Previously in Whiplash

"Hello?" I say still juggling my things as I try to get my door open.

"Hey, it's me. Did you get the flowers?"

I pause for a moment as the voice penetrates my ears.
Jamie?

This isn't Jamie. This doesn't sound like Jamie. But the flowers. Those are from Jamie. Aren't they? And then it hits me, just exactly who the voice is on the phone.

Oh my god.
Wait.
The flowers.
They're from Niall?

I hear Niall ask me again. "Harper? Ya there? Did you get the flowers I sent you?"

That's when my whole world went white.

---

It takes a few moments for my world to come back into focus. I blink dazedly until the sound of
Niall's semi worried voice pushes through the haze, bringing me back to the here and now.

"Harper? Hello?"

I shake my head, clearing the rest of the fog and answer, sounding slightly confused. "Niall?"

A rush of relieved breath through the phone fills my ear and it makes me smile. "Yeah, it's me. Is this a bad time? I can call back." Without giving me a chance to answer, he just plows ahead. "I just wanted to call and see if you got the flowers I sent you. I think I got the address right. I had to do a bit of digging to figure out where you worked. I mean, not in a creepy way. It wasn't creepy, I swear. It really wasn't..."

While he's rambling, I'm struggling to get my front door open. My hands are full, the bags are slipping and my key won't turn properly. To top it all off, my phone is sliding on my shoulder and I don't have a free hand to catch it. Niall's voice fades for a moment as it shifts and starts to fall so I stop what I'm doing, grab the phone and readjust it. And to the surprise of no one, Niall is still talking. It doesn't even phase him in the slightest. In all honesty, he probably wouldn't have noticed if I'd just dropped him on the ground.

"...I just wanted to do something nice. I know it's really something that should be said in person, but it's a little hard when I'm out of the country. Tour has been a whirlwind. That's why I called so late the other night. I was hoping maybe you'd call me back..."

The boy's mouth is moving a mile a minute. He must be nervous. I clamp the phone to my shoulder with my cheek and finally get the door unlocked only to trip over the threshold and almost completely face plant on my front carpet. Luckily, I catch myself in time and only lose one bag out of the four or five in my arms. My mouth turns down in a grumpy sneer as I watch one small can of peas roll under the couch. Groaning, I get down on my hands and knees to retrieve it. The bags I had done so well in not letting fall are now all over the floor.

My groan catches his attention and Niall immediately stops to ask, "Is everything okay?"

I mumble that it's fine and he continues on. Grabbing my things from the floor, I walk to the kitchen and throw it all down in exasperation. One bag misses the counter completely and I watch, horrified, as it falls to the floor with a quiet crash. A carton of chicken stock flies open and starts to empty its contents all over the floor.

"Dammit!" I yell, picking it up and tossing it in the sink with more than the necessary force. I grab for anything and everything to wipe up the newest mess I've created and the entire time Niall is still talking in my ear, rambling about the tour, clearly nervous but I don't have time to sort him and this out. Finally, I lose my patience and I explode, "Niall! I can't do this right now."

"Oh." He stops short. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to call at a bad time. It's just..." He sounds dejected and my heart aches the tiniest bit.

"It's not that. I just..." I sigh in frustration, "...I'm in the middle of something at the moment and I've got to let you go and take care of it."

"Will you call me back?" He asks apprehensively.

A dish towel soaked with chicken stock from the floor is dripping in my hand and all over my shoes and Niall wants to know if I'm going to call him back. Jesus. I really don't have time for this, but I answer him anyway. "Yes. I will call you back. I don't know when. Later tonight, maybe if you're still up."

He lets out an audible sigh of relief colored with a hint of sadness. "Okay. I'll talk to you later then."

I hang up the phone without even saying goodbye, too worried about the dripping mess in my hand than I am about how that will come across. I toss the soaked rag into the sink and it lands next to the now empty chicken stock container and I go to find a new rag so that I can finish cleaning up the mess I made. Throughout this whole ordeal, I barely caught more than two sentences of what Niall was saying and now I feel terrible. This is the story of my life really. I say one thing in the moment and then feel bad about it ten minutes later. I toss the new dirty cloth into the sink so I don't have to deal with it now. I'm trying not to think too much about it. Thankfully my phone rings a moment later and it's Jamie so I'm distracted from this whole thing with Niall and what I'm possibly going to say to him later on tonight.

I calm myself with a few deep breaths before I answer. "Hello, love, are you feeling any better?"

Jamie coughs through the phone, causing me to pull it away slightly from my face. "Ugh, I feel the tiniest bit better. I'm looking forward to some soup though. Have you made it home yet?"

"Just walked in the door. I'm whipping it up and I'll be right over, ya?"

"Thank you, Harper. You're the best."

Setting my phone down, I put my hands on my hips and look at the wet mess that was only moments ago my grocery bags. I've lost my stock, but I can make this work. I chew the side of my lip, thinking, then making a decision, I get to work.

An hour later and I'm ladling steaming chicken vegetable soup into a large glass bowl. It smells delicious and I hope that it will hit the spot for Jamie. I send him a quick text, letting him know I'm on my way. I decide to change my clothes and head back to my bedroom to quickly pull on a fresh pair of jeans and a newly washed t-shirt. I pull my hair up into a messy ponytail too, but none of it is keeping my mind from drifting back to Niall and his damn phone call. The sound of his voice and the words he chose echo in my ears like a tuning fork.

No. I refuse to let him control any part of my life anymore. He doesn't deserve this much brain power from me. Flowers or no flowers.

With one last glance in the mirror, I grab my keys and Jamie's soup before walking out my front door. Niall Horan would just have to wait.

And wait he did.

I spent roughly two hours at Jamie's house. I made sure he ate every last drop of soup from the bowl I served him and made sure the rest was packed safely in his fridge for later or anytime he felt peckish, really. We sat and talked and I apologized again for the ass that I was the past weekend. Jamie assured me that he wasn't mad. He knew he may have said a thing or two that under normal circumstances he wouldn't have said and he was sorry for it also. I told him there was nothing to forgive and that we should just forget about the whole thing and he readily agreed. The entire time I was there I felt fidgety and anxious. I tried to hide it the best I could, but I could tell that Jamie knew something was up. I wanted to talk to him about the whole thing, tell him about the flowers and the note and the fucking phone call but after last weekend I thought better of it. I didn't need to lay all this out now. I'd better leave well enough alone. Finally, when I couldn't sit still any longer I made my excuses and left, blowing Jamie a kiss from the doorway and wishing that he would feel better.

Now that I'm driving home, I'm trying not to be nervous about the thought of calling Niall back. There really isn't anything to be nervous about, is there? I roll my eyes at myself. What am I even doing? Why do I care so much what this man thinks of me? He hasn't given me the time of day for months. Why should I suddenly be worried now? I think when I get home, I'm going to take my sweet time getting comfortable before I call him back. He can wait a little while longer. It won't kill him.

When I walk back in my apartment it holds an air of expectation inside. It's almost as if the walls around me know something I don't yet and they are giving up any information, the bastards. I shake the feeling from my shoulders and decide to draw myself a bath so that I can relax for a moment before I do anything. I go into my bathroom and start to fill the tub with steaming hot water. The mirror starts to immediately fog up. Peeling my jeans from my body, I toss them onto my made bed. I'll put them away later. I add my t-shirt to the small pile of laundry that needs to be done this week before walking back in just my underwear. Those end up in a pile beside my tub and I step into the water. A hiss falls from my lips as I sink in, the water stinging my skin but also soothing my nerves. Letting my head fall back against the cold edge of the bath, I exhale slowly and start to talk to myself out loud.

"If I'm honest with myself, the reason I'm so nervous to call Niall is obvious. Everything is obvious. The problem is I just don't want to admit it out loud. The last time I did that it didn't work out so well for me. I want to be better than these stupid, immature feelings that I have. I feel like a damn primary school girl with a crush." I pause as if I'm expecting someone to say something back then I laugh. "What am I even doing right now?"

I sink slowly deeper down into the hot water and let it cover me. Looking up through the water towards my ceiling I think, I could just never come up again, then I wouldn't have to call Niall, but all too soon a faint burning starts in my lungs and I rise to the surface. I lay my head back and let my mind wander. I need to relax for a moment, not think about anything and its then that I have an idea. I know just what will help me relax. I slide my hand beneath the water and let it drift between my legs, my fingers gently touching at first. I circle them over my center until a soft moan grows in my throat. My knees fall open as the feeling of pleasure starts to wash over me. I sigh to myself, my eyes drifting closed.

Scenes start to flash in my mind. A large pair of hands wrapped around my waist, pulling me closer. The smell of sweat filling the air. A deep moan from above me. Images of a faceless man helping to take me closer and closer to the edge. My fingers are no longer my own instead the pads that circle over my center are callused, his palms big and wide. They roll faster and faster. The muscles in his forearm flexing with each twist and flick of his wrist. Suddenly, I see a cocky grin in front of me and an Irish accent lingers in warm humid air around me.

"Ya gonna come for me, Sunshine?"

I sit straight up in the tub, sloshing water over the edge and cursing out loud. "Jesus fucking Christ. I can't even fucking touch myself without his face appearing."

I stand up and grab a towel, beyond annoyed now. I just wanted to come. That's all. Come once, feel better, then call Niall fully relaxed, but no. Do I get to do that? Of course not. Why would that work for me? I dry off slowly, still feeling the ache between my legs of almost coming. Fucking hell. I throw on an old ratty t-shirt and a pair of beat up cotton shorts and slump down onto my bed, bothered by everything all at the same time.

Why did he have to apologize now? Did it take him a full six months to realize that our chemistry was pretty fucking incredible? I don't know why the thought that it did should even surprise me at this point. We did have a really good thing going back then. Granted, it was a tad dysfunctional but boy were the orgasms amazing. I sigh, clenching my thighs together, feeling the ghost of his hands again. I could use one right about now. Especially since now I have to call him back completely worked up. I'm too annoyed to finish the job myself so this is just how it'll have to be.

"Fuck it. I'm just going to get it over with." I grab my phone from my bedside table, hitting Niall's name and pressing send before I can change my mind. It rings only twice before I he answers with a cheer sounding hello. The clench that my chest does the moment I hear him speak does nothing to make me feel better. He says hello again and I let out a breath before saying anything.

"Hi, Niall."

"Harper! One second! I was just watching the game on telly. Let me turn that off." The
background noise disappears completely. "I'm really happy you called back. I was kinda worried you wouldn't."

He really does sound relieved and the smallest of smiles crosses my lips. Dammit subconscious, can't you stay mad for longer than a second? I can almost see the noncommittal shrug coming from inside me. Of course you can't. I don't know why I'm asking. I don't want to sound eager to talk to him so I tamp down any note of enthusiasm. "You asked me to. So I did."

The sounds of him settling himself down onto something float through the phone and he sighs audibly. "Thank you for that. I know you said you got the flowers and I really hoped you liked them." He pauses there to let me speak, but when I don't say a word so he continues. "I'm sorry for what happened Harper. Sorry for calling you up drunk that night. Sorry for not talking to you for so long. Most of all I'm sorry I was ever such an idiot in the first place. You'd think that I would know better, but all the money in the world won't make me a smart man when I need it to."

His self deprecation is endearing and he makes me smile, but as I wiggle on my bed to make myself more comfortable the feeling between my legs reminds me of my previous mood and I sneer, wanting to stay annoyed. It's easier when I'm annoyed. I know what I want from him when I'm like this. Nothing.

He continues, "I just want to really apologize to you. I want you to know that I actually thought I was being funny when you walked up to me in that restaurant."

I snort out derisively. "No, you didn't. Please don't apologize to me only to lie in the next sentence. You pretended not to know me because you didn't know what else to do. Don't make it worse by assuming I'll swallow your sweet story of 'I was trying to be funny'."

Niall lets out a deep breath on the other side. "You're right. Harper, truthfully, when you walked up to me and tapped me on the shoulder I didn't know what to do. I wasn't prepared for that moment. I'm the type of guy that plans ahead for those things and when you just appeared in front of me, instead of doing what I should have done and introduced you, I got scared. I panicked and I fucked it all up. I knew I had the moment you walked out the door. But I still wasn't sure what to say or do. So I just kept fucking it up."

He sounds so sincere that it's like his words are slowly stitching up the wound he left all those months ago. But can I forgive him this easily? Can I believe him completely? Do I want to?

"You deserve so much more than I gave you Harper. I was an ass. I used you in ways that I shouldn't have. I pulled you along as if you were just my own personal toy and I never really looked at how the whole thing was making you feel. I'm sorry for that. I really, truly am."

My heart is racing in my chest. My whole body feels on edge like I'm about to make a life altering decision. Do I forgive and forget or do I say no? I close my eyes, trying to calm the nerves that are firing all at once and overwhelming me. When I open them the decision is made.

I will give him another chance. I open my mouth to tell him so when a new set of sounds comes through the phone. It's loud in his room now. The sound of laughter bouncing off the walls, the laughter of a woman. She's giggling as if her life depended on it.

"I'm sorry, can you hold on one second?" He asks of me, but disappears before I can say no.

"You are the sexiest thing!" I hear this unknown girl squeal and my stomach drops. I hear him responds with a muted thanks and she laughs back, "Of course..."

Two seconds later I hear her say in what I'm guessing is supposed to be a sexy voice, "I can't wait to get my hands on you later."

The giggling continues for a few moments more and then a few seconds of quiet conversation before the door closes and Niall comes back.

"Ya there?"

Clearly, I decided too soon.

"What the fuck Niall? Did you seriously apologize to me and then have to shoo a girl from your room? Really? I can't fucking believe I was going to give you a second chance." While I'm ranting Niall tries to interrupt me and explain what I just heard, but I do not want to hear any of it. I've listened to his excuses for too long now and I certainly don't want to hear anymore tonight. "You know what, no, you can just stop. I don't want to hear it. Bye, Niall."

I hang up the phone to the sputtering sounds of him still trying to tell me that it wasn't what I thought it was, but I don't care. My phone immediately rings, exactly like I expected it to but I am not answering. He can talk to my voicemail if he wants to say something, but to my surprise, he doesn't leave one.

But he does call again.
And again.
And again.

I throw my phone down and collapse back on the bed with my hands over my face. I am amazed that I have somehow managed to do this to myself again. I really am a fucking genius when it comes to relationships. The phone stopped ringing, but that doesn't necessarily mean he's done trying and sure enough two seconds later I hear the soft chime of a text coming in.
Reluctantly, I pick it up and read it.

"Since you obviously aren't going to answer the phone, I guess I'll just have to explain here instead."

I roll my eyes as the tiny little bubbles appear again under his words.
Great. I can't wait to read what he has to say for himself now.

Notes