“So, Grace, are you still living at home?” Violet asks casually, skimming her menu.
“Yep, the renovations won’t be done until April,” I inform her, sliding another parmesan-encrusted breadstick from the wicker basket and taking a bite. Benito’s may have the most authentic Italian food in a twelve-block radius of Big Ben, but they’re more widely known for their breadsticks.
“That must be difficult,” Greg acknowledges, settling his napkin in his lap. I shrug noncommittally, still chewing. He dips a finger into his glass of water before running his hand through his hair, trying to slick a stray blonde hair back into place.
“Relax, you’re gorgeous,” Violet teases. “Besides, you’ve been together how long now?”
“Almost 4 months.”
“Exactly. He isn’t going to dump you now just because your fringe isn’t perfect.”
Greg sticks his tongue out.
“Well, if it isn’t my favorite group of people,” James says, coming upon us, notepad in hand. “And you requested a table in my area, so sweet.” He glances back at the kitchen doors before slipping Greg a kiss on the cheek.
“So, James,” Violet begins sweetly. “Tell me, what do you think of Greg’s hair this evening?”
He laughs while Greg buries his face behind his hands. “I think it’s sexy, as always.” He winks at Greg, who smiles gratefully before shooting Violet a scowl. “Well, as much as I love to banter with you guys, we’ve got to get down to business. We’re short staffed tonight, and my manager is cracking the metaphorical whip. So, that said, orders?” Violet and Greg rattle off their selections, and James turns to me. “And for you, Grace? More breadsticks perhaps?” he quips, eyeing the empty basket.
Offering him an amused smile, I answer, “I think I’m okay, for now. I’ll just ha-”
My mobile vibrates. Leaving James hanging, I slip it from my pocket; there’s a new text.
Come over tonight? –H
I’ve received this text several times in the past week, but it still sends a thrill down my spine and makes my palms sweat. Just the thought of him elicits a reaction from my body, like I’m drunk on the mere anticipation of his kiss.
I couldn’t have found a better distraction.
“Sorry, um, I’ll have the shrimp scampi,” I say absently, focused on the screen in my lap.
Yeah, I’m out at dinner now, but I’ll come round later. –G
His response is nearly immediate.
Hurry, or I’ll start without you. ;) –H
Glancing around, I pray that the others haven’t noticed the blush coloring my cheeks. Thankfully, James has returned to the kitchen, and Greg and Violet are occupied with the puzzlers on the kid’s menu. A buzz alerts me to another text.
Just kidding. I’ll be waiting, impatiently. –H
Patience is a virtue. –G
True, but so is chastity. –H
Fair enough. I’ll be there soon. –G
“Grace?” Violet’s voice makes me jump. “What are you doing?” she asks, peering over the tabletop to see my mobile. “Who are you texting?”
“No one,” I answer, hastily shoving my phone into my purse.
---
“Maybe it’s under the bed.” Harry hangs his head over the edge of the mattress, trying to assist in the hunt for my blouse.
“I’ve already looked there,” I mutter, a sigh falling from my lips. Even after sifting through the pillows and blankets left in the wake of our tryst, there is no sign of my shirt.
“Hmm,” he murmurs, eyes roving the room one last time before he plops onto the bed. “Why don’t you just sleepover tonight? I mean,” he smirks laying back into the pillows, “we can’t have you going home topless. What would the neighbors think?”
I roll my eyes before asking, “Are you sure?”
“Yeah,” he nods, “it’s getting rather late. Besides, it’s not like you haven’t done it before.”
“Only because I was sloshed.”
“So? I reckon it couldn’t be any worse if you’re sober,” he says with a shrug.
“I guess you’re right.”
“Of course I am,” he teases, then pats the bed. “Now come back up here.”
After a moment of hesitation, I abandon my jeans on the floor, and climb under the duvet, snuggling into my still warm spot. The sheets rustle as Harry rolls over.
“Goodnight Grace.”
“Goodnight Harry.”
---
“So Grace, did you sleep well?” Harry asks before taking a sip of coffee; he eyes me over the rim.
“Yeah, I slept just fine . . .” I trail off, sensing something more than polite inquiry.
“I’m not surprised; you cuddled me almost all of last night,” Harry mentions, shrugging. “When I woke up, I nearly had to peel you from my back. I never would’ve pegged you as a big spoon.”
I cough, choking on my coffee. The bitter liquid sprays the counter as I sputter.
“Whoa,” he laughs. “It’s okay, really. You kept me nice and warm.” He alternates between patting and rubbing my back. “Breathe Grace, breathe.”
Once my lungs are under control, I shrug away from his touch.
“I should probably go. I have class.” Without meeting his eyes, I slip my coat from the back of my chair.
“Sure,” Harry murmurs, withdrawing with ease. “Take a muffin or something with you.”
“That’s okay,” I hoist my bag onto my shoulder, “I don’t nee-”
“You do need breakfast.” He plucks a croissant from the plate and wraps it with a napkin before handing it to me. “It’s the most important meal of the day, you know.”
“Right, thanks.”
“Anytime.”
Taking a bite of the flaky pastry, I leave him to his ‘most important meal of the day’.
Winter’s chill is unrelenting as ever. Wrapping my coat tighter around me, I regret my hasty exit; I could’ve at least finished my coffee.
My walk of shame from Harry’s to the nearest bus stop isn’t long, but it still gives me far too much time to think.
I knew staying over was a bad idea. I read once, in Cosmo or something, that it can be the kiss of death for a strictly physical relationship. Which is all I want, sex, distraction, nothing else.
Even so, I had a better night’s sleep in his bed than I’ve had at home for the past two months.
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Hey guys, just a heads up. My life has been a bit crazy lately, so I'm going to try my hardest to update according to schedule, but in case I don't, that's why.
Next Update: February 5th
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Oblivion
FanfictionThe state of something that is not remembered, used, or thought about anymore. The state of being unconscious or unaware; the state of not knowing what is going on around you. The state of being destroyed.
