Personal Assistant ➵ H.S.

18

Work had been almost unbearable in the heat for the end of June, so when the long weekend for the company Fourth of July celebrations started to approach you were really looking forward to it. Four days in the blissful sun, living it up in the Hamptons with all expenses paid? Yes please.

Harry had been your only salvation in those sweltering work days; he constantly badgered the maintenance man to get a better air-con unit saying in an adorably grumpy voice something along the lines of 'I'll just bloody do it meself then mate'. On the hottest days, you'd end up doing a lot of your work in Harry's office with him, as it had much better circulation compared to your little alcove just outside. Because of this, your relationship with him was practically back to how it had been just before he kissed you, with both of you being thoroughly pleased about this, glad that you could put the hurt behind you and focus on what was important.

However, you did try to make an effort to keep your distance from him, which Harry had noticed and was extremely frustrated about. Something about the way the sun hit your hair and made it shine like light refracted off a diamond, and the way your skin practically glowed from the light sheen of sweat it was coated in, and especially - especially - the outfits you wore, had Harry mesmerised. Most of the time they were a shorter length, showing off your toned legs and lower to showcase your splendid tits and, downright unfair Harry thought; he left work feeling horny every. single. day.

Nearly every evening without fail he was sprawled out, half naked, on his white sheets as soon as he got home, pumping himself until he would come with a cry of your name. He'd even written some sensual lyrics which was a bit unlike him, but he was much preferring it from the sad ballads that had become a regular occurrence.

With the company weekend approaching he was very much looking forward to what outfits you'd be wearing in a more casual setting. But what he was most looking forward to was executing his plan. Harry was really hoping he'd get a moment alone with you in the beautiful Hamptons setting, and be able to explain everything and tell you - properly and privately this time - how he felt. It still ate away at him that he'd not given you a proper explanation about the whole Charlotte fiasco; the guilt and disappointment at himself still tugged on his heart.

Emmy had reassured him that the Damon situation wasn't anything to concern himself with - after she grilled you for even going to meet him, she was able to get out of you that you had carried on speaking, but luckily no more dates seemed to be on the cards.

As Harry drove himself, Niall and Emmy to your apartment to pick you up, the couple - who fancied themselves as a comedic due today - would not stop their teasing.

"Hazza, I reckon you'll be frolicking around on the beach with Ceece by tonight."

"Ooo yes!" Squealed Emmy in agreement, "I hope so, you know she does love a cheeky sex on the beach..."

They both erupted into a fit of giggles as Harry rolled his eyes, they're perfect for each other, he thought.

"Maybe you could even pull out some beach-themed pick-up lines...ooh, what about 'I could put some motion in your ocean'."

"Oh good one Nialler, what about...um...'the sun isn't the only thing here that rises'."

Another torrent of laughter from the pair as Harry parked up outside your building. Putting the brakes on he turned to his left to glare pointedly at Niall for as long as it took to make him glance away sheepishly (which wasn't very long - he always crumbled), before turning the stare to Emmy in the backseat.

"Don't even try that with me H, it's not gonna work." she said sassily, while crossing her arms across her chest.

Harry finally let out a laugh, "Right, you two better shut it, she's coming,"