The Challenge

Prologue

"There's no way you can do it!" I laughed and poured us another shot of vodka.

 He scoffed. "You really don't think I can do it? How little faith you have in me!" He placed his hands over his heart, and tilted his head back.

"Oh shut up and just take the shot!" I passed him the shot glass and we clinked the glasses together, titling our heads back and making similar disgusted faces.

"Why do you like this stuff again?" He groaned, wiping his mouth of the excess vodka. His eyes shone bright green as he looked at me.

"You don't like southern comfort. You don't like tequila. You don't like sambuca. I don't like Jack Daniels. I don't like rum. I don't like bourbon. This is the only thing we can ever agree on!" I poured us another shot.

He grimaced before taking the shot glass from me and we repeated the same action downing the shots again. We were sitting in the kitchen of Harry's London house. He had finished his first night at Wembley and we hadn't seen each other since he had last been home months ago. I, Georgia Gibson, had just gotten back from holiday in Greece and he called me as soon as I landed making plans for the two of us to catch up and drink tonight. Harry Styles, one of my best friends was a member of the band One Direction. You've probably heard of them.

"Ugh, Gee, let's chill on the shots. I do have to perform in front of 90,000 people again tomorrow." He turned and went to the sink, filling up a glass of water.

I laughed. "Never stopped you before!"

"I know! But I have to be on my game. There's a huge after party tomorrow too, you're coming right?" He took a sip of his water and passed me the glass.

"Mmm.. Perhaps. Anyone sexy going?" I took a sip of the water.

"Loads of models and loads of bottles." He adopted a gangster pose and threw up the duces sign at me.

I laughed. Maybe it was the alcohol or maybe it was the fact that no matter how hard he could try, I would never find him sexy. We were just friends. He was not my type at all. I preferred my men to have gone through puberty in the 1990's at least. Granted, I was only 23 and he was 20, but still. They say age is nothing but a number but not when it came to Harry. He would always just be my friend.

"See! This is why you could never do it!" I exclaimed going back to our previous conversation.

He cocked his head, looking at me confused. "I could. I bet you I could."

"Really, Harry?" I opened up the browser on my phone and typed in his name. "Just look at this! Taylor Swift, Kendall Jenner, Lucy Horibon, Emily Atack, Emma Ostilly, oh! Here's my favorite one still! Caroline Flack! Do I need to go on?"

He held up his hand, laughing. "Okay, okay, but you know the truth behind all of those."

"Weak defense! Most of these girl are the ones you were 'rumored' to be with." I held up my hand making air quotes.

"Oh, fuck off." He flashed me a cheeky grin, pouring us both shots. I raised an eyebrow.

"I'm going to accept your challenge," he said and clinked his glass to mine. "But there's one condition."

We took our shots and set down the glasses. I leaned against the counter, resting my chin in my hand. "What's that?"

"If I win, we have sex."

My eyes widened. "What?!"

He nodded. "It only seems fair, Gee. If you think I can't go six months without sex, then it should only the most logical thing that sex with you is the prize. Then maybe you'll understand why everyone wants a piece of Harry Styles." He danced around the kitchen, imitating the way he danced on stage when he performed. He stuck his tongue out at me.

I contemplated the pros and cons of this agreement. There was no way he could do this. He could barely go a week without being linked to some supermodel in the media. He would last a month at most. "And if I win?"

"I'll buy you a Maserati!" He exclaimed proudly.

I shook my head at his logic. "I'm glad you think sex with me is the equivalency of a £100,000 car."

He winked. "You should feel flattered. That's a very expensive car." He poured us another shot.

"What happened to, 'I have to be on my game tomorrow'?" I did my best to imitate his gravely voice.

"Don't change the subject," he said, pushing my shot glass towards me. "You're afraid I'll win!"

I laughed, shaking my head. "No, I'm not. I'm almost positive you will fail within a month. But c'mon, a car? It has to be better than that!"

I clinked my glass with his and we downed the shots. My eyes lit up when I thought of the perfect prize if I won. "If I win, you have to post a video on Instagram to Taylor Swift, saying you wish the two of you had never broken up and you want her back!"

He groaned and put his face in hands. "No fucking way. You know how fucking crazy she is!"

I remembered Harry turning up at my North London flat the one day, Taylor hot on his heels. He hid in my bedroom while she banged on the door, demanding he come out. I never let him live that down and brought it up whenever possible. Whenever I needed a laugh, I watched the video clip of Taylor Swift at the VMAs mocking his British accent with the camera panning to his face. What can I say? It made me laugh. I even had Harry's ringtone set to "I knew you were trouble" so I knew when he called or texted me.

"Oh, what? You afraid I'll win?" I mocked his comment to me.

He stared into my eyes. "No, I'm not."

He left the room, tripping over his own two feet and returned a few minutes later with a notebook and a pen.

"We need some guidelines then. Okay, when do I officially have to start?"

I pulled out my phone, noting the date of 6 June. "21st of June," I replied.

He raised an eyebrow. "Okay. So from the 21st of June to the 21st of December, I Harry Styles, am not allowed to have penetrative sex with anyone."

"No, no, no, if you're going to do this, you need to go all the way. Nothing, cuddling is about as close as you can get. And even still that can only happen during daytime and in public places. Give me this!" I snatched the notebook from his hands and began scribbling a list of rules.

I handed him back the notebook and he read them over.

1. No kissing

2. No touching boobs, vag or dick

3. No giving or receiving oral sex

4. No penetrative (including anal) sex

5. No cuddling unless during the hours of 8am and 8pm

7. Masturbation is allowed

8.  Flirting is allowed

9. Sexting is allowed

10. If anyone asks why you're not having sex you tell him or her you fucked a 300 lb. woman named Betty last night and she gave you all the loving you needed for a lifetime.

"No kissing?! Really? Like no tongues or what?"

"Out of all the rules to comment on, that's the one you have a problem with?" I laughed. "Kissing leads to sex. Sorry, I'm just trying to help you out!"

He rolled his eyes and put the list down, coming dangerously close to me. Our bodies were mere centimeters apart from one another. I could feel his hot breath on my cheek as he whispered in my ear. "You better be the best damn piece of ass I've ever had then."

I pushed him away from me, shaking off the chills I got from the sound of his low voice.

"I can't wait to see Taylor's reaction from the video," I poured us another shot before we finished writing out our makeshift contract. We sloppily signed the bottom of the sheet of paper, framing it and putting in on Harry’s wall in his living room. We finished the bottle of vodka and stayed up until 4AM playing Guitar Hero. I would never play Song Star or Just Dance against Harry since there was no chance in hell I would win.

When I left Harry's the next morning, I left a sticky note attached to his forehead that he would see when he woke up, reading "14 days of freedom left!"