The Publicist's Plight (Book I in The Harrison Inc. Series) | ✓

Chapter Sixty: Unorthodox Introductions

I offered to keep Leslie company until she fell asleep. No stings attached, no wandering hands or rotten intentions.

"Please?" she replies after my proposition. Keep in mind she still has her arms wrapped around me; her chin is on my chest as she looks up at me.

I take off my shoes as she breaks apart from me, wiping her eyes. Out of habit, I almost unbutton my pants. Good thing I don't go there.

"Do you mind?" I tell her when I unbutton my shirt and take off my tie. "I have trouble sleeping with more layers than I need to."

She shrugs. After tonight, I doubt anything will make her uncomfortable unless I take my pants off.

Don't worry—I have an undershirt on. I see it in her eyes; for a moment, she thought I was bare chested under this shirt. I would be, but for some reason the buttons on turn-down shirts irritate my skin.

I climb onto the bed and situate myself on top of the covers. It's a bit smaller than the bed I have at home, but near nothing to complain about; the area around her bed smells like lavender and something else really good that I can't pin point, whereas other rooms I've "found" myself in the past smelled like a mixture of pussy, vodka, failure and cigarettes.

Don't ask.

I gesture for her to come to me. "You sleep standing up?"

Her lips curl up into a smile. Slowly, Leslie climbs onto the mattress and lays next to me. I wrap an arm around her shoulder, pulling her closer to me until her head rests on my chest.

I sigh into the dark air. "Well, this is the most G-Rated thing I've ever done with a woman in bed."

I can feel the vibration of her laughter on me. "I can imagine."

The apartment is eerily quiet, but there's a sense of company in the silence and companionship of Leslie next to me.

"Do you want me to go turn off the lights?" I ask her, looking at the bright hallway.

"No, it's okay. The lights turn off by themselves; motion sensors."

And like clockwork, the apartment is suddenly dark with the exception of natural light from outside her bedroom window.

Convenient.

Leslie shifts, making herself more comfortable on me. I tense up; I can't remember the last time I've cuddled with a woman like this. Shit like that is annoying to me. But it isn't annoying now—just awkward and anxious. There's a lot I want to ask her, but I feel that once I start asking the wrong things it will ruin what we have right now.

My phone lights up in my pocket, and I remember all the shit I left behind upon offering to take Leslie home.

"Are you with Leslie? Felicity is going crazy right now," Sarah texts me. Fuck, I completely forgot about her. I stare at the screen a while longer. Do I even text back?

Nope.

"I'm pretty sure you're missed at the party," Leslie says quietly when I turn off my phone.

I look down to her, and she looks up at me. "I enjoy being here a lot more." I tell her; it's the truth.

A small grin appears from what I can see of her. The calmness and serenity of Leslie's face is enough to make the panic more bearable; Sarah is going to chop my balls off the next time she sees me for leaving the party and ignoring her text, and I'm not too excited about that.

As we lay together, Leslie far from falling asleep, I can't help the curiosity plaguing my brain about everything she told me and everything that happened to her tonight. It's like falling face-first into a goldmine.