Chapter 21

Disclaimer: No copyright infringement intended. All rights reserved.

Bex, her friends, and the plot are mine. The concerts are real. 95% fiction. Please don't steal other people's work. Be nice to nice. Apologies for taking so long to get this out. Another Bird has been occupying my brain. If you'd like to read about that, please be sure to read the author's note at the bottom.

Enjoy!

Trouble On My Mind

(originally by The Ikettes)

Chapter 21

April 6, 2015

“Christ...my hand is killin’ me like!”

“Quit shouting...”

“I can’t believe you punched him!”

“Would you two please stop yelling?” Grace whispers next to me.

“Your breath is atrocious,” I whisper in her ear.

“Your’s isn’t roses either, love.”

“Why do I smell coffee?” Em sits up, holding her head with one hand. The other is bandaged up against her chest. “Do you two smell coffee?”

Somehow, the three of us ended up in my queen size bed.  Grace is smushed between Em and I. I sit up a little too fast and immediately have to lay back down. They both chuckle and then groan in discomfort.

“And let’s try that again, shall we,” I whisper and slowly sit up. The room only spins for a second and then rights itself.  “Oh my god...it’s too bright. Where’s the baseball bat?”

“Last I saw, it was in your closet,” Gray answers with a moan.

I stand on wobbly legs and walk slowly toward my walk-in. Feeling around, I find it leaning against my shoe rack. The girls appear suddenly in front of me.

“Fuck! Don’t sneak up on me! I could have taken a swing at ya’ll,” I complain pushing past them. Yes, sometimes when I’m anxious my mother’s influence shows.  Emily quietly opens the door and motions for me to go first.

“Yeah, cheers! Let me take one for the team...Christ,”  I shake my head and heave the bat up into perfect batting position like my dad showed me.

I hear the rattle of utensils being moved in the kitchen. I turn to the girls and place my finger over my lips.  They both nod like lemmings. I make my way down the stairs slowly, trying to avoid the creaky ones. I don’t want to alert the intruder. Then it dawns on me...Why would someone break in and then make coffee? We’re all a little slow on the uptake this morning thanks to the whiskey!

I lower the bat, but continue to walk cautiously through the living room.

“Put the Louisville sluggah down, love...”

“Daddy?!?!?” I yell surprised to see my father in the kitchen.

“What kind of welcome is that, Love? Coming at your dear ol’ dad with a baseball bat?” He says turning toward me. “Rough night?”

I move to lean the bat on the wall and am knocked over by my roommates.

“Jesus Christ...you three look like you’ve been to a two week hen do!” He laughs. “How’s your hand, Doc?”

“Punched a man...” She smiles smugly before kissing him on the cheek.

“Ya alright, Ewan?” Gray asks hugging him as she makes her way toward the tea pot.

“That I am, Grace.”

I finally make it up off the floor; not that any of them were bothered to help me.

“What are you doing here?” I ask hugging him.

“Rebs dahling,  You smell like you just walked out of the Jameson plant.”

“Sorry, Daddy,” I roll my eyes. I get my love of whiskey from him.

Ewan Oliver took his oldest child to his favorite pub for her twenty-first birthday; introducing her to the world of whiskey. I couldn’t sit up the next day, but it was a hell of a good time.

“Daddy...answer the question.”

“Oh...got a phone call about midnight from Mick. He said ‘our girls are causin’ trouble’ and suggested I get up here. So, I kissed your mother goodbye and drove up. Unfortunately, I missed the party. Mick followed me with the Doctor Fisticuffs and NotSoGraceful here after the medics left,” he laughs while stirring what I assume were eggs in a pan on the stove.

“I don’t remember anything...”Gray moans from the table.

“I remember him walkin’ in and then throwin’ the punch like...after that...not a ting so,” Em adds with a hiccup.

“Hopefully he won’t be calling a solicitor,” my father says giving the three of us a look.

“Christ...” I say as I look through my phone.

“What’s doin?” Em asks stirring creamer into her coffee.

“Dimples...”

“Fooking hell,” Gray says wide eyed.

“I’ll be right back,” I swipe the cup of coffee off the counter my father had just set down. I settle on the bottom step of the staircase and check the time.

It’s already nine a.m. there.  Taking a chance, I push send and listen as it rings.

And rings...

Ending the call, I scroll through the texts I didn’t answer.

H: Are you still awake, Tog?

Fifteen minutes later...

H: I wanted to see your beautiful face. Call me if you are still awake.

Twenty minutes later:

H: Rebekah? It’s after midnight here. Fading fast. Call me in the morning.

8 a.m., my time:

H: Are you alright? Thought I’d hear from you last night.

9 a.m.:

H: I’ve barely been to sleep. Going to workout. Call me if you want.

Twenty minutes ago:

H: I hope you’re not avoiding me.

Deciding a text might be the next best course of action, I start to type out a response and immediately delete it all. How do I explain that I got drunk and ended up in a bar fight? With the last person on earth I ever wanted to see?

I’m sorry, Harry. I went out with the girls. Got home pretty late and didn’t want to wake you. x.

When he doesn’t reply back after a few minutes, I head back to the kitchen.  A plate of toast and eggs sits waiting for me. Grace looks up at me as I set my phone on the table. I shake my head as I lift the coffee cup to my mouth.

“Now that we’ve all got a proper cuppa...who wants to tell me why the lovely psychologist punched your ex-boyfriend?” His tone is the same one he used when I broke the neighbors window.

I was playing baseball with some of the boys in the neighborhood.  Jeremy White threw a good pitch and I hit it dead center, sending it straight into Mrs. Flannery’s front window. He was fit to be tied. Sternly telling me I’d have to work to pay him back.  Mrs. Flannery thought it was amazing that I hit it that well. She loved baseball and told me I should be the first girl to play baseball professionally.  I got a paper route to pay for the window and promptly quit once I paid dad back.

The three of us look at each other. None really wanting to explain why Em had hit Mateo. My dad sighs and shakes his head.

“This is serious, girls. Doc could lose her license if Mateo files charges. What happened?”

None of us thought of that.

“He was hitting on me,” Grace says abruptly. I almost choke on the sip of coffee I’d just taken.

“Ye don’t mess with your ex-missus’ friends, Ewan,” Doc adds to the story.

My father nods his head and looks to me, “Is that your story? You’re going to stick with that?” I should have known my father would smell bullshit a mile away.

“Yes, Daddy. He was hitting on Grace. We had a little too much whiskey and things got out of hand.”  He smiles at me and shakes his head. None of us say another word about the events of last night while we finish eating.

“Well, best be going. Your mother worked a long shift yesterday and is preparing our Easter dinner. A nice bottle of white wine is suggested,” he comments before he loudly scrapes his chair against the floor.

“Yes, Sir,” I nod with a groan.

Guess we’ll be taking a trip to New York today...

~</3~

“Quit looking at it!” Grace yells at me from the back seat.

“I think it’s broken,” I sigh.

“It’s not broken.”

I toss the phone onto the console, “Then why hasn’t it rang?”

“Maybe he’s busy,” Emily says rubbing my arm.

I check my mirrors and signal that I’m changing lanes. The phone buzzes and I veer over sooner than I wanted to.  Screaming, I swerve back into my lane.

“Jesus Christ, Rebekah! You’re trying kill us!” Gray says punching me in the arm.

“Never hit the driver! Never!! I could lose control!” I yell back. She rolls her eyes at me. “Em! See if it’s him!!!”

“Right! On it!” She drops it in a hurry to see who it is.

“Woman!”

“It’s fine. Calm down and drive,” she says unlocking it.  “No...just Nate.” She tosses it back onto the console.

“Thanks,” I say quietly and signal for a second time. Not interested in anymore conversation, I stay silent the rest of the ride to my parents. Twenty minutes later, my mother opens the door of my childhood home.

“Well I’ll be!  If it isn’t Larry, Moe and Joe Frazier,” she laughs.

“I am not Moe,” Gray rolls her eyes at me. “Must be you.”

“Watch it, Mama. Em’s got a great left hook,” I joke kissing her cheek.

“Good to see you, shugah. Come in, girls. I made sure we have plenty of moonshine to nurse those hangovers.” Her drawl is slow and soft today. She’s tired.

The thought of alcohol makes the three of us groan. We had a hell of a time finding a wine in the liquor store. They were giving away samples of new beverages and just the smell had us turning green.

“Here’s the wine, Janelle,” Em smiles. “I’ll stick to water tonight so.”

My father appears in the doorway of the kitchen, “Ah, you look better loves...I think you all need to stick with water.”

“Yes, Sir,” the three of us answer.

“Grace, Emily...you two go rest your bones,” my mother says grabbing my hand, “Shugah B, you come help your momma in the kitchen.”

Thankful to not have to help finish preparing the meal, the girls follow my dad into the family room. They’re already laughing with him as I pull on one of momma’s ridiculous aprons.  This one is a curvy body in a bikini.  

“I bet you got a lot of use out of a bikini like that in South Africa,” my mother comments on it. “How was it?”

“It was alright. A bit different from my actual job,” I answer tying the strings at my back. “The area was beautiful.”

“I hear you had a roommate,” she says stirring the glaze on the stove. Her tone is cool.

The comment makes me hesitate for a moment.

“Who told you that?” I ask, trying to be nonchalant while I make my way over to the counter.

I pick up a sweet potato and begin peeling it.

“Oh, a little bird...”

“Momma, that bird is not little. Remind me to send Ben some birdseed.” I shake my head knowing that it was him. “Is that why you were upset on the phone yesterday?”

She sighs and sets down the spoon, “Rebekah Elise...”

Oh Christ...she’s used the middle name. I set the potato down, knowing she wants my full attention.

“Yes, Momma.”

“You do know how old he is? Do you think it’s a good idea to be getting involved with such a young boy?”

“Have you met him?” I ask defensively.

“No, but Ms. Hopkins down at the grocery store says he’s just a baby. Did you know he was so young?”

“Yes, he’s twenty-one, but I think he’s got an old soul, Momma.”

“An old soul...” she tsks.

“I’m not going to argue Harry’s age with you. Besides, I don’t even know what this is between us. We’ve only known each other a week,” I say returning to my task. I peel the potato skin roughly.

“Yet you’ve managed to lay with him.” She sounds like every one of my grandmother’s church friends.

The comment hits me hard. Apparently my mother thinks I’m some harlot having sex with a child.

I drop the potato and pull the apron over my head. I toss it over the kitchen chair and turn back to her.

“You spoke to Charity Hopkins about me and Harry?!?!”

“Rebekah, I don’t know anything about this boy. She’s young and knows things. I don’t think you should be having sex with him. If your grand mama knew... she’d send you straight to confession. I tend to agree with her,” she looks back at the glaze and stirs.

“Thanks for that,” I snip at her. “Girls! Come on. We’re leaving!” I yell making my way to the front door.

“REBEKAH ELISE OLIVER...” I ignore my mother yelling at me and step onto the front porch.

“Grace, Emily...either you come now or you’ll have to take the train home,” I yell back into the house.  

My mother appears, hands on her hips. The girls stand cautiously behind her.

“Rebekah, stop this.”

“No, Mother. You made an assumption about me, which is wrong, truth be told. I won’t sit here and listen to you assassinate my character over someone you don’t even know,” I growl at her.

“Did you or did you not have sex with him?”

“Even though it’s none of your business...No, Mother. I did not have sex with him!”

“Janelle, Bex...I think we should all just calm down,” Emily says stepping between the two of us.

“I’m leaving, Doc. Either you two are coming or you can stay here.” I look between the two of them.

“Maybe we should just sit down, have a proper cuppa and relax. We’re supposed to be celebrating Easter,” Grace adds.

“Stay then.” I practically run to the car after gathering my purse and coat.  I can see the four of them watch as I pull out of the driveway.

I make it a few blocks and park the car near one of the parks I used to play in. There’s children playing, mothers chatting and enjoying late afternoon coffee.

I remember the times my mother would bring me here. I was so shy because of my accent. She wanted me to have friends and not worry about how I sounded.  She told me when she first moved to England with my dad, people would laugh when she spoke. They’d mimic her accent behind her back.  When they found out how funny and sweet she was, they obviously all loved her; the pain of being laughed at for being different stuck with her.  She never wanted me to feel that way. Her opinion of me now breaks my heart. I cry into the sleeve of my sweater

My phone buzzes in the pocket of my jeans. I ignore it. When the phone rings incessantly for five minutes, I decide to look at it. Harry.

“Hi.”

.

“Tog...what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” I answer not wanting to bother him with what happened. “I’m sorry about last night. The girls took me over to the pub. It ended up being later than I thought when I got back. Were you able to sleep at all?”

“Okay,” he answers with a sigh. “I slept after I worked out. Can I see your face, love?”

Knowing I’ll have to explain where I’m at and why I’ve been crying, “I’m not decent.”

“Even better, Tog,” he laughs.

“Can we do it another time?”

“Rebekah, you sound upset. It isn’t something I’ve said is it?”

“No...it’s nothing you’ve said,” I inadvertently admit that there is something wrong. I smack myself in the forehead. His face appears on the screen. He’s man-bunned and absolutely gorgeous.

“Come on, Tog.”

I check my face and hair before switching on the camera.

“There you are, love. You’ve been crying.  Where...where are you?” He squints. “Are you driving?”

“No, I’m parked. I’m in New York.”

“Everything alright?”

“Just...” I look away from the phone, “a family Easter celebration.”

“What aren’t you telling me, Tog?”

I sigh and bite my lip as I watch him on the screen. He gives me a smile and a wink.

“Ben told my parents that we stayed in the hotels together,” I blurt out quickly.

“Truth is always good,” he shrugs his shoulders.

“My mother thinks I’m a whore.” I look up trying to hold back the emotions welling up.

“Why on earth does she think you’re a whore?”

“Because you’re a twenty-one year old boy and I obviously slept with you,” I answer shaking my head. “It’s...whatever.”

“You told her we didn’t, right?”

“Of course, not that it’s any of her business. I’m a grown woman, Harry. You’re a legal adult,” I wave my hand trying to brush it all away.

“Still, the thought of your mother thinking something like that about you...”

“Yeah,” I nod at him.

“We both know you’re not. Deep down she probably does too. Maybe she’s upset that you weren’t the one to tell her about us.”

“I don’t know,” I shrug my shoulders at him.

“Would it help if I called her?” He asks wide eyed.

“God no! Oh my...no...that would probably make it worse,” I laugh.

“Okay,” he smiles at me. “I miss you.”

“I miss you too,” I say softly.

“Are you going to just sit there...” he squints again at the screen, “watching children play in a park? Or are you going to go back to your parents?”

“I’m not entirely sure.”

“Well...do you need some company for the ride to wherever it is you’re going?”

“You’re in LA,” I laugh through a sniffle.

“I know, but I can stay on the phone with you.”

“Harry...It’s a three hour drive.” I say making my decision.

“Tog...I’m not exactly worried about the phone bill.”

My phone buzzes with a text and it pops on the screen.

Doc:Unlock the doors...

I look in my side mirror and see the two of them laden down with containers of food. I have no idea how they found me.

“The girls are coming.”

“Will you call me when you get home?” He asks batting his eyelashes.

“I promise. The minute I park the car.”

“Bloody hell...we’ve walked miles to find you!” Gray yells after opening the back door. “Ooop...apologies Mister Styles.”

“Hello, Grace,” he waves at her. “Be safe, Tog. Beintot, L’ Amour...”

“Qariba, alhubb,” I smile at him.

“Wot? Say that again...”

I repeat the phrase for him twice. I blow him a kiss and end the call.

“What was that?” Emily asks as she buckles into the backseat.

“I said ‘soon, Love’ in Arabic.  That’s the only language I’m fluent besides English.”

“I sense this becoming a thing between you two, love,” Grace smiles at me. “By the way...you’re mother is very upset.”

“She can be upset all she wants,” I respond while I check for traffic before pulling out. “Let’s just turn up the music and have a nice trip home...shall we ladies?”

Grace flips through my phone and laughs, “Oh that’s their whole catalog!! Like you don’t own it too!” She teases in an American accent. ‘What Makes You Beautiful’ begins playing.

“Oh jaysus...we’re goin’ to listen to them all the way home?” Emily moans from the back seat.

“Why yes...yes we are,” I smile and sing along.

~</3~

“Westlife was so much better,” Emily argues as I park the car.

“No...Take That was much more popular,” Grace growls. “Explain this to her, B.”

“I’d prefer to stay out of this,” I roll my eyes at the windshield. “I don’t even know who you are talking about.”

“Surely you’ve heard of Take That...”

Stepping out of the car as she opens her door, “Nope. Can’t say I have.”

“You’re a One Direction fan and you’ve never heard of Westlife or Take That?” Emily stares at me.

“I’m not a fan of One Direction,” I laugh. “I just happen to be...attracted to one of its members.”

“You’re a fan if you own their albums, Bex.”

“I think you’re a fan of Harry’s ‘member’,” Emily laughs almost dropping one of the containers of food.

“You have to have had said ‘member’ to be a fan of it,” I quip opening the front door while balancing a small pan of Au gratin potatoes.

“Now we’re getting somewhere,”she laughs. “So...you’ve really not had sex with him...”

“She came home smelling like she did...” Grace says seriously as she bypasses me. She turns on the oven before turning back to me. “Being a journalist and having amazing investigative skills...”

“This could be the biggest story of your career, lass,” Em laughs.

“Breaking News at ten...Harry Styles sends photojournalist home with a smile...”

“Fuck off,” I laugh.

“So you’ve not had a boy band dicking...” Gray smiles as she uncovers the pans on the counter. “You must have at least seen the ‘member’ in question...perhaps you’ve participated in a blowie?”

“No.”

“You didn’t even suck the poor boy’s wang?” Emily asks seeming disturbed.

“No.”

“Did you at least give it a firm handshake, love?” Grace sounds considerably disappointed.

Just to tease them a little, I give them a smirk, “Um...” They both smile broadly at me.  “No, no handshake.”

“Bloody hell, Rebekah!  What is wrong with you?”

“Please tell me you didn’t get off on your own with such a specimen in the vicinity?” Emily looks completely gobsmacked.

“Nooooo....”

“If I spent a week with Brad Pitt, I would tell you about it!” Grace yells throwing her hands in the air. “Did you at least kiss the boy?”

“Yes. We shared a kiss or two...”

Grace shoves the pans into the oven and brushes past me. Scrounging through our junk draw, she produces a pen and paper.

“You’ve snogged him,” she writes on the pad.

I giggle, “That’s what he called it.”

“Shush,” she growls. “You’ve not participated in manual or oral stimulation of said member of One Direction.”

“Have you at least seen it?” Emily smacks the counter in anger.

“Yes...”

“Thank Mary and the saints for that,” she moans.

“You didn’t masturbate...” Grace adds on to the page.

“For god’s sake, no...”

“I’m confused as to how you came home smelling like a porn star doused in Tom Ford...”

“Lucky I guess,” I laugh at the two of them.

“Oh my gawd...did...did he feast on you, Rebekah Oliver?” Grace looks at me. Her already large brown eyes even bigger.

“No.”

“Did you sleep with Cal?” Emily asks bluntly.

“Cal?!?!!  No! He’s married with children!”

“Then what happened??” They both yell at me.

“You aren’t going to let this go, are you?”

“I suppose I could always take your phone and ask Dimples Galore myself,” Emily adds reaching for the phone in my back pocket.

“Don’t you dare!”

“We used to tell each other everything!” Grace cries into Emily’s shoulder.

“I’ll be old and dead,” Emily adds sniffling.

“You two are the worst,” I moan. “You know I don’t handle guilt well.”

“You’ll be married with children still saying it’s immaculate conception. I’m single, Rebekah. I must live through you,” Grace mumbles.

“For god’s sake...” The two turn and give me the worst pouts I’ve ever seen. “Fine...fine! He got me off!” I yell and turn bright red.

“Well now...” Grace smiles. Not a tear track down her face.

“You weren’t even crying you, minger!!!”

“She’s blushing,” Emily laughs.

“You two are the worst best friends ever.”

“So...tell me...does he ‘strum’ well?”

Embarrassed as hell, I nod.

“Bloody hell...He’s got long fingers...I knew it.” Grace smiles.

“Can we stop discussing this. I have to call him back.”

“You know...it’s not polite to get off and not return the favor,” Emily cackles. “Go give him some verbal stimulation.” She pushes me out of the kitchen. “I’ll knock three times about ten minutes before supper.”

“I really hate you two right now,” I growl as I climb the stairs.

~</3~

I change my clothes and pull my hair up into a bun before calling him back. Still embarrassed, I decide not to face time him.

“Hello, beautiful,” his voice is soothing. I can hear Pink Floyd in the background.

“A little ‘Dark Side of The Moon’, H?”

“I love this album; used to listen to it in the car with my dad,” he says with a fondness in his voice I’ve only heard a few times. “Did you drive home or stay at your parents?”

“I’m home,” I answer quietly.

“Don’t fight with your mum because of me. Please promise me you’ll call her and straighten everything out?”

“I will. Just...not tonight.”

“Don’t let it stew on, Tog. Our mothers are the most important people in our lives.”

“I know,” I answer. “I’m just hurt that her opinion of me is so low.”

“It might not be that her opinion is low. She must hold you in high regard if she feels you might have made a mistake,” he states seriously.

“A mistake? Why would sleeping with you be a mistake?”

“You tell me, Rebekah.”  His voice is slightly harsh. How did this turn into an argument between us?

“Harry, sleeping with you wouldn’t have been a mistake. I’m just not ready. Don’t take my choice not to like that. I didn’t sleep with him quickly either. It’s important to me. There has to be a connection for me.”

“I thought we did have a connection?”  He sounds hurt and confused.

“Believe me...there is. So much happened between us last week. It scares me, if I’m honest,” I finally admit to him. “The ease of how we just fell into things...we talked about this.”

“It scares me too.” The idea that he’s just as scared as I am comforts me a little.

“How was your evening?” He asks in an effort to change the subject.

“It was fine,” I say with no emotion in my voice.

“Did something happen? You sound like you don’t want to talk about it.”

I should tell him. Mateo is a loose canon on a good day; he could end up reading about it in the papers. That’s how much of an asshole my ex-boyfriend is.

“We went to the Pub, spent some time with Emily’s uncle and...” I swallow out of anxiety. “Mateo showed up.”

“Did he now?”

“He did. Emily punched him.”

“I think I like Emily,” he chuckles darkly.

“He’s the reason we were at the pub,” I admit softly.

“Did you know he was going to be there?” His tone isn’t accusatory but it’s not exactly happy either.

“No. I didn’t.  Em and Gray were never told the full story about what happened with Mateo the last night I saw him. We were talking and...” I have a hard time admitting we were talking about what they think I need to do.

“Rebekah, you don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to,” he sighs.

“They think I should tell you what happened. That I should let you in,” I blurt out.

“I’d like you to let me in, but that’s something you have to decide on, Tog.”

“I know. Anyway, I told them what happened and we decided to go to the pub for a few drinks. It wasn’t the easiest thing to tell them.”

“I don’t like the way that sounds, Rebekah.”

“It’s okay. Uncle Mick came over and felt we were way too plastered. He was going to call a cab for us. Next thing we knew, Mateo was walking in and Em decked him. I don’t remember much after that. I woke this morning to my dad making breakfast and a hangover.”

“Did Mateo say anything to you?”

“He said hello. I wasn’t avoiding you. I just was so drunk, I never heard my phone going off. I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright. I was worried about you. How’s Emily’s hand?”

“She has to go to her doctor tomorrow. I think she’ll be OK. We’re just worried he’ll press charges. She could lose her medical license.”

“If he gives you any trouble, let me know.” His voice is dark and a bit scary to be honest.

“Harry...”

“I’m serious, Rebekah. I know some of the best solicitors in the world. I’ll make him go away,” he growls.

“I just want him to go on with his life so I can go on with mine.” That’s all I want. I don’t want to run into him in social circles. I don’t want to work with him. He left Time not long after that night. I sigh heavily, “Can we stop talking about this?”

“Have you looked at the schedule yet?”

I put him on speaker and look through the dates. He’s in Los Angeles for quite some time.

“You’ll be writing and recording?”

“We will,” he says softly.

“I don’t want to bother you,” I sigh.

“Bother me? There’s no way you could bother me.”

“You need to focus on the album.”

“Are you saying you don’t want to see me?”

“Of course I want to see you. I just don’t want to get in the way of your...creative process,” I wave my hand in the air as if he can see me. I hear a phone ringing in the distance.

“Just think about it. Figure out a few days that work for you. I can even come to you,” he says and then groans. “I have to go. I’ll call you tomorrow?”

“Okay. Have a good night.”

“To be honest, I’m off to meet Kendall. She’s been relentless since I landed.”

“Oh,” I answer quietly.

“Rebekah, don’t be like that. She and I are friends. Nothing more. I’ll text you when I get back. Alright?”

“You don’t need to check in.”

“I know I don’t. I’m going for a quick drink with her to tell her about us. That’s it. I’ll let you know how it goes. Beintot, amour,” he says quickly as I hear the distinct clip of his boots.

“Soon, H.”

~</3~

After a thorough gorging on my mother’s cooking, the three of us settle once again in my bed.

Three pairs of pajamas, cups of warmth inducing beverages and my laptop.  Both ooh and ah at the photos from the Johannesburg and Cape Town.

“Shite, he’s cute,” Em giggles at a photo of Niall. “Look at those blue eyes.”

“Emily, love. You’ve never seen Mullingar’s golden boy?” Gray laughs.

“I know who they are, but I wouldn’t have been able to pick him in a pub,” Em says shrugging her shoulder.

“Louis’ my favorite. Although, I’ve been known to fancy Liam or Harry a time or two,” Gray smiles at the screen.

“Louis? Really?” I ask a bit surprised. “I took you more for a Liam girl. You’re so...”

“So what? He’s got a nice bum...”

“He’s very sweet actually,” I say absentmindedly as I stare at one of the pics of Harry.

“You’ve got it bad,” Em snickers next to me.

“Shut up. I do not!”

“You’ve been staring at that photo of him for about five minutes,” Gray adds.

Rolling my eyes, I flip to another picture.  

We continue this way for the next hour until my phone rings. I grab it up and answer without looking at the screen.

“Hello?”

“Becky.”

“How did you get this number?”

“You forget I still work in the photography business. I asked around.”

With a sigh, I put the call on speaker. Raising my finger to my lips, I look at the girls.

“What do you want, Mateo?”

“I had a visit today...”

“With a mental health professional, I hope.”

“You’re cute. No. Nate showed up here.”

“Why the hell would Nathan come see you?” I ask flabbergasted.

“He wanted to make sure I wasn’t going to press charges on your friend.”

“I haven’t even spoken to him. How would he have known about that?”

“That’s what I’d like to know. Tell your brother to back off or I will,” he growls into my ear. “I’ll make all of this a living hell for the three of you.”

“Go about your life, Mat. Leave me out of it. I’ll tell him to not bother with you,” I say flatly.

“I gotta tell ya...you looked pretty good last night. Better than the last time I saw you.”

“Yeah, no thanks to you. I think we’re done here.”

“How was Cape Town?”

The question sends chills up my spine.

“We’re done here. Good night,” I snip and end the call.

“How the hell did he know you were in Cape Town?” Gray asks sitting up on the bed.

“I don’t know...”

“Do you think he’s watching you?” Em asks looking between the two of us.

“I don’t know.” I shake my head.

Author Note: 
Well...it's been a while. I hope you enjoyed this one. 
As some of you know, I have been writing an extension of a one-shot I posted originally on Wattpad. It's called "Love Will Take You". Daria, the main character, has pretty much taken over my head. The first chapter is posted on tumblr, @ladyhstyles1. The first 5 chapters are on Wattpad. You can find me there at @LadyHStyles 
xx ~ Lady H