatly seeing as I haven't been able to talk to Harry in private all day. I've loved seeing him interact with my parents and the rest of my family, but I really want to ask him about why his mom made him leave in the first place. I know Harry has a temper sometimes, but seriously, what could warrant kicking him out of Thanksgiving?
As we sit watching A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving like we do every year, my dad yawns aggressively and stands from his seat to announce that he will be "hitting the hay." My mother stands from her place on the couch and tells us that she will be joining him. As my dad is leaving the room, he doubles back and points at Harry and I sitting on the floor.
"No funny business, Jerry. I mean it," he says imposingly, eyeing Harry with a very threatening stare.
I laugh as Harry raises his hands in defeat, an amused grin crossing his face, "I wouldn't dare, sir."
I'm glad Harry no longer questions his identity as Jerry Miles; his protests were becoming quite tiresome.
My dad nods in approval and chuckles softly to himself, "Good. I'll see you kids in the morning."
With that, my parents make their way to their bedroom and shut the door behind them, leaving Harry and I alone at last. Sighing heavily, I stretch my legs out and stand from my spot on the floor. After nearly falling over due to the fact that I can't feel my butt anymore after sitting down for so long, I steady myself and stand in front of Harry who is apparently laughing at me.
"What was that?" Harry smiles, referring to my rather clumsy motions.
I shrug and hold my hand out to him to help him up, "I literally can't feel my ass, so standing up was a struggle."
Harry takes my hand as he stands, a smirk rising to those pretty lips of his. Oh no, here comes a butt-related comment.
Staying true to his character, Harry eyes me playfully and crosses his arms over his sculpted chest, "I could feel your ass if you'd like? You know, just to make sure you didn't mess up the nerve endings."
There it is.
"Harry," I scold him, smacking his arm lightly. "My parents are still awake, so let's not do that."
Harry shrugs, and we make our way upstairs. To my surprise, my parents are letting Harry stay in the guest bedroom next to mine. I would have thought that they would have gone for making him sleep in that terribly cold bedroom in our basement simply to prevent any shenanigans, but apparently, I was overthinking it.
After that dreadful frat party incident, I assumed that they would be overprotective when it comes to guys. I guess since Harry is the one who saved me that night, maybe my parents are making an exception for him. Either that, or they just trust me more than I thought they did.
"Do you want me to stay?" I ask Harry from the doorway, watching him as he plops down on the bed. When he stretches his arms above his head, his flannel button-down is pulled up over his hips, exposing those little laurel tattoos that make me involuntarily smile.
Harry looks tiredly over at me, but smiles nonetheless, "Of course."
I sigh and walk over to the bed, stretching out next to Harry and propping myself up on my elbows, "You look exhausted."
"Way to kick me while I'm down," Harry laughs quietly, fixing his eyes on my face. I love when Harry looks at me like this; he has this pleasant intensity in his expression that makes me feel like I am the only one on his mind. I've never had someone look at me like that before, so whenever Harry does it, I get this insane sensation of happiness that I never thought I could have.
"I'm sorry," I frown. "You were amazing today, though. Everyone loved you."
Raising his eyebrow in skepticism, Harry rolls onto his side and props his head up with his elbow, "Your uncle certainly did not."
I laugh, shaking my head, "Okay, but Uncle Willy doesn't even like me, so I wasn't expecting much from him."
"I get why he doesn't like me," Harry says as he furrows his brows in concentration, "But I don't get why he doesn't like you? It's impossible not to like you."
Rolling my eyes at his cheesy compliment, I think back to the unfortunate incident that influenced my uncle's disdain for me, "First of all, you're a liar. I'm very annoying. Second, Uncle Willy was a victim of me eating all the rolls back in '08, and he was fairly drunk, so he freaked when he learned that I was the reason for the lack of rolls at Thanksgiving."
At this, Harry genuinely laughs, his tired demeanor melting away just a little bit, "I was about to ask about that... There is no way that man was sober."
"He rarely is," I sigh, thinking about my poor aunt and how she has to babysit her drunk husband all the time. The whole situation is kind of sad, actually, and it's for her sake that I don't sass my uncle more than I do.
As I fall into thought, a silence fills the space between Harry and I. It's a comfortable silence, but a silence all the same. After about a minute, I remember that I was going to ask Harry about why he left his mom's house this morning. I've been wanting to ask him all day, but now that I'm here alone with him, I feel kind of anxious about bringing it up. It's probably a very personal thing for him, and I really don't want to overstep.
At the same time though, I am his girlfriend so I should feel like I can ask him about this kind of thing without fear that he'll shut down on me. I should feel that way, but I don't. The whole dating thing is new for me, so I guess I'm just not used to having such personal conversations with a guy. I mean, I've had my close guy friends, but it's different when you care about someone like I care about Harry. Our discussions mean more now. Or at least, they do to me, which is why I'm hesitant to bring up the topic of Harry's stepfather. I don't want to put him in a sour mood, but still, Harry crashed my Thanksgiving and I have the right to know why.
Testing my limited stores of confidence, I turn my face to Harry's and see that he is still looking at me intently. When I finally do speak, he seems to come out of his trance to focus on my words.
"Harry, can I ask you something?"
Harry smiles softly and leans his head back on the bed with his arm beneath it, "Yeah, of course. What's up?"
I take a deep breath and force the question out a little to quickly, "Why did you get kicked out of your mom's house?"
My inquiry silently floats between us for several moments as Harry seems to be contemplating what he is going to say. His face looks tired again, and his smile from moments ago has fallen away and been replaced with the beginnings of a frown. Harry presses his lips together and sighs deeply before sitting up on the bed and moving to the edge with his back to me.
At this, I begin to worry that he's not going to answer at all and that he's just going to leave. I know that seems drastic, but it wouldn't be the first time Harry runs out because he doesn't want to talk anymore. Last time he was here, that is exactly what he did after kissing me in the hallway, so I honestly wouldn't be surprised if he did walk away. I'd be disappointed, yes, but not surprised. But Harry and I have come a long way since then, so surely I'm just overthinking everything.
This assumption proves to be correct as Harry slips his shoes off and moves himself to sit facing me with his legs crossed. His expression is tensed and he looks as if he is about to tell me something fairly serious. With the realization that this conversation will not be relaxed, I move myself to sit upright in front of him, probably looking very confused.
"Preston cheated on her," Harry finally says, his brilliantly green eyes filled with pain. His jaw tenses as soon as the words leave his lips, and I can nearly feel the anger radiating off of him.
I must say, this is not at all what I expected. Anne and Preston seemed to be so in love when I saw them not even a week ago. Surely, that can't have changed in such a short span of time. I'm honestly finding it hard to believe, but judging by the aggravated expression on Harry's face, I can see that he is telling the truth.
When I met Anne, the first thing I noticed was just how affectionate she and Harry were towards each other. It was just so sweet to see them together, because even when they weren't saying anything, I could see just how much Harry loves and respects her. Thus, I totally see why he would feel so strongly about a man that wronged her.
"Shit, Harry. I'm so sorry," I frown, trying to find the right thing to say but failing. What does one say in a situation like this? "Did you find out today?"
Harry shakes his head, looking down to hands and habitually twisting that rose ring around his finger, "No, it happened a few years ago. They hadn't even been married a year. She was shattered when she found out, but she stayed with him anyway."
Oh.. So that's why Harry is so uncivil to his stepfather. But what does that have to do with today?
As I am thinking of my reply, Harry continues, keeping his attention on his hands, "Anyway, the reason I left was because the woman was there, and I snapped. I just couldn't bear seeing my mum so... sad."
"Why the hell was she there?" I ask, probably a little too aggressively. At this point, I'm beginning to feel a little angry on Anne's behalf as well. How could that woman think that coming into their house was okay?
Harry looks up at me, clearly a little surprised at my passionate inquiry.
"It's complicated, but long-story short, Preston loved her in high school, but things didn't work out between them. Years went by and they never saw each other, and then he married my mum." Harry pauses and sighs heavily before continuing, "I don't know how or why, but he ended up sleeping with her and then she married his brother. It's super fucked up, but now whenever Preston's family is over, she is too."
"What the fuck?" The words come out before I can really think about them. I'm just genuinely too shook to fathom that what he has just told me. Surely, that kind of drama doesn't actually happen in real life?
"I know," Harry rolls his eyes. "Preston's brother didn't know about their little fling... until today."
Oh. I see. If Harry did what I think he did, then this really is a lot more serious than I originally thought.
"Harry, you didn't..." I plead mostly to myself, hoping that he didn't do the thing.
At this, Harry cracks a guilty smile as if to confirm my thoughts, and I can't help but groan. This really is too much stress.
"How did you tell him?"
Harry shrugs, "Well, I didn't tell him. I just got so mad seeing my mum like that, so I made a sarcastic comment to Preston. I don't really know what else was said, but I know it blew up and that whore's husband learned the truth about his douchebag brother. Then the screaming started and I was asked to leave."
"Well, just damn," is all I can manage. I'm simply too shocked by everything he has just told me to say anything of any substance. I totally get why Anne made Harry leave now, though. I'd be pissed if I were her, because despite the fact that Harry is just trying to defend his mother, she surely just wants to move on from the whole thing. But with Harry causing such a scene, I imagine that might be a difficult thing to do.
"Yeah," Harry sighs, casting his eyes back down to the bedspread. "And I know I was wrong, so please don't give me a lecture. I feel bad enough already."
Harry's voice is soft and his shoulders are low; I think he really does regret his actions. Even if he didn't regret them, I don't think I would ever attempt to lecture him about his relationship with his parents. Harry may trust me enough to tell me all this, but it's not my place to critique him. Yeah, I think he could have handled it better, but he seems to already know that, so I have no reason to make him feel worse than he does.
"Harry, I wouldn't do that," I say quietly, placing my hand over his and looking him in the eyes.
"You wouldn't?" Harry seems surprised by the gentleness of my voice, which makes me wonder what he must think of me. Did he really think I would be angry with him for this? If anyone is to blame, it's Preston and that woman for not telling the truth.
I frown, "Of course not. You're justified in being angry. I mean, maybe that wasn't the best way for him to find out, but you can't change it now. And besides, you came here to get away from that, so I'm not going to make it worse."
Harry doesn't say anything for several moments, but I can see that he is thinking about what I have just said. He seems somewhat confused that I would respond this way, and I can't help but wonder why he assumed that I would be try to patronize him. Fuck it, I'm going to ask him.
"Why did you think I would lecture you?"
To my surprise, Harry grasps my hand and looks up at me smiling shyly, which sends me into a state of confusion. He was just angry and exhausted, but now he's cute and looking at me like I've just made his day? I don't understand.
"I don't know," he says simply with a shrug of his shoulders. "I guess I just thought you would get mad at me like my mum did."
At this, I laugh aloud. For real?
"Harry, I'm not your mom. I'm here to listen to you, not punish you." With a sigh, I look into his eyes, desperately hoping that he understands that I want to be the person he comes to without fear of a negative reaction. With all that's going on in his life with his family, school, and friends, I want to be a constant that he can rely on. I want him to share his passions with me, his hopes, his dreams, his fears, just everything.
"Surely, you know me better than to think that I would yell at you," I add, observing the bit of light that has infiltrated his eyes. "That's not my thing."
Harry chuckles quietly, his bright smile broadening to expose his beautifully white teeth, "True.. except for when Game of Thrones is on. You yelled at me then."
I roll my eyes at the event to which he is referring. It was probably one of the most intense episodes ever aired, and this boy wouldn't stop interrupting to ask questions about what was happening. So yeah, maybe I spoke a little sternly to him.
"I didn't yell; I just, you know, laid down the rules for watching that show with me." As I defend myself, I find that I am now smiling just as widely as Harry is. Wow, this conversation is all over the place. I need to bring it back to the main point. "But for real, Harry. I want you to know that you can come to me with things like this. I'm here for you no matter how crazy it may be."
"I know," Harry admits, his eyes focusing on me intently. I don't think I could ever get used to the way he looks at me. His eyes are physically beautiful, but his gaze is genuinely one of the most special and intimidating experiences I've ever had. "I guess I was just worried what you might think of me when I told you. I'm not an angry guy, it's just when it comes to my mum, I can't control myself. She deserves so much more than he's given her, and I'm not talking about money."
I nod thoughtfully, contemplating his words and what they mean. First of all, I think it's so cute that he's concerned about my opinion of him. It encourages me even further to think that he does genuinely care about me. At this point, whatever paranoia I had at the beginning of our relationship is pretty much entirely gone, and I couldn't be more thankful for it.
Secondly, it's incredibly endearing that he cares for his mom so intensely. I don't think I've ever realized it before, but I'm beginning to think that Harry is the type of guy that when he loves someone, he loves them hard. The mere possibility of that being true about him makes me feel irrationally giddy inside.
I smile at Harry encouragingly, rubbing my thumb over the back of his hand, "I understand, and you should defend her. And as for what I think of you, Harry, surely you know that I care about you too much for anything to change that."
At this, Harry's cheeks redden and his smile broadens to the point where I can see his happiness in his lively green eyes. Taking his bottom lip between his teeth, Harry nervously bows his head and laughs softly to himself. Right here in this moment he seems so small in front of me, despite that fact that he's a large man who's well over six feet tall. Harry looks so intimidating most of the time, what with his confident demeanor, his lean physique, and his tattoos, but right now with only me to see him, he's an entirely different person. He's someone who cares deeply for others, someone who makes stupid jokes when he thinks no one is listening, and most of all, he's someone who can't take a compliment without turning into the biggest cutie I've ever seen.
I love seeing him like this, so pure and so genuine. Don't get me wrong, I love seeing sexy, rocker Harry as much as the next girl, but this, this is why I feel myself falling for him more and more everyday. I don't really know what it feels like to love someone romantically, but I'm beginning to think that this just might be it. And as someone who typically chooses to push away all my emotions by reasoning them to be irrational, this terrifies me just a little bit. But despite my fear, the way I feel about Harry makes me blindly disregard any hesitations I might have.
"You're so cute when you're embarrassed," I say without thinking. Harry looks up at me, blushing even harder than before and I feel my heart flutter just a bit at how precious he is. Great, now I'm blushing and smiling like an idiot, too.
"Stooooop," Harry groans whilst laughing, slipping his hands from mine to cover his face. As I watch him lean back on the bed, I get this totally insane urge to climb on top of him, and to my surprise, that is exactly what I do. Lifting myself from my spot in front of him, I move onto his lap and and straddle his waist. Harry looks confused for a moment, but it doesn't take him long to follow my lead. Stretching his legs out beneath me, he takes my hips between his hands and pulls me to sit directly on top of him. I gasp when I feel his already hardened cock beneath me and blush at the realization of what exactly is going down. This is the most forward Harry has ever been with me, so needless to say, I'm a little thrown off guard.
Grinning amusedly at me, Harry laughs and slides his hands over my thighs. I've never wished that I didn't have pants on more than I do right now. My heart is racing as Harry stares at me and squeezes my legs in his strong hands, but despite my nervousness, I find myself leaning down to him. Propping myself up with my arm, we are now close enough for the thing that I have desired since I saw him this morning standing there in those hella fine blue jeans.
With more confidence than I thought possible for me to have, I grind my hips forcefully against him and press my lips to his. Harry moans into my mouth, his lips parting slightly as I move against his bulge.
"Fuck, Cam," he mumbles, gripping the back of my thighs even tighter than before. The feeling of his hands on me like this makes that fire in my chest burn hotter than I think it ever has. After a few minutes of a very passionate make out session, I decide to give myself a little change of scenery.
Pulling my lips from his, I move to his neck, sucking the skin just hard enough not to leave a mark. I want to give Harry the most intense hickey he's ever gotten, but given that my parents are here, I really don't think it would be such a good idea. Slowly, I move down on him, unbuttoning his shirt as I go. I leave kisses along his collar bone and his chest, gradually making my way down his bare stomach. The muscles beneath his warm, tattooed skin contract wherever I touch him, boosting my already soaring confidence.
When I reach his belt, I hesitate. I haven't given a blowjob in a very long time, but judging by the hardened bulge in his jeans, I know immediately that my dry streak is about to end. At least, it is if Harry doesn't stop me again.
Reluctantly, I fumble with Harry's belt, unbuckling it carefully lest he push me away. To my surprise, he doesn't. As I struggle to unbutton his pants, Harry groans beneath me, breathing even harder than before.
"Please," he whispers quietly, his voice cracking through his ragged breath. As soon as Harry begs, I suddenly feel so full inside. He wants this, and I want to be the one to give it to him.
So much for no shenanigans.
Finally, I manage to unzip his pants, pulling them down his thick thighs and letting him kick them all the way off. As soon as the jeans are gone, I see just how much they had been restricting him. His boxers are stretched tightly over him, and I suddenly become a little anxious. I haven't seen it yet, but I'm beginning to think that I can't fit him in my mouth.
Ignoring my worries, I hook my fingers around the band of his boxers and begin to tug them down his legs. As soon I do this, it seems like Harry has been snapped out of a trance. Harry's eyes fly open and he sits up abruptly, still breathing unevenly as he looks at me with urgency.
Fuck me. This thing is over, I know it. He always looks at me like this when he's about to remind me about his rules for himself, leaving me in a state of disappointment. Before Harry, I don't think I've ever wanted to suck someone's dick, but now, I find myself thinking of ways that I might please him. All I want to do is make him feel good, but Harry won't let me, and I can't help but feel insecure about it despite his explanations to me last week.
"I'm so sorry, I wasn't thinking" Harry says, clearly distressed. Fuck. Here we go. Looking at me apologetically, he continues, "What about you?"
Hold on a minute, I'm confused.
Harry blinks at me as I stare at him incredulously, unsure of how to respond. What exactly is he asking?
When I finally figure out that he is in fact suggesting that he do a little something-something for me, I am interrupted by an obnoxious ringing noise from the floor where Harry's pants are. He ignores it, keeping his attention on me, waiting for me to say something, but I find ignoring the phone is not so easy for me. What if it's his mom? He shouldn't go to bed tonight having not spoken to her, or else the conflict between them will never really be able to go away. And if he doesn't answer now, it would be too late to call her back.
"Harry, you should see who it is," I tell him, feeling the flames in my chest die down just a bit. Ugh, why do I have to be so rational all the time? It's the worst.
Harry frowns, looking down to his erection and then returning his attention to me, "You really think I could talk on the phone with this? I'm having a hard time talking to you right now as it is."
Ha. A hard time. Get it? No, Camryn, this is not the time for such jokes, no matter how good it may be.
I hide my amusement at my own joke and try to force my smile away, "I know, but it could be your mom. And you should talk to her."
"That would be even worse," Harry groans, clearly uncomfortable in his currently aroused state. "I can't talk to my mum while you have me this fucking hard. That would be just wrong."
I raise my brow at him and sigh, "Just see who it is. If it's her, talk to her and I'll suck you off after. You don't need to go to bed with this thing between y'all unresolved, and I won't let you go to bed with that thing," I point at his dick, "unsatisfied."
Harry's eyes widen at my words and I can't help but laugh as I swing my leg off of him so he can get to his phone. He moves awkwardly, reaching towards the ground and taking it in his hand.
"This is literally the most uncomfortable I've ever been in my life," Harry glares at me before looking at his screen. Judging by his annoyed reaction, I gather that it is his mother. Harry answers his phone and he begins pacing the room in an attempt to distract him from his little situation. Or, I should say his large situation.
I decide that I had better let this conversation be private, so I tell Harry I will be in my room and he nods at me in acknowledgment. As I walk down the hallway, I am one, very amused at Harry's predicament and two, extremely hopeful that he and his mom will work things out. Harry seems regretful, so I really think that their conversation will be a civil one full of understanding.
When I enter I my bedroom, I grab my phone from the bed and see that I have a text from my roommate Gabrielle. This strikes me as odd, seeing as how we aren't really all that close, but I guess it could just be another "Happy Thanksgiving" message. However, this supposition is proven incorrect as I open her message.
It reads, "Hey girl, I know you're probably going to Harry's formal next Friday and I was wondering where you got your dress? Thanks! And happy turkey day!"
As I read her text message, all of my pleasant feelings from moments ago have fallen away and have been replaced by that same, ever-present paranoia I thought I had gotten over. Harry has a formal event next Friday, and he hasn't even asked me to go with him. What the fuck does that even mean?
•••
:) haha haaaa lol I'm sorry this took so long, but I've been kinda busy :/ I hope y'all enjoy though, because this part is the longest chapter I've written so far :)
Thanks for reading! Please vote if you can! :)
-kate💖