Pretty Please Don't Pinch Me

26. Prior Engagements

"Oh," I awkwardly reply, quite unable to think of anything else to contribute to such an emotionally-charged conversation.

"Oh," he agrees wistfully.

"So... how's Poppy?" I ask cautiously, and I look for his reaction.

"Probably scheming the next way she can gain herself some attention," he answers, smirking. "You know that no one believes a word she's saying right?"

I shrug, "It's still annoying," and I take a sip from my glass.

"So what does your boyfriend think about all of this?" he interrogates, putting emphasis on the word 'boyfriend'.

"Well firstly, he's not my boyfriend, and secondly, I don't think he's even seen it. He probably has about 30 other articles written about him in the last hour. I don't think he cares enough to pay attention to that kind of gossip."

"So he's not your boyfriend?" he confirms.

I shake my head. I wish.

"Have dinner with me," he says forcefully, eyeing me the way in which a hungry cat would to a mouse. He asks me confidently, as though in his mind I've already agreed. I'm sure if it were used on any other girl, this would work - but thankfully, somehow I'm immune to his charms. I wonder if it would be this way if I hadn't met Harry.

I scoff, "That's not happening. Ever."

He looks amused, "Well never say never because you also said we wouldn't be seeing each other again, and look where we are right now."

"Only because you stole something of mine that I needed. Not to mention, you still haven't explained how you managed to get my phone number. I'll have to remember to change my details now."

"I like to think I was minding it while you were drunk," he explains, and I can't help but laugh.

"Whatever you say, Duke."

"So now who's a stalker?" His eyebrows raise in mock surprise, "It now appears the stalker has become the stalked."

"You wish. It just so happens that my friend keeps more up to date with these things than I."

"Alright, so lets get out of here if we want to make our dinner reservation," he says self assuredly. "Come on - Andale!"

"I told you, I'm not going to dinner with you." I get up and signal it's time for him to leave, and he follows suit.

"Why not?" he asks simply, almost as if the answer isn't completely obvious.

"Why not?" I repeat. "Because Max. You are an infuriatingly crazed individual who cares only about himself and-"

Before I know it he forced his lips against mine before I can even finish the rest of my sentence. He skilfully forces his tongue through my tightly closed lips and I'm resistant against him. I try to move away from him, yet he is holding me firmly in place. He cups my face passionately, and my mind instantly goes to Harry. I place my hands firmly on his chest and pry away from the kiss. It's over within seconds, almost as soon as it begun, and my mind is racing. This is wrong. This is so wrong.

"Now that wasn't so bad was it?" he winks, completely self assured within himself.

My hand connects with his face - hard, and I slap the smug look off his face.

"How fucking dare you?" I accuse. "Get out! Get out now!"

He walks away, and I'm left panting, and in a state of emotional distress. A twinge of guilt goes through me as I look over to the spot in the pool where Harry and I had kissed only days before. I bring my hands to my lips and touch over them lightly. I am hurt and angry... and confused.