Million Dollar Man [H.S. AU]

Chapter Twenty five

She quickly drops her gaze.

"This was a bad idea. I shouldn't even be here." She replies, quickly turning away, but I catch her arm and turn her to face me before she can react.

"No, you're not going to show up to my home upset, and then leave without an explanation. You're coming home with me." I tell her, grabbing her arm and pulling her towards my penthouse.

She immediately fights back like I knew she would.

"Harry no." She complains, but Im stronger than her so in no time we're in front of my door.

She lets out a huff as I grab my key.

"I dont want to talk about it." She snaps, answering the question she knew I would ask.

"Is it about that ass hole boyfriend?" I ask as I unlock my door. Last time she came over. That was the reason. They had a fight and I ended up fucking her on my couch. It would make perfect sense if that's the reason she's here again.

I open the door before walking in side, but Andy as stubborn as she is, stays standing in the doorway, arms crossed as she stares at me wordlessly. So this is how she was going to be.

"Are you coming in?" I ask, still baffled that she would show up to my apartment in the first place.

"If you promise not to ask questions." She retorts quickly, her eyes still trained on me as she saves her stipulation. I consider this for a moment before I decide it's worth it. However I know she's not that stupid to think I'll actually agree to her request.

"Fine. Take a seat. I'll grab drinks." I reply with a huff as I grab my good bottle of scotch from underneath my sink. I was going to save it for a rainy day, but seeing as how Andy already opened it, then what the hell.

I watch her as she closes the door behind her and takes a seat on my couch. Her movements are very quiet and hesitant, the complete opposite of how she is every other time I've been with her. Is this the same reason that she's been crying?

I grab the bottle and two glasses before I join her on the couch. I pour her a glass on the coffee table, her eyes following my every moment as I hand her the drink.

"Thanks." She mutters before pressing her lips against the glass. I make my own drink before taking a long swig. Andy remains silent, neither one of us saying anything for several minutes. I watch as she stares off in the distance, her pale lips tugged into a frown and her eyes tired and worn as she continues to think about whatever is on her mind that brought her to my apartment. That simple thought begins to eat at me. Why is she here?

"Are you going to tell me what's wrong with you?" I decide to say, breaking the solid 15 minutes of silence we've created. Her eyes don't move from the spot she's focussed on .

"I thought you agreed not to ask that." She says, her voice sounding abnormally small. I stare at her, hoping she'll look at me. She doesnt and  I ignore her comment.

"why did you show up here and then try to leave before saying anything to me?" I ask, knowing she won't answer me. She finally looks at me, her eyes looking lifeless and dull.

"Why are you here?" She challeneges, avoiding my question. "Weren't you on your way out? Probably meeting a nightly hook up? I don't want to hold you back." She snaps, her voice attempting to hold the strength it normally does, but failing miserably. However her weak tone doesn't lessen the anger that arises from her comment. Ofcourse she thinks I'm a womanizer.

"If you must know, I was on my way to get drinks with Apsonas vp. But you're dumber than I thought your were if you think I'm going to leave you when you are obviously upset." I push back, downing the rest of my drink. She has some kind of nerve to show up here and make those kind of accusations about me. From the looks of it, she is in absolutely no position to be the judge mental one.

She doesn't come up with a fiery comeback, she instead looks away as tears glaze her eyes once again. But instead of her fighting them away, this time she embraces them, letting them fall from her eye lashes and streak her cheeks.

I stare at her not knowing what the hell to do. There is a crying girl on my couch. Not a girl, my business partner. Andy.

Horror fills my entire being as I try to rack my brain on what I should do. Hell, if I knew that this is the kind of response I was going to get from her then I would've just kept my mouth shut when she told me not to ask.

Her hand reaches to her face, using the Back to gently wipe them away, but then three more fall. I'm completely oblivious on what I should do. I feel extremely torn since I can't tell her to leave because I'm the one who invited her inside. Plus, I kind of don't want her to go. As much as I can't stand her sometimes, I also feel some weird sort of attraction towards her. That's why I yell at her one minute and kiss her the next.

Before I know what I'm doing Im closing in the small amount of space with my body. I wrap my arms around her, pulling her into my chest.

I have no idea what I'm doing, I've never done this before. Ever. I've never had anyone to comfort before, but I think this is right. It feels right. She immediately wraps her arms around me which is a good sign, but then her crying becomes louder until she's actually sobbing. Her body is shaking and her breathing has become irregular and all I can do is stare down in horror.

Did I do something wrong? Should I not have touched her? But I can't pull away since her grip is so tight. My hands feel so awkward just laying on her back, so I decide to move them up and down, gently rubbing her. I pull her closer to me so she's now sitting on my lap. I rest my chin on her shoulder and let her cry. I don't try to quiet her down or give her advice.I just let her sit there and cry. I don't know if that's right, but I think it is. It feels like the right thing to do.

I don't know how long we sit there like that. Maybe thirty minutes? It may have been an hour. But I didn't want to rush her. If someone as strong and independent as Andrea Fraiser Junior showed up to my door vulnerable and upset and showed me such an emotional side, than I could be there for as long as she needed without judgment or spite, to be there for her. More importantly, I wanted to be there for her. Maybe it was sick, but I'm glad I was the one she picked to go to to cry.