Me and Miss Jones... (Harry Styles)

Rosie

That arrogant arse! It had been three days since the fight between me and Harry, and I was still fuming. I couldn’t believe he had the audacity to turn up at my doorstep, dripping wet and looking incredibly sexy, only to have a massive go at me and make out like I was the villain, when in fact he was the one parading around with that…country singer with a reputation!

Oh, the very thought of it all made my blood boil. I didn’t even want to see that curly haired bastard after some of the stuff he had said. I had never felt so degraded and used, like I was some dirty secret of his that had got out of hand. He had the right to strut around apparently, but I go out for one dinner with Jake, a person who had been an incredibly important part of my life for the past however many years, and therefore I had every right to see him, yet Harry goes crazy at the very thought. How is that fair?

And I know part of me had, deep down, wanted to make Harry jealous and it had clearly worked, but the angry rage he had arrived with wasn’t exactly the reaction I had been hoping for, rather that he had taken me into his arms and swept me off to the bedroom for a long sweaty night of passion.

Instead, all that had happened was furious shouting and resulted in us not speaking, our very friendship and maybe more being brought into question.

And I was afraid of losing it. Of losing him. Harry was more to me than just an occasional hook up, he was my friend. I liked spending time with him, even out of the bedroom and with clothes on. He made me laugh, he listened to what I said, and he knew what I liked. As promised, he had never made me breakfast, but it hadn’t stopped him making us dinner a couple of times, and damn, he could cook. Another perk of the agreement. And now that was possibly over. The thought made me want to simultaneously scream and cry all at once.

I was furiously scrubbing the kitchen, early afternoon of the third day post argument, trying to take my mind off things when my phone rang, vibrating against the kitchen countertop, the very same countertop that Harry had hoisted me…no, stop thinking about him, it won’t help. Drying my hands, I grabbed the phone and pressed it to my ear, holding it in place with my shoulder whilst I continued cleaning.

          ‘Hello?’

          ‘Hey, it’s only me,’ Megan, with her usual way of greeting, answered.

          ‘Hi, why are you calling?’ I said, before wincing. I had been snapping at everyone since the fight and I knew it needed to stop, but I just couldn’t.

          ‘I just wanted to see if you were free to meet for lunch today?’ she asked, tactfully ignoring my attitude, which was unlike her. Still, I didn’t question it.

          ‘Just you and me?’

          ‘Yeah, the rest of the girls are busy, so I thought we could go out and do something, you know, to take your mind off the whole-’

          ‘Sounds like a good plan. Just let me get ready and I’ll come and meet you,’ I said, interrupting her before she could say his name.

          ‘Great! I’ll text you the address and I’ll see you in a few!’ she said chirpily as she disconnected, and I let the phone drop from my shoulder to my hand in a well-practiced move before sighing and throwing the dishcloth into the sink, heading through the flat to my bedroom to get ready. Maybe Megan was right, I just needed to go out and have fun, away from Mr Styles, and forget about him. We both needed to cool down and evaluate this whole situation before seeing one another. I could go a few more days without seeing him.

* * * *

Half an hour later I had parked the car and was heading into the restaurant Megan had text me the address to, annoyed that there were two or three photographers standing outside already snapping through the glass, probably trying to get a picture of Megan downing a glass of wine, which I had known her to do once or twice.