A Compelling Motive (h.s.)

thirty

I bite my lower lip, typing against my computer keys to make sure I have the first manuscript of the novel. My hand comes up to my face, rubbing and cupping my chin as I review the final email. When I receive word that I can pick it up, I make my way out of my house to my car.

The drive to the publisher is not all too long, and when I arrive, I type in my code to walk into the back. I shake hands with the publisher and he begins to search for the confidential manuscript I've written. It's a nerve-wracking occurrence that is about to take place, but I've never been so sure of it in my life.

"Do you know what comes along with this?" the publisher asks, and I nod.

"I want it to happen," I tell him, and he smiles with a nod.

"Of course, Mr. Styles," he says, handing over the manuscript. "Here is the first print and I will be in contact with you before the other copies print."

I shake his hand once more and take the manuscript back to my house. My nerves start to grow more but I know it's time. I'm finished with my work and it's time to finally share it.

When I pack up the box, I make sure the manuscript is in there. I leave it on my counter and make my way back to my car. Rhiannon is soon on my mind and I smile as I begin to drive to her house, knowing this is for the better.

My hand unlocks my apartment door, a smile coming over my face upon seeing my visitor. Harry is leaning against the door frame and he lifts up as soon as he takes in my appearance. He takes my hand and lifts it to his cheek, allowing me to take hold of his face. Without a word spoken, he leans down and places a kiss to my lips.

When he lifts his head, he smiles down at me and I brush my thumb over his dimple. The indent shows a cheeky side to him, while the rest of him practically exudes a sort of sex appeal.

"Ready?" he asks, kissing my forehead after. I nod, grabbing my bag and taking his hand. He snatches the keys out of my hand and locks my door himself. It makes me smile.

"What are you surprising me with?" I ask, eager to know what he meant by his prior text. All it told me was to be ready for a surprise tonight.

"If I told you, it wouldn't be a surprise," he grins, and my heart nearly leaps out of my chest. He is so beautiful and I'm so incredibly in awe at him. I think my feelings for him have developed to a point where everything I feel is pure and utter adoration.

He drives us through the woods to his house, my hand held in his tightly. Harry allows a smile to dance on his lips as he watches me, giddy with anticipation. My cheeks are flushed and my heart is racing, but I can tell he's just enjoying my presence.

"Rhiannon," he whispers, pulling me in front of him. I hold his hands and he looks down at me, my eyes enticed by his. "What I'm about to show you, I've never shown anyone before."

At his words, my mind flicker to his office. I'm not nervous, and by the looks, he doesn't seem nervous either. He's given me parts to his life that he hasn't shared with any before. He makes me know that he wants me here; he never leaves me with unanswered questions.

"It's my secret, and I'm asking you to keep it too," he whispers, my head nodding. He kisses my forehead and I look back up at him. By the way his features are portrayed, he wants verbal affirmation.

"I promise I'll keep your secret," I whisper, his lips moving up in the corner. I lean in closer. "All of your secrets."

We share one more kiss before walking upstairs and down the hall. He stops at the table in the hallway and retrieves the key, his tattooed hand holding it.

"Rhiannon, don't say a word when we walk in. Just take it in," he tells me, my eyes looking up at him. Suddenly I'm nervous. For all I know, there's a secret bigger than I can imagine in there. There could be a secret kid being housed in here, or maybe he's a murderer and his victim is being stored away.

"Darling," he says, cutting my thoughts short. I look at him, trying to ease my mind.

"Don't think too much," he whispers, and I take a deep breath. He unlocks the door, looking back at me. He reaches to grab my cheeks and he kisses my forehead once more, trying to ease my apparent nerves.

"Go on in."

And I do. My eyes take in the books stacked from the floor and up, the shelves covered with file folders and binders, and then the frames on the walls. As I take a look closer, I notice the words are describing my favorite book.

The books I've fallen so in love with is covering the office and I continue looking around. My stomach starts to build with nerves and realization and I continue to search for more answers.

The more I look, the more my mind attempts to wrap around everything I'm encountering. My eyes stop at a letter framed on the wall and I read over it, my lips parting.

Harry-

If you're going to write, at least use a pen name. Our name does not belong in the news more than it already has been because of you. Build yourself back up, son.

My hand runs through my hair, my eyes closing as I take it in. As I think about the name, the more it makes sense. Holden Shepherd has the same initials as Harry Styles. The hint was so simple, yet I was completely blind to it.

I spin around, looking at the multiple awards and books that have been signed. Harry is Holden Shepherd and all that is flooding my mind is shock.

The amount of times I've talked about those books, the time he's spent listening to me ramble about how in love I am with the words. He even listened to me read his own story to him; had him tell me the words sounded funny from my lips. Of course they did, because they're his.

When I feel as if my head may combust with the intake of information, I look over at him. He's leaning against the wall, watching me. I can tell he's fascinated by my discovery, but I can't get over how stupid I feel. I have openly been obsessed with him and obsessed with his work that he played it cool the entire time. Every woman on this earth has read these books, men too, but no one knows it's Harry.

I'm the only one.

He reaches a hand out to me, and I don't hesitate before I take it. I'm trembling and he's very aware of it, but he doesn't say anything. We have yet to share a word, but it's a very comfortable silence. I can tell he's allowing me time to process everything.

Harry takes me into his living room and allows me to take a seat, his body kneeling in front of me. His hands splay along my thighs and he looks up at me, my lips still parted but I have no words to say. I'm stunned.

"I'll be right back," he whispers, and I can barely manage a nod. He removes himself from the room and I take a deep breath, trying to calm myself down.

"This," I hear Harry say, my head tilting up to look at him. He's carrying a box and he sets it down. "This is for you."

I look into his eyes and all I see him do is smile. He knows I'm still incapable of words, so he just looks at me. He grabs my hands and kneels in front of me once more, this time only on one knee.

"You're the first one to read it, baby. It's all for you," he whispers, and my breathing seems to stop. My mind goes blank and he reaches up, grabbing the base of my neck. He runs his thumb against my lower lip.

"That's the last one. And I wrote it in the time that I've known you. I mean it, Rhiannon, when I say that. It's about you," he whispers softly, emotion laced in every word.

"Now, I'll be in my office. Take your time and read through it, baby. You have all day," he tells me, and I grab his face. A curve of his lips occurs before I press my forehead to his, trying to find any word that I can to give him something.

"I-I..." I try, but he just shakes his head. He smiles so brightly up at me.

"Darling, just read it. It's okay," he assures, and he lets me go. He kisses my knuckles and stands up, giving my hands a squeeze once more before leaning down.

"You know where I'll be," he whispers, kissing my forehead before leaving me alone to read Holden Shepherd's last book.

His last book.