Sanctuary [h.s.]

Chapter Eighteen

"Trouble on my left, trouble on my right

I've been facing trouble almost all my life

My sweet love, won't you pull me through?"

***

The week slipped away before I even had time to notice. I was handed a few new projects for work, and they consumed me entirely, the hours blending together in a blur of focus and determination. By the time I emerged from the whirlwind, I was utterly drained, desperate for a change of scenery and the chance to breathe in the night air. Olivia and I made plans to meet at the pub at eight; she had a dinner date with her elusive mystery man and was eager to introduce him to me. The choice of a public setting was deliberate—a safety net in case anything went awry.

Olivia, always the caring friend, urged me to invite Harry along. She knew about our secret encounters, and despite her lingering reservations about him, she was eager to get to know him better.

Harry arrived at my flat just minutes after I finished getting ready. My outfit was laid-back, a comfortable pair of loose-fitting blue jeans paired with a black top and a leather jacket. I slipped on my black boots, completing the ensemble, and left my hair down, allowing its natural waves to fall freely, untouched by any styling tools.

I stepped outside, expecting to see Harry holding a cab, but instead, I spotted him standing beside a sleek black car, the door open as if he'd been waiting just for me.

A puzzled smile tugged at my lips as I approached him, my eyebrows knitting together in curiosity. "Where did you get a car?"

"Borrowed it," he replied, his grin mischievous.

I shook my head, stifling a laugh. Of all the questionable things Harry had done, this was far from the worst. I wasn't about to dig deeper or let it bother me. Some mysteries were better left unsolved.

With a quiet thank you, I slid into the passenger seat, the leather cool against my skin as I settled in. I clicked the seatbelt into place, watching Harry as he took his time strolling around the front of the car. There was something almost languid in the way he moved, unhurried, as if the world itself would wait for him. He joined me inside, sliding into the driver's seat with the ease of someone who seemed to belong everywhere and nowhere all at once. He didn't bother with a seatbelt, his confidence almost palpable as he smoothly put the car into drive. The engine purred to life, and we were off.

The soft hum of the radio filled the car, a gentle melody playing in the background, setting a calm, almost intimate atmosphere.

"I didn't know you knew how to drive," I remarked, my gaze drifting over to his perfectly sculpted profile. The sharp lines of his jaw, the curve of his lips—he looked like something out of a dream, unreal in his beauty.

Harry glanced at me, a half-grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. "There's a lot you don't know about me," he replied, his voice smooth and teasing. His hand found its way to my thigh, fingers curling gently around it as he gave a soft squeeze, sending a warmth through me that had nothing to do with the temperature inside the car.

The car ride was brief but pleasant, a sweet interlude before we arrived at the pub. Harry parked the sleek black car a short distance from the bustling establishment, and we stepped out, ready to join the evening's festivities. The warm glow of the pub's lights spilled onto the street, guiding us towards the entrance.

Inside, the pub was alive with a vibrant mix of chatter and laughter. Music spilled from the speakers, a lively tune that set the tone for the night. The place was packed, a bustling crowd weaving between tables and barstools. I scanned the room, searching for Olivia amidst the sea of faces. Her light blonde hair was like a beacon, and it didn't take long to spot her perched on a stool at the bar.