Genevieve and Harry have the perfect life together. Until Harry gets the opportunity of a lifetime to tour around the world. Without any warning, he ups and leaves his life behind. After three years, he's ready to come home. What happens when he fin...
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It's been a week since Harry kissed me.
A week of awkwardness.
A week full of stolen glances.
There's this weird tension between the two of us, unsure of where we stand, unsure of what happens next.
We haven't had a real, normal conversation outside of talking about what he and Phoebe did that day while I was at work.
I think he's keeping his distance from me.
I know he's trying not to pressure me and I appreciate that.
I think he thinks I'm upset over him kissing me.
When that's just not the case at all.
I'm not unhappy that the kiss happened.
Not at all actually, and that's what upsets me.
I hate that when Charlie kissed me, all I could think about was "this is not what it used to feel like."
And I hate that when Harry kissed me, I didn't think at all.
Not one bit of me felt uncomfortable, it felt so right.
I'm upset about the fact that he gave me a reason to ever question those feelings in the first place.
I'm upset that he still makes me feel so good, even when I try so hard to ignore these feelings.
It's like I belonged right there in his arms all along.
"Momma! Harry's here!" Phoebe runs into the kitchen. "His car is outside, Momma. My best friend is here!" She jumps up and down and runs back into the living room.
She moves the curtain out of her way and looks for him out the window.
Walking up behind her, I see him closing his car door shut and walking up the icy driveway.
