Sweet Tooth [HS]

FORTY ONE

The next day.

Max and Harry spent the whole day yesterday inside each other's arms. It had gotten sort of out-of-hand, actually.

When they eventually got up from the balcony Max didn't let Harry go and he'd walked inside with a human koala bear wrapped around his waist. They ordered breakfast in, and Max didn't let go of Harry's hand when she answered the door- just forced him to stand behind it as she awkwardly took the parcel one-handed. She'd even had a second shower because the thought of being away from him, even if only for a second, seemed too much to bare. And after using all of the hot water because maybe they got a bit carried away having hot, steamy shower sex, they'd stayed inside her bedroom, locked away, tangled beneath the bedsheets until the morning light began creeping through the window and Max's cursed alarm finally broke the spell.

And now they stood either side of her kitchen counter. Max had her eyebrows raised, had her arms locked around her chest and she was fighting the urge to laugh.

"So you've just randomly decided you want a tattoo today?"

Harry took a long sip of orange juice.

"Yup," he said, smacking his lips together as he slammed the glass down onto the counter.

"Just suddenly? Just out of nowhere?"

"I've been thinking about it for a while, actually."

"Oh really?" she narrowed her eyes as he feigned complete innocence.

"Oh yes, Mackenzie."

"And you have to come in this morning? Not when there are no customers, not when no one's working?"

"Ahh, Max. I'd love to," he shrugged and started rounding the kitchen island towards her. "But I've got important rockstar things to attend to today."

Max rolled her eyes but she could feel the smile dancing on her lips.

"You're ridiculous."

He grabbed her waist, lifted her up onto the counter and pressed his body between her thighs.

"Not ridiculous, baby. Busy."

She rocked her head back and laughed out loud, unable to stop herself. This was the most obvious display of jealousy she had ever seen, despite the fact they'd actually spoken about Finn at length the day before. Harry had told her word-for-word what Rory had said - about how he was this apparent 'competition' because Finley Cartwright had his 'heart set on her', but Max had told Harry the true facts. They were friends who occasionally fucked. And that was the reality, that was the truth, at least from where Max was standing.

Harry was also well aware that she couldn't just outright say Sorry Finn, I'm actually in this weird confusing incredible situationship with Harry Styles so jog on. That would be callous. That would be cruel. And that would let the secret out. If Max told Finn, there was no way of knowing who might know after that.

So now. With Harry looking up at her like this, all smug and all fake fucking innocence - Max just wanted to roll her eyes and tell him she could see exactly what he was doing.

It seemed that instead of Harry strolling in and putting on the typical, primal, masculine display in which he confronted Finn about his interest in Max - Harry had come up with a different genius plan. He was going to come in under the guise of getting a bloody tattoo- just so he could sus out his so-called 'competition'.

Ugh. Men.

"And this has nothing to with Finn?"

"Who?"