September 10, 2022

Before she even opens her eyes, Nataley issues a severe rebuke to herself. As she pries one lid from its moorings of last night's mascara and discerns the curtains in Harry's bedroom at the Gerbers' house in Malibu, she is instantly aware that she's made a decision that will have multiple implications for the future.

"I promised myself I wouldn't do this again," Nat mumbles, scanning the floor for her clothes.

"Do what?"

Dammit. His voice always has this charismatic power over her. Makes her knees weak. Maybe if she averts her eyes, she can pretend she just fell innocently asleep at a friend's house. The problem, of course, is that she and Harry ARE friends, and there was nothing "innocent" about last night.

"You know exactly what." Holding the sheet to her bare chest, she gestures at the bed. "This." The regret in her voice is a fading Fresnel lantern.

Now she wishes she had looked away immediately or not glanced at him at all. His slow smile starts on the left side of his mouth as the corner there rises until his dimple deepens and the eye crinkles appear. "Oh yeah! THAT was amazing. As always."

"No, no, no. Harry, we're not falling into this again." With the awareness that her clothes are too far away to grab for dressing under the covers, Nataley is left with a difficult choice. Either she rises, fully naked, and grabs her clothes or she takes the sheet with her, leaving Harry exposed, fully naked, on the bed. Knowing her lack of willpower when it comes to this man, she throws back the sheet on her side and regally rises, her back as straight as a bookshelf. The only view he is going to get is her backside, though, as she refuses to turn around in his presence. How had they ended up back in this situation?

"Don't know what you're talking about," he grins. In the mirror across the room, she watches as he places his arms behind his neck to cradle his head. Instantly, it occurs to Nat that if she can see him in the mirror, he's getting an equally clear view of her. Ugh. Not like he hadn't seen her fully nude multiple times.

As she sorts through her clothes, she finds her bra mixed with her camisole. Twisting, she locates her blazer on a chair mingling with Harry's linen trousers. "Don't you want a shower?" He inquires as he leisurely observes her movements.

"I'll get one at home." Eschewing her panties, she draws her houndstooth pants over her thighs.

"You're not going home yet," comes his softly accented voice. She's read that he's lost some of his British accent with traveling so much to the United States, but it still makes her nipples harden.

Shit. He's right, Nat realizes. Home isn't happening for hours yet. With her upper legs trapped halfway into the trousers, she begins the process of removing them once more.

"True. I'll shower first." Scooping her clothes and holding them to her chest so that the legs of the pants trail down and hide her womanhood from him, she stabs a finger in his direction. "Alone."

His laughter chases her. In the shower, her hair piled on top of her head with one of his hair ties, she reminds herself of all the many reasons why they're just friends and no longer fuck buddies. And why their relationship failed. And why it's a bad idea to have slept with him last night. Pressing her forehead against the glass showerwall, she rubs her legs together, the delicious feeling reminding her that sleeping was not her purpose for joining him in his bed. Regardless of their history, he knows how to pleasure her, having memorized the planes of her body over time. Like a sand castle, her sharp edges have softened over time. Yet, the outline hasn't shifted with the wind. Sex with Harry always feels like sliding into a favorite pair of silk pajamas after a day of tight jeans and scratchy sweaters. Nataley should know. After all, Harry had gifted her with the most comfortable pair of silk pjs ever invented.

Fully clothed in her outfit from the previous night, sans shoes (and the underwear which she's stuffed in her purse), she returns to the bedroom, adjusting the pleats on her houndstooth pants. "We have to check on Chuck first. He's been in the condo all night alone. Probably has his legs crossed. Plus I need to change clothes. Can't wear this today without massive persecution." As Harry passes Nataley, his limp penis on full display, he leans in with lips puckered, clearly prepared for a kiss. Automatically, Nat holds a hand to his mouth in the classic stop signal. His frown appears with a simpering pout, and she continues speaking. "You know Duane will be there, right?"

"Since it's his house, I assumed he would be, but your sister and mum will be there too. Ellie and Deb like me."

Unable to argue with him, Nat turns to her phone, browsing through her text messages. "Why is it that you're the only person in the world who gets to call my mom Deb? She swats anyone who calls her anything other than Debra, and yet you consistently get away with the nickname?"

"Cause she adores me, love." With a sassy wave, he exits the room on his way to the shower.

It's only after he's disappeared that the term of endearment sinks in. "Don't call me that!" Nat yells after him.

Why hadn't she driven her own car last night? Why had she let him pick her up? It's always the first domino that eventually leads to the ultimate poor judgment. After all of this time, will she ever learn?

Emerging in pale yellow trousers likely from Gucci with a blue and yellow striped button-down shirt, Harry removes his jewelry from the nightstand and carefully places each ring on his fingers. Never taking off the cross necklace means he doesn't have to fasten it, but he raises it to his mouth and presses a kiss there anyway.

"I hope Noah likes his gift."

Feeling her heart soften at his vulnerability combined with the tender way Harry talks about her son, Nataley rubs at his back.

"He'll love it."

Glancing over his shoulder at her, Harry's eyes become somewhat watery. "I remember his fourth birthday, and now we're celebrating his eleventh. Shit. I'm old." Sniffing, he tacks on the words that hurt her heart the most. "He was almost my son."

Nope. Nope. Nope. Not going there. Definitely not going there.

"Please tell me you're not feeding his music habit." Nat uses her teasing voice as she attempts to cajole Harry from his melancholy.

Sheepishly, Harry raises one shoulder in a shrug. "It's our thing, love."

Because she can tell he's emotional, she ignores the pet name, slinging her purse over her shoulder.

"Come on, old man! Chuck is not any younger than you, and he probably needs to pee something fierce."

In the car, Nataley swerves around deep conversation like a hurdling pro. Settled in the passenger seat of Harry's black Range Rover, she reaches for the radio controls.

"Nat..." he begins whining.

"Nuh uh, H. Passenger is in charge of tunes. Them's the rules."

"But it's gonna be country," he complains.

"Damn straight," Nataley grins as she settles on Go-Country 105, cranking up the volume and singing along to the newest Kacey Musgraves.

"You know I can't resist Kacey."

"Exactly." Raising her voice, she belts out the chorus, hoping the traffic to her condo isn't too awful. Sharing space with him is always a delicious torture that she struggles to resist like an addict at her first AA meeting. Sometimes she's successful.

Last night...she hadn't been.

When Harry was announced as a guest on the show for early the next week, Nat had swallowed her emotions and created the lighting plot for his sketches with James. After all, she knows his planes and angles better than any geometrist. As the Chief Lighting Designer for the Late Late Show for the last two years, she takes great pride in creating the perfect lighting for every guest, including the supremely talented and popular Harry Styles. Tickets for Monday's show where Harry is the only guest have been sold out since mere seconds after the sale had begun.

Yesterday the crew had filmed two of his sketches with James. On Monday, the Carpool Karaoke would be recorded. Thank goodness that was out of Nat's purview.

But then the (sweet, kind-hearted) jerk had invited her to join them for dinner at Nobu. Having developed a taste for the expensive restaurant when she and Harry were a couple, she relented. Actually, Nataley hadn't seen a way to get around the whole thing, even had she wanted to. Which she definitely did not. Nobu is heaven.

"We're off to Nobu. Wanna join?" Harry had asked, gesturing towards James and Ben.

"Nah." Shaking her head, she recognized the trap. When they had been dating, she often went out to dinner with her bosses -- as Harry's girlfriend. But now it seemed weird to eat with them.

"It's not like Noah's home," Harry teased. "He's with his dad."

The fact that he remembered this detail touched her and began her slide towards the events that led up to this morning, although it shouldn't have affected her at all. The shared custody plan of Noah with his dad every Wednesday through Saturday had been a pattern since their divorce in 2014.

"Harry, it wouldn't be right," Nat had whispered, glancing over at Corden and Winston, their heads together.

"Jules and Meredith are coming along, Nataley. You want me to be the only single person at the table? It's so pathetic."

Biting her lip, she'd glanced away.

"Please?" he had begged. "They won't mind. Look, I'll prove it." And before she could stop him, Harry was calling out to the two men. "Everyone okay with Nat joining us for dinner tonight?"

When they exchanged a look and agreed, Nat again tried to back out of the invite in the most gracious way possible. Clearly her bosses didn't want her along. "Thank you so much, but I think we've spent enough time together this week."

"Never!" Harry had scoffed. "Now you're coming with us tonight. I insist."

After that declaration, Nataley nodded her head. "Okay, H. Jeez. I've got to change and let Chuck out. I'll meet you there."

"That just silly. I'll follow you home and drive you to the restaurant."

That's the moment when she should have protested more loudly. Examining that turning point as she and Harry crawl along the 101 now, she wonders at her own motives. Surely she is capable of turning down a dinner invitation, even one from the ever-charming Harry Styles? Had she known what was going to happen afterwards? Had she suspected? Had she hoped for it? Dreamed of it?

Slamming the door on those thoughts, Nat refocuses on the freeway in front of them.

"I'm going to assume you're not dating anyone right now," Harry inquires. Curious, she twists in her seat to face him. Watching him swallow, she recognizes the nervousness which might have remained hidden to a casual acquaintance. "Otherwise, you would have told me off last night."

Nataley buries her face in her hands. "That was completely consensual, H. You of all people know I would never cheat."

"But you regret it anyway?" The question has an edge sharper than the knives of the sushi chef from the previous evening.

"Do I regret experiencing three orgasms in one night? No. It's been a while since I've had even one. But I know you, H."

"Meaning?"

"Every time we hook up, you end up wanting more."

There. She'd said it. As much as it hurts both of them, the words needed to be freed from her bosom.

"Maybe not this time," he shrewdly blinks at her.

"Oh, Harry. I wish that were true. That we could simply use each other for sex when we need it. But there are reasons we're not fuck buddies anymore."

His sigh sounded like one dredged from where it was buried deep in his gut. "Yes. I remember. You know I still lo--"

"When we get to the condo, would you mind taking Chuck out while I change clothes? And I think I should drive to the party. It would look weird if we arrive together. Plus then you'd have to come all the way back here to drop off Noah and me. Seems like a waste of gas." Aware that she had interrupted him before he could once again declare his love for her (as he had done at every opportunity for the last two years), Nat stares out the passenger window, stubbornly refusing to acknowledge his words.

"Too late, Nat. We've already been photographed together. Last night. Likely that Duane already knows. As does your family. So it really doesn't matter if you arrive with me or in your crappy car."

With a "humph", she folds her arms and watches the driver in the car next to them. The woman is singing at the top of her lungs while the smoke from her cigarette pours from the crack in her window.

"Besides," Harry continues without pausing, "you know as well as I do that Noah is going to want to drive off in my car instead of yours. He's at that age where he cares what his friends think."

"Noooooo...I'm not ready for that." The wail that escapes my throat is more like the howl of a wolf than a 34-year-old mother.

The laughter that escapes my ex-boyfriend echoes through the car. Patting my knee, he squeezes it gently. "Sorry, love. Nothing you can do to stop the passage of time."

"Ugh."

Pulling into the parking lot, he presses the button to turn off the engine. Before he can say anything more, Nat pops out of the passenger side and walk towards her home. Unlocking the door, she enters to find an excited Chuck with his tail wagging his entire backside. Grasping the leash by the door, Nat thrusts it at Harry. "Please take him for a walk so I can change clothes. Besides, if you don't take him now, he'll end up peeing all over the floor. He's got less bladder control these days than a grandfather at church."

Paying zero attention to Harry's movements behind her, Nat proceeds to her bedroom and closes the door behind her, leaning on it and squeezing her eyes closed. Fuck. Hot tears prick at her eyelids, and she blinks in an attempt to clear them.

Why hasn't she been successful yet? What is the trick? The rules? Where are the directions? How does she unlove him?