Love Always, Olive.

4

4. (Olive’s POV)
“No.” Louis snatched up my phone when he realized I had been texting Harry all day. At first I was just checking in with him about the little list I made, but then he just kept going. He had this irresistible, flirty way with words that he probably used to wiggle into girls pants weekly. Of course, I was having none of it- not that Louis would let me. “Absolutely no.”
“Louis, gimme back my phone.”

He unlocked it- the password being the same since year six: ‘FUCK’ aka 3825. I watched impatiently as his eyes skimmed the rows and rows of our conversation. “Really?” He rolled his eyes, typing something then pocketing my mobile.

“Really what?”

“You’re leading him on.”

Ok, so maybe I flirted back with my, uh, charm. “He started it.”

Louis threw his hands up, hanging them from the back of his neck. I glanced warily at my best friend. I’d known him to be the light that fills the room, you never knew what to expect from him but since he was outgoing and had a lot of humor he always made things a bit fun and gave everyone a good laugh. I stared and waited for him to continue, to make light of this, but he merely let his tanned arms fall limp to his sides. Louis’ usually dancing, happy, crinkled eyes had darkened to an emotion unknown to me. When he ran a hand through his thick brown hair, I realized he was anxious about something… Me?

“I worry about you, Libs.” He sighed, using his surprisingly muscular arms to pull me against his warm chest. He was worried about me. Great.

I sighed, nuzzling my face into the warm crook of his neck, “You shouldn’t. I know you’re gonna be all ‘Oh, bad habit,’ but you can’t spend all your free time worrying about me!”

“You and Harry are a no. Anyone else here really, but not him.” Louis’ asked softly.

Fuck no. He just made the game ten times more interesting.

“Why not?”

“Not my place to tell. All I have to say is we all have reasons for being here.”

 

--

 

“Not your type.”

I jumped at the voice behind me and quickly swiveled in the bar stool to find the source.

“Harry Styles.” I smirked, a slow seductive smirk.

“Olive McKenzie.” He countered with an equally stunning grin.

“You know,” I sighed, waving for another shot, “He could be my type, you don’t know me, you don’t know my type.”

“Oh, I know your type.”

“Mhm. And that would be…?”

Harry reached for my shot glass and tipped it back. He raised his eyebrows when he realized it was pure vodka, and I smiled sinisterly to myself. He leaned against the hard wood bar, hands in pockets, with a thoughtful expression on his face.
“You want a guy who will sweep you off your feet. You want to travel, fall deeply in love, and have rough, kinky, sex.” His tongue swept across his lower lip and I felt my stomach knot. Usually I was the one in control.

“Well, that sounds nice, I’ll give you that.” I recovered, brushing my hair out of my face, “But, for now I’m looking for meaningless sex, which can be just as kinky, so if you’ll excuse me.”

I stood up to go pick up this guy, only to be stopped. Harry's arm wrapped around my waist and pushed me back into my seat.

"Nope." He insisted, "Don't waste your time."

I glanced past Harry's shoulder and noticed the guy I planned to take home staring right back. His skin had a dark, soft look, but his eyes were intense. His head tilted up as a way to say hello. Or perhaps something ruder. Either way I didn't mind and I nodded and lifted my drink to him.

"Hmm you'd rather me come onto you?" I teased, putting my full attention on the annoying curly haired boy only inches from my lips.

He laughed and relaxed a bit. "I won't say no if you do. I just don't think you want to be all mixed up with him. I mean, he sleeps with a lot of girls. You're practically guaranteed
to wake up with a rash."

"Thanks for the tip." I nodded trying to skirt around him to my waiting man.

"You seem like a nice girl and all so-"

"I'm not a nice girl. Whoever told you that is out of their mind and if you deducted that much yourself then you're blind." I sighed, stretching my arms over my head. I continued with a small smirk, "Look, I don't want to hurt your feelings, but you're wasting your time."

"What, talking is a waste of time?" Harry was not getting the fucking message.

"We're not talking. You're flirting with me. And you're also cockblocking your friend."

"Huh? He's not my friend. He's a total wanker, actually."

"You're cute, Harry, but you reek more of romance and good intentions with every passing second. I'm not looking for a nice guy. I don't do boyfriends, and I don't date." My voice grew strained after I finished. Harry seemed semi decent... Louis friends usually were.

"All I heard was don't, don't, don't, don't." Harry battled a grin.

I rolled my eyes and got up to leave. I nodded at my admirer, and apparently wanker, "What's his name?"

Harry peeked over his shoulder and made a rude hand gesture. "Thomas. His name's Thomas... oh and Olive? I am anything but a good guy, so you must be as blind as me."

Louis's earlier warning popped into my head, "Anyone but him...  We all have reasons for being here..." My mind ran in circles as I stood torn between two. I found myself drifting to Harry, but when I looked up I was alone. His bar stool was empty, money for our drinks on the bar's countertop. Thomas it was then.