safely?
Harry: Haven, seriously, let me know you’re not in a ditch.
All three had been sent last night. Before or after he was having his brains fucked out, I wondered. I turned away from Luke and Ash, I didn’t want them to see my grin spilling out as I replied. I liked that he was worried for me and that he was kind enough not to mention my pyjamas. I quickly typed out a response.
Haven: Not in a ditch.
“I have to get in the shower. I feel like I slept with a tramp last night,” I said, leaving Luke and Ash to their flirting.
I pulled my phone from my bag to text to Harry. He hadn’t replied to my not in a ditch comment yesterday, but I hadn’t expected him to. Now, I needed to be back in work mode.
Haven: I’ll rearrange our next set visit. Can you let me know when you will next grace us with your presence?
I tried to immerse myself in the Sandy research, to get my head in the game, but I couldn’t stop thinking about Harry’s texts to me over the weekend and our conversations the previous week. I was like a teenager, playing it over and over in my head. It was embarrassing to admit, even to myself but I liked the attention. He was different. He didn’t take my bullshit, but he cared enough to call me on it. Millie, from what I remember of her, was exactly who I would put with someone like him. Tall, beautiful, head to toe designer everything. I would have to run into him dressed in pyjamas. How mortifying. And as if I didn’t have enough to be embarrassed about, I’d actually called him “licky”.
I kept checking my phone, but no reply. He was clearly doing something far more important than worrying about his day job. Or texting me.
It was gone seven when he finally texted back.
Harry: Sorry, busy day. I’m around Thursday and Friday if that works. Glad you’re not in a ditch.
I grinned and set about making the arrangements for later in the week.
I arrived at the studios almost half an hour before Harry and I had agreed to meet in the parking lot. I hadn’t wanted to leave the engine running, so I was gradually getting colder and colder in the car. I’d resorted to covering myself with a blanket that Luke made me keep on the back seat for emergencies. I’d closed my eyes for only a second when tapping on the window jolted me awake.
“Did you sleep here?” Harry asked through the glass.
What? I threw the blanket off me and got out of the car. Why did he always catch me in the most embarrassing situations?
“You looked comfortable. How long were you there?” he asked.
I shrugged.
“Am I late?” he asked.
“No. I’m just always early.”
“So you can nap when you arrive?” He started laughing at me.
“Shut up,” I snapped. “Where’s your car?”
He thumped the roof of the car next to mine. Now it was my turn to laugh. “Did you rent the Aston Martin? Trying to impress your date? Did it get you laid?”
“Fuck off. It’s at home. I have two.”
I opened my mouth to call him spoiled, but he put his hand across my mouth. “I know, I’m a spoiled little rich boy. Don’t be so predictable, Haven. Think of something new to say.”
“Jesus, someone’s touchy,” I replied when he took his hand away.
“I just don’t want to deal with your crap today.” He was scowling at me. I must have misread his texts over the weekend. I’d tricked myself into thinking that maybe he liked me that he was flirting with me. I’d got it all wrong. I was mortified at my mistake. Better to be angry than hurt, I lashed out.
“My crap? My crap? I’ve said barely a word. You’re the one who’s giving me crap.” I poked him in the chest and he grabbed my hand. I twisted my fingers to try and break away, but he held them firm.
“Stop, Haven,” he said. He wasn’t taking his eyes off me.
My heart was racing. “You’re the one that started it this morning—”
“Stop,” he said again, his gaze boring into me.
“Let go of me,” I said, my anger dissipating as his
Harry: Haven, seriously, let me know you’re not in a ditch.
All three had been sent last night. Before or after he was having his brains fucked out, I wondered. I turned away from Luke and Ash, I didn’t want them to see my grin spilling out as I replied. I liked that he was worried for me and that he was kind enough not to mention my pyjamas. I quickly typed out a response.
Haven: Not in a ditch.
“I have to get in the shower. I feel like I slept with a tramp last night,” I said, leaving Luke and Ash to their flirting.
I pulled my phone from my bag to text to Harry. He hadn’t replied to my not in a ditch comment yesterday, but I hadn’t expected him to. Now, I needed to be back in work mode.
Haven: I’ll rearrange our next set visit. Can you let me know when you will next grace us with your presence?
I tried to immerse myself in the Sandy research, to get my head in the game, but I couldn’t stop thinking about Harry’s texts to me over the weekend and our conversations the previous week. I was like a teenager, playing it over and over in my head. It was embarrassing to admit, even to myself but I liked the attention. He was different. He didn’t take my bullshit, but he cared enough to call me on it. Millie, from what I remember of her, was exactly who I would put with someone like him. Tall, beautiful, head to toe designer everything. I would have to run into him dressed in pyjamas. How mortifying. And as if I didn’t have enough to be embarrassed about, I’d actually called him “licky”.
I kept checking my phone, but no reply. He was clearly doing something far more important than worrying about his day job. Or texting me.
It was gone seven when he finally texted back.
Harry: Sorry, busy day. I’m around Thursday and Friday if that works. Glad you’re not in a ditch.
I grinned and set about making the arrangements for later in the week.
I arrived at the studios almost half an hour before Harry and I had agreed to meet in the parking lot. I hadn’t wanted to leave the engine running, so I was gradually getting colder and colder in the car. I’d resorted to covering myself with a blanket that Luke made me keep on the back seat for emergencies. I’d closed my eyes for only a second when tapping on the window jolted me awake.
“Did you sleep here?” Harry asked through the glass.
What? I threw the blanket off me and got out of the car. Why did he always catch me in the most embarrassing situations?
“You looked comfortable. How long were you there?” he asked.
I shrugged.
“Am I late?” he asked.
“No. I’m just always early.”
“So you can nap when you arrive?” He started laughing at me.
“Shut up,” I snapped. “Where’s your car?”
He thumped the roof of the car next to mine. Now it was my turn to laugh. “Did you rent the Aston Martin? Trying to impress your date? Did it get you laid?”
“Fuck off. It’s at home. I have two.”
I opened my mouth to call him spoiled, but he put his hand across my mouth. “I know, I’m a spoiled little rich boy. Don’t be so predictable, Haven. Think of something new to say.”
“Jesus, someone’s touchy,” I replied when he took his hand away.
“I just don’t want to deal with your crap today.” He was scowling at me. I must have misread his texts over the weekend. I’d tricked myself into thinking that maybe he liked me that he was flirting with me. I’d got it all wrong. I was mortified at my mistake. Better to be angry than hurt, I lashed out.
“My crap? My crap? I’ve said barely a word. You’re the one who’s giving me crap.” I poked him in the chest and he grabbed my hand. I twisted my fingers to try and break away, but he held them firm.
“Stop, Haven,” he said. He wasn’t taking his eyes off me.
My heart was racing. “You’re the one that started it this morning—”
“Stop,” he said again, his gaze boring into me.
“Let go of me,” I said, my anger dissipating as his
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