Un-Tying the Knot {h.s.}

Chapter 43*

"I'm — "

"Can we — "

We both nervously laugh again as we interrupt each other for the second time, but I let him take the lead.

"Can I take you to lunch?" He asks.

I nod. "Sure, but uh — think we can order take out and go back to your office or my place? I certainly don't think we want Eleanor to see us out. You know she has eyes and ears everywhere, and uh — she's pissed."

He makes a strangled groan, but nods.

"Mind if we go to your place? I'm, uh — I'm still staying at the office," he admits, hand running nervously up and down the back of his neck.

I nod, turning around and leading him back to my car, both of his getting in and doing our best to ignore the awkward silence between us.

"What, uh — what are you even doing here anyway?" He asks.

"Oh," I mumble, putting my keys in the ignition. "Eleanor had been making comments about me going to the gym. And now that you guys are, uh, over — she's making all of the assistants join her in her new health kick. Unfortunately, I'm the, uh, thickest of all of them, you know — cause I'm not stick thin like a model — so she's making me go see a personal trainer on top of our group exercise sessions. Today was supposed to be my first day."

Harry immediately gets angry on the inside, fists clenching. I'm too busy driving to notice. Of course Eleanor would try and force his Livvy into looking like her.

"You're perfect the way you are, love," he finally offers, looking out the window as we drive. It's been forever since he's been in a normal car, not a fancy limo or car Eleanor hand picked. He looks over at me, watching my jaw clench as I weave through traffic. He simply reaches his hand across the console, his palm resting over the top of my hand.

I look up at him, shocked — jerking the wheel slightly.

"Eyes on the road, love."

I bite my bottom lip, nodding as I look back. An awkward, yet oddly comfortable silence surrounds us as he intertwines our fingers.

"Where do you live, Livvy?" He asks, realizing he had no idea, watching as he sees neighborhoods pass by the window he hadn't seen before. "I feel like I don't know anything about you."

I laugh at the absurdity of it all. "North Hollywood. The Arts District."

He nods, that odd silence falling around us. He flicks on the radio, changing the station until he heard the new song by Niall Horan come on.

"Good jam," he offered, letting his fingertips tap out the beat to 'Slow Hands,' the lyrics hitting him as hard as the smell of my cherry shampoo.

Dover, Delaware.

He wishes he could go five minutes without thinking about me in sexually compromising situations. But ever since England, and especially after his birthday, it was nearly impossible.

After a twenty minute ride that felt more like forty, I park the car in my building. Once outside, I lead him to the elevator, biting my lip as we ride up to the fourth floor in silence.

"Umm...I just, you know — want you to know I wasn't exactly expecting guests, so umm — my apartment may not be the cleanest."

He laughs. "Olivia — I'm living in an office that I've slept in for almost a week now. I'm sure it's great."

We were both kind of nervous as we made our way to my door, and I jiggled my keys before slipping them in the lock.