Blue

I bolted upright in bed. Fuck—of all the times to remember a) I had a job and b) I hadn’t called anyone at said job to know I was still out in California, Tuesday was not the day for it to happen. I’d completely missed one day. It was….shit….I had no idea what time it was. For all I knew, it was West Coast noon-ish, which meant East Coast three-ish which meant I’d missed two days.

Harry lifted his head from the pillow, sleepily rubbing his eyes with his fists. It was adorable….but I couldn’t let his sleepy, adorable morning cuteness distract me. “What’s wrong, baby girl?”

“I forgot to call my job and let them know that I wasn’t coming in for…um…however long I’m not going in for.” I leaned over him and looked at the bedside table. Harry’s phone. No sign of my phone. “Do you know where my cell phone is?”

“Downstairs, maybe?” He ran his hand up and down my arm. This was also distracting.

I kissed his lips quickly and scrambled out of bed, pawing my hair out of my face. For whatever reason, I still had on one boot—just one boot, not a thread of anything else—and the heel gave me a weird, peg leg gait like I was a pirate strutting across the hardwood floor. Ridiculous. Thank God Harry didn’t like me for my grace and sophistication.

As I stopped to unzip my boot, I turned my face towards the bed. He was watching me intently. “Look how you don’t even bend your knees when you do that. And you pretended not to be flexible last night.”

“That really was a cramp in my hamstring, I swear to God.” I yanked the boot off my leg and straightened, facing him. “How hard is it to find your front door? That’s not a euphemism, either, I honestly don’t know how we got upstairs from downstairs. Obviously, a staircase.”

He laughed and sat up, stretching his arms out to his sides and yawning. His hair was a tangle of curls and part of it was sticking out the side. “You can use mine.”

“Is this a ploy to get me back in bed?”

“Yes.” He held out his phone and pulled the sheets back, opening up a spot next to him. “I have no intention of us leaving my bed today.”

Heat flushed down my arms and no doubt reddened my cheeks; my body needed to stop having this kind of reaction to him. At this rate, my face no doubt looked perpetually sunburned. Crawling in bed next to him, I took the phone from him and quickly punched in my supervisor’s phone number. This was going to be….um….interesting.

The phone rang several times before she picked up, most likely because she was either in session or because she didn’t recognize the number. “This is Jessica.”

“Jess, it’s me, I’m sorry.” I blurted out. “I forgot to call you. I fucked up.”

“Laney?”

“Yes. I’m sorry, I’m still out in California and I literally—literally—just remembered I forgot to call you and tell you I was staying out here longer.” I took a deep breath. “I’m so sorry.”

“This isn’t your phone number. Is everything okay?”

“I’m fantastic, actually, thanks for asking.” My breath caught in my throat; Harry was leaning over and pressing his lips to my shoulder. “I need to take some more time off. Of course, I don’t actually have vacation or PTO time so…um, I guess just don’t put me on the schedule.”

Jess started laughing. “I’m just glad you’re not dead. What have you been doing since Sunday? Who gets married on Sunday, by the way, because that seemed odd to me.”

“I’ve been doing…stuff.”

“Me.” Harry pulled me back against him and flashed me a charming smile.

Jess either didn’t hear him, or ignored him. “I guess you made some friends?”

“Friends, yes. I’ve seriously been having a kick-ass time out here and I just decided, what the fuck? I’ll chill out here a bit longer before heading back to doldrums and reality. And I may be well on my way to getting kicked out of the sorority. So, there’s that.”

“Good. I told you those bitches were no good for you. Not counting Violet, of course.” Jess didn’t sound mad and this was a good, good sign. That mean there was the slight possibility I’d still have a job when I got home. “So, when are you coming home?”

Fuck. “When am I coming home?” I repeated, hoping the answer would materialize out of thin air. Mirror, mirror on the wall; who can make up the best excuse of them all?

“Well, you’re part-time here still. Like you said, you don’t qualify for time off or vacation time, so I just won’t put you on the schedule. It’s not a big deal. You know the drill.”

“Uhhhh…” my mind was racing; I was mentally dancing as fast I could to come up with some kind of answer. I still wasn’t sure exactly what was going on between me and Harry—which was fine, whatever—but when you don’t know what’s going on, it’s pretty hard to come up with a plan of action. Or estimated travel dates. Or if I needed to go out and buy more clothes. Or anything beyond what was actually happening right at that moment.

Harry’s lips had tightened like he was holding back his beautiful laugh. “Two weeks.” He said.

I cocked up eyebrow up quizzically and made some kind of unattractive, questioning noise in my throat. Awesome.

He flashed me his beautiful smile and again said, “Two weeks. You’re staying here two weeks.”

“Two weeks.” I blurted out. Wait. What?

“Okay, cool. Well, have fun, lady! Call me when you’re home and we’ll get you back on the schedule. I’ve never been to California. Is it awesome?”

“It’s basically the best time of my life.”

“Did you meet a guy?” “What? No. Of course not.” I cleared my throat nervously. “So, I gotta go. I’ll talk to you later. Tell Marnie’s group I said hi.”

“Stay safe, Laney.”

“Got it. Bye.” I hung up the phone before she could say anything else. Why did it seem like everyone was convinced I was being held against my will or something? People could, at the drop of a hat, just decide to stay on the opposite end of the country, right? With a guy they just met?

Ummm.

“Okay, so, what did I just agree to?” I handed Harry back his phone and snuggled down in his arms, resting my head on his chest. “Two weeks, eh?”

“I’m in town two weeks. Then I’m flying out to Asia for part of our tour.” He brushed my hair out of my eyes and pressed his lips to my forehead. “I want to spend the two weeks with you. I mean, um, if you want to stay with me.”

“Of course I want to stay with you.”

His eyes lit up; his hands dropped to my waist and he gently squeezed me. “I don’t want this to be over. Ever.”

My heart flip-flopped in my chest. There was an intensity to him that I couldn’t shake; I didn’t want to shake. I was perfectly content with him, here, wearing nothing but a smile and relaxing in his arms. “Me either.”

There was a comfortable silence and he pressed his lips to my forehead again, tangling his fingers into my hair and holding me close to him. After several moments, he murmured, “I should make you breakfast.”

“I live for danger, Hazza. I don’t normally eat breakfast.”

“It’s the most important meal of the day.”

“Unsubstantiated propaganda.” I giggled. “I have pop tarts in my suitcase. I’m willing to share with you and you should find that complementary. I don’t share my pop tarts with just anyone.”

He squirmed down in the bed, leveling his gaze to mine. “I like everything about you. From this blue hair all the way down to your tattooed toes.”

“The tattoos on my ankles match the tattoos on your chest.”

“Souls find each other.” He trailed his fingertips down my cheek and then brushed his lips against mine. “One is for sorrow…”

“…two is for joy.” I bit my lip lightly, running my hands through his curls. “I didn’t think anyone knew that poem but me.”

He studied me intently, his fingertips trailing down my cheek and jaw line. “Maybe I should take you to Asia with me.”

“Maybe you should.”

He seemed to consider the thought, leaning forward and touching his forehead to mine. Taking a deep breath, he murmured, “So…ehm…what kind of pop tarts did you bring?”

“Cookies and cream. Is there any other kind worth buying? Well, s’mores. I’ll answer for you.”

He pressed up into a sitting position and ran his fingers through his hair, sweeping his bangs off to the side, and then pulled me up to my feet. “Come on, babe. I’ll let you treat me to breakfast.”

I giggled. “Such a gentleman.”

“Oh, I’m a gentleman, baby girl.” He slid his hand down my arm and laced his fingers around mine. “I always let you cum first.”

“On a somewhat related note, you weren’t kidding when you said you’d rather be naked.” I gratuitously glanced at him from stem to stern, fully appreciating each inch of inked—and non-inked—skin. “I fully endorse this decision.”

He pouted. “Well, uh, if you really want to put clothes on, you can…but…I’d rather you didn’t.”

“It’s hard to resist your pout.”

“It’s hard for me to resist any part of you.”

“I noticed that last night.”

He chuckled and nudged me with his hip. “I’ll be completely honest, love…I can’t get enough of your body. And your…everything.”

“I’m pretty fond of your…everything, too.” I stopped walking and pulled him backwards, peeking into a room next to the staircase. “You didn’t tell me you have a piano.”

“I have a piano.” He nudged me into the room, warmly lit by the sunshine pouring in the windows. Not only did he have a baby grand and several guitars, both electric and acoustic, but he had a mini recording studio set up at the far end of the room. He motioned to the piano bench. “I don’t have a lot of sheet music…so…ehm…sorry.”

I sat at the piano bench and ran my fingers across the keys. “Actually, I can’t read music.”

“I…wait. Do you just really like touching piano keys?” He sat next to me, pressing his lips to my neck. “Because, if you’re looking for something to touch, I’ve got something for you…”

“I play by ear.” I slid my fingers onto the keys and started playing Moonlight Sonata. “I earned enough credits for a music minor last semester, but I can’t read music. The head of the music department would shit himself if he knew.”

He listen in silence as I played, pumping my bare foot over the pedals. I switched to Fur Elise. “My mom made us all take piano lessons, but I never was able to catch on. Some kind of brain disconnect I guess, or maybe I’m just too easily distracted. Anyway, as long as I heard the teacher play it first, I could play it back.”

He kept watching me play, his fingertips pressed into my thigh. Finally, he said, “Play me a song and I’ll sing to you.”

I had to think. I suddenly forgot every song I knew; I didn’t know any of his songs, other than Best Song Ever and I wasn’t terribly interested in hearing him sing it. “Do you know Bridge Over Troubled Water? Simon and Garfunkle? It’s my favorite song of all time.”

He nodded. I adjusted my hands on the keys and started playing. He stumbled over the first few lines, but then broke into this intoxicating, raspy tone; a sound so perfect for the song that it sent chills down my spine. I took my eyes off my fingers to watch him sing. There was something so…breathtaking? Sexual? I couldn’t even describe it to myself; something about the way his brow furrows and his lips pulled back from his teeth as he sang—like he was sucking his breath in through his teeth—Harry sang from his heart. It wasn’t just words; it was passion. It was a part of him. It came from his soul.

My fingers fumbled over a chord and I pulled my hands back from the keys. “Sorry…I…I just got caught up in listening to you.”

He stopped singing, his eyes locked on mine. There was an intensity to the way he looked at me; almost like the sizzle of lightening, palpable in the space between us. Reaching out, he pressed his hand to my cheek, sliding his long fingers back towards my ear, and cradled my face. “I…um…I’m falling in love with you.”

My breath caught in my throat. Here, on the piano bench; our bare thighs pressed together and his eyes wide, the green bright like colored stained glass windows, nothing else seemed to matter. Not the fact we were both completely naked or that my hair was probably sticking up all over the place from rolling in the sheets with him last night, my mascara now smeared into raccoon eyes. He looked like he’d just put himself out on the line, like he’d whispered this unspoken truth he’d never told anyone. This boy, this handsome man I basically knew nothing about other than how much my soul yearned for him; how his touch lit a fire in me like I’d never experienced before. He was like no one else I’d ever met in my life and I knew—knew—that this moment was going to change everything.

And I didn’t care.

“I’m in love with you too.” I murmured, turning my head and brushing my lips against his hand. “Completely.”

He smiled at me, a wide shining grin that deepened the dimples in his cheeks. And then he kissed me.

Notes

Side note: My dad's roommate in college had a four year degree in music and couldn't read music to save his life.

Second side note: Comments? Thoughts? Things you like/don't like?