The Maiden in Winter // Harry Styles Series #4

SEVEN

~H~

(email to Leigh)

No apology last night. Bean was with her. He called me Sir and liked my hair and hoodie. Today I walked into town, without George. It was so peaceful, and felt good being on my own. I found myself by their house – not on purpose – and there was Bean falling off his bike, banging up his knee. I didn't stay long. Going to see her again tonight, out for a pint at the local bar.

***

~A~

I dropped Bean at the Lowells' just after dinner, with a promise to pick him up no later than ten, then went home to get myself ready. But ready for what? Was this a date? No, no way. He wanted to get out of the house and thank me for being his seafood connection and not putting out an all-points bulletin that he was in town. That's all.

I chose my 'fancy' jeans and a dusty plum v-neck sweater, left my hair down, and added a little aubergine liner to make the green of my eyes pop, very purposefully making no more effort than for a normal night down at the Fluke.

Like my brother, I inherited our father's height as well as his eye color. At five foot nine and a bit, I stood taller than most of my friends, and almost eye to eye with Andy. Harry had about three inches on me, but I didn't think he'd mind if my favorite boots brought us even closer in height.

Like my mother, I'm lean but strong, just curvy enough not to be boyish. A woman who came in the store the summer I was fourteen told me I had 'coltish' legs. Mom, loving and supportive but never one to sugar coat things, said it meant they were long and knobby. Dad, always my biggest cheerleader, almost to a fault, said it meant I'd be able to make a living as a leg model in a few years.

I outgrew the knobby phase, but never really took the leg model thing seriously.

Harry probably knew actual leg models. Maybe I'd ask him.

So my height and long legs and unusual eye color may have stood out a bit, but otherwise I had always considered myself kind of plain.

I was surveying my plain self in the hall mirror when I heard a quick knock and Harry's smiling face appeared in the sidelight of the front door. Oh, great, I thought, he's going to think I was preening for the pop star.

"Hi Harry. Lisha's got things all set for us."

He led the way out to the car, where he opened the rear passenger door for me. I liked his gentlemanly manners. Closing it carefully once I was seated, he moved around to the other side and slid in beside me.

"Hi George." I smiled at the pair of dark eyes in the rear view mirror. "I assume I passed muster?"

He raised an eyebrow.

"The roses. Twenty eight. You knew my age." It wouldn't have been the first time someone's security had vetted me. There was that one summer I spent dating Eugenie's older brother Max...

Harry looked a little sheepish, but George just nodded before he spoke. "Two speeding tickets, cum laude degree in marketing from Northeastern University, mentioned in both parents' obituaries, my condolences, articles in local papers, as well as the Globe and Herald, about taking over the store at twenty-five. You're clean."

Damn.

"So, Harry," it was time to move on from my dossier, "are you ready for Janesport's wild nightlife?"

"I'm a bit nervous, to tell the truth. I haven't been out much at all since the tour ended. I'll need to leave if I'm recognized, but I'll understand if you want to stay."

"Hopefully that won't happen, but if it does I'll come with you. I've got a ten o'clock curfew."

"Really?"