"Name something sexual that you've done with a man." Harry demanded with an evident smirk on his face, sending immediate chills down my spine.
For the pastors son, he's nothing like I expected.
"N-nothing. It's a sin." I argued, frowning my eyebrow...
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Chapter Forty One ________________
After Gemma completed the look she imagined in her head, she showed me how to apply the wing on my eyelid. We did it about three times since I kept messing up and I had worried that we were wasting time but Gemma assured me that we had time to spare.
The last thing left was my damp hair that I decided to wash while taking my shower. I know I said that I trusted her, but I couldn't help but feel afraid. My mother has been the only person to ever touch my hair, so this situation was foreign to me.
"Why are you so stiff?" Gemma questioned, looking at me through the mirror with a concerned facial expression.
"I've never had anyone other than my mother touch my hair," I told her truthfully. "It's just a bit different, that's all."
"I completely understand," she placed her hands on my shoulders. "Lauren is the same way, but I've been trying to get her out of it because sometimes when she's at her grandmothers, she has no choice but to get her hair brushed."
But that's the thing... Lauren's four years old, I'm eighteen. I'm sorry, Gemma, but that didn't make me feel better at all.
I smiled at her then planted my eyes on the counter top. What I wanted to hear escape Gemma's mouth is an explanation on why she's here but Harry isn't. I've been contemplating about bringing it up myself, but something told me to wait.
"Are you nervous about tonight?" She asked as she brushed through my waves. "The first date is always a pain."
"Why is that?" I asked, looking up at her.
Gemma sighed. "Because us women tend to worry so much on how we look and if it's enough to impress the bloke, which is the last thing we should really worry about because while we're trying to look our best, the guy might be at his house throwing on a tee and jeans— that's it."
I laughed. "So are you implying that Harry's doing that?"
"Harry loves his buttons ups, so I'm sure he won't be wearing a tee."
"But the jeans?"
"He might be wearing jeans," She nodded, knitting her eyebrows together. "I hope he doesn't, though, because I told him to actually try."
It wouldn't bother me if Harry came in his typical wear because he probably doesn't have anyone over there to help him out. Unless he were to ask Zayn, which I highly doubt.
"You really make him happy, Danielle. I don't know what it is but he can ramble about you all day. Throughout the car ride it was, 'Danielle this, and Danielle that,' if I didn't know any better, I'd say he's obsessed." She joked. "I noticed that he even gifted you that necklace that belonged to our mother."
My heart fluttered and it only took a second before the heat from my cheeks started to raise. Sometimes I forget that I'm even wearing it unless I'm in the bathroom or in my room thinking about Harry because during the day when my parents are here, I try to keep it out of my mother's sight.
