[Neither of them promised forever, yet it hurt all the same.]
River Hamilton cannot afford to fall for just anyone. To continue the legacy of her family the only way she can, she must eventually marry someone she may not want to spend the rest of he...
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R.HAMILTON
If Saturdays were half days, Sundays had the right to be closed days. It gave plenty of opportunity for the staff to enjoy their access to the Hamilton Clubhouse—or as most preferred, away from it.
Most but not Harry Styles.
Surprise struck River from head to toe when she happened to set eyes on the enemy. Dramatic approach perhaps but true nevertheless. For no one opposed threat to River Hamilton like Harry Styles. Their arguments, though verbal and never harsher than what she experienced with her brothers, nicked away at her with every occasion. Entertaining, certainly, so maybe she had no reason to have such stand against the man.
Harry positioned himself. Measured the distance. Swung.
Almost perfect. The fault in his swing laid in his posture. No foundation to build great stability. His hands gripped the golf club just as someone who's never played golf before would.
Looking at his form now, River understood why he lost that random game between them a while ago.
The one they played the week of the theatre. It was impulsive on River's end because she made herself sweaty and late for a board meeting. Granted, she had a swell time beating the manager into the green grass with every perfect swing.
Now, though, as she watched and physically cringed, she chose to stop her own game.
"Stick out your ass," she heard herself say, voice echoing back to her. River leaned on her golf club and crossed her foot over the other.
Harry seemed caught off guard as he snapped his head backwards. Voice low, he swore, and palmed his chest over his white crewneck like it would ease the rapid beating of his heart. Silk-like chocolate curls blew with the wind, parted down the middle like a Prince. River couldn't help it when her eyes shifted lower, and lower, then leisurely took in the firmness of his thighs, both of them revealed by the forest green cotton shorts he wore.
Unaffected by River's obvious stare down, Harry turned away, slotted his golf club with the rest then started pulling it away from her. Without a comment.
The—lack of—reaction made River tilt her head in confusion. What was his issue? Usually, he couldn't wait to bite back, and leave River with her blood boiling. Every time they interact, tension lingers in the air like the constant nagging feeling of anxiety. Strange, River concluded, how much she missed the come back from Harry.
Then again, to state she missed the reaction would imply she cared about the man. An assumption which couldn't be farther from the truth. No foundation laid beneath those ideas because... well, River didn't know Harry to begin with.
Besides, based on the fact that Harry disliked River for some unknown reason to her, is enough of a reason for River to not want to bother with him. Why waste energy on people who do not deserve it?
