Chapter 17
Dom
Ishifted my weight from foot-to-foot, squeezing my fists as I shoved them in my pockets to hide the indecision that hummed around me as I waited for Harry’s front door to open.
It hadn’t even been twenty-four hours since the biggest fuck-up of my life, and I was probably about to make everything ten-times worse.
He and Molly had a perfect little two-story house that looked exactly like all the other perfect two-story houses within a mile radius.
Nice small garden out front with a driveway, pretty light blue door, and decorations in the window that screamed ‘happy couple’, like a wicker love heart and large pastel pink candles.
Awful, really. I poked fun at Harry about it once, but he got huffy, so I dropped it. It hadn’t changed my mind, though. I hated cutesy things, but the hospital was only a five-minute walk away, and easier for Molly to get to work, but it meant he had a half-hour drive every morning.
The door swung open, and I briefly fingered the phone in my left pocket that held evidence of my crime.
Harry’s face brightened into a wide smile, one I hadn’t seen properly for months. I had a stupid idea last night that maybe we could do it again, and his smile was tipping the scale. But I was here to return the phone. Or hide it, really. That was it.
He was already dressed in a navy suit. His chestnut beard was neatly trimmed, his hair styled, his grandpa’s cufflinks and polished shoes all in place, the image of a high-class businessman. No one had a clue that he was stroking and fingering himself last night, apart from me.
But the worst part was he was wearing a red apron over it all, and it set off an instant need to devour him.
He reached for me, pulling me into a hug.
I was too surprised to react. I was usually the one touching him, and he tended to endure it.
The warm brush of his breath on my neck sent a fresh wave of desire running through me.
One solid beat of my heart pounded through my body, stealing my breath.
By the time I lifted my arms to hold him, he was already stepping away.
“I’m so glad you’re here.” He beamed up at me, grabbing my arm and twisting on one foot to pull me inside.
It wasn’t exactly the reception I anticipated, but I’d take it, nonetheless.
“I’ve only got ten minutes before I need to leave,” he rushed out, “but it’s really good to see you again.” He led me into the kitchen, leaving me next to the counter by the fridge while he pottered around. “Do you want coffee or anything?”
“No, I’m fine,” I said slowly, trying to assess what was going on.
“Tea? Fruit?”
“No, thanks, handsome. I'm good,” I replied softly.
I folded my arms, watching him closely as he hummed, putting cat food out for Mr Snuggles, giving him a quick kiss on the head before he went back to the washing up. Which explained the apron that he'd tied in a ribbon, the strands stroking over his ass like arrows pointing to my final destination.
Two seconds in and he was already turning me on.
I mean, I’d seen him like this before. It wasn’t anything different. I’d even had to force him out the door in the past while I finished the washing up because he’d been late for work.
I was still staring at his ass when he spun around, cocking his head. “Why did you want to see me, then?”
I cleared my throat, watching him as he returned to the dishes. “I don’t know if I can make it to brunch on Sunday. My workload is pretty heavy.” I leant against the counter, tapping my fingers on my arm.
“Really?” He paused, his rubber-gloved hands dripping with soap, narrowing his eyes at me. “And you came over to tell me that? You could have just called.”
“Well, I…” I trailed off, rubbing my hand on the back of my neck as he watched me with clear brown eyes, not a single drop of suspicion. And why would there be? “I wanted to apologise for the other night. For taking off and everything.”
It was a fucking lame excuse, but it was the only thing I had at the moment.
“Oh, that’s fine.” He turned his back to me again and waved a hand in front of him, bubbles dripping onto the sideboard.
I was struck by the need to hold him. If we were lovers, I would have wrapped my arms around him, dragged his hips back against my cock and told him exactly how I felt about him leaving for work when I was still hungry for him.
What a fucking nightmare. I thought I'd squashed all that shit a decade ago and stayed his friend instead.
“But thank you for coming to say that. It’s kind of you.” Harry plopped the last wet dish in the rack before slipping off the gloves and wringing his hands with a tea towel. His eyes softened, his smile genuine as he stepped towards me.
“I need to clean my teeth.” He grinned as he undid his apron and pulled it off. “Just give me a minute.”
I watched him as he disappeared down the corridor, humming to himself.
He was usually exhausted in the mornings, stretched to the end of his limits. Sometimes I could barely get a sentence out of him before he’d had a coffee. So I'd obviously done him some good.
And I was tempted to use that as my excuse to sext him again.
That was why I had to do it as quickly as possible. In and out, no complications. Drop the phone somewhere in the flat, breathe a sigh of relief, and hope Harry never brought it up with me.
I moved into action. I had to find somewhere to put Molly’s phone without it being strange. My eyes scanned the kitchen, but there wasn’t anywhere that screamed ‘I put it there and forgot’. If I left it in the sugar jar or put it in the cutlery drawer, it would raise too many questions.
I heard his electric toothbrush buzz to life as I entered the living room. I had maybe two minutes at most to plant the evidence.
If I’d lost my phone, the sofa was pretty much the first place I’d look, but it was the best option I had. I just had to stuff it so far down the back that they wouldn’t have found it the first time they searched.
Harry and Molly’s house was normally messy, but it suited them. Candles, magazines, and TV remotes littered the coffee table, all pushed out of the way to make room for Harry’s laptop. It sat open right in front of me as I inspected their big corner sofa, looking for the best place to bury it.
Six feet under would have been smarter.
But the idea that Harry was so turned on that he came for me had me stroking one out earlier as I reread the texts.
I just had to hope Harry wouldn’t make the connection between the texts, me showing up, and the phone being found in the sofa.
If I was lucky, they wouldn’t discover it until Molly came back.
I lifted the pillow by the armrest, phone clutched in one hand as I pressed the other down as far as it could go. I needed to make sure the phone could disappear completely.
I wiggled my fingers around, confirming there was enough space to hide it, when Harry’s laptop dinged.
My eyes darted to the screen, open on his email. It seriously annoyed me that he had so many unread emails, but it was the newest one that drew my attention.
Molly – Hi
So, like the idiot I was, I pulled my hand from the sofa, replaced the cushion, and sat down. Slipping the phone back into my pocket, I bent forwards, put my finger on the touchpad and clicked the email.
I figured that I’d already gone far enough; reading one of her emails was nothing compared to what I’d done last night.
Harry’s toothbrush still buzzed away in the background, so I was safe.
Hi, I think it’s best if we don’t text or call when I’m away. I want a bit of space, and the reception here is crap, anyway. They said another storm is coming and the internet will be down for a week or two. I’ll message you when I’m back in Oslo.
I sat looking at the screen, my brow creased.
Harry mentioned last night that he wanted to talk, or being hurt, or something that implied they’d had another argument, but I didn’t think it was at this level.
No kisses, no ‘I love you’s’, nothing to suggest she was even missing him.
Another thought hit me as I realised Molly had just presented me with my get-out clause.
Well, five weeks of it, at least. It could give me enough time to create some kind of buffer so that my life didn’t gently go to shit within the next few days.
At least in the Harry department. I could pretend everything was fine until Molly left her family's place.
But then came the voice. That fucking voice that told me I could take advantage of the situation.
I groaned internally as I reread the message. All I needed to do was push the phone into the sofa, get up, and leave. Then act surprised if Harry ever told me about the mysterious sexting. Nice and easy. No major complications.
Which was exactly what I was going to do.
I had the phone in my hand, hovering over the crevice I’d already explored. I wouldn’t be like Sally. I wasn’t going to take advantage of someone I cared about for my own benefit. I didn’t do that shit.
And then I looked up at the bookcase in front of me.
Filled with hundreds of medical books from his and Molly’s studies, most of them hidden by picture frames, crammed together at the front of the shelves, of all the moments in Harry’s life that he treasured.
And I’d been up there way longer than Molly.
Birthdays, Christmases, our graduation, our first holiday together, their anniversary, group photos of his co-workers, his family dinners, and all his other achievements. I was dotted throughout his life, and I went even deeper into it last night.
I wanted to sink into it, into him.
I could feel my temper rising. It was the same kind of frustration that got me whenever I saw rich snobs looking down on clients because they grew up in a fucking bungalow rather than a thirty-room mansion.
It was the pissed off state that got me when people didn't realise how good their life was and what a fucking blessing they had.
Looking back at her blunt email, something inside me snapped.
I shoved the phone in my pocket, pausing, trying to think of a plausible reply I could give to her that would somehow work. Because if I kept on texting him, he wouldn’t think his fiancée had gone AWOL.
And when Harry found out, I could brush it off and tell him I enjoyed fucking around with him, that it was just fun.
Yup, no problem with that plan. Absolutely solid, and in no way fucked up on every possible level.
I should have been listening out for his bloody toothbrush instead of getting absorbed in my own unfounded daydreams.
Just as I lifted my fingers to the keys, his footsteps sounded behind me.
“Hey,” Harry called. I whipped my head around as he breezed into the room, that huge grin his new permanent feature, his eyes dropping to my hands. “Anything interesting?” he asked as he headed for the kitchen again.
I was the one who put that smile on his face. I pushed him and made him come last night. It was always me who was there for him, who he could turn to, who he had relied on the past decade because I actually gave a shit about him.
Unlike Molly.
With a shot of panic, I quickly typed a reply.
Sure. I’ll be busy anyway, and I want some space too. Enjoy the wedding.
“Just checking the news, seeing how my latest case is going,” I called back to him as I swallowed down my guilt.
Sending off the reply, I deleted the email and my response, going to the trash to get rid of any trace of it. I blew out a heavy breath as I closed the laptop, leaning back on the sofa just as he came back into the living room.
I looked at him grinning down at me, and not a single clue that I kind of already committed to the idea of using him. I’d messed with so many people in my life, but Harry was supposed to be off-limits.
But it was different from Sally’s crap. I was doing it for a good reason: to keep Harry’s smile, to make him happy.
“Here.” I picked up the laptop and handed it to him as he rounded the sofa, apron gone, coffee in hand, ready to go. “You don’t want to be forgetting this. Again,” I said, knowing how easily he left things, pretending there wasn’t a maelstrom of triumph and guilt working its way through me.
“Thanks,” he said softly as he took it, shaking my heart at the sight of his gentleness. “Though, honestly, with the number of screens I have to deal with at work, I probably don’t need it.”
“Do you want me to bring you anything later? I’ll be off at six.”
“No, don’t worry about it,” he said as he pushed the laptop into his briefcase. "I plan to leave the office at five.” He nodded with that determined look on his face.
I gave him my own look, my brows rising. We both knew exactly what was going to happen.
“So, I’ll be over at six then?” I asked.
Harry bit his lip, giving me the cutest fucking smile in the world as he clicked his briefcase closed and adjusted his jacket.
“Yeah, alright. Six it is.” He chuckled as he scanned the room, giving everything a final check.
His eyes flicked to the clock behind me. “I’ve got to go, just let yourself out, okay?” Harry said, waving behind him as the door clicked, and I was alone again.
I should have just waited until he left so I could actually think about what I was going to do. But the email had been sent, deleted, and the laptop was currently in Harry’s hand, so it was done.
I didn’t have to go through with it at all. I could just hide the phone away, wait it out, pretend I knew absolutely nothing and take the secret to my grave.
I could tell myself that as much as I wanted, but I knew it was a lie. I wouldn’t have sent that email if that’s what I actually wanted.
Mr Snuggles hopped onto the chair beside me, looking at me pointedly, seeing everything, judging me.
They bought that stupid cat after they moved in together, and I swear it had a vendetta against me.
I glared back at him.
“What?” I asked bluntly, narrowing my eyes, but all I got was an appalled meow.
I sighed as I pushed myself to my feet. No matter how this played out, it couldn’t end well. I just had to make the most of it while it lasted.