Siren

Chapter Twenty-Nine

I WAKE UP TO AN EMPTY BED. I listen carefully, hoping to hear Harry moving about in the kitchen. It's early, the sun has barely risen and it's raining already. The bedroom door is open. No lights are on and before thinking about my actions, I'm walking through the flat completely naked.

The hardwood flooring makes no sound under my feet lg as I pad across the living room and into the kitchen. I look across the countertops to find no note, nothing out of place. The gold clutch from last night is still on the breakfast bar. I pull my phone out, hoping to find a message from Harry about his early morning disappearance. I have no notifications and the phone tells me it's only 3:51 am.

Where the hell could he have gone at such an early hour?

I pour myself a glass of water and walk into the living room, siping the ice cold drink. Light pours in through he floor to ceiling windows that make up the east wall of the flat. I walk across the living room, past the all black leather couches and lean against the cool of the glass. I can see the park just below us, the winding paths of green shrubbery and in the distance, Big Ben welcomes a new hour.

I find myself studying my naked reflection in the windows, my hands tracing over the skin that only a few hours ago was touched and kissed by Harry.

I could fall for you.

The statement still rings through my ears like alarm bells. I should have warned him. Warned him against me. He can't fall for me just like I can't fall for him. That's just not in the cards no matter how much I wish it was.

I wish that I could bring him on the bus with me and take him home to meet my mother. I wish that I could bring him into my childhood room and introduce him to who I was before my career became my soul focus. I would tell him that I was a dancer as a child. How I stopped only because I didn't like the dance my instructor had created for us when I was only 7. I would tell him that my mother allowed me to quit and sat for hours on end, watching me practice by myself and create my own routines.

I wish that I could tell him I have never had a relationship. Never told a man that I loved him. He would ask why and I would be able to tell the truth, I never wanted someone to walk in and alter my plan. Sure there was a guy in high school and a few flings throughout my university years, but I never tied myself down.

And maybe he'd tell me why he was pictured with so many women, many whose age nearly doubled his own. Maybe he'd tell me that it was all fun and games until he spent time with me.

"Noah?" I look up to find someone else has joined my reflection. Harry is standing behind me, closing the door to the flat behind him. His hair is pulled into a ponytail and his gray long sleeved shirt soaked through. He's mouth watering.

"Why are you awake?" He asks as he steps further into the flat. I watch, completely in awe as he places his keys on the coffee table and discards his shirt moments later. His toned abs are gleaming under the layer of sweat. He pulls his hair out of the band and shakes his head.

"I woke up alone," I finally find the words. I can't look away from his bare torso. The ink staining his skin seems to move as the London lights behind me dance across his chest.

"Where were you?" I ask.

"I couldn't sleep," he leans against the arm rest on the sofa and reaches a hand towards me.  I give him my hand and he pulls me to him.  I stumble but catch myself, my hands on his bare shoulders. I should pull away from his wet body but I find myself drawn to him even more. He should smell but I'm not repulsed. Instead, I'm leaning in to breathe him in, he is a drug I never knew existed.

"Where did you go?" I ask, trying to keep myself concentrated on the conversation even as his hands begin roaming over my body.

"For a jog," he replies. He leans in and presses his lips against my collar. Against my shoulder. Against my breast.

"At 3 in the morning?"

"Yes," he says and his voice vibrates against my skin.  My head rolls back on my shoulders as he flicks his tongue over my hardened nipple. 

"Do you want to talk?" I stumble over my words as I try to question him further. What could possibly keep him up after the two hours we had?

"No." He states as his tongue trails down the center of my body. And suddenly, what is keeping him up at night doesn't seem so important.