Well, it’s how I would see it if it were anyone else.
But this was Harry.
Harry.
I thought back to how he was the next morning, after the first time we sexted. He was happy and relaxed and actually looked vibrant for once. It was nipping at the back of my mind as an excuse for why I could continue. Because another one of those fucked up voices in my head was telling me I was doing it for Harry’s own good.
Which would get me nowhere.
The guy I’d been friends with for longer than anyone, who I’d stuck by no matter what shit either of us went through. He needed me. There was no one else who could take care of him like I could, who would show up for him like me, who was with him every step of the way in life because I wanted it.
Because I wanted to be part of his life.
Because I needed to be.
My head shot up as I looked at myself in the mirror, my damp hair plastered to my face as a sinking feeling settled over me.
I was just fucking around. I was just pushing him because I didn’t think Molly would make him happy. That was it. That was why I was doing it.
My eyes slipped to the blue glass hanging around my neck. The first gift he ever bought me, and I’d worn it permanently since.
I could feel the truth shuddering in me, twisting around, churning in my stomach, gripping my heart in a tight squeeze as my eyes widened.
My fingers curled around the edge of the sink, knuckles white as the tap still ran.
There were only two other times in my life I’d felt like this—once when I was fourteen with my first boyfriend, the second in uni, when my blushing neighbour needed rescuing and I ended up sucking his cock—and I swore I wouldn’t do it again. After Harry, I refused to be vulnerable again.
Suddenly, the idea of him marrying Molly wasn’t just a small thing that pissed me off. Or something I wanted to stop for Harry's own good.
The running tap covered the pure surprise that was bursting inside me as I realised what was going on.
I just wanted to fuck him, that was all. Hold him, rub him in all the right places to get him hot and desperate for me.
But it wasn't just that. It was his smile, his laugh, that look that he didn’t give to anyone else. The way he softened into mewhen I touched him, the way I looked for him whenever we were in the same room. How I wanted to protect him, take care of him, and make sure he was never alone.
Jesus fucking Christ. Why hadn’t I seen it before?
Cat's words floated back to me.
Think about why you get in such a fucking mood every time Harry and Molly take a ‘natural step’
It wasn’t just some attraction dancing between us. I wanted to be with him.
I wanted to treat him like he was the best fucking thing that had ever happened to me. Because he was.
Steam blurred the mirror, and my face faded into nothing as I turned the tap off and tried to calm down.
I mindlessly grabbed another towel to dry myself and hit the light as I came back into the bedroom.
I wouldn’t sleep. Not with this shit beating around my mind. I needed to figure out when it had happened. When I’d gone from easy flirting to a deep need to be the one who made him light up like a fucking firework.
My closet doors were still open. I had to hide the phone again, but that bloody bag was still sitting on the carpet.
I groaned as I moved towards it, hunching down, scanning the contents and seeing my favourite dildo poking out, calling to me.
I knew I had an addictive personality, but it was one thing to spend a night getting wasted on whisky, and another to forceHarry to cheat on his girlfriend because I wanted him to love me.
And he had no fucking clue.
