Fall in LA isn't much different from fall in Texas. It's still hot, just a little less, you can still wear shorts and be completely okay, and if it wasn't for the change of month on the calendar you wouldn't even know the seasons had changed thanks to the excess of palm trees here. I will admit it gets cooler at night which I love and dare I say it's actually cold if you're by the water.
My gaze falls out the window of my office onto the cityscape. It still blows my mind that I'm living in LA. There were times I doubted this would be possible. I doubted I could save enough money, doubted I would have the work ethic to work two jobs religiously, and most of all I doubted I could leave my family and everything I knew. I'd lived in Texas my entire life but I knew it wasn't where I wanted to be, I didn't want to live my entire life out in one spot, it's never been in my nature. Even when I was a child and would imagine my life I never imagined it in Texas. I was always somewhere where the air sung when it whipped past you, where the sun shined brighter but not hotter, somewhere I could be myself completely. That's what I found in LA, I found my place.
The door to my office opens just as my phone vibrates from a text message making me jump. Assuming it's either Amita, Damien, or both coming through the door I plaster a big smile on my face. The corners of my mouth fall into a line once I see the dark grey suit enter the room. I watch his back as he closes the door softly behind him. He looks good, his shoulders are a bit broader as if he's been working out.
Turning to me he rests his back against the door setting his intense green gaze on me. As he usually does he scans my outfit. Simple blue jeans, a sleeveless peplum blouse with a black and white design, and silver accessories to make the outfit pop. My makeup is light, just eyeliner and lip gloss and my hair is down in soft waves framing my face.
He better not give me any shit for participating in "casual Friday" even though he clearly isn't. His dark grey suit is paired with shiny black shoes, a solid blue button down, a white pocket square, and a yellow tie. His hair is parted to the left in a modern twist on a thirties hairstyle, he looks damned good.
He watches me as I watch him walk over with the authoritative stride that used to make me weak in the knees. I'd still jump his bones, but these days I prefer a walk with a little more swagger. Mostly when it's attached to a man with long brown hair so smooth it slips through your fingers.
Taking his seat on my desk I watch as the wheels in his head turn, trying to form a coherent thought. Something along the lines of, "I'm sorry I've been being an inattentive asÅwipe, please forgive me," would work. Especially since we were supposed to go out last night to finally talk and he stood me up.
He seems to decide upon something as he turns to me with a concentrated look in his eyes. I never noticed how similar his eyes are to Harry's, although Harry's are a bit more interesting. Shaking the thought away I tune back in to our conversation where he's looking at me expectantly.
Instead of admitting I wasn't paying attention I just agree, nodding my head.
"Great," he says getting up from my desk and heading towards the door, "I told Mr. Price you wouldn't mind. Enjoy your lunch, I'll see you at two."
My skills at using context clues are unparalleled for a reason. I deduce that racist asÅhole Price wants to meet with Berkley privately, again. He met me one time, when we took on the absolute task that is his failing company, and treated me like I was covered in Åhit. After that, every meeting we should be having together he wants to change and only meet with Berkley. Normally I would be furious but checking my phone a smile rises to my cheeks. This will probably be the only time I thank him for anything.
Harry and I were supposed to meet on my lunch break so I could get my bags and take them home. My landlord called yesterday and gave the all clear so I can move back into my place, and not a moment too soon. I can feel myself getting too attached to him but the momentum behind it is too much. So much so that I can't stop it or I don't want to, either way it's too much to think about.
I text him back after reading his message confirming us meeting up. Luckily for me he's down for going to lunch and responds before I can even sit my phone down. Still smiling, I start my computer's shut down and begin gathering my belongings. I carried a clutch today, since I knew I'd have to pack my huge bags home after work, so it only takes me a moment to be ready to go.
Walking out into the hall I peek into the window of Amita's office, waving when I see she's on the phone. She waves back and gives me the signal that she'll text me, I nod my agreeance and take off down the hall. My quick strides only slow as I come upon Damien's desk. He hangs up the phone as I arrive and comes around to hug me. He's in another pair of white pants and a powder blue button down as if he's at a club in Miami and not an office in LA.
"Love bug, I haven't seen you all day," he gushes, "Where are you off to in such a hurry?"
I guide him along with me to the elevator doors, for one, because I'm ready to go and for two, so we can have a bit of privacy. "To lunch actually," I tell him, my voice lowered so eavesdropping ears miss it.
His brow scrunches, "Why? I thought you had a meeting with Mr. Reynolds and Mr. Price today."
I shake my head, pushing the button for the elevator a few times, "You know that douche Price and his foolery. Massa doesn't think I'm worthy enough to be in his presence."
Damien's eyes roll so hard I fear for their safety. A gust of wind escapes his nostrils like a bull seeing red. "I'm getting really sick of his crap. Do you want me to say something to Mr. Reynolds about it? I'm sure if he knew he wouldn't stand for it."
I purse my lips, "There's no way he doesn't know D. He's always present when Price treats me the way he does he just cares more about his business. I don't blame him, in fact I thank him. Now I can have a two hour lunch, no big deal."
The doors to the elevator open as I shrug and step inside waving to a still annoyed Damien as they close. He's a sweetheart for caring so much.
My phone vibrates again, Harry's asking if I've left yet. I shoot him my reply as I drop into the front seat of my car. The task of getting onto the road is less challenging than normal since everyone else is stuck at work for another hour. Getting more than a few feet down the street however is a bit more challenging, traffic in LA is the worst part about living here. As I sit waiting for the line of cars in front of me to move I think back to the past couple of weeks with Harry.
It's been a task trying to separate the feelings I feel for him as a friend from the ones that are forming as something else. As much as I try to deny it, he's awoken a piece of me I thought died a long time ago. I feel my age when I'm with him. He makes me happier than I thought was possible for someone who's been through what I've been through. I feel light with him even with the threat of heavier feelings on the horizon. A part of me just wants to enjoy the here and now and not worry about all the possibilities of the future.
Being with him makes me feel like it's okay to be young and reckless. I've planned out every step of my life so carefully but he makes me feel like wiping all of that from the table and starting fresh. I've built myself a box of safety but he makes it feel like a coffin. I'm living when we're together and there's no drug more dangerous than that.
~*~
Slowing down outside of the sushi bar I'm supposed to meet Harry at I see a swarm of men with cameras just as I get a text telling me to pull around the back. Doing as I'm told I hold my breath hoping the paparazzi don't see me. I remind myself to get my windows tinted darker as I let out the breath and park in a spot. The building itself is a long rectangular shape with windows seemingly everywhere. The spots that don't contain windows are covered in red, green, and black paint.
My eyes catch sight of a grey fedora atop a mass of coffee curls and my heart speeds. He hops out of his car straightening the collar of his plaid grey shirt and pulling down his ripped blue jeans. I watch, openmouthed, as he lifts his hat from his head, dishevels his hair, then places his hat back like that wasn't the hottest thing since toasted bread.
Without taking my eyes off of him I reach into my passenger seat and grab my clutch. I'm in a daze as I step out of my car. Whenever we see each other it always feels like I haven't seen him in months, the anticipation and excitement never fades.
"B!" he greets with a dimple divulging smile, his arms open for me.
I nearly jump into them, loving the way he cuddles me to him. No one gives better hugs than this man, his hugs feel like love.
"Sorry about that," he apologizes gesturing behind us to the front of the building, "I guess someone called them once I set the reservation."
I shake my head, "No problem Houdini it's not your fault."
He places his hand at the small of my back as we walk towards the back door of the restaurant. "If you start to get overwhelmed just let me know. I'll call the police to get them out of here if I have to."
At his words I ascend to a much higher place. He's so compassionate it hurts, it's alien to be this taken care of.
The thin material of my shirt feels nonexistent under the heat of his palm. I want to tell him if anything is going to make me overwhelmed it's him and his touching but I don't. Instead I nod and smile as pleasantly as I can, thanking him.
The inside of the restaurant is darkly furnished with maroon carpet and some shade of brown on the walls. Natural light from the millions of windows light the restaurant but also alert the vultures outside that their prey has entered the building. The restaurant erupts in glass shielded flashes of white light from the cameras flashing outside.
Harry's guiding hand on my back turns into a comforting hold on my side, his arm resting against my back reassuringly.
With so much going on outside my attention is split between the feelings being watched brings and the feelings being wrapped up in Harry brings. I can't seem to decipher which feeling is more powerful, both of them pull on something internal that affects me in ways I can't fully explain.
I feel Harry's warmth leave me, bringing me back to the present and seeing him pull out my chair for me. I smile shyly at him before taking my seat, my private apology for zoning out for the last few minutes.
He sits down across from me after giving our waiter our drink order, smirking at me as if he's enjoying some secret joke.
"Did you bring my bags Harold? I didn't see them in the Audi," I decide to break our little staring contest. Knowing him he'd let it go on just to watch me squirm.
He sits back as the waiter places our drinks down, white wine for me a beer for him. "If you must know, I didn't."
My lips purse of their own accord. "Of course I must know, they're my bags. That was the point of us coming here Houdini. How am I supposed to get my stuff?"
His pink lips rise into an amused grin before he answers simply, "You aren't."
I open my mouth with the intention of responding but the only sound that comes out is a laugh. He's a crazy person and I love it. Shaking my head I cup my cheeks in my hands. "What am I going to do with you?" I ask rhetorically.
He shrugs as he plays with the silver cross laying against his chest. The buttons of his shirt are undone just enough to see the birds on his chest and the prominence of his pecks.
My mouth is watering and not for the sushi. "What are you ordering?" I ask, trying to distract myself.
Shrugging his shoulders again he doesn't look up from the menu until he's asking me the question back.
I look away from his eyes, the green and hazel mix eyeing me much too intensely for such a simple question. "I've never had sushi before," I answer as honestly as I can without going into a long story. I tried it once in a grocery store and nearly threw up. One can only hope this experience is a little different.
He raises an eyebrow before taking the corner of his bottom lip into his mouth in concentration. I can't take my eyes off of him.
"I'll order for us both then," he says, waving the waiter over.
Taking him in I feel like the paparazzi outside. Flashing pictures with my eyes so I remember this moment just as it is. But what is it really?
It's like I'm playing Marco Polo in a pool made of my feelings. My eyes are closed as I wade through them aimlessly and one wrong move can propel me forward, sinking into the deep end to drown. I know I need to tread carefully, eyes fully open to the things around me but it's hard. Life with Harry in it is like a roller coaster, you feel it more with your eyes closed.
I can hear my heart calling for that freedom, calling for him but I have to pull back. Not just for my sake but his as well, I know that for certain.
"You didn't explain why your lunch is so long in your text," he says after giving our order to the waiter.
"Price is up to his crap again," I explain rolling my eyes.
He shakes his head disapprovingly, "And your boss didn't say anything about it?"
I give him a look that says, "You know he didn't." I shift in my chair trying to give off the vibe that I don't want to talk about it further.
He seems to get the message and changes topics slightly, "So did you and your boss have fun last night?"
I want to laugh at his failed attempt to sound nonchalant. He went out last night since I was supposed to as well. I can only assume his night went better than mine since he came back about two hours before I got up for work.
"He stood me up," I reply honestly with a shrug.
He scoffs, shaking his head from side to side. "You deserve better than a part time boyfriend Bailey," he says bluntly.
I try to laugh off his statement, his words hitting deeper than I'm willing to investigate. "Don't assume Houdini, we have an agreement."
His eyebrow rises at my admission.
"We're casual," I explain shrugging one shoulder indifferently, "It's what we have time for."
He changes his expression from skeptical to understanding in an instant with a smooth laugh. "I see," he nods, still laughing.
"What's so funny?" I ask, sitting back in my seat with my arms crossed in front of me.
Tapering of his laugh to a small snicker he replies, "Your agreement. You say it's what you both have time for but really it's what you have time for. You don't want to be officially together."
I want to groan at how well he sees through me. Being unofficial makes situations like last night hurt a lot less. Instead of giving in I play dumb, "What are you talking about?"
My false ignorance makes him laugh again, "You know exactly what I mean. I know you so I know that when you really want something, it's yours."
"Not everything," I think, a smile breaking out on my lips at the thought.
We share at laugh at my expense as the food comes. The waiter hands Harry our chopsticks and tells us to have a nice meal.
I watch as he rubs the sticks together like he's starting a fire before handing them to me. Taking them from his hand I stare down at the platter in front of me dauntingly. "What in the hell is this Harold? And why does it look...crispy?"
He laughs before leaning across the table with his chopsticks to grab a piece of whatever is on my plate. "It's a fried California roll. I figured I'd get you something basic since you don't know if you'll like it. Frying it is for your benefit, you'll like it."
"You're the best you know that?" I ask with a grin to which he nods and pops the piece of roll into his mouth. The fact that the fish is raw is what always freaked me out about sushi so I couldn't be happier he got mine fried.
Taking a deep breath I pick up my chopsticks and clumsily latch them onto a piece of the roll. After dropping it a few times I stab through it with one stick and rush my mouth to it.
Harry's laughter at this point is overwhelming and contagious. His face is red from trying to hold it in and even redder from failing miserably and laughing loud enough to gain stares.
"You're laughing but I'm glad I got it in my mouth. This is really good," I say through giggles. I'm surprised I like it as much as I do.
"Told you," he brags, expertly lifting his chopsticks to his mouth with a rice covered circle clamped between them.
I purse my lips before taking a sip of my wine and risk a glance out the window.
The paparazzi are still outside watching and snapping pictures. They're pressed against the glass so tight I'm surprised I can't see their breath creating condensation. Harry got a table towards the back of the restaurant, close to the kitchen. His seat is at the edge of the window while mine is in line with the start of the windowless part of the building.
I smile to myself knowing he sat me here purposely. The only way the paps can see me is if I come over to his side of the table. Sweet unsolicited gestures like that make me wish things could be different. They make me wish I was different.
"Hello? B? Are you listening?" Harry asks his head turned to the side in question.
I nod with a small smile, trying to recover from my thoughts. This isn't the time.
"You're so spacey today," he laughs shaking his head. "I asked if you wanted to try my spicy tuna roll."
A cackle bursts from my lips, grabbing attention from the few older patrons of the restaurant.
"Your mind is literally always in the gutter," Harry snickers, grabbing a piece of the roll with his chopsticks. "Here."
I look from him to the roll he's offering between the chopsticks then back to him. Keeping eye contact I lean forward and wrap my mouth around the roll. His eyes gleam mischievously as he watches me, letting me know my mind isn't the only one in the gutter.
An eruption of flashes from outside bring me fully into the present. The flavors of the roll hit my tongue making me want to grimace. It's not my favorite but I don't let it show on my face. Instead I finish chewing and have a big gulp of wine to wash it down. My tongue darts out to lick my lips and re-taste the wine.
"Do you like it?" he asks, eyes still focused on my mouth.
A smile forms on my lips. To say I'm pleased to know I affect him too is an understatement.
"Not as much as mine," I answer honestly. My phone vibrates before I can continue.
Opening my clutch I see it's an email from Pebbles Publishing. They want me to make a decision about signing with them soon but I don't know if I can. Recalling these past weeks with Harry I can't think of one instance when we weren't having a great time enjoying one another. I don't want to lose that. I'm putting my own feelings in a chokehold not to lose it. If I go through with this and hand my book over to them what will he think? Sure I can explain my side to him until I'm blue in the face but I fear there will always be a part of him that feels like I used him.
I close the email and the thoughts that come with it, I'll handle that later.
"Everything okay?" he asks taking in the frown on my face.
I nod and gesture out the window, "Sure. I'm just disappointed that my fellow Americans don't know how to mind their own business."
He laughs waving his hand jokily, "Are you kidding? You and I having sushi is news, the whole world should know."
His humor never fails to hit it's mark with me. I catch him gazing at me as I laugh but I don't comment, I never do.
"Alright, onto the important stuff," I announce, "this damned camping trip. What's it for again?"
He takes to-go trays from our waiter and starts to store his food as he replies, "We're doing an album promotion tour back home. Our sales have been slowing there so management wants us to boost them the only way possible, back to back concerts."
His sarcasm brings a sad smile to my lips, I know he's tired. I can see it in his eyes whenever he mentions work. Their break in 2015 didn't last long, a little less than a year. Part of it had to do with the drama of Zayn leaving and coming back while the other had to do with exhaustion. I hate how hard they're worked but I never say anything unless he wants me to, it is his job after all.
"Will you be gone long?" I ask, trying to keep emotion out of my voice.
The smirk lighting his face lets me know I failed. "Gonna miss me that much huh?" he asks boastfully as he stores my leftovers in a to-go box for me.
I roll my eyes, "Nope, I just need to know how many pool parties I can throw at your place before you get back."
"Ha-ha," he sasses, "It's okay if you miss me B. I'll-"
"I'm going to stop you there," I interrupt, knowing I'll melt in my seat if I hear him say it. "I've actually go to go if I want to make it back to work on time."
He nods once with a soft smile then looks down at his phone.
I hope I haven't hurt his feelings but it's better this way. I know it is.
"Alright let me get a look at the damage," I declare reaching for the bill between us.
Before I can get my hands on it he lifts it from my reach. "No way," he resists, "I'm paying."
"Harry honestly. This is the one time in life I can buy you something you need without going broke. Now give it up," I laugh, my fingers and thumb pinching together like lobster claws.
He laughs along with me but stops before I do to watch me. He does that a lot and I secretly love it. "You can get the next one," he says softly, his gaze intent.
I nod knowing he's full of it. Waiting to the side as he pays for our meal I check the time. I have more than enough time to make it to my house to drop off my bags and get back to work. There's no way he didn't bring my stuff, he knows I don't need to stay with him anymore.
"They're going to be out there," he says gravely, turning to me.
I can feel my heart rate pick up and try desperately to distract myself. "Did you really leave my bags at your house?"
He laughs shaking his head, "Are you serious?"
I lift a shoulder in ambivalence. "I'm trying to distract myself."
Dimples greet me on each end of his smile as he runs his hand softly down the side of my face to my chin before falling to his side. "Dale took your things to your house, he used the key you gave me. Now, are you ready?"
Right, Dale, his bodyguard. I like him, he's a lot like Harry, playful yet serious at the same time. I nod my head and walk with him towards the door, his hand against my back. It opens and I'm suddenly yanked from the peaceful serenity of the restaurant and thrown into a cyclone of yelling and cameras flashing.
I breathe deeply through my nose and back out my mouth trying to keep calm as we walk. It feels like we've been walking forever already, the few steps from the parking lot seemed to take seconds on our way in. Instead of focusing on the ever extending path ahead of us I concentrate on the feel of Harry's splayed fingers against my ribcage. With every breath his hand moves in what feels like a caress to the sensitive skin, my shirt doing nothing to calm the sensation.
Before I know it he's opening the door of my car for me with the key I gave him and helping me inside. I'd been trying to figure out who to give my spare car key to for a while and now giving it to him has paid off, I was totally frozen.
"You did great B," he praises, leaning his head in the car, "This gets easier, I promise."
I nod, thankful for his encouragement. I didn't think the 'deer in headlights' thing was true but now I see why they freeze.
"I'll see you later okay?" he assures me after he and Dale exchange a look.
"Okay," I reply, regaining control of my faculties. Starting my car I slip into my seatbelt and he closes my door.
Dale clears the stragglers from behind my car so I can back out and with a wave from Harry I'm gone.
~*~
A text comes into my phone sidetracking me from my work. It's been a little over an hour since the debacle at the sushi bar so my nerves aren't as fried. How these people can stalk you and invade your personal space like that and call it a job I'll never understand.
I'm caught off guard when I open my text message. The first thing I see is a picture of my sushi from earlier with a fork and knife beside it. The text beneath it says, "Meet me at my place after work or the California roll gets it."
I laugh at the text before responding shaking my head.
Pretty sure this is considered a terroristic threat just like spitting.
He doesn't take long to text back.
Ew. Gross, you know I hate spitting. Just for that I'm eating a piece of your roll now.
A smile spreads across my face reading his response. I grin even wider as I text him back.
That was not a part of our deal. I agree to the terms just don't hurt my Cali roll Sir (praying hands emoji)
His swift reply shocks me, not for it's speed but for the content.
Fine since you're begging. Also, I'm pretty sure I like Sir more than Houdini. I think we should keep it.
My mouth falls wide open as I read and reread the text. Is he...flirting? Anxiety engulfs my body like I fell into a pool of it. I have no idea how to respond so I go back to work.
It takes me nearly twenty minutes to text back, five of it to come up with my response the other fifteen to get the balls to send it.
Maybe.
I text and jam my finger into the send button before I can back out of it. Immediately I thrust my phone into my clutch on silent. If he texts back there's no way I'll be able to focus on work. It wasn't the flirtiest response but if he reads between the lines like I know he can he'll see the subtext.
Before I can catch my breath and calm down fully a work instant message pops up in the corner of my screen. I sigh reading it's from Berkley asking me to come see him before I leave for the day. Dread fills me just thinking about it. More than likely he'll want to talk about Mr. Price and their meeting today. Maybe this will be the time he finally tells me Price wants me off of the account. I can only hope to be so lucky.
The next few hours of work speed by quickly. It's like I looked down at my computer and it was three in the afternoon only to look up again and see that it's almost seven. I almost can't believe Amita and Damien didn't try to kidnap me seeing that it's a Friday but then I remember their significant others. Their weekends have been filled with lovey-dovey dates and wedding planning. I shake my head as I shut down my computer, I sound like a hater.
Grabbing my clutch I remember that Berkley wanted to see me and head in the direction of his office. I decide to text Harry and let him know I'll be late once I get done with this, it shouldn't take long.
"Come in," Berkley yells before I can even knock, clearly he saw my silhouette in the frosted glass.
I open the door and decide to lead with a joke. Things have been kind of awkward and tense between us and neither of us are bold enough to talk about it, at least we haven't been yet.
"I could've been an assassin and here you are just inviting me in," I grin, walking over to his desk.
He shakes his head, "Not with that figure. I don't know one assassin that looks like you."
My cheeks heat at the compliment as superficial as it is. I may think of myself as mature but I need my ego stroked from time to time too.
"Besides," he continues, "I wouldn't blame you if you tried to kill me, I've been horrible to you."
I laugh his comment off, fanning my hand flippantly, "It's never that serious Berkley."
He stands and walks around the desk until he's in front of me leaning against the front of his desk. "I want you to know it was nothing personal Bailey. I never want you to feel like I would purposely hurt you. It was just... a lot to find out you've been seeing a pop star behind my back. I mean he can offer you the same things I can you know?" he rambles before stopping himself, "I guess what I'm trying to say is I felt insecure."
I press my lips together tightly. I'm not sure what to say but I know this is getting far too emotional for our casual relationship. "Relax Berkley," I start, feeling my response out as I go, "no need to be insecure Harry and I are just really good friends. You don't need to explain yourself remember? That was a part of us keeping things casual."
He nods slowly as if it's all coming back to him now and claps his hands before rubbing them together. "You're right," he declares, "And for that, and your birthday I missed, we need to celebrate."
I open my mouth to tell him I have plans but close it just as quickly. He already seems like he's conflicted, if I tell him I have plans with the cause of his insecurity won't that make it worse?
"I booked the VIP section at that new club Rave a few blocks from here. It'll be fun, drinks on me, you can bring Amita and Damien if you want," he continues, his bright green eyes full of hope.
Looking into his eyes I'm reminded of Harry and it makes me feel guilty. Instantly I hate the feeling. That mixed with the hopeful look on Berkley's face pushes me to say yes. Nodding my head I agree to go with him.
It's not like Harry will mind. Besides going over to his place tonight would only cause me to become more confused about us. Our standing is shaky, we're friends on the surface but our connection is much deeper. I don't want to get ahead of myself or worse get ahead of him and make a move when I shouldn't. It's getting harder to contain my feelings, eventually I'm going to blurt them. I won't be able to help it. On this one thing it's easier with Berkley. The lines are drawn with neon paint and even if he's a little confused, I'm not.
When it comes to Harry our lines are all over the place. I feel like a walking talking contradiction. Part of me wants to jump into things feet first while another part is begging me to pump my brakes and take my time while another part is warning me to leave things where they are before I fůck them up completely.
In one beat my heart wants him, in the next it wants to be free, and in another it says those two options are one in the same.
Berkley's smile widens, his big sad eyes seeming happier. "Great, I have outfit choices for you."
I watch him take long strides over to the closet on the other side of his office. He pulls out a few different choices, all of them look like they'll be tight fitting but the colors are all different. One is maroon another is nude and the last is black, which instantly becomes my favorite.
"I wasn't sure which color would look best with whatever shoes you wore but they all are your style...I think," he muses aloud laying each of them out on the couch against the wall.
I smile, he's sweet. Now I see why he's always checking out my outfit when I see him. Sure enough after inspection each of the dresses could at any point in time be found in my closet. The black one however is the choice of the night. It's tight, knee length, and not too revealing unless you count the shoulders as an erogenous zone. It also matches my accessories without me having to change my makeup.
"You'll look amazing in that," he beams before pulling off his shirt.
My eyes widen and breath catches. Well damn.
He's not going to win any awards for his body but then again who is. He's built like a swimmer, very nice arms, lanky, toned, and lean. Pulling my eyes away from his Adonis lines is harder than I'm willing to admit. His pants are hanging dangerously low, the slightest tug would have them and, from the looks of it, his underwear down in seconds.
Swallowing the lump in my throat I grab the dress tightly in my fist and turn towards the door. "I'm going to get dressed in my office. I'll be right back."
That signature secretive smile of his graces his plump lips, his hands reaching for the button on his pants.
Jesus take the wheel.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
What's up my good people!!!!
I hope yall liked the chapter!! It literally took me from noon until now to finish this *eyeroll* I've been trying to be more detailed and add more depth to my characters but I don't know if it's working. I always hate my stuff as I'm writing it then if I go back and re-read once it's posted I'm like "Ehh I guess it's not bad." Lol UGH!
This chapter's Question...
Are yall excited for the camping chapter? I know I am lol
This chapter's goal...
I wanted to show Bailey's indecisive nature when it comes to all things Harry. She may irritate you guys with how fickle she is but it's not her leading the way most of the time it's her pain. She's scared, just try to look at things from her perspective. Which actually may be easier to do as the book goes on and you find out more about her past and how specifically it has affected and keeps affecting her future!
This chapter's song...
Girls Your Age by Transviolet. I think this song represents Bailey's feelings completely. She lived her teen years trying to be more "adult" than she needed to be and now that she is an adult she doesn't really know what to do. She definitely has a "renegade heart" as well. On the one hand she wants Harry but on the other she longs to be free of the weight of love. Also, I found this song via one of Harry's infamous "lyric tweets." :)
As for new follower S/O's...
This time we have: anBhanrion, Thewastelands, Celestial_Child, Hibaakh, christofersmagic and PunkRockGeek!!!!
Thanks so much for following and I hope I don't disappoint!
Invite your friends to read and follow and leave me some feedback in the comments!! I love hearing from yall!!!!
Until Next Time,
WBN