I woke up the next morning to unfamiliar arms wrapped around my waist and a strange buzzing in my ear. The events of last night rushed back into my mind—I was in bed with Niall. I immediately sat up. This was bad.

“Ghgmm. What time is it?” Niall mumbled, his head pushed into the pillow.

“I have stuff to do today, so you should probably be heading out.” I scurried out of bed and threw on my favorite floral silk robe. An immense headache appeared at my quick movements, my vision got blurry and I felt like my head was going to fall off from dizziness.

I looked around my room, the early morning sun was streaming through the skylights and white curtains; sweaters, bras and broken sandals were strewn about and a stack of old books lay to rest on my sofa chair. I was suddenly very aware of the need to clean my room.

“You don’t want to come back to bed? It’s really warm in here.” Niall said with a smile. He was sat up on his elbows, my quilted comforter raising up to expose his pale, shirtless form.

“Sounds inviting but I really do have a lot of stuff to do. Here are your pants.” I threw his jeans at him and left the room. I felt mildly bad for being so cold to him, but a hot cup of tea and some Advil was the only thing on my mind.

I walked into the kitchen, not expecting anyone to be awake this early in the morning. But, to my surprise, Harry was standing over the stove with a spatula in hand.

“Good morning.” I said quietly, apprehensive for some reason. He whipped around, clearly unaware of another human presence.

“Belle. You’re up early” His rough morning voice was undeniably sexy, and I almost forgot to reply.

“Mmhmm. Zoe still asleep?” I asked.

“No, she didn’t sleep over.” He said, quickly going back to his eggs.

“Oh. How come?”

“She had to go to work in the morning.”

“Oh.”

We were silent for a moment. He continued to cook his eggs, shirtless of course. And I watched my water boil, wondering if this weird energy between us was going to continue.

“So do you have any plans for today?” he asked.

“No, just errands and stuff. Orientation starts on Wednesday, you know.” We’re both in our junior year of college at UC Los Angeles. And now that the summer is unfortunately coming to an end, we both have to go back to school. Campus isn’t far from Norbert so it’s quite convenient.

“Yeah, yeah. Decided on a major yet?” He looked up at me. This was the first time we’d actually made eye contact this morning and his face was laced with giddiness. I am notorious for being indecisive, so of course choosing a life-changing curriculum is difficult for me. And of course, Harry just loves to tease me for it.

“No, still stuck between, creative writing, Italian studies, marine biology, and studio art. I’ve been thinking about political science too.”

He laughed out loud. “Of course you are. Leave it to Bella to decide between five completely different majors. You never surprise me.”

As if on cue, Niall trudged into the kitchen. His shirt was both backwards and inside out and his jeans were unbuttoned. I will take a little of the blame for his half hazardness, I did force him to get up at 6:30.

“Niall! Erm, hey man! You look like death.” Harry said, rather loudly.

“I feel like it too. Long night, eh Bella?” he said as wrapped an arm around my shoulder. This conversation could really not get any more awkward.

“Yup. See ya Niall.” I said, discreetly nudging myself out of his grip. Something about the morning after a one-night stand makes me utterly despise the guy I did it with. I guess I get a “been there, done that” superiority complex. It’s definitely something I should work on.

“Peace!” Niall yelled as he walked out the door, clearly oblivious to my lack of interest in him.

The door shut behind him and the room was immediately filled with silence, a silence that was out of character for our usually bustling loft.

“So I—”

“You had sex with Niall?” Harry stated, an unreadable tone in his voice.

“I—Harry didn’t we make a pact that we would never discuss our sex lives with each other?” I said, my heart picking up speed. We had made that pact in high school when we decided that it was too weird for us to talk about with each other. I guess those are the consequences of having a boy-girl friendship.

“But you and Niall, really, Belle? I mean I know you get around but—”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” I said, putting my hands on my hips.

“Oh don’t make me explain it. It’ s not like you’ve never had guys here.” He replied, nervously digging his hands into his sweatpants pockets.

“What, and you don’t have girls here every weekend? What’s the big deal if I have Niall in my room, or any guy ever?” I felt myself getting angrier with him. Who did he think he was?

“I’m just saying that Niall brings girls home like, every other day. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“Get hurt? Oh, give me a fucking break, I’m 20 years old I can take care of myself. Quit acting like my older brother, Harry. Its 2015 women can have sex however much they want. Save it for your girlfriend.” I heard him say something under his breath as I walked away but I didn’t care to hear what it was. “I’ll get myself to work you don’t have to worry out me. I might be home for dinner.”

I stormed up to my room, not remotely caring if I had over reacted—he was being a dick and I didn’t feel like being near him. Something had changed since he had gotten home from England, and I don’t know what brought it on but something is different between us.

In a classic me way of avoiding confrontation, I got ready for work, despite having an hour and a half before I had to leave. I walked over to my closet and grabbed my best grey pencil skirt that hugged my hips perfectly and lands just below my knees. Next, I chose my I-Am-a-Sexy-Businesswoman silk, white blouse that dipped rather low in the front, but I didn’t really care—I was feeling empowered. I slipped on my favorite heels—black Louboutin’s that I had splurged on a couple years ago. I quickly did my makeup and threw my hair up into a ponytail and looked in the mirror. Satisfied, I walked down the stairs to the kitchen to make breakfast, hoping that Harry had gone back to his room.

I came downstairs to find the kitchen empty but the couch area occupied by Harry. I ignored his presence and grabbed fruit from the fridge. Since our apartment was a loft, everything could be seen from every area of any point of the house—besides Harry’s room. My room was the loft upstairs that had a balcony overlooking the downstairs living area and kitchen. And the lack of walls between the two allowed for sight access all the way around. Harry’s room was the door next to the stairs and was the only actual secluded room besides the bathrooms. So, unfortunately, it was nearly impossible for us to make eye contact while in the downstairs—the kitchen counter literally faced the couch.

I began chopping strawberries, willing myself not to look up at Harry. I eventually gave in for a peek, only to see him not looking at my face, but my body. His eyes were darting up and down and I felt a blush rise to my face—was he checking me out?

I pushed the ridiculous thought from my head and dumped my fruit into the blender. The loud noise seemed to jolt Harry up and he hopped onto his feet and walked into the kitchen. I walked over to the cabinet to grab a glass, still trying my best to act mad at him. I turned around as Harry reached up to grab a glass too. I jumped at his closeness; I hadn’t realized he was behind me.

“Sorry,” I said quietly. His arm was resting on the cabinet and my breath caught in my throat as I caught a whiff of his smell—that same old peppermint and coffee that was amplified a thousand times more than it usually was. I looked up at him, suddenly very aware of the proximity of our faces. Our eyes met and his held something I had rarely ever seen, something I didn’t recognize. I saw his eye line dip somewhere else on my face but it was too fast to say where.

“Don’t worry about it.” He said as he took a glass from the cabinet. He walked to the sink to fill his up the cup and I stayed where I was, leaning against the counter. He put the glass to his lips and I felt like I was in a trance as I watched him ab muscles flex and unflex, and his throat bob up and down. His v-line was even more defined than usual.

He placed the glass on the counter and looked at me again. I felt turned on; I wasn’t going to deny it now. It didn’t feel like this was Harry my best friend, this just felt like there was a hot guy in my kitchen who had the outline of something big showing through his thin sweatpants.

“Harry,” I said shakily.

“Belle,” He said, slowly walking back over to my place by the counter. His voice was deep and still a bit hoarse.

He stood above me, just as close as we had been before. My body was craving his, something I had never felt before last night for him. I looked up at him, lust overcoming me. I don’t know what had come over me, but something about the look in his eyes had taken me over the edge. I took his hands and slowly placed them on my breasts. I hadn’t put a bra on this morning; the low hem of my shirt would have shown it too much. My nipples were hard and I felt endlessly turned on—nothing else mattered. I rubbed his hands on me, a groan escaping his mouth.

“Belle,” he said again.

“Shh,” I put my finger to his lips and hopped on the counter. I wrapped my legs around his waist and pulled him closer to me. I ran my fingers through his hair and he moaned again. “I want this.” I whispered.

My words seemed to trigger something in him and he ignited. He put one hand on my cheek and the other on my neck and kissed me.

It was a kiss that didn’t feel a kiss. It was explosive and dizzying. His lips felt like they had been waiting to touch mine for a lifetime and the few seconds they had been together felt like forever. I looked into his eyes and instantly knew that everything had changed.

Notes

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