Chapter 37

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*not edited

Melanie

All day long thoughts of Harry, in a towel with water dripping from his chest invade my mind. Under all his clothes there is a tone chest with tattoos. I also can't stop thinking what's underneath the towel, and all the things I'd do/probably did with him before. I almost cut myself with the glass gawking at him this morning, but I honestly don't know if he even noticed.

I saw my mother afterwards and she constantly asked if I was alright. It was hard to think about anyone with her yapping at my ear. She also gave me my old diaries too. I used to journal daily, now it's only couple times a week. So, if I read them maybe I can learn more about Harry and I relationship. I found my college diaries and I even remembered some of the stories. But, when I mentioned Harry it mostly just sounded guilty for breaking his heart. However, my high school diaries will get me a closer look into my feelings and events of what happened between us, and why I fell in love with him. I was too scared to open them before the baby shower, so I just stuck them in my purse.

On the drive to the Kelly's house, I noticed a couple joggers. One in particular reminded me of Harry with a bright orange headband around his head. Thoughts of this morning, come back to me and my throat becomes dry again. During the baby shower, I tried my best not to think about Harry in that way.

It was fun to see Kelly and my old friends from school half of them are moms themselves now and had some good advice for her, which I'll keep in mind for my future children. Kelly insisted we get her either children books or gift cards instead of regular paper cards. I got her the classic Goodnight Moon as well as car seat and a sleep sound machine.

We played games like charades and guess the price. Kelly set up a mom-osa bar and I think I got a little carried away. I was tipsy for a good while and had to stay with Kelly until Nate gave me a ride home. Then a couple hours later the police officer asked me a couple questions about the accident. I only remember me being chased down an alley, and that the guy wore a ski mask. I know that's not enough information to track him down, so I hope I remember more soon before they give up on this case. Harry wants me to see his psychiatrist friend and hopefully she'll know how to get my memories back.

"We're here," Harry says pulling me from my thoughts and I look out the window at the small bar. Getting out the car, I adjust my dress. I'd be lying if I said I didn't notice Harry staring at me this morning. I was texting Kelly about the shower, but I saw him through my peripheral vision. He was clearly looking at my cleavage. I want to see if he'll do the same in the bar if I show him a little more. Smirking, I follow him into the bar. We find a small table close to the stage and Harry's eyes nearly bulge out of his skull when he sees how much more I'm exposed to him. Push up bras are honestly amazing.

"So, are you going to sing?" I ask him looking at the menu. The sliders sound tasty right now. I can feel Harry's eyes burning into my skin as I play with my necklace. His eyes follow my hands as I lightly graze my chest.

Harry coughs clearing his throat, "yeah, maybe. If you do it too?"

"Okay we should do it together then, I'd be less nervous," I tell him putting my hand over his. He seems surprised by my touch, but quickly composes himself and nods. Harry goes to get our drinks and food and I smile kind of liking how nervous he is around me. It puts me at ease since I'm so nervous around him all the time. I never know how to act or what to say around him. Teasing him seems to be the only thing I can do without making an ass of myself. I find him attractive and can see why'd I fall for him. He's a sweetheart, but it still doesn't make any of this easier.

I can tell he loves me and probably wants to rip this dress off me the ways he's been eyeing me, and a part of me wants him too. However, that wouldn't be fair to Harry, he should have me only when I feel the same way about him, and right now I don't.

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