Cut!

Take 26 - Stand Up - Part 8

A/N: Comment as you read. It makes my day. 

“Where do you want to go?” Harry asked after he refilled our drinks.

I shrugged. “Somewhere beautiful.”

“There are a lot of beautiful places in Milan,” he said.

“Then it shouldn’t be a problem to find a place to go.” I stuck my tongue out at him.

One part I hadn’t counted on was what we would have to talk about. I was getting pretty decent at idle chat, but I didn’t think it would hold for the entire evening. At some point, we’d have to find a way to talk about what happened. I was dying to know where he knew Isabelle from, and I was sure he’d pondered about the whole deal with my sister.

“So…” he said after briefly signaling something to the driver. “Are we going to try and forget what just happened back there? Or are we at the stage where talking would probably help?”

I shrugged. “I’m not sure, to be honest.”

“How about this: one question from each of us. One answer. Then we let it go.”

I contemplated it, weighing the pros and cons of what he’d suggested. It made sense. Nodding, I agreed. “Okay. Me first.”

He laughed. “Sure, go ahead.”

“I know this is going to make me sound like such a horrible girlfriend, but I have to know. Where do you know Isabelle from?”

“I had a feeling you might ask that.” He sat down his glass and leaned forward to support his elbows on his knees. “I met her before I got famous and we tried to keep a relationship going back in the early days. She was a sweet girl, and I thought it was love. But as most thing goes, she couldn’t take the pressure that came with the fame. When I was away, she was at home miserable. It got to a point where she began to party a lot.”

I listened carefully.

“She began to hang with this… crowd of people. I don’t know who they were, and Isabelle always shrugged it off whenever I asked back then. Then one day, right before I had to go on stage, I got this text from her with a picture in it. Thinking it was her wishing me good luck or something, I hurried to see what it was, only to find a picture of her naked with another guy.” He let out a deep breath. “She had captioned it: This is what you’re missing out on.”

“That’s awful,” I said, regretting that I’d told her she was better than Peyton. In fact, those two seemed to fit together quite perfectly.

“Needless to say, once she sobered up, she apologized instantly,” he continued. “I didn’t want to listen to it, though. Being drunk is not an excuse to cheat. So I dumped her, and soon after, numerous rumors of me dating every girl I looked at surfaced.” He shook his head. “She must have believed them.”

I leaned over and wrapped my arms around him. “I know it’s a long time ago, but I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

He hugged me back. “I’m over it. I just hadn’t seen her since, so tonight was a bit of a shocker.”

“I bet,” I muttered and released him. Leaning back, I grabbed my drink again, readying myself for what was to come. “Your turn to ask.”

Part of me was convinced that I’d tell him everything right now. He just needed to ask the right question.

He rubbed his head and looked away. “Okay, so this is going to make me look like I’m only interested in one thing… But it’s honestly been bothering me all night.” Even in the dim lighting, I could see his cheeks turn a darker color.

Oh, boy… I did not know what to expect. “What?” I asked.

“Well… uhm…” Harry scratched his head, laughing nervously. “It’s really stupid.”

“Just ask,” I said. Now I was starting to get really dang curious.

He sighed. “When Peyton suggested that… ehm…” He cleared his throat and shifted in his seat. “That you tried the seafood, because of what would happen afterward…”

“Yeah?” I frowned. “What about it?”

“Did you deliberately choose not to order it because…” He sighed. “Shit… Did you chose to avoid seafood to signify that you weren’t interested in me in that way?”

It took a moment before his question registered. When the bell finally rang, I widened my eyes. “Oh!”

“Yeah…”

I sent a silent prayer to God—or whoever was listening—to help me to avoid laughing. It would be such a dick-move, and it had obviously been hard for Harry to ask that. Laughing would not earn me any points—no matter how ridiculous it sounded. I clenched my fists, forcing my nails into the palm of my hand.

Taking a deep breath, I looked at him. “Harry,” I said. “I can promise you—without a doubt—that if you want me to drive back there just to tell him that I very much would like you in… uhm… that way.” My own cheeks flamed up. “Then I’d do it. You don’t even have to ask me to do it, just turn the car around.”

“Really?” He met my eyes.

“Honest to God. I don’t…” Biting my lip, I tried to find the right words. “I don’t eat seafood anymore. That’s why I ordered roast beef. A delicious roast beef at that.” I smiled.

“I agree. It was perfect.” He grinned and took another sip of the champagne.

After that, we drove around and watched the beauty of Milan from inside the limousine. Harry was a good tour-guide, pointing out places with an excellent history. Although, a small part of me believed he made some of them up.

Somehow, I just couldn’t believe that the reason so many round balls were placed in the architecture, was to honor testicles and breasts. It just didn’t fit everything else I’d read about this place.

It was fun either way.

After midnight, the driver drove us home to the hotel, and Harry basically carried me to bed. He placed me gently on the bed, and I reached out to pull him down beside me.

“Don’t leave,” I whispered. “I like it when you’re here.”

He smiled and kissed my forehead. “I like to be here.”

I snuggled into him, resting my head against his chest. The soothing sound of his heartbeat almost lulled me to sleep, when something occurred to me.

“Harry?” I asked.

“Mmn? What’s wrong?”

“How come you didn’t use your question to ask about my sister after Peyton mentioned her?” I whispered.

He went quiet for a while. Then he kissed my forehead. “I figured that since you don’t want to talk about your family, it counted for your whole family. I respect that.”

“Thank you,” I said and yawned. “One day, I’ll tell you everything.”

“Peyton is a jerk,” he said.

“No argument from here,” I said.

He held me tighter. “Go to sleep, love. We have a long day tomorrow.”

I nodded against his chest, and finally, succumbed to a deep sleep.

 A/N: Give this a vote, maybe?