AMBIVALENT {h.s} [ON HOLD]

Chapter 21.

Harry had grumbled an "okay, whatever," when I reminded him of the answers he still owed me. We were now in his kitchen, me sitting on the counter next to the sink and him standing in front of the stove. I never had thought of Harry as one to cook. I seen him more of a microwave everything or go out to eat every night kind of guy.

"I'm making mac-n-cheese." Harry states.

"Sounds good. . . If you can pull it off."

"Pull it off?" Harry scoffs. "It will be the best mac-n-cheese you ever had." We both laugh after that.

"Where did Bree go, anyways?" I ask.

"To the guest bedroom upstairs that I'm letting her use while she's here, I think."

"Right,"

As if on cue, Bree rounds the corner into the kitchen. She's wearing actual clothes now, well pajamas anyways, instead of just a towel. I have to admit that she's very pretty and I push away the wave of jealousy that threatens to take over me. Why would I be jealous, anyways?

"What's going on?" Bree asks, speaking to either of us.

I don't answer but Harry does after a moment. "Cooking."

Bree pulls out a chair at the oak dining table and sits down. "I'm sorry about earlier." She says, looking at me. "I'm just protective over my best friend."

Best friend?

Harry walks to the sink and drains the macaroni before pouring it back in the pan and adding the packet of cheese. I aimlessly wonder if he's ever cooked naked before and almost laugh out loud at the thought of him wearing only an apron.

"Oh, it's okay. I get it." I say back to Bree.

Harry gets three plates out and separates the pasta evenly between them, handing Bree and I each one before he sits down at the table. I hop down from the counter and join the two of them. I am honestly not that excited about Bree being with us. I want to ask Harry the questions that I have and maybe get some answers, but she has ruined my chance.

I taste the food in front of me and am pleasantly surprised. Harry can cook, who knew? Everyone is silent as we shovel the food into our mouths and I decide that I don't care whether Bree is here or not. I want my answers.

I look at Harry. "What do you do for work?"

He looks surprised at my random outburst. When he doesn't answer fast enough for my likings, I add another question. "Why don't you like to be touched?"

Harry's expression darkens and his jaws clench. "Elena, not now."

"He's a journalist for an online news site and an executive editor of an online magazine. What a nerd, he is." Bree blurts out with a laugh.

I don't know what job I expected him to have but that definitely wasn't it. He strikes me more of maybe a. . . well, I don't really know. When I glance over at Harry there's a scowl on his face and he's scooting the macaronis around the plate with his fork.

"Sounds awesome." I say to Bree. Maybe she's not so bad after all. Maybe if I ask Harry questions while she's around, I'll get the answers from her.

"So why doesn't he like to be touched?" I ask her.

Bree's expression changes, her mouth forming a straight line. "That's a more personal question and I don't feel comfortable answering that. Just ask him about his past."

Harry slams his fist down on the table, making me jump. He immediately stands up, leaving his plate of food, and stalks off towards the stairs. "Fücking bullshît", I hear him mutter.

I look at Bree across the table and her eyes are wide, probably mirroring my own. I had not expected him to react that way and now I feel kind of bad. I would probably be mad also if one of my friends was telling someone my personal information right in front of me.

"I didn't think he would react that way." Bree says to me.

"I don't understand him at all."

"I grew up with him and I know what he's been through, so I do. To an outsider, though, I see how confusing his behavior might be."

So Harry is a journalist and an executive editor? But he still goes to bars and gets wasted? And still parties? It seems like he has the best of both worlds. Why can't I get my shit together? It makes me kind of mad, but only at myself.

"You're changing him." Bree says.

"Huh?"

"You're changing him, only slightly so far, but I can see it. Harry has never let a girl stay for dinner before, other than me, obviously." She explains. The last bit makes me want to punch her, but I resist. "And from what I've seen of the way you two act, you've been with him more than once?"

No sense in lying. "I have."

"Harry usually never sees a girl more than once. He's always been the hit it and quit it type of guy."

"So you're calling him a man whore, then?" I ask.

"No, I'm saying that you must mean something to him. You just have to give him time to show you he cares."

"He doesn't want a relationship." I say back. "And I don't know if I do either." Would I want to be with Harry if he asked? The question seems kind of obvious, now that I think about it. Why else would I be so jealous and mad when I thought Bree was here having sex with Harry? The plan of guarding my heart is going downhill fast.

"Bree, get the hell out of my house if all you're going to do is spill everything you know about me." Harry snaps, walking back into the kitchen.

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