Bartending at one of the most popular classic rock bars in Nashville, Ariel is just trying to get by after escaping a toxic relationship.
Harry is on his way to making it big in the music industry with his band, Sweet Talk, residing in Nashville to...
The residents in the apartment below us are probably wondering what the hell is going on up here because I've been pacing our living room for the last hour. I shaved my entire body, rubbed lotion all over, left my hair down in loose waves, brushed my teeth twice. I've never been so worked up about hooking up with someone before. Mostly because it's been a one night stand or a relationship thing so I've never given sex much thought. But this shit that's been going on with Harry– I've never done something like this before. It's all new to me.
There were no issues with June staying at Niall's, turns out it was already on her agenda. I haven't told her much of anything that's happening between Harry and I because I think she already knows a lot of it because of Niall– but I still think we need to have a full fledged talk about everything going on in our lives because– whew.
Three knocks to the door have my heart racing so fast it feels like it could beat out of my chest. Why am I so anxious?
It's just Harry, this isn't anything new to you. You've been with him before. It's just sex. You like sex.
I take a deep breath and open the door, the warm hallway light illuminating his skin. He's dressed in a charcoal gray Looney Tunes Harley Davidson shirt that reads 'double trouble' across the bottom and black athletic shorts. His hair is tied back in a rusty colored paisley bandana. Fuck, he looks so good.
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His face is blank, not showing much emotion. I step to the side, giving him access to the apartment, to which he welcomes himself and kicks off his white sneakers, leaving him in his black socks.
"Want something to drink?" I ask, knowing a little alcohol would help calm my nerves and I curse myself for not taking a shot or two before he arrived. He probably just wants to fuck and leave, not dilly dally around it.
"Sure." He follows me around the corner to the kitchen, where I open up our liquor cabinet and take out a variety of options.
"We have Bacardi, Tito's, Grey Goose, Malibu– left over from college because nobody wants to drink that shit– Schnapps–"
"How about one of those minty things?" He asks, twirling his finger in the air as he tries to remember the name.
"A mojito?" I chuckle.
"Yeah, do you have the stuff for it? I can help make it." He seems oddly eager about this drink.
"I should have everything..." I scramble around my kitchen, grabbing everything I need. Bacardi, simple syrup, mint leaves, ice, ginger ale, lime, sugar... "Okay, I'll make mine first so you know how to make yours."
