chapter 6.

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You're saying those words like you hate me now
Our house is burning
When you're raising hell
Here in the ashes
Your soul cries out
But don't be afraid of these thunderclouds
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Harlow Dean

Karma's a fucking bitch.

Harry looks like he's having the time of his life and his four friends are absolutely gobsmacked. All four of them are staring at him with their jaws dropped and I'm starting to think maybe if I got four of the girls to go and dance for them all but Harry it would've been better.

I forgot we're supposed to be 'together'.

His face suddenly changes when Luna just gets up and leaves, leaving him looking both pissed and confused, and me with the biggest smile on my face. He was clearly really enjoying so the fact she just stopped is hilarious, he wasn't expecting it at all.

Just as I'm standing in the corner, watching from a distance as my little form of entertainment for the night unfolds, Harry's eyes snap onto mines and suddenly I'm nervous.

Shit.

Why is he standing up? Why does he look like he's about to murder me?

Fuck.

He really is that mad over a lap dance isn't he? That's what he gets for pissing me off. Next time I'll make sure Demi uses gin instead of vodka in his drinks.

That walk just screams anger, there's not the slightest bit of happiness about him right now. His jaw is clenched, his brows are casting shadows over those green eyes of his and even his hands we're closed into fists. Something about that deep red silk shirt also adds to the natural evilness he has about him.

His left arm is covered in tattoos but it's not a sleeve, it's more like a sketchbook and it actually looks cool. There's a tattoo on his stomach that's only just showing due to the button on his shirt but it definitely does make him look like the typical bad boy from films and he has the attitude to go with it.

"Enjoy the show birdy?" He asks, words coated with fury as his eyes stared down into mine and he stood towering over me, slightly less than usual thanks to the heeled boots I'm wearing tonight.

"I did yeah, did you?" I tease back, unable to keep the grin off my face.

"You wanna fuck me or something? Because if that's the case, you should've just said sweetheart." Harry chuckles smugly.

Fuck him? Is he serious? He's the last person I wanna fuck. Is that seriously what he got from that? That I want to fuck him? Is he aware that not every human with a pulse wants to get in his bed?

"You know not every woman with a heartbeat wants in your pants right? I don't wanna fuck you Harry, not even if you were the only man left on planet earth." I tell him pretty sternly.

"Really? When was the last time you got laid?" He scoffs, a singular dimple taking place on his cheek as he forms a smirk.

Oh for fucks sake.

He's such a dick, and literally why? We made a deal to pretend to be together and sure, it's beneficial to us both but I'm really doubting that now. We could be friends and make this whole thing easier, but I guess Harry's the type of guy who doesn't do friendships.

"None of your fucking business." I argue back.

"Well for me it's been a week and because of the situation between me and you, it's gonna be a while, so if you wanna make another deal and we can help each other out...no strings attached kind of thing" He suggests, knowing all too well he's pushing his luck.

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