Resolution

19. Flaws

I was thankful that he hadn't really asked about Ben or any of my previous relationships, because that subject was really difficult to talk about. Ben was really my only real relationship, and it had ended about as awfully as one could. I think he avoided the topic because it never seemed to go well, usually resulting in tension or an irritated argument.

My attention was brought back to the moment when his deep tone washed over me once more, responding to my question I had almost forgotten I'd asked.

"We were in the middle of a riveting conversation about our favorite colors," he said, an undercurrent of sarcasm to his tone.

"Oh," I said, laughing. That must have been one of the questions I had somehow managed to ask him while my brain was too busy processing the way his jaw flexed when he smiled. "What was it again?"

"Blue. And yours is green."

I blinked, not having remembered saying so but instantly knowing why. There was a very specific green that was my favorite, and I happened to be looking at it at that moment in his eyes. I don't think I'd ever seen such a beautiful shade of green.

"Very good," I said, smiling. I hadn't told him that I'd meant his eye color, specifically, and didn't really want to. He reached to grab his beer, his hand distracting me as the veins on the back emerged from his skin while he swallowed the remaining contents. We had both finished our meals, or at least eaten as much as possible. He had been right, of course, when he said that the food was delicious; I didn't think I'd ever had a more delicious burger.

My eyes watched his hand release his beer and slide under the table, disappearing from sight before I felt his fingers close over my knee. Heat immediately seared through my jeans into my skin, the touch I had been craving all night finally making impact. His wide palm completely covered the expanse of my leg, his long fingers easily reaching around the sides as he squeezed lightly.

"So now what, Halle?" His gaze burned through me once more as he leaned over the table, his chest pressing into the edge as he spoke quietly to me. What I really wanted to do was jump across the table, but I knew I couldn't do that.

"Um, I don't know," I said, wracking my brain for something that would help diffuse the tension flooding through my body.

"We could go back to mine?" he asked. It was impossible to miss his suggestive tone, despite his efforts to appear casual. I was extremely tempted to accept immediately, wanting nothing more than to feel his body and relieve some of the tension that I'd subjected myself to my studying him so closely all night. His hand crept a bit higher up my thigh, his fingers tickling the inside of my leg.

I jumped when the waitress appeared and set the check down on the table, snapping me out of the spell Harry had cast over me. I shook my head and leaned back, only just realizing I had been leaning ridiculously far over the table towards Harry. I was physically pulled to him, and there was nothing I could do to stop it.

He cocked an eyebrow at me, his lips parted slightly and I nearly choked. He really wasn't playing fair, and he knew it. I opened my mouth to protest when he reached for the bill, his hand sliding off my leg to pull his wallet from the back pocket of his jeans and slide some cash into the book.

"Nope, shut up," he said, stopping me before I could even suggest we split it. I snapped my mouth shut and smiled at him.

"Thank you," I grinned.

"Yeah, no problem. So back to mine?" he asked again, shoving his hands down the fronts of his thighs and looking at me expectantly. I frowned.

"No," I replied after an internal debate.