Familiar

Chapter 5

Brooklyn...

At that precise moment I felt I looked the reactions of Eleanor, Niall and Liam combined – wide eyes, agape mouth and pallid complexion. Only I wasn't jumping in excitement, rather I was stunned into inaction.

Staring at the man of the hour, inexplicably, my heart started to race.

This was utter foolishness!

He's been gone a long time, going eye to eye with danger and the reasonable behavior should be there with the crowd, joining in on welcoming him. Instead, I'm here contemplating on running out the backdoor and I knew I would possibly be doing so if I wasn't rooted to my spot.

His still short hair was pushed back with a few wisps falling and framing his face. Just like old times, he was still clad in a plain white shirt, black skinnies and suede ankle boots. The only difference – and which had my throat going dry – was how noticeable his clothes fit his body more snugly this time around than in high school.

And no, it wasn't because he seemed soft around the middle.

His famous dimple was on appearance as he greeted each one with fervor and hugging those that held a place in his heart.

"Ellie" he cheered as he got round to Eleanor. Lifting her up and twirling her.

I had to admit, I missed seeing that dimple.

Eleanor's delighted squeal pulled a smile from me, greatly tempting me to run over there and throw my arms around him.

And probably gain a feel of his muscles.

Fuck! What the hell is wrong with me?

I've never had to censor my thoughts on him during high school. Most probably because they remained within a G rating. But after ending up tangled on his sheets, I couldn't go a day without having a reminder of what lay behind those clothes – usually in my knickers.

His strong and firm biceps.

His muscled back.

His abs that would clench taut when he was about to come.

His cute butt that would tense up in my hands.

And then there was his hardness between my legs.

Jesus Christ!

By the time I was able to gain control of my thoughts, I wouldn't have been surprised if people assumed I had pox – my face felt a hundred degrees Celsius. I cursed under my breath, I was convinced I already had better control of myself. For Harry to show up and effortlessly draw this reactions from me can only spell trouble for me. I couldn't – no, I refused to repeat those moments of waking up in different beds.

Bicycle Brooklyn

The Brooklyn Blowie

Brooklyn the bender

Backdoor Brooke

The chant of nicknames I've unfortunately acquired over the years come off strong and loud that it overpowers the rest of the noise in the room. It has me abruptly turning and fixing my things. A prickly feeling washes over my skin and despite being sorely tempted, I refrain from looking over my shoulder. I've had enough of the judging stares, the blatant whispering and the pointed fingers.

But just as I'm about to hoist my pack over my shoulder warmth spread over me. Even if I had my back to most of them, I could pinpoint its source in a heartbeat. I can't even come up with words to describe how I know its from his stare alone.

I just know.

It was comforting.

It was inviting.

"Brooke, you leaving? Come on over, look who's back!"

Bloody hell.

Usually, Niall was too adorable of a friend. But there were also instances I've murdered the Irish lad in my head.

With a groan, I dropped my bag once more on the seat and tried to make sure I was at least decently presentable as inconspicuously as I could. Turning, my vision is instantly snared by emerald eyes.

If before I thought his gaze was engaging, now, I felt my breath was literally knocked out of me and I questioned myself if his stare had always been as intense. His expression was indecipherable as his orbs implored my own. I felt my lips quivering but my words refused to come out.

But what exactly was I gonna say anyway?

"Uh Brooke, you doing okay?" asked Niall bemusedly.

I tried not to imagine how I looked like as my focus shifted to Niall. I might've seemed like a twat but at the same time I'm quite thankful he's able to snap me out of my reverie. Then my eyes landed on Liam who was beside him. He was eyeing me quite warily and that was enough reminder for me that a lot of people are still in the room as us.

I needed to pull my head out of the clouds. Fast.

"Uh, yeah" I cleared my throat, making a move to approach them "Just surprised is all." My eyes darted from the ceiling to the wall and the flooring, stopping only as I bumped onto Eleanor's shoulder. I squeaked an apology and some lame excuse.

I might've moved further, but the tendrils of heat emanating in front of me told me I was already where I should be. It was the combination of stifling and enticing and as I studied the few individuals remaining stood there with us, I mused if it was just me or was the vent in need of having a fix?

But more importantly, is he aware of it too?

As I spotted Liam's face, still pinning me with suspicion, I finally had the urge to risk a glance, only I couldn't do it longer than a second as I saw Harry's pools still boring into me – in a way that could convince me that it's just the two of us in the room.

"Welcome back Harry." I might've mumbled it to his shirt but at least it came out in a steady voice and that should've been acceptable already if not for my hand. It did quite a solo tango as I had difficulty figuring out at first how to greet him, pausing between us as I just aimed for a handshake.

It hang there for quite a while and I almost had the urge of dropping it as I became convinced he wasn't going to take it. He didn't.

His right hand closed in on my wrist, making my eyes level with his. I gasped in surprise as his other hand settled dangerously low on my back, guiding me while pulling me as well.

My chest landed softly against his and I could've sworn I saw him give the slightest of smirks before he bent down a little and gently placed his lips on my cheek. "It certainly is nice to see you again...Brooklyn."