#harry da

"Please. My dad is probably going to be locked up in the house, designing and drawing. We are barely going to see him."

"Fine, but you have to stick up for me if he kicks me out of the rental for nudity," Y/N said, laughing along with Scarlett, who knew her father was likely too busy to pay attention to their outfits, even on vacation.

Y/N continued her packing, occasionally glancing at the screen to see Scarlett’s reactions. After sorting through a few more outfits, she plopped down on her bed with a sigh.

"I am so excited," Y/N said, smiling at Scarlett. "A much-needed break."

"From all the partying," Scarlett laughed. "I am actually looking forward to some quiet time away from all the nonsense."

"Have you talked to him? Has he texted you?" Y/N asked, referring to Scarlett's boyfriend, Henry. They had a fallout two days before the break when Scarlett told him he could not go to the Bahamas with them.

"He is still giving me the cold shoulder," Scarlett shrugged, trying to act like she was not hurt, but Y/N could read her too easily. She could tell Scarlett was hurt and disappointed. "I am just not ready for him to meet my dad. Why is it so hard for him to understand? He means everything to me. I do not bring every guy I date to meet my dad. It is disrespectful."

Henry and Scarlett had started going out four months ago after meeting at a dorm party.

"His reaction is very childish if you ask me," Y/N said. She could tell that they were not going to last. Scarlett hated being restrained or forced to do something she did not agree with. "He is your dad. You choose when is the right time to meet him."

"I feel like he is just using the excuse of meeting my dad to tag along on the trip," Scarlett revealed. "Why would he want to meet him when we have only just met?" Y/N nodded, since she had thought about it too but had refrained from saying it.

"Time will only tell, Scar." Her best friend only nodded. After they hung up, Y/N felt a mixture of excitement and strange, lingering nerves. She finished packing and went straight to bed.

The day of the trip finally arrived. Y/N was getting some much-needed coffee and a snack when she was interrupted by a call from Scarlett.

"I will never understand why people can be so slow through the TSA—"

"Y/N, please do not kill me," Scarlett interrupted, her voice filled with urgency. Scarlett clearly had a knot in her throat.

"What? What happened?"

"They are not letting me board the plane. My passport expires in less than six months." She sounded entirely embarrassed, since nothing like this had ever happened to her. Scarlett usually checked everything multiple times. However, the one time she had not was last night. "I have talked with my dad, and he is calling some people, but I am going to miss my flight and probably the first week of the trip until I can get it renewed."

Y/N could not believe what she was hearing. It felt as if someone had thrown a bucket of ice-cold water over her. She was incredibly disappointed and felt like crying.

"Y/N? Are you still there?"

"Yeah," she cleared her throat, noticing that the barista was calling out to her. It was her turn to order. Y/N stepped aside and allowed the next person to go before her, her appetite completely vanishing. "So, I am just going to find someone to get my luggage back and go home."

"What? You are not going to get on the plane? Why not?"

"What am I going to do there without you, Scar?"

"Relax, read a book, listen to music, get a tan and a massage, and wait until next week for me to get there. Do not be silly," Scarlett said, treating it like it was obvious. She was just calling to let Y/N know the reason for her absence, but that did not mean the entire trip was canceled. She was just going to be late.

"I do not know, Scar…"

"I am not taking no for an answer, Y/N. You spent way too much money on your seat on that plane. You opted out of eating quite a few times just to be able to afford it. My dad is already there, so you won’t be completely alone."

Y/N sighed, feeling torn between her deep disappointment and Scarlett's insistence. "Okay, you are right," she finally conceded, "but please hurry up."

“I will. I will miss you,” Scarlett replied. “I promise I will get on the first flight out as soon as I get my passport sorted. In the meantime, just try to enjoy yourself. It is the Caribbean, after all.”

Y/N nodded, taking a deep breath to try and normalize her pulse after the sudden wave of panic.

“I will try my best.”

“That is the spirit. Give my dad a hug for me and have a safe flight. Text me when you land.”

“Love you. Bye.”

After hanging up, Y/N forced herself to focus on the positive. The trip was a chance to unwind, and she needed to make the best out of it. She ordered her coffee, though her appetite had not quite returned, and headed toward her gate.

Y/N boarded the plane and found her seat. After stowing her carry-on, she settled into the window seat, gazing out at the bustling airport below. Just as she was about to pull out her book, a tall, handsome man appeared beside her.

"Looks like I am your seatmate," he said with a friendly smile, gesturing to the seat next to her.

Y/N smiled back, noticing his warm hazel eyes and easygoing demeanor. "Great, nice to meet you," she replied.

"I am Anthony," he introduced himself, extending a hand.

“Y/N," she said, shaking his hand. "Nice to meet you too."

As the plane took off, they struck up a conversation. Anthony was friendly and easy to talk to, and Y/N found herself enjoying his company. They talked about their reasons for going to the Bahamas, shared travel stories, and laughed about the little quirks of airplane travel.

"So, what is bringing you to the Bahamas?" Anthony asked after the plane reached cruising altitude.

"I am meeting a best friend for spring break," Y/N explained. "She got held up with a passport issue, so I am flying solo for now."

"That is a bummer," Anthony said sympathetically. “I am also heading there for spring break with some friends. Maybe we will run into each other again. What are your plans for the trip?”

“A bit of everything, I guess. Relaxing, exploring, and trying out some local food. You?”

“Pretty much the same. We are staying at a resort, but I am hoping to see more than just the touristy spots. I have heard the local culture is amazing.”

They continued chatting, sharing their interests and dreams. Anthony told her about his job in marketing, his love for surfing, and his plans to travel more. Y/N opened up about her studies, her passion for writing, and her excitement for the upcoming trip.

As the plane began its descent, Anthony turned to her with a smile. “Let me give you my number, just in case you ever want to join us.”

"Sure," Y/N said, smiling back. She handed him her phone, and he quickly entered his contact information.

“Feel free to text me if you want to hang out,” Anthony said, handing her phone back. “And if you ever want to try surfing, I am your guy.”

"I might take you up on that," Y/N said, slipping her phone into her bag.

Once the plane landed, they gathered their belongings and headed toward baggage claim together. "It was really nice meeting you," Y/N said as they reached the terminal.

"You too, Y/N. Have a great time, and hopefully, I will see you around."

"Definitely," Y/N replied, giving him a wave as they went their separate ways.

Scarlett had arranged for a driver to pick them up, so after she collected her luggage, she met with him by the exit doors of the airport. As Y/N exited the bustling airport, she was greeted by a warm, tropical breeze and the vibrant colors of the Bahamas. Her driver, a cheerful man named Marcus, welcomed her with a friendly smile and helped load her luggage into a sleek black SUV. Once she was settled in the backseat, they set off toward the villa where she would be staying with Scarlett’s dad.

The drive began with a stretch through Nassau’s lively streets, brimming with a mix of local culture and tourist attractions. Y/N watched as vendors sold fresh fruits and handmade crafts from colorful stalls, and locals mingled with visitors in an atmosphere buzzing with energy. The smell of jerk chicken and conch fritters wafted through the air, making her stomach rumble in anticipation.

As they left the city behind, the scenery shifted to a more serene landscape. Palm trees lined the roads, their fronds swaying gently in the breeze. The vibrant turquoise waters of the Caribbean Sea came into view, sparkling under the bright midday sun. Y/N marveled at the clarity of the water, which looked so inviting that she could hardly wait to dive in.

They passed through quaint villages with charming pastel-colored houses, each with its own unique character. Children played in the yards and neighbors chatted over fences, giving the area a warm, community feel. Y/N felt a sense of calm wash over her as they continued along the coastal road.

Y/N nodded, taking mental notes of places to explore once Scarlett arrived. The drive continued, and the road wound through lush tropical forests alive with the sounds of chirping birds and rustling leaves. The scent of blooming flowers filled the air, adding to the sensory delight.

As they neared the villa, the landscape became even more picturesque. The road led them up a gentle hill, providing breathtaking views of the ocean and the surrounding islands. The sun was beginning to dip lower in the sky, casting a golden glow over everything.

Finally, they arrived at the villa. It was a stunning, two-story retreat perched on a cliff overlooking the sea. The architecture blended modern elegance with tropical charm, featuring large windows, spacious balconies, and a thatched roof. The garden was a paradise of vibrant flowers, exotic plants, and a sparkling infinity pool that seemed to merge with the ocean beyond.

Marcus helped Y/N with her bags and guided her inside. The interior of the villa was just as impressive as the exterior. The open-plan living area was filled with natural light and decorated in soothing coastal hues of blue and white. Comfortable, stylish furniture invited relaxation, and the large glass doors opened onto a terrace with panoramic ocean views.

That is when she heard a heavy, raspy British accent coming from just around the corner.

“She is here. I will call you later. Let me know what they say. I love you.”

Harry, Scarlett’s dad, appeared from upstairs. “You must be Y/N,” he said, walking down the steps toward her. “I am Harry. Welcome to our little paradise.”

To say that Y/N’s jaw nearly hit the floor was an understatement. Slightly sunburned from a day in the Caribbean sun, his skin had taken on a warm, golden-red hue that only accentuated his sharp features. He was completely shirtless, revealing a broad, leanly muscled chest covered in a map of dark tattoos that trailed down past his waist. His swim trunks hung low on his hips, clinging effortlessly to his frame. Harry’s tousled hair, still damp from a recent swim, fell in heavy, soft curls around his face, and he slid a pair of sunglasses down the bridge of his nose to look at her. His eyes were a piercing green, locked entirely onto hers. His easy smile and confident demeanor were dizzying.

She had expected someone older, a conventional, graying father figure, not the youthful, devastatingly handsome man before her. He looked far too young to have a college-aged daughter. Y/N felt a sudden, sharp prickle of heat rush straight up her neck.

“Hi,” Y/N replied, her voice trapping in her throat for a second before she could find her footing. “Thank you for having me, Mr. Styles. It is so beautiful here.”

“Call me Harry,” he laughed softly, a low, rumbling sound that sent a shiver straight down her spine. He lingered a step closer than necessary, his gaze dropping down her frame for a fraction of a second before returning to her face. “I hope you will feel at home.”

As he spoke, the heavy air of the tropical afternoon seemed to thicken. The sheer confidence with which he carried his bare body was undeniably magnetic. Y/N suddenly felt entirely self-conscious, acutely aware of her travel-worn clothes and the fact that she probably smelled like a cramped airplane. She smoothed her hair, hoping she did not look as flustered as she felt under his intense gaze.

Harry seemed to sense the sudden tension. "Long flight?" he asked kindly, though his eyes remained fixed on her lips as she spoke.

"Yeah, a bit," Y/N admitted, her pulse racing as she stood so close to his bare chest. She could smell the scent of salt water and expensive cologne radiating off his skin. "I feel a little dirty and disheveled, honestly."

"Well, I can imagine you might want to freshen up," Harry murmured, his voice dropping into a smoother, quieter register. "Your room has a great view and a nice big bathroom. Why don't you get settled in, and we will have some lunch out here together later?"

"That sounds perfect," Y/N said, desperately needing to escape the magnetic pull of his presence before she completely embarrassed herself.

Harry gave her a slow, reassuring nod, his eyes locked onto hers. "If you need anything at all, just let me know. Scarlett speaks very highly of you."

"Thank you," Y/N said, her voice a little breathier than she intended. "I really appreciate it."

As she turned to head to her room, she caught herself glancing back over her shoulder. Harry had walked out to the terrace, leaning his hips against the railing as he watched her walk away, his expression unreadable behind his dark sunglasses. Y/N shook her head vigorously as she closed her bedroom door, trying to force her racing heart to slow down. She was here to enjoy a vacation with her best friend, not get completely derailed by her best friend's father, no matter how heavy the tension in that room had just been.

Once in her room, Y/N took a deep, shaky breath and started unpacking. The luxurious surroundings helped her relax, and as she stepped into the shower, she let the cool water wash away the travel grime and her lingering nerves. She knew this trip was going to be full of surprises, and meeting Harry was a dangerous first step.

After a refreshing shower, Y/N felt revitalized and ready to face the island heat. She rummaged through her suitcase, her fingers hovering over her clothes before deciding on something bolder. With a bit of confidence restored, she picked out that vibrant, coral bikini Scarlett had convinced her to buy. The color complemented her skin beautifully, and the cut was decidedly daring, hugging her curves perfectly and lifting her chest.

She took her time getting ready, applying a light layer of sunscreen over her bare shoulders and letting her damp hair dry naturally into soft, beachy waves. Y/N gave herself one last approving look in the mirror, feeling a sudden surge of adrenaline. She slipped into a sheer, flowy cover-up that did very little to hide the bright fabric underneath and grabbed her book before heading downstairs.

As she walked through the villa, the heavy silence was punctuated only by the distant crashing of waves. Stepping onto the sun-drenched terrace, she found Harry lounging by the edge of the infinity pool, sipping a drink. He looked up as her sandals clicked against the stone, and Y/N caught the exact moment his eyes widened, his gaze tracking the line of her legs as she approached.

“Better?” he asked, his voice low as he adjusted his posture on the sunbed.

Y/N nodded, enjoying the sudden, thick tension vibrating between them. “Much better.”

“I thought I would take your advice and relax by the pool for a bit,” she said, stepping up to the sunbed right next to his.

She deliberately let her cover-up slide off her shoulders, letting the fabric pool at her feet to reveal the coral bikini. She did not miss the way Harry’s breath hitched, or how his gaze slowly dragged down her exposed stomach, tracking the curve of her hips before forcing itself back up to her eyes. A heavy, thrilling wave of confidence washed over her.

“Good,” he replied, his voice noticeably rougher than before. He cleared his throat, gesturing to the sunbed next to his. “I hope you applied some sunscreen. The sun here is absolutely ruthless.”

“I did,” she said, offering a slow smile as she settled onto the cushion, fully aware of how much skin she was exposing right beside him.

She opened her book, trying to focus on the text, but the words blurred together. The silence between them was thick, heavy with an awareness that had not been there an hour ago. She stole a glance through her eyelashes. Up close, the sight of his broad, tattooed chest rising and falling just inches away was intoxicating.

"Good book?" Harry asked suddenly, breaking the quiet.

"Yeah, it is," Y/N said, turning her head to face him. "A mystery novel. It keeps me on my toes.”

"I like a good mystery," Harry murmured, his green eyes boring into hers with an intensity that made her swallow hard. "Keeps things interesting."

They fell back into a charged silence, the heat of the afternoon sun mirroring the heat building between their sunbeds. The rest of the afternoon passed in a blur of shared glances. Later that evening, Harry excused himself after dinner to work in his study, leaving Y/N alone on the terrace to watch the sunset, her skin still tingling from the weight of his attention.

“What are you working on?” Y/N asked the next morning, walking out to find Harry already seated at the outdoor table with his tablet and stylus.

“Designing a new building,” Harry murmured, looking up to track her movement as she sat across from him. As the owner of a major architectural firm, he spent most of his time hunched over blueprints, but today, his attention seemed fractured.

“What kind of building is it?” Y/N asked, genuinely intrigued as she leaned forward, resting her chin on her hands.

"A mixed-use development," Harry replied, turning the screen so she could see. "Retail spaces on the lower levels, residential units above. The goal is a community where people live, work, and play all in one place."

Y/N leaned in closer, sliding her sunglasses down the bridge of her nose to get a better look at the intricate lines. Her bare shoulder brushed against his arm, and a sharp jolt of electricity seemed to pass between them. Neither of them pulled away. “What is your vision for it?”

Harry’s eyes lit up, his voice dropping into that passionate, gravelly cadence as he explained the design. “It focuses on sustainability. Rooftop gardens, massive windows for natural light, energy-efficient systems. I want to create something that does not just look good, but feels good to exist inside of.”

Y/N listened, completely captivated by the deep baritone of his voice and the sheer brilliance of his mind. “It sounds truly special, Harry.”

“I hope it is,” he said, his voice lowering as his eyes dropped to her lips again, the blueprint completely forgotten for a long, heavy moment.

Y/N shifted slightly, a sudden wave of insecurity hitting her as she compared his immense success to her own aimless path. "Journalism," she admitted with a hint of hesitation, her gaze drifting out toward the ocean. "I chose it because I thought it would be interesting, but lately, I have been feeling like it is not what I am truly passionate about. Not like this is for you."

Harry listened attentively, his expression softening with genuine warmth. “I understand,” he said gently, reaching out to place a hand near hers on the table, close enough that she could feel the heat radiating from his skin. “It is okay. You are still young, and it takes time to find that fire. Have you thought about what actually inspires you?”

Y/N nodded, looking down at his large, ring-adorned hands. "I love writing and telling stories, but I haven't found that one thing that really lights a fire in me."

Harry smiled, a devastatingly tender expression that made her chest ache. “Don’t beat yourself up for it. You have a long way ahead of you, and sometimes that passion reveals itself completely unexpectedly.”

Y/N felt an incredible weight lift off her shoulders, the emotional intimacy of the conversation twisting tightly with the physical attraction she felt for him.

After a while, Harry put down his tablet and stretched, his muscles flexing beneath his tanned skin. "I think it is time for a swim down at the beach. Care to join me?”

Y/N did not hesitate this time. "Sure, why not?"

They made their way down a winding, secluded path bordered by thick tropical foliage, leading to a private stretch of beach completely hidden from the rest of the island. The soft sand was warm beneath their feet, and the turquoise water stretched out endlessly before them.

"Breathtaking as always," Harry remarked, standing at the water's edge. But as he spoke, he was not looking at the ocean. He was looking entirely at her.

The next day, a soft, rosy glow crept over the horizon, painting the island sky in deep shades of pink and gold. Harry woke before dawn, his usual routine, slipping on his running gear quietly so as not to disturb the peacefulness of the house. He tiptoed downstairs, the tiles cool beneath his bare feet, and headed toward the front door.

As he passed through the living room, his eyes caught on the terrace.

There, curled up on one of the sunbeds under a white cotton blanket, lay Y/N. She had fallen asleep waiting for the sunrise, her long lashes casting soft shadows on her cheeks, her face utterly serene in the early morning light. Harry froze, his breath catching in his throat. He stood in the doorway for a long minute, just watching the gentle rise and fall of her chest, a dangerous, heavy warmth spreading rapidly through his veins.

Pounding his feelings down, Harry quickly slipped outside and started his jog along the empty coastal roads. He pushed himself hard, his feet slamming against the pavement as he tried to clear his head, but every single thought center-aligned right back to her. He could not shake the image of her in that tiny coral bikini, the sound of her breathy laughter, or the intoxicating feeling of her bare skin brushing his at the design table. It was not just her body that was driving him insane, it was her mind, her vulnerability, and the effortless way she fit into his space.

Feeling a heavy wave of guilt, Harry quickened his pace, pushing his lungs to burn. He was forty-four years old. She was his daughter's best friend, sleeping downstairs in his villa, and he was completely, utterly losing control of his thoughts.

By the time he slammed back through the front doors of the villa, the sun was fully up, scorching the terrace. His skin was slick with sweat, his heart hammering wildly against his ribs. Desperate for any kind of relief, he marched straight into his bathroom and turned the shower dial completely to the left, stepping under the freezing, punishing spray.

He leaned his forehead against the cold tiles, panting, but the shock of the water did absolutely nothing to cool the fire in his blood. He closed his eyes, and all he could see was her. He could not get that damn bikini out of his mind. He remembered the vibrant color against her sun-kissed skin, the way it accentuated every single curve of her hips and the soft fullness of her breasts.

His hand, moving completely on instinct, crept down his stomach and gripped his throbbing, aching length. He let out a low, ragged groan into the empty shower, his grip tightening as he began to stroke himself frantically. The mental image of her took over completely. He imagined her naked, pinned beneath him against the mattress of his bed, her small hands clutching at his shoulders as she moaned his name, begging for him to give her what she wanted. He thought about how deliciously tight and scorching warm she would feel wrapping around him, how she would taste like sweet pineapple and rum, and his mouth literally watered at the thought.

He did not last long at all. With a loud, breathless grunt, he came hard against the tile, his chest heaving as the freezing water immediately washed the evidence down the drain.

Harry stayed under the spray for a long time, his breathing slowly rattling to a halt. As the fog in his mind cleared, a deep, heavy wave of shame settled over him. He ran a hand over his face, shaking his head. He was acting like a starved schoolboy, completely undone by a girl half his age, and she was sitting downstairs waiting for him.