Hoax

Chapter twenty-two

Estelle Adler 

It's Friday morning.

How has Friday come around so fast?

The day I was looking forward to, has quickly become a day to dread.

I was looking forward to escaping the city and travelling North, to Vegas; spending a weekend celebrating Lucy and Daniel, whilst glugging numerous bottles of Rosé...

Now, all my hopes and dreams have been crushed by the thought of Harry being by my side throughout the whole thing.

I'll wake up – he'll be there.

I'll go to lunch – he'll be there.

I'll be drunkenly dancing around the function floor – he'll be there.

This is going to be one LONGGGG weekend...and he's not even arrived yet.

I'm currently pacing my foyer, waiting for Harry to pull up to my gate. 

I guess I'm pacing around like a mad woman because I have no idea how to act around him anymore.

I've not seen him since he was attacking my neck with his soft lips, on my kitchen table, so I feel totally uncomfortable about seeing him again.

I feel as though both of us showed each other at least a tiny bit of vulnerability in those moments; allowing our sexual pleasure to drive us closer together, both physically and metaphorically.

I can't believe he's officially heard my moans of approval...Jesus, I'm so embarrassed...

Every time I reminisce about the other day, I want to crawl into a dark corner and never return to the light of day.

In my opinion, the best thing we can do is forget it ever happened.

It was a momentary relapse.

I mean, Harry is very attractive – I'd have to be an idiot not to realise that – but his asshole persona totally outweighs any sexual attraction I have for him.

Therefore, that's why I label the other day as a 'momentary relapse'.

A relapse that I won't let happen again...

I check my phone – the clock reading: 10:02am.

Maybe he's chickened out...

DING-DONG.

I check my security footage...Harry's at my gate, in his big, black four-by-four.

I allow him access.

I have no idea how or why Harry has agreed to this whole wedding thing.

It's crazy to me.

The fact he's actually here and ready to spend a weekend with me.

I don't know how Simon did it.

My doorbell rings and I, rather too quickly, open my door.

Harry stands before me, wearing a plain white tee, black pants and a pair of sunglasses rest on his nose.

"Nice shirt" I state, before even greeting him.

"It's literally a plain white shirt" He states in his familiar monotone voice.

"Yeah, but it makes a nice change from all the black" I respond, shooting him a sarcastic smile.

Harry brings his right hand up and pulls off his glasses as he walks into my house.

I notice he roll his eyes and shake his head; though I'm unable to shake the feeling that a small smirk rested on his lips as he passed me.

"We'll be back Sunday, you know?" Harry says and I turn around, to realise he's taking in my mound of luggage at the bottom of the stairs.