"Bye babe," Harry calls from the front door. I turn my head away from the television and see Harry gripping the doorknob dressed in a white polo and these ridiculous green and white plaid pants that only Harry can pull off.
"Where are you going?"
"Isn't is obvious?" he says and holds out his arms. "Golfing."
"Why don't you ever invite me?" I ask with a frown.
"I didn't think you'd want to go. Do you even know how to golf?"
"No, but you could teach me." Harry tilts his head to the side, like he's contemplating my offer. "Please? It'll be fun."
"Alright," he shrugs. "But you're not golfing in that." He points to me and I look down and see I'm still wearing a pair of sweatpants and one of Harry's shirts. I run upstairs and quickly look through my closet to find something appropriate to wear. I spot a plaid skirt and a pink polo similar to Harry's. I quickly change and run back downstairs.
"Is this better?" Harry's eyes rake up and down my body and he gives me a nod of approval.
I follow him out the door and into the car. He drives for fifteen minutes before turning into a parking lot where I can already see nothing but green for what seems like miles. I see why Harry comes out here a lot, it's very peaceful. I feel calmer already.
Harry takes his clubs out of the trunk and begins walking to the first hole. I silently follow him as he sets his clubs down and takes a tee out of one of the front pockets and places it into the ground. He takes a golf ball out of the bag and places it on the tee and looks at me.
"Do you want to take the first swing?"
I shake my head. "No, I'll just watch you."
Harry turns back to the bag and grabs a club and moves over to the tee. He stands with his feet apart, and his hands grip the club firmly. He glances at the ball and then out to the first hole, which is designated by a flag blowing lazily in the wind. Harry adjusts his grip on the club and swings it, hitting the ball off the tee in a perfect arc. His eyes follow the ball to the green and he seems pleased with his swing.
He then turns to me and holds the club out for me to take. "Your turn."
I reach out my shaking hand to take the club and it feels heavy in my weak arms. I look at Harry for instruction, because even though I just saw him make a perfect shot, I still have no idea what to do.
He takes out another ball and tee and places them both on the ground in front of me. Then he moves to stand behind me and places his hands on my hips.
"You have to stand with your feet apart so you can move your body into the swing," he says, and his hands begin rotating my hips to show me the correct way to move. I'm trying to pay attention to Harry's instructions, but I'm finding it hard to concentrate when his hands are on my hips.
He removes his hands from my hips and moves them to grip my hands over the club. He leans in close to me, my back to his chest and I can feel his hot breath on my neck, sending goosebumps throughout my entire body.
"Keep your hands right here, and grip tightly," his voice is low and raspy. He helps me take a test swing, then he lets go of me. I frown a little at the loss of contact, but I position my hands on the club and take my first swing, which misses the ball altogether. I look over my shoulder and I see Harry covering his mouth, trying to stifle a laugh.
"Don't laugh at me."
"I'm not. That was a great shot babe."
"Don't be sarcastic either," I say and he raises his arms defensively.
"Just try again," he says.
I grip the club firmly and focus on keeping my feet planted and my hips loose. I look toward the flag and then down at the ball. I take a deep breath and bring the club back behind my head. I swing the club forward as I release the breath and I look out toward the green to watch the ball, but it's nowhere to be seen.
"Where'd it go?"
"Uh, babe," Harry says, and I look over at him to see him pointing down at the tee. I look down and see the shiny white golf ball still sitting on the tee. I can hear Harry chuckle quietly over my shoulder but I ignore it.
"I think you need to show me again," I say playfully, looking back at him. I don't even care about learning how to golf anymore, since it's clear that I'm no good at it, so I might as well use it as an excuse to have Harry puts his arms around me.
Harry walks over to me and wraps his arms around me again, resting his hands on mine. He repeats what he already told me, but I can't concentrate when I can feel him breathing down my neck. His deep voice radiates through my chest and I feel like I can't breathe, but in the best way possible.
"Got it?" Harry says, bringing me out of my trance.
"Uh, yeah," I lie.
I grip the club harder because my hands have suddenly become sweaty. I stare down at the ball and before I can think about it, I reach the club over my shoulder and swing. The ball doesn't go very far, but at least I hit it this time. I smile and look over at Harry, who's smiling too.
"How was that?" I ask him, even though I already know it was a terrible shot.
"Not bad," he says and walks over to me and smacks me playfully on my bum and smirks. He grabs his bag of clubs and begins walking toward the green. I follow him as he takes out a putter and positions himself to hit the ball. He moves the putter back slightly and hits the ball, sinking it perfectly in the hole.
"Show off," I mumble and Harry turns his head to smirk at me.
"I'd do better if I wasn't so distracted."
"Distracted by what?"
"You in that skirt."
