Playboy » L.S

Chapter 18

Louis' pov.

Harry didn't open my car door like you see in the movies or read in books, but no one had ever opened my door for me, so I didn't expect anything different. He simply just rounded the car and got in the driver's side, leaving me to open my own damn door.

When we began driving, I realized that I had absolutely no idea where we're going. When I asked him on the date, I thought we'd go to a little diner down the street or something - you know, something simple - but then Harry kind of took charge. He offered to pick me up, he offered to take me somewhere, so this turned out as Harry taking me on a date instead of the other way around.

The radio was quietly playing the songs of the local station's choice. He didn't play any CDs or hook up his phone to the AUX plug like I would have if we drove my car. He didn't even bother changing the channel once, even letting the commercials play. I don't even think he noticed anything but the road and occasionally me when he glanced in my direction out of the corner of his eye.

I didn't ask where we were going because I am a sucker for surprises. I love the feeling of joyful shock, I love the thought of someone planning something out for me without me knowing. The idea of Harry actually sitting down and thinking about where he'd take me for our first date is enough to make me swoon.

In all honesty, I really hope he isn't taking me to some fancy ass restaurant, because I actually hate them. I hate those overly elegant places where old people stare at you and judge you. Harry and I's tattoos wouldn't make it any better, and the fact that we're both gay and on a date wouldn't help us either.

Maybe he's taking me to a diner like I had thought? Or maybe even an ice cream shop or something? That's where you usually go on first dates, right?

Haha. Wrong.

Harry pulled into a parking lot, and when I looked up at the sign above the building, it said "Liquor Store" in white letters. As Harry parked in an empty spot, I couldn't help but feel extremely awkward and a bit disappointed.

"Don't look like that, Lou. You're judging," He states as he unbuckles his seat belt and turns to face me. "I have a lot in store for this date, please just follow along, okay?"

The pleading look in his eyes made me want to melt. Hell, I was already putty in his hands. "Alright, alright. But this better be worth it, Styles."

"Oh it will be," He grins and opens his car door, stepping out. I follow after him, stuffing my hand into the front pockets of my jeans as we enter the store.

I follow Harry through the aisles like a lost puppy. He occasionally would glance back at me when he thought I wasn't looking, but the second I made eye contact, he'd snap his gaze forward and act like he was looking at the alcohol along the shelves.

When we approached the counter, a man with black shoulder length hair was slumped against a stool, a car magazine in his hands. After a minute of him not acknowledging us, Harry huffs and clears his throat rudely.

The man's deep brown eyes shift up to us and he sighs heavily, setting the magazine down before standing and ringing up the two bottles of whiskey we had on the counter.

"Let me see your I.D," He says in a deep, scratchy voice that has experiences way too much cigarette smoke.

Harry's jaw clenches and he digs his wallet out of his back pocket. He hands the man his card, and after a minute of observation, the man hands it back.

"You're not twenty one, kid. You can't buy alcohol," He nearly laughs.

Woah, woah, woah. Harry is younger than me? Holy shit! This whole time I thought he was older, maybe twenty two or three years old.