A/N: Italics in the first part of this chapter are Cherry's thoughts/flashbacks of the night before.
We walk down the stairs leading to the pier, my sundress flapping in the breeze creating a pleasant chill on my arms. The energy in the air feels optimistic, hopeful, and I'm glad to see that Sally has finally gotten that mischievous sparkle back in her eye again. I know that with the amount of drama she has been dealing with lately, it is exceptionally hard for her to find the strength to smile.
"I still can't believe that I've been wanting to be invited to a thing like this forever, and I when I finally do, it's because some asshole got into my pants."
You can literally feel the sarcasm dripping from every syllable, but at least it means she's slowly coming to terms with what happened to her. The dark humour means progress, especially compared to the buckets of tears she'd shed throughout the last week. I'm glad she's able to make light of the situation, as I'm not the best when it comes to comforting others. I'd much rather joke about it than try to convince her that everything will be okay.
"Don't worry, she likes you. Wouldn't have offered to help if she didn't," I reassure her.
"Yeah, weirdly enough, I don't even care what she thinks of me anymore," she admits, surprising me. "I mean, sure, who wouldn't love to be friends with Kendall Jenner? But… not when you're trying to get close to her for all the wrong reasons. I'm not a gold digger."
"No one says you are, you little leech." My forehead drops to her shoulder as I give her a fleeting, yet bone-crushing hug.
Could Kendall be considered a friend of Sally's though, just because she helped her this one time? Is it friendship when two people aren't really that close, yet come through when one needs the other? Most importantly… Can you really be friends with someone you know barely anything about?
"Truth is, you've been on my mind lately, and I really wanted to show you how much I appreciate you. It's what this flower stands for: friendship."
Sally throws her arm around my neck and intertwines our fingers at my shoulder, leading me forward to where one luxurious yacht stands out from the long line of boats docked in the pier. My eyes dart up and down the empty area as we both quietly consider how to board the yacht.
"Are we supposed to call her so she lets us in?" Sal asks unsurely, but then her body jerks harshly in shock when a shrill voice screeches my first name.
"Hiiiiiiii! Come on up, we're just about to have lunch!"
Kendall is leaning over the board with her right arm waving enthusiastically in the air.
"What the fuck, girl? Are you trying to give us a heart attack?" Sally groans loudly to the giggling girl above us.
I stumble towards the boarding ladder she let down for us, climbing up in a fit of laughter. Halfway up, I turn around to check on Sal, who's still lingering at the foot of the yacht with an obvious look of nervousness painted across her face.
Oh right. I forgot she's terrified of heights, ladders, and basically anything that requires having your feet off the ground for longer than five seconds.
Sally squints and raises her hand up to her brow to shield her eyes from the sun. "Uh, is there any other way of getting up there?" she calls out.
Last time she had tried to board a boat, during our trip to the Bahamas on my mum's yacht three years ago, I spent a good thirty minutes trying to coax her to move even an inch. Let's see if we can beat that record today.
"It's just a few steps, you can do it!" I encourage her, trying not to let it show how amusing the entire situation is to me.
"All it takes is two steps forward, and you would be at my front gate. I can meet you there."
"She's afraid of heights," I whisper to the baffled Kendall.
"Oh," she hums knowingly. "But that's not high at all?"
"Yeah, she takes her fears to a whole new level," I chuckle, but the sound quickly dies in my throat when I see Sally climbing up the ladder, her movements surprisingly steady even if it's easy to spot the tremor in her legs.
"You were right! All it took was a couple of steps, I don't know what I was so afraid of," she laughs with a little mock curtsy.
I shake my head in pure astonishment. It looks like she'd rather die from falling than embarrass herself in front of Kendall. Talk about priorities.
"Look at you! So brave," Kendall coos as soon as Sally steps up to us, and the two of them share a friendly hug. "This deserves a celebratory drink."
I snap my fingers, then throw my arms up in the air in a dramatic gesture. "You read my mind. Tequila, my dear friend, I'm here!"
"It's barely past noon," Sally says with a playful roll of her eyes.
"Exactly!" I chirp, trudging up the stairs leading to the upper deck. "Past noon is fine. Otherwise it's inappropriate unless you're curing a hangover!"
Sally just sighs, "For fuck's sake."
Kendall slides in-between me and Sal, looping her arms around both of our elbows.
"Everyone's up sunbathing on the deck, so feel free to use any of the cabins if you want to change into your swimsuits. And you can grab a drink from the bar on your way up," she grins knowingly at me. "No one's getting out of here until tomorrow morning. You're stuck with me."
"Ohh, sounds scary," Sally laughs.
"There's some people who are very eager to meet you," Kendall addresses her, before turning to me. "And you… Let's just say I made a mistake of mentioning you've been invited, so you might be forced to re-enact some of Pixie's famous lines today."
"Oh lord," I sigh.
The role of Pixie is one of my latest ones, originating from a show I had done right before dropping acting at the age of seventeen. The character has become somewhat iconic due to her 'I give zero fucks' attitude, and is still very popular years later, especially in our age group. While this particular role is definitely something I regard as much less cringe-worthy than some of the other stuff I did, I'm also sick of being asked to repeat the same catchphrases over and over again.
I'm definitely going to need booze to survive today.
"Where did you say the bar is again?" I ask dejectedly.
"Right over there," Kendall points her finger to the nearest door. I walk slowly, my eyes lowered to the floor, like a woman sentenced to her death.
So much for having fun… I should have known this night was going to turn into another spectacle.
"Just who are you, exactly?"
"I'm just Cherry."
But I'll never be just Cherry, will I? To them, it's always going to be Pixie, a sassy ginger twin, or a cute dimpled girl from Brad Pitt's movie. I am the girl whose first name is so forgettable that it's way easier to simply call me Peter Doherty's daughter.
I approach the bar on shaky footing, careful not to catch the eye of anyone else in the room. The space isn't that busy, but there's a couple of groups lingering around: a blonde singer I vaguely recognize talking to several tall models, a popular show host having a bluish drink, or a lone guy at the end of the bar wearing a colourful checkered shirt. Looks like Kendall has a wide variety of connections in all kinds of places.
"So, what do you say?"
My stomach swims with unease when I spot a couple of faces turning my way. I'm not blending in with the crowd, I realise, not with my bikini still hidden underneath my dress. Quickly, I strip out of the unnecessary fabric, chucking it into my bag.
Whew. Now it's time for the tranquiliser.
I sit down on a bar stool, gesturing to the bartender to bring me a shot of the best tequila they've got. My eyes observe as he pours the drink into a glass, the liquid sloshing inside. It's hypnotising, but does nothing to clear my mind, which is still reeling from last night and my almost-meeting with H.
"Hold up, Cherry! Your hand is trembling like a leaf. Why are you so nervous? I don't want you to be scared of meeting me. I want you to be sure."
H is the first person to ever show so much consideration for my feelings. No one has ever asked me whether I agreed, simply choosing to force their ways onto me. My life has been defined by a series of choices, none of them my own.
Not this man, though. Somehow, he was able to put aside his own desire to meet me even when we were literally inches away from each other.
"But I-I want to do this."
"No, you don't. I've had weeks to process how much I want to be around you. Hell, I even had time to write a song about it, and yet I expect you to make the same decision based on a whim… It's not right. Meeting adjourned…but only until tomorrow."
"A refill?" the bartender asks.
"Please."
That uncomfortable sensation of someone watching me is back, and this time I realise the culprit is the guy in the bright checkered shirt sitting on the other end of the bar. I can feel his gaze on me as I swallow down my shot, but it doesn't feel sleazy like it sometimes does when a man checks out a woman, but rather appreciative. Especially since his eyes seem to be permanently rooted to the red hair flowing down my back, instead of the stretch of bare skin I have on display.
I smirk to myself. In my experience, men seem to either despise redheads, or have a massive thing for them. There's rarely ever a middle ground. Looks like this man belongs to the second category.
Every time I glance in his direction, he's still stuck on the exact same spot near my shoulder, as if my ginger curls were the most fascinating thing he's ever seen. I let my own eyes travel down his body, past the unbuttoned shirt with a layer of ink peeking through, all the way to the pair of flashy yellow swimming trunks.
I must say I kinda dig this guy's dorky style. I doubt there's many people able to pull off wearing a shirt with a hamburger print on it, let alone one as 'loud' as this one.
"Does this mean we're meeting here tomorrow?"
"Yeah, an hour later than usual though. I'm going out."
"Me too, actually."
"How convenient! Do not get drunk though, I want you sober enough so that I can hug the fuck out of you."
My skin heats up at the mere thought of H and I being close, without any barrier separating us. A dreamy sigh leaves my parted lips as I wonder: is he a tall guy whose embrace will swallow me whole? Does he have long hair, long enough to graze the tops of his shoulders, or a short buzz cut that will feel rough under my fingertips?
I rest my chin on top of my intertwined hands with a sigh, lost in my H-fueled daydream. My gaze finds the man in the quirky shirt again, and I watch as he unfolds a napkin and pulls a pen from his back pocket, his tongue peeking out in concentration as he scribbles something down on the tiny slip of paper. The moment I see a stray curl fall into his eye, it clicks.
It's the boyband guy.
"Also, wear a bikini. You absolutely must wear a bikini to our first meeting."
"Dream on, you weirdo."
I check in on the man a couple of times, finding his gaze appraising the people around the room with mild curiosity. When I begin to miss the feeling of his eyes on me, I know I'm hooked. Not just because Harry Styles is arguably one of the finest guys I've ever seen, but he just seems… bored. And lonely.
I wasn't planning on chatting anyone up tonight, but he looks like he could use some company. He gives me… 'me' vibes, as weird as that sounds.
Closing my eyes, I breathe in deeply as my thoughts run to H again. I even contemplate texting him something witty about long-haired pop stars—a topic we had once discussed—but I'm once again distracted by a tingly feeling spreading all over my skin. When I look up, I realise Styles is staring at me again, only this time his eyes are unabashedly focused on my bikini-clad cleavage.
Making sure to stay in his line of vision, I slowly twist my body to the side so that my chest is now perfectly in his eyeshot. It's hilarious how fast his head snaps up, eyes widening just a fraction when he realises he had been spotted shamelessly ogling my tits. At least he has the audacity to look embarrassed for being caught red-handed—that's got to count for something.
I quirk my eyebrow, making sure to keep my expression neutral as I regard him with a steady gaze. Instead of skittering off like most men in his position would do, he sends me a sheepish half-smile, a single dimple popping out.
Oh dear. He's good.
My own expression soon softens into a tiny grin, because that guy is just too adorably awkward not to smile at. Driven by my encouraging reaction, he points a single finger at the mop of curly hair on his head, cheekily mouthing, 'I love your hair'.
I tilt my head to the side, using the same finger to point at my chest with a coy smile. 'This hair?' I mouth back.
He laughs and quickly draws a hand down his face in an attempt to wipe the enormous smile off his face, his eyes crinkling mischievously.
A young couple chooses this moment to approach the bar, effectively blocking my view and ending the somewhat flirty exchange. Not even a minute later, my phone buzzes in my pocket and I pull it out to reveal a single message.
H: You wouldn't believe who I've just seen
Me: You wouldn't either
When I look up next, the young man is already grabbing their drinks from the counter and leading his partner away from the bar. With them gone, I am once again blessed with the delicious view of Harry Styles' side profile and his perfectly sculpted jawline. There's a tiny smirk on his face now, his attention focused solely on the phone in his hand. I even contemplate dragging my ass over there, my mind already coming up with various conversation starters, ranging from a coy 'It's a bit rude to stare like that' to a more explicit option of 'Please just throw me down and have your way with me in the restrooms'.
Granted, the latter is probably not the smartest idea considering I'm planning to meet up with H later tonight. I should probably steer clear from any possible hook-ups if I want to make it there on time.
Still… Damn, this guy's hot and I'm really tempted to check just how much he really loves redheads.
"Babe!" A familiar tiny frame attacks me from behind, startling me out of my daydream. "It's officially happening!"
"What is?" I ask as Sal takes a seat next to me, her face a picture of excitement.
"They agreed," she lets out a squeal, attracting a few curious looks from the people around us. "They're going to testify!"
"No way, just like that?" I sneak a quick glance at my watch; looks like it took her no longer than an hour to convince those girls to work with us.
"Well… I sort of sobbed my way through the entire conversation, and we may also be lowkey planning to assassinate the bastard, but yeah… They said yes," she bites her lip, looking a bit embarrassed as she continues, "I did mention your dad's involvement though…"
"It's fine, Sal," I interrupt her with a reassuring smile. "As long as they agree to help, I'm fine with whatever."
"Thank you," she smiles tearfully and buries her face in my neck. "None of this would have been possible without you."
My heart feels a little heavy, but I do manage a half-smile in return. Guess I'm not always a self-centred bitch.
"What have you been up to anyway?" she eyes the empty shot glass in front of me, though her gaze holds more concern than judgement. "Are you—"
"Just two, and I'm done for tonight," I then lean closer to her ear, whispering, "By the way, a certain member of your favourite boyband is here."
I playfully cover my ears when she lets out yet another high-pitched squeal. "Niall?!"
"No, not the Irish guy. Harry."
"Oh, yeah. He and Kendall are close, I've seen him around," she visibly deflates at the news of her favourite not being present at the party. "Also… Can't believe you actually remember his name."
I shrug my shoulders. Somehow, the name has popped up several times during my conversations with H, Asa, or Sal, so now it is embedded deeply in my brain.
"Pool time?" I propose.
Sally doesn't mind my subject change and the corners of her mouth perk into a smile. "Yes!"
We race each other up the stairs towards the lounging deck, where a medium-sized pool is already occupied by several laughing people. My hand drifts to clutch hers as we both jump into the water. It's cold, but not freezing enough to cause discomfort.
An hour later, we're both sitting on the loungers, basking in the afternoon sun. My fingers are running through my wet hair, shaking them out a bit so I look less like a drenched dog and more like a human being, when I suddenly hear Sally's giggly voice.
"Mr Dimples McCharming checking you out, six o'clock."
I send a subtle glance over there, only to find the same pair of green irises that had been studying me earlier at the bar. My eyes flit back and forth between his face and now-exposed, admittedly sexy chest, before I raise a single eyebrow in question. He simply shrugs his shoulders with a cheeky grin, almost as if saying 'I can't help it.'
Keeping my eyes clearly on his, I teasingly reach up to cup my breasts and squeeze firmly to remove excess water from my bikini. My mouth widens into a grin when he does a double-take, clearly thrown off by my boldness. I guess Harry Styles is not used to being challenged. If he thinks he can render me bashful with just one look from those dreamy eyes, he's got me all wrong. I make men nervous, not the other way around.
I teasingly roll over onto my stomach so he can gawk at my ass for a change.
"You're positively filthy," Sally comments from my right, having witnessed the entire exchange. "Dude's sweating over there."
"Let him look," I chuckle just when my phone lights up with a text.
H: I think I may have caught a disease
Me: Huh?
H: It's called an Acute Redhead Addiction, also known as ARA. Symptoms may include accidental sexual attraction to fit gingers and a lingering case of blue balls
Me: Aren't you supposed to be at a party? Do party things
H: I am, if you must know. I'm being a typical alpha male, checking out women and drinking beer
Me: Wow, you're such a man
H: I beg your pardon? I'm very manly!
Me: Okay, daddy
H: Keep going
I roll my eyes just as Kendall appears in front of us, blocking the sunlight from my skin.
"Girls, want to join us for dinner inside?" she offers with a kind smile, and Sal's reaction is immediate as she springs up to her feet.
"Sure!" She widens her eyes at me from behind Kendall's shoulder, mouthing, 'Come on!'
Even though I'm hardly hungry, I throw my sundress on and follow the two chattering girls into what looks like a dining or living area. This yacht is massive, so I wouldn't be surprised if they had a separate room just for hosting banquets alone.
We find an empty spot at the end of a long table, with Kendall sitting down between one of her sisters and one noticeably empty seat. The girls around me quickly indulge themselves in gossip about some model business that I'm not even slightly familiar with, so I occupy my time by checking my phone for any new texts from H, but there are none.
Eventually, the waiters appear with our starters and soon everyone's digging in eagerly just as loud music starts playing outside. It's about time too, because the sun has already begun to set which means we're entering the real party stage.
"Harry! Come over here, I saved you a seat!"
Kendall's voice breaks through the loud conversations as she raises her arm to wave at someone behind my back. I don't bother checking who it is, instead continuing to mindlessly stare at the half-eaten food on my plate. When I look up next, Harry Styles is hovering over his seat with an easy smile on his face.
My mind stubbornly runs back to all the sexy back and forth between us today. As his eyes take in the people at the table and eventually land on me, I can tell he's thinking the same, just by the playful crinkle in his eyes alone.
He peels his gaze away from my face, grabbing the back of his chair and pulling it back as he speaks for the first time, "Hi, I'm Harry."
There's a hum of various voices introducing themselves back to him, but I can barely keep my eyes from popping out of my sockets, let alone find the strength to use my voice.
Either my mind is playing tricks on me, or Harry Styles sounds exactly like H. My H.
"Did you get lost with Mitchell again?" Kendall laughs, pushing a bowl of green beans into his arms.
"Y'know him, he's hiding below deck again," he shakes his head. "Too many people is a no-no for him."
Mitch… Like the guitarist from his backyard the night before.
No. No fucking way.
"You okay?" Sally leans closer to me, noticing my ashen expression.
"Mhm," I look down and shove a forkful of pasta into my mouth, chewing slowly.
What sort of fuckery is this? In which messed up universe is H sitting across from me, munching on his damn veggies without a care in the world, at the same party I'm at? Also, he's…
A bite of food lodges itself in my throat, and I cough loudly which earns me a couple of curious looks from the people around me.
… H and Harry Styles are the same bloody person.
"Have some water," Sal offers, and I take the glass gratefully from her hand, swallowing the entire contents in one take.
This can't be happening. Maybe it's his identical twin? They say everyone has one somewhere in the world since there's only as many genetic combinations there can be, right?
Yep, that's definitely it. It would make way more sense than fate throwing us into the exact same place, right before we're about to finally meet, too.
Oh, who am I kidding? We live in the same city, we both run around in the same circles—it's not that much of a far-fetched idea that we'd bump into each other eventually.
Asa's reaction back when I mentioned Harry Styles replays in my mind, and I grit my teeth. I'm going to kill that cheeky bastard for not telling me. Even though I did bring this upon myself… After all, I'm the one who asked him not to tell me what he'd found out about the mysterious man from behind the fence.
I sweep my hair back from my cheeks with a trembling hand. When my eyes flicker up briefly, I find him already staring at me with an unwavering, intense gaze. My entire body heats up as I fight to look anywhere, literally anywhere but his face.
It's only a matter of time before he tries to chat me up with all the flirting and lustful eyeing from afar we were up to today. I am also aware that I'm so not ready for this: I can't possibly reveal who I am to him with all these people around witnessing our interaction.
I abruptly turn to Sally, her confusion visibly increasing at my odd behaviour. "Bathroom. Be back soon," I whisper, springing up from my seat.
Inevitably, the only guest restroom available has a long line of people waiting in front of it, but I welcome the temporary distraction. It's safe to say that I need a moment to compose myself and figure out how to approach H- I mean Harry, privately.
It's so weird to refer to him by his full name now.
I pull out my phone, scrolling through the messages from H. My cheeks turn a tint of red when I realise that the hot redhead he had been texting me about all day is, in fact, me.
'You wouldn't believe who I've just seen'... He recognised me for the child movie star that I unfortunately am.
I nearly jump out of my skin when another text pops up at the very end of our message thread.
H: I'm in a dire need of a decent pick-up line. Quickly!
My head snaps back up faster than a fucking boomerang. I nearly lose my shit right here and then when I see H descend the stairs and casually stroll over to stand at the end of the line, which is—you guessed it—right behind me. He's still holding his phone in his hand, and as I take a quick peek, I realise with horror that he's typing out another text to someone named 'Cherry'. As in me. I'm Cherry. Fuck.
I barely have the time to hit the mute button before his text appears on my screen, and I make sure to keep my phone out of his line of vision as I read it.
H: Make it good, please, or else she'll bite my bloody head off. This one's trouble, I can feel it
I can't help but smirk slightly despite the bizarre circumstances, quickly chucking my phone into my bag right after. Sorry H, not getting a response to this one.
With my back pressed against the wall, I tap my right foot incessantly against the floor when the line continues to move forward very slowly.
Can't they just pee faster, for fuck's sake?
A girl in front of me bites her lip, eyeing H appreciatively with a hopeful look in her eye. Instead of giving her the time of day, he inches closer to me, raising his left elbow to brace it against the wall next to my head. His mouth parts slightly as if to say something, but he promptly snaps it shut, drawing a nervous hand through his unruly curls with a pout. He then awkwardly adjusts his position to mirror my own.
I press the back of my hand against my mouth in an attempt to hide my smile. This is golden, pun intended. I'm pretty sure I'm going to need physical restraint to stop myself from laughing at this adorable dork.
The girl before us huffs at being dismissed so easily, disappearing behind the bathroom door. I'm next…
My attempts to ignore the man next to me seem to be going smoothly until I foolishly decide to glance back at the long line that has now formed behind us, and H uses that opportunity to catch my gaze. His eyes burn into mine with an intensity that I can no longer ignore, not without appearing rude.
"Y'know…" he pauses, seeming more confident now that I'm actively trying to avoid him. He probably thinks he's finally succeeded in making me nervous, that cheeky bugger. "I once read that gingers make up only about two percent of the human population."
I bite my lip, trying to keep a straight face despite the fact that I'm internally in hysterics because he had used the exact same line on me all those weeks ago.
"You're part of a dying breed!" he finishes with a large dimpled grin as I slap both of my hands over my mouth, stifling a laugh. "I just mean that you should be protected at all costs—"
The bathroom door cracking open stops him mid-sentence, the salty brunette from earlier trudging past us without a word. I let out an audible puff of breath.
Pointing my finger at the bathroom, I wiggle my eyebrows playfully at H and quickly make myself scarce.
Saved by the toilet.
__________
I spend the following hours trying to be subtle as I observe H from across the room, still reeling from the discovery of his true identity. It's ironic how, up until this day, I've barely even cared about who Harry Styles is. Now that I know he and H are one and the same, I'm suddenly crippled with anxiety.
And it's not even his level of fame that bothers me. After all, I've met countless famous people in my lifetime, even slept with some of them. Hell, my own parents are arguably 'bigger' than he is.
It's the thought of this man I'm physically attracted to and my fence friend being the same person that puts me on edge. Knowing that he prefers to read poetry at night with me than hang out at parties like these… or the fact that I actually like being around him.
Now that's scary.
I shake my head to try and clear my thoughts, looking up just in time to see the object of my torment pass by. It seems as though the seas of people part to let him through, and he's attracting a lot of attention for someone who's not actively seeking it. My heart is pounding loudly as I once again wonder how to catch him alone, but it seems like there's a string of men and women following him everywhere he goes.
Suddenly, someone taps my shoulder from behind, and once I turn around there's one red-cheeked blonde throwing her arms around my neck. "There you are! I've lost you, where the hell have you been for the last three hours?"
"Just here and there." I down another shot in an attempt to ease my nerves.
"Oh my god," Sally grasps my face between her hands and looks me dead in the eye. "You did it, didn't you?"
"What?" I ask dumbly.
"Harry! You did Harry Styles."
I duck and slide out of her tight embrace. "Are you mental? I did not! And don't go repeating this shit either!"
"What are you being all snippy for? You two have been eye-fucking each other all day, and you don't usually waste time, so of course I thought—"
"Well, you thought wrong!" I get defensive.
"Hey, what is going on with you?" she asks gently. "I didn't mean anything bad by it—"
I sigh. "I know, I'm sorry. Truth is, I'm just…" anxious, confused, but also weirdly excited. "I just had too much tequila."
"Well, I'm cutting you off!" Just to emphasise her point, she snatches the remaining shot from the counter and swallows it down, then grabs my hand to drag me towards the centre of the room. "Let's dance!"
"I don't wanna…" I protest weakly.
"Oh, you do. Unless you prefer to go look for Harry Styles? Kendall said he's been asking about you… Wanted to hear all about how she knows you."
Oh my god.
"Okay, let's dance," I consent. Better this than having her drag me to Har- I mean H. Whatever.
She tosses her head back in laughter and leads us forward to join a large group of dancing girls. It's not long until she has me all loose and twirling on the dance floor like there's no tomorrow. Sally is one of those people whose enthusiasm spreads onto you like a wildfire. Before you know it, you're suddenly pulling off moves you didn't even know you were capable of, no liquid courage required.
More people start to gather around our group as some popular Latino song begins to blast through the speakers, one of these faces being Kendall and another girl I hardly recognise. We mess around a bit, grinding against each other playfully before Kendall's friend erupts in a fit of giggles.
"Here he comes!"
I look over my shoulder just in time to see H approaching, or rather gliding over in a very poor attempt to imitate the moonwalk dance, which absolutely does not fit the rhythm or tempo of the music at all.
Oh hell no. Abort.
I turn to flee the scene only to end up bumping into Sal, who skillfully blocks my escape to then push me back into Kendall's awaiting arms. The model wraps herself around me, leaning close enough to be heard.
"He's a horrid dancer, but don't run away. If you turn him down now, he'll be moping around for days, wondering what he's done wrong or why you didn't want to dance with him. He's like a puppy, this one."
She twirls me around to face the rest of the group, my eyes instantly falling on H who's now being flocked by eager girls trying to gain his attention. He entertains each of them briefly by catching their hands and shaking them around a little, and I inwardly roll my eyes when they all squeal excitedly despite the fact that his dance moves make absolutely no sense.
Opting to pretend like he's not even here, I throw my own hands up and slowly roll my hips to the sensual beat. It's hard to concentrate though, not when I feel his eyes burning into me with unhidden admiration. When he starts shimmying towards me again, his hips swaying side to side with his arms moving in a hilarious wave-like motion, I sneakily grab the nearest girl I can find and direct her right into his oncoming embrace.
I smile innocently as he flashes me a nasty, yet playful look over the blonde's shoulder. His eyes do nothing to hide his amusement though, and it's quite obvious that he's finding my refusal of his advances mighty entertaining. He's also not giving up anytime soon, that much is certain.
"What the hell, A? Just dance with the mancandy, or I'm calling dibs!" Sally yells teasingly over the music. It's an empty threat though, since we both know she'd never snatch a guy I may be possibly interested in.
However, the next time he attacks me I don't even get the chance to escape, because apparently H has switched tactics, choosing to approach me from behind when I'm the least suspecting. His fingers brush down my biceps and forearms until they stop at my hands, which he then grabs firmly and twirls me around to face him.
"Gotcha, pretty!" he laughs merrily like a kid who got an early Christmas gift, a dimple popping out as he propels me forward until I crash against his chest.
All at once, he's so close that my nose is brushing against his neck with each step we make. For a moment I struggle to shimmy out of his grip, but soon give up since he's clearly got other plans, guiding me into some odd mixture of salsa and waltz in one. Our strange dance keeps disrupting the people around us, and he nearly makes me lose my footing when he dips me back low enough so that my hair brushes against the floor.
Our movements are awkward, but also strangely... intimate.
Eventually I stop resisting him, and my head drops back as he smoothly rolls our hips together. The innocent placement of his hands becomes more suggestive when they begin to wander the length of my back, stopping just short of my ass. However, the song abruptly comes to an end before this can progress any further, and the sudden lack of music indicates a break from the dancing.
H pulls back just a fraction, his eyes flickering to the watch on his wrist before they focus on me again. "It's been lovely to meet you."
Why he thinks that after I've spoken exactly zero words to him the entire day is beyond me.
He pinches my hip gently before leaning closer to my ear, "Please don't ignore me when I slide into your DM's begging for your number tomorrow."
He delivers one last cheeky grin before weaving through the sweaty bodies, soon disappearing in the thick of the crowd. I'm left not only utterly baffled and admittedly slightly turned on, but also with no chance to drag him to the side and finally introduce myself properly.
However, it's when I too glance at the time when I realise the reason behind his abrupt departure: the meeting. With Cherry. Me. In exactly forty-five minutes.
I curse under my breath and rush to elbow my way out of the crowd, ignoring the knowing looks from Sally and Kendall who probably think we're running off for a hook-up. I have no time to rectify their very incorrect assumptions, simply grabbing my bag and walking off.
__________
Ahh you didn't think it was going to be that easy, did you? Things are just beginning to heat up... How do you think Harry will find out who she is? Will she reveal it to him or...? What's going to happen now?
Also, I abosolutely loved some of the theories you guys had for their first meeting! I was so tempted to change my plans, but I have this entire book outlined already and straying from my plan now would totally mess up everything.
Xx Cathy
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