Entitled . HS

TWENTY-SEVEN.

As Friday approached, my nerves over having dinner with my boss, and my boyfriend's dad (who just happened to be the same person) grew to a level of completely taking over my body. I was standing in the middle of Harris' bedroom in my underwear, staring at his open closet and pursuing the portion of it that has come to house my clothing.

"That is a sight for sore eyes," Harris says as he comes into the bedroom, taking his clothes off from his yoga class. "Have you showered yet?" he asked before he fully approached.

"No," I said, shaking my head. That was an invitation for him to come over and greet me with his whole sweaty body, instead of just a kiss. I couldn't help the fact that I was stiff and uninterested in the touches that he was trailing all over my body in an attempt to get a quickie in before we showered and went to work. He kissed down my neck and I finally had to tell him to stop. 'Focus, Harris. I have no idea what I'm wearing today."

He kept his arms wrapped around my lower back, remaining hunched over so his mouth was in proximity to whisper in my ear. "Everything you wear to work looks fantastic on you," he cooed.

"Not helping," I said, pushing off of me. I was trying to be nice about it, but he really wasn't helping the thudding of my heart or the cold feeling taking over the inside of my chest and stomach. I was on the edge of panicking and his complete disregard for that was only making things worse. "Can you just pick something?"

He moved us both towards his closet and reached his hands out and grabbed the navy blue pants and sweater that he bought me in Seattle. He even took the shoes that matched off the shoe rack in the corner. "This. I love this on you."

Before I could stop myself, the word vomit came out with all sorts of colorful anxieties. "But, is it appropriate for dinner? Are we going right after work or do we need to change? I don't know what kind of place your dad is bringing us to and what the dress code is. I mean, it is one of those places with twenty pieces of silverware. Oh, god. I am not ready for a place like that..."

He turns me in his arms and more tightly wraps himself around me. "Atty. Baby," he pleads. My dad is not like that. We are going to a steakhouse because they have good food, and anything you wear to work will be perfectly appropriate. I am not planning to change, but if you would like to bring something extra in the car, you can. As for these nerves that have bubbled up inside of you, what can I do to help them go away?" He took the back of his fingers and pushed my hair behind my shoulder and continued to kiss dizzying kisses down my skin.

"This..." I suttutered. "This is working out." I said, breathily, because he had a way of using his body to pull me out of my moments of anxiety. His hands roamed my naked body, removing my underwear before he lifted me up and carried me into the shower for a quickie up against the tile wall. He took just long enough to squash my nerves, but not so long that we were late to work.

When lunch at Sinclair rolled around, Hannah and I snuck out before anyone else could follow us. I needed time alone with her to discuss what I was going to do for dinner tonight with Harris and he happily granted me lunch with my friend, since we were going to be sharing dinner. We were walking a few blocks away to get some soup, since I didn't really feel like filling my stomach with crap at that moment. She tucked her scarf tighter to battle the wind, then looked over at me. "OK. So, tell me what the big deal is exactly? I mean you already know his dad."

"I'm aware that I already know him," I scoff. "But I don't know him outside of Sinclair. I also don't know how to act around him because I didn't know if Harris ever had a conversation with him about the tuition money and that means that I have no idea what the expectations are of me after I graduate because of that."

"Maybe there are no expectations. He just saw that you were talented and didn't want you to struggle?"

"Or maybe he wanted to stake a claim on me, and now I'll be stuck at Sinclair as an assistant editor forever," I replied with sass.