AMBIVALENT {h.s} [ON HOLD]

Chapter 10.

"Fück, Elena, what are you doing to me?"

Harry's words repeat over and over again through my mind as we enter his house and head up the stairs toward his bedroom. I am still unable to answer him because I don't know what to say. The real question is what is he doing to me? He can make me feel emotions so easily. It's like he has a direct link to me to make me feel any way that he desires. No one has ever had such an effect on me. He makes me crazy.

When we get inside Harry's bedroom, he flicks the lamp on and plops down on the couch, the one that I have slept on twice. He pats the space next to him for me to sit down. I was expecting him to demand that I get undressed for him the moment we stepped inside. My body had already started buzzing with anticipation before we reached the top of the stairs.

"I want to know about you. Tell me everything." Harry says. I stare at him like he's grown another head. "I'll go get us something to drink, first." Harry adds and almost sprints out of the room.

I don't know what is going on with him but I decide to just play along for now. When he returns a few minutes later, he has two plastic cups with him. He hands me one that looks kind of like fruit punch with a straw and keeps the clear one for himself.

"I made you an Alabama Slammer." Harry informs me.

"Right, thanks." I say, taking a drink. It tastes fruity and sweet, with the alcohol only slightly noticeable.

Harry repeats his demand from earlier, wanting to know everything about me. I can't think of a reason he would want to know useless, boring facts about a girl who he just uses for occasional kinky fun, but I agree.

I spend the next hour answering Harry's seemingly endless amounts of questions. I tell him how my favorite color changed from green to pink, about my cat named Tiger when I was younger, how I always wanted to work in a salon, how Kelsey and I have been on again-off again friends since middle school, and how my life had started going down hill after my parents died. I tell him that I really need to change and get my life back on track.

Harry seems to be listening to my answers intently and looks genuinely interested. His green eyes stay wide and focused on me when I speak. He nods and laughs at the appropriate times, making me feel like it's easy to talk to him. Something in him has changed since our last encounter or he's just a really great actor. Maybe he will answer some of my questions now. I have tons.

"So, what's your story?" I ask. Harry tenses next to me and his relaxed expression changes to a closed off one.

Of course, I just spilled my life to him but he won't tell me a thing. I find it very irritating.

"Nothing interesting. Nothing worth talking about." Harry says as he toys with a loose thread on the couch.

"Please, just answer a few of my questions. I told you everything, just like you asked." I whine.

Harry sighs and runs a hand through his thick curls, a nervous habit of his that I've noticed. I start to reach over and place my hand on his thigh but change my mind, remembering how he once told me that he didn't want to be touched.

"Fine, I guess, but just a few." Harry reluctantly agrees.

I get more answers out of Harry than I expected to. I learn that he grew up in a city about an hour away and that he was born in England. He lived there until he was eight years old, which explains his lovely accent. He told me that school was always easy for him and that he passed every class with flying colors. He has an older sister is all that I can get out of him about his family, but at least it's something.

"Why don't you like to be touched?" I ask.

Before Harry has a chance to answer me, his phone starts to ring in his lap. It startles me, causing me to spill the two or three ounces of Alabama Slammer onto the couch between us. I stand up quickly, grabbing the now empty cup with one hand and covering my mouth with the other.

Harry curses and stands up before yelling "what?" into his phone. He listens for a minute or so before muttering a "Yeah, I'll be right there."

"I'll be right back." Harry says as he shoves his phone into his front pocket. "Try not to spill anything else while I'm away."

He darts out of his room and I go into his en suite in search of a towel. I find a black one and try my best to soak up the drink from his couch. The door slams downstairs and Harry returns within a minute, causing me to jump.

"I should be going home." I say to Harry, figuring that he's mad at me for spilling my drink.

"No, stay here." He says quickly, surprising me.

"I can't sleep on a couch soaked with Alabama Slammer." I argue.

"Sleep in my bed, with me." Harry says. He bites down on his lower lip like he's nervous. Since when has Harry ever been nervous? Especially about a girl sleeping in his bed? He cuffed me, blindfolded me, and gave me oral, but he's nervous about sleeping? He paces across the floor, tugging at his hair.

"Okay." I whisper.

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