Afterlife: Redemption

27

HARRY

Stubborn.

So fucking infuriating.

I've never met anyone who drives me straight to drink so much in my life.

Amazingly, beautiful, stubborn, infuriating girl.

My thoughts shifted from expletives to sonnets and back on a dime as I practically dragged Lane the short distance from my work to my flat. I didn't look over to her, nor did we speak the entire time. I knew I was walking faster than her legs could keep up, but I didn't care. I was about three seconds away from throwing her over my shoulder, slapping her ass hard, and stomping up to my apartment when we finally reached my building.

Thankfully, and surprisingly, she remained quiet. For a girl who was so verbose when confronting me outside my workplace moments ago, she sure quieted quickly. Her blue eyes were hidden behind her sunglasses, but I could still catch the occasional glance she threw my way. The way her head would turn just slightly, her eyebrow raising. She was either trying to figure out how mad I was, or something to say.

Pulling her up the stairs to my flat, I let go of her hand to open the door, before allowing her in in front of me. Once inside, I slammed the door behind me, my breath ragged thanks to the speed in which we had made the trek. She turned to look me over, crossing her arms over herself. Now that we were alone, I could tell she was nervous. Her confidence faded slightly now that she was here with me, with nothing and no one as a buffer.

We stared at each other for a long moment, as I dropped my bag inside the door, my eyes still on her. We were both hidden from each other from behind our respective sunglasses, and as I removed my own, I noticed her take a small intake of breath.

Her reaction confused me. Did I look angry? I was frustrated, yes. I was anxious and unsure and irritated as fuck, in part thanks to everything we still had to discuss, and in part from my own behavior the night before. But I wasn't angry.

Her eyes remained hidden from me, her arms crossed over her slim body, as she pulled her bottom lip between her teeth.

Oh.

I had to fight the smirk that teased at the corner of my lip. She bit her lip when turned on. I had learned that early, and watching her display the tendency now almost made me smile. Apparently me taking off sunglasses was arousing to her.

Who knew?

Finally fed up with our silent show down, I stepped towards her. Her teeth released her lip quickly, and I thought she expected me to kiss her. I wanted to. Badly. I wanted to do so much to her at this moment, but first, we needed to talk. She was right that we needed to move forward. And as much as I hated all forms of open communication, it was the only way to reach an understanding.

Placing my hands on her elbows I lead her over to the couch, sitting her down. I matched her, angled towards her, before folding my hands in my lap. Once seated, in an open and accepting posture, like my therapist used to blather at me, I needed her to speak.

"So?" I finally said, looking at her expectantly. When she didn't speak, I frowned before reaching out and removing her sunglasses from her face. I needed to see her eyes. They were expressive, and sometimes told me so much more than her lips. Tossing them on the table, I looked back to her. "You were awfully loquacious in front of my office, Lane. Don't stop now."

Her eyes fell to the couch between us as her hands began to twist together nervously. She didn't like confrontation anymore than I did. Although, if I was being honest, I was rather confrontational. Having a short fuse and quick temper seemed to prompt that.