"Name something that you've done with a boy." Harry demanded with an evident smirk on his face, sending chills down my spine.
For the pastors son, he's nothing like I expected.
"N-nothing. It's a sin." I argued, frowning my eyebrows and fiddling wi...
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Chapter Eight ______________
"Why don't you give me a tour around the house?" Harry suggested with a mouthful of popcorn he practically forced me to make when we were thirty minutes into this random movie he picked.
"A tour?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.
"A tour." He repeated, nodding his head.
I sighed, balling my fists against the cushions as I lifted my body off of the couch. "Come along." I said, waving my hand.
A friendly smirk replaced his flat lips and I fought the urge of blushing until my cheeks burned off.
Harry placed the bowl of popcorn down onto the coffee table then stood up, brushing his pants off with his hands. Instead of waiting for him, I began to walk towards the kitchen.
"I already seen—"
"Who's in charge?" I reminded him, raising an eyebrow and he threw his hands up in defense. "This is the kitchen and right through these doors," I pointed towards the glass sliding doors. "Is the backyard. It's a bit empty right now because my mother plans on remodeling it."
"Of course she would," He murmured under his breath, probably hoping that I didn't hear him.
"What is that supposed to mean?"
"Well, your mom basically runs you and your father."
"And what does that have to do with her remodeling?"
He leaned his forearms onto the island that sat in the the middle of the kitchen. "The point is.. she's so demanding and Mr. Schneider probably gives the women everything she asks for." Harry shrugged and I frowned my eyebrows, bothered by his pointless comment.
"Well, I'm here to tell you it's not like that." I assured him. "Matter a fact.. where's your mother?"
After my question rolled off my tongue, Harry's eyes drifted away from me and his whole demeanor changed. I didn't know speaking about his mother would bother him, especially since he felt comfortable talking about mine.
"That's.. that doesn't matter," Harry shook his head. "We're going upstairs now?" He asked, pointing towards the steps and to avoid any confrontation, I nodded.
When we reached the second floor, I showed him my fathers study, my mothers work out room and her office, and my old bedroom from when I was a child that became the guest room.
My house wasn't very extravagant if you asked me. We had so much space in the house with nothing to fill it up. My mother refuses to add any unnecessary things to the house, so she preferred to keep it the way it is.
Now that I'm thinking about it.. Harry probably was right about my mother being demanding because father practically said yes to everything she asked.
