***MATURE CONTENT READ AT OWN RISK***
Harry seems to be getting uncomfortable and mildly frustrated. "Willow, look at me." He's waiting until he has my full attention. "That wasn't just great sex. You don't feel that intensity without a serious conn...
After taking a shower, I blow dry and flat iron my hair. It looks great, but I'm concerned that I'm not wearing proper attire for such an upscale restaurant. I've never been to the Polo Lounge in my life, nor did I ever imagine I would be. A lot of LA restaurants have a dress code, but Harry reassures me the outfit I have on it perfect, his words put my mind at ease. I'm wearing a silver blazer with matching pants, a black cami underneath and black strapy heels.
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"You look fabulous Will."
"So do you, Mr. GQ." I smile into his kiss on my lips.
Harry is one of those people who are blessed to look perfect in anything from casual to formal. He cleans up nicely, very sharp and sophisticated. He's wearing a pair of black skinny jeans, a black button-down dress shirt, a navy wool trench coat and black chelsea boots. His natural curls resting on his shoulders then down his back.
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"I'm ready, let me grab my keys."
Harry gently places his hand on mine and shakes his head.
"No, I'm driving, I'm taking you on a date. That's how this is gonna work."
Is there ever an end to his chivalry? Because it feels like it's endless. If it were any other man, his demands may seem chauvinistic, but I know what his angle is. He's very aware of my past with James and the lack of care and compassion I've been given over the years. His only motive is to make me feel like a queen and I appreciate his efforts.
"Ok, you're the boss. What car are we taking?"
I saw his car collection and I'm curious what his choice will be for a date. I wonder if there's some rhyme or reason to his selection. Without hesitation he chooses the black Audi A6, it's not a flashy car, but it is elegant and dignified. His choice tells me he has no desire to show off, he simply wants to spend time with me and that makes me very comfortable. He opens the door and ushers me in with a sweet kiss on the back of my hand. Everything he does appears to be effortless; I wish I had half of the grace he does.
The ten-minute drive down Sunset Blvd to the Beverly Hills Hotel is lined with beautiful palm trees. I watch the scenery as we pass by. I'm still trying to figure out how I ended up in this place. Harry held my hand the entire drive and squeezed it periodically to let me know that he was still present. Just moments away from the hotel my stomach starts doing backflips. We haven't discussed how we'll handle the public. It seems really complicated and I'm starting to worry this might put too much pressure on us both.
