Friends With Benefits

Chapter 23

Harry's POV

I traced her face with my tired eyes. Every line and spot, every slight flaw in her skin. The way her delicate eyelashes lay downwards, the smooth, bluish skin of her closed lids. Fast asleep. She was beautiful, my princess. The mother of my baby.

I lay silently in the early morning light of my Italian hotel room. The curtains were cracked open a little, letting the intense mid-July sunshine stream in. My thoughts were running away from me, as they usually did every time I got a moment's peace to think straight these days. I had more things to ponder lately than I'd ever had before in my whole life. I thought about the future, mostly. And how it scared me a little bit. In five months time I'd be a father; I would have a child who would look up to me, depend on me for everything it needed. I'd have Tamara, of course, but things would change so drastically, everything. I was still uncertain of how I would juggle the band's busy schedule, travelling all around the world, recording, promoting, as well as having time to get to know my baby. I promised myself I would never be one of those dads who was never around, who was simply a person the child heard about through others reports. I didn't want it to be a novelty when I was actually there to play with my own kid. I'd already organised a few weeks off with the management people around the time of the birth to settle everything down and get used to the little one. But what after that? My gaze still flickered over Tammy's face - I didn't want to leave her with all the work of raising a child. What sort of person would that make me?

I started as the girl next to me stirred, rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand. My muscles relaxed again when I realised she'd simply woken up, a smile tugging on my lips as she rolled over to face me, bright blue eyes engulfing me. She looked like a little panda, eyes smudged and dirty with unwashed mascara. I pressed a light kiss to her chapped lips, feeling the warmth of her skin against mine beneath the covers as she pulled my body into hers. She let my kiss linger, her cold nose brushing mine. My fingers skimmed the undeniable curve of her tummy.

"Morning," I said brightly, having been awake a good hour or so and choosing to spend my sleeplessness with my eyes attached to her face. It was far too hot here in Milan for me to sleep soundly. Tamara had flown in the night before, the velvety darkness disguising her arrival from the curious public and paparazzi. It was daylight now though, and we couldn't stay inside all day. I had some radio interviews to do, a magazine shoot. We couldn't hide away together forever.

"Harry," she replied awkwardly through a small yawn, pulling the duvet up over her nose so just her eyes peered out adorably above. I pecked her forehead lovingly, holding her against my chest. "How's my beautiful girl today?" I murmured, watching her face come up to meet mine, lips dodging mine to nuzzle my neck. "Tired. Hungry. Barely slept. I don't want to leave this bed..."

I chuckled at her cute frown. She was so lovable, so comforting. I was so happy to have her back in my arms. It had been a lonely two weeks without her, in the physical and emotional sense of the word. The relief at knowing that we were fine was immense after our fight, the ease I felt when she played and teased me with her sharp wit, when she kissed me and let me hold her, let me drive her into body ecstasy. It was harder when we were apart. We'd need to find a way through that particular problem.

I kissed her again, lips lingering and relishing in the feeling of being together. My hands found her 14 week bump just in time to feel the tiny nudges of my baby's feet.

"Wow," I whispered with a grin, completely awestruck.

Tamara was unfazed. "He does that a lot. I wish he could sit still."

I was about to tell her that he was just like his mother when the hotel room phone began to chime. I groaned, tearing my gaze and hands from my girlfriend to lift the receiver. It was Paul ordering me to come to breakfast immediately; I was already behind schedule. I hung up and ignored his instructions, spending another few minutes smothering Tamara's body protectively with mine, mouths moving passionately against each other. It was a sweet reunion. When we'd gotten dressed and jogged down to breakfast, the boys were all in the process of gobbling up their continentals, shovelling cereal and yoghurt into constantly starving mouths. I queued with Tamara, selecting our foods, my hand brushing hers accidentally on purpose on several occasions.