I woke up to the buzzing of my phone. I had been asleep against Harry's chest for who knows how long. I was just thankful I didn't start drooling on him. His arm was heavy and comforting around me. I could tell he was still asleep by the sound of his breathing, low and steady. I honestly didn't want to move, but I knew my friends were probably looking for me. I knew I should go back to my apartment to spend the remaining few hours of my friends' visit with them.

But I didn't want to.

I closed my eyes again and thought, if I fell asleep again, I could truthfully use that as an excuse for why I didn't get their message. Eventually, though, guilt got the best of me, and I grabbed my phone to read the text. Sure enough, it was from a frantic Aaliyah, asking Where are you?! 

I typed a quick reply: At Harry's

Oh really?!  Her new message read. I knew exactly the face she made as she sent her response. It was that smart-ass, sideways glance thing she did when she thought I wasn't telling the truth, or in this case, the whole truth.

Nothing happened, I quickly clarified. I'll be down in a few. 

Take your time, she texted back with a dozen different smiley faces.

It was five in the morning, the first glimpses of sunlight beginning to peek over the horizon. The view from Harry's windows was spectacular. I couldn't help but wait until several colors had come and gone, like a slow-moving kaleidoscope. I finally moved Harry's arm and sat up. He was really adorable when he slept. But I wanted him to know I was leaving.

"Harry," I whispered.

He groaned a little.

"Harry," I said more loudly, and I pushed on his arm a little. 

He opened his bloodshot eyes and looked at me with a bit of confusion.

"We fell asleep. It's almost 5:30. I need to get back downstairs since my friends are leaving in a little while."

"Sure," he said in a very deep, very groggy voice.

"Get up, drink a quart of water, take two Tylenol and go to bed," I instructed. "You'll thank me when you wake up."  

"We should talk," he said plainly as he stood up.

I had found myself hoping he wouldn't remember what I said the night before, about figuring out what we were. Not that I didn't want to define it a little more, but at the same time, I was afraid of moving too quickly. We had only met just a little over two months ago, and now we were thinking about a relationship, an exclusive relationship. It just made me anxious because it seemed like so many things could potentially go wrong. And I was an optimist, for heaven's sake! It must have been something in my gut telling me to proceed very slowly. 

"We will," I answered. "You need sleep, and so do I. When do you work next?" 

"Tomorrow night," he said then stopped and thought. "Or is it tonight? No, it's tomorrow night."

I smiled at his confused state, and suggested, "Let's talk later today then. When we're both rested and sober."

"Sounds perfect," he said, pushing himself up from the couch. He stretched his long arms high over his head with an enormous yawn. I tried to pretend I wasn't looking at his chest and his muscular physique. And gah, those tattoos! But when he leaned back with an even wider stretch, I couldn't help but stare at the way his joggers sagged down in front, almost to the point of revealing too much of him.

I looked down, flustered, and said, "Okay, I'll catch you later." 

I was reaching for the door handle when he said, "Ellie."

"Yeah," I asked, not turning around.

"Thanks for last night," he said quietly.

Meg and Aaliyah were both wide awake when I got to my place. 

"What are you guys doing up?" I asked. "I thought you'd sleep til noon."

"Nah," Meg said. "I have to work at noon. We have to head out pretty quickly here."

"You're going to work sleep-deprived and hungover? Good choice," I said sarcastically. "I feel sorry for any of your clients today."

"Hey, I can cut hair with my eyes closed," she retorted. 

"Doesn't sound like a great idea," Aaliyah joined in.

We made a quick breakfast of bagels, fruit, and very strong coffee. Then the interrogation began.

"Did you get some?" Meg asked bluntly.

"Do you even know me?" I asked, annoyed with her presumption. "I'm not that easy."

"But he's fucking hot," she deadpanned. "I mean like seriously. fucking. hot."

"We didn't do anything except fall asleep together on the couch...cuddling," I said, knowing Meg would pick on my choice of words.

"Cuddling?" She scoffed. "What are you, in a fucking Disney movie?" 

"Shut up," I said giving her the stink eye, but a devious grin followed. "I can tell you that he looks really good without a shirt on though."

"Oh?" Meg asked.

"He changed when we got back and conveniently left his shirt off," I grinned deviously. "He has the sexiest tattoos."

"Yeah, I noticed the ones on his arm. Nice," Meg approved with a nod. Then she pushed for more details. "Any kisses?"

"No."

"Hugs?" 

"Just cuddling."

"Declarations of love?" 

"No!" I laughed. "But we did decide that we should talk about what's going on between us,  later, when we've both had some sleep. He was jealous of Ian talking to me."

"Ya think?" Aaliyah laughed.

"Everyone at the table could see that," Meg agreed.

"Whatever," I whined. "I don't know what to do. Yes, I want to go out with him, but it will be tricky. If it doesn't work out, it will be very awkward at work. And if we stay together, it will be difficult, too, since we're technically not supposed to date co-workers."

"Oh, there has to be a way around that," Aaliyah said, waving off my concern. "I'm studying law, remember? There are always loopholes," she added, giggling mischievously.

"Besides," Meg said without even looking up from her food. "Everyone who was there last night is already working out their own theories about you two. You were joined at the hip all night, and then you left together."

"Ohhhh," I groaned, letting my head drop back. "I didn't even think about that. Now the rumors are gonna fly."

"Right," Meg said. "So the way I see it, there will be rumors either way, true rumors or false ones. Which do you want to deal with?"

"It's not that simple," I whined. "Don't you see how complicated it will be? We live in the same building, work in the same department. It already feels like too much, especially if we're going to be exclusive, which he obviously wants, based on his fits of jealousy yesterday."

"You can always take it slow," Meg said quietly.

"As opposed to jumping in the sack with him?" I quipped.

"Well, as you said, I know you too well," she replied, gulping the last of her coffee. "We've got to get going." She stood up to get her things together, and Aaliyah followed. 

"Wish you guys didn't have to leave already," I called from the kitchen while they packed up. "I'm coming home for Labor Day weekend, though. I'm going to that country music festival in Milwaukee. Are you coming?"

"Ugh, no!" Meg blasted. "You know me, right?!" She said, throwing my own words back in my face. "I wouldn't be caught dead in cowboy boots! Maybe you should invite the doctor."

"I don't think so," I laughed. "He doesn't like country music either."

"I might be free," Aaliyah said, coming back to the kitchen. I was happy to have one friend that at least tolerated my taste in music. "But how on earth did you get a holiday weekend off when you're probably the newest nurse there?"

"It was a complete surprise," I said. "Bridget wanted a four-day weekend the previous week, so she offered to take over for me on Labor Day."

"That's a great bit of luck," she said, still surprised. 

"I know, I thought I'd be working every holiday weekend til I'm thirty, but I'm glad I'll get to go home for a bit. I miss my family. And Chloe. She's probably getting so big!" I mourned the thought of my baby sister growing up without me.

Sleeping next to Harry had been thrilling, but my back was stiff from our position. I climbed into my bed right after the girls left, and I successfully slept until about noon. I quickly hopped in the shower and then dressed in one of my favorite day-off outfits.

When I checked my phone, I noticed that Harry had already texted twice, wondering when I wanted to talk. I laughed quietly. He always seemed so eager when it came to our relationship. I decided to call instead of texting.

"Hi, are you alive?" I asked.

"As far as I know," he mumbled from the other end. Then I heard him yawn. 

"Sounds like you need more sleep," I observed. 

"I'll be fine. I work the night shift, remember?" He said, and the irony was not wasted on me.

"I do remember. So when do you want to talk?" 

"Now."

To be honest, I wasn't prepared for Harry to want to see me immediately. I wanted a little time to think things through. But now, here we were, hanging out in his apartment again, facing each other on the sofa, and facing some big questions as well.

"At this point, whatever we decide, we'll probably face rumors about the nature of our relationship," I stated. "Do you want to deal with that?" 

"It's too late now," he said in a matter-of-fact way.

"What I said last night was true," I said softly, changing the subject. 

"Which part?" 

"That I care about you," I admitted. "I care about you more than I would just any friend or co-worker." I wanted to make sure he knew I was serious, so I went a little further. "I have feelings for you, Harry. There's no denying that."

A solemn nod indicated that he knew. Then he spoke, in that sweet, shy way, "Well you know I care about you, too, and my feelings run deep as well. It's just that...." He trailed off, searching for the right words to continue, but he just remained silent. It felt like he didn't want to share that much with me.

"What?" I asked carefully. "You don't want to be involved with someone at work? Are you afraid you'll lose your job? Or maybe the age gap is too much...." I trailed off, because I wanted him to take it from there.

"It actually doesn't have to do with work at all," he admitted, and I became a little more uneasy. "I just...I don't know how to do this." 

I was lost by his incomplete explanation. "Don't know how to do what? Date someone?" 

"Something like that," he said, squinting his eyebrows into a hard frown.

"You're 35. You have dated women before, haven't you? I would assume that you've dated many women," I ventured.

"Why would you assume that?" He asked, sounding a bit defensive.

"I didn't mean anything by that except that you are strikingly handsome, you're well-established, I find you interesting and fun, and, not that this matters to me at all, you're clearly not a poor man."

He sat, silent and pensive for a long while. I reviewed everything I'd said and I wondered what could have insulted him that much, or caused him to think so deeply.

After some time, I said, "If it helps at all, I've only been in one serious relationship, if you can count high school romance serious. I really thought I loved Dale, until it was time to move on after high school, and then I just couldn't picture him as part of my future. After we broke up, he practically became a stalker. Kind of turned me off to relationships, to be honest. But college and nursing school were intense times and I didn't have much time to pursue romance."

"Has he tried to contact you again?" Harry asked.

"No, not at all. I think you scared him away for good."

"Good," he said, smiling. He stayed quiet for a long time again. Finally he said, "We have something in common."

"What's that?" 

"I've only been in one serious relationship," he said, looking up at me with a vulnerability in his eyes I hadn't seen before. 

"Really?" I asked. "I find that so hard to believe. I'm sure you've had women falling at your feet!"

"Yes and no," he said. The look on his face almost convinced me that he was clueless about how attractive he really was. "I'm not sure I can explain it without sounding like a loser," he informed me.

Harry? A loser? I couldn't believe that word ever crossed his mind when he assessed himself. "Try me," I encouraged him. "I don't judge people. You are who you are, and if I can't accept that, then I shouldn't be your friend. I wouldn't be worthy of friendship if I judged people like that."

"Looking at my life from the outside, you'd think I had everything when I was growing up - a great home, supportive parents, a sister who actually didn't drive me crazy. I had many great experiences, but you'd never believe me if I told you who I used to be."

"What does that mean?" I asked in surprise. "Do you want to see who I used to be?" I pulled up a picture on my phone that my mom had recently sent when she was going through our old photos. It was a picture of me in 8th grade, braces on my teeth, pimples on my face and my wild, crazy hair spread out in all directions. "You have to promise you won't laugh," I said solemnly.

"I won't," he said in just as solemn a voice.

I showed him the picture, and of course, I knew he'd laugh. I actually thought it was funny to watch him struggle to keep his laughter inside until it finally just burst out of him. "Oh, fine," I said. "Go ahead, I know it's impossible not to laugh. But would you ever believe that I used to be such a dork? I know I'm not a supermodel now, but I think I've matured in my looks." 

"You have definitely matured," he said, still laughing. 

"See? I was a freckle-faced, metal-mouth, frizzy-haired freak. Who were you before? Did you change identities?" 

"Something like that," he said, smirking. 

I was starting to get very irritated that he was giving me such elusive answers. "Damn it, Harry! Just tell me what you're talking about!"

* * * * *

What do you think Harry's big secret is?

If you've never seen the interview where Harry is laughing like this, I'm posting the link in external links.  It's the Graham Norton interview where Harry is sitting next to Sir Ian McKellen (Gandalf) 3:07 is adorable and 10:30 is the laugh. The whole interview is cute.