Phoebe's POV
Alistair and Johnson huddled together, whispering secrets like schoolboys, completely oblivious to the fact that Harold had already whisked me upstairs.
"What's the rush?" I asked, struggling to match his pace.
Harold was practically dragging me along, his steps quick and purposeful.
"Babe, I've got something incredible to show you," he said, that mysterious glint in his eyes.
Confusion washed over me as I followed him into our bedroom. The moment he shut the door and pressed me against it, I couldn't help but laugh despite my exasperation.
"So this amazing thing you wanted to show me is just... you?" I raised an eyebrow.
His eyes sparkled with mischief. "I know that disgusting old creep made your skin crawl tonight. Come on, sweetheart, let me give you something much better to feast your eyes on. Take all that frustration out on me."
"You're absolutely shameless," I scolded him playfully. "Now show me what you really brought me up here for."
