And They Told Me I Couldn't Act

TAKE 16

IT'S MY FIRST night sleeping in Harry's house and naturally, I'm not supposed to be thinking about the fact that Harry Wolfe is not a virgin. Yes, he's my fake-boyfriend which means that everything between us, should be, and is, well, an act. So I definitely shouldn't be tossing and turning thinking about who Harry Wolfe might have done it with.

Truth was, I don't know who Harry's exes are. Since he's risen in the limelight, there's been no mention of his ex-relationships.

Feeling a bit frustrated, I got off the bed and headed downstairs. I am prying. I look at every bit of the walls as I make my way downstairs. I stop by the kitchen and get a glass of milk before heading to watch a show on his TV.

I need to get my mind off of it.

I don't like Harry Wolfe that way anyway. I'm just here to help diffuse the ice so we can take one good Instagram picture.

I'm watching The Bachelor. Harry Wolfe has almost every episode ready to be watched. I'm still watching when I hear a soft melodious voice ask, "Can you turn the volume down?"

I flush, "Yeah, of course."

I expect Harry Wolfe to head back to his room. He looks cute in an oversized shirt and shorts but he doesn't. He stands in the living room a bit more. Then, like an elephant squeezing in a needle, he decides to sit down on the same couch I'm on.

I hate that my heart skips a beat.

His presence is like a bit of sugar in hot water, one little spin and the bit of sugar is gone, never to be seen again but its presence lingers in the water.

I'm scared to stir the water.

The fear makes it difficult for me to breathe or even look at him, so I try to fixate on the television. I know I want him to thaw, I want it to be easier between us but now that he's sitting on the same sofa with me, I find myself a bit at a loss.

I keep my eyes on the television because it's the safest course of action that I can think of.

It's two minutes or three of us watching when Harry Wolfe asks, "What did you think of my - Holly?"

His voice is soft but because I'm on alert I hear it clearly despite the rumblings of the show. I shrug lightly, "I like her. I wish she was my mother."

I'm not even paying attention to the screen, I keep glancing at Harry Wolfe from the corner of my eye. He doesn't look like the type to watch The Bachelor. "She likes you too," Harry Wolfe says, "she's never really liked any of my girlfriends before."

I might have sounded a little too excited, like a child with the last chocolate chip cookie when I asked, "How many girlfriends have you had?"

Harry Wolfe hears the eagerness in the question because those green eyes are on me. He looks like he's deciding if he should tell me. I'm all ready to give up that smidgen of hope when he answers, "I've had two. But I'm not sure if you can count the first one."

"Why not?"

"We dated from 15 till 18, but it wasn't like intense or anything."

"Why'd you break up?" I ask.

"The usual, distance, graduation, that sort of thing." Harry Wolfe glances at the television. "What about you, who was your first?"

I flush, a little nervous. "I've only got one, but I don't think you'd even count it as one."

The TV continues in silence. I don't look at him for a bit, embarrassed and a bit shy. When I peek at him, I flush a bit deeper since his eyes are expectantly waiting on me. His brow raises slightly as though suggesting I continue.

"It was back in New York, we dated for three years. For me, it was intense for him..." my voice trails off. "Let's just say that he was more interested in my sister."

"Yikes," Harry Wolfe replies.

"It's not like I haven't gone out on dates since then," I say defensively. "I have."

"Of course, you're not going to let one idiot ruin relationships for you."

"Precisely."

He smiles. It's soft and illuminated barely by the lights of the Bachelor. He's handsome. I wish I didn't find him handsome. I wish I could stop admiring those green eyes of his, those lips that have kissed at least two girls, and one he might have slept with...

"What about your second girlfriend."

He flinches, "You'll know this one."

I grin, I close the space between us, "Then you've got to tell me."

Harry Wolfe shrugs, "There's nothing in the contract that says I should."

I'm close enough to poke him, "No, I told you mine! It's your turn."

"Your ex isn't a celebrity," Harry Wolfe says.

"All the more reason I should know about her," I poke him again, trying not to think about how strong his arms are, "who is she? what if I run into her?"

"You won't run into her," Harry Wolfe dismisses. I'm glad he's not moving away. I'm so glad that I poked him again. He doesn't move away. "Fine, it's Sarah Barbella."

"The American Idol Runner Up?" I respond, my eyes widening.

"Yes her," He says mildly amused, "We dated during the show, it was only six months."

"What happened?" I ask.

The amused smile drops, this was a relationship that might have hurt him a little, "After I won, well things didn't feel the same between us. That spark or whatever, it was gone. I was busy recording my first album and going on the Idol tour while she was trying to get her first album out."

I won't pry further, the same way I'm glad he doesn't. We're sitting closer now that I can feel a bit of his body heat. His leg brushes mine on the sofa... and he doesn't move it away. His eyes are back on the Television, and it's a soft moment that I don't want to ruin so I glance at the television too.

It's when the credits begin to roll that he moves to stand up, stretches, and then glances at me, "I didn't know you had a sister," he says softly. "Were you close?"

"No," I reply, cringing because I realize my error, in the dark illuminated by the television, I'd accidentally admitted that I've got a sister and I can see that my response, my reluctance seems to interest him more.

"Is she younger?"

"Older," I turn off the television, and we're covered in silence for a minute. Before he can ask any more questions, I'm manoeuvring out of the room. "I'll see you, Harry."

As I bury myself beneath blankets, I pray that Harry would forget I had a sister.