No Control | Holding Me Ransom (Book 2)

94 - Pages Between Us Written With No End

The drive back to Harry's was filled with gleeful laughter and an air of recklessness.

"I didn't think you'd do it," I said breathlessly.

"I saw in your eyes you wanted me to kiss you," he replied, his eyes wide and wild. "It was a now-or-never moment. So I did it."

"I'm glad you did."

"Are you really?" he asked.

"Of course," I said earnestly. "That's it now - we're officially public. And it feels fucking amazing."

"Damn right it does," he agreed, slipping his fingers through mine and beaming at me across the back of the car.

"Congratulations, you two," said Paul, from the front seat. "For what it's worth, I'm really pleased for you both. Although I think you may have broken more than a few hearts tonight with that kiss, Harry."

"I'm hoping most people will be happy for me," he said seriously. "But I know there will be some form of backlash from those who are upset, or jealous."

"I can handle it," I said, equally seriously. "We both can."

Harry said nothing, but smiled softly and squeezed my hand a little tighter.

"Do you fancy a brew?" I asked, as Harry unlocked the front door and we entered the hallway.

"I'd love one," he said.

"You know where the kettle is," I teased, and squealed as he chased me into the kitchen and pinned me against the fridge, his hair falling in his eyes as he gave me an exaggeratedly smoldering look.

"Well well, this is all too familiar," I murmured as he leaned forward and kissed me.

"Nah," he murmured, as he broke away from my lips and kissed my neck. "Little White Lies isn't playing. I should have had it ready for when we arrived home."

"You could always give me a personal serenade," I joked, and he chuckled a low, throaty laugh against my skin.

"Never in a million years. That would be way too corny."

"Says the man who sang 'What Makes You Beautiful' to me in front of a stadium full of fans," I reminded him, and he lifted his head to grin at me.

"Yeah, well, that was different. That was stage Harry, not... y'know, normal Harry."

I giggled and kissed him on the lips, before pushing him away from me and walking over to switch the kettle on. I pulled two mugs out of the cupboard and Harry leaned on his elbows on the breakfast bar watching me.

"You look good in my house," he observed. "You look good with me."

"I should damn well think so."

"I'm serious."

"So am I."

He sighed exasperatedly, and I laughed in delight as I poured the water into the mugs, added the milk, squeezed out the tea bags and set his cup in front of him. I took a seat opposite him and he looked up at me with amusement as I reached forward and twirled one of his dark curls around my index finger.

"Your hair is so soft," I mused.

"Will you miss it when I cut it?" he wondered. "It's probably long enough now to donate to a wig charity. And I'll need to chop it all off if I get this part in Chris Nolan's film."

"When's your next audition for that?" I asked.

"I'm meeting them again on Friday to do another reading," he replied, and I nodded thoughtfully.