Notorious

Suspicious

Sus·pi·cious/adjective: causing one to have the idea or impression that something or someone is of questionable, dishonest, or dangerous character or condition.

Over the next few days I analyze every move Harry makes; every phone call he answers, every time his phone dings with a new message, every one he talks to and what he says, every time he looks at me like he has a secret.

I nit-pick every little move he makes; every kiss placed on my lips, every word whispered in my ear, even every sip of tea he drinks.

Every action seems like some kind of hint and my brain is screaming fool fool fool.

I don't know if I'm just paranoid because I had been betrayed before or if there is something I should be worried about. My heart is telling me to trust Harry –to give him the benefit of the doubt like he has asked, but my brain has me second guessing every move he makes.

Part of this irrationality stems from the fact that I have no substantial hold on him –we aren't really together, we haven't established or labelled everything, so even if he was seeing another girl, would I even have the right to be mad?

Yes.

No.

Yes.

Ugh.

I don't know much, but I do know that there is something he's not telling me.

"Would you like some binoculars to make your stalking of Harry easier?"

Avery's amused words shock me from my unwavering observation and I feign innocence when I turn to face her, "I'm not stalking anyone."

"You so are."

"Am not."

"So are."

"Am not," I almost shout, annoyed and frustrated at this entire thing before I shake my head, "What are we, twelve?"

"Not with these bodies." She winks and I can't help but laugh at her grin, my shoulders easing slightly with the change of subject, only for tension to return when she brings it up again a minute later.

With my eye trained on Harry as he orders a round of beer from the bartender, I cautiously and casually start to speculate with Avery.

"Have you noticed anything suspicious about Harry lately?"

As I knew she would, Avery ducks her head closer to mine, while narrowing her eyes at Harry like she could see through him, "Why? What's happening? What did he do?"

Despite the nerves in my stomach I let out a light chuckle at her vengeful tone, "Slow down, Nancy Drew. He hasn't done anything that I know of. He's just so... secretive."

I try to sound as detached as possible, though the question itself defeats that purpose. Though, if anyone knows about Harry and me, it's Avery. Considering she has walked in on us a few times.

Avery watches Harry carefully as he walks over to the table with our drinks. It's just the three of us and Liam tonight and although I try to push this thought from my mind, I can't help but feel like this is a double date.

"I mean... I've heard some pretty crazy rumors about him, but," She trails off, making sure Harry is still a safe distance away and that Liam is still engrossed in his phone before continuing, "But, they all seemed to exaggerated and uncharacteristic."

"What rumors?" I ask quickly and urgently, knowing of the ones surrounding women, but none more serious than those. Part of me doesn't want to be nosy, but another more prominent part is telling me that something isn't right here.