THE TAYLORS [H.S]

12.

I felt like a Kardashian with the way Harry was following me. I was almost worried that someone would stop and ask me if I was famous because the jackass was walking two metres behind me, dressed in a dark shirt and dark jeans, a stupid fucking ear piece attached in his ear like he was working for the Men In Black. To top it off, he had sunglasses covering his eyes. Sunglasses. Inside. 

My cheeks burned with embarrassment as I walked through the mall, catching the gazing of far too many people for my liking.

"Could you be anymore discreet?" I snapped, turning my head to look at Harry. He had a his head raised high, hands clasped behind his back as he walked. "You're making this fucking awkward for me."

"Then go home," he snapped, with a simple shrug.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" I mumbled, rolling my eyes. I turned my back to him again, hitching my bag further up my arm.

"Obviously," he agreed, and I could almost hear his own eye roll. "It's my day off and you're dragging me out to shop. I'm sure your walk in wardrobe has enough clothes for you pick from."

He wasn't wrong, and I really didn't want to be here, but I knew he didn't want to be here and I was too caught up in my pride to give in and go home. I actually did have things I needed to do, and I was going to be late, but it was something I didn't want Harry to be around for. It was something I wanted to do alone. I just needed to figure out a way to get out of the house again without Harry noticing.

I glanced down at my phone again, frowning at how late in the afternoon it was getting. I had to be there in twenty minutes. Damn it. They were going to kill  me.

"Somewhere to be?" Harry's voice sounded from beside me, making me jump.

I glared at him, tucking my phone into my bag, and whacking him against his stomach as somewhat of a knee jerk reaction. "God, don't do that!"

Harry chuckled, not seeming bothered by my irritation. "Where are you heading after this?" He questioned me, an eyebrow raised.

I couldn't see his eyes from behind his sunglasses, but I could tell he was studying me for a reaction, one I didn't plan on giving him.

I kept my head forward, allowing the sound of my stilettos to click against the tiled ground to eat up the silence. Why I chose to wear a tight fitted dress and red stilettos to a fucking mall, was beyond my own comprehension. My feet were already aching but I'd be damned before I tell him that. He sighed, a sound that was all too repetitive around me.

"You know, one day something is going to happen to make you realize why you need to tell me these things,'' he said dryly. "Do I need to follow you tonight?"

I threw him a glare. "I am not going anywhere after this, well, not for a couple of hours. Clubs don't open until late, but I'm sure you know that."

"What's the lingerie for then?" he asked, humor apparent in his voice.

I scoffed. "I don't know what possessed you to think that I am buying any sort of lingerie, but I am not, sorry Sweets," I said, mimicking the obnoxious pet name he had thrown at me back at the house.

I was glad to say that I had redeemed myself since then, and the images of Harry shirtless neatly tucked into the do not enter part of my brain. I had enough instances where I was left wordless around Harry, my cheeks blazing red, unable to keep eye contact with the beautiful (yet painfully rude) British man.

I couldn't allow that to happen again. I was a Taylor, and Taylor's ooze power. They are always the most dominate person in the room and they do not let anyone take that away from them, under any circumstances. They are to belittle, never to be belittled. They are to stand tall with confidence and never cower with with fear. They are to show pride in the family name and never ever let someone see their insecurities.