FIFTEEN
Gigi
No wonder England is known for being notoriously rainy, because that’s all it ever does. The rain doesn’t stop. The downpour thunders against Mia’s bedroom window. I’d say it woke me up, but I’ve been staring at the glass for hours, watching each droplet splatter against the windowpane and run down the glass as if I can see my own reflection in it.
What’s happening to me …?
I’ll tell you what’s happening. Harry is getting under my skin. I’m not entirely sure how, since he’s made it his life’s mission to keep me away. But now I’ve had a taste of how he feels – how his body feels against mine – I don’t think I can ever let him go.
I don’t just crave his touch. I crave all of him.
I’m intrigued by the danger he exudes, and I ache to be pulled into the darkness alongside him. No matter what secrets he’s keeping.
Mia rolls over in bed, and I feel her gaze on the side of my cheek for a long while before she finally asks, “Is everything okay?”
Three little words. One extremely loaded question. No simple answer.
My mind has reached maximum capacity with the number of questions running rampant through it, all down to a man who would give me everything I’ve ever wanted one minute and shatter it to pieces the next .
I turn back to her, huffing out a breath. “I’m not sure.”
Mia’s never been one to mope over her feelings, so she sits up with a sigh, shaking her head as if what I said was an utter travesty. After much deliberation, she insists we get out of the house and rid all male existence from my brain. While that sounds fairly straightforward, it takes more convincing than I’d like to admit.
“You are Gigi Thomas. You can do this.”
“I can do this.”
“He’s just a man.”
“Just a man,” I deadpan.
A really fucking hot one.
It’s Sunday and the local bakery is swarming with customers, causing the bell above their heads to constantly chime. Floor-to-ceiling windows cover the front of the property, giving way to the crowds eager to escape the heavy downpour. Mia and I stand in line to order, and I people-watch from afar, my eyes roaming over bystanders and their umbrellas.
But my attention is drawn to one man.
He pulls the hood of his black hoodie over his head, concealing his tousled dark hair. His shoulders are hunched, giving the false illusion he’s much shorter than he is, but I only know one man who exhibits that kind of intimidation. Keeping his head down, he bypasses people on the street, eager to get to his destination.
He may be a stranger to others, but I’d recognise him instantly.
I whisper under my breath, “There’s no way …”
“Did you say something?”
My eyes chase the movement through the busy crowd of people, watching Harry weave through the flurry of oversized umbrellas.
I turn to Mia. “I think I’ve just seen someone I know … rain check?”
She frowns quickly, her suspicion rising to the surface .
Shit.
Chancing a look over at the front door and back to me, she says, “Of course. Go and do what you need to do—”
I’ve already kissed her cheek and fled the bakery before there’s time to finish the sentence. A heavy onslaught of wet wind hits my cheeks, beading my face with raindrops. The crowd is heavy despite the weather, and I duck under the brollies to try and catch up to my target.
“Sorry … sorry … excuse me … can I get past?” I mutter to people as I push through, following Harry at a close distance as he parts the crowd with a confidence only he could exude.
He ducks his head lower, takes a right, and walks into a small alleyway, under the cover of tall buildings that shelter us from the rain. I watch from afar as he continues forwards, hands pushed deep in his pockets, chancing a look around every few seconds.
Who’s he looking out for?
The rain pounds harder, and he jogs towards his G-Wagon. He climbs in the front seat and shuts the door, concealing himself from the weather. I duck between vehicles, keeping my body low, until I finally reach my own car, which is parked just a few rows back from his. When I unlock the door and climb in, the rain sounds far heavier as it pounds on the bonnet like thunder.
The red brake lights of his vehicle flash, and I quickly strap my seatbelt round me, prepared to follow him. But he doesn’t move.
The car stays idle.
As the rain falls unforgivingly, I can barely make out the outline of Harry’s car through the thick drops distorting my view through the windshield.
I never thought I had it in me to stalk someone, but here I am, nonetheless, feeling like a criminal.
I sit here for what feels like hours. Just watching.
The car continues to sit with its brake lights on, refusing to move. Harry hasn’t made any attempt to leave. Maybe he’s waiting for the rain to stop. Maybe he’s waiting for someone.
“What are you doing, Harry?” I whisper.
Fog builds up on the insides of the windows, and cars around us start to disappear as time ticks by with the weather showing no signs of calming down.
Wiping my jumper sleeve against the glass, I notice the brake lights of Harry’s car turn off and the door open. Quickly unbuckling my belt again, I wait briefly before I silently shut my door and follow him. Keeping my forearm raised above my eyes to shield myself from the rain, I trail after him towards the alleyway.
But when I reach the opening, I freeze.
He’s disappeared.
He just came through here …
Fuck!
I toss my head back and forth, hair sticking to my skin and catching between my lips. This can’t be it. He couldn’t have just disappeared.
Right as I’m about to turn round, I’m forced back against the wall of the building beside me, and a hooded figure fills my vision. Emerald eyes are blinding through the dark shadow concealing his face.
Harry.
He pulls his hood down quickly, a frown etched between his brows, but it’s far from the stubborn look he always carries. This is something else.
“Are you following me?”
“No.” Liar. “I swear.”
My body shakes from the rain soaking my clothes, causing Harry’s body to feel like a furnace against my skin. Eager for some warmth – or perhaps simply wanting to touch him – I drop my hand to his shoulder and fist the material between my fingers.
Raindrops are thick against my eyelashes, and they flutter with the restraint of trying to stay open. Harry’s lips are wet from the rain, and my eyes focus on them for a second too long.
I watch his mouth move as he says, “Don’t lie to me.”
“I’m not,” I say, meeting his eye again.
He raises his hand to my face, the pad of his thumb stroking away raindrops from my cheekbone. “I’ll ask you again.” He attempts to distract me, his voice eerily calm. “Are you following me?”
“No.”
He lowers his thumb, swiping it across my lower lip and pulling it out from between my teeth.
“Why can’t you just leave me alone?” he whispers, holding my cheek carefully as if he fears he’ll be the one to break me.
I shouldn’t be so affected by his touch, but having his mouth so close to mine is utterly addicting. I always thought I was the type of woman who would never need a man. And I don’t really … I just need Harry.
“Go home, Gigi.”
He pulls away, heading in the other direction and causing me to stumble over my own feet at his brisk exit.
I’m getting whiplash from this constant back and forth.
These stolen touches, lustful glances … and then fighting whatever’s brewing underneath.
A roar of frustration races up my throat, and I notice his steps falter.
“You’re so confusing!” I shout above the rainfall, my throat hoarse. “You feel inclined to protect me from other men, but I’m ‘not yours to protect’. You threaten men who even look at me. You want me, and you know it!”
His back muscles tighten under his jumper, and I sense the moment he starts resisting his better instincts.
“Stop fighting it,” I plead. “Let me in.”
Silence stretches between us, and for a brief moment I convince myself he’s going to storm over here and shake some sense into me. Whatever he does, it’ll be better than this.
But of course, he doesn’t move.
And I’m standing here like a fool.
This is it then.
Having made up my mind, I turn on my heel and head back towards my car, walking away from Harry with quickness in my step. Whether it’s to get some shelter from the weather or so I can’t backtrack on my actions, I’m not sure.
I reach the driver’s side of my car and retrieve my keys from my pocket, but they fall from my grip when my body is spun round with urgency. Harry pushes me back against the car door, catching himself against the metal beside my head, the quick movement sucking the air from my chest.
I’m too breathless to even think straight as he brings his forehead down to mine. His other hand slides across the nape of my neck, cupping it in his palm as his eyes flicker down to my mouth.
“Is this what you want?” he asks, his voice strained.
“Y-yes.”
He leans in closer, a hint of doubt dancing between his eyes.
“You enjoying pushing me to my fucking limit?”
I nod.
His eyes focus on my lips for another few seconds. He lowers his head down to my height slowly, torturously, until he finally meets my lips in a kiss.
Being kissed by Harry is everything I ever expected it to be and everything I didn’t. The feeling explodes from the tips of my toes, rushing up my legs, pooling in my stomach, before it rises up my ribcage, coaxing my throat open and escaping my mouth with a hot gasp against his lips.
I let him into my mouth without hesitation, and his tongue strokes the side of mine. He pushes me further into the car, and I arch my back to bring him even closer to me. A groan slips free from his throat, causing my stomach to spiral. I tug his T-shirt in response, fingering the wet cotton fabric between my fingertips, craving more.
Craving all of him.
A moan drags out of my mouth, and he slides his hand to the back of my head, into the strands of my hair, as he tightens, forcing me to crane my neck so he can kiss me deeper, harder. It’s ravenous.
Desperate for friction to ease the ache between my thighs, I grind my hips up against him.
“Gigi …” he mumbles in warning, catching my bottom lip between his teeth.
I slip my hand down the front of his body to help release the pressure. But as soon as my fingers skim the tented fabric of his jeans, he captures both of my wrists and slams my hands above my head.
My hips buck in response, but he tears our lips apart. When he rests his forehead against mine, we stare at each other with bated breath. I pant for air, my mind spiralling with a million emotions, but one stands out further than the rest.
“You can’t expect me to let you go now,” I whisper.