Before She Falls

Chapter 48

"You do know that's my side of the bed, right?" Harry asks as he steps back into the bedroom.

"Oh, is it?" I respond sarcastically and spread my arms out around me, attempting to take up as much space as possible on the right side of the bed.

"Shouldn't you be getting into your pajamas anyway?" He starts to unbutton his shirt.

"Help me" I sit myself up and wait for Harry to come to the edge of the bed.

"Stand up" Harry commands me, but just ends up pulling on my forearms to stand me up himself. And thank God he took the initative because I don't think I could have possibly lifted my drunken body from the mattress.

He spins me around so my back is to him. He takes the zipper of my dress between his cold fingers and drags it down my back.

"Do you need a shirt?" Harry questions softly from behind me as he places his jacket on his chair, and then strips his white dress shirt from his torso to reveal his tattooed body that I love.

It's funny, I almost forgot that Harry has tattoos when he's all dressed up in fancy clothing. It's like you couldn't believe such a handsome gentleman dressed in such a dapper suit would be inked all over his chest and arms.

"Sure" I answer and nod my head even though I had packed a perfectly good shirt to wear to bed in my over-night bag that is sitting only yards away from this bed.

Harry reaches over into his dresser to pull out a long-sleeved, dark grey Henley shirt. I start to stumble over to the bathroom, but Harry's raspy voice stops me in my tracks.

"Really?" He looks at me as if I am committing a crime.

"What?" I ask him as I take a few steps back towards his bed.

"Just change in here" Harry tells me as he unbuckled his belt and starts to peel his tight slacks off of his legs.

I roll my eyes but turn around, taking the sides of my dress and pulling it down around my waist. I step out of the red lace and instantly pull Harry's Henley over my head. I bend down to pick up my dress, being sure to suck my stomach in a bit so it doesn't roll over onto itself the way it does sometimes. Even though Harry's shirt is covering my whole torso, my self-conscious brain tells me to flatten my gut the best that I can. I turn back to face Harry who is already looking at me, just as I expect. His eyes examine his own shirt like he has to take a moment to remember that he had just given it to me.

"Why do you hate changing in front of me?" His voice comes out like a growl because of his sickness.

"I don't" I lie and toss my dress so it lands right on top of my duffel bag.

"You never want to change in front of me, why?" Harry's standing in only his blue boxers, but is holding a pair of sweatpants in his hands. "I always change in front of you."

"I know" I agree and climb into bed, underneath the thin sheets.

"So what's your problem?" Harry bends over to slip his bare legs into his black sweatpants.

"There is no problem" I giggle as I try to somehow escape the subject. I'm a little self-conscious and there's no other way to put it, but I don't feel like expressing that to Harry. It's not a nice thing to share with other people. It's embarrassing more than anything and it makes me feel vulnerable and weak.

"Are you not comfortable around me?" Harry plops himself down right next to me on his stomach but he keeps his hands to himself.

"No" I turn to him. "I'm comfortable around you. I always have been."