The Maiden in Winter // Harry Styles Series #4

SEVENTEEN

He guided me through the house and into a small bedroom, not stopping until I sank down on a thick rug in the bathroom. Which was a very good plan because within moments I was being sick again. He left, coming back with a hair tie and a big glass of water.

I took a long, slow drink, then lay down on the floor, the cool tiles soothing beneath my cheek. As the nausea receded, the shame came creeping in.

"Go away."

"Not until I know you're alright."

"I'm fine. Go away."

"Can I bring you anything else?"

"My bag. Would you please get my bag?"

After he left, I picked myself up, splashed some cold water on my face, and rinsed my mouth. What a fucking disaster. I hadn't gotten puke drunk since the first night Ed and Lizzy took Bean after I moved home, when Andy and Lisha and I got shitfaced at the beach house and I watched the sunrise kneeling in the sand with my head over a trash can. How had I let this happen?

"Here you go."

"Thank you. Go away."

He knew better than to argue. "My room's at the end of the hall if you need anything."

"Ok."

I brushed my teeth and took a quick shower, pulling on the sweats I'd brought before curling up in one of the twin beds and falling into a restless sleep.

***

A rising breeze had blown the fog away in the night, and the air was clear and cold as I gathered my dress and underwear from alongside the pool at dawn. I left Harry a note on the kitchen counter and let myself out, closing the front door softly behind me.

I had a moment of panic as I approached the gate, not sure I could get out without a code, but there was a pedestrian door that opened from the inside. The walk over the little hill that was Maiden Island was quick, and five minutes after leaving Maiden Point I was at Andy's cottage, digging the spare key out of the flower box under the kitchen window.

The boys were both snoring softly, Bean taking up the bed, spread-eagled on his stomach, while Andy slept on the small sofa, curled on one side. I sat beside him in the crook of his knees and nudged him gently.

"Alex?" He sat up, looking adorably confused. "What are you doing here? What time is it? Are you ok?"

I motioned for him to follow me outside so we wouldn't wake Bean.

"I'm fine, just humiliated. I've just done a walk of shame at dawn from Harry Styles' house. That's all."

"Walk of shame? Did you have sex? Why was it shameful? How big is it?"

"Jesus, Andy, slow down. No, we didn't have sex. We did get naked in the pool. And we made out. And I'm pretty sure we were going to have sex. And then I puked."

"What? Seriously?" He began to laugh. Really loud.

"Shhhh... I'm not ready to face Bean." The laugh simmered down to a chuckle. "We had an aperitif, split a bottle of wine at dinner, had a glass of port with dessert, then split a bottle of champagne in the pool, and I got drunk, threw myself at him, and puked. End of story."

"Were you naked in the pool?"

"Yes. Does it matter?"

"Duh, yes. Was it big?"

"Jesus Christ, Andy."

"Why are you talking about Geejuss, Alex?"

Of course he was awake.