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"So how do you know Max Beaumont?" Harry questions, sounding both curious and concerned.
"The question is, how do you know Max?" I drunkenly slur, changing the subject.
Silence.
"He was my friend's date," I answer, and I see Harry's expression soften.
"He's not a good person Ava."
"Why though?" I ask. I'm constantly being told that he's a bad guy, and to keep away, but never actually being told why. I think I can make my own decisions about people.
"Why have you been ignoring my calls?" he questions. Now it's his turn at changing the subject.
"You know exactly why," I tell him, turning my body away so it's facing the window.
"I told you none of it was true. If everything that was written about me were true, than I would have died like thirty times, I'd be leaving One Direction, I'd be gay with just about all of my band mates, and that's only scratching the surface."
"How can I believe you?"
"Because I really care about you Ava. I wouldn't involve you in all of this if I didn't like you." Everything in the car just stops, and I swear I feel my heart skip a beat. I relish in his words, and they bring me a sense of comfort that I've never felt before. But is it enough?
"I just need to know one thing. Did you and Kendall ever... Were you and Kendall ever a thing?"
He hesitates almost. "Trust me. Kendall and I are just friends. We've hung out a few times. We went to the snow one time, and a concert, and the media spoke about it for a while, though we're just mates."
He seems to mean what he's saying, so I don't know what to think or feel. I look out the window and realise he's going the wrong way.
"This isn't the way home," I say, confused.
"No, I know. I can't take you home like this. You can crash at mine and I'll drive you home in the morning."
He seems adamant and there's probably no point in arguing about the matter. I absentmindedly tear off the label of the water bottle I was given earlier.
"You have a habit of doing that," he notices and smiles my way. "You know what that means don't you?"
"Um, no?"
He laughs and shakes his head, "Never mind."
We pull up to the house and I get out of the car barefoot, with my heels now in my hand. I wait for Harry to unlock the front door and I head straight for the kitchen. I hoist myself to sit up onto the kitchen counter, and take a sip of my water. Liam walks through to get to the lounge room area and looks a little surprised to see me.
"Hello again," he greets me.
"We are so not friends anymore by the way," I tell him.
I know he's the one who ratted me out to Harry, and told him that I was at the art gallery opening.
He laughs a little at my drunken behaviour as Harry enters.
"So apparently Ava and I are no longer friends," Liam tells Harry.
"Oh, so I'm not the only one? She told me the same thing earlier," and they laugh amongst themselves.
Liam goes back into the lounge room area, leaving Harry and I alone for the first time in what feels like forever.
"You're a funny one when you're drunk," he says as he hands me some coffee. "Though I'm not going to be envious of you tomorrow," he says referring to my inevitable hangover that I'm sure to have.
"No thank you, coffee is for grown ups," I politely decline.
He begins to laugh, and all of my previous anger and hurt towards him dissolves as I find myself smiling back at him as I observe him in the dim light. I can't believe I haven't ever noticed those lovely little dimples forming on the side of his cheeks as he smiles.
"Come here," I ask softly, urging him to come closer. "Please."
He walks closer to me as I sit on the bench and I want him closer. I wrap my legs around him, bringing his hips closer as they now meet mine. I look up at him through my lashes and wordlessly urge him to kiss me. I so desperately want to feel his lips on mine again, and to feel the way I did. Harry places his hands on my shoulders and moves his hips a fraction away from mine so we are no longer touching there. He rests his forehead against mine.
"Ava, I can't," he says in a voice I haven't heard him use before. It's such a turn on to see him like this. "I really want to, but you're drunk."
"No, I'm fine," I protest. I lean in closer, bringing his ear only millimetres from my lips, "I really want to," I whisper, and I can see goose bumps forming on his neck.
He sighs heavily with his eyes closed and I notice his Adam's apple move as he swallows.
"I'm not kissing you when you may regret it tomorrow. I'm not going to take advantage of you like this."
"Let me take advantage of you then," I softly reply, pulling him closer by the waistline of his jeans."
I almost think he's going to give in to my whim, though he pulls away entirely and takes a sip out of my water bottle.
"Ava, Ava, Ava. Please don't test my limits."
"I'm not drunk," I repeat to no avail, and my attempt falls on deaf ears.
"Come on," and he picks me up underneath my armpits to stand me up, "you need to get to bed."
I follow him to his bedroom and I almost trip and fall on my heels that I've thrown on the floor earlier. He holds me by my waist for the rest of the way there so I am steady, and when he takes his hand off me, I feel as if the part of skin he had touched is burning.
He opens up one of his drawers and throws me some black boxers and a grey shirt of his.
"I hope these fit," he says, holding out the boxers to check the sizing. "Alright, I'll just be on the other side of the door."
"Wait," I call him back. I turn around and pull my hair to the side, now displaying my neck. "Can you just?" I ask him to unzip my dress.
I feel him behind me and he delicately takes the zipper and slowly pulls it down, exposing my bare back. He fumbles with the zip and one of his fingers brush up against my skin and I feel that warmth resonating from him.
"All done," he tells me He says that, and yet his feet are planted firmly on the ground, unmoving.
I glance back at him, as he isn't exactly getting the hint.
"Oh. Right, I'll just be out here," he says as he comes out of his trance like state.
The door closes and my dress slips to the floor in a mass of lace.
I take off my bra and pick up his t-shirt that he has laid out on neatly on the bed. I hold it up to my face slightly and take in his scent. I inhale and it is a lovely mixture of cologne and the smell I associate as being Harry's smell. An indescribable scent, though it's clear how much I've missed it.
I slip the shirt over my head and I'm swimming in the fabric. The t-shirt's has large armholes and when I turn to the side you can see a feint outline of my breasts, and I wonder momentarily if I should put my bra back. I decide against it because I would rather be comfortable than worry about what he thinks, and I grab his boxers to put on.
I pull them up and they slide off my waist and down to the floor. I hold them up and call Harry back into the room. He re enters and his eyes glance to me and I see a flicker in his eyes that I've seen only a few times before.
"Look," I say, showing him that the boxer short's waistline are too big on me. "Do you have anything else?"
"Err, not really," he thinks, "I'll have a quick look."
"No, it's okay," I stop him, "I can just sleep in my underwear."
It's what I normally sleep in, and his shirt is long enough to cover most of my downstairs area.
"Oh, right. Well you can stay in here if you like," he waves his hand over to his bed.
"No, I can stay on the couch, I'm not fussed," I offer.
"Liam's staying there."
"Then where were you planning on sleeping?" I ask, confusion set on my features.
He smiles to himself, in an almost embarrassed way, "I was kind of hoping Liam would let me in with him."
"Are you serious? Don't be silly Harry. Stay in here with me," I insist.
He licks his lips and brings his green eyes to meet mine, "You'll probably make a move on me though," he laughs, running his hands through his curls.
I chuck a pillow at him and he ducks.
I realise I'm still awkwardly hoisting up the boxers to sit on my hips with my hand. I let them fall to my ankles and I pick them up and throw them to Harry. Distracted, he misses. I smile to myself, feeling empowered.
I ask if he has a spare toothbrush and he directs me to the bathroom. I brush my teeth and add the toothbrush to his holder. I feel nice and minty fresh. I find a face cleanser and rinse my face to cleanse off any excess make up. No matter how hard I try, my lips still a red tint from the lipstick I was wearing earlier.
When I return, Harry is sitting up in bed. His eyes dart over to me and I feel so exposed. I thank my mother's genes for her long legs, and I bend over to pick up my dress that I had left earlier. I almost regret doing so as my underwear I am wearing is quite sheer. I had worn white lace French knickers to match my dress. Not that I had planned on anyone seeing though. I like them in comparison to the thong type underwear as I like that they show a little bit of bum, but still leave a bit of mystery.
"Nice bum," he says, smiling his charming boyish grin.
"Perv," I call him.
"You so did that on purpose. You thought, oh yeah, Harry will love me in these lovely little knickers," he mocks.
"Shut up." I say in between giggles, "You're so full of it sometimes," I say, as I tentatively climb into bed.
I am very aware of the vast space in between us and feel the edge of the bed digging into my side.
"I don't bite," he says, poking me in the side and I move over a little more.
I almost wish that he did.
Question of the chapter: Do you think you know yet why Harry and Max seem to heavily dislike one another? Also, Ava seems to act like a child when she's drunk - to those readers who are old enough to legally drink, how do you behave? I'd love to hear some funny stories you may have. I personally have quite a few - one being that I was so drunk I started talking in an English accent, and then started crying because I didn't know how to stop. Yes. That actually happened.
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