Chapter 12: Home

The car pulled to a smooth stop in front of a modern high-rise apartment building, the engine cutting out abruptly. Oliver’s hands stilled on Harper's back, his breathing heavy as he fought to regain some semblance of control. “Wait here,” he commanded softly, shifting her gently off his lap so he could adjust his own disheveled appearance in the rear-view mirror. His black hair was mused from her fingers running through it, and his lips were swollen from the intensity of their kisses. Harper quickly buttoned up her shirt and Oliver’s jacket, which she still had on. The driver opened the door to Oliver first, who then extended a hand to help Harper out onto the sidewalk. Oliver’s apartment was on the top floor of the building, accessed through a private elevator that opened onto a private balcony, where his front door was located. Inside there was a spacious penthouse living area. Floor-to-ceiling windows offered a breathtaking view of the city skyline below. “Welcome to my home,” Oliver said, his voice friendly and excited.

Harper looked around his apartment in amazement. At the center of the room there was a large L-shaped sectional sofa in a light gray fabric, decorated with several patterned throw pillows and a dark throw blanket casually draped over one section of the sofa. In front of the sofa sits a pair of round, nested coffee tables with reflective metallic finishes. Beneath the tables there was a large, light-colored area rug. Behind the soda was a tall arc floor lamp with a curved metal arm and a dark lampshade providing ambient lighting. The living room was separated by the open-plan kitchen by a white island countertop with green upholstered bar stools. Above the island hung modern pendant lights with metallic finishes and spherical elements. Harper’s eyes landing on the bookcase in the corner of the living room. Oliver’s gaze followed hers to the bookcase, a small smile playing on his lips. He watched as she took in the titles– classics mixed with business texts and what looked like a collection of first edition graphic novels. “Don’t let the corporate reputation fool you, I have a weakness for nerdy shit,” he said, moving to pour two glasses of whiskey from a decanter on the bar. He crosses the room to hand her one of the glasses, his movements relaxed now that they were away from the office’s constraints. The penthouse seemed to bring out a different side of him– more comfortable more himself. “Help yourself to anything you want,” Oliver offered, gesturing around the apartment.

His icy blue eyes lingered on her appreciatively as he leaned against the bar, taking a sip of his drink. Harper put the drink down. “I... I don’t drink,” she says awkwardly. “I can’t belief this is actually happening,” she admitted softly. Oliver set his own glass down with a soft clink against the bar, his expression softening at her admission. The awkwardness in her voice seemed to melt away some of his own tension. “Then we will stick to water and yes, I can’t believe it either,” he said easily, moving to the kitchen to retrieve a bottle from the fridge. He returned with a glasses filled with ice and water, handing one to her before leaning against the counter nearby. The city lights cast a warm glow across his features in the dim lighting in the penthouse. “Come her, sit with me a minute before... Well, before things get too complicated,” Oliver’s voice was low and inviting as he patted the space on the couch beside him. His icy blue eyes held a hint of nervousness that matched her own– a rare vulnerability he rarely showed outside these walls.

Harper took a sip of the ice water and then sat down beside him. Oliver’s posture relaxed slightly at her presence beside him. The simple act of sharing a quiet moment together felt momentous after months of stolen glances and unspoken attraction. “Better?” he asked softly, his voice carrying a warmth that was not present in the office setting. He leaned back against the cushion, one arm resting along the back of the sofa behind her. His hand found its way to her auburn hair again, fingers gently combing through the strands that had become slightly disheveled during their make out session in the car. The gesture was absentminded yet intimate, a clear sign of how comfortable he felt with her here. “I should probably tell you; I am not great at... This. Dating. Relationships. Whatever this is between us,” Oliver said hesitantly. He gestured between them with his whiskey glass.

“I can’t say I have a lot of experience either. I have always been more focused on my studies or work,” Harper said with a shy smile. A genuine smile finally reaching Oliver’s icy blue eyes. ‘Well, that makes two of us, maybe we can learn together. I have got plenty of time and patience to teach you everything you want to know,” he said with a low chuckle, setting his whiskey glass aside completely. His hand moved from her auburn hair to rest gently on her shoulder, thumb brushing small circles against the bare skin there. The city lights cast dancing shadows across his features as he studies her face in the dim lighting. “You know what I have noticed about you?” he continued, his voice taking on a more personal tone. “You have this way of making people feel comfortable– me included. Even when I am being an asshole in the office, you never seem intimidated.” He shifted closer to her on the couch, closing some of the distance between them. “You are never an asshole. You just strive for excellence, it is a quality I admire,” Harper says softly, moving closer to him and placing her hand on his thigh.

Oliver’s breath caught due to the contact of her hand on his thigh, the simple touch sending a jolt of electricity through his system. His muscles tense momentarily before relaxing into her touch, a low groan escaping his throat. “Admiration,” he repeated softly, his own hand covering hers where it rested on his leg. “That is dangerous territory for both of us.” His eyes darkened with desire as he watched her move closer, the proximity making it difficult to think straight. The scent of her perfume mixed with the whiskey on his breath created an intoxicating combination. “You have no idea how often I have imagined this,” he confessed, his voice dropping to a husky murmur. “Late nights in my office fantasizing about bending you over my desk instead of reviewing quarterly reports.” his free hand came up to cup her jaw gently, tilting her face toward his once more.