Cakes, Country Clubs, and the CEO [h.s]

Chapter 11

"Is that my shirt?"

Last night's series of unfortunate and chaotic events, ranging from the country club incident to nearly falling out of a window, had kept Sabrina and I up to the late hours of the night, talking and laughing our asses off until the moment we passed out. Staying up so late, however, had taken an evident toll on me, the morning grogginess (the word 'morning' being used extremely loosely considering it was nearly two in the afternoon) hitting me like a bullet train on a trackway. It was extremely unlike me to stay up and wake up at such a late hour considering how much I resembled an elderly lady's sleeping patterns, but waking up never really hurt anyone.

Considering that Harry had taken me to his own house rather than my own last night, I hadn't brought any extra belongings with me, forcing me to borrow one of Sabrina's night shirts. Or what I suspected was Sabrinas. Although now, all things considered, the shirt was way too huge to be hers. The t-shirt draped its way all to the top of my knees, the 'short' sleeves ending at my elbows, the shirt nearly devorwering my body whole.

"Um..." I hesitated momentarily, eyeing the curly headed boy across the island, taken off guard by the sudden question, "No?" I reply cautiously, observing Harry for any signs of irritation at my accidental steal. I honestly hadn't meant to take it, but something told me that Sabrina planned the exchange all along.

She had a thing for purposefully putting me in uncomfortable situations for her own enjoyment.

When I had first walked into the kitchen, the grogginess had still failed to fade away completely, leaving me oblivious to the large body lent against the kitchen counter. The fact that Harry's sudden appearance hadn't scared the absolute shit out of me was a complete surprise, one that I was beyond thankful for and physical proof of my prayers to whatever holiness above working. "It definitely is" he mumbles back, taking a bite of the muffin in his hand, lifting his other arm to take a sip of a steaming cup of, what I assumed was, tea.

What I was about to do I blamed on half consciousness.

Before I exactly process what I'm doing, per usual, I'm pulling at the ends of the shirt to take it off as quickly as possible. It's like a switch from 'calm, normal human being' to 'mush brain imbecile' had been flicked.

"I had no clue" I stumble out, Harry's intimidating presence finally taking its toll on me. Seeming to have absolutely no control over my actions, I rapidly proceed with pulling my right arm out of the sleeve hole, soon doing the same thing to the other, ultimately leaving me looking armless. "As soon as I ge-get this off" I struggle, trying to hop up and down so that the shirt would catch air and hopefully fly off, "I'll give it back to you".

Seconds tick by at an unnaturally slow speed before I can successfully get the shirt to come off, a small chuckle eventually tearing my attention away , the continuous bouncing I'd been doing in an attempt to speed up the process coming to an abrupt stop. The sound brought on an aprut tear of my head towards the noise, eyes slitting towards the source.

Still standing there, seemingly unbothered, arms placed in front of him, one placed diagonally on top of the countertop while the other props up his chin, Harry eyes my struggling with amusement, another laugh falling from his lips as he sees that he had caught my attention.

"No please", he gestures, the hand holding up his chin momentarily leaving his face so that he could motion at me to carry on, "I was enjoying the show." Another laugh escapes as I part my lips in shock, "don't stop on my account" he insists. A smug grin overcomes his features as he bites his lip in an attempt to remain with his closed lip smile, his comment not failing to leave me frozen mid bounce in shock. The commentary had left me dumbfounded.