Friends With Benefits


9. Chapter 9

"Phew, that was close." I said, relieved that we got away.
"What was?" Harry asked.
I rolled my eyes at how clueless Harry was to the whole situation.

As we pulled up to a stop sign, I reached to his back seat, trying to look for something he could dry off with. As I was rummaging through the mess he had thrown all over the ground, his hand started moving up my thigh to the hem of my skirt. I froze. 
"I want you," he whispered into my ear.
"Harry, you're drunk," I said, grabbing his hand and moving it off of my thigh. 
"Drunk on my feelings for you right now," he slurred, with a cheeky smile.
"Oh God, that was the cheesiest thing I have ever heard," I said laughing. I could not take him seriously right now. He was far too gone to realize what he was saying.
"Oooh, cheese. Can we get pizza?" Harry asked excitedly, seeming to completely forget about what he was just doing.
I rolled my eyes. "Yes, when we get home I'll order a pizza." I figured it was a good idea anyway since he hadn't eaten anything, and it might sober him up a bit.
I couldn't find anything he could dry off with, so I turned off the ac so he wouldn't get sick, and headed back to his house.

I grabbed him by the waist and held his arm around my shoulder as I guided him up the front steps. All of his weight was leaning on me to support himself. I fiddled around with the keys until I finally was able to open the door.

More stairs. Great. 
"Harry, why don't we just go sit on the couch for a bit," I said as I dreaded having to carry him up to his room.
I led him to the couch and he plopped down. 
"Okay...stay," I said to him as if I were commanding a dog. I chuckled to myself. I needed to get my overnight bag I had packed that was in his trunk.

When I came back Harry wasn't on the couch anymore.
"Harry..." I called out.

"I need 8 large...pancakes...yeah 6 of those...what...I can't understand you...deliver it to my house...hurry though cause I'm hungry...what do you mean you don't know where I live, you know where I live...I live at my house," I heard Harry slurring into the phone. I ran over and grabbed it out of his hand.

"I'm so sorry about that is this pizza hut?" I said. I wanted to laugh so hard. "I'll just take a large," I cuffed my hand over the phone, "Harry what kind of pizza do you want?"

"Cheese!" he said enthusiastically. 
"Oh right, I forgot," I laughed.
I finished ordering and they said they would be here shortly.

I took his phone to avoid any other drunken phone calls and ran up stairs to his room to put my things away and to get him some dry clothes.

As I got to his room, I kicked off my shoes. Oh man, did my feet hurt. 

"Okay, let's see," I said to myself out loud. 
"I need a dry shirt and some..." I paused. Oh crap. He needs to change his boxers too. 
I grabbed the first things I saw and headed back downstairs. 
Harry was staring out the window singing a song he made up.
"Pizza man, pizza man, where are you, Mr. Pizza Man? I'm so hungry, don't you know? Why do you have to drive so slow?"
I laughed and he turned around.
"Okay, Harry, let's get you changed," I said to him as he started walking over.
"Okay," he said and to my surprise, he started taking off his boxers.
"Harry!" I said, looking him straight in the eyes to avoid my gaze going down.
I sighed and ignored what had just happened and helped him put on the dry clothes. He put his hand on my shoulder to keep him balanced as he put his legs through his boxer shorts. I just kept looking up. This was so embarrassing. It didn't help that he was fumbling and couldn't get his legs in right. I swear it was like having to dress a little kid.

He finally managed to get them on.
Next, I began to take off his wet shirt. He smiled down at me. For a second I was lost in his beautiful green eyes. He started to lean in. I didn't move.

The doorbell rang and his head shot up. "Pizza!" he yelled. 
Saved by the bell.

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