Blue

And when things went to shit, everything blew up in my face in an instant.


Wednesday

I took a fitful drag on the cigarette, exhaling the air out of the corner of my mouth. My head was throbbing in constant rhythm with my pulse, partially from being hung over and partially from the numbing realization of everything that had happened. Oh wait, that’s right: nothing had happened. He’d freaked out over nothing.

I studied the glowing end of the cigarette. “You wanna fuck again?”

Louis chuckled, lighting another cigarette and staring out of the view we had of Vegas from his hotel balcony. “Well. Yeah, but I know you’re just using me, love. Don’t get me wrong, I sincerely enjoy being used by you, but you don’t love me. You love Harry.”

I wanted to jam the lit end of my cigarette into my wrist. It would hurt. But if it did, maybe that was a sign that I was still alive. It sure as fuck didn’t feel like it anymore. “Yes, there’s a certain truth to that statement. After what happened, though, you can add my name to the very long list of women who love Harry, but aren’t loved in return.”

He exhaled cigarette smoke slowly, running his fingers fitfully through his messy hair. “This is the shit part of being in One Direction.”

“You don’t say.”

I went to take another drag of my cigarette. My hands were trembling; shaking out the point I could barely get it up to my mouth. It had happened so fast—everything was fine, it was perfect. We were happy and celebrating and then boom. One picture. One became two, two became headlines, and then it was over. A tear slid down my cheek. I brushed it away, more like a slap to my own face than wiping away sorrow over a boy. A man who obviously hadn’t trusted me. “Did I fuck Liam too?”

Louis laughed. “No. No, you didn’t, but you kissed him for a very, very long time.”

“God, maybe I am a whore.”

“At the time you claimed you were proving a point.” Louis draped his arm over my shoulder and pulled me to him. “They weren’t fair to you, love. We all know that. But he over reacted.”

“I made a lot of fucking mistakes.”

“No.” He straightened up and cupped my face with his hand, forcing me to look at him. His wide eyes were serious, staring into my mine—but with a noticeable lack of intensity like Harry’s gaze had been. “You didn’t make a mistake. This is the shit that always fucking happens, this is what they do to us. They’re doing it to sell headlines. You didn’t do a damn thing wrong.”

My eyes clouded with tears and I shook my head. “I would have married him. I honestly thought he was the one.”

He dropped his cigarette into the ash tray and pulled me into his arms, holding me tight. I didn’t feel anything for him. My body felt numb; my heart felt like it was shattered. Even thinking about the last few nights made me want to break down; to shoot heroin until I was a husk on the floor.

Deep down, I still loved him. I was always going to love him.

But he’d made it pretty damn clear he didn’t feel the same way.


Tuesday Night

Everything was swirling and spinning, this hilarious, dizzying rollercoaster from being drunk and high and devastated all at the same time. Music was pumping from somewhere in the room—at least, I thought it was, but it could have been in my head. A lot was still twisting in my head; things he’d said, things I’d said. How he didn’t even try to stop me when I walked out.

Slut.

Whore.

I literally had to sit up and suck in a deep breath. Liam started laughing, pulling me closer to him as I straddled him. “Can’t kiss and breathe at the same time?”

“I’m too high to remember where I’m even at.” I swayed unsteadily on his lap and then dipped my head down, kissing him again. “Wait, that’s right. My own personal hell. This is me, lashing out irrationally and with delusions. Delusion-- maintaining fixed false beliefs even when confronted with facts, usually as a result of mental illness. Look. I’m sober enough to remember my psych classes.”

“You’re far from sober.” He kissed me again, sliding his hands down my waist.

I felt absolutely nothing. This was the wrong response to getting dumped, granted, and I liked Liam. He and Sophia were having trouble and in the back of my mind, I knew this wasn’t going to help. But, the world evidently thought I was a whore. So, I was proving them right. “It’s helping me forget about what’s real.”

His lips were soft—a stinging, biting reminder of Harry’s—and he kissed me again, deeper and with more intensity. “You don’t have to leave tomorrow.”

“Yes I do.” I pulled back from his kiss, idly training my fingertips down his scruffy beard. It was different from kissing Harry. I was always going to compare every man to him. For the rest of my life. “I’m just destroying everything in my wake as I go. Like Godzilla. Laney-zilla. Fucker of dreams.”

He looked sad, gently cradling my face. “You should call him.”

I shook my head, moving his hand from my cheek back to my waist. “He made it pretty clear that he didn’t want to hear from me again.”

“I don’t understand how this happened. He didn’t even ask for your side of the story?”

“I don’t want to think about him right now, actually, so kiss me or leave.”

Liam shrugged and pulled me back to him, pressing his lips to mine. His hands were everywhere. I honestly didn’t care—I found very few things to care about at this point in time. I’d spend tonight ruining everything that Harry and I had so carefully put together over the last few months. I had my flight booked and then I was out. Done with this shit. With the pressure and the expectations and whatever else came with it. Fuck him.

I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of grieving over what we’d lost. I was going to just go on with my life like he’d never existed in it. Everything he’d said? Everything he’d promised? It was all a lie, obviously, since it seemed so damn easy for him to take it all back.

My thumb automatically reached for my ring finger, to rub the band of my blue diamond ring. I cringed. That’s right. It was gone too.

“Hey, Payno, she came here for me. Fun’s over.” Louis tugged on my upper arm, pulling me out of Liam’s tight embrace. “Come on, lovely, Tommo will make it all better.”

I mumbled something, I wasn’t actually listening to myself anymore, and reached for my drink on the end table. I tossed it back; the straight whisky searing my throat as I gulped it down. I didn’t even care. “It’s been nice knowing you, Liam darling. Stay sexy.”

“Laney—“

I could feel myself slumping against Louis as he led me to his bedroom, idly waving at Liam. “I’m ending this with a bang, yeah? Doing what everyone says I do anyway.”

For a moment, it crossed my mind how sad he looked; but before I gave it much actual thought, Louis pulled me into his arms and started kissing me. “You sure about this, Laney?”

No. “Yes.”

He kicked the bedroom door shut and tugged my shirt over my head. “Because this will really piss him off.”

“Good, let him be pissed off. Let him know how he made me feel.” I reached my hand behind my back and unclasped my bra, sliding the straps down my shoulders and tossing it to the floor. “Because he made me feel like shit, Lou, like I had gone and done something horrifically wrong and I hadn’t. If he’s so convinced you and I were fucking behind his back, then let’s fuck.”

He fumbled with the buttons on my skirt and shoved it down my legs. “Shaky reasoning, but we’ll go with it.”

“Damn right we will.” I ran my hands down the tattoos on his chest. Another reminder of Harry; God damn it. Everything I was going to look at for the rest of my life was going to remind me of what I’d had. Oh look, that guy has eyes. Harry had eyes. “Fuck me. Hard.”

“I will, lovely.” He crushed his mouth to mine and pulled me to the bed, his hands everywhere like Liam’s had been just minutes before. I didn’t even care; I honestly felt nothing emotionally. Physically, he felt fantastic. And that was fine because I wanted to get off. I wanted to fuck his friend because I could.

But I was only playing the part: I sighed when I knew I was supposed to sigh and bit my lip in actual pleasure when he’d change his rhythm. As he moved his kisses to my throat and breasts, I stared up at the ceiling, running my hands through his hair. The light above the bed seemed to sway around the ceiling, bouncing back and forth. I didn’t feel anything.

My heart was broken.


Tuesday Afternoon

He slammed the magazine down on the table in front of me, his brow knitted in such a deep frown that I couldn’t even see the green in his eyes. “Do you want to explain this?”

The anger in his voice was palpable; it made panic radiate across my chest. I tried to bite the feeling back. “Apparently you have your mind made up.”

“I don’t even know what to say to you, Delany.” He brushed his hair back from his face and started pacing next to the table. “I don’t even know even know where to start.”

I glanced down at the magazine cover. The headline was screaming out in big, bold letters: Laney cheats on Harry with Louis!

My mouth ran dry. “Harry, I didn’t cheat on you.”

“Oh, really?” He lunged forward and yanked the magazine off the table. Flipping the pages, he found what he was looking for and jammed it in my face. “Explain this to me, then.”

It was a grainy picture, but I recognized it immediately. It was me and Louis on the waterslide in Dubai, his hands curved over my shoulders. How the fuck did someone get a picture of us? The pool area was closed. The people hanging out with us were either friends or security—those that weren’t had signed confidentiality agreements.

And then it hit me. The beach. The pool area had been right beside a public beach. Anyone could have seen us. “It’s not what you think—he was drunk.”

Harry was silent for a moment and then flipped the page. He pushed it in my face again; I shoved it back. “I didn’t sleep with Louis.”

“This is from Sunday night!” His voice was a near roar; I flinched.

And there was I was: in Louis’s arms, laughing and smiling up at him. How had anyone gotten a picture—at that moment? We’d been alone. “No, that’s taken out of context.” I shook my head. “I was walking back and—“

“And, what, Laney? Decided you’d snog someone else?” He pounded his clenched fist to his forehead. “What is the matter with you? What did I do to make you want to sleep around behind my back? I thought you loved me?” His voice was pure anger, but I still heard the slight twinge of hurt. I could read it in his wide green eyes.

I stood up from the chair and reached out to him; he jerked away and it was like a slap right to my face. “Harry, I’d never cheat on you. You have to listen to me, I can explain that picture—“

“Did you even listen when management and my lawyer and fucking Simon Cowell sat you down and told you what it meant to be my girlfriend?” He didn’t even give me time to answer. “No, obviously not. Because you don’t think.”

“Just who do you think you are?” I could feel tears pricking the backs of my eyes. I blinked furiously to will them away. “Oh, that’s right. The god Harry Styles. The man who can do no wrong.”

“I never said that. I fuck up too, Laney, but never on the cover of god damned magazines.” He sucked in a deep breath. “And Louis. You fucking pick Louis.”

“I didn’t fuck Louis!” The tone of my voice terrified me. It was shrill, panicky. I felt like I was watching the whole exchange through someone else’s eyes. This couldn’t be happening. “Harry, I was with you all night. We had a good time—“

“Yeah, you had a good time. Fucking Louis.” He exhaled sharply through his nose, again running his hands through his hair. “The world is laughing at me right now, Laney. First they make this massive joke about me and Louis fucking and now my girlfriend is fucking him. Do you have any idea what this is doing to my image?”

“Your image?” I nearly spit the words out. “Wait, that’s right. Your image is more important than your girlfriend’s feelings.”

“Maybe I don’t want you to be my girlfriend anymore.”

He might as well have just slapped me.

We stared at each other in silence. It was like time had stopped around us, the only thing that I could actually hear was the echo of his words in my mind. I felt like I was in a speeding car, on course to slam right into a brick wall and with no ability to change direction. My throat felt like it was seizing up; my chest searing in pain. I couldn’t even fight the tears back anymore. They spilled over my cheeks. I shoved past him and made a beeline to the bedroom.

I could hear him behind me, following me and still mumbling under his breath. I turned at him and practically screamed, “I’ll make it easy for you then. It’s over.”

He stared at me.

I nearly burst out laughing. “You’re a fucking idiot. First you tell me you don’t want me to be yours and then you look surprised when I tell you we’re done? Fuck you.”

I stormed into the bedroom and yanked my suitcase out of the closet. Unbelievable. This was so ridiculous that if I hadn’t felt physical pain in my chest, I’d have thought it was a nightmare.

He was right behind me. “So, it’s just like that, then? You’re just going to walk out.”

I yanked the dresser drawer open and pulled out my underwear and bras. Everything smelled like him; the pressure of tears built up even more behind my eyes. “You know, for someone with a tenth grade education, you’re pretty fucking brilliant.”

It was a cruel thing to say. I could see the hurt in his eyes. He looked uncomfortable for a moment, but then snapped at me. “Yeah? Well, you’re a whore.”

Fresh tears spilled over my cheeks. I slammed the dresser drawer shut. “I never slept with Louis. I’ve been faithful to you since we hooked up after the wedding.”

“You wanted to be a hook up. I had you from the moment you saw me.”

I slammed another drawer shut, dumping the clothes in my suitcase. “I thought you were different.”

“I thought you were too, but I was obviously wrong. Did you sleep with Liam, too? Or Niall?”

Everything he said stung. Why didn’t he believe me? “Since I fell in love with you, I have only ever slept or kissed or loved you. You were my world.”

His eyes were red rimmed and I could see his lips tremble ever so slightly. “We were just too young. It wasn’t real.”

“Really?” My eyes clouded again with tears; I didn’t trust myself to even speak. But I did; my voice choked and drenched in tears I just couldn’t let go. “Because you’re breaking my heart.”

He fell silent, his eyes locked on me.

I turned away. I didn’t want to do this; I didn’t want it to be over. But I couldn’t stay with someone who didn’t trust me. I stormed into the bathroom and threw all my makeup and toothbrush into my cosmetic bag.

He was sitting on the edge of the bed when I walked back in, still glaring at me. I dumped my makeup bag into my suitcase and looked at him. “So, you just want to end it like this? You’re not even going to hear what I have to say about that picture?”

“You cheated on me.”

I shook my head, yanking the suitcase shut. “Well, Harry, if you’re going to believe the headlines maybe I should too. All the blondes you’ve supposedly hooked up with after concerts?” I switched to my best British accent. “’Sorry Laney, I have to meet the lads and work on the album. I’ll be back late.’ And I just sat here, stupid and naïve.”

“It’s not like that.”

I scoffed. “And I should believe you….because? You think I cheated. Maybe you just feel guilty over cheating on me. It’s called psychologic projection. It’s where you blame other people for your own problems.”

“Don’t fucking analyze me, Delany.”

“Yeah, well, don’t worry. I’ll be out of your hair in a second.” I picked up the phone receiver and dialed the front desk. The man who answered sounded happy. Fuck him and his happiness. “Yes, this is Miss Lee in Suite 38. Can I have a taxi meet me at the front? As soon as possible?”

He’d barely confirmed he could when I slammed the receiver down. “You can keep the dress and the shoes since you bought them. I’ll admit, it was nice for you to cover for a broke college kid.”

“You can’t just walk out, we have to talk about this.”

I whirled around and threw my arms up in the air. “About what, Harry? You’ve decided on your own! You think I’m slut. And fine, think that all you want. If you won’t even let me tell you what happened, then you’re not worth my time.”

“You’re just another bitch who hooked up with a rock star. Desperate for attention.”

I couldn’t hold back the tears any longer. I held my index finger up to silence whatever other stupid thing he was going to say. For a moment, I couldn’t bring myself to say anything. Finally, I managed to choke out, “I thought what we had was real. I have never, ever loved someone like I loved you. Even after all the shit people said about me online. After people called me names and said horrible things about me? I never once thought about leaving. But now for you to say it? For you to be just as cruel as them? How could you?”

He didn’t say anything.

I didn’t expect him to. I twisted the blue diamond ring off my finger and threw it at him. “I hope you find what it is that your heart is looking for. But as far as I’m concerned? You can go fuck yourself.”

I hoisted my suitcase up and stormed out the room, slamming the door closed behind me. Harry didn’t even try to stop me. Whatever. It was over.

It was over.

I clamped my teeth down on my tongue until I tasted blood. It was like a train wreck. There’d been no chance to stop him; to explain it. His mind had been made up the second he’d walked into the room. I thought he’d loved me.

And I’d been wrong.

Once the elevator car stopped down on the Lobby floor, I’d tried to compose myself into the façade of being happy and put together. I was fairly sure it wasn’t working, based on the shocked expression of the guy behind the front desk. “I called for a taxi.”

“He should be here any minute.” He motioned towards the lobby. “You’re more than welcome to wait here—“

“No, I’ll wait outside.” I dragged my suitcases behind me and stalked outside. Fuck this shit. I needed a flight back to NOVA. I first texted Ben. I’m coming home. I’ll let you know when to pick me up at the airport. Don’t ask me questions because I sure as fuck don’t want to answer them.

And then I called Liam.

He answered in an instant, just as the taxi pulled up. The driver smiled at me, but I ignored him—shoving my own suitcase in the backseat.

Liam sounded concerned. “Laney? What—“

“I don’t actually want to talk about it.” I slumped down in the back of the taxi for several moments before realizing the driver was staring at me. “Um, just drive to the airport.”

“Airport?” Liam sounded confused—and rightly so, I guess. “What’s going on?”

I swallowed hard. “Well, um, some shit went down and I’m going home. The only number I have is yours and…um…I just wanted to say goodbye. Best wishes and luck and all that shit. Can you tell the other guys for me?”

“Laney, slow down.”

“Harry and I broke up.” I burst into tears. “All that shit in the magazine and he wouldn’t even hear me out—“

“Harry did what?” There was a muffled noise on the phone, like he’d pulled it away from his face and was talking to someone behind him. “No, you come here. You’re in no state to just fly home. Louis is here.”

“He…he called me a whore.”

“Damn it, Harry.” Liam was muttered it more to him than to me. “Look, Louis and I are at the Venetian.”

“No, I don’t want to be trouble…”

“Laney. I don’t want you wandering around Las Vegas like this, now, tell the taxi driver to take you to the Venetian. Or put me on speaker and I’ll do it.”

I cleared my throat and leaned forward. “Um, excuse me, can you take me to the Venetian instead…um…instead of the airport?”

The driver nodded.

After I’d hung up with Liam, I slumped down in the seat and covered my face with my hands. Damn it. How could this have happened? I loved Harry more than anything. We had this pure, sweet love. We were best friends. He was going to marry me.

And now that was over.

I choked back another sob. God damn the media. And God damn Harry for not listening to me. He hadn’t even given me the chance to talk to him, to explain what had actually happened. Jesus, what was going on?

Maybe he was right. Maybe we were just too young.

When the taxi stopped, someone opened my door and ran their hand down my back. Louis.

“Hey love.” He handed his credit card to the driver. “No questions and nothing to the papers, right, old man? If you can agree to that, you can give yourself a tidy little five hundred dollar tip.”

The driver nodded his head. “Not a problem, sir.”

“Good man.” Louis signed the receipt and then pulled me to my feet, again reaching into the cab to pull out my suitcase. “Come on, love. Let’s go talk.”

“I want to go home. Harry used to be home,” I started crying again, “and now…”

“Nope, we’re not talking about him.” We walked in silence to the elevators and then, as the doors closed, he pressed his lips to my forehead. “I’m sorry, love. He’s a fucking idiot to give you up.”

“He didn’t even let me talk.”

“Harry’s an idiot. I’ve just said it twice now.”

Louis smelled good, like cologne and cigarette smoke. I tried to push the thought out of my head. I wasn’t thinking rationally; my brain and my emotions were shot. “This is a fucking mess.”

“You know who’s losing out? Him. You’re too good a girl for someone like him, with his long hair and his Gucci shirts. He doesn’t deserve you.”

“I thought we weren’t talking about him.”

Louis chuckled and led me off the elevator. As we walked to his suite, it occurred to me that this was a show of really, really poor judgment on my part. Really bad.

Liam opened the door and promptly pulled me into a hug. “Oh, Laney. Come in. I just got a frantic call from management. Harry won’t answer his phone and everyone is in this crazed, disaster mode to get it out of the papers.”

I pressed my face to Liam’s shoulder. “But do you want to know what really happened?”


Monday

“I never thought it was going to come to this.” Sophia shook her head, stirring her tea with such force that the liquid spilled over the sides of the cup. “Don’t get me wrong, I still love him. But that’s why I’m leaving.”

“But you and Liam are perfect together. Sophiam, right?” I knew my eyes were puffy from crying, so I kept my face turned down to my cup. She’d asked me a few times if I was okay, but I honestly had no answer. Harry was acting weird.

“It’s not easy. None of this is easy.” She set the spoon down and sighed. “I’ve known Liam for ages, since our school days. I know he wouldn’t hurt me, but it’s the distance, you know? What they say in the medial doesn’t help either, with people constantly debating if one of us is cheating and analyzing every move we make. I try not to care. But it wears on me.”

“Yeah.” I pulled my hair up into a messy, blue bun and rubbed my eyes. Harry had slept on the couch the night before and I just couldn’t sleep without him. Everything felt wrong. He wasn’t talking to me, he wasn’t explaining what had happened. All I knew was that everything was fine—

--and then he got a text. Everything after that was shit.

“Are you sure you’re okay, Laney?” Sophia looked concerned, which was ludicrous considering how I was supposed to be the one making her feel better. “What’s wrong?”

“Ehhh, I don’t know.” I shifted from one hip to the other and then leaned my elbows on the table, holding my head in my hands. “Harry was just…I don’t know, he’s acting strange. Quiet, I guess. He….uh….fell asleep on the couch last night and didn’t come to bed.”

“They’re so tired, they’re just absolutely being run ragged. I don’t know how they do it.”

“Me either.” I could feel tears searing my eyes. He was mad at me. I wasn’t going to tell Sophia that, but the fact was still that he was avoiding me. Our suite at the Bellagio had started out as this awesome, luxury palace where we just cuddled and laughed and went crazy on each other. Now? Now he was obviously staying away from me. If I was in the living room, he was holed up in the bedroom. If I got something out of the bedroom, he stormed into the bathroom. It terrified me.

“Well, I’m sorry I missed out on last night.” Her steady voice broke through my thoughts. “You looked beautiful, though. I saw the pictures.”

I cocked my eyebrow upward. “Pictures? Already?”

“Well, yeah, they were on the internet as soon as they were taken.”

Ehh, I couldn’t get used to that. There was never any privacy. If Harry and I even made a move, it seemed photographers were there. When we went out for dinner, we had to fight our way through paps and fans. It made Harry so mad; he’d sit in the car with me and apologize over and over for what happened. It was the dark side of his fame: girls still said horrible things about me. The media seemed to always feed off rumors or even go as far as to make up their own. It wasn’t fair.

But I’d face a thousand photographers just to be with Harry. He was worth it.


Sunday

The lines in the women’s room were ridiculous. Every music star had an entourage of people and, after sitting through the crazy ceremony and then all the free champagne at the after party, everyone had to pee at once. You’d think with as fabulous an event as this was, someone could have tossed in a few extra bucks for some spare toilets. Or twelve. Were they somewhere else, maybe? Dumb.

Once I’d peed, I had to wait in yet another line to wash my hands. Ugh. I just wanted to get back to Harry and continue celebrating their two Billboard Music Awards. He was giddy with happiness, laughing and dancing and holding me close to him. He’d made it perfectly clear to anyone who’d listen that I was his girl and, when he thought people weren’t looking, he tried to slide his hands up my dress. I couldn’t stop laughing. God, I loved him.

I strolled out into the night air; it was practically electric with all the neon lights from Vegas. There was a hum to the night, like expectation and desire and excitement were buzzing around us like a literal energy. It was heady. And Harry was so incredibly sexy in his tight black trousers, black silk shirt, and black jacket. He looked good in anything he wore. He especially looked good naked.

“Were your lines as long as ours?” Louis was jogging to catch up with me, running his hands through his hair, coaxing his bangs to the side. “Because, I’ll be honest, it would have been faster to just pull it out and pee on the side of the building.”

“Usually when I wait in a line that long, there’s a rollercoaster waiting for me at the other end.” I shook my head. “With all that champagne they're pouring down our throats, I’d have been less surprised to see pay toilets.”

“I’m thinking about that for a side business at concerts, yeah? Tommo’s Toilets.”

“I’d stick to singing, if I were you.”

He laughed. “You wouldn’t use a pay Tommo Toilet?”

“Um. Well, Lou, as much as I’d like to say I would…I mean, I’m Harry’s girlfriend. Don’t I get it for free?”

“Well, you get what he gives you for free. But you and I are friends. I’d offer you a discount, say ten percent?”

“You’re hilarious.” I glanced at him. “Wait, are we arguing over a pay toilet that doesn’t actually exist?”

“I think I’d make a fortune.”

I started laughing. My concentration was off just enough that my ankle wobbled on my crazy platform shoes. I pitched to the side, my ankles twisting and giving way underneath me.

Louis was right there, grabbing me around my waist just before I lost balance completely and face planted on the pavement. I pressed my hands to his chest, steadying myself, and burst out laughing. “I am nothing but class and elegance, right? Jesus, I’m sorry. I could have killed you.”

He was laughing, keeping his arms around me until I regained my footing. “Oh, stop. You weigh, what, eight stone?”

I concentrated on keeping my ankles flexed and my body upright. Maybe it was time to lay off the champagne. “You know, stone as a weight of measurement is possibly the least flattering thing I’ve ever heard. I feel like you’re comparing me to a mountain.”

“No, no. You’re fine.” He chuckled. “Fine.”

“Oh, Jesus, Lou.”

Harry raised his eyebrows as we walked towards him. “What are you two going on about?”

“I can honestly say I have no idea.” I slid my arms around him, nuzzling my face against his. “Louis is going to have a chain of pay toilets and I almost face planted back there because walking in a straight line is perplexing.”

Harry laughed, tilting my chin up to kiss me. “You’re gorgeous tonight, Laney love. Just looking at those legs turns me on.”

“It because you want them wrapped around you.”

“You know it, baby girl.” He pressed his mouth to mine. “Let’s go find somewhere…ehm…quiet to make that happen. Now.”


Sunday, earlier in the afternoon

Harry stepped out of the limo, immediately running his hands through his long, curly hair. He grinned at me and reached in to help me out. “Come on, you look beautiful.”

“I’m trying to reholster my boobs.” I slid my hand down the front of my dress, where his hands had just been, and pushed my boobs back into my bra. “Way to be, Styles.”

“I’m sorry, I just don’t know what comes over me sometimes. It’s like my hands are magnetized or something.” He slid his hand into mine, pulling me to my feet.

I promptly stumbled, my ankles wobbling beneath me. I giggled. “I physically walked in these before you insisted you buy them for me, right? Because I’m walking like I’m drunk. Am I drunk?”

He laughed, sliding his arms around my waist and squeezing me gently. “No, but I’m drunk in love with you. Honestly, baby girl, you are stunning tonight. I can’t take my eyes off you.”

“Hazza.” I felt my cheeks heat up.

“It’s true.” He held me against him, gently pressing his lips to mine. “I love you so much, Laney. You are my world.”

“I love you too, Hazza.”

Notes

This was a hard one to write, guys. I hope the reverse order was kind of effective. Thoughts?? <3