AM I TOO LATE
Unexpected Vacations
Chapter Fourteen
Hermione stumbled out into her kitchen. The late morning sun cascaded through the windows, and she felt like crawling back into bed and never surfacing again. Despair pulled a sigh from her lips.
She turned the coffee maker on and leaned her head against the refrigerator. She couldn't stop thinking of Harry…Harry almost kissing her…Harry turning his back on her… She blinked away tears.
Someone knocked on her door. Her heart plummeted. Was it Harry? Had he come to apologize? She flew to the door and wrenched it open. Ridley stood smiling at her, but one look at her face and his smile faded.
"What's wrong?" he asked.
She blinked at him. Then, she shook her head. "Headache," she said, and it wasn't a complete lie. She did have a headache.
"Can I come in?" he asked after a moment.
Hermione released a breath and tried not to feel overwhelmed with disappointment. She mentally smacked herself. Why would Harry be at her door? He was sorry for trying to kiss her, but not sorry for not kissing her.
"I don't have long," Ridley said, "but I had to see you before I left."
"Left?"
"We have a match tomorrow, but we'll be staying after that, we have a week off. We'll be in Spain," he said. He ran his hands down the front of his shirt in a nervous motion.
"Spain is lovely," Hermione said and her voice sounded dead.
"I was hoping you'd visit," he said. He reached out for Hermione's hand.
Her eyes widened. "Really?" she asked, completely shocked.
Ridley smiled and it made her want to burst into tears. "Hey," he said softly. He touched her face. "You okay?"
Hermione nodded her head in silence, but it was too late. The tears escaped from her lower lids. Ridley tugged her toward him, and she was too weak to protest. She leaned her head against his chest and cried softly. Ridley rubbed her back until she pulled away from him.
"I'm sorry," she apologized, "I guess I'm overwhelmed. Lots of things going on."
"I can't stand to see you cry," he said honestly.
She blushed. "I'm sorry."
"Don't be," he said. "What do you say?" he asked. "Maybe you need to get away?"
Hermione wiped her cheeks with her fingers. She nodded and inhaled a deep breath. "Yeah," she answered, "maybe I do."
Ridley smiled and slid his hand through her hair. "We could relax on the beach," he said. His hand slid down her arm and then down to her hand. "Just you and me. Nobody else."
"Nobody else," she repeated.
"Is that a yes?" he asked. He smiled at her again, and she wanted to trust in all the hope she saw in his blue eyes.
"Yeah," she said. "I would like to get away."
"With me?" he asked.
Hermione looked up at him. The only way to get over Harry would be to get away and spend time with a man who actually wanted her. "Yes."
Ridley leaned down and kissed her gently on the lips. He pulled away and cupped her cheek. "Chin up," he said. "I'll pick you up in the morning." And Hermione stood frozen in place as Ridley said goodbye and as he left.
* * * *
Harry paced his flat until Ron walked out of his bedroom and spoke to him.
"What's going on?" Ron asked. Then, taking in Harry's disheveled appearance and yesterday's clothes, he asked, "Did you go to bed?"
"No," Harry said. His eyes were bloodshot.
"Something wrong?" Ron asked.
"I…" he started but stopped. He had been on the verge of saying he had almost kissed Hermione, but he had a feeling Ron would overreact and possibly punch him in the face. Another idea sparked in his mind. "I'm going to see Beth."
"Oh-kay," Ron said. "And you're not sleeping because?"
"She's in Paris," Harry said. He kicked off his shoes and took off his dirty shirt.
"She's always in Paris," Ron said. "What does that have to do with you not sleeping?"
"Nothing," Harry said. He rushed into his bedroom and magicked a change of clothes and a few toiletries into a suitcase.
"Where are you going?"
"Paris," Harry said.
"Now?"
"Yes."
"Everything okay?" Ron asked.
Harry pulled a clean shirt over his head, changed into a pair of jeans, and snatched his suitcase off the bed. "I don't know," Harry said. "I hope so."
"Hey, mate," Ron said. "You don't look so good."
"I don't feel so good." Harry tied his trainers and stood up, suitcase in hand.
"When are you coming home?" Ron wondered.
"When everything is fixed and back to normal."
"Did something happen?" Ron asked. He hadn't seen Harry so antsy in a long while.
"No." Nothing happened. Nothing bloody happened…but I wish it had. Harry groaned and Apparated away.
* * * *
"You're going where?" Ginny asked.
"To Spain," Hermione answered. She dropped two sugar cubes in a cup of tea she had no desire to drink. She stirred until the sugar dissolved.
"With Ridley?"
"Yes."
Ginny leaned back in her chair. "Wow," she said. "I'm surprised."
"Surprised that I'm going or surprised that he asked."
"Don't do that," Ginny said. "Don't act like I think it's a shock that someone thinks you're attractive."
Hermione sighed. "I'm sorry, Gin," she said. "I'm not mad at you. I'm just…"
"Frustrated?"
"To say the least."
"You'll have a great time," Ginny said. She tried to smile but Hermione's face was sullen and weary.
"Spain is lovely."
"And Ridley is a great guy."
Hermione looked up at Ginny. "He is, isn't he?"
"Yes," Ginny agreed. "And he thinks you're wonderful."
"I know," Hermione whispered.
"You deserve someone who thinks you're wonderful," Ginny said. "Because you are."
Hermione nodded, and she tried not to get overly emotional again. She was tired of crying, and her bloody head ached.
"You need to move on," Ginny said. Hermione looked up at her in question. "You'll get over these feelings for Harry. What better way to do that than by going on a romantic vacation with a man who thinks your beautiful and sexy and intelligent?"
Hermione nodded again. "You're right."
"Of course I'm right," Ginny said. "And I'm jealous."
"Spain is lovely," Hermione said.
"You've said that already."
"I'm trying to pump myself up," Hermione sighed.
"Why?" Ginny asked. "Not much pumping up to do. You're going to be lying in the sun next to a super hot half naked man. And he might even try to get you undressed."
Hermione cracked a smile. "Yeah," she said. "Doesn't sound so bad, does it?"
"Bad?" Ginny laughed. "Are you kidding me? I'd kill to have that." She looked at Hermione and they shared a sad but hopeful smile.
* * * *
Harry Apparated to the hotel in Paris where Beth was staying. He crossed the lobby and stopped at the check-in desk.
"May I help you?" the woman asked in French.
"Er…" Harry said, not knowing any word other than bonjour. "Hi, I'm looking for Beth Jordan."
"Oui, oui," she answered.
"I'm her fiancé," he added, "Harry Potter."
The woman glanced down and smiled. She slid a room key onto the countertop and Harry reached for it. "Yes, I know. Miss Jordan is in room 491. Fourth floor," she said. She glanced at Harry wistfully. "The elevators are over there." Harry's eyes followed her finger, and he thanked her as he rushed off.
While riding the elevator, Harry thought of all the things he could possibly say to Beth. He felt he owed her an apology. He had almost kissed another woman. But not just any woman. Hermione. Guilt scratched at his insides. His skin itched.
The elevator doors opened. Harry hurried out and when he reached Room 491, he paused and tried to collect his thoughts. Would he tell Beth the truth? Or would he simply go to her and hold her and hope he could forgive himself? After all, nothing had actually happened. He hadn't kissed Hermione. So what if he wanted to kiss her? That didn't count, did it?
Harry slid the key into the lock and pushed open the door. The doors to the balcony were open and a breeze floated the curtains through the air like smoke. Harry let the door swing closed and he stepped through the foyer and into the bedchamber.
Beth sat up in bed, naked from the waist up-and from the waist down, Harry imagined. She jerked the sheets up to her neck. Her hair was a mess, her makeup smeared, and her eyes were wide and stunned. And she wasn't alone.
A man, blonde and muscular gaped at Harry. He reached for his wand on the end table. Harry could practically smell the man's fear, but Harry was momentarily dumbstruck. When reality caught up with him, Harry dropped his suitcase on the floor. The room key fell from his hand. He backed out of the room, and as he snatched open the door, he could hear Beth calling out to him, but he didn't stop. He couldn't stop. He could hardly breathe.
He wanted to get away, but his hands were shaking so badly that he was afraid to Apparate for his own safety. He stumbled into the elevator, rode it down to the lobby, and wandered blindly out onto the busy streets of Paris.
Hours later when the sun had finally set, Harry was still in Paris. He slouched in a chair outside a small café. He felt numb. Betrayed. Regret. Harry closed his eyes and inhaled slowly. Hermione's face swam into focus in his mind's eye and for the first time all day, he wanted to cry.
-->