“How was your weekend?” Alex’s question is casual, but I tense just from the thought. Last weekend was a mess. An all over the place, mostly wonderful and entirely excruciating mess.

“It was okay,” I respond, trying my best to act nonchalant. It’s not as if I could come right out and say hey, Al, you know all those things I don’t share with you? Well, I went out and showed nearly all of them to a total stranger. Oh, and then he kissed me, and I liked it. “I went out with Viv on Saturday night.”

All of the sudden I’m transported back to Saturday night, and why I had to leave The Castle so abruptly. I can’t breach the subject of Grandma’s night terror with Alex, even though he used to know her well. Before Caleb. Not while I’m still sad and confused about anything from Harry to why I still haven’t taken my pills after such a close call.

Alex raises his eyebrows and smiles. It’s a weird smile, masking something I can’t quite put my finger on… but I don’t like it. “You went out for once? I hope Vivian didn’t get you into too much trouble.”

“Well, there was a moment where things got interesting,” I flush again from the thought of going up in The Solar with Harry. If I hadn’t gotten the call for Grandma, who knows how much further things would have progressed. Every single one of our encounters to date have been so strange and passionate. I still don’t know what to think of him.

I know that I like him, though. Dammit, I like him.

I can’t finish what I was about to say about how Vivian tried to gain VIP access to hunt down Trent Harlan, because then I’d have to spill about my own little adventure. I definitely can’t tell Alex about Harry. “It worked out, though,” I cop lamely.

Slowly, Alex seems to chew on what little information I supplied. He finally nods, letting it go. Good. One less thing I have to worry about. A flicker of something dark and obscure passes through his eyes, dimming them to a muddy shade of his usual hazel, and then it’s gone as soon as I notice it. At least I ­think I notice it; I haven’t exactly been in my right mind lately.

I can never be sure with Alex anymore, so I blink, half dumbfounded. No, I certainly don’t understand him like I used to think I did. He smiles brightly, his lips straining a little too tight. I watch him with cautious, guarded eyes. “Be careful when you’re out like that, JT. Vivian’s a wild chick. I still say you shouldn’t at all.”

If there’s one thing I wish I could change about my friendship with Alex—aside from his connection with Caleb’s downfall—it’s the fact that he knows about my disorder. And if given the chance, he makes a huge deal of it.

“Relax,” I brush him off, setting my jaw in determination. I won’t let him make me feel weak. “I didn’t drink. We only went out to so she could review the place. I was fine, Alex. Don’t worry about me.”

Even though he can be seriously annoying, I don’t forget the fact that he’s my shift manager, and that he has quite a bit of leeway when it comes to the hiring and firing of employees at the book store. I don’t want to fight with him, though I still wonder about the ominous look that crossed through his eyes. The way he stiffened. It causes me to become tense myself, just out of instinct.

“You’re my friend, Julia,” his eyes soften but they still look hard. I don’t trust him, and I want to correct him when he calls us friends. We used to be friends. “I just worry about you. Chill.”

Rolling my eyes subtly, I watch him turn away and go back to labeling the stack of textbooks on the desk. There’s nothing else for me to do—no customers are out on the floor, but soon I’ll have to venture into the basement and get some real work done. I become engrossed in my cup of tea again though I observe Alex blankly, lost in thought. I think about curly haired wild boys, my twisted bucket list, and yesterday’s Cardinals game.

They didn’t win. Ending the night on the slight windfall hadn’t been too bad of a thing, or at least until I came into work. And now I have to look forward to the rest of the week with Alex from nine in the morning until two o’clock in the afternoon.

At least I don’t have school. Lou’s designs are going well—I still have to schedule a meeting with her so she can see what I’ve decided on so far. I pray she likes it, though I’m not quite sure why her opinion matters so much to me. I want her to like me, because she’s a likeable person herself. It definitely has nothing to do with the fact that she’s close friends with Harry. It doesn’t.

“J?” Alex calls, glancing over to me questioningly. It’s only now I realize he might have been trying to gain my attention for the past thirty seconds. “I asked if you caught the game last night. The Sox killed your beloved Cardinals.”

I blink, as if in an everlasting haze. No, when I recall last weekend, I don’t like to think about I watched the game alone last night and cried for my lost father and brother. What I like to think about is how it felt to have Harry kiss me, and how it felt to kiss Harry. From one kiss and the slightest of touches, the man has managed to engulf almost all of my entire thought process.

“They’ll bounce back,” I respond, voice faint even though confident.

From somewhere underneath my chair, my phone alerts me to a received text message. Call it intuition or plain paranoia, but I just know who it is.

“Who’s texting you?” Alex poses the question in a disbelieving way that infers I have no friends. It’s as if I can feel my inner temperature rise by several degrees. With excess force, I toss my bag onto my lap and pull out my phone. The only reply I offer to Alex is another roll of my eyes before I read over the text message. It takes several moments for me to really read it, for it to sink in.

I’m taking you out Friday night. x

For probably a minute or more I stare down at my phone, shell-shocked. Sure, I had suspected it was Harry who’d texted me, but this? A date? He actually wants to see me. Me, even after all I put him through yesterday? After he left and I was alone with my thoughts and the Cardinals’ loss, I convinced myself that Harry’s kissing me had been one of those twisted guy things, where Harry could later boast about how he took the weird book store girl’s first kiss.

Before that he called me beautiful, and in the heat of the moment, I believed him. But then I remembered after a cold splash of reality that he still doesn’t know. If and when he does find out, I know he’ll regret it so much. Because who wants to kiss the weird book store girl with a broken heart, right? It’s too much.

Alex’s head unexpectedly obstructs my view, and I snatch my phone away from his prying eyes. Perhaps one of the only good things about having Alex as my manager is the fact that I can use my phone freely, even when off break, but his nosiness overrides the one small positive.

“Alexander!” I huff in disbelief, stuffing my phone into the front pocket of my jeans. “I can’t believe you just did that.”

“It’s just a text, isn’t it,” he brushes it off as if his action was perfectly acceptable. From his relaxed posture, leaned against the counter a little too close for me to be completely comfortable, he looks relaxed. I can tell he didn’t get a look at Harry’s text.

An insult is on the tip of my tongue, but he breaks eye contact and glances over to the nearly antique clock on the wall, then looks back to me with a lurching smirk. “Break’s over. Back to work, Townsend.”

I sigh, defeated, and toss the rest of my tea in the sink before I go back to the main floor to stock books, Harry’s text stuck like a blooming flower in my otherwise wilted thoughts.

For fifteen minutes I numb myself with the tedious work of stocking all the new academic books for this semester in a memorized, neat fashion, before my phone buzzes once more.

Ignoring me again, are we?

Good lord, I’m way in over my head with this boy. The glimpses I got of him before Saturday night at the club left me to believe he was a well put together, mature business man (despite his young age and crudeness.) Then, at my house yesterday I witnessed an entirely different Harry. That of a young, carefree, totally attractive guy. A ticklish, rude, nosy boy.

In short, I’m so confused I’ve had to force myself to function normally for the past twenty four hours, and it hasn’t been easy.

I’ll reply to him when I get a chance on my lunch break, I reassure myself, even though I know all too well what I’m doing. I’m putting it off.

An hour later, just before my lunch break, I emerge from the basement in search of another stack of books to transfer downstairs. I’m sweaty and uncomfortable from the work. It beats dealing with customers, though, so I grit my teeth and get it done, eager to prove to Alex that I can handle a little hard labour and my heart won’t spontaneously combust.

I don’t hear him at first, too caught up in the menial work, but when I collect my dark length of hair and pull it over one shoulder I catch a glimpse of green eyes, long legs, and unruly hair. He’s talking to Alex at the main counter, and I can’t ignore the way I feel just upon the sight of Harry. It’s like reliving the moment he leaned in to kiss me. Yesterday. It’s still so fresh in my mind; I have to keep myself from thinking about it every waking second and avoid the instinct to zero in on his soft, pink lips. Even from across the room, I can feel the pull this man has on me.

My first kiss… I still can’t get over that. I feel like a giddy thirteen year old, but it’s true. With Harry Styles, one of Chicago’s most successful young businessmen. The man who wouldn’t let me go, even though I gave him so many good reasons to walk away. Then he found my list, and he kissed me.

When I come back to the present, I realize Harry is staring at me with that same wondering smile with his head tilted to the side, and Alex levels me with a simple side eye. A look he gives me when I act especially weird, and I finally manage to close my slackened mouth and snap from my trance at the top of the stairs.

Perhaps Harry could feel the heat of my eyes on him like I always do when he gives me those smoldering looks, except I know I’m not half as attractive when I do it. I probably resemble a doe-eyed sloth when I make eyes at Harry.

Harry looks happy. To see me? My heart jumps in the most delightful of ways. I feel like a huge schmuck for becoming struck at the mere sight of him, but I allow myself the indulgence for now. Soon enough I know I won’t be able to, so I should enjoy how this feels—how Harry makes me feel—while I can. His cheerfulness is infectious, too, and I find myself smiling softly as I finally get my legs to work and move forward. They feel like jelly but I get there, settling in behind the counter next to Alex.

“Fancy seeing you here,” Harry greets, and it isn’t until now that I notice how posh he can sometimes sound. Even though I don’t quite understand why, it only makes me smile wider. Crap, I’ve turned into a giddy tool over a boy I don’t even know. And I like how it feels. But still. Try to get a hold of yourself, Julia.

When Alex’s elbow brushes against mine, I notice Harry’s eyes gravitate to the contact and he holds his gaze there for a half second. It’s as if he doesn’t like it, the most innocent of contact, and my mind reels while it tries to work out why. I flush and subtly shift to create some distance from my co-worker.

“What a coincidence,” I agree sarcastically, though there is no malice in my tone. Flicking his eyes between the two of us, Alex furrows his brow and frowns at our exchange. For now I’ll ignore him, if only because I know he’d never believe it if I told him. You… and a boy? He’d exclaim, quite embarrassingly.

Unheard of. His surprise would be warranted too. And then he’d tease the hell out of me for it. I want to keep this from Alex for as long as possible. Too embarrassed to look at Alex, I train my eyes on Harry’s form. He’s wearing another one of his business suits, and if I let myself I could easily get lost in exactly how well he wears it.

From the employee’s room behind us, the book store phone line rings.

“Can you handle this? I have a supplier on the line,” Alex doesn’t wait for my reply, and I shake my head lightly when he stalks into the other room. What the hell has been wrong with him lately?

Harry watches him with a look of mild curiosity, but he quickly turns his burning attention to me. He leans forward on his elbows across the counter like he did at the book signing, his hands braced underneath his chin. “Hello, Jules.”

I shake my head again in dismay, but my small smile remains in place. When he’s in a playful mood like he is now, he reminds me a mischievous little boy. That image is quickly erased when I remember how his hands felt scorching on my skin, though, and now I’m flushing because I can’t stop thinking about yesterday’s kiss.

“Harry,”

“Friday night?” His voice easily overpowers my own, and I clamp my mouth shut.

“Did you come here to ask me that?” I ask, visibly shaken, and I wish I had nerve like Vivian. Vivian would have asked him out last week and had her way with him soon after. Not because she is easy or a tramp, but simply because if she wanted someone… she’d have them.

His megawatt smile doesn’t dim at my accusation. “Nope,” he pops the ‘p’ and I lean back, ever amused with his cheeky behaviour yet utterly nervous.

A date isn’t a good idea. He kissed me. I like it, and now I’m worried it was a mistake. As much as I know I like him, as good as it felt, it just might have been wrong. I want to try and go as long as I can without giving him a straight answer, but if there’s one thing I know about Harry under all the mysteriousness is that he’s a persistent son of a bitch.

All of this past week proved that alone.

“I want to order a book,” he says. “I haven’t been able to find it on my own, so I was hoping you’d dedicate a little extra attention to my case.”

“We don’t usually…” I trail off when Harry begins to pout and he tilts his head toward me, giving me the full effect of his beautiful green eyes. It doesn’t sound like a job for the book store—it sounds like a job for me.

“Please, Jules. For me?”

What he says strikes a chord in me, and I find myself staring at him intensely. He’s asking me for a favor, but it’s not that. It’s the sort of feeling that makes me giddy and queasy at the same time, and I realize it’s because of how we interact. I’m nervous, sure, but we act as if we’ve known each other for much longer than a week.

Finally, I shake my head. I don’t know where I stand with Harry or how far this will even go, whatever we have between us—but I can’t say no to his request. “You’re crazy, Harry.”

He knows he’s got hot me, so he slips the sheet of information across the counter to me with the beginnings of a cheeky smile. “Thank you.”

For me it’s one more reason I have to be in contact with him. Aside from the design job, and aside from Harry’s sheer persistence in being a part of my screwed up life. I’m unsure, now, whether or not it’s a good thing for a bad thing. Offhanded, I cast a quick look down to the information he’s supplied.

The Ship That Sailed to Mars, a Fantasy by William M. Timlin. First edition, first printing. My brow furrows for a moment at the sight of what sounds like a children’s tale, but I don’t question it. Below the title is Harry’s credit card information and a note that tells me to spend however much needs to be spent. I decide not to ask and look back up to him, folding the paper and putting it in my pocket.

“Friday night?” He’s incessant.

“I don’t know,” I sigh. But I do know with firsthand experience that Alex can be so nosy sometimes, that he’s almost certainly watching my interaction with Harry through the window while he’s on the phone. I bet he can see how close Harry is leaning to me, practically having sprawled his upper torso over the counter. It only serves to make me feel even more embarrassed.

A date.

“What’s there not to know?” He doesn’t look put off at all by my indecision. I wonder if he knows the war that’s going on within me, between my head and my heart. Though weak, I think my heart is winning this battle. It’s a daunting, scary thought, because I don’t want to hurt Harry. And I know I will if I do this, if I go on a date with him.

“I don’t date,” I try to say with an air of confidence, but it comes out more as a question. Leveling with him hurts more than I’d ever admit. If we continue to grow closer, though, I know we’ll only end up hurt. It’s inevitable.

“Julia,” Harry lowers his voice, eyes soft yet I can tell he is determined. He captures me with his eyes, and I don’t find the strength within myself break his hold. “I made it clear yesterday that I won’t let you drive me away. It’s just a date—I want to spend some actual time together.”

When I don’t say anything, his smirk resurfaces. “It isn’t some big scary event. I just want to get to know you, Jules.”

“Friday night,” he confirms, surely having realized that’s he’s stunned me into silence. I can’t even form a protest, because then he leans forward, fast and fluid, to press a quick chaste kiss to my lips.

Harry laughs when I emit a small gasp, having been totally caught off guard. My heart hammers within my chest, though I’m not afraid of this feeling. I really shouldn’t be surprised. Harry kissed me once already, and I let him, so of course he has no problem doing it again.

And hell, deep down I don’t either.

My heart doesn’t stop its flips even as Harry releases another amused chuckle when he turns to leave, probably at my own expense for my innocence.

“I’ll see you then, Miss Townsend,” he calls casually, sparing me a look over his shoulder, eyes dancing and lips pulled into a flirtatious smile.

I’m stuck there for a good five minutes after he’s left, in shock with my hand pressed to my mouth again like yesterday. Yes—I feel somersaults in my stomach during even the shortest, most teasing kisses with Harry. It had only been a casual cheeky gesture from him, but he knew it would provoke a reaction from me.

How am I supposed to look past what I feel from just one look he sends my way? I can’t. I can’t deny my attraction to Harry. But I know, as sure as I am that I’ll never have a healthy heart, that if I go on a date with him on Friday night it will be a mistake.

Alex’s muffled voice from within the employees’ room takes a sudden drop, and then I hear his footsteps shuffle toward the door. Oh, no. Having been so engrossed in Harry, I forgot he was even back there. I’m stuck staring straight ahead, looking onto the floor of the store. I can’t turn around and face him when the door swings open. It doesn’t close, so I’m left to guess he’s leaning against the frame of the door, like usual.

Did he see that? Did he see Harry kiss me?

Despite the fact that we aren’t close anymore because he was the driving force behind Caleb’s addiction, Alex has known me since I was an awkward preteen. So he’s probably more aware than anyone that my experience with men is non-existent. He heard all about the party when we were younger and how I wouldn’t even kiss that boy, because that boy was also popular and friends with both Caleb and Alex. In school, light had momentarily been shed on me and not in a good way. He’d told everyone that I wouldn’t kiss him because I must have been a lesbian.

Because he was so resistible. Right.

I can only imagine what Alex must think.

“What was that about?”

After taking several steadying breaths, I turn to face him. He’s leaning against the door jamb, and I’m actually surprised to see him look so unimpressed.

It doesn’t—or shouldn’t—matter to him if I’m seeing anyone. He isn’t my brother. I can hardly tolerate the man sometimes on the harder days. He had better choose his next words carefully, because I have a whole lot of pent up anger when it comes to Alex. Besides, we’re not close enough for him to care.

“He’s just a client. I’m designing a bunch of stuff for him and his partner,” my voice dies down when I realize I’m about to set into one of my embarrassing rambles. “It’s nothing.”

“Didn’t look like nothing,” he mutters, rubbing the back of his neck while his eyes meet the floor.

So he did see. He must have to be acting so strange.

“Sorry?” I say snappishly, eyes narrowing on his thin form.

He mutters something my ears strain to catch, but it’s something along the lines of ‘easy’. My blood boils, but I manage to keep my temper in check. He snakes his eyes up to meet mine, and it’s only then I see exactly how disgruntled he looks. There’s still something lurking within his eyes, dark and angry, and a look he’s never given me before now. I swiftly realize I shouldn’t try to make him any angrier because I recall again that he has a temper of his own; one much fiercer than mine.

“Ain’t he the guy from the book signing?” He asks, as if in an effort to cover up his insulting grumblings. His voice is quiet, almost in a panicking way. Panicking for me, because Alex is almost never quiet. I observe him closely, cautiously, and nod. The movement jars my thoughts, and I remember that my lunch break should have started about five minutes ago.

He watches me when I take a hesitant step backward and away from him, the small of my back brushing against the counter. I really, really don’t like being around Alex when he’s in these moods. It’s a little more petrifying for me, perhaps, because I know for a fact that he’s caught up in some bad stuff. He’s even the main person who got Caleb into it. Alex is or at least used to be violent, but never to me.

But maybe that’s only because I’ve never upset him or pissed him off. I don’t want to chance it.

“Yep,” my voice shakes pathetically. “Cool coincidence, right? Listen, they want a custom website and I was hoping that maybe you could help me out again with some of the harder coding? Same cut as last time,” I say it all in a garbled rush, eager for him to just agree so I can get out of there and leave for lunch, and this entire awkward situation.

Thanks, Harry.

He seems to have ignored everything I just said. “I know his type, JT. He’s one of those cocky asshole businessmen. Before you know it he’ll be handing you a hotel card to keep you his dirty little secret from his girlfriend.”

“Alex!” I hiss, looking around to the few customers we have right now. They don’t seem to be too bothered by our argument, but I’m already flushed. Harry doesn’t have a girlfriend. Does he?

“Shut up. Just shut up,” I snap, and I’m pleased when he looks at least a little startled by my outburst. “You have no idea if there’s anything going on with Harry and I, so I suggest you quit while you’re ahead.”

When he says nothing in return but only looks at me as if I’ve grown several heads, I scoff and brush past him to retrieve my hoodie and purse, secretly on edge for the half a second I have to be so close to him in the doorway. He’s stiff and silent when I pass by him again. I’ve almost made it around the counter, home free, when he snaps out of his bizarre daze.

“Wait, Julia,” he sighs, remorseful. While I know it’s most likely not a good idea, I turn to look at him, eyes already narrowed. “I’m sorry, alright? I just… I feel protective over you. Especially since…”

Since Caleb.

Go fuck yourself, Al, I want so badly to say. You’re the reason he’s gone.

But I don’t have the nerve, and I know he’d probably be sent into a fit if I bring up blame. He nearly lost his mind last year after Caleb died, though lately he’s seemed to have put himself back together.

Until this past week, at least.

“Let me know whenever you want help with the coding, and I’ll drop by,” he reels himself in, shaking his head slightly with blank eyes trained on my shoes. I know he’s realized his weird behavior. He scratches his forearm in thought, and he looks a thousand miles away from our conversation.

“Okay,” I agree unsurely after a long moment of hesitation. I don’t want to fight anymore. I just need to get out of here and away from him. “I’ll see you after lunch.”

A look back on my way out of the book store tells me that Alex, still stood dumbly by the sales desk, is watching me leave. I snap my head forward and pick up my pace, unnerved with the way he looks at me. I don’t know why, but our heated exchange plays on my mind for the rest of the day.

I realize Alex scares me sometimes because he took away my brother, and I wonder what else he can take, too.

Notes

Comment? Tell me what you think! The plot is beginning to thicken ;) Also, Harry's and Jules' incredibly cute date is the next chapter. Just sayin'.