Tamed By You (Always & Forever #2)

53. Chapter Fifty-Three

Chapter Fifty-Three

Harry

Three… two… one. I fall back on the mat on the gym floor, my abs burning from the vigorous routine I just put them through. I’m lucky my building has a gym. I’m not usually one for cardio, but today I pounded that treadmill till the rubber nearly wore away. I’ve so much adrenaline running through my body at the minute, a mixture of longing for her, missing her, wanting her, needing her.

Giving her space has been the hardest thing. Going at her pace, praying she will one day want me again the way I want her. Not just physically, but emotionally. I miss hanging out with her, miss our physical connection, how she just fitted perfectly in my arms, our little jokes, waking up with her body pressed against mine. I miss the way she laughs, the way her eyes sparkle when she’s excited, how she cries at every movie we have ever watched, even though she would never admit it. I miss watching her take her make up off at the end of a long day, and the way she smiles when she realizes I’ve been watching her.

I miss all of her.

“Fuck,” I hiss out loud, pushing myself up, reaching for my towel, and wiping the beads of sweat off my forehead.

I head back up to my apartment, showering and changing into some sweatpants and matching sweatshirt. This evening feeling a little chillier, Fall clearly on its way. Sitting on my couch, I toss my phone from hand to hand, waiting for her call. Contemplating if I should call her.

No, you said she was in control. Let her call you.

The rain hammers against the window, New York dark and gray, miserable, much like my mood. A bolt of lightning, followed by a clap of thunder, startles me. I sit in silence, only listening to the sounds of the storm in the dark, the city lights keeping my apartment a glow.

A faint knock echoes from my front door, and I jump up, knowing it’ll be Jack checking in on me again since he only lives on the floor below.

Opening the door, I go to speak and stop, shocked to see the person staring back at me, soaked to the bone, rain droplets trickling down her pale cheeks. She folds her arms around her, her body visibly shivering.

“Ali, what are you—”

“I, erm, went on a walk. I didn’t want to be alone, and I ended up here…” Her teeth chatter on the last word.

“Come here.” I take her hand, pulling her in, not caring that she’s soaking wet, not caring that I’m meant to be keeping my distance. My instincts kicking in, wanting to protect her, keep her warm.

“Baby, you’re freezing,” I whisper, holding her tightly to my body, my own clothes absorbing the rainwater from hers.

“Can I stay, just for a little bit?” she mumbles into my chest.

I pull back, lifting her face to mine. “Ali, you don’t have to ask. You can stay as long as you want.”

Stay with me forever.

She gives me a thankful smile and I take her hands. “Come on, let’s get you warmed up.”

I take her down the hall to my bedroom. Flicking on the bedside lamp, I point to the bathroom.

“Go take a shower, I’ll, umm, wait here and find you some clothes. Throw yours out here and I’ll dry them for you.” She nods and goes into my bathroom. I grab a sweater and the smallest pair of sweatpants I can find. I know they won’t fit her, but we’ll make it work till hers dry. I lay them out on the bed and head to my laundry room to throw her clothes in the dryer. I lean against the machine, giving myself a minute.

She came to me. She wants to be here.

It’s a small step, but a good one.

I head back to my bedroom, knocking on the door, still wanting to be respectful and give her space.

“Come in,” she calls. She’s dressed, my clothes drowning her small frame as she towel dries her hair.

“Sorry, they were the smallest clothes I could find.”

“It’s fine, thank you. Do you have a brush I could use?”

“Yeah, sure, come here,” I say, gesturing for her to follow me into the bathroom. The room is filled with steam. It’s warm, the scent of my body wash filling the air and a little part loves that she now smells of me.

I open the drawer, pulling out a brush. She reaches for it, and I gesture for her to stand in front of me.

“Let me,” I say softly. Her eyes meet mine and something unreadable flashes across them. “Let me take care of you, Ali Cat.”

She steps in front of me, and I begin to brush her long, blonde hair. Taking my time, careful not to tug too hard, working my way slowly through every strand. I look in the reflection of the large circular mirror that hangs above the basins. Her eyes are closed, her shoulders dropping a little with every stroke, she looks relaxed, and my stomach does a strange little flip knowing I’m making her feel this way.

“We should dry it. You don’t want to get cold,” I say opening the drawer and plugging in the hair dryer.

“You have a dryer?” she asks, a playfulness in her tone.

“Sure do. You don’t look like me without some good products and a hair tool.”

She laughs' light and airy, just like she used to, and it makes my heart do a little flutter.

“I was going to say, that body wash had a high-class smell, very fancy.”

“Only the best for us, Ali Cat.”

Us.

I flinched the minute I said it. Because what if we are never an Us again? I flick on the dryer to break the tension.

When I’m done, I place the dryer on the countertop and she turns to face me, suddenly feeling nervous to speak to her. I don’t want to fuck this up. This is a big deal, her coming here.

“Are you, uh, hungry?” I fumble through my words as I tidy up the bathroom.

She shakes her head. “No, I ate before I left.”

“Cool, ermm. Do you want to, watch a movie?” Her eyes light up. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

We head back to the main living area. I gesture for her to go sit on the couch. “You pick the movie; I’ll get us some drinks.”

I boil the kettle and make us both a mug of English breakfast tea, her favorite. It’s all I’ve drunk since London, thinking of her every time I do. Heading over to my couch, I hand her the steaming mug of tea, then grab the gray blanket I keep rolled up in a basket behind the couch.

She blows into the steaming mug and takes a few sips before placing it down on the coffee table and I set mine down beside hers.

She gasps. “Oh, my god, I haven’t watched this movie in ages.” I look at the screen. The title Crazy Beautiful flashes on the screen. Very fitting, because that’s how I see her. Crazy beautiful.

“Put it on,” I tell her as I relax into my corner and drape the blanket over the back of the couch. The movie plays, we sit at opposite ends. Scene after scene plays, we’ve likely watched half now, but I’ve barely seen any of it. I’ve just been too busy watching her.

I lean across the couch and pull her towards me, bracing myself for her resistance, but she doesn’t. I lift my arm, signaling for her to come closer, and she does without hesitation. I wrap my arms around her, stroking a hand through her hair as she sniffles against my chest.

This, this is what I’ve missed the most. Holding her, and for the first time since this all happened, it feels like a little piece of her has come back to me. The end credits roll, and her body grows heavier beneath me. I tug at the blanket and drape it over us.

“Thank you.” Her voice is so quiet I barely hear her.

Pressing a kiss to her head I reply, “I’ve got you, Ali Cat, always. When you are tired of falling, fall into my arms. I’ll always be here to catch you, and I’ll never let you fall again.”