Chapter 6

Disclaimer:  No copyright infringement is intended.  This is a story.  Bex and the plot line are mine.  95% is fiction, 5% fact.

Enjoy the one with the elevator...

                                                               Right Now

                                                                Chapter 6

8:17 pm, March 30th

I’m standing in a crowded elevator wedged between three men.  Literally sandwiched.

The one at my back is bald and smells like the complimentary hotel soap.

The one to my left is discussing his “missuhs”, Sophia, and how much he misses her. He smells like some fancy hybrid men's cologne and it works. Really damn well.

I nod at the news she will be joining him for some of the European dates and immediately my forehead hits the chest of the third man.  

Like I said...I’m lodged between the three of them.

“Sorry,” I apologize softly. Personal space is thrown out the window. Not that I’m going to complain. He smells amazing. Or as Gray would say, “bloody delicious.”  I recognize the scent from the dressing room in Johannesburg.  Tom Ford.

“No worries,” he responds in that deep tone of his.

I didn’t intend on being jammed between Harry, Liam and Dale. It just kind of happened. We stepped into the empty car and descended a few flights before a huge group from a wedding party joined us. Dale shoved me into the space between the two guys to keep an eye on all three of us.  

The elevator stops and the doors open.  I expect to be able to turn and step off but a soft “bloody hell” from Liam tells me someone else is trying to get on. Dale’s body pushes back forcing me even further into Harry.  In order to avoid another nose to chest collision, I turn my head.  A warm hand is placed on the bare skin of my back.  I can feel the smooth metal on his fingers.

An involuntary sigh leaves my soul.

“Are you alright? You seem a bit warm?” Harry asks me.

I’m not about to tell him that he is the reason I’m warm, so I just nod against his chest.  My cheek rubs against the soft materials of his jacket and dress shirt.  Something about this boy...man...whatever... makes my stomach flutter. I don’t think it’s a good thing.

 

“Dale, you have to get us off this lift. It’s like a can of pilchards in here,” Harry’s voice rumbles in my ear.  

“On it.”

“Just another minute or two, Bex,” Liam says, his head cocked toward Harry’s shoulder so he can see me.

“Ok,” I answer. Harry’s hand rubs against my skin a few times and then stops abruptly just above the waist of my dress.  My body stiffens.

The elevator dings announcing the next floor and Dale’s voice cuts the chatter in the compartment.

“Excuse us.  Could you please move to your right, we’re exiting.”

I feel Liam graze my arm as he steps between my body and Dale’s, “Pardon me.”

“There’s no room to turn Rebekah, trust me?” Harry asks quietly when I have just enough room to look up at him. I nod slightly in agreement.  “Just step back. I’ve got you.”  His hands grip my forearms gently as I move back awkwardly.  We make it a few steps before the heel of my shoe catches the track for the door.  I feel myself start to fall back.  

“Oh shi...”

“Whoa there,” he says as his arm wraps around my waist and pulls me back into his body. My hands firmly grip the material of his dress shirt.  He lifts me clear off the ground and looks down.  I feel his right leg brush against my thigh.  As I glance over his shoulder,  the elevator doors close.  He sets me down gently and smiles.

“Safe and sound, yeah?”

“Yes, thank you.  I thought I was going to fall on my ass,” I laugh awkwardly.

“You’ve got one hell of a grip on my shirt, love...”

“Oh!” I say releasing it.  I swipe my hands down the shirt a few times to try and get the wrinkles out before adjusting his jacket.. “I’m so sorry.” I can feel the tell tale warmth on my cheeks as I blush in embarrassment.

He chuckles, “No worries. Let’s get your shoe.”  He kneels down and takes hold of my ankle.  Liam appears next to me taking my arm for stability and hands Harry my heel.

“In ya go, Cindereller,” He says slipping it on my foot. “Cute toes.”

Cute toes? My toes aren’t cute! I hate my feet. Feet are gross. I hope to god he doesn’t have some kind of foot fetish.

“Do you want to wait for another elevator or take the stairs?” Dale asks.

“I think the stairs will be less crowded,” Harry answers as he stands.

“Think you can do them in those heels, babe?” Liam asks touching my arm again.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine,” I nod.  

Dale leads us toward the stairwell exit and we make it down the five floors to the lobby.  He opens the door and guides me out toward the restaurant.  Paddy and Cal are talking at the Nobu entrance.  

“There you are! We were discussing sending a search party,” Cal laughs offering me his arm.

“We ended up in a very crowded elevator. Harry’s one hundred and fifty chest hairs and I are thoroughly acquainted now,” I laugh.

“Really? You counted them?” Harry asks behind me.  

“No, but if we spent anymore time in that damn box I’m sure I could have,” I laugh as I turn to look at him. He’s looking down his barely buttoned shirt. “You better watch where you’re going, H,” I warn him just before he runs into a waiter.

“Oh! Excuse me,” he says seriously to the young man.  

Cal snickers and pats my arm, “He’s H now?”  I don’t know what to say. It just came out.

We’re guided to the fairly secluded table and find Louis, Niall and their trainer, Mark, discussing the safari they went on during the day.  The three stand as we approach and Cal pulls out my chair. Once I’m seated, all the men settle in.

“I thought Lou was coming too?” I ask Cal when he hands me the drink menu.

“She’s putting Lux down and spending a bit of time with her boyfriend. He flew in this afternoon.”

We all decide on our drinks and our entrees.  Niall and Louis balk when Mark suggests they eat something a little healthier than “Fish and Chips.”  

The men discuss their days while I take in the restaurant. The modern decor matches the resort and is lit in a serene yellow tone.  The waiter places my Nigori Colada in front of me and continues around the table, bringing my attention back to the conversations going on around me.  Harry raises his Cucumber Martini in toast to the tour.

“Here’s to the next leg of On the Road Again! Rebekah, thank you for coming out and helping Calvin,” he says smiling at me. A chorus of “Cheers” and a few “Oi Oi’s” are heard as the rest of our party raise their beer bottles.  

They tell me some stories about Cal during their prior tours.  He and Harry seem to have the closest relationship.  There’s a warmth and adoration between the two as they share things with me.

Our waiter returns with some help and begins delivering our food. Cal and I have both ordered the Shrimp & Lobster with Spicy lemon dressing.  Louis and Niall look perplexed by their “fish and chips”.  

“Where’s the chips?” Niall asks picking up his plate and looking under it comically.

Mark is pleased that the plate is a bit healthier than the boys wanted.  Liam spears a piece of his Rock Shrimp tempura and moans.  Harry drops his napkin in his lap and arranges his Black Cod den Miso and shiitake mushroom salad on the table.

The conversation turns to business matters as the boys discuss the European leg.  They head to Dubai after the show here Wednesday.  They’ll then have roughly two months off before performing at a summer radio festival in London.  They’ll have eight dates in Europe and then on to the U.S.

“So, Julian thinks we could use Chicago as a hub to finish the album,” Harry says after we’ve ordered another round of drinks.  “It’ll be central to the Canadian and Midwest dates.  We can fly in fairly easily after a show.”

“Sounds good to me,” Niall says tapping his Kirin bottle against his band-mates’ martini glass. “They got good pizza there.”

“Have you decided what you’ll do after the tour finishes?” Cal says looking at each of the boys.

“Yeah. We’re pretty sure,” Louis says looking at me for a moment and then to the boys.  “We’ll be having a meeting to discuss everything once we get back to the states.”

The way in which he says this peaks my interest, but it is clearly something that won’t be discussed in depth in front of me.  I am an outsider after all. They may accept me as a friend of  Cal, but I am a member of the press.

“Apologies, Rebekah,” Harry says across the table. He smiles gently at me.

“Please, You don’t need to apologize. I understand completely.”

I do. I really do. They probably have to guard everything they do, every decision made.  When you’re the biggest boy band on the planet, everyone wants inside information. Luckily, they got the one member of the press who doesn’t want or need it. I’m not a paparazzi. I’m not an entertainment reporter. I photograph war and natural disasters.

We finish our drinks and the boys play rock, paper, scissors to determine who pays the tab.  Niall wins the first round.  Louis, Liam and Harry play the next round with Harry winning by using fire. I’m not sure it’s a legal move, but the other two boys concede. Louis and Liam go a few more rounds.  In the end, Liam is stuck with the rather large bill.  I pat his back as he slips his credit card back into his wallet.

“It’s alright, babe. I’ll write it off on the business expenses,” he laughs.

Louis and Niall talk Paddy and Mark into a few more drinks at the hotel bar.  Liam decides he’d rather call his girl and heads off in one of the elevators.

“I’m gonna head up to the room. God knows what shape Louis will be in when he comes up. I’d rather be fast asleep with earplugs in,” Cal mentions as we linger in the lobby.

“Go ahead and take your room back. I’ll grab my bags. I’m pretty sure I can tune them out tonight,” I say hoping to persuade him to return to his original room with Harry.

“Nope. I said I’d take the room and I will,” he shakes his head at me. He pulls me into a hug.  “Go have a drink with them. They’re quite entertaining when they’ve had a few more than necessary. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“But...”

“I’m going to take a walk around. I haven’t seen much of the hotel. Care to join me?” Harry says quickly.

“Um...” I say looking between them.

“Go on...” Cal says shooing me toward Harry. “There’s an art exhibit or something on the mezzanine.”

“Okay.”

Cal heads toward the elevators as Harry gently guides me toward the staircase leading to the first floor mezzanine.  

“I read something about the gallery here. It’s for the Lalela project. From what I found, they help underprivileged kids,” Harry says as we ascend the stairs.

I stop on one of the stairs and remove my heels. I wear them because I have to not because I want to.  I catch up quickly, the cool wood on my feet feels amazing.  

“...thinking about going and seeing what they do...” Harry continues.

“I’m sorry. What were you saying?”

He pauses on the next step and looks down at me, “Why are you shorter all of the sudden?”

“I took off my shoes. Heels aren’t the most comfortable shoes in the world. You were saying?” I say showing him the shoes.

He looks at me for a moment. Those green eyes of his penetrate you. Like they can see into your soul or something. There’s an uneasy feeling in my stomach and I have to look away.

“Um...” He says softly and then continues up the stairs. “I...I’m going to try and go and see the project tomorrow. Maybe spend some time there.”

“That sounds like a wonderful thing to do. Will you have a hard time getting around?” I ask as we get to the landing. There’s amazing and colorful artwork hanging on the walls.  

“I’m pretty good at sneaking out,” he says as he heads toward a piece of artwork. He stops and looks at it for quite a few moments while I take a walk around looking quickly at all the pieces.

“Look at this one,” he calls out to me.  Making my way over, I find him looking at a black and white piece. It’s a woman playing a trumpet in negative affect. “I like this one. It’s cool.”

“Yeah, it is...” I say taking in the piece. It’s almost calming in nature.

We spend the next half an hour or so walking the gallery.  The silence is comfortable between us.

Once we’re back in the lobby awkwardness sets in.

“I’m going to head up and check on a few things for tomorrow,” Harry tells me.

“I think I might take a walk outside. Seems like a nice night.”

“Oh...maybe I’ll walk with you,” he says shoving his hands in pockets of his jeans.

“You don’t have to. I know you have things to plan. I’ll be fine,” I say waving him off.

“I don’t think I feel comfortable with you walking the grounds by yourself.” He heads for the front doors of the hotel.

“I’m perfectly capable of handling myself, Mr. Styles,” I say with a little more volume than needed. “Besides, the front door probably isn’t the best idea.  There might be some fans out there.”

That stops him dead in his tracks. He turns back and shakes his head at me, “I’m sure you can take care of yourself, Rebekah. I would just feel better if you weren’t walking by yourself this late.”

“Oi! Look what we have here...It’s Hex!”  We’ve acquired company.

“Wot...Hex?” Harry asks his properly drunk band mate. His brow is furrowed making him appear angry.

“Harry and Bex...Hex!  Just came up with it me-self,” Louis laughs. “Where are you two off to?”

“I was going to take a walk around the grounds,” I answer watching Louis sway a bit. He has this cute crinkle eyed smirk on his face.

“Oh...well. You shouldn’t be walking out there on your own, love! I’ll go with you!”

“You’re properly pissed. You’re not walking anywhere with her. You’ll get us kicked out of the resort with your yelling,” Harry says shaking his head.  

“Fine, fine. I’ll go back to the bar. Niall and Mark are working on ideas for the where we going today videos. Be careful, Bex,” Louis waves as he goes back to the bar.

“That was kind of rude...” I tell Harry. “I’m going out the door by the restaurant.” I don’t wait for him. He wasn’t nice to Louis at all and it bothers me.

The cool night air hits me as i push the door open and step out.  The halter dress I wore for dinner is obviously not suitable for a walk around the grounds. I turn to make my way back in but Harry is blocking the door while he texts someone.

He pockets his phone and looks at me for a moment.

“It’s a bit chillier than I thought,” I say rubbing my hands up and down my arms.

“What kind of a gentleman would I be if I let you freeze to death,” He says before slipping a piece of gum into his mouth.  He removes his coat and steps towards me.

“I’m sorry if I seemed rude to Louis. He just gets a bit intense when he’s drinking. He has quite a mouth on him,” he adds as he slips the jacket onto my shoulders.

“You just seemed angry at the idea of him walking with me,” I respond. “You were the one who didn’t want me to walk by myself.”

“Trust me. I’m not angry. You’ll know when I’m angry,” he says as he peruses the grounds.

The door opens and Dale appears.

“Do you want me to follow behind or anything?” Dale asks him.

“No. I think we’ll be OK. I’ll see you in the morning. I want to take a trip into Cape Town,” Harry says stepping away from me.  The jacket is big on me and smells just like him.

“Alright, H.  Good night, Rebekah,” Dale calls before walking away.

“Thank you for the coat,” I say softly.

“You’re welcome. Shall we head this way?” He points loosely to my left.

“Sure.”

“After you,” he says before stepping slightly behind me.

We walk for a few minutes in silence. It’s not uncomfortable but I still feel I should apologize for getting upset with him.

“I’m sorry I got upset with you about Louis.”

“No worries,” he says shaking his head slightly.

Another couple appears further down the walk, laughing between themselves. An uneasy feeling takes over me. I suddenly want to be laughing like that with Harry. The couple approaches and steps toward the right of the sidewalk. Harry places his hand on my back and steps behind me.

“Good Evening. Nice night, no?”  The man says, his accent is french.

“Bonsoir. C’est beau,” Harry says behind me.

I stop quickly at the realization he just answered them in French. This causes him to run into me.

“Everything alright, love?”

The couple laughs and bids us adieu.

“Your french is good,” I smile at him.

“I do better in France,” he smirks. “Do you speak any languages?”

“I’ve learned a few standard phrases to get by,” I smile.

“Ah...Where’s the toilet? How much is this?” He laughs.

“More like... Puis-je avoir un verre de vin?” I joke.

“Well...a glass of wine is important,” he says smiling at me.  

We continue on our path for a few minutes. The night sky is clear but the wind has picked up a bit.  I worry that he might be getting cold.

“Are you alright?  Do you need your jacket back?”

“No, I’m good,” He answers as we pass a hotel employee. “May I ask you a question?”

“Of course,” I slow my stride so that he can walk beside me.

“How did you get into photojournalism?”

“Well, my dad is...was a filmmaker. Documentaries specifically.  I’ve always liked taking photos.  I always had a camera with me. I’m that friend that documented all the stupid stuff we did. I decided instead of following in my dad’s footsteps, I wanted to be a photographer. Knowing you can’t always make a living that way, I took some film courses too. When it came time for my internships, my dad contacted a friend of his. One internship turned into another...” I smile thinking about my internship with Ben.

“How did you meet Ben?”

“He was the friend. He interned with my dad at BBC 1.  They became great friends and my dad called in a favor. Although, Ben says it was just paying it forward. He was adamant about helping me. He became a pseudo member of the family, which is why I call him “Uncle Ben”.  He then introduced me to Cal.”

“Your internship with Cal was our photo shoot?” He says as he allows me to step ahead on the small bridge leading to one of the smaller private islands on the property.  We stop in the middle and he leans on the rail looking out at the water. I lean with my back against the bridge.  

“Part of it, yes.  After that, I ended up taking a very low paying job at Time Magazine in New York.” I pull the jacket closer and look up at the sky.  The moon is partially obscured by some clouds.  

“Is that where you live? New York?” He asks as he runs his fingers through the top of his shoulder length hair.  The action draws my attention back to him and leaves me a little spellbound. “Rebekah?”

“Sorry...Um... No, not anymore.  We moved there when I was six. I moved to Boston after I graduated.”  Moving to Boston was an impetuous and stupid decision on my part, but I wouldn’t change it for the world now.  

“You work for Time still?” He turns and leans back on the railing with his arms crossed.

“Mm hmm...” I nod. “They sent me with one of the photographers on an assignment and he got sick. He couldn’t even get out of bed. He was so worried they’d fire him so he sent me out to cover the story.  Luckily, when we got back he admitted the photos weren't his.  They loved what I took and gave me a contract.  Next thing I know, I’m all over the world.”

It was an unbelievable stroke of luck. Jean-Luc could have said the images were his and there wasn’t a damn thing I could have done about it. He was the well known photographer. I was the lowly assistant.

Deciding not to impede on anyone’s privacy, we head back down the bridge.  We’re further from the main hotel than we thought.  We both think it’s a good idea to return.  He still has plans to work out and I’m feeling tired.

As we reach the patio, the sky opens up. It comes down quick and hard.  I laugh at the sight of him. His hair is plastered to his head. He looks at me in annoyance.  I throw his jacket off my shoulders and toss it over my arm. I pull it closer to my torso trying to save it from getting too wet. The drops are warm against my bare shoulders. Running a hand through my hair, I can feel the drenched strands against my back.

“You don’t look so good yourself!” He growls before stopping in place and raising his face to the sky.  He lifts his arms straight out and seems to revel in the feeling of the rain on his skin.

The sound of a vehicle distracts him from the enjoyment.  I turn in the direction of the noise and see a golf cart with no light flying towards me.

Only a moment before the cart reaches us, Harry pulls me out of the way.  Personal space seems to be an issue for us. His arms grip me tightly to his soaked chest.

“Fook,” he says, his breath hot against my forehead. “That was bloody close, Bex!”

It’s the first time he’s called me that. The sound of it coming from his lips isn’t unpleasant. I try to catch my breath and look up at him.  

His eyes search mine leaving me unsettled. He reaches up and pulls a wet strand of my hair from my cheek. Pressing his other hand firmly against my back, he pulls me in a bit closer.  I stutter out a breath.  Traitorous body.  

I pull away and wipe the rain from my chin, “I’m cold. I think we should get back to the room.”

Harry searches my face before looking away from me, “Yeah, probably a good idea.”

Once we are safe from the rain, I start for the elevators.  I expect Harry to follow, but find myself alone as I step in. I search the lobby and find him talking with Paddy and Niall’s security, Basil.  He glances up briefly toward the elevators but turns away quickly when he sees me.  The elevator doors close and I sag against the wall. His jacket is still across my arm so I straighten it out, not wanting to leave it wrinkled for him.  For the most part, it’s dry, but I decide to hang it up when I get back to the room.  

The ride is quick and thankfully, alone.  After I enter the suite, I look for a hanger for the jacket.  Finally finding one in my room, I slip it onto the wood. Not wanting to invade his personal space, I hang it on the door jam of his room.

I return to my room and disrobe before grabbing something to wear to bed. I shower quickly to warm up.  There’s still no sign of my ‘roommate’ when I return to the living area and prepare a cup of coffee for myself. There’s a ton of messages from Emily and Grace on my phone, so I end up sitting down on the couch and read through them while I finish my drink.  

Author Note: Ugh....why can't they just kiss already? I'm being threatened with a lawsuit if they don't kiss in chapter 9 (which is 11 pages in as we speak)... Don't anyone get any ideas. I own a tablet, a phone and a car. The bank owns everything else and someone else's name (hubster) is attached.

Hope you enjoyed! Leave me some love, would ya??? ~ Lady H xo