AUTHOR'S NOTE:

Greetings, earthlings! :p

TWITTER: @lovethedinklage

dedicated to Tugmaster832
for going from non-reader to risque reader
you've come a long way, baby :p

*****

"You have to get rid of those clothes. No scrubs. Too hospital-y."

"You're not into this?" I pose and try to look glamorous.

"The pigtails can stay. They're kinda hot." Fuck. His accent when he said hot gave me the WP.

"I'm kinda digging this bossy side, Mr. Styles."

"Yeah. You just wait," he sticks out his tongue. What a goof.

"Did you mention a manicure?" He looks at his nails, and we both laugh.

*****

I feel a huge relief getting things temporarily resolved with Harry. I ask what he wants for dinner, and on my way to tell Julie, I send Liam back to the room at Harry's request.

After chatting with Julie a bit, I encounter Liam in the hall on the way back to Harry's room.

"So you've got it in control for tonight?" Liam asks. "Sounds like you worked things out?"

"Yeah, I hope so. Did he say anything about it?"

"Not really. He mainly wanted to take a crap and have me empty it out before you came back so you don't have to mess with it tonight. I think he'd be stricken with embarrassment," Liam chuckles.

"Oh my God, Liam!" I cringe, "Shhh! Did you have to tell me about it?"

"Hey, I'm just trying to keep the lines of communication open," Liam grins.

"Well, be quieter talking about it. You know he's embarrassed." Poor Harry.

"I emptied his catheter bag too, so unless he drinks a wicked amount it shouldn't need messing with again tonight. But check it before you leave," Liam advised.

*****

Harry gives me a nervous half-grin when I enter his room.

"Julie said she'd bring dinner in about an hour," I inform Harry, and take a seat by his bed. "Do you need anything?"

"No, I'm alright," he looks at me expectantly.

"What?" I ask.

"Nothing," Harry smiles.

I shake my head and wonder what he's thinking of, and my mind drifts to the fact that he isn't wearing any pants under that blanket. "Well, we have an hour 'til dinner, so do you want to take a look at some of your coursework?"

"Not really," he is still smiling.

"Why are you just sitting there grinning? You're weirding me out. Stop it." I give his shoulder a little shove and he laughs heartily, which is nice considering everything he's going through.

I speak again, "You're gonna have to communicate with me, cause I don't know what you expect besides your food, blankets, that kind of stuff. Do you want me to leave you alone, and you can ring a bell or something if you need me? Do you want me to stay with you?"

His smile fades into something a little more serious, "I want you to stay. You're staying."

"Okay, then. I'll stay." I want to reach out and touch his hair, but I don't. His incredible good looks are enough to saturate my panties, but we hardly know each other. I wonder briefly about his medical situation and possible outcomes.

"Aren't you going to ask me about the accident? Or about what I can feel and not feel? About....stuff?" Harry questions, his voice tentative.

I'm sure that's all anyone talks about with him anymore. The accident. His condition. Will he walk again? What about his future? Blah, blah, blah. Yes, I want to know, but at the same time he's got to be tired of it. If it were me, I'd need someone to treat me like my normal self.

"Not unless you have a burning desire to tell me about it right now? I thought maybe for today, we could just...be. You know?"

I practically had to shield my eyes from his megawatt grin. "I like that you don't treat me like I'm defective."

"Harry, you are not defective," I tell him, and provide quick distraction, "So, after dinner - homework, or movie?"

"Ummm.....," Harry's eyes look to the sky in deep thought, then back at me, "movie and my manicure. You promised."

I roll my eyes in a dramatic fashion, "If you want me to hold your hand, you could just ask."

My cell phone rings, and I pull it from my pocket to see it's Mr. Twist calling.

"It's your stepdad," I tell Harry, swiping to accept the call.

After the initial pleasantries and an inquiry about Harry, Mr. Twist says, "I'm glad everything is going well there, it's not going as well here as I'd hoped."

Uh-oh. "What do you mean?"

Harry's eyes are on me the whole time I'm talking. I make a face at him and he does likewise. Goof.

"I'm in Madrid on some business, and things did not wrap up as neatly as they were supposed to. I should have already been on the flight home, but I've got to go to dinner tonight and finalize some contracts," Mr. Twist informs me.

"Do you think you'll be home tomorrow?"

"Absolutely. The thing is, and I hate to ask you this on your first day with us, but - do you think you can stay the night at the house with Harry? The housekeeper goes home on the weekends, and I could call his mother to come over, but their relationship is questionable at best. I don't think he should be home alone yet until the arm heals and he's efficient in a wheelchair, at least."

As Mr. Twist talks, I'm serious, nodding, and saying "uh-huh" at the appropriate places, all under Harry's watchful green eyes. That boy has a serious gaze. I can feel his eyes on me even when I'm not looking directly at him.

"I understand," I say, looking to Harry, who looks concerned, "Of course I'll stay the night. It's not a problem."

Harry's brows lift and his eyes widen, "You're spending the night?!" He cheers in the background.

I cover the speaker on my phone, "Not if you don't behave, I'm not." I try to look menacing but fail.

"Is everything alright there?" Mr. Twist inquires.

"Yes, Harry's a tad excited," I say with a laugh.

"I'm sure he is. He's been so bored, I'm sure your company is a breath of fresh air for him. Are you sure you don't mind?"

"It's fine, really it is," I assure him. "I'd be glad to do it."

As I'm wrapping up the call, Julie comes in with our dinner.

"Sherry's spending the night," Harry tells her with a grin.

*****

Harry and I eat our dinner and talk while a rerun of "Friends" plays in the background. I take our dishes, load them in the dishwasher, and call Kate to discuss staying overnight at Harry's. She says it's fine and we'll touch base in the morning since I had taken her car. She also reminds me to ask about Niall.

As I enter Harry's room I ask, "Do you mind if I take off my shoes?"

"Take off whatever you'd like. Personally, I'm not wearing any pants," he winks.

"Thanks for reminding me of that. I'd almost forgotten," I kick my shoes off in the corner. I thought he was embarrassed by this earlier. I think he's seeing if he can rattle me by mentioning his nakedness. N-a-k-e-d.

"Is 9 ½ Weeks on Netflix?" Harry asks, scrolling through the options.

"We are not watching 9 ½ Weeks on our first date," I argue.

"Date? You're getting paid. I pay, I choose."

"Your stepdad's paying," I return, "and you said you were going to ask me out. That's so sweet, Harry," his face reddens as I lightly pinch his cheeks like a child, but he can't help but giggle.

"Alright, cut it out," he is able to grab both my hands in his one good one and push me away, "If it's a date, I initiate all touching. I'm the man." Then, "Do my nails."

I didn't mind his bossiness because it was so adorable. "Let me see if I have my manicure set on me," I say digging through my purse. "Ah - here it is!" I pull out the little pink box covered in daisies and display it for Harry's viewing pleasure much like Vanna White does when turning the letters on Wheel of Fortune.

"That pink case is ridiculous," Harry scoffs.

"All that matters is the outcome, Harry," I sit down to his left and hold my hand out for his.

Harry rests his left hand lightly in my palm. I bring his hand up to examine his nails. "Tsk..tsk...Harry. They're bitten." I lightly tap the nail file on his knuckle. "And your cuticles are terrible. I'm going to need some water."

"Just don't make me bleed," Harry says as I exit to get a little bowl of water, "If you make me bleed, you have to do the pedicure too!" He hollers down the hallway.

When I return, Harry has One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest ready to go on Netflix.

He hits play and we begin his manicure. "Have you ever had a manicure before?" I ask.

"Nope. I either bite 'em or clip 'em," he laughs, watching the movie as I work.

I notice the hand on his good arm has some chewed nails, but the left hand not so much. Must be more difficult to nibble on them with his arm broken. I soak his hands one at a time in the water like they do when I go to the nail salon. Then I gently push his cuticles back. He mostly watches the movie and comments about things, and sometimes I feel his eyes watching me as I'm moving his fingers this way and that, clipping and filing. His fingers are long and attractive, and his skin is soft. I find myself oddly attracted to his hands. I wonder what his feet look like, and then the nude image beneath the blanket flashes to my mind, causing me to almost drop the nail file.

"You okay?" Harry looks as I fumble to recover the file and fail.

"Hmm?" I'm distracted, "Sure. Yea." I pick up the file from the floor and quickly do his last pinky finger.

"Man, that Nurse Ratched is hateful," Harry says, "what's her problem?"

"See how good you have it?" I wink, finishing up. "Do you want lotion?" I ask Harry.

"What?"

"At the salons when they're done, they put on lotion and rub it in. But that might be weird and girly."

"I don't care if it's weird and girly. I want the full experience," Harry says, speaking in that slow way he does, taking care to draw out the words full and experience even more than usual. He's obviously using his lips to hypnotize me.

"Well. Only cause you're paying me," I smirk.

I get out my pocket-sized Sweet Pea scented lotion from Bath & Bodyworks that I always carry in my purse. I squirt some into my hands, then take Harry's hands one by one, and massage it into his palms, his fingers, his cuticles, and a bit up his forearm. I look at Harry and his eyes are closed.

"Are you awake?"

"God, yes," his eyelids flutter open and for a moment, I'm breathless under his gaze. "That feels incredible." He says it in a way that I can feel it reverberate in my vagina.

I look away feeling awkward. "You know, they say the hands are one of the most overlooked erogenous zones on the human body," I ramble as I pack up the manicure kit. "The fingertips are the second most sensitive parts of the body," I continue as I turn away.

"Sherry," he swiftly reaches and tugs the hem of my scrub top before I can escape him.

I turn to him, all the while trying to avoid drowning in those green eyes, "Hmm?"

He takes my empty hand in his and smiles. "Thanks for the manicure."