Siren

Chapter Sixten

FIVE O'CLOCK COULDN'T HAVE COME FAST ENOUGH. When the mini digital clock on the top right corner of my laptop screen hits the top of the hour, I stand instantly. There is nothing of utter importance keeping me here but there is a man, hopefully, waiting for me downstairs.

I pass Stephanie at her desk as I leave in a rush and she laughs at me.

"Have fun," she says. I brush her laughter off with a half-hearted wave of my hand as I make my way to the elevators.

I'm excited to see him. I can picture him all tall and lean, standing against a slick black car. For some reason, I'm picturing a pair of sunglasses and my mouth waters.

I'm also excited to see what he has planned for our evening events.

When the elevator brings me to the first floor, I feel a burst of nervous energy burst in the pit of my stomach. As I walk out of the revolving glass doors I shuffle inside of my purse. I can't look like I'm searching for him, as if he is the brightest point of my day even though he definitely is.

When I finally look up, I am looking right at my day dream of Harry. He's standing in front of the Range Rover, aviators covering his eyes and failing to mask his identity. He is talking to another girl and for a second, jealousy gets the best of me until I realize that she just wants to take a photo with him.

I don't walk over to them, I am uninterested in being questioned by this fan girl and I wouldn't have answers to the questions she would ask.

Harry looks up as she is talking to him and he looks around for a second before stopping. I can feel his gaze on me, hidden behind those sunglasses but just as hot as ever. His lips turn up and he looks away slowly.

Oh this girl needs to finish talking to him. She is playing with her phone and keeps looking at it. Holy fuck, she wants to get his number. I put my hand over my mouth, this is too funny.

Eventually, and reluctantly, she moves on with her day. Somewhere between excited and disappointed. Harry finds me again and I can't get to him fast enough.

I run up to him and wrap my arms around his neck and press my lips to his. His hands wrap around my waist, holding me to him tightly.

I don't know how long we stand like that but eventually, Harry realizes what he's doing and pulls back.

"Hello beautiful," he whispers in my ear. "We're making a scene." He opens the passenger side door for me and I climb in. As he is running around the car, I get a glimpse of what he was talking about. On the sidewalk in front of the building there are more than ten people staring at the car. And they all just saw my very public display of affection.

"I can't take you anywhere?" Harry says when he takes his seat and starts the car.

"Guess not," I say, smiling over at him. God he's gorgeous, his hair has more body than mine could ever hope for. And those lips of his; those damn lips could start wars.

"How was your day?" He asks.

"Good. I met with a few different designers over lunch and got to preview their spring collections." I say, taking the advice from Tammy. She told me not to reveal that I was a writer for a magazine, but instead was focused on the fashion. Getting to sit through meetings with designers was just another perk of this fable I'm telling. Plus, the appointment for a fitting.

"How was your day?"

"Nothing new," he shrugs. "A beautiful girl had me distracted all morning."

"She must be a pain," I say.

"Something like that." His smirk has me reeling. The smirk is unfair honestly, it's one of those arrogant facial expressions that leaves my body wanting more of it. He's got a bad boy side and I definitely want to see more of it.

"So, where are you taking me this time?" I ask him after a little while.

"There is this restaurant in St. Albans I am taking you to," he says as we come to a stop in the evening traffic of the city. We're so close to the city limits that hopefully we won't be stopped long, but it's always a gamble this time of day.

He leans back in his seat, taking his hands off the wheel. I can't stop looking at him, it's pathetic.

After ten minutes, it starts to rain and we still haven't moved more than three meters. Harry is getting irritable and I am trying not to find it so amusing.

"I hate traffic," he grumbles, smacking his hand on the center of the steering wheel. His horn sounds, adding to the noise of all the others around us and I loose it.

"What?" He asks, looking over at me. I'm laughing so hard, barely able to breathe. He's like a damn child who isn't getting his way!

"It's not funny?" He says, but even I can hear the smile coating his tone. He puts the car into park and takes off his seatbelt. "What's so funny?"

He is leaning over the center console, really close to my face and suddenly, it's not so funny. It's hot. My pulse is racing from my laughter and now his overwhelming proximity. He might as well be lying on top of me. I'm pressed against the window, his chest pressing against mine.

"Your laugh is perfect," he says, tracing my jaw bone with his thumb.

Outside, it's as if the honking has ceased to exist. Nothing outside of the confines of this car exists. It's just him and I.

And then a horn blares.

We both turn our heads to the front windshield to find the traffic slowly dissipating into the now heavy rain. Harry turns to me with the boyish smile of his.

"Perfect timing as usual." He chuckles as he sits back down in his seat and clicks his belt back into place. He puts the car into drive and speeds away, weaving in and out of traffic.

I don't even worry that he is driving recklessly, I want to get there as soon as possible. I haven't eaten since lunch and the sooner we get through the meal, the sooner he can work to get me back into his bed.