Good Intentions| Editing

Thirteen

-edited-

Harry's POV

God she was so beautiful. Her lips were the color of a pink rose and fit mine perfectly when we kissed. And her eyes. They were so blue they turned grey. But they often were hard and didn't show and happiness; her eyes held secrets. Secrets that were painful. 

I wanted to know why she was so closed off and had a defensive wall up all the time. I wanted to get to know her on more of a personal level. Something just felt right between us two, and I wanted to see if my intuition was right about her. I'll admit, I was growing feelings. Feelings that sent butterflies into my stomach when ever she smiled(which was rarely), or made internally laugh whenever she had a sarcastic comment. 

It was calming watching her sleep. The way her chest moved up and down, and her soft little breaths keeping her in her dreams. In a world of bustling, running, and all out madness, she was the tranquility.

But her phone ringing ruined that tranquility.

Arabella quickly awakens with a groan. She gets up, fully naked, and goes to her purse. In the process, showing me a perfect view of her ass. I could get used to this. 

"Hello?" She answers turning her front to me and looking at the abstract picture hanging above my dresser. She was completely oblivious to her attire, which was all the better to me. But as she listens to the other person on the line, her face turns hard.

"Where's the bathroom?" She mouths to me. I point to the door near her. As she heads toward the door, her face is full of pain, or anger. I automatically want to know what's going on. I'll admit, I'm a bit snoopy. But it comes in handy when people are in trouble or hurt, like what Arabella was showing. 

Arabella closes the bathroom door, shutting me out from analyzing her anymore. I grab my laptop from the bedside table and check my email. My inbox is cluttered with messages from my employees. I open each of them, replying when necessary. Just as I am about to close my email, one pops up.

Harry,

You really know how to throw a party. Last night was great. Let's meet up for coffee sometime.

~Delilah Wells

I look at the email regretfully. Flirting with Chris Wells's wife was not something that I wanted to do. She came up to me last night and just started up a conversation. Delilah was a 5'8 blonde, 25 year old. She was the chief editor at Wells Publishing and became Chris Wells's wife six months ago. I guess Arabella was right when women would be fawning over me.

When she pulled me out of the room to 'talk', I never expected that she would make advances on me. Of course I turned them down, but surprised at her actions, I was too stunned to react at first. I felt bad for it, even though I didn't do anything. And if I told Arabella I would either get one of two things. One, she would be furious at me for being with another women. Or two, she wouldn't care because we weren't a couple. 

I was leaning towards the second one, so that's why I decided not to tell her. She didn't believe we would be a thing, so why prove her point? Obviously I think we are going to get together. Shes perfect for me in every way. 

Arabella comes out of the bathroom distressed and still naked. She runs her hands through her hair and asks, "Can I borrow some clothes, and a car please?"

I raise my eyebrows at the car part. "Sure," I say going to my drawers. "What for?"

I pull out a pair of boxers, basketball shorts, flip flops, and a black tee shirt. She takes the clothes and starts to get dressed in a hurry.