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The evening had begun innocently enough. After partaking in a few pre-drinks with Gemma and her boyfriend, the foursome left Harry’s car safely tucked in the garage and continued to the small speakeasy in Soho. The first tequila shot Kit had shared with Gemma had burned, much like the ones she shared with Harry on New Year’s, but the second one gave her the boost of confidence she was lacking for the night. The half shot, a sip from the flask Gemma had insisted on bringing along, gave her another boost of confidence and a bit of a saucy feeling. Though her eternal angel reminded her that she may do something she would regret if she drank too much, her neighbour, the Devil, wasn’t overly concerned.

Harry didn’t need to have alcohol flowing through his body to want to touch Kit, and the liquid courage made it nearly impossible for him to keep his hands to himself. He’d found her hand numerous times since stopping at Gemma’s, and while Kit was always the one to pull away, each time he touched her, she held onto him for longer than the last. He knew he was still officially second fiddle in her life, but if he had his way tonight, he would be bumped to first.

“This place is absolutely amazing,” Gemma chirped happily, settling against the plush cushions of the vintage couch tucked into an alcove at the small speakeasy. The group had to venture down a dark alley, up a loading dock and pretend they were picking up a delivery before being instructed to enter the bar through the old-fashioned fridge in the corner of the “warehouse”, where they met up with the rest of the invitees. The vibe of the lounge was on point and the patrons instantly felt as though they’d been transported to 1920s Chicago. Harry was pleased the seating was cozy lounge furniture – it made it easier to get comfortable with Kit than if they were stuck on barstools.

“It’s lovely,” Kit agreed, leaning forward and grabbing one of the cocktail menus off the low coffee table. The first thing she noticed was how the menu looked like an instruction manual for one of the appliances the “warehouse” upstairs may sell. Cute, she thought. The second thing she noticed was the cost of the drinks, and she tried not to look shocked. With the cheapest drink being fifteen pounds, Kit set the menu down, her bank account deciding on water for her.

“What are you getting?” Harry asked Kit, reaching out to take the menu for himself. When she didn’t answer right away, Harry look up at Kit, her expression embarrassed and the adorable flush on her face apparent, even in the covertly dim room. He reached over, tickling her leg just above her knee. “Hmm?”

Kit shifted uncomfortably. While Gemma’s friends seemed to have conventional careers, and Harry was the only one with an atypical job, no one else was balking at the cost of the cocktails. Kit didn’t want to stand out as the poor student, but knowing the exact double-digit balance of her bank account hindered her ability to treat herself. “Oh… uhm, I think I’m just going to stick with water,” she told Harry, punctuating her decision with a casual shrug.

Seeing the cost of the drinks, Harry knew why Kit had decided to order water. Her decision tickled him – usually when Harry was at a party, the other guests unashamedly assumed they would order on his tab. The cost didn’t bother him, but the flagrant expectations did. He liked to be asked. He would give Kit anything her heart desired, and her assuming she was required to buy her own drinks was not only completely inaccurate, but incredibly heartwarming.

Harry stretched his arm across Kit’s shoulders, tugging her closer to him. He leaned in, lowering his voice as he spoke so as to not humiliate her. “Kit… get whatever you want,” he told her, giving her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “It’s on me. Really.”

“Oh…” Kit faltered, glancing up at Harry. He was so generous, it was almost surprising. He didn’t have to be. And while Kit was far from an expert at boys buying her drinks in bars, Harry’s offering had a boyfriend vibe to it – which would be great, if Kit’s own boyfriend wasn’t an hour away, tending to his ill mother. Though, she wondered why she could justify the hand-holding and couch-cuddling and not a couple of overpriced cocktails. “You don’t have to do that…”

“I want to do that…” Harry murmured to Kit, his fingers absentmindedly twisting around a lock of hair cascading across her shoulder. He wasn’t intentionally trying to get Kit drunk, but hoped a couple more drinks would help her forget about her douche of a boyfriend and think about the guy who actually wanted to be with her. “Please? You didn’t get me a birthday present…” he reminded her, two weeks too late, an exaggerated pout on his face.

Kit scoffed loudly, laughing at Harry’s bogus pout. She touched her fingers to his dimpled cheek, teasingly pushing him away. “Pretty sure I sent you, like… a dozen birthday memes,” Kit reminded Harry, the feeling of his fingers combing through her hair making it hard to resist him. She broke their gaze, looking down at the menu on his lap. Maybe one – or two – wouldn’t hurt.

“Yes, and they were fantastic,” Harry teased back, sheepishly remembering how his heart jolted each time a picture text came through from text, and how he’d hoped it was one of her. He knew Kit wasn’t the kind of girl who would send those kind of pictures to him, though, and while he grudgingly respected it, it didn’t mean he didn’t want them. “But I think you and I having a drink together would be a far better birthday present…” he added brazenly, letting his words hang in the air. Kit could pick up on them however she wanted to.

Kit kept her head down, examining the menu, but she smiled at his words. She was – almost – certain she could handle him. “Well… I guess if you insist…” she commented slowly, pointing to a drink on the menu. “Happy birthday to you,” she added sarcastically, looking up and meeting his eyes.

Harry beamed, pleased Kit was not only going to loosen up and get silly with him, but didn’t pick the cheapest drink on the menu. “Happy birthday to me…” he echoed her words softly, untangling his hands from Kit’s hair only to pass the menu across the table to his sister, who had a curious smirk on her face. Harry hadn’t had a heart-to-heart with Gemma about his feelings for Kit. She was almost completely in the dark, but knew Kit had a boyfriend. Judging by the look on her face, that fact was the prominent one in Gemma’s mind.

~*~*~*~

As the drinks continued to flow, Harry’s hand had taken up residence on Kit’s knee, offering sporadic light squeezes and gentle tickles. Kit’s legs were crossed; her heel tapping absentmindedly against Harry’s shin. The gin coursing through their bodies wasn’t making it easy to keep their hands to themselves, and the rest of the party noticed. Given his spot in the limelight, Harry wasn’t generally a fan of PDA – especially with someone else’s girl – but Kit was his missing puzzle piece, and he was completely connected to her. And, he was fairly certain he hated Kevin and wanted to hurt him just how he’d hurt Kit. Maybe more.

Kit leaned forward, placing her drink cup on the coffee table. “I’ll be right back,” she said, intending on telling the group but her focus just on Harry. He smirked at her, leaning forward and tickling the back of her knee as she walked by – though he was tempted to grab her just a bit further north.

Harry watched Kit disappear into the ladies room, suddenly feeling lonely without her beside him. It was a silly thought – she would only be gone a moment – but he adored being near to her. He rocked forward, trying to focus on the story Gemma was telling, but only able to keep his focus on the hallway, waiting for Kit to reappear.

Gemma’s boyfriend leaned forward, wiggling his eyebrows at Harry. “Looks like you found yourself a fun little thing,” he teased, his comment inciting a smack from Gemma.

“Yeah, except she’s someone else’s fun little thing,” Gemma commented, raising an eyebrow at Harry.

“What’s that mean?” Noah wondered, Gemma’s comment going over his head.

Gemma scoffed. “She’s got a boyfriend,” she informed him. Harry sighed quietly. He knew bringing Kit would bring up questions about their platonic-but-borderline-something-else relationship. He just wished he knew the answers – not just for his friends, but for himself.

Noah coughed, nearly spitting his drink out of his mouth. “Seriously?” he asked, pausing to mull over the revelation before cracking up. “Feel sorry for that bloke,” he chuckled, clearly not judging the situation as much as Gemma was.

Harry scowled. He didn’t want Kit, or her joke of a relationship, to be laughed about. “Shut up,” he told Noah. “The guy’s a real dick to her. Don’t feel sorry for him.”

“Then why’s she with him?” Noah asked with a disbelieving scoff.

Harry exhaled loudly. “I… have no idea,” he confessed. “She says he’s not as bad as he seems, but… couldn’t prove it by me. He didn’t even get her anything for Valentine’s Day,” added Harry, the lack of recognition of the holiday on Kevin’s part still infuriating Harry.

Gemma was quiet, looking up at Harry as he spoke about Valentine’s Day. “But you did… didn’t you?” she asked her brother.

Harry responded silently, looking down at his hands. “Well… I mean…”

Gemma jumped up. “I’m gonna go ask her what her deal is!” she announced. Harry and Noah both groaned loudly, shaking their heads in unison at her.

“Sit down,” Harry said irritably. “It’s not your business.”

Gemma sighed dramatically but obediently sat down. Harry knew she would have a hard time keeping her mouth shut once Kit returned, though. After nearly an eternity – or a couple of minutes – had passed, Harry jumped up and strode towards the washroom door. He was intending on just waiting for Kit, but feeling cheeky and a bit drunk as he approached the door, he brazenly pushed it open.

“Hello!” he called out, mimicking a woman with a high-pitched voice. Why did the ladies rooms always smell so good?

Kit jumped, startled by the sudden break in the quiet of the room. She turned off the faucet and peered around the wall against the vanity. Laughing loudly, she shook her head at Harry.

“What are you doing, dork?” she laughed, grabbing a handful of paper towel from the basket between her sinks. He grinned at her, his smile causing a slew of butterflies in her stomach. She was already feeling high from his touches on the couch and the drinks she’d had, and his dimpled grin didn’t aid in ceasing the feeling. As he sat down on the plush bench in the middle of the room, watching her dry her hands, it was all Kit could do to not jump on him.

“I missed you,” Harry told her teasingly, though a massive amount of truth behind his words. He propped his chin in his hands as he watched Kit, feeling slightly perverse being in the washroom with her, but also enjoying the comfort level he felt with her – and hopefully her with him.

“Oh, did you?” asked Kit, matching Harry’s teasing tone but feeling giddy at his words. “It was a long couple of minutes, huh?” she asked sympathetically, playfully nudging his shoulder and deciding against telling him she’d peed as quickly as she could, just to get back to her perch on the couch under Harry’s arm.

“So long!” Harry wailed dramatically, hoping she knew that, despite the dramatic tone, he was serious. He grabbed Kit’s hand from his shoulder as he stood up, lacing his fingers through hers. “Come on an adventure with me,” he told her, tugging on her arm as he pushed open the washroom door.

Kit obliged, letting Harry lead her out of the ladies room. She’d go anywhere with him without question, but it didn’t mean she wasn’t curious. “Where are you taking me?”

Harry smirked at Kit over his shoulder, keeping quiet as he walked her towards the French doors leading to the small, covered patio. He’d spotted it as soon as they’d entered the lounge, but being February, he didn’t think it would be appropriate to suggest the entire party move outside. The only other person who would be nuts enough to sit on a patio during a UK winter would be Kit.

“Voila!” Harry announced, gesturing with flourish as they stepped onto the patio. The L-shaped sofa wedged into the corner looked to be made from wood pallets, and covered in an eclectic mix of fabric. A string of outdoor lights hung haphazardly around the perimeter, casting a soft light around the deck.

“This is your idea of an adventure?” Kit teased, plopping down on the inviting sofa. She didn’t mind, of course. She was happy to be alone with Harry.

“Could be…” Harry mused, sitting down next to Kit and resting his arm along the back of the couch. “Could be the best adventure…” he added, completely insinuating that him and her could be the best adventure, and hoping she realized it. He stopped talking, looking up at the patio door opened. He felt annoyed by the interruption until he realized it was their server, dutifully bringing Kit and Harry a refill. It was one of the perks of being him – everyone was always quick to wait on him.

“Could be…” Kit echoed quietly as the server disappeared back into the lounge. It really could. Kit took a small sip of her drink before smiling sheepishly at Harry. “You really didn’t have to buy these for me,” she told him, knowing full well he would argue with her. She wanted to reiterate to him that she appreciated the gesture and didn’t expect a thing from Harry. Something told her it was rare for him to be appreciated.

“I know,” he answered, taking a sip of his own drink. “But I wanted to. I like doing nice things for you…” he added, wanting to remind her that no one else did nice things for her, but deciding to keep Kevin’s name off his lips and out of Kit’s mind. “And I like to see this cute little rosiness,” he added flirtatiously, reaching out and gently rubbing his thumb against Kit’s cheek, flushed from both her emotions and the liquor.

Kit’s face warmed at Harry’s touch, and she looked down, just briefly. She could feel his gaze still on her, and it was unavoidable. Meeting his eyes, she pressed her lips together gently, subconsciously drawing Harry’s attention to them. “I can’t help it if you make me blush,” Kit mumbled, forgoing the straw and taking a big gulp of her drink.

Harry looked at her, an amused smirk on his face. “I make you blush?” he wondered playfully, knowing he had a part in her red cheeks but wanting to keep them red. “Why’s that?”

Kit closed her eyes for a moment before swatting Harry’s arm. “Because… you know you do!” she told him with a quiet snicker. He made her feel like a child on the playground – which, being just eighteen years old, it was understandable why she would feel as such. The feelings brought on by Harry were new, exciting, terrifying… and wrong, she kept reminding herself. Very wrong.

“I think you’re adorable when you blush,” Harry told Kit honestly. It was his turn to feel his face heat up, and he tried to rid the sensation with a sip from his glass. “I think you’re adorable all of the time, actually. I… I think you’re beautiful, Kit…” he confessed to her, the heat in his face not subsiding, only growing.

The word had never been used to describe Kit – maybe by her father, when she was little, but even that was a stretch. She didn’t think she could believe Harry’s words, but he sounded so sincere, she wondered if he really was, and really thought she was beautiful. She looked up at him, his eyes bright and innocent, his cheeks as crimson as her own. She wasn’t the beautiful one – he was.

When she didn’t answer him right away, Harry tucked his drink against his knee, reaching out and enveloping Kit’s hand with both of his. “You really are…” he told her again, begging her to believe him. It killed him that she didn’t see what he saw, that she’d lived her entire life thinking she wasn’t pretty enough, wasn’t good enough. He was desperate to show her that she was… she just had to let him.

Impulsively, Kit shifted her position, surprising Harry as she tucked against him, resting her back against his chest. It surprised her, too, but she felt such an incredible pull towards him as he spoke his sweet words, she couldn’t stop herself. She let out a shaky exhale as Harry silently wrapped his arms around her small body, his fingers trailing up and down her bare arms. She let her hands rest against his forearms, holding him to her as though he would bolt at any moment. In her mind, he would.

For what felt like hours, neither of them spoke. Harry kept his hands on Kit, absently drawing shapes against her skin. There was so much he wanted to say, so much he wanted to do. He didn’t want Kit to feel bad but he needed her to know how much their relationship and unanswered questions were affecting him. He knew it was his fault for getting in so deep with a girl who wasn’t available to him, but how could he not?

Unable to keep silent any longer, Harry spoke up, his voice sounding loud against the quiet of the evening. “Kit?”

“Yeah?”

Harry exhaled softly, his arms tightening around Kit as though he was scared she would bolt with his next question. “Are you going to let me kiss you tonight?”

Harry’s question didn’t surprise Kit as much as it should have. It was almost as though she was expecting it. And nothing about her response to him surprised her either. “Yeah…”

He didn’t expect her to answer affirmatively. He was waiting for a vague answer, or a denial, or an excuse. For a split-second, he didn’t know what to do. He snaked his arm around her waist and nudged her, urging Kit to face him. When she obeyed, he offered her a shy smile, tucking a lock of her hair behind her ear.

“Really?” he asked in a hushed voice, searching her face for any sign of hesitation or rethinking the situation. But all her saw was her sweet smile, adorable flushed cheeks and downcast eyes. He gently lifted her chin with his finger, needing to see her eyes.

Kit nodded, knowing there was no going back from this moment. But she couldn’t think of anything she wanted more. She took Harry’s hand in her own, squeezing gently. “Kiss me.”

Harry let out a sighing laugh, his free hand resting softly against Kit’s neck. He pulled himself closer to her, her face blurring as he ducked his head. Slowly, carefully, as though he was trying to avoid spooking Kit, he kissed her. Softly at first, their lips simply held hands, until the intensity began to build. His lips parted hers, and he could feel her body trembling against him.

Wild tremors cascaded through Kit’s body, his touch arousing sensations she never knew were possible. She gripped Harry’s hand tightly, her other hand knotted into his shirt, pulling him against her. Her eyes squeezed shut, afraid to open them and find it was all a dream. Her heart pounded against her chest, surely about to burst. Finally, she understood. She felt as though she was melting against his body, two becoming one, and knew this was what kissing was all about.

Harry dropped Kit’s hand, needing both of his to pull her against his body, onto his lap. He opened his eyes, wishing to see her beautiful blue eyes staring back at him as their lips hungrily danced, but he was met by her furrowed brow, closed eyes. He kept his open; admiring her mismatched eyebrows, the smattering of chicken pox scars across her forehead, the sporadic freckles across the bridge of her nose, inhaling as they kissed. Her shampoo, her body lotion and something else sweet that was just so deliciously her met his senses and he wanted to breathe her in, drink her up and never let her go again.

They kissed for eons; the sun surely had risen and set hundreds of times before their lips separated, their lives completely changed. Gingerly, Kit opened her eyes, her tongue pressing against her chapped lips. She looked into Harry’s eyes, unable to rid the smile from her face. Without saying a word, she nestled her head against his shoulder, feeling his protective arms still circling her.

Oh, the things he wanted to say to her. He wanted to tell her how he couldn’t imagine not ever kissing her again, how he’d been waiting for that moment for longer than he could remember, and how it was better than he could have ever imagined. He wanted to tell her he was falling for her. But he couldn’t, not yet. Instead, he kept his arms around the girl of his dreams, holding her against the cold and knowing he would protect her against anything.

Notes