Playboy » L.S

Chapter 24

Louis' pov.

From Harry: How's your butt? x

To Harry: I swear to god, quit it.

From Harry: I'm trying to be a considerate boyfriend, you asshole. Answer the question.

To Harry: You're quite demanding over text. 

From Harry: Don't make me ask a third time, Lou.

To Harry: My butt is sore. Leave me alone now.

From Harry: I would say I'm sorry, buttt.. Haha! Butt! Get it?

To Harry: Goodbye.

"Lou!" Damien's voice makes me jump, my phone falling to my lap. I had zoned out from what he was talking about, Harry's texting constantly distracting me.

"Who are you even talking to?" He doesn't give me time to answer - or react, for that matter, before he reaches forward and snatches my phone out of my lap. "Hmm, let's see what is more important than talking to your best friend."

Oh, shit. "No, no, no! Dame - stop! Give me my phone!" I attempt to reach for it, but like the asshole he is, he raises it higher. I watch in horror as he taps the screen a couple of times with his index finger. 

"Harry? Really, Louis!?" Damien nearly yells, and I don't know if he's mad or not. We haven't really discussed what happened last night after he took Zach to the hospital, and I'm guessing he thinks I should be pissed at Harry.

" 'How's your butt'?" Damien's jaw drops and I give up. I slump back into my seat and put my head in my hands, waiting for the lecture I'm about to receive. " 'Boyfriend'? 'Sore'? Oh my god, Louis!"

Here it comes.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me!" And he's yelling. "I'm so damn confused, Louis William Tomlinson, and I want you to clear this shit up for me."

"Have a seat and we'll discuss," I answer flatly, leaning forward to rest my elbow against my knee, my chin being cradled in my palm.

Thankfully he listens to me, plopping down in the sofa next to me. He's still staring at my phone, rereading the texts that Harry and I had sent back and forth. He's acting like the words are going to change and form into something spectacular and it's annoying me, so I snatch my phone out of his hands and shove it into my pocket.

"It's taking everything in me not to scream at the top of my lungs right now," Damien groans, running a hand down his face. "Calm, Damien. Stay calm."

He's talking to himself?

"First off.. What the fucking fuck, Louis? I thought you hated Harry because he had a girlfriend?"

"Oh, about that," I chuckle nervously, "Really funny story. You see, I thought Harry was banging the girl he lives with, but it turns out it's his sister!"

"He's banging his sister!?" Damien practically screeches.

"No! Oh god, no! They aren't banging! He just lives with her!" This is going horribly wrong already.

"Okay," He draws out, "Well you're an asshole for running out on him, then."

"I'm fully aware of that, thank you, Damien," I roll my eyes and lean back in my chair, pushing my hair out of my eyes. 

"But I thought you were pissed at him for breaking Zach's nose and popping his arm out of it's socket?" He asks. After taking Zach to the hospital last night and getting a few X-Rays done, they had found out that Harry only broke Zach's nose and thankfully not his arm. Damien had covered for Harry, telling the hospital employees that Zach only fell out of a tree. Why Zach would be climbing a tree at nearly midnight was the obvious question, but the employees didn't seem to actually care enough to point out the lie. Zach had alcohol in his system, so that helped a lot with it. I want to think that Damien lied for Harry because I obviously have feelings for him, but I know he only did it to keep a clean record for his club and the dancers.