Here ya goooo, this is a (kinda) long update. Please let me know what you think. Comments motivate me to update moreeee :)
We both got into his range rover, him driving and me in the passenger seat. The first few minutes were silent as we drove down the road before Harry reached forward and turned the radio on. Royals started blaring from the speakers and I groaned, causing him to turn over and look at me.
"What? You don't like Lorde?" He asked me and I immediately shook my head no.
"I mean, I'm sure she's a nice girl, but have you seen her perform live? She's creepy!" I shuddered and he just laughed.
"She's not that bad," he defended her and I snorted.
"So, you mean to tell you me you like Lorde?" I asked him while raising my eyebrows at him.
He shrugged and replied, "I'm not saying I don't like her, this song's catchy," followed by turning the music up. I just rolled my eyes and looked out the window until the song was finally over.
I grinned happily when a song by the Script came on, turning up the radio as loud as it could go. I started lowly singing along while nodding my head and tapping my fingers to the beat.
Suddenly the radio turned down and my cheeks burned with embarrassment knowing that he heard me singing a little bit. "You like the Script?" He asked me with a smile.
"Yes! I love them," I exclaimed, "Scottie and I went to their show last year and had front row and Danny practically serenaded me during The Man Who Can't Be Moved. Scottie got it on video too, it was the best night ever."
"Hey, Manchester, right?" He asked me and I nodded in response. "I was there too! My friends and I all went for Louis, you know him right? It was his early birthday present," he finished.
I smiled, "That was such a fun night. Where were your seats?" I asked him, wondering if we were close to each other. It's weird to think that we were at the same concert even though we didn't know each other back then.
"Not front row, Mrs. Rich Pants," to which I scoffed, "But they were decent. Like, 20th row, maybe?" He told me with this cute facial expression where he scrunched his eyebrows together and squinted his eyes.
"That's so crazy," I said, we were 20 rows away from each other last year at about this time. It's weird to think about.
"I wonder if I saw you there," he mused, "Like passed you, or something."
"You were probably too busy flirting with every girl in a 2 mile radius," I laughed.
"Hey! I don't even flirt with girls that much, thank you," he pouted a little bit and the smile on my face grew.
"Really? So you don't drop your number on a napkin on girls' plates often?" I asked mockingly.
He grinned at me, showing me both rows of his teeth, "Nope, you're the only one. What'd you do with that anyways? I never got a text."
"Scottie took it," I giggled, "He hasn't texted you though? I thought he would have by now, that's a shame. You two would of really hit it off."
He rolled his eyes and shook his head, still smiling, "I must not be his type."
"Oh yes you are," I laughed, "Trust me you're exactly his type. Except, you aren't gay, though. So I guess that's pretty significant. But other than that, 100% his type," I confirmed.
"What if I am gay?" He questioned and I scoffed.
"Then what are we doing here?" I countered.
"Not going on a date, that's for sure," He smirked and turned toward me. I rolled my eyes and looked at him.