Common Knowledge

Chapter 24

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Twenty-four

I stood there frozen, unsure as what to do next.

I mean, I knew what to do of course.

Get away from there quickly. Immediately. Right away.

The only question was to either tiptoe and be as quiet as possible to avoid waking up Anna and Gemma; or, throw all caution to the wind and run away as fast as my legs would carry me.

Harry decided for me.

He covered my mouth with his hand and touched his free index finger to his lips to indicate silence. I nodded in agreement.

He then proceeded to take my hand and pull me along him, taking small, silent steps out of the room.

It seemed he was some kind of expert at sneaking out of bedrooms undetected. Gemma and Anna didn't even stir. I think I saw Gemma opening her eyes and closing them again. But I couldn't be sure, it was all done in a second.

Back to the hallway we went.

Back to my bedroom we went.

This time I didn't make my way down the hallway snuggling happily in Harry's arms and drowning myself in his kisses. It was a subdued walk.

"I'm so sorry, Bliss," Harry said, closing the door to my room behind him.

"Don't apologize, Harry," I replied, "you did nothing wrong. You couldn't possibly have known your mum and sister would be asleep in your bed."

"But I could have known. It's happened before," he told me, "I should have foreseen it, and prepared accordingly."

"Prepared?" I asked. What was he going on about?

"Yeah, it's happened before," he repeated himself, pressing his lips together and running his thumb across his mouth.

"What's happened before?" I asked, alarmed.

Surely, he was referring to the hundreds, no scratch that, thousands of sexual encounters he'd had before.

Maybe this was a blessing in disguise, I said to myself philosophically, his mum and sister on his bed were angels of a sort, saving me from the worst humiliation of my life.

I had just been about to have sex with Harry Styles, whose mattress had been graced by some of the most beautiful women who ever walked the earth.

There was absolutely no way I could compare.

In all likelihood, his prior sexual activities hadn't been limited only to the bed. So these goddesses had no only graced his mattress, but his bathtub, his rugs, his sofas, his kitchen counters. "Enough," said self-preservation inside my overactive brain, "stop thinking that way or you'll go insane. Just listen to what he's saying."

"Mum suffers from migraines," he explained, "and air travel, especially long-haul flights are a trigger. But she's in the denial about that and refuses to pack her tablets. So, when she gets here and the headache hits, she raids my medicine cabinet."

"Oh, poor Anne," I told him, "but what could you possibly have done about it? It's not like you could have prevented the migraine, is it?

"True," he admitted, "but her migraines have gotten worse since she lost Robyn. I should have remembered and left some medicine in her room."