Right Down The Line

8

Bee's POV:

At the blaring sound of my alarm, my eyes shot open in my moon-lit loft.

4:30 in the morning. On a Saturday. And it's time to go to work... for an entire week.

I reached for my phone, shutting the loud ringing off. Then I did a full body stretch, complete with an obnoxious noise from my mouth as I flexed my feet and rolled my wrists.

I barely slept at all last night. Packing is stressful enough, and with the added Harry drama I found myself staring off absentmindedly more than a few times throughout the evening. After packing and organizing, unpacking and re-organizing the same items over and over again, I finally filled my suitcase with what I assumed I'd need for a week in London. Fortunately the weather there isn't too far off from that of Seattle, making outfit selections easy enough.

Whitney sent my travel itinerary when I was cleaning my apartment one last time at midnight last night. I saw the attachments for the flight details but only looked at the info for my ride scheduled to take me to the airport at 5:00. I'd have plenty of time on the drive to Sea-Tac to review all of the other details, and out of annoyance I just didn't want to look at anything else that was work-related so late at night.

I tossed and turned for at least another hour once I got into bed, only falling asleep after I let my stupid, weak mind wander to the events that took place in my living room just hours earlier. A little bit of daydreaming is harmless, it's not like I rubbed one out... Or maybe I did, I don't remember. And if I did, I may have conveniently forgotten about all of the arguing that happened after.

A girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do to get some sleep, alright?

Now, after a hot shower in my chilly apartment, I stood in front of my closet with my hands smooshing my tired face as I decided what to wear for the almost 10-hour flight to London. I decided on joggers and an oversized t-shirt, hoping the comfortable all-black outfit would help me get some sleep. I stuffed a large knit sweater in my backpack that could be used as a pillow if the plane was warm.

Before I slid my phone in my pocket, I noticed I was right on schedule, with three minutes to get downstairs to my ride.

I took one last look at my bedroom before climbing down the narrow steps and scanning over the clean living room, doing the same with the kitchen as I walked through. I strapped on my backpack and pulled my large suitcase through the front door, locking it behind me.

In the elevator, I tried to ignore the butterflies in my belly as I wondered what the week would have in store. I'd basically have an entire week with Harry. As much as I tried to pawn off the job to Toby, I'd be lying if I said I was fully upset about it.

The only thing turning the butterflies in my belly into a nervous pit was the uncertainty of how Harry would be. If I'm about to spend a week with this bitchy, moody version of him, I truly don't know that I'd make it through the week.

I stepped out of the musty elevator and through the darkened hallway, pushing the front door open and dragging my suitcase through the threshold. The cold early morning air felt nice on my arms and face, making me shiver slightly, waking me up a bit.

The lit-up street was mostly empty, just a couple of cars passing by, and when I turned to the left I saw a black SUV parked with its hazard lights on. Just a moment later, the driver door opened and a familiar figure stepped out.

"Good to see you again, Bee." Aaron's warm smile greeted me, which I reciprocated immediately as I walked up to him.

"Aaron, hey." I approached the car and was finally close enough to look into Aaron's honey brown eyes. "I was expecting an Uber, but I'm so happy to see you."