Finley's POV
I didn't know what to do, or say, or how to react. It had been about a day since Harry had admitted, in a strange way nonetheless, that he liked me. I was in between wanting to simply combust from second-hand embarrassment while also not knowing how to contain myself after what he had said either. I was thankful that Oliver had brought me lunch yesterday after what had happened because I would have been on edge the rest of the day otherwise. But, as I continued to think about it, I felt like there was no way it would happen—there was not way Harry and I would ever be together. Even if he was really an attractive man, there was no way Harry actually wanted me. I just didn't believe it.
Harry had popped in today to meet with Mrs. Woods about something, and I had managed to make up an excuse as to why I couldn't sit in on the meeting with them. After all, why would I want to sit in the room with someone who not only claimed they liked me, but were most-likely lying about the whole thing to begin with? It was just not worth it. Thankfully, Mrs. Woods didn't appear that thrown off by the fact that I wanted to take my lunch break early, but I could see on Harry's face that he knew why I was leaving from the meeting.
"Amato."
My hand was on the door, and I was ready to leave. Everything in my body was absolutely squirming with what he could possibly say to me. I wasn't scared of him by any means, but I was worried about what he would say. He could be incredibly rude, or, he could surprise me and say something polite but I knew that was a stretch. What I did know for certain, though, was that I had no intentions of being in here with him any longer. Knowing that Mrs. Woods would be upset with me if I simply left without giving him a chance to speak, I found myself taking a deep breath before turning around, raising my eyebrows as I looked at him. Mrs. Woods was clearly out of the loop, still smiling as I gazed at the curly-haired model in front of me.
"Get me a iced caramel coffee with almond milk, would you?" he asked. "I should be here about an hour, so I expect it when you're on your way back from lunch."
"Yeah, sure, whatever," I told him, walking toward the door again only to be stopped by Mrs. Woods calling my name. "Yes?"
"That is not how you respond to our best model, Miss Amato. I know you're better than that."
"You're right. Maybe I should just quit then," I scoffed, not sure where the words were coming from, but extremely angry all of a sudden.
"Miss Amato, what's—"
"It's fine. I'm fine. If you'll excuse me, I'm heading to lunch, and I'll be back with his coffee when I'm finished."
Mrs. Woods had a look on her face that said she would be speaking with me later, Harry not appearing that surprised by my behavior. It wasn't like he looked hurt though, rather somewhat confused. I almost thought he looked as if he wanted to start something with me, but I thought that was silly. I mean, if he liked me so much, why would he want to upset me? Then again, he had claimed he liked me and been nothing but rude to me so it wouldn't be that surprising.
Heading out to lunch, I spent my time in a little restaurant down the street, not getting much other than soup to eat. Normally, I was hungrier by the time my break came around, however, I was pretty sure seeing Harry had curbed my appetite. The thoughts of him telling me he had been interested in me brought back a bunch of memories I certainly didn't want to recall. Not because I disliked them, rather I was embarrassed when I thought back on them.
Oliver: Hi pretty, what are u doing?
eating lunch, you?
Oliver: Oh same
ooooh, what's on the menu?
Oliver: I wish u were
OLIVER
Oliver: What? I'm just being honest
omg
i hate you
I could imagine him laughing. Of course, he had made sly remarks before, but never when we were texting. The words had made me blush, and I wondered if he knew exactly how I would have reacted to his message. Then again, I did find it funny, I was just surprised. Staring down at my soup, I heard my phone vibrate on the table. It was clear he had texted me back, my eyes focused on the lot up screen for a few moments before I moved to see the words he had said to me.
Oliver: U don't hate me.
you're right
Oliver: I would love if we could get to know one another a little better soon
I hadn't even kissed the guy that many times yet and he was talking about getting to know me better—which I totally knew meant more than just kissing. The thought was frightening to me, but I knew it was for a few reasons. To start, I hadn't been active sexually in about four years. Not to mention that Oliver was the first guy in those four years I was genuinely considering having something serious with. In the past, men would make it known that they wanted me for my body. While Oliver had made dirty jokes here and there, he had never pushed me to do anything I didn't want to.
we'll have to see about that one
Oliver: No rush, of course.
Oliver: I like u
Oliver: I just want to get to know u a little more
i know
i'll see
I was certain it probably wasn't what he truly wanted to hear. After all, he probably was interested in moving to the next level in our relationship. Of course, we weren't technically exclusive, but I was pretty sure I was the only person that he was seeing the same way he was the only person I was seeing. So, it wasn't like I had to worry about moving too slowly and him becoming uninterested in me. It had simply been so long since I was in something serious enough for it to move to something sexual, and I wasn't sure if I was ready for that now. At least, not yet.
Oliver: I know babes
Oliver: Will I see u soon?
of course (:
i have to head off and do some things for work though, break is over
Oliver: Okay, have a good rest of ur day, Fin
thank you, you toooooo <3
It didn't take long for me to clear my place before I headed to a coffee shop. The line, thankfully, was not terribly long the way I was used to. They asked if I wanted my usual, which was Mrs. Woods' order, but I explained what drink I needed made. Standing off to the side as it was prepared, I scrolled through social media for a few minutes before my name was called. Double-checking that the order was correct, I managed to make my way back to the building, smiling at Samuel before heading inside. It was close to one now, and I managed my way up the elevator to my boss' floor, knocking on the door before walking in.
"Here's your coffee," I told him. "Just how you wanted it."
He stood up, not taking it from me yet, but his attention staying on Mrs. Woods. She smiled at him, saying it was always a pleasure to speak with him. I wanted to leave this room, and not look at the man in front of me. All I could see when I looked at him was a man who had said he liked me. Yet, it made no sense that he liked me. Just the thought itself was beyond crazy, and I felt as if I was going to completely lose myself because he had not only been rude, but had probably lied about his feelings toward me anyway. I mean, what would a man of his stature want to do with someone not only low on the totem pole at Gucci, but also someone who was not nearly as pretty as all the models he had been with in the past?
"Thanks for the—"
Before he could finish his sentence and take the coffee, it was spilling all down the front of me, Harry not affected by the mess whatsoever. I scoffed as I stared at him, a part of me wanting to smack him for being this rude to me. It was one thing to claim he liked me, but for it to appear fake, I was incredibly hurt. I didn't have feelings for him, but I was definitely disappointed in what happened just now. Taking the cup out of his hand, I threw it on the ground, seconds away from having a complete outburst.
"You're the most disrespectful human I have ever met!" I nearly shouted. "What is wrong with you?"
"Neonata, you're absolutely soaked. Maybe you should wipe yourself up."
"Maybe you shouldn't be such a dick!"
He raised his eyebrows at me. "I don't believe you really want to say that, darling."
"At this point, I don't care, Harry. I really don't anymore. Get out of my boss' office. Go find something else to do."
"Miss Amato," my boss started. "I think you're forgetting who it is you're speaking to exactly."
"You know what? I'm just going to take the rest of the day off. I really can't do my work in this outfit, and I've had enough for today. I do apologize, Mrs. Woods. I'll have someone come and clean up this mess pronto."
"Miss Amato, you don't have to—"
"I'll call you later, if you'd like," I told her. "I am actually going to lose my mind if I spend another minute in here though."
She looked confused, but nodded, allowing me to leave. Unfortunately, Harry was hot on my tail, and I already felt shitty enough with the mess on my outfit, but now I had to ride down a lift with him. It was dreadful, to say the least, and I couldn't help but wish that hitting someone was an acceptable action. Instead it was frowned upon. This man was driving me crazy, in the worst way possible of course, and I knew it was because I didn't understand him at all. How could someone claim they liked me, and then be a complete asshole the next day? Sure, I had definitely rejected him, but I didn't believe that was a reason to be rude to me again.
"Mi fotterò mi con il pensiero della tua bocca intorno a me, neonata." (I'll fuck myself with the thought of your mouth around me, baby girl.)
"Stop talking to me."
"Neonata, it's alright. I'm not someone to be messed with, so the fact that you rejected me was something you definitely shouldn't have done."
Without thinking, I grabbed his shirt collar, green eyes staring down at me. A part of me could tell he was uncertain about the situation now. He was hesitating, trying to pull back some but my grip was tight. I knew that he was more than uncomfortable, and while I was usually never one for threats, he had pushed me over the edge this time. I was sick and tired of his behavior toward me, and I found myself saying the only thing I could really to someone like himself.
"Threaten me again, baby," I murmured to him softly. "Give me another ultimatum. I have three guy friends who will kick your ass in a heartbeat if I so much as say you're bothering me. They think you're alright, but the second I tell them you're not being kind to me they won't hesitate to find you, and that's a promise."
The elevator doors opened, and I let go of his shirt, walking out. My skirt was grey, so it was obvious that I had spilled something, but my top was black. Thankfully, I could hide the stain on my skirt with my purse, but it didn't stop how awkward I felt. Heading outside, I took in the fresh air, trying to focus on anything other than the dark-haired model.
Lucky for me, I didn't live all that far away. It was a nice day out, too, so I wasn't worried abou the weather the way I had been recently. After I took a deep breath, I began my trek home, nearly shouting when a hand grasped mine. My eyes widened almost immediately, and I found myself being tugged to the side of the building away from people. Before I could even get a word out, he was shifting one of his hands to my waist, pressing me up against the building.
"Don't threaten me," he sneered harshly, his eyes dark, and for once I saw the angry Harry that I thought I had been witnessing this entire time. "You have no clue who you're messing with. Not one clue, darling."
"Fire me. I don't care. You're just angry I don't like you," I told him softly, cupping his cheek with my free hand. "You know I bet I know what drives you crazy. You're probably so angry, knowing that you like me, but disliking that I won't succumb to your good looks, and intense character. I can tell you just hate the idea of not getting me on my knees in front of you, baby. It pisses you off, yet somehow, you're still hard with just me talking to you, huh?"
It was obvious. His hips were against mine, and I was certain I knew exactly what I was feeling against my lower stomach. My hand was still resting on his face, and it was obvious he was searching my eyes, trying to find some sort of fault. I knew there wouldn't be one. After all, I knew exactly how I felt about him. I didn't like this man. I couldn't.
"You don't know what you're missing," he told me.
"It can't be much. I mean, if it was something worthwhile, I think I would have left Oliver for you, no?"
I went to shift, but he was quick to hold onto my waist. We were close—much closer than I would have thought I would ever be with him. Of course, I didn't know what I was even allowing him to put his hands on me, but I decided that since I was touching his face, it would be hypocritical of me to say he couldn't touch me.
"Where are you going?"
"Why does it matter?" I questioned, pulling my hand away from him. "Maybe my place, maybe Oliver's. Who's to say?"
"You're saying shit to make me mad."
"You're mad?" I asked, knowing that I was irritating him. "I figured this was normal you."
"Per l'amor del cazzo, Amato." (For fucks sake.)
He was not pleased, to say the least. I smiled up at him, knowing that he was pissed off. It was exactly what I wanted considering he had pissed me off by spilling his coffee all over me. Finally shifting out of his grasp, I chuckled at the fact that I could see a bulge in his pants, green eyes glancing over me before he shoved his hands in his pockets.
"Why are you laughing?" he grumbled.
"Oh, nothing," I told him. "Ciao, Harry. Have fun chasing something you won't ever get."
It was clear I had shocked him pretty badly, but I didn't care. He got what he deserved. If he was going to make my life a living hell, then I was going to do the same back. Sure, he did have a lot of power in the company, but I had the slightest inclination that he wouldn't be firing me. Not if he thought he ever had a chance with me. However, I didn't think he would get a chance unless he changed his character toward me. Being kind only when I was drunk was not what I was looking for, and while I had no intentions of breaking anything off with Oliver, I thought that maybe the right timing could change things. Although, Harry had a lot to change if he thought he did have a chance at all with me.
"Lo prenderai da dietro un giorno, Amato, e griderai il mio nome. Ti piacerà. Avrai voglia di non essere stato così scortese, neonata." (You will take it from behind one day, Amato, and you will be shouting my name. You will like it. You will want to not have been so rude.)
It was very obvious I had irritated him, but I also had no idea what he was saying to me in Italian. Breathing deeply, I felt confident that he was both pissed and intrigued. Not that he needed to be, or that I wanted him to be, but by the bulge in his trousers, it was clear that there was a definite winner. Tucking my hair behind my ear, I headed back to my apartment, praying that time would go by smoothly when I saw Harry again, but something told me it might not work out that way.
✵✵✵
I wanted to go out, but the boys said they were all too tired when they got home from work. Oliver came over for a little bit to hang out, but it was before his shift, so he didn't get to stay that long. I thought it was sweet of him to stop by, the boys and I not managing to have a free day with all of us together until the weekend. Oliver came out with us also, and I was excited to hang out with all of them, my hand holding Oliver's tightly as we strolled behind the three boys.
"I'm so glad you're coming with us!" I told him happily.
"Me too, Finley. I get to spend more time with your adorable face."
Nodding, we all turned into a small little bar, getting a table in the back. Oliver let me cuddle into his side, Niall, Louis, and Liam saying they could get their own table if they really needed to do so. It just made Oliver and I laugh, the two of us assuring them it wasn't necessary. We all got a round of drinks, ordering some food before deciding that we wanted to play a round of pool. I was up for playing, but Oliver seemed more interested in watching. We flipped a coin to see who would be on my team after Liam and I became captains, Louis ending up on my team.
"Thank you God," I murmured.
"Hey!" Niall frowned. "That's not nice."
"Nothing against you, Louis is just better at pool. I still love you, buddy."
He looked like he wasn't as offended then, a grin on his face as he picked out a pool stick. Niall and Liam spoke to one another, Louis telling me what our game plan should be. He was always so good at pool for some reason, and I smiled when he went first, Niall shooting first for his team. When it was my turn, I made sure I knew what balls were ours, aiming for the striped one near a hole. Soon enough, I made it, aiming for another before missing the shot.
"Good job, Finley," Oliver cooed softly, wrapping his arm around my waist from behind me, his lips pressing to my temple. "You should let me spend the night."
"Do you want to?" I asked. "I wanted you to stay last weekend, but you didn't."
"I'll stay, sure," he agreed. "And I went home last weekend because you were wasted, and I didn't know how you felt about me staying over."
Nodding, I rested against him, only asking him to let go of me when it was my turn, and I wanted a sip of my drink. Louis had sunk two shots in, and I managed to get another ball. So far, we were definitely winning, but Liam and Niall had three balls sunken as well. The game didn't last that much longer because Louis was a pro, Niall and Liam appearing irritated.
"Rematch," Liam suggested.
"Nah. However, I will play you in soccer."
"We're not dressed for that," Niall pointed out.
"You don't have to be dressed for it," Louis stated plainly. "I have a ball in the car. We can finish up here and play. You know, unless you don't think you could beat me."
"Oh fuck off," Niall complained. "I could kick your ass at soccer. I call dibs on Oliver. He looks good at soccer."
"That's so rude, Niall," Liam scoffed. "I'm good at soccer and you know it. Louis and I will kick your ass!"
Oliver just laughed, asking if they were always like this, and I nodded. We sat back down in the booth, getting another round of drinks. The five of us chatted for a little while, and I enjoyed my time with them, laughing at stories they brought up I hadn't remembered. For example, Louis burned popcorn, and it sent the entire building outside because he set off the sprinkles in our place. Of course, this was at the last place we were living, but thankfully it hadn't happened since then. Once our drinks were done, and we had paid, we got up, heading back to the car. Louis drove us to a park closer to our place. I knew it was because no one ever visited it, and it was less likely to be crowded even if people were there. Louis parked his car, the five of us getting out of the vehicle. He grabbed his soccer ball from the trunk, my brow pulling in at the amount of vehicles here, and the sound of shouting from not too far away.
"What if there are people?" I asked.
"Uh, then we go to a different park?" Louis shrugged. "It's no big deal, sweetheart, we'll figure something out."
Nodding, I held Oliver's hand, the man beside me asking if my friends were always this spontaneous. I told him it depended, and mentioned that with alcohol in their systems, it was more likely to happen. He appeared to understand, the five of us making our way into the field to see several people already kicking around a soccer ball. It wasn't that cold out, but most of them were dressed in sweats and long sleeved shirts, my brow pulling in as I paid more attention to one of the goalies, a familiar set of curls peeking out of a beanie.
"You have to be kidding!"
"What?" Oliver asked me.
"Louis, don't—"
"Aye, do you need some more players?" my friend asked smoothly. "I don't think Finley would like to play, but there are four guys ready and willing."
"Louis, you should think about the words that come out of your mouth first," Niall laughed.
"Thank you, Niall," he scoffed, shoving Niall's shoulder. "Anyway, do you—oh, hey, Harry."
"Hey, yourself," he stated, crossing his arms over his chest as he stood in front of my group of friends. "We have seven, so if all of you want to play, that'd work brilliantly."
"You know, I'm not so—"
"Are you scared?" Harry asked me.
He looked good and so I hated it. Why was it that my work nemesis happened to be a model who worked for my company? It couldn't be just some regular guy. No, it had to be the famous one that had millions of people pinning after him. Of course, I hadn't seen him since our last conversation, so I wasn't surprised that he had a rude tone with me. Though, I was surprised he was talking to me at all, to be honest.
"Well, are you?" Harry continued. "You know, scared my team will beat yours?"
"Oh, it's like that," I stated, letting go of Oliver's hand. "I'll have you know I played soccer in high school, and I was on the varsity team, so thanks for trying, pal, but you're going down."
He smirked, clearly amused. I was bound to beat him at his own game, and while there were five of us, one of Harry's friends volunteered to play on our team. Oliver called goalie, the rest of us falling into place before the game started. I was good at offense, so Louis, Liam, and I all took those positions. Thankfully, I had decided to wear sneakers today, almost having chosen boots, but now it was a great decision on my part.
"Dammit, Finley, pass the ball!" Louis called.
"Okay, okay!"
Kicking the ball between the two guys trying to get it from me, I smiled when Louis managed it, passing it to Liam thereafter. Liam carried it all the way to the goal, passing it to me as a distraction before I kicked it into the goal, flying past Harry. We cheered, high-fiving while Harry looked annoyed.
"That's my girl!" Oliver called. "I'm dating her, everyone! Isn't she amazing?"
The words were sweet, my cheeks flushing. His words had made me smile, our group resetting shortly after. Harry blocked Liam and Louis' goals, also blocking a couple of mine, but we were managing fine. Or, the best we could when Oliver was our goalie. He wasn't bad, but I didn't think he was that great. I still cheered for him every time he stopped a goal, though, everyone switching positions at the little break we had.
So far, it was five-to-three, my team winning. I was on defense now, Harry on offense, which made me kind of nervous. As Louis called the start of the match, he played offense still, Niall wanting to be the goalie. Oliver was also offense, along with Harry's friend Ryder, while Liam and I were set to protect Niall from doing any work. As they started approaching, Liam and I both went after someone, who's name I believed was Xavier, however, he quickly passed the ball to Harry. I ran up to him, trying my best to get the ball, but he wasn't having it.
"No, it's—fuck, it's mine," I scoffed, trying to fend him off with my elbow. "Harry, I swear to God, you're going down."
"Non, tu." (No, you.)
"Non, tu," I scoffed. "Liam, help!"
"You can't shout for help," Harry quickly said.
"Help!" I yelled louder.
It made him pause for the briefest of a second, a small smile forming on his face, but it was quickly replaced with a grimace when he realized I was just distracting him to get the ball. Passing it down the field to Louis, he then passed it to Oliver, who passed it to Ryder. At the last second, Ryder passed it to Louis again, my friend scoring another point.
"Mi hai usato." (You used me)
"You did something," I stated. "I don't know what that means."
"Nothing. You're going down."
"Alright, we'll see about that."
We continued playing for a while, Oliver switching out so he could be on defense. I knew it was so he could spend more time near me, a laugh leaving my lips when they were on the opposite end of the field, and he wrapped his arms around me tightly. However, it was short lived because Harry managed to get the ball, leaving me to run in front of him. Harry went to kick the ball at the same time I tried to steal it, causing me to completely trip. We both fell over one another, my eyes wide when I looked up to see a pair of light green eyes.
"You did that on purpose," I muttered.
"Non, tu." (No, you.)
I rolled my eyes, Harry getting up quickly, and holding his hands out to me. Taking them carefully, I brushed myself off, tucking my hair behind my ear. He sent me a knowing look, but I didn't know what it meant, leaving me to turn around and search for Oliver. He was busy trying to get the ball from someone on Harry's team, my body stilling when the man beside me whispered something near my ear.
"You're only nervous around me."
"Maybe because you're rude, and I never know how you're going to act. For example, the last time I saw you, you were rude. Right now, I can tolerate you."
He chuckled. "Or, you know, you like me."
"Good try," I laughed, turning around and pushing his chest. "Never going to happen."
"That's so crazy. It's just that, I swore I read somewhere that when a girl is nervous, it means they like the guy. And you don't get nervous around Oliver."
I glanced over at the boy playing soccer, Harry sending me a small salute as the ball started heading back down the field. He ran toward his goal, Oliver walking over to me and asking if I was okay. I nodded, explaining that I had just tripped, and it was all good now. He cupped my cheek, a smile on my face right before he leaned down and pressed his lips to mine. It was a sweet kiss, and I held onto his waist, the two of us smiling too much, so we pulled away.
"Fuck, you're so cute," he grinned.
"You're too sweet," I told him, cupping his face and kissing him again for a couple of seconds before pulling back when I heard shouting at us.
"Sorry, sorry!"
Squeezing Oliver's hip, I booked it to where Harry was about to make a goal, anger clear on his face. He tried to fend me off with his elbow like I tried with him, the two of us both struggling to get the ball from each other.
"Neonata, quit it."
"Non, tu."
"You don't fucking like him," Harry muttered under his breath.
"You're just jealous I'm kissing him and not you," I retorted, pushing at his chest. "Let me have it!"
"No!"
"Oliver!"
The man came over quickly, and I could tell Harry wasn't at all pleased with the situation he was in. He kicked it harshly past the two of us, his teammate getting the ball, and then scoring a goal. Niall apologized to us, but we assured him it was okay, Harry saying he was finished with the game. It was close to midnight now, and I watched as he grabbed a water bottle, my attention shifting to Oliver when he picked me up, throwing me over his shoulder.
"Alright, Finley, time to go home."
I didn't see anymore of Harry as we left, Louis, Liam, and Niall all thanking them for letting us play with them. It didn't take very long to get back to the car, and I simply looked forward to having a great rest of the night. Honestly, I didn't know what exactly would happen now, but I didn't plan on that much going on. However, a part of what Harry had said kind of stuck with me. He was right. I wasn't nervous around Oliver. It felt plain, and simple, and there was nothing to be afraid of with him. Yet, when I was around Harry, everything shifted and I felt like I was pushed out of my comfort zone. Not that I wanted anything to do with Harry after him being so incredibly rude to me, but I kind of thought that maybe he could have a point.