LIVE LOVE AND NIALL HORAN
Chapter Four
"Louis!" I hissed. "What are you doing?"
The last time somebody did something like that, the guy blushed and walked away. But this time, Louis' comment only seemed to encourage him. He walked towards us in a lazy fashion, as if he had all day. He was wearing dress pants, a button down and a jacket. He looked like a businessman.
"I'm sorry," he smirked once he was only a meter away from us. "But there aren't too many good looking ladies in London."
"Right," Louis said sarcastically. "Because it isn't the home to quite a bit of models or anything, right? Try less cheese and more macaroni with your next line."
"Louis!" I elbowed him in the side before he could embarrass me anymore.
The man looked amused. "I'm Darren."
"And she's not interested," Louis interjected. "So you can leave now and stop perverting on her."
"I think she can talk for herself," Darren responded smoothly, looking Louis up and down. "You lads look familiar."
Louis continued to glare at him. I shifted nervously. Why was he all... weird about this? It wasn't like I was dumb enough to talk to the guy and have a conversation or something...
"Perhaps," Louis replied innocently. "We look like the last lads that caught you staring at a 17 year old?"
Darren's eyes widened as he turned back to me. "You're 17?!"
I bit my lip. I had gotten this reaction more than a few times.
"Yes," Louis practically snarled. "She is. Now make your way down to Victoria's Secret or something. The models there must be legal."
*
"Louis!" I exclaimed as we sat in a small coffee shop. "What was that?"
"What was what?" he asked innocently.
"Honestly," I rolled my eyes. "I'm from NYC. I think I can take care of myself."
"Louis told him off pretty well," Harry shrugged. "I can't believe you didn't notice his eyes down your shirt."
"Maybe because they weren't," I stirred my mocha frappe.
"They definitely were," Zayn chimed in.
I glared at them all. "Can we just drop this pointless subject? I can take care of myself you know."
Liam shrugged. "Subject dropped. So, you never got to really tell us; why England?"
"Um," I bit my lip. "Well my mom got transferred, apparently I'm too young to be on my own, she thinks I'd trash the house, which I totally would and my dad is... out of the scene."
Louis nods in this sort of sympathy way that I don't quite understand.
"Don't worry," Niall gives me a devilish grin. "We'll make sure it's the best year of your life."
*
"So," Harry says. We're at Liam's place, which was similar because they're in the same complex, but definitely cleaner. "What's NYC like? Family, friends, boyfriends?"
I laughed. "I love it. I love the city, I can't imagine living in the country or like on a farm. And in the city, you're always near people and sound. It's never quiet. And even though London is a city too, it's different. Um, I live with my mom, but it's not like she's ever around. I have a lot of friends from school and stuff. And... I'm currently single. I've been single for a while, actually. I'm not into dating because guys get clingy, fast, in NYC."
"This is your senior year right?" Liam asked.
"Yup," I sighed. "I filled out and finished it up early. I'll be going to uni or whatever, not this September, but next. It's... complicated. But I'm missing prom and grad and stuff like that, which sucks. God, I hate my mom's work."
"Hey, hey," Louis opened a bag of Lays ketchup chips. "if it wasn't for your mom's work, you wouldn't be here with us right now!"
I rolled my eyes. "You say that like it would be a bad thing."
"Me ouch," Louis popped a chip in his mouth. "Feisty, are we?"
Harry, on the other hand looked thoughtful. "What day is your prom?'
"June 25th," I sighed. "Why?"
"Nothing," Harry shrugged. "Just curious."
"Let's play the awkward game. First one to get awkward or not answer loses, loser makes dinner," Louis suggested, his mouth full of chips. "Us, versus you. We're going first."
"I'll still win," I laughed. "You have no idea how good I am at this thing."
"What did you first kiss taste like?" Louis doesn't hesitate to spring a question. Too bad I've answered this question like 38924239 times.
"Gatorade," I responded. "What colour are your boxers?"
"Uhh, lemme check..."
I groan and turn away as he pulls his pants down.
"Red. What colour is your bra?"
"One second..." I forgot what I put on. "Lacy and white. If you had to date one of the guys in the band, who would it be?"
"Harry," Louis responds without hesitation. "Best boy you've ever dated?"
"Nate Doyle."
I'm surprised how his name comes out when I didn't even think yet. He was my first boyfriend and my most recent ex. We had that Barbie/Ken love, but not even Barbie and Ken lasted. Mattel broke them up in 2004 or something. But nothing good ever comes out of perfection.
"Worst reason why somebody broke up with you?" I snap back to the game.
Louis smirked. "I wasn't 'attractive' enough. I think she couldn't see 'well' enough."
I groaned.
"You know you'll lose for sure," he said cockily, popping another chip in his mouth. "What's your bra size?"
"Why?" I teased. "Gonna buy me a present? 36 C. Boxers of briefs?"
"Boxers," Louis looked at me, horrified. "Who would choose briefs? Boyshorts or thongs?"
"Boyshorts," I smiled. "Are a LOT more comfortable. You should try a thong something and you'll see."
Everybody laughed.
"I had a golden thong on once," Harry piped up.
"That was hilarious," Liam grinned.
"Daniel Radcliffe or Rupert Grint?" I asked, getting back to the game.
"Daniel," Louis decided. "We met him once and he was a nice lad. And I'm not that into gingers. Is Eleanor an option? Oh and who's the most attractive one of us 5?"
"You MET him!?" my jaw dropped. "Lucky!"
I'm avoiding a question in the awkward game. Which I've never done before. Why?
"Yeah," Louis' mouth is full of chips again. "And you didn't answer."
"Oh yeah," I lie. "Uh, Niall. Worst boyfriend move you've ever done?"
"Your questions are getting lamer," Louis rolled his eyes. "Forgotten a date. If Niall kissed you right here and now, what would you do?"
I have to admit, that one caught me off guard. I didn't have an answer, I just blushed a teensy bit.
"You're blushing!" Louis hollered. "You lose! You're stuck with dinner."
I rolled my eyes. Better than answering that question.
"I hope you guys know I passed Grade 10 home ec and family studies with 69%," I warned them. "Don't blame me if you get food poisoning or something."
"69," Harry snickered and they all cracked up again.
I made my way to the kitchen and opened the fridge. Was this what they ate? Well, I couldn't blame them. Boys. I opened a cabinet and fished out some pasta, deciding to make that. Only there wasn't any instructions on the package. I gave a frustrated sigh.
"Having fun?"
I turned around to see Niall leaning on the door, his cute smile lighting up his face.
"This is probably where my barely passing mark in family studies came from," I sighed.
"Lemme help you," Niall chuckled, taking the bag of spaghetti from my hands and opening it. "Never cooked before?"
"Only in class," I admitted as he filled a pot with water. "So I could pass 10th grade. There's people that... do that... at home."
I hope I don't sound spoiled?
"Rich girl, eh?" Niall teased as he put the spaghetti in the pot and turned on the stove. "Living with Harry and Louis must be a big change."
"It's not so lonely or quiet," I shrugged. "My mother was rarely ever home, and she wasn't too social when she was. I had friends over 24/7 to make up for it."
Reaching on my tippy toes, I grab a can of pasta sauce from the shelf. Tomato with four cheese. Yum? I hope I don't poison us all. I try to screw the lid off, but it's refusing to budge. $@#&.
Niall chuckled. "Let me."
He easily twists open the lid.
"Way to make me look bad," I stuck out my tongue at him like a 5 year old.
Niall chuckles. God, he's hot. As we wait for the pasta to boil, I prop myself up on a counter and slightly swing my legs.
"You're taller than me now," he observed, running a hand through his perfect blonde hair.
"How tall are you?" I asked curiously. I had always been kinda short in my circle of friends, but definitely not the shortest.
"I'm only 5'7," he admitted. "You?"
"5'5," I responded. And I liked to think another half.
He put his hands on my knee caps. "How much product do you put in your hair?"
"None?" I responded, confused.
"Oh," Niall looked at me thoughtfully. "Your hair always looks perfect in place..."
Before I could respond, Louis hollered from the other room, "Quit flirting and start cooking, please?"
I blushed and hopped off the counter, making a mental note to tease Louis about Eleanor later.
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