Sloan SONiC Session - "The Other Man"

I hated golf, hated it with a passion. Will normally didn’t invite me but now I knew why he’d flat out told me I was coming whether I liked it or not. He was angry I had been rude to Harry at our party and dragging me along today was a way to show him that I wasn’t a complete bitch; Will was expecting me to play nice in both senses.

“Harry!” I smiled, touching his bicep and kissing his cheek, suppressing the memories of whimpering his name. “So nice to see you again. Once more, my husband neglected to inform me you were joining us today.”

Harry grinned at me, looking me up and down in my horrible golfing gear–salmon pink shorts and a navy polo shirt similar to his. “Good to see you too.”

Our conversation was brief as we were led outside to separate golf carts: Terry and Harry in one, Will, Mia and I in the second.

“You could have told me Harry was coming. I don’t have anything against the guy.” I was trying to sound casual but I just wanted to be sick.

“Be nice to him, Layla, that’s all I’m telling you. He insisted I ask you along when we planned this; don’t make me regret that I did.” Will looked stressed–was there more to this than I knew? Maybe the band weren’t happy at all with the stage and this was all some attempt to keep the contract.

“I’ll be good, I promise.” I reached a hand to his knee as he drove but he didn’t acknowledge it, so I pulled it back and wondered how I was going to keep everything together.

I’d come along for the ride but I refused to play, choosing instead to act as a vague sort of caddy for Will, even though I had no idea what I was doing. Quickly, however, my attention turned to Mia: she was chatting and laughing with Harry, playing with her long, blonde braided hair as they spoke.

Jealousy formed like an unexpected ball in the pit of my stomach. Mia was 23, gorgeous, tall, and with a model’s figure which she’d inherited from her actual former model mother; she looked like everything I was not. My brain started to picture how good they would look having sex: it would be the sort you’d see in arty, black and white photos where sex is erotic and not at all messy or a little bit gross. Editorial Sex, that’s what it would be.

’You’ve let him see you naked,’ I thought to myself, my hands gripping onto Will’s wedge, knuckles turning white as I was gripped by embarrassment. ’Not once, but twice! He was probably trying not to vomit watching your fat, cellulite-covered arse jiggle.’ I groaned out loud and bit my lip hoping nobody noticed.

But both Harry and Will did, speaking over each other to ask if I was ok.

“I’m fine.”

The words came out strangled as I forced a smile; I wanted the ground to swallow me whole.

They played for a little while longer until Terry had to leave, and then it was just the four of us. I’d contemplated going back to the clubhouse with Terry but the idea of leaving Harry and Mia alone was almost as bad as leaving Harry and Will alone, so I was stuck in a golfing nightmare. Stuck with my husband, my lover, and the girl making eyes at my lover.

“Are you sure you’re ok?” Will interrupted my thoughts as he put a hand gently on my face, thumb stroking my cheek. “Are you really that unhappy here?”

“Darling,” I smiled, tilting my head against his hand surprised by his affection but enjoying it. “I’m fine. I’m just sad Terry couldn’t stay longer, he’s the whole reason I bloody agreed to come!”

Will smiled, hand now stroking my hair. “He said he’ll make it up to you, we both will. I’m happy you came.”

He was about to kiss me when we both noticed Mia heading to one of the golf carts. She was angry about something, but when I looked at Harry to find an answer he shrugged and shook his head before turning back to take his shot.

“Shall I go check-” I started, but Will stopped me.

“I’ll go. You stay here and play nice with Harry. Mia’ll be fine.” Will looked stressed again and I was relieved that it wasn’t me who was the one to have possibly ruined a perfectly decent business round of golf.

Will took his golf bag from me and followed after Mia who was desperately trying to start the cart. I watched them exchange angry words until she finally moved over for him to sit in the driver’s seat. As they drove away I should have felt glad to be alone with Harry, but I felt uneasy, like there was something wrong but I had no idea what it was.

The sound of Harry’s club thwacking against the ball as he swung brought my attention back to him.

“What happened? Did you say something to her?” I quizzed, walking to where he stood so he had no choice but to listen.

“I have no idea. We weren’t even talking to each other, she just suddenly stormed off.” He paused, unsure if he was going to speak again, but his face became defiant as he crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Not that you would know that, you were too distracted.”

I blinked at him a few times, processing his words and what they meant. Was he jealous? He wouldn’t be that stupid, would he? He had asked Will to bring me; did he not think that I would occasionally interact with my own husband?

“All I asked was if you had said anything to her; don’t lash out at me because I was being a wife.”

I was tempted to jump in the third buggy and drive away. I was too old for these games and the drama, but I was also aware that I was having time with Harry outside of a hotel room.

“You’re right, I’m sorry.” Harry reached a hand out, his fingers caressing my arm. “It’s just harder than I thought it would be to see you two together.”

“Stop putting us both in this position then. If he invites you somewhere, then decline. No coming to my house for parties or arranging golfing afternoons; it’s not fair to you, me or Will.”

I wanted to hug Harry, to reassure that I still wanted him but with the possibility of lenses lurking in the bushes I simply touched his shoulder and squeezed it. “Please?”

“I promise.” Harry’s smile was sad but he didn’t care about us being seen. Pulling me into an embrace, Harry muttered, “This is harder than I thought.”

“Any time you change your mind, just say”, I replied, half heartedly, worried he would actually end things.

Harry let go of me and shook his head. “Oh no, Mrs. French, you don’t get out of this that easily.” His cheeky smirk was back, loaded with suggestion like we hadn’t just had a serious heart to heart. “Now, how about I show you how to play?”

“I’m not sure…”

Forcing me to take the club he was holding, Harry’s hands went to my hips and he spun me around. “We almost definitely need to work on your swing.” He pressed his body against mine, arms around me and positioning our hands on the grip then used his feet to spread my legs.

His instructions went no further. Instead, he put his mouth to my ear and spoke quietly, “I wish we could have sex right now, right here.”

“If only I’d worn that skirt I had planned on wearing”, I breathed, leaning back against his chest, the need to feel his hands on me growing rapidly. I could feel Harry growing harder as he started to grind against my behind. “Isn’t there somewhere we could go?”

“We can’t risk being seen”, he groaned, his grip on my hands tightening and his head dropping onto my shoulders.

“Harry, you’re humping my behind, that wouldn’t look great either.”

He stopped his movements and began to laugh. Slipping from his grip, I turned to face him, watching with amusement as he readjusted himself, the frustration written on his face.

“Can we just go back to clubhouse? I’ve had enough golf.”

“Maybe we can find a broom cupboard while we’re there”, Harry grinned and wiggled his eyebrows, hiking his golf bag up onto his shoulder.

“Not happening, Styles. Not happening.”

Notes