Chapter 15 - I Like It

Kelsey’s POV:


          We had just gotten back to London yesterday, and the boys finally had some time off. Well, except for the fact that they had a couple of interviews and shoots here and there. Right now I was at the apartment by myself, and was currently packing my bags.

          I guess I finally had decided that I was going to go Miami, but only for a week. I had told Harry, and he said as long as I was comfortable in going, and even bought my plane tickets – even though I had told him there was no need to do so. That boy was way too sweet for his own good.

          When I had told Logan about me coming, he was extremely happy. I was leaving tomorrow, and I was pretty damn sure that jet lag is going to hit me like a truck when I get to Miami.

          As I packed my shoes in my suitcase, I looked at the clock and noticed that boys would be back soon from wherever they went. Since I was wearing skinny jeans, I felt uncomfortable so I quickly changed into something more comfortable. I put on a pair of short denim shorts, leaving on the shirt I was wearing.

          Feeling a bit hungry, I put a pause on my packing and went down to the kitchen. Deciding to make myself a turkey sandwich, I took out the turkey from the fridge and the mayonnaise and lettuce. Looking around for the bread, I saw that it was on the top of the fridge.

          “Great,” I muttered, closing the door of the fridge. Standing on my tippy toes, I reached my hand up to try and grab the bag of bread but of course, I was too short.

          I was about to give up when suddenly an arm from behind me reached up and grabbed the bag. My eyes widened at the sudden appearance of someone, and I suddenly turned around, looking up to see Harry looking down at me amusedly. “Bread?” he smirks, holding out the bag.

          I bite my bottom lip as I take the bag in both my hands. “Thanks,” I murmur.

          Neither of us moved. Harry and I stood staring at each other, my back pressed up against the fridge as I look at him. “So, uh, did you finish packing?” he asks, still standing right in front of me.

          “Almost,” I reply quietly. Where the hell did my voice go?

          I found myself staring at his lips; pink and full, looking soft as ever. I swallowed the lump in my throat – why the hell was I staring at Harry’s lips? Looking back at Harry’s eyes, I saw that he was already looking at me and a hot blush crept on my cheeks as I looked down, my hair falling to cover my face.

          “You know,” Harry’s raspy voice spoke and I glanced up at him, “you’re cute when you blush.”

          That, of course, caused the blush in my cheeks to deepen and I felt Harry’s hand cup my left cheek, tilting my head up. The two of us were extremely close to each other, barely any space separating us. The only thing that provided the tiny amount of space was the bread packet I was holding in front of me.

          Suddenly, I was aware that Harry was leaning in. Inside, my heart was beating rapidly, and I was positive that Harry could most likely hear it. It was like slow motion how Harry’s lips parted before cupping my face in both hands. Why wasn’t I stopping him? Am I going to let him kiss him? Do I want to kiss him?   

          Because you like him and you don’t want to admit it. And yes, you’re going to let him kiss you and yes, you want him to kiss you.

          The voice in my head soon drifted away when I felt a pair of unfamiliar yet warm and soft lips on top of my own. Harry’s eyes drifted shut and mine did as well, the bread packet dropping from my hands on the floor with a plopping sound.

          My lips move with Harry’s slowly as I began kissing him back, a warm feeling shock waving through my body. Harry’s hands were still cupping my face as he kissed me, his tongue flicking across my bottom lip. I parted my lips, granting him entrance as my hands went to either side of his neck as Harry pressed his weight on me, pressing me against the fridge as he tilted his head to the side to get better access.

          The kiss itself was slow and steady, a perfect first kiss, in my opinion. I felt the pads of Harry’s thumbs brushing over my cheeks, before he slowly pulled away. Slowly, my eyes opened as Harry’s forehead pressed against mine, and I saw his eyes were still closed.

          He then opened them, his bright green eyes meeting my blue ones. “You should finish packing,” he whispered against my lips. “I’ll make you your sandwich.”

          I bit my bottom lip as I tried to keep myself from smiling as Harry bent down and picked up the pack of bread I had dropped and went over to where I left the lettuce and mayonnaise.

          Running a hand through my hair, I walked out of the kitchen and up the stairs back into the bedroom where my suitcase was popped open. Picking up a bunch of shirts, I folded them and started putting them in, my mind foggy.

          That kiss was unbelievable. It was, in reality, the most perfect kiss I’ve ever shared with a guy. It was soft and gentle and careful, as if Harry was hesitant to kiss me but wanted to do it anyway. Just thinking about the kiss brought a smile to my face.

          Jesus, what was happening to me?

          My eyes trailed over to my left hand as I pushed my shoes inside the suitcase. The silver diamond ring sparkled on my left ring finger as I examined it, tugging my lower lip into my mouth.

          As I packed in a pair of my shorts, Harry walked through the door, a plate in hand that contained my turkey sandwich cut into half. I smiled as I stood up, taking the plate from his hand. “Thanks,” I say.

          “No problem,” Harry replies, a smile forming on his own face as he sits on the edge of the bed, leaning back on the palms of his hands as I sit on the floor with my legs crossed.

          Picking up one half of the sandwich, I took a bite out of it and hummed in satisfaction; the sandwich was good. As I ate, I asked Harry, “What time’s my flight tomorrow?”

          “Eleven-fifteen in the morning,” he replied, running a hand through his brown hair. I nodded as I took another bite, and then hold my palate out to him.

          “Want the other half?” I offer.

          He smiles before reaching for it and taking a bite out of it. The two of us sat and ate our halves of the sandwiches, making up conversation about weird and normal things at the same time.

          When we were done eating, I finished off my packing and shut my suitcase, zipping it in finality. I sighed, standing up straight as my hands bury themselves in the back pockets of my shorts. “You ready to go back?” Harry asks, looking up at me from his sitting position on the bed.

          I shrug, my hands still in my pockets as I purse my lips. “I guess so,” I say. “I’m gonna have to go back at one point.”

          Harry nods. “I’m sure Logan’s excited to see you.”

          There it is; the same bitterness in his voice when he talks about Logan is present just as it is in Logan’s voice when he mentions Harry. What the heck is it with these two boys?

          “Do you two not like each other?” I ask, furrowing my eyebrows as I take a step closer to Harry.

          Harry shrugged as he sat up properly. “I have the feeling that your friend isn’t exactly fond of me,” he tells me in his low British accent. “And I think the feeling’s mutual.”

          I sighed as my hands leave my pockets and my arms cross over my chest. “Oh, come on,” I say. “I’m sure Logan doesn’t dislike you.”

          “I’m sure Logan doesn’t like me,” Harry retorts with a look.

          I huff. “I don’t like the fact that my best friend and my –”

          I cut myself off, pressing my lips together. Harry’s eyebrows shoot up in a questioning look as he looks at me. My what? Husband? That’s way too weird to say. I guess I still wasn’t used to the fact that I was actually married to this dude.

          “Your what?” Apparently Harry had the same question in his mind as he stood up, walking over to me. “Come on, Kelsey, say it,” he added with a teasing smirk on his lips.

          The tip of my tongue pressed against the back of my teeth as I smiled at him disbelievingly, staring up at him. He was still smirking, challenging me to say the word. Rolling my blue eyes, I shake my head and say, “My husband.”

          Harry walked closer to me, his smirk widening as his arms resting on my shoulders, his hands linking on the back of my head. “Now, was that so hard to say?” he pouted, cocking his head to the side as he stared at me with wide green eyes.

          “You’re very annoying,” I comment as I look up at him.

          Harry’s smirk turns into a dimpled grin. “I know,” he says, before leaning down and pressing his lips to mine.


          I don’t know what the hell was going on, but I liked it.