Flashing lights blind my vision as I make my way out of Harry's office, his body behind me fairly quickly. His arms shove back everyone around me to force them away from us, Harry's defense aiding in my care. He's so amazing.
"Get in the car," he tells me, opening the door to his car. He shuts the door and walks to the other side, sitting beside me. His driver pulls out onto the street and my hand is taken in Harry's.
"You're freezing," he mumbles, kissing my fingers. Before I get the chance to say something, he's taking off his jacket and wrapping it around me, kissing my forehead lightly.
"Thank you."
He smiles and wraps his arm around my shoulders, brushing my hair back with his fingers. I've grown so close to him lately and he fills the happiness void I'd been wearing for years. Since our extremely steaming night a couple days ago, we've done nothing of the sexual sort. All the nights I slept over were movie nights and sweet kissing. Last night, we were on the phone until early morning and I went to work and slept. Greystone never found out, thankfully.
"I finished our manuscript today. I'm e-mailing it to you tonight," he tells me, kissing my cheek repeatedly. He has been showing a ton of affection lately and I'm addicted to it.
"Are you publishing this one?" He nods and tells me I need an alias.
"I have no idea. Fake names weren't really original for me."
He smiles and the car pulls into an expensive restaurant, Harry walking out before me. My door is opened and he holds his hand out, my fingers forming into his. He leads me into the restaurant that had yet to be bombarded with paparazzi, and we're seated immediately. The table is round and slightly small; both of us close to each other. Our conversations will be very private in this setting.
"Drinks, Sir?" the server asks, his white beard scuffed along his cheeks.
"A bottle of your finest white wine," Harry says, the man handing us menus.
With a nod, he walks away and I lift the menu to view my options. As my eyes scan the food selections, a finger hooks in the top and I peer up at Harry. His cheeky smile is bright and I smile back, his hand taking mine.
"I wanted to ask you something," he says, my fingers placing the menu beside me.
"Of course."
He takes a deep breath and laces our fingers tightly, my eyes in a trance at the beautiful man in front of me.
"I've, uh, never actually asked a girl this before. Not even..." he trails, my thoughts going to his picture. Violet, I believe her name was.
"You, Reagan, have been a first for so many things for me. You've thrown me for a loop and I'm torn at what to feel. Emotions are something I've blocked out for almost my entire life. Yeah, Violet was something, but you're so different. Different in the most amazing way."
My heart nearly melts. Oh, he is so good with words.
"What I'm trying to say is, is that you are making me feel something again. You've captivated all my senses and I've found myself wanting to be around you at all times. And by me saying that, I want to ask you, formally, to be my girlfriend," he says, my lips curving. I squeeze his hand tighter and see a faint blush over-riding his dimpled cheeks.
"I would love that," I smile, kissing his fingers lightly.
The server returns with the wine and Harry smiles at me, my eyes falling onto our connected fingers. I order the clam chowder and Harry orders lobster, allowing the server to retrieve the menus.
"I want to ask you a question now," I say, slightly worrying about the outcome of my question.
"Anything."
"What was Violet like?" I ask, his eyes blinking a few times to process my words. Oh no; I've upset him.
His hand scratches his cheek and he cranes his neck from side to side, my eyes viewing him cautiously.
"She was short. I was nearly a foot taller than her and I constantly wanted to have her. Since that was the year my father came back, I confided in her. She was my everything and she was the only person I gave the time of day to. She had bright brown eyes and long brown hair; one of the reasons I never went for brunettes. But she told me the day after I gave her myself, that she would never do anything to hurt me. We dated for a few years and I was so ready to ask her to marry me, but what does she do? She goes to one of my best mates and starts fucking him. She fucked him for two years during the time we dated. I was done for," he says, my fingers holding his tightly.
"So I went after him. I found him and beat him up until he was nearly dead on the ground. Violet hated me and told me to stay out of her life, but I couldn't. I 'loved' her so much and I was on my knees, begging for her to take me back. That's why when your ex-boyfriend came, I was so upset after I punched him. Fear surged through me knowing you could have left like Violet did," he flinches.
"I'm not her. You are so important to me," I tell him, his lips pressing to the back of my hand.
A smile pulls over his lips, the bright orbs intense. There is no one I've ever admired at this altitude before; Harry the only person that has caught my attention.
"You're smarter than her," he says, my lip taken between my teeth.
"Intelligence is the sexiest thing a girl could have," he whispers, my cheeks flaming.
He chuckles and lets go of my hand, the server placing our food before us. I thank him, his smile slight as he leaves with an abrupt nod.
Harry and I make small talk as we eat, nothing much too important being said. It’s the small things he does that make my heart flutter.
“I want to let you know that I booked us a flight for next week,” he says, my head nodding.
My stomach drops to the floor, finding my social skills lacking. He wants me to meet his family already and we’ve only been seeing each other nearly two months. This is insane.
“That’s fine. I’ll ask Greystone to have the week off,” I say, Harry frowning.
“He’s a bit of a jag, if I remember him correctly.”
My eyes blink and he smiles, grabbing my hand again. “Have you met Greystone before?” I inquire, suddenly intrigued by Harry’s endeavor.
“I believe he’s going bankrupt and I’m buying his company right now,” he smiles, my jaw dropping. Harry could be my new boss.
“That being said, I don’t want you working at that office. You are to work in my offices and I will talk to you only. You are my girlfriend and the newspapers can make up any bullshit story they want, because I want you here with me. I find myself in an relationship with you and it benefits me during and after work. You will be my best associate and I can be there to protect you from the disgusting CEO of Greystone Publishing.”
My eyes twinkle with delight at this information. Yes, I understand co-workers should not date. But Harry isn’t a co-worker; he’s my boyfriend before anything else. No one knows our story and they never will. Harry and I are very personal.
“You don’t care about the lies?” I ask, his head shaking.
“I’m taking care of you. You’re my first priority and I want to make sure you are safe. You being in the same building as me will ensure that,” he says, kissing the back of my hand.
The server returns and Harry orders something in French, the man understanding it easily. His sausage fingers take our plates and he saunters back into the kitchen, Harry leaning over the table to talk to me better.
“I really do wish I was your first,” he whispers, caressing my cheek with his thumb.
“What type of first? Because you’ve been my first at a lot of things,” I sigh, gazing upon his stunning green orbs.
“Virginity, first. I would have waited so long just to make sure you would sign that contract, only to figure you are more than a sheet of paper. Oh my God, you are so much more,” he breathes, kissing my fingertips.
“Trust me, I wish you were too. Ian was horrible and hurt me so badly. He kept slapping me, disregarding the immense pain it was in-between my legs,” I flinch.
This topic is so harsh to my tongue; Harry seeming to sooth me. He’s so understanding to my situation and I believe in him. The way he gently watches me enables me to see how caring he really is.
“I don’t hurt you, do I?” he pales, my head shaking.
“No, no, Harry. No, you are easy with me and I thank you for that.”
My hand presses to his forehead, running my thumb over the crease between his eyebrows.
“It, honestly, sickens me to think I could be hurting you. My intentions are to make you happy and pleased. Your smile is what made me want you. Oh, your smile,” he grins, my lips curving as I stifle a laugh.
“You’re the most beautiful girl I have ever seen,” he compliments, kissing my cheek lightly before pulling away. The server arrives in seconds and a slice of cheesecake with strawberries resides on the plate that’s set between us.
“Enjoy,” the server smiles, walking away. Turning my head to look at Harry, he smiles and I lean across the table, kissing his dimple.
“You’re cute,” he comments, my laugh quiet.
“As are you, Mr. Styles,” I state, taking a strawberry and popping it into my mouth.
He forks some cheesecake and places it into his mouth, pulling the fork out. His lips are perfection.
“What is it that interests you most in English?” he asks, my fork pushing around a strawberry.
“Conflict and resolution. It’s the greatest form of torture there is,” I smile, his fork placing near my lips. I eat the piece of cheesecake and enjoy the delectable flavor.
“I burned my torture equipment,” he mumbles, my eyes looking at him.
“What?” I gape, his fingers scratching the top of his head.
“That room…I showed you. I took everything out and burned it. It was the past and I needed change. You,” he says, stopping as I momentarily close my eyes.
“You are the only thing I have going for me,” he says, my eyes building with tears. No one has ever spoken such passionate words to me before. He spoke as though his life has been nothing until me; the feeling overwhelmingly adoring.
“No, no. Please don’t cry. Please, Reagan,” he says, rushing to my side with his chair. He sits beside me and I curl into his side, his thumbs wiping away the droplets on my cheeks.
“Don’t cry, baby. Please,” he whispers into my hair, kissing my ear and holding me as I feel his words.
“I have never felt this way before,” I whisper, his neck incredibly warm as he comforts me.
“You are the only one I’ve ever told anything to and believe me; my emotions are coming out again. Please, believe me,” he pleads, my head nodding.
“I-I need to get home before I’m a mess on the floor,” I tell him, his head nodding. He stands and walks to the front, paying the bill as I wrap his jacket around me again. Harry grabs my hand and kisses my knuckles, walking me out of the restaurant. We rush into the car, his driver pulling out of the parking lot and onto the road.
“Take us to her apartment,” Harry tells the man, his head nodding sharply. We pull in front of my apartment building and I turn towards Harry, meeting his eyes.
“Will you stay with me?” I ask, his lips parted lightly as he looks at me.
“Yes. Absolutely.”
He opens his door and aids me out, telling the driver to pick us up tomorrow. I’ve never seen a driver before. Harry is loaded but I try to forget that. Money is stupid.
Taken into Harry’s grasp, he holds me tightly to him and I struggle with my keys. I open the door and Harry shuts it behind us, locking it.
“I think I have some of your clothes here. A tee and some sweatpants,” I elaborate, his fingers brushing against my cheek. He kisses me and I close my eyes. He’s so wonderful.
After he pulls away and I slowly open my eyes, meeting his. How is he so beautiful?
“Please don’t be afraid of me,” he says, needing him to calm down.
“I’m not afraid. I’ve never been afraid,” I tell him, assuring him quickly. My hand grabs his and I lead him into my bedroom, seeing a note on my door from Grace. She’s out of town.
Harry pulls me into him and I place my hands over his, feeling his lips tickle my neck. I smile and he spins me around, pulling my chest to his.
“Do you have music?” he asks, my head nodding. I shed his jacket and he turns on my fairy lights and bedside lamp, lighting the room better.
“Debussy?” he asks after I press play. I nod and walk back to him, his arm snaking around my waist.
“One of my all-time favorites,” I whisper, his fingers folding into mine.
His feet start moving and we dance, my head resting on his shoulder. I’ve never felt so encased in warmth before; Harry reviving me of everything I had once thought was real. Once when I thought something so real turned into something so fake. I just hope I don’t get hurt this time.
“Your shoulders are really tense,” I tell him, his chuckle ringing through my ear.
“Stress, baby. Lots of stress,” he whispers, my hand holding his tighter.
I close my eyes and kiss his neck, admiration for the man in front of me at the absolute maximum. After we finish a few songs, he places his lips to my forehead. The grip he held on me is dropped and I open the drawers to my dresser, grabbing his white tee and a pair of his plaid boxers I stole one time I stayed over.
He changes and I do as well, telling Harry to sit on the edge of the bed. As I climb onto the bed, I wrap my legs around his waist from behind and I begin to massage his shoulders. His hands set on my legs and I hold him close to me, moving my fingers against his loosening muscles. His muscles never cease to amaze me. There is a known in our relationship and that is our undeniable understanding and his proved strength.
“When is your birthday?” I ask him, taking my bottom lips between my teeth.
“February 1. What about you?” he inquires, my fingers effortlessly moving across his shoulders.
“November 2,” I tell him, glancing around my room. His hands grab mine and he pulls them forward, my arms wrapping around his shoulders from behind.
“You’re birthday is in a month,” he says, my lips curving.
“I know,” I smile, looking at him from over his shoulder.
“And why didn’t you tell me?” he asks, smirking at me. Damn, those lips.
“Because I have never, not once, celebrated my birthday,” I say truthfully. I never celebrated my birthday.
“Good news. We are this year,” he says, lifting me onto his back and walking out of my room. I hold him close and he walks to my kitchen, placing me down on the counter.
“Coffee?” he asks, my head nodding. He pours me a mug as well as himself, taking my hand as he stands between my legs.
“Do you want to do something?” I ask, his head nodding.
“You have a laptop?” I nod.
“Let’s watch a movie.”
---
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