𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋! | harry styles

𝐕𝐈𝐈

I sit the bowl full of hamburger mix on the kitchen table beside Cody. "You have to mix it really well, okay?"

He smiles almost manically, his hands hovering over the bowl. "With my hands?"

"Did you wash them like I asked?"

Cody nods furiously, holding his hands out for closer inspection. I know they're clean but check anyway—who knows what the kid's had his hands in. Satisfied, I gesture to the bowl of minced meat and onion. "Go on then."

He immediately digs his hands into the mix, giggling as it squishes between his fingers. It would have taken me two and a half seconds to mix it myself, but Cody loves to help, and it keeps his little hands out of mischief.

I've intentionally kept both of us busy in a vain attempt to stop myself from completely freaking out, but there's only so much cleaning that can be done in our tiny apartment.

I don't know which part of my sleep-deprived brain thought it was a good idea to invite Harry over for dinner, but as I glance at the clock for the eighteen thousandth time I'm becoming more certain that it was a really bad idea. I've contemplated canceling at least twice, but can't bring myself to do it. While part of me screams that inviting a stranger into my home is a bad idea, a louder, more insistent part of me craves the company of another adult.

And not just any adult—a Harry-shaped adult.

What's more frustrating is that up until I met him, I'd made the decision not to care about what people think of me and of my choices. My life hasn't been easy, and at times it's definitely not what others would have chosen for themselves, or for their children. But I do what I do to keep Cody safe and cared for, so to hell with what everyone else thinks of me. But for some stupid reason I'm worried about what Harry thinks. What will he see when he looks at my apartment? When he sees my well-used second hand furniture, and the walls that are water-stained beneath the peeling wallpaper? For so long I've been living in this little bubble I've created that the idea of letting someone in, of letting someone see inside, is terrifying.

There's also Cody to think about. He's had very little contact with men since his Dad, and although he seemed to be comfortable enough around Harry when they met, I have to be sure he's going to be okay with him in our home.

I watch his hands disappear and reappear into the mincemeat.

"Looking good, baby. Well done." He smiles, giving the mix one last poke with his finger. "So, you remember Harry from down the hall?" I ask.

He looks up. "With the pictures on his hands?"

I smile. "Yeah. He's going to come over for dinner tonight. What do you think?"

A thoughtful look crosses Cody's features. "Does Harry like hamburgers?"

"I'm not sure," I reply, trying to read Cody's reactions. "I guess we'll find out, won't we?"

Cody nods, looking serious. "I guess."

We shape the meat mix into patties ready for cooking.

"Does Harry go to school like me?" he asks.

"No. Adults don't go to school, remember?"

"Oh, yeah. I renember."

"Harry fixes cars."

"Cars like in the movie? Like Lightening?"

"Sort of, yeah."

He's quiet for a moment while I clean off his hands.

"Is his hand all better?" he asks. So many questions! But it can only be a good thing.

"I'm not sure," I reply. "You'll have to ask him when he comes over."