Summertime & Butterflies

The atmosphere at the Gilbert house was vastly different on Sunday afternoon than the first time Harry picked Olivia up. There wasn’t a need for Stephanie to usher her chaotic family to the park, so rather than a quiet, calm home, the squeals and shouts coming from the kids could be heard from the driveway. When Harry leaned on the doorbell shortly before two, Olivia was standing at the top of the stairs, holding a screaming toddler in her arms. Her sister was in the midst of moderating World War III between the girls and Jeff was attempting to pack for his upcoming road trip.

“Steph, I have to go!” Olivia called impatiently, bouncing Jase on her hip, and seeming to irritate him more. For being just two, Jase knew when his dad was getting ready to leave and he didn’t handle it well. Today was no exception.

“I don’t care if Barbie told you to; she did not want a bath in the toilet!”

Olivia groaned loudly and, not wanting to leave Harry out on the porch – though not really wanting to subject him to the ensuing circus – darted down the stairs and pulled open the door.

“Hi!” she greeted breathlessly, the sight of his handsome face causing a wide grin to break out across her lips. Jase, however, had the opposite reaction. He assumed that Olivia was taking him far away from his house and his parents. He reached out and braced his pudgy hand on the door jamb, letting out an ear-splitting shriek. Olivia winced at the sound, somewhat amazed that such a powerful sound could come from someone so tiny and – sometimes –cute.

“Hi, yourself,” Harry answered, his dimpled grin seguing into a wince matching Olivia’s. He laughed at Jase, reaching out to tickle the bottom of his bare foot. The toddler whimpered, snuggling closer to Olivia as the strange man spoke to him. “It’s okay, bub,” he told Jase, the coo in his voice sounding adorable to Olivia. “I’m just going to give your pretty auntie a kiss, okay?”

Harry met Olivia’s eyes and grinned at her, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her closer to him. Olivia smiled against Harry’s lips, elated that he didn’t feel the need to wait to kiss her. After spending so much time against his lips the last time they were together, she didn’t know how long she could wait to do it again. She braced her hand against Harry’s chest and reminded herself to keep a grip on her nephew, who was silently watching Harry and Olivia, his eyes darting back and forth between the pair.

Harry let out a laugh, pulling away from Olivia for just a moment before pressing his lips against hers again. “I didn’t want to wait,” he admitted with a chuckle, tightening his grip around her waist.

“Good, because I didn’t want to either,” Olivia beamed, standing on her tiptoes to kiss Harry again and again wondering how it was possible to feel this way after knowing someone just a short time. Jase had decided he was no longer fascinated by the actions of his aunt and the stranger, and quickly remembered he’d been having a tantrum, which he easily began again.

“Sorry, little man,” Harry added to Jase, poking the child’s round belly. Jase let out another whiny whimper, and Olivia patted Harry’s hand reassuringly.

“He’s not the happiest of campers today,” she told him unnecessarily, shifting Jase higher on her hip. “I’m just going to go get rid of him,” she added, gesturing towards the stairs. Harry nodded before Olivia ascended the stairs, bursting into the bedroom her nieces shared.

“Violet, I cannot understand you when you bark like a dog,” Stephanie was saying as she sat cross-legged on the floor, her daughters in front of her. Olivia plopped Jase on the floor beside his mom, wondering if Stephanie even noticed.

“I’m out of here,” she announced, disappearing from the bedroom before Stephanie could answer. After popping across the hall to say a quick goodbye to her brother-in-law, who wouldn’t be home until after Olivia had left, she bounded back down the stairs, feeling giddy as she saw Harry waiting patiently for her.

“Alright!” she announced happily, picking up her bag from the bottom of the stairs. “I’m all yours,” she told Harry, her statement causing her to utter a girly giggle – something that was quickly becoming par for the course when she was with Harry… or thinking about Harry… or talking about Harry...

He chuckled, keeping his eyes on Olivia as she danced down the stairs. He had a way of looking at her that made her feel bashful and sexy at the same time. “That’s what I like to hear,” he told her teasingly.

Olivia smiled as she opened the door and touched Harry’s back, directing him to exit first. She stepped out behind him and in one, swift motion, spun on her heels and faced Harry. She cupped his face between her hands and pulled him to her. Her lips quickly found his and she hungrily devoured his mouth, feeling him reciprocate. It had only been a day since she’d last kissed him, but she felt completely insatiable. Harry grabbed Olivia by her hips and turned her, leaning her against the house. She became completely unaware that it was mid-afternoon in a suburban neighbourhood and was only aware of the feeling of Harry’s fingertips against her hips, the pressure of his body pressed against hers, the taste of his tongue fervently probing her mouth.

Harry let out a low, guttural groan, running his hands up Olivia’s torso, squeezing his strong hands against the side of her breasts. Olivia shivered visibly as she felt his touch, her trembles punctuated by a raspy sigh. She inched her hands down his body, grasping at his hips and tugging his lower body towards hers. She could feel his budding excitement through his tight jeans, and the feeling impassioned Olivia more. Harry’s hands cupped Olivia’s breasts and he broke off their kiss, his lips finding the sensitive area along her neck. Olivia moaned softly, stretching her neck to allow Harry to continue kissing towards her ear. Suddenly, Harry dropped his hands to Olivia’s waist and laughed against her neck as they heard a car door slam across the street.

“We’re on your sister’s porch,” he said, his statement muffled by Olivia’s neck. She joined in with his laughter, the realization of their location becoming apparent as she came down from the high of their fervid make out session.

“We are…” she agreed slowly, meeting Harry’s eyes and licking her lips as she grinned at him. While not normally a fan of PDA, the unexpected public lip lock with Harry was incredibly hot, and she realised she didn’t care if any of Stephanie’s neighbours saw.

Distracted, Harry massaged his hands against Olivia’s back, planting soft kisses along her jawline. He groaned after a moment, pulling himself away from her. “Okay,” he sighed, taking her by the hand. “Let’s get out of here.”

Olivia grinned, pleased Harry was so intoxicated by her. She squeezed his hand, letting him lead her down the stairs towards his car. He opened the door for her and Olivia slid in, keeping her eyes on Harry as he walked around the front of the car. She shook her head slightly – he was so hot!

Harry smiled at Olivia as he plopped into the driver’s seat, seeming almost bashful. He tickled the back of her neck as he stretched his arm across her seat, backing down the driveway. He caught her eye as he shifted out of reverse and rubbed her cheek with his thumb before finding her hand.

“How was the hockey game last night?” he inquired. “Did… we win?” he asked, obviously not remembering the name of his adopted home town’s hockey team.

Chuckling, Olivia shook her head. “No,” she answered. “But I saw some drunk Rangers fan fall down some stairs and spill their beer and nachos, so that was pretty much the highlight of the night.”

Harry laughed, “Poor schmuck,” he determined. “Those beers aren’t cheap!”

“That’s the truth,” Olivia agreed, tickled that someone in Harry’s shoes had an inkling as to how much arena beers cost. “How was your night?”

“It was really good,” answered Harry. “It’s been a long time since we all hung out together… like, before Christmas… so it was definitely… lots of catching up and stuff.”

“Really?” Olivia asked, sounding surprised. “How come it’s been so long?”

“Well, we’ve been on this break, and we’ve all kind of done our own stuff for the last year,” he explained, looking over his shoulder as he maneuvered through the lanes of traffic. “We text and talk all the time, but it’s pretty hard to get all of us together.”

Olivia nodded understandably. She knew how difficult it could be to get her and her sisters all together and that time marched on rather quickly – before you knew it, another year had passed with maybe one quick weekend visit. “So, what did you guys do?” she wondered, always curious as to what boys did when they had “boy’s nights”. Did they gossip and talk about girls, the way girls talked about boys? She wondered if Harry had told them about her.

“I, uhm… Well, I sort of have my own stuff coming out soon,” Harry told Olivia, sounding embarrassed to be talking about it. “Like… on the seventh, for the single,” he added, casting his gaze towards Olivia.

“Holy,” Olivia commented, feeling guilty that she didn’t know he had his own solo single coming out. But she hadn’t Googled him, and he hadn’t told her until just now, so it made sense that she was completely in the dark.

“Yeah,” Harry answered, letting out a quiet chuckle. “So… I just wanted them to hear it, and get their opinion, you know? They’re like my brothers…”

“Did they like it?” Olivia asked, her words intended to be teasing. “I mean, not that they wouldn’t,” she quickly corrected, reaching over and taking Harry’s hand.

Harry laughed. “I mean, they didn’t cry like my mom did, but…” He shrugged, chuckling again as he pressed a kiss against Olivia’s hand. “I think they like it. I hope they like it,” he added, sounding insecure. Olivia struggled to put herself in his shoes, but she had no idea what he was feeling about branching out on his own.

“I’m sure they did,” Olivia assured Harry, squeezing his hand. “I’ll bet it’s amazing,” she added, remembering how incredible his voice sounded on the beach. She wondered if he would let her hear it before it was released, but didn’t want to ask. It was one thing to let his mother or best friends listen to it, but she was just a girl he’d just met. It couldn’t be expected that he would let her hear it.

“I’m super proud of it, anyway,” Harry answered. “It’s gonna be super fun to tour it, but kind of weird without the boys with me. It’s… my show, and that’s strange to think about.”

Olivia smiled, but Harry’s announcement about touring left a funny feeling in the pit of her stomach. She couldn’t pinpoint why, so she tried to push the thought aside and squeezed his hand. “I might have to risk looking like a grandma and come to one of your shows,” she joked lightly, though the comment having more truth behind it than she intended.

“Better make sure you learn more of my songs than you did the band’s songs, then,” Harry teased, elbowing Olivia’s arm and grinning playfully at her. “So you’ve gotta learn, what, two?” Olivia scoffed, rolling her eyes at Harry.

“I might even learn three,” she teased back, happy that he wasn’t insulted that she didn’t know any of the band’s songs. After discussing it on the beach, she learned she knew one song – Perfect – but barely. She didn’t listen to the radio much, but it was always on in the staff room at work. Olivia strived to spend as little time in the staff room as possible, but during the few minutes a day she ventured to the coffee maker, the song seemed to be playing. In hindsight, she wondered if it was a sign.

“Always striving for perfection, aren’t you?” asked Harry good-naturedly, his statement accented by another squeeze of Olivia’s hand, indicating that he wasn’t insulted by her lack of One Direction knowledge.

“Well, I am a Capricorn, so…” she joked back with a shrug, realising just then that she had no idea when Harry’s birthday was – or his age.

He grinned at her. “When is your birthday, anyway?” he wondered, as though he was inside her head. It wasn’t the first time she felt as though he could read her mind.

“December twenty-fourth,” Olivia answered. “Christmas Eve. Worst birthday ever,” she added with a groan. “Guess how many sleepovers I got to have on my birthday? I’ll tell you… none.” She finished her complaint with an exaggerated pout.

Harry chuckled. “That’s Louis’ birthday, too,” he told her. “He says the same. Well, not about the sleepovers… but probably.”

“That’s funny. Small world,” Olivia commented, wondering if it was, again, a sign, that one of his best friends shared her birthday. She knew it was a rare birthday, but decided it would be more of a sign if she shared a birthday with Harry.

“When’s yours?” she asked him, praying he wasn’t more than a decade younger than she was. He’d told her on the beach that his music career began when he was sixteen, but she had no idea how long it’d been going on for. She realised they’d spent more time making out than trading life facts. Not that she was complaining…

“February first,” he answered, “Nineteen ninety-four,” he added, casting a sideways glance at Olivia, appearing to try to gauge her reaction.

Olivia was silent, doing the quick math in her head. Nine years, but closer to eight, as she was born at the end of the year and he at the start. She grinned at Harry after a moment, tickling the palm of his hand.

“Good thing I like younger men,” she teased him. She did, but granted, they generally weren’t as young as Harry. She didn’t tell him that, though. She found herself realising that she didn’t care about his age. He could be twenty-three, thirty-three, forty-three… she would still feel exactly the same way about him.

~*~*~

“Well, here we are,” Harry comment unnecessarily, driving slowly up the long driveway as the gate opened. Aside from the gate – which everyone and their dog had in Los Angeles – the house was not as ostentatious as she’d expected. It was quite a modern home, which usually wasn’t her style, but Olivia found herself loving it already.

“It’s beautiful,” she told Harry as he pulled into the garage. She felt a nervous flutter in her stomach at the realisation that this was the first time they were completely alone. There was always a chance someone could have come across them on the beach, and her sister had been around them the other times. She wondered if they would continue what they’d begun on Stephanie’s front porch. She knew she definitely wanted to, but she also knew she wanted it to be more than just physical with Harry.

But with the distance, could it be more?

“Thank you,” Harry smiled, “It’s got a great view,” he added, leading Olivia into the house. She was immediately met with a repugnant smell but bit her tongue from commenting. It didn’t bode well for Harry’s housekeeping skills, and she was about to take a point away from him when she realised it wasn’t bad housekeeping. It was burned food.

“What’s that?” she asked hesitantly, noting the look on Harry’s face and knowing he smelled it too.

His face paled, grimacing. “I put… well, I mean… it shouldn’t have burned!” He led Olivia to the kitchen, where the smell was more prominent. The oven was dark, the counters clear – save for a pristine-looking slow cooker with an orange light glowing from the centre of the appliance. Harry strode across the kitchen and pulled off the lid. The smoke building up inside the slow cooker erupted from the machine, billowing under the cupboards and filling the room.

Olivia covered her mouth, first in shock and then to stifle a giggle. She didn’t think she’d ever seen anyone burn something inside a slow cooker. She had been certain they were dummy-proof but Harry – sweet, adorable Harry – was quickly proving her wrong.

“It still had two hours!” Harry exclaimed, waving his hand in front of the slow cooker in an attempt to rid the smoke. “Are you laughing?” he asked Olivia incredulously, though his own mouth was quirking upwards.

“No,” Olivia answered, the word filled with vibrato as she abandoned her attempt to hide her laughter. She braced her hands on her knees, doubling over with laughter. She felt a modicum of shame laughing at Harry, when he’d obviously been trying so sweetly to cook her dinner, but the situation was hilarious to her.

“Oh, shut up,” Harry said, crossing his arms across his chest, trying to sound annoyed. “I try and cook a nice meal for you, like a nice guy, and…” He trailed off, watching Olivia laugh for a moment before allowing himself a chuckle. “Why’re you so cute when you laugh?” He wondered, pulling her into a hug.

“I’m sorry!” Olivia laughed, not sounding sorry at all as she linked her arms around Harry’s back. “I’ve just never seen this before! And I’ve lived in dorms with someone who cooked cookies in a toaster oven! I’ve seen some shit…” she added, planting a kiss on Harry’s cheek. “Thank you, though… for supper… I think?” she told him, struggling to get the compliment out without laughing.

Harry laughed, Olivia’s giggles contagious. “You have to eat it,” he instructed her. “Otherwise, I’ll feel bad. You don’t want that, do you?”

Olivia snickered, hugging Harry tightly. “Well, I’d rather that than that,” she teased, indicating to the hot slow cooker. “What’s it supposed to be, anyway? Oh, wait!” she told him, pulling away and giving him a cheeky grin. “I subbed an art class for a couple weeks. We’re not supposed to ask that. Instead… can you tell me about the supper?” she asked, querying in her best teacher voice.

“Fuck off,” Harry laughed, gripping Olivia’s shoulders and giving her a gentle shake. “It was supposed to be the best chicken of your life,” he told her, peering into the pot. The black blocks of chicken were still floating in a sea of liquid, so it was a bit peculiar that they’d burned so tremendously. “I suppose now, I have to find another way to impress you,” he told her sassily, his words insinuating much more than what was said.

“I’m sure you can,” Olivia answered cheekily. “But… on an empty stomach?” she asked, gesturing to the slow cooker and cracking up again.

“I swear, I followed the recipe exactly!” Harry exclaimed. He broke away from Olivia and pulled out his phone. He scrolled through it until he found what he was looking for. “It’s just faulty electrical… it has to be…” he mused as he read through the recipe. After a moment, he furrowed his brow and pursed his lips. “What?” he muttered to himself, stepping to his dishwasher and pulling out a used Pyrex measuring cup. He looked at the cup, then his phone and back again before grinning sheepishly at Olivia.

“So… I guess… I filled this with honey,” he confessed, holding up the two-cup measuring cup. “Uhm… I guess they changed the recipe on me… and it should have been to here…” he told Olivia, pointing to the half-cup mark.

Olivia snorted, not bothering with covering her mouth as she erupted with laughter. “Oh, my God!” she exclaimed, wanting nothing more than to cover Harry’s sweet face with kisses. His effort was adorable – unsuccessful as all get out, but beyond precious. She stepped towards him, wrapping her arms around his waist. “You are so sweet,” she told him, nuzzling his neck. “I’m sorry for laughing,” she told him, her voice still clouded with laughter.

“You are not,” Harry told her with a chuckle, running his hands up and down Olivia’s back. “But, as long as I get an A for effort…” He trailed off, kissing her cheek.

Olivia pulled away, meeting Harry’s eyes with a smile. “Thank you,” she told him sincerely. She didn’t care about the lingering smell of burned chicken-and-honey in the kitchen. He’d tried to cook her a delicious supper, and despite his epic failure, Olivia couldn’t have been more smitten.

Notes