London Prep: Book Two

by Dodd, Jillian

  “Sounds cool.” Harry nods.

  “Harry, can I talk to you?”

  He pauses the game and glances up at me. “Noah, take over for me?” he says, handing Noah the controller and following me out into the hallway. “What’s up?”

  And I can see it in his eyes. He’s confused. And I think maybe he’s a little hurt. Because he’s won’t look at me. In fact, he’s looking at everything but me.

  “Harry, I’m sorry about today. I freaked out, and I think I made you feel bad. I made myself feel bad. I was nervous and scared. A bit of a disaster,” I say, aching for him to look at me. For him to take my hand in his.

  And when his eyes finally connect with mine, I know I need to keep talking. “I sort of ruined the whole possibilities thing. I mean, what I’m trying to say is that I’m crazy about you, Harry. I’m really happy with us. I’m sorry I was weird today.”

  He doesn’t say anything. He just pulls me toward his lips, his hands wrapping around my waist.

  I’ve never felt Harry kiss me so desperately, but I let him.

  I let him shove his tongue into my mouth.

  Let him move his hands up under my shirt.

  This is what I’ve been wanting all day.

  An answer.

  I’ve finally stopped thinking and started feeling.

  And this, here, with Harry, feels right.

  It feels more than right.

  “I’m hoping this means you accept my apology?” I whisper against his lips, lacing my arms around his neck.

  “You have nothing to apologize for.” He kisses the tip of my nose.

  “I’m really happy to be here. In your arms.”

  “I am too,” Harry says, trailing kisses across my cheek.

  I smile at the feeling.

  “So, seems like you’re having fun in there,” I say, motioning back to the game. “Noah was all but glowing when I got here. You really have a way of putting him in a good mood.”

  Harry grins. “Well, that’s because Noah’s winning, and he’s chuffed to bits about it.”

  “That’s not very surprising.” I laugh, knowing that Noah secretly loves to win. “When’s Mohammad coming over?”

  Harry shrugs. “He shows up when he wants. But hopefully, soon, so we can order some food.”

  “Are you hungry?” I ask, bringing my lips back onto his.

  “Starved,” he replies, nipping at my lip.

  “Don’t get any ideas,” I tease, pulling away from his mouth because I’m not sure if he’s just talking about food right now.

  “Come on,” Harry says, nodding for us to go back into the sitting room. “You can watch us play until Mohammad gets here.”

  Harry sits back down next to Noah, pulling me along with him. He grabs a controller, turning it on.

  “Sounds good,” I say, making myself comfortable. I figure I’d better keep talking or risk losing his attention completely. “Well, my shopping trip with Naomi was a success.”

  “Get something hot?” Harry asks.

  “More like revealing,” Noah mutters.

  “Well, that’s some bullshit. You gave Noah a sneak peek before me?” Harry pouts. But he evidently isn’t too upset because his head stays glued to the screen.

  “Noah took a peek,” I correct, trying not to think about his attitude upstairs. “Don’t worry. You’ll both see the finished result at the same time.” I grin, knowing that my dress is adorable. “When should I start getting ready?”

  “Wait for Mohammad to get here. You can get ready together,” Noah says.

  “Fuck, that’s genius,” Harry says, turning to look at Noah with admiration.

  “Get ready with him?” I ask, confused.

  “Just wait and see. Mohammad’s worse than a girl. He’s been texting me pictures of shirts all afternoon,” Harry states.

  “It’s kind of creepy that he wants to look good for Olivia,” Noah says with a shiver.

  “I think it’s thoughtful. I mean, if it wasn’t for Olivia anyway. Besides, you two do know you have a girl here with you now, right?” I pout, wanting to feel special.

  Because it’s not really fair that Olivia is getting shiny-showered-and-handsome Mohammad while I get Noah and Harry, lying around in sweatpants with their backs to me.

  “Do I smell?” Harry asks Noah seriously.

  I watch as Noah leans closer to Harry, dipping his head down toward his armpit.

  Oh God. I cannot believe I’m actually witnessing this.

  Noah’s nose wrinkles up. “A bit actually.”

  “Well, how about a shower then, just for you?” Harry grins, shooting me a wink over his shoulder.

  “Way to make me feel special,” I say sarcastically. “So, I know that Mohammad’s obsessed with Olivia at the moment, but do you think he and Naomi would ever work?”

  “It seems like a terrible idea,” Harry states.

  “What? Noah, you saw them together at her birthday party. And how she reacted to his name at your house,” I push.

  “He could break her heart,” Noah replies, not sounding convinced.

  “Or she could break his,” I argue.

  “If you push Mohammad, he’ll bolt,” Harry interjects.

  “I don’t want to force anything. I just want to plant a seed and see if the love will grow,” I say romantically.

  “Why don’t you just see how things go? Because if they go as Mohammad plans, he’ll have his arms wrapped around Olivia tonight, not Naomi,” Noah says.

  “We’ll see about that,” I say, wondering if I can secretly sabotage his efforts.

  “You sound way too excited,” Noah says with concern.

  “Don’t judge me,” I scold. “Someone has to do something about Mohammad and Olivia. And apparently, it won’t be either of you two.”

  “Don’t meddle,” Noah fires back.

  “For fuck’s sake, shush, you two. I’m trying to focus,” Harry says before shouting at the television.

  “Ha!” Noah screams, standing up and throwing his arms over his head.

  “How the fuck do you always win?” Harry says dramatically, throwing his controller onto the ground.

  “Aw, did you lose?” I tease, giving Harry a hard time.

  “What bullshit,” Harry says under his breath, shaking his head as I hear the doorbell ring.

  “I’ll get it,” I say excitedly, running through Harry’s house until I get to the front door.

  “Finally,” I say with relief as I open the door and pull Mohammad into a hug.

  “What was that for?” he asks with surprise.

  “I never thought you would get here. You left me all alone with two competitive boys playing video games. I thought they were going to break out into a fight.” I laugh as he walks inside.

  Mohammad waves his hand at me. “Harry’s a sore loser, and Noah always wins. It’s a recipe for disaster, yet they continue to play.”

  “Yet they continue,” I agree, following him into the sitting room.

  “Hey,” Noah says, glancing over at Mohammad.

  “I want a rematch,” Harry grumbles before turning his attention to us.

  Mohammad has a large duffel in his hand, and he sets it down onto the couch, unzipping it.

  “All right, boys, the question of the night”—he pulls out two shirts still on their hangers—“red or orange?”

  “Orange,” both Harry and Noah answer seriously while I say, “Do you really think this is necessary?”

  Mohammad looks at me, offended. “Of course this is necessary. I have one shot with Olivia. I’m not taking any chances.”

  I roll my eyes, not wanting to help him or his chance with her.

  “Why don’t you go help Mallory get ready while Harry and I play one more match?” Noah offers. “Naomi ditched her, and she probably needs someone to sew her into the dress she got.”

  “You’re such an ass,” I say, starting to lunge at him.

  But all of a sudden, Mohammad’s hands are around my
waist, pulling me back.

  “I could use the help actually,” Mohammad says, tossing his duffel over his shoulder.

  “I hate Noah,” I grumble.

  “He really knows how to get under your skin,” Mohammad replies, leading me into Harry’s room.

  I whip my clothes out of their bags. “All right. So, I got this dress and these shoes,” I say excitedly.

  Mohammad nods his head in approval. “Lace is hot. Good choice.”

  “Thank you.” I smile, watching Mohammad move into Harry’s bathroom.

  He dumps the contents of his duffel onto the counter.

  “Is all this actually necessary?” I ask, my fingers shifting through toothpaste, hair gel, a comb, deodorant, and not one, not two, but three different types of cologne.

  “Good grooming is essential in wooing a woman,” Mohammad states.

  “And these?” I ask, holding up a package of condoms.

  “Oh, those are a gift for you.” He grins, his pearly whites coming out.

  I throw the condoms at him, moving out of the bathroom to grab my purse. “I’m not having sex tonight,” I call out, trying to make my point.

  I pull out my makeup bag and then go back into the bathroom as Mohammad lifts up his shirt, putting on deodorant.

  “You’re not?” he asks seriously.

  “I mean, I don’t know if I am,” I admit, applying a fresh layer of foundation. I add highlighter to my cheekbones, down my nose, and to the top of my lip.

  “Well, it’s as good of a night as any.” Mohammad shrugs, wetting down his hair before combing through it.

  “I guess. We’ll just have to see. I want my first time to be special.”

  “I thought that’s what the new dress was for,” he banters back. “Special dress. Special night.”

  “That’s a fair point.” I laugh, realizing that he’s kind of right. I pull out my eye shadow, adding on a darker color like Naomi suggested.

  Mohammad gels his hair before brushing his teeth.

  “What do you think?” I ask after putting on a thick coat of mascara. I look to Mohammad, letting him take in my makeup.

  “Not bad, Miss America.” Mohammad nods in approval.

  “Thanks.” I grin. I swipe lipstick across my lips and then run a brush through my hair.

  “All right, the second most important question of the night,” Mohammad says, holding up his colognes. “Which one?”

  He holds each one up to my nose.

  “I think that’s a little too crisp and clean,” I say, watching Mohammad’s expression as he inhales the scent.

  “I agree.” He nods, moving on to the second one.

  “Oh, I like it. It’s got a nice spicy scent to it but mixed with the freshness of maybe orange?”

  Mohammad smells it, nodding in agreement.

  “It’s not bad. Okay, third,” he says, holding it up to my nose and then his.

  “No, that’s not right. It’s way too musky. Like only a cowboy could get away with that smell.” I laugh.

  “All right, number two it is,” he says, putting the other colognes away.

  “How are we faring up here?” Harry calls out from the bedroom.

  “We’re almost done,” I say and then go into the bedroom to meet him.

  “Noah’s showering off in the guest room. And I figured once you two were done, I’d hop in the shower too. Have to get presentable for my girl,” he says, dropping his lips onto mine.

  “So, full effect is about to come,” Mohammad shouts, grabbing our attention. “Tell me your opinions.”

  He stands in the doorway between the bedroom and bath. He’s wearing the orange polo and dark fitted jeans.

  He sprays himself with the cologne before strutting out into the bedroom and giving us a little spin.

  “Oh my,” I comment, taking in his catwalk performance.

  “Look at that sexy tiger,” Harry says, giving Mohammad a growl. “You’re ready to be out and on the prowl.”

  Mohammad grins, throwing his head back. “I’m going to have to fight the ladies off tonight,” he declares.

  Though what ladies he’s actually talking about, I’m not sure.

  “I think you are,” Harry agrees. “Mohammad, order some food.”

  Mohammad nods. “I’m on it. I’ll be in the boys’ club. I need to get things set up.”

  “Set up?” I ask.

  “Pick out a playlist, line up the drinks,” Mohammad states, walking out of Harry’s room.

  “He’s way too excited about tonight.”

  “He’s always optimistic,” Harry agrees. He goes into his bathroom, turns on the shower, and then looks back at me. “Want to join me?”

  He cocks his head to the side and grabs on to the back of his T-shirt, pulling it off over his head.

  I bite my lip, taking in his bare stomach and lean body.

  “That’s not fair,” I whine, inching closer toward him.

  “Oh, how so?” He smiles, moving toward me.

  I watch his abs flex with each step, and I have to drag my eyes back up to his square jaw and blue eyes.

  “I just finished getting ready,” I say when he’s standing in front of me. I let my fingers slide across his stomach and then run them up to his pecs. “And now, here you are, standing shirtless in front of me, asking me to shower with you.”

  “You like me shirtless?”

  “Mmhmm,” I say, giving him a kiss. “In fact, I think it should be mandatory that anytime we’re alone, you should be shirtless.”

  “You know you could see more than me just shirtless in the shower,” he offers, his hands sliding across my ass.

  “You’re not playing fair,” I whisper against his cheek.

  “Good. The last thing I want to be doing is playing fair,” Harry says, picking me up.

  And all of a sudden, my legs are wrapped around him, and he’s throwing me onto his bed, his mouth coming down onto mine.

  “Shit,” I whisper, my body pounding.

  “You like it a little rough.” Harry laughs, his tongue sliding into my mouth.

  I wrap my arms around his neck, my fingers pressing into his skin.

  I kiss him back, wanting to strip off our clothes and get into the shower. But I know we can’t do that.

  Harry kisses me gently before breaking his lips away from mine. “I probably should shower now,” he says, his eyes on me.

  “You probably should,” I agree with a sad sigh. Because I don’t really want him to.

  Harry stays pressed against me for a few moments, but then he gets up off the bed and walks to the bathroom.

  I watch him as he stops, and in one fell swoop, he strips off his pants and underwear.

  My mouth falls open, taking in his naked body. My eyes glide down his tight chest to his flat stomach and long legs. I try not to gawk.

  Harry shoots me a wink before turning and hopping into the shower.

  I fall back onto the bed, gasping for air, the second he’s out of sight.

  Because. Holy. Shit.

  Harry was sort of naked the other day when we were fooling around in bed. And obviously, I’ve touched … all of him.

  But seeing him fully naked, standing in front of me, was hot.

  So hot.

  I fan myself and try to slow my breathing.

  I decide I need to do something … anything.

  I look down at myself and realize that I still need to get dressed.

  I get up and immediately pull out my new bra and underwear, deciding I’m wearing them tonight.

  Just in case.

  I take the tags off the dress and put it on.

  I’m slipping on the platform tennies when I hear a knock on the door.

  “Come in,” I call out.

  Noah steps into Harry’s room. He has on a long-sleeved black shirt, which looks like it’s getting a little too tight in the shoulders and chest but fits perfectly over his waist, and a pair of dark jeans.

  I smile at him. “Y
ou look nice.”

  “Thanks,” he replies, taking a seat on the end of the bed.

  “Harry’s in the shower,” I comment, walking back over toward my shopping bags to break them down.

  “Here, let me help,” he says, getting up.

  He grabs on to the shopping bag, taking out the tissue paper. But then his eyes slip up to mine. “It’s empty.”

  “Well, yeah. That’s why I’m folding down the bags. So, I can take them out to the recycling bin—” But then I shut my mouth, realizing what he means.

  My lingerie bag is empty.

  I swallow hard, not sure what to say.

  Noah’s brown eyes are searching my face, his gaze slipping from my eyes down to my lips and back up again.

  “What?” I breathe out, wondering what he’s thinking.

  “Nothing,” he says, taking a step back and dropping the flattened shopping bag on the floor. “You look really beautiful tonight, Mal.”

  He gives me a sad smile and then leaves the room.

  I sit down on the bed, feeling like I want to cry, but my mind is quickly distracted by the sound of the water turning off and Harry walking toward his wardrobe in nothing but a pair of boxers.

  “Any preferences for tonight then?” he asks me.

  I stand up, patting my dress down and pulling myself together. “What are you in the mood for?” I ask brightly.

  “You,” Harry says, strutting toward me. He takes my hands and holds them out at my sides, taking in my dress. “You look smashing.”

  “Yeah?” I smile, wrapping my arms around his neck.

  “Mmhmm,” he says, softly kissing me.

  Harry smells faintly of soap, and the crispness is refreshing.

  “Why don’t you go hang with Noah and Mohammad?” Harry says, pulling away. “I’ll be right in.”

  “Sounds good,” I agree, letting Harry have his room back to himself for a minute.

  I walk down the hallway, hearing Noah’s and Mohammad’s voices coming from the billiards room.

  “All right, so food is on the way,” Mohammad says as I walk into the room. He’s tossing his phone onto the couch, looking excited.

  “What did you order?” I ask.

  “I ordered a feast—burritos, tacos, chicken, veggies, guacamole. It’s going to be the bomb.”

  “Someone sounds excited.” I laugh, sitting down next to him on the couch.