Yes, Sir.

Chapter 25: Closer

CHAPTER 25

The wheels to Harry's private jet rumble as we roll down the runway. I clench the arms of the luxurious padded couch in the cabin and let out a breath. I was never one for takeoffs.

My boss glances at my hand, which is still gripping the couch tightly. "Nervous?"

He's been especially nice to me all morning, and I'm suspecting it's because he either feels bad about yelling at me yesterday or just wants to know whether or not Liam spent the night. Probably a combination of both.

"A little," I admit, leaning back into the cushions now that we're safely above the clouds. "I've only flown twice."

Both which were unpleasant experiences. It's not that I'm scared of flying; it's just the thought of being so high above the ground for long periods of time makes me nauseas. The trip from New York to D.C. is a little over an hour so I probably won't have enough time to get airsick. Which is good, because I don't need to be puking my guts out in front of Harry.

I yawn loudly and rub my eyes. Harry looks up from the magazine he's reading with a questioning gaze.

"Sorry, I didn't get much sleep last night," I yawn again.

Harry forces himself to return back to his magazine, but I can tell by the darkness in his eyes that he's dying to ask me if Liam is the cause of my tiredness. Little does he know the real reason is that I spent the whole night worrying and double-checking my packing list, making sure that I had everything.

"If you'd like to take a nap, there's a bedroom in the back," Harry informs me, flipping the page of his magazine. Meanwhile, I'm more concerned about the fact that he has an actual bedroom on his jet. Talk about over decorating...

"No, that's fine, it's not a long flight anyways," I decline his offer politely. Just as I finish speaking, a man's voice who I assume is the pilot comes over the intercom.

"It's now safe to move around the cabin if you like, sir."

"Thanks, Michael," Harry shouts up to the front before standing up and walking over the coffee machine. I watch as he pours not one but two cups of coffee and then hands one to me.

"This should wake you up," he smiles and I raise my eyebrows at him.

I take a sip of the hot drink, surprisingly not burning my tongue for once. Harry fiddles with his cup, sitting down next to me on the couch.

"Okay, why are you being so nice to me?" I ask him bluntly.

"What do you mean? We're friends."

I snort, ignoring the fact that he probably just friendzoned me. "I called you a dick yesterday, Harry. Friends don't typically do that."

"Well, I was being a dick," Harry agrees.

I don't know what to say so I just take another sip of my coffee. For a while we sit together in silence and I hate how I notice how good he smells, even better than my coffee. And I really love coffee.

"So...did you have fun last night?" he asks, trying to be nonchalant.

"Harry," I roll my eyes, "You already asked me that. Last night, remember, when you called me for the hundredth time?"

"I only called you, like, ten times."

"Fourteen, actually."

He gives me an exasperated look and stands up from the couch, walking to the other side of the cabin so that his back is facing me. I know he's upset that I won't tell him what happened with me and Liam last night. Maybe the CD is finally working, and that's why he wants to know so much.