29. Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Ali
“So, when you get to me, you need to jump a little,” Harry explains, bending his knees and then jumping slightly.
“I did that, and I nearly broke your nose.”
“Yeah, well, you're not supposed to charge at me like a bull to a red flag, Alice,” he deadpans.
I’ve noticed he only calls me Alice when he’s annoyed. I snort a laugh. We've watched chick flicks all afternoon and played cards. It’s been a rainy day in London, so we decided on a movie marathon and ordered in. I really am living my best life in leggings and an oversized white t-shirt, eating my body weight in food. Harry is wearing his gray sweatpants and only gray sweatpants. Watching his muscles flex all afternoon has been the day's highlight.
We agreed on a movie that wouldn't have Harry reaching for the tissues again, so we settled on Mean Girls, Grease, Coyote Ugly, and then Dirty Dancing, and for the past twenty minutes we've been trying to do the lift from the end scene. When I commented that he wouldn't be able to lift me like that he saw it as a challenge, one he wasn't going to pass up.
“I just don't think you can do it. You’re not gripping my hips right.”
“Ali, I’ve fought in two wars, carried Mason’s ass up a mountain in forty-degree heat when he broke his leg, and I got you into bed. I don't give up easily. We are doing this.”
I fold my arms. “Excuse me, are you saying I was a challenge for you?”
With his panty-dropping grin he says, “My biggest one yet, babe, but damn worth it.” he winks.
I roll my eyes and smile, my cheeks heating at his comment. With every day that passes, I feel myself softening, living for his cheeky lines and compliments because they make me feel something I haven’t felt before and I’m still trying to figure out what it is.
“We can do this.” He claps, squatting slightly. “Come at me.”
I start to run and then freeze. “I’m scared,” I admit, my hands flying to cover my face. “I nearly ended up in the damn TV a minute ago. You lifted me too high.”
“You were flapping your arms around like a bird trying to take flight, keep them in front of you, and straight. No flapping.”
“I did not flap,” I argue, sounding like a petulant child.
“You did. Now, let’s go.”
I turn back around to my starting position.
“Now I’ll count you in. When I sing the line, ‘and I owe it all to you’, you need to start running on the owe, got it?”
“Must you sing it? It ruins the vibe.”
“Yes, I must. Let me have my moment,” he says dryly.
I pinch the bridge of my nose. Dear god, if our friends could see us now, they wouldn’t believe it.
He starts to sing. He's not a bad singer but his ego doesn't need to know that. I start to run, bending my knees when I get to him, quite literally taking a leap of faith, praying he will catch me. He grips my hips and lifts me above his head; I straighten out my body, pointing my toes and stretching my arms out, no flapping. It feels exhilarating to be up so high, and in his hold, trusting him.
“Yesssss,” I cheer. He continues to hold me in the air as I brace my hands against his muscular shoulders, my stomach sinking in that addictive way it does when you ride a rollercoaster.
“Put me down.” I laugh but he starts to twirl, spinning me in the air and falling to the couch, catching me in his strong arms and pulling me on top of his naked chest.
“Oh… my god, I thought you were going to drop me,” I gasp, tapping him on the chest. He clasps the back of my head and pulls me towards his face, our lips almost touching. His spicy scent swirling between us.
“I told you, I’d never let you fall. I’ll always catch you.” Suddenly my mouth feels dry, like I’ve swallowed a cotton ball. We stare into each other’s eyes, tension crackling between us. I shift in his lap, moving my hands to cup his face when a loud bang has us turning our heads towards the front door.
“... yeah, okay, 8 pm, I’ll see you there,” a woman’s voice echoes before a tall, slender woman with brunette hair freezes in the middle of the room. “Oh, sorry I didn't mean to interrupt,” Familiar blue eyes meet mine and I run cold. This is not how I imagined meeting Harry's twin, straddling her half-naked brother on her couch.
“Tor, you're back early. What are you doing here?”
“Well, hello to you too, brother. It's great to see you too. I had a great trip. Thanks for asking.”
Ooohh, I like her.
I scramble off Harry's lap and make my way over to her, reaching out my hand. “I’m so sorry. This wasn't the first impression I was planning on. It's nice to meet you. I’m—”
“Ali, right? Harry said you were coming.” She gives me a megawatt smile that reaches her eyes. “Victoria, but call me Tori, or Tor… come here.” She doesn't take my hand, but instead pulls me in for a hug. I’m stunned. I’m not really a hugger unless it's those close to me, but I welcome it. She smells sweet, like cotton candy and cupcakes, and there is something oddly comforting about her. I pull back and take a good look at her.
She’s a little shorter than Harry but taller than me, has the same midnight blue eyes as him and brunette hair plus the same dazzling smile. Yep, I can see the resemblance.
“Come here, sis,” Harry says, pulling her into an embrace. I watch them, a pang of jealousy hitting me. I never got to experience having a brother or sister, that unbreakable bond that only siblings can experience, and I can only imagine how much stronger that is for twins. Harry's whole face lights up looking at her and it's clear he adores hers.
“We all know you're quite the Adonis, Harry, but for the love of god, please put a shirt on. It’s been a long day. I don't need you peacocking around the apartment.”
I snort a laugh and Tori turns to me and gives me a wink.
I love her.
“I would, but Ali Cat over here loves the view. Can't keep her hands off me, can you, babe?”
My eyes and my mouth widen, cheeks flushing, I glance over at Tori as she clamps her mouth closed, stifling a laugh. I’m rendered speechless. What the hell do I say? Thankfully, Harry breaks the silence.
“So, how come you're back so soon… not that I don't love seeing my baby sis, but weren't you meant to be away till Friday?”
“Baby sis?” I question. “Aren't you meant to be twins?”
“He’s six minutes older, so loves to tell people I’m his baby sister.”
“Gotcha.”
“The trip got cut short, and no I’m not talking about it so don't ask. Plus, some of the girls are going to that live band night and my favorites are playing so I wanted to head back. I hope that's okay I can crash at Meghan’s if you need me to.”
“Don't be silly,” I interject, “this is your apartment, we can leave, or I can get a hotel or something. Give you two some time together.”
Harry goes to speak but Tori beats him to it. “Don't be silly, if anyone is leaving it’s him, we can have some girl time and he can find a nice hotel with lots of mirrors so he can get in some quality time with himself.”
We both laugh and Harry narrows his eyes at both of us. “Oh great, now there's two of you giving me shit.”
“You wouldn't want us any other way,” she mocks, cupping his chin, giving his head a little wobble. I love her accent. She still has a strong American one but the odd word has a British twang to it.
“I'm going to freshen up. You two should come tonight, meet some of my girlfriends. Ali, they would love you. Harry’s told me all about you and I think you’d all really hit it off.”
I smile, my heart doing that weird flutter again. This is all so foreign to me.
He's told his sister about me.
“Sure, sounds great. I’d love that.”
“We'll grab some dinner at that Italian place, Little Italy,” Harry suggests.
“Hmmm yes, their meat calzone is to die for,” she moans. “I’ll shower and we’ll head out at six.”
She heads down the corridor, and I hear a door close. I let out a breath, covering my face with my hands.
“Oh, my god, I can’t believe I met your sister when I was straddling you.”
“If she had come in five minutes later, she would have walked in on you riding my dick,” he says, walking towards me, muscles rippling with every step.
I smack his naked chest. “Stop it. God, I hope she doesn't think I’m a slut or—”
“Stop! My sister already loves you. I can tell… call it a twin thing.” He wraps his arms around me, pressing a kiss to my forehead.
“What are we going to tell her, you know, about us?”
“What do you want me to tell her?”
“Well, I thought we were going with the whole ‘I’m here on a business trip thing’ but after she walked in on me saddling up, I don’t think she’s going to buy that.”
“She won't ask and if she does, we’ll say we’re friends.”
I eye him curiously. “Friends?”
“Yeah, friends… that have mind-blowing sex.”
I roll my eyes, shifting in his hold. A pang of sadness hits me at the friend label. I don’t really know what I was expecting him to say to his sister other than that, because that’s what I would have expected him to say. So why does it bother me?
“Speaking of my dick, it has been straining against my sweatpants for the last hour, we're gonna need to do something about that.”
Before I can answer he scoops me up and throws me over his shoulder.
“Harry.” I giggle like a teen on a fairground ride as he runs towards his bedroom, throwing me down on the bed, his muscular frame crashing down on me, the air whooshing from my lungs as he peppers kisses along my jaw and down my neck.
This weird relationship of ours just reached a new level and I don't know what to make of it, but I don't want to unpack that now, not here. Here in London, we can just be, we don't need to overthink, so for now I’m just going to enjoy this for what it is and think about what all this means when I leave, and the idea of leaving hurts more than it should.