Ooh, and she needed a couple of pairs of bras, and some panties.
Harleen felt herself smile. This could be fun.
The store, as usual, was slightly crowded, but it was big so Harleen didn’t feel too clustered or pressured by other people. There were times she hated stepping into any sort of store only because she had a unique taste in clothes, and the girls from Newport Beach had no problem with shooting her dirty looks or whispering about her under their breaths, loudly enough for Harleen to hear. So what if she wore shirts that weren’t the norm, like football jerseys or comic book shirts? Yeah, Harleen knew she wasn’t going to be on any Best-Dressed list, but she had never wanted to be there any way.
The first stop she made in Forever 21 was the plaid section. Harleen adored plaid – especially when the pattern was red and black. She had yet to find the perfect plaid shirt, but she kept searching and hoped that it would happen for her today. As she shuffled through the racks, her eyes caught sight of a yellow and black shirt that was kind of edgy, so Harleen looked for one in her size and grabbed it. She had always wanted a green and black one because green brought out her eyes, but yellow had always been her favorite color.
She spent a good twenty minutes looking at everything the plaid section had to offer her before turning her attention on the tops. Now Harleen never wore anything revealing, but there were times when she wanted nothing more than to slip on a sexy top and walk around so her boyfriend could see what a good thing he had.
Unbeknownst to her, Andrew had gotten a tip from Edgar that Harleen would be here. Surprisingly, Edgar knew where his niece shopped, which didn’t seem like information the older man had on hand. Andrew watched her for quite some time, amused when she would get frustrated with herself and furrow her brow, causing a wrinkle to appear vertically between her brow. Her teeth would gently gnaw on her bottom lip as she decided what to get and what not to get, and there always seemed to be a stray strand of hair in her face that needed sweeping away. For whatever reason, Andrew began to feel himself becoming more and more drawn to her for numerous reasons.
The obvious one was that she was more attractive than he initially thought, which was definitely good. Chemistry was an effective element when it concerned relationships, and even though he knew she would never admit it, he knew she knew they had chemistry. Another reason he felt himself drawn to her was that she challenged him in a way no one dared to do so. Of course, she didn’t know who he really was, and he found that he liked that. She looked good when she was mad at him as well, so that was always a benefit. But the biggest thing that turned him on about her was the fact that she wasn’t initially attracted to him. Andrew had a plan that would make such an obstacle change, but right now… Well, being the devil, he had had his fair share of women; they were literally falling over his feet in numbers, wanting some sort of attention from him, even if it was a mere glance. But Harleen? Harleen barely glanced his way. It made him want her more.
His natural crooked smile slipped on his face as he proceeded to move over to the silky tops. He could watch her for a while, he realized, and he would never be bored. Her face carried such exquisite beauty – angelic, to be more specific – and she had such expressions.
He needed to talk to her.
It was critical.
He walked over to her and positioned himself so there was no way she couldn’t see him. “Excuse me,” he began in his Australian brogue. He was pointing at the formfitting black shirt he was wearing, and his face took on a look of seriousness. “I need a female’s opinion; what do you think of this shirt?”
Harleen didn’t even look at him, but seemed to know exactly who addressed her. “I think it makes you look fat,” she said before glancing up and matching her eyes with his dark hazel ones. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m busy and can’t entertain you, so…” She let her voice trail off and then pushed her brow up in the door’s direction, indicating that he should leave. Now.
Andrew couldn’t stop the amused smile from slipping on his face as his eyes glimmered in surprise at the comment she had just made. He didn’t remember the last time someone ordered him to leave. In fact, no one had done such a thing; they knew better. He had never heard of it. Except when he saw religious men trying to exorcise the demons they thought possessed a person or a house, which amused him, but surprisingly effective. But a human?
“Actually,” he told her, cocking his head to the side and leaning over her shoulder so he was crowded her personal space. The subtle scent of jasmine mixed with vanilla radiated off of her and he inhaled, though not overwhelmingly so, before a small smile touched his face. “I’m here to go shopping as well, you know. School starts Monday. I need some new clothes. And lucky me! Since you’re here, darling, maybe you could help me look around for something that might suit me?”
“How about a restraining order?” Harleen muttered under her breath, but Andrew’s sharp ears picked up her words, and he chuckled.
“You know Harley,” he murmured, so his hot breath clouded over her neck. He smirked when he saw that goose bumps began to formulate where his breath touched her skin. “You are unlike any girl I’ve ever met.”
“I’m not surprised,” Harleen said, shifting her attention over to the jeans section. She carefully dodged Andrew, making sure she didn’t touch him, and headed in the middle of the store where racks upon racks with different styles of jeans were placed. When she realized he was following her, she glanced back at him and rolled her eyes. “What is it that you want? If you’re here to complain about my uncle, then I know and I’m sorry, but if you put your faith in Edgar, it’s your own fault. He’s just going to disappoint you in the end.”
This caused Andrew to arch one brow, his face slowly slipping into seriousness as he regarded Harleen in front of him. “He let you down, did he, Harley?” Andrew asked, his voice soft now, almost husky.
Harleen glanced away, choosing instead to go through some boot-cut jeans. “How many times do I have to tell you?” she murmured, avoiding the question. “The name is Harleen, not Harley.”
Andrew’s smile now pressed into a thin line, not because he was upset that she hadn’t answered his question, but to stop himself for continuously asking it until he got an answer. Instead, he placed his hands behind his back and began to follow Harleen through the jeans section.
“You’re never going to leave me alone, are you?” Harleen asked without looking at him.
“No,” Andrew said, shaking his head. “No, I don’t think I will.”
“And you’re not planning on telling me why that is, do you?” she asked, glancing at the size of the jeans, before grabbing one size bigger.
“All in good time, darling,” Andrew promised.
“I’m not your darling,” Harleen said, finally looking at him with an annoyed sparkle in her eyes.
“Not yet,” Andrew corrected, another cheeky smile on his face as he regarded her.
Harleen rolled her eyes again – she seemed to be doing this a lot whenever she was around him – but the tiniest of smiles touched her lips. “Okay,” she said, finally relenting. “Why are you here? I’m sure you can find any willing woman here to give you your opinion that you so need.”
Andrew looked at her for a long moment and then leaned in, once again invading Harleen’s personal space. “But see, I don’t want their opinions,” he told her in a low murmur. “I want yours.”
Harleen didn’t verbally concede, but she didn’t try and get him to leave. She probably couldn’t if she tried.
Five
Harleen would never admit it aloud, but she had fun with Andrew. When she got home, her hands were filled with bags that Andrew had helped her carry. In fact, Andrew bought a couple of things that Harleen seemed to particularly like on him when he wasn’t planning on buying anything. The mall was just an obvious cover to get closer to Harleen, and Andrew believed he was successful at doing so. Of course, Harleen wasn’t planning on breaking up with her boyfriend or falling
for Andrew or anything like that, but she had warmed to him. Slightly.
It has to be that accent, Harleen thought to herself as she headed up to her room. That’s why he comes off as more charming than he really is.
The young woman placed her bags next to the wall in her room and started to change out of her clothes and into sweats. Her eyes flickered out the window, instantly realizing that dusk was fast approaching. She ran her fingers through her hair, trying not to think about the fact that she found herself growing increasingly attracted to someone she didn’t even know.
But it wasn’t her fault. Andrew was the epitome of masculinity wrapped up in a rebel’s shell, and though she was dated a jock, she had always had a soft spot for bad boys. He was tall, probably six foot, with broad shoulders and a toned torso, muscles residing quite nicely on his body. Thankfully, he didn’t appear to have a big assortment of muscles, which was something Harleen had never been particularly fond of. His face was square-shaped and sinfully chiseled, with high cheekbones and a jaw line that Harleen was willing to bet could cut diamonds if he wanted it to. His eyes were a color Harleen had never encountered – a dark hazel. At first glance, she had thought his eyes were simply brown, but upon their close proximity at Forever 21, she realized there were flecks of green scattered throughout the iris. He was dressed with a slacker’s attitude – it didn’t appear that he cared too much about his attire, though his clothes fit his body well, and even seemed to match with his personality. His hair was long, barely reaching his shoulders, a dark brown color, with subtle waves. She had never thought she would like hair like that on a member of the opposite sex, but it fit him. Andrew could somehow pull it off.
Then there was that damn accent.
She recounted the story he had shared with her and her uncle, and though she found it disbelieving, she couldn’t help but be awed at the prospect of having enough money to live in Dover Shores and to be legally divorced from Edgar. It wasn’t like she had to wait long anyways. Her birthday was fast approaching, and once she hit eighteen, she was out of there. Or at least hoped to be.
Though Harleen would never admit it, the last thing she saw before slipping into slumber was Andrew’s god-like face.
Okay, where’s my straightener? I have fifteen minutes to straighten my hair and that is totally not even possible and oh, just screw it, now where are my shoes?
Harleen looked everywhere in her room for a cute pair of black flats she had bought a few weeks ago that she finally broke in and would go with the outfit she was wearing, but it took her longer to find them than she had originally expected. Yes, she was dressed – a tight, black, long sleeved shirt, tight white capris, and the flats. The hair that normally fell into her face was pinned back and Harleen had wanted to straighten it, but apparently, that wasn’t going to happen for that night. At least she had found those flats…
Currently, she bounded down the stairs, not really paying attention to her surroundings in any way, and came crashing into a tall, hard object she hadn’t realized was there. Except it wasn’t an object, it was Andrew.
What the fuck was he doing here?
“Whoa,” he said, grabbing Harleen’s forearm in order to steady her so she wouldn’t topple over. When she was righted, he still chose not to let go, at least not yet. He liked the feeling of her warmth against his cool skin. “You all right?”
“Yeah,” Harleen murmured, trying to catch her breath. Not that she was out of shape… She took a step back, needing to put some semblance of distance between herself and Andrew, at least for her own sanity. Oddly enough, she didn’t ask him what he was doing there. She just assumed it had to do with her uncle and didn’t want to know about their dealings together.
“Well, look at you,” Andrew said, his crooked smile etched out onto his face as he crossed his arms over his chest and took a step back so he could get a better look at the woman standing in front of him. “Don’t you look nice. Do you have a date then?”
“Actually, I do,” Harleen said. “And he should be here” - Before she could finish her thought, a car honked outside the house, informing the occupants that someone was outside and that someone was waiting. “Right. I have to go.”
“You’re really dating same prick that won’t even come fetch you at the door?” Andrew said, his nose wrinkling as he regarded Harleen with an obvious look of distaste and disbelief. She didn’t seem to be the type of girl who would go for someone who didn’t fawn over her.
“Yeah, well at least I’m not hanging out with some guy twice my age,” Harleen retorted, giving Andrew a dry look before turning and heading out the door and slamming it shut behind her.
Andrew frowned at her abrupt departure, hoping he would have the ability to spend some more time with Harleen, find out more about her. But all he got for coming over that night was a door slammed in his face and the realization that his girl was out on a date with another guy. If they were in Hell, the act would be inexcusable and completely disrespectful. But they weren’t in Hell, were they? This was life, and this was what he would have to deal with until he somehow won her over and they were there, in Hell, away from these nonsensical games men and women played.
However, as the turnstiles began spinning in Andrew’s mind, he realized he could spin this in a positive light. Yes, despite the beliefs, the devil was rather optimistic, but then again, that was probably because he usually got his way. A triumphant smirk littered his face and he slowly started to head up the stairs, knowing full well that Edgar was not home at present – truth be told, Andrew didn’t know where Edgar was and didn’t particularly care. Since it was Andrew’s money that paid for the house, Edgar surrendered a house key specifically for Andrew, and Andrew planned to use Edgar as an excuse to be at the house when in reality, the sole reason for his presence was Harleen.
But all was not lost. He might not have her there to talk to him, to tell him about her, but he certainly had her room, and a room was just as – if not, even more – revealing than the actual person. He didn’t have to search long to find the room, down the west hallway. Her subtle scent wafted through the halls, as though it led him to her, beckoning him. And he was more than willing to obey such a call.
Surprisingly enough, Andrew saw no posters adorning her walls, as was custom for girls her age. Not that he saw her as a girl. Harleen was all woman in his eyes, and in a manner of months, she would be legally an adult. He looked as though he was her age, and in this world, he was. Instead, pictures of who he assumed were her parents, pictures of her with her friends including that brute she considered to be her boyfriend, pictures of her at Disneyland. She seemed to revel in memories.
Her room was neat and clean, even though she seemed to have been rushing out of the house.
Andrew had hoped for something like a diary, a journal, something that would reveal her secrets, but he would just have to put psychology into effect and interpret what it was her room said about her. For whatever reason, his mind drifted to sex, and for what seemed to be like the twelfth time, he idly wondered if Harleen was still pure. His dark hazel eyes flickered over to a picture that housed Harleen and whatever her boyfriend’s name was, hoping that the picture would tell him what he needed to know.
Hmm.
He wondered what she would taste like, what Harleen would feel like quivering underneath him, gasping his name, begging him not to stop. He bit his bottom lip. How he longed to make such a fantasy a reality, and it would be even better if she was pure, untouched.
Soon Andrew. Soon you’ll be able to claim her as you own.
Six
The next morning, Harleen woke up at seven so she could take a quick shower before she ate breakfast and got ready for school. It was still March, and a countdown until the end of school seemed too early. Not until mid-April after spring break at the very least. Normally, she didn’t take showers in the morning, but she had time on her hands and had nothing better to do, so she stepped into the bathroom and tried to relax her muscles. H
er eyes closed and she let the drops hit her like the rain. Though she loved learning and the social environment school provided, she wished she could run away from it all at times. She didn’t like waking up so freaking early, didn’t like sitting through menial lectures. She just wanted it to be over.
When she stepped out of the warm atmosphere, Harleen wrapped a towel around her body and dried her hair with another one, taking her time. There was no need to rush; she had time. She threw on a pair of worn-out jeans and a House, M.D. t-shirt, one of her favorite shows on television. She didn’t even mind the damp locks tainting the white shirt, knowing it would dry up soon.
For some reason, as Harleen bounded down the stairs, she felt off. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but somehow she knew that today would prove to be eventful to say the least. What she seemed to be worried about was whether or not the day would provide to be beneficial or dismal in every way. That bothered her, but she tried to ignore it as she ate breakfast – a bowl of Mini Wheats and a glass of orange juice. Edgar wasn’t around, and Harleen suspected that he was probably still asleep. Not that she was surprised by such a thing.
After quickly brushing her hair and teeth, Harleen grabbed her backpack and keys, and headed out the door before heading to school. Newport Harbor High School was only ten minutes, if that, from where she lived, so traffic wasn’t too bad, at least not yet. There was a church across the street – St. Andrew’s Presbyterian Church – that allowed students to use their parking lot occasionally, which was pretty cool. Once Harleen found a parking spot, she turned off the ignition and allowed herself to relax again, trying to get her mind in the set of school.
Her first class was English, one that she had with Rosco. She smiled at that, loving the fact that she had at least one class with her boyfriend. Of course, Harleen and Rosco weren’t the kind of couple that engaged in lots of public displays of affection – it was rare for them to be seen holding hands – but if one looked at Harleen when she was looking at Rosco, public displays of affection weren’t needed. He was her eye candy when class got boring, and they could study together before a test. In a weird, twisted way, it was kind of romantic to be in a class together.
Falling for the Devil: Book 1 of the Gods & Monsters Trilogy Page 3