Eucalyptus & Honey |H.S.|

Chapter 4 - Turns Out She's a Devil

A/N: This is the only smut warning I will be providing throughout the book...have fun

"Angel baby?" asked Harry, and I realized I had been staring. We still sat in the unmoving Mercedes and I couldn't seem to remember Harry asking a question. I was too fucking busy trying to not have a heart attack with the way he was staring at me.

"What?" I said with an unnecessary amount of annoyance.

"I said, where to?"

"Do you even know my name?" The words were poison on my tongue. I didn't really want to know the answer. It felt too heavy; even though that is one of the most basic things to know about a person. But I also wanted to avoid thinking about the fact that he would be taking me home. Alone.

He gave a clipped laugh as he shifted the gears, beginning to drive despite that fact I hadn't given him an address yet. His knuckles lightly grazed the fabric covering my thigh as it rested on the gear shift. 

I pressed my thighs together, partly out of desire, and partly to give myself as much distance from his touch as possible. My actions didn't escape his notice, and his confident grin made an appearance.

Finally, he said, "Of course I know your fucking name, Stevie," his voice sounded almost mocking. He was driving in the opposite direction of my house, but I decided not to correct him yet. I knew it was because I had some fucked up, masochistic desire to spend more time with him. But I justified it to myself by claiming it was to see the exasperated look on his face when I told him. 

"Then fuckin' use it, pretty." The term of endearment came out before I could stop it, and my cheeks burned. I hoped the sarcasm in my voice disguised it as mocking, rather than what it truly was.

The shock on his face told me it didn't. Fucking great.

"Pretty, huh?" I ignored him.

"Turn around."

"What?" He asked, almost sounding worried—like he'd done something wrong. I smirked at the tone and replied, "You're taking me home, yeah?"

"Yeah, angel, so why the fuck do u want me to turn around?"

"Because, pretty," I said, and he rolled his lips in an attempt to hide his smile, causing his cheeks to dimple, "you don't know where the fuck you're going. I live in the opposite direction. Turn around."

I could feel his stare on my heated cheek and I turned to face him. His brows were furrowed. "Were you just gonna let me drive around all night like a fucking idiot?"

I couldn't tell if he was actually annoyed or not, and I laughed, hoping he'd keep his good mood. "Not all night. Just long enough that you'd feel a like a fucking idiot. It's kind of the least you deserve."

At this, he looked genuinely confused and seemed to be turning something over in his mind. "I—you mean earlier?"

"Yeah, Harry," I said, annoyed that I accidentally made things awkward, "earlier. You were kind of a complete dick. I still have no fucking idea why you're suddenly treating me all nice again. Probably just trying to fuck me again." I was aware that I was rambling, but I couldn't seem to stop. It was likely due to the leftover effects of the alcohol running its course through my veins.

I mumbled the last part, more to myself, but he still seemed to hear when I said, "If it was as good for you as it was for me, I really couldn't blame you, though."

"Then you can't blame me, baby." My heart dropped to my stomach at the same time my mouth fell open. He looked in my direction, resting his eyes on my lips for a moment, before turning back towards the road. His hand was brushing my thigh again, since I had turned slightly to face him.