Neon Red [Order The eBook] [Zayn]

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(DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. It's important to remember this is all totally fabricated, embellished, and exaggerated for entertainment purposes.)

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When T turned around to say something, our hands broke apart. She averted her eyes with a grin, but spoke anyway.

"You're gonna love it here...Kevin," she winked super conspicuously again.

"It's Mark," I corrected her.

"No, it's whatever she says it is," he pipped up, taking her side.

The instant we got to Brooklyn he told me he had bad memories of this place. Apparently he'd written a entire song about it, but wouldn't tell me what the tune was called or what it was about. It'd be on the album, he said, and I'd have to wait 'til may to hear it. From the change in his demeanor as we passed certain streets, I figured it must've been about me. He stared out of his window in a gloomy daze, leaving me to grapple with the awkwardness that had fallen over the car. Thankfully as we neared the port, he sprung back to life.

"No fooking way, mate! Are we taking a boat ride?!" he grabbed the back of my neck like he wanted to kiss me. I just grinned and stared at his lips.

"Not exactlyh, but close."

"Still...it's so fucking sick, Z. I never expected you to bring me here!"

"Told you you'd love it!" T said, grinning back at him.

"Well then, I guess you were right, love," he said softly, gazing into her eyes. I think he was flirting. Wow. I hadn't seen the 'magic' of Harry Styles from this perspective in a long time. Suddenly I remembered G's words from the other day about how he was rumored to sleep around LA so much. I shoved the notion out of my head as quickly as they entered, remembering how jealous she had been when she found out about he and I. Her word was simply not credible. Still, I forgot how he couldn't help but flirt with anything that moved, even if he never intended to carry through with any of it. He just liked to be liked and milked it in any way he could. Also, why the fuck did he never call me 'love'?

I cleared my throat, "This is, like, one of my sickest hideaways."

"You seem to have a lot of those," he muttered.

"It's super chill most days. Nice place to grab a drink. A bite to eat. People don't bother me around here, thank God. The owner's nice."

"Oh yeah?"

"Her name's Caroline. She's like a ship conservationist—"

"Preservationist," T piped up.

"Yeah, that's what I meant." We laughed.

The driver pulled in beside a massive historic tanker ship docked off the coast of Red Hook. Now we hopped out and told the driver to circle back in a few hours. Once we headed onto the deserted deck, Haz kicked my kneecaps out from behind, making my legs buckle. Caroline greeted us at the door to the gallery. Fuck she was a breath of fresh air, always happy to see me. She gifted us a huge smile and a 'Heyyyyy there'.

"There you are! Thought you'd changed your mind!" She was totally badass. A tall, blonde, middle-aged chick with a husky voice and as many tattoos as me. I'd met her a time or two hanging around the place with friends, and we got to know each other pretty well. Her dad got her into ships. She was slowly getting me into them too.