𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋! | harry styles

𝐕𝐈𝐈𝐈

"You killed it!" he says, giving me a high five. "I swear, I thought this one guy was going to blow his load all over the place."

I laugh as he hands me the balled-up material of my top and a fistful of notes. I give him a few back for his cut, slipping an extra couple of bucks in there for retrieving my top. The clasp is an easy fix, especially since I don't have money to burn buying endless outfits.

James pulls the curtain aside a little and pops his head out before closing it again quickly. "Whoops, looks like the boss is in the house; I'd better get back to work." He holds a hand out and I take it, keeping my balance as I wrestle with my heel. "Make sure you give me some warning next time," he jokes. "Can't have you starting any riots up in here."

Smiling, I roll my eyes at his lame attempts at flattery. James is a total cheese ball but takes his work seriously. Heaven help the man who pushes his luck on his watch.

"I'll make sure to let you know."

"I don't pay you two to talk," snaps Nick as he strides past, the smell of his cologne wafting after him.

James and I scurry off in opposite directions, out of Nick's sight. I think briefly about turning and following him into his office to speak to him about leaving early, but when I hear something behind his door smash against the wall I think better of it. Instead, I creep past Katie and Tia and check my phone, making sure I haven't missed a phone call or a message.

I haven't.

The phone hits the bottom of my locker with a thump as I toss it back with more force than is really necessary. Now I can't decide if I'm nervous because Harry hasn't called me like he said he would, or if I'm nervous because I feel bad about leaving him alone with Cody.

I mean, I don't even know how old he is, or where he's from. Or if he really does fix cars. Something about the cuts and bruises on his face doesn't scream nine-to-five mechanic to me.

But he did offer to fix my truck, so what's to say he's not?

Hell, I don't even know if he has a girlfriend or not.

The thought makes my chest squeeze and my stomach ache, and I can't help but think about our little moment in the kitchen earlier. Was it all in my head? I'd been so sure that something had passed between us, but now, with some distance between us, I'm second-guessing it. Was I seeing something that wasn't there? He's never mentioned a girlfriend, but then it's not like Harry is a particularly chatty guy.

Oh, God. What if he does? Here I am having all sorts of… lusty… thoughts about a guy who has a girlfriend.

A girlfriend!

"Hey, handsome," I sing, winking as Mr. Married lets me slide onto his lap.

I try my best to get my head back into work but I can't stop imagining what she looks like. Is she pretty? Of course she is; someone as handsome as Harry wouldn't be wanting for pretty girls. Does she have tattoos like he does? I look down at my skin, where the only marks I can see are the faint white lines on the lower part of my stomach. Not really the kind of marks men look for on a woman.

"What does your daddy think of you doing this?" whispers Mr. Married, all the while staring down at my chest.

I smile, swaying my body to the music. "I don't have a daddy," I whisper back, leaving off the he's dead part.

"And what about your mom?" he presses, still looking at my chest. "What does she think of you being here?"

Clenching my teeth, I slide off his lap and pop my leg up beside him, smiling as he slips a note into my garter belt. "I don't know, honey," I say, leaning in a little closer. "How does your wife feel about you being here?"