Always

Chapter 14

"Harry?" I said, not even sure what I wanted to ask but wanting him to look at me.  His already sharp jaw clenched, making it stand out even more before he turned towards me.

"Hmm?" he responded, eyes meeting mine.

"Um... " I stalled, somehow unable to come up with anything to ask when there was so much I wanted to know.  "How old is your sister?" I wanted to slap myself for asking such a lame question, but it was a start.

"She's 22," he said, slightly confused by my random question. 

"So was she at school when we were?" I asked, doing the math quickly in my head.  He shook his head.

"No, she graduated the year before we started high school," he answered.  "She's in college now to become a teacher."

I was surprised at his addition to his answer.  Usually the only information he volunteered was exactly what I had asked for, nothing more.  "And your mom?  What does she do?"

"She's a personal chef," he started. "She's an amazing cook."

"That must be nice, no one in my house can cook," I added, giggling slightly.

"Hey, I liked your mom's spaghetti," he replied, smiling slightly, sticking up for my mom.

I rolled my eyes at him.  "Please, anyone can cook spaghetti.  It's like the easiest meal there is."

"Besides grilled cheese," he said, a smirk definitely playing on his lips now.

I opened my mouth playfully in mock insult.  "Hey, you didn't have any complaints about it."

"That's because I gave you my trade secret," he rebutted, grinning at me, dimples showing.  His glasses pushed up his face a little bit as he did so, causing him to reach up and adjust them. 

I shrugged. "I never claimed to be a good cook.  You, on the other hand, seem to be all talk."

He laughed nervously and fidgeted with his fingers. "I know some stuff."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, some."

"Care to prove that sometime?" I challenged.

"If you want me to," he said shyly, a similar response to when I asked if he'd sing for me.  If I wanted him to.

"I do," I said as he turned his face back toward me, looking me in the eye once again.  I was just about to add something when the doorbell rang, announcing the arrival of our pizza.  I rose from the couch to go answer the door and pay for the pizza.  Harry got up off his side and followed me up, passing me in his with his long strides to beat me to the destination.  He opened the front door, greeted the pizza man, took the pizza and handed it to me before waving me off as I held out some cash. 

"I've got it," was all he said before pulling his wallet out of his pocket and paying the man.

"No, Harry, let me, it was my idea," I protested, trying to get around him to get to the man before his arm pressed to my shoulder, grinning as he pushed me back slightly and closed the door with his other.  His arm that was pressed against my shoulder lingered for a moment as he grinned down at me, pleased with himself for successfully paying for the pizza. 

I glared up at him, feigning anger, before saying, "You should have let me pay for it."

"No way, my house, my rules," he replied, then motioned to the kitchen, taking the pizza from me.  "Help me with plates and stuff."

"Well, thank you," I said, still wishing he would have let me pay for it.

I followed him into the kitchen, where he showed me where I could find plates and napkins.  While I was gathering those, he held the pizza with one hand while opening the fridge and extracting two cans of soda, which he carried between his fingers.  I could feel myself staring yet again at his massive hands and was thankful I'd managed to keep my jaw from falling.