Chapter 13

The next morning, I wake up before him. I was already expecting to start the day with a mild headache, but fortunately there isn't one. I actually slept very well and didn't even wake up once during the night, which is the first in a long time.

I stare at the ceiling of the room, thinking about last night. A smile creeps onto my lips when I think about how he helped me getting rid of my hiccup and then even gave me a piggyback ride to his house.

The woman, he is clearly interested in, can count herself damn lucky about having him in his life, because I am, and I am just his friend. Having gotten to know him, I know that he will cherish this woman and do anything he can to make her happy. I can't wait to meet her, because he spoke so highly of her. Hopefully she and I will become friends too.

When I turn my head to the side, I notice Kal standing next to me with his head titled to the side. He puts one front paw onto the mattress, and I turn my body so I can scratch him behind his ear. This makes him lick over my hand and I giggle because it's tickling me. I can hear Henry stir behind me.

"Good morning," he says with his voice deeper than usual. Kal immediately walks over to him. "And to you too Kal. Have you been keeping Charlotte company? Good boy." The way he talks with his dog makes my heart melt a bit. The clear tone of love and appreciation in it.

I turn my body to look at Henry.

"How did you sleep?" he asks me and rubs his eyes with the palms of his hands.

"Pretty good," I yawn and stretch myself. "Sorry for being like that last night."

"Oh please, you don't want to see me, when I am drunk. You needed a night of debauchery."

"But you once told me that you don't like it when people get drunk."

"That's not what I said. I told you that I don't like it, when people drown their problems with alcohol. You were enjoying yourself yesterday. There is a difference in that." I sit up in his bed and scratch the back of my head. "What would your thoughts be about coffee and breakfast?" he asks me as he gets out of bed and yawns loudly.

"Sounds amazing to me," I tell him and stretch my body again.

"But wait, you don't drink coffee, you drink that swill watered down by milk," he mocks me, and I take one pillow to throw it at him, but it lands a couple of inches in front of him on the floor. "Oh, now you are already resorting to pillows," he jokes as he picks it up and throws it back at me. I catch it and let myself fall back on the mattress.

"I didn't hurt you, did I?" he asks me immediately and his voice is laced with worry. When I don't answer, he walks over to my side. I take the pillow with both hands and hit him with it against his abs.

"You shouldn't have done that, Charlotte," he laughs but there is a certain undertone in his voice that I can't decipher. He takes the pillow out of my hands and then he removes the blanket from my body. Immediately his hands are on my side, and he starts to tickle me.

"I yield," I tell him between fits of laughter, and he lets go of me. He has a bright smile on his lips and stretches one of his hands out. When I take it, he pulls me out of bed. I let go of it as soon as I stand.

"Let's get breakfast," he says and nudges my shoulder with mine.

"I'll brush my teeth first though. I don't like the taste of food without having it done first."

"Sure, that's usually what I do anyways. Do you want to use the bathroom first?"

"Yes." He notices me looking at my cloths that I folded yesterday and put away in the corner of the room. I'm definitely not looking forward to wearing them again, especially without underwear.

"Do you want me to call one of my assistants to get you something to wear?" he offers, and I look at him through squinted eyes.

"Wouldn't be a first time again, I assume," I joke, because he probably has done that before. I see him taking a deep breath.

"Actually, it would be. Well, what do you say?"

"You don't have to have your assistant run that sort of errand for me."

"He is picking up my new suits from the tailor. I think he wouldn't mind stopping somewhere else on his way here," he tells me.

"I would need to wash them before wearing. So, if you don't mind me using your washing machine and dryer in the bathroom, I will just throw my clothes from yesterday in there."

"Sure, while you do that, I'll get started with coffee and breakfast," Henry says and turns around to walk down the stairs to the second floor.

When I am done brushing my teeth and loading the washing machine, I go down the stairs and stop in the middle of his living room, when I see his agitated face. His eyes are fixated on the screen of his phone.

"What's wrong?" I ask him and slowly walk closer to him. He lifts his head and the look on his face makes me halt in my tracks again. I can see that he is battling how he should tell me, so I take the decision away from him.

"Just rip off the Band-Aid. I can take it," I tell him guessing that something unpleasant will be revealed. Did something happen to his family? Did something happen to the production of the movie?

"People took pictures of us leaving the pub the last few days," he tells me, and I draw my eyebrows together in confusion. Sure, it's not pleasant to have someone post about it, but I could care less about pictures of me being taken as long I am not naked. It's not as bad as I thought.

"They think you are my girlfriend, because they captured me carrying you on my back," he continues, and I start to laugh loudly. Now he is the one drawing his eyebrows together.

"It's actually funny that they would think that, because they couldn't be further off the mark," I explain, but he doesn't seem amused at all. "What's your problem with it?" I inquire.

"They invaded your privacy, and they are trying to figure out who you are." It doesn't go unnoticed by me that he only addresses my privacy and not his. He is concerned about my well-being and the effect it could have on me.

"Yes, they did, not only mine but yours as well. They took a picture, sold it to a newspaper or posted it on social media. Did they do any harm to me because of it? No. I don't care about it as long as nobody stalks me or knows where I live. Don't worry about me, the world will know about me anyways when my book is available online and in stores by tomorrow," I tell him and he wants to say something, but I stop him by raising a hand.

"If you are worried, that the woman you like, sees the pictures and might assume that I am your girlfriend, I am more than happy to post a selfie of mine on my social media and commenting underneath that post, that it was me and we are just two friends, who went out for dinner, watched rugby and soccer while catching up. That would probably nip the rumors in the bud."

"You would really do that?" he asks me and tilts his head to the side, looking at me as if he tries to decipher something.

"You bet your ass, Henry. I don't want to be in the way of your happiness, especially when you talk about this woman the way you do. I don't think you just like her, because the way you spoke about her lets me believe you are falling in love with her. You deserve someone in your life who feels the same way about you, and I hope she is that special someone for you," I tell him and put my hand onto his shoulder.

"What gives you the idea that I'm falling in love with her?"

"Didn't you say something like she makes you smile, when she wrinkles her nose or that her cheerfulness affects others around her? These are things you only notice when you have spent a lot of time with someone and got to know them on a deeper level. Maybe you are already in love with her or maybe I am just completely off the mark. Just because I recently broke up with Luke, doesn't mean, I can't be around people who are in love. I think that somewhere out there is someone waiting for me, who will love me the way I am and will not try to change anything about me." He looks at me and takes a deep breath.

"I'm absolute positive that there is someone like that out there for you," he smiles at me.

"Do you want me to post a selfie now, or not?" I ask him and raise my eyebrow inquiringly at him.

"No, you don't need to. I think she understands."

"But the offer still stands. And now tell me what's for breakfast, because I can feel my stomach starting to eat itself."

"I haven't started preparing breakfast yet, because I saw that my manager Dany had sent me the link to the article."

"Okay, so how about I make breakfast and you go and get ready for the day, because both of us will be stuck in a car for almost six hours soon."

"Please don't remind me of that," he groans when he gets up from the chair and I put my hands onto his back to push him toward the staircase.

"You can pass the time by reading my book," I suggest, and a smile appears on his lips.

"Well then I wish the car ride will be longer so I can read all of it at once."

"What happened to your statement that some things need to be savored?" I ask him and try to sound British. He starts to laugh loudly.

"Believe me when I say that I will do that and that I will probably read both books couple of times within the next few weeks. And while doing that, I will ask you a lot of questions about it."

"I don't think you'll have that much time for it."

"When something is important to me, I'll make sure that I make the time for it, even more so when it is a person." I shake my head and push him toward the stairs, so he will get ready, and I can start cooking.