15 Years // harry styles

chapter fourteen

B

The next three days flew by after the secret room incident. Harry slept on the couch that night, but somehow found his way to my bed again by morning. He spent the next night in his hotel room, and the tiny apartment seemed more empty than ever. The rest of the band came to town the next day and I insisted he spend the day with them and go out for drinks that night, but he still stopped by to say hi and bring me some coffee, which left me smiling for an hour afterwards, even though I knew he wouldn't be good to drive and I would be alone in my bed again.

So to say I was hopeful a few moments ago when I heard a knock on the door is the understatement of the century.

I spring up from my nook, ignoring Lydia's smirk from the kitchen at my eagerness.

He's leaning against the doorframe when I open it, an oversized packers sweatshirt making him look extra cozy despite his tight black jeans.

"Well hello stranger," he says, ducking down to kiss me. It's warm and familiar and I realize just how much I missed him.

"Hi there." I take his hand and pull him inside. He tosses the bag he's carrying by the door before following me towards the living room.

"Hey Lydia!" He calls, making her smile.

"Hello Harold." I watch as she grabs her keys and jacket, dodging us and heading for the door. "Goodbye Harold."

He pouts a little, turning to me as the door closes.

"Did I do something?"

"Hmmm, well, you did 'accidentally' lock yourself in a dark, secret room with her only niece for 5 hours."

His face falls immediately and I giggle, wrapping a hand behind his neck and kissing him.

"I'm kidding H, she has a dinner tonight."

"You little shit," he sighs against my lips, relaxing more as I wrap my fingers into his messy curls. He picks me up with ease, walking us towards the kitchen before sitting me in the counter top.

"I missed you," I breathe, pulling his hips closer to me with my legs.

"Missed you more. I even planned a date for us tonight but I think it might be busted." He brushes a few stray hairs behind my ear, and I match his gaze as he stares at me. It's slightly intimidating, but more flattering than anything and I can feel my cheeks warm.

"Busted?"

"Well, I need Jer to drive us, and I was gonna ask Lydia to make those lemon bars, but since she's not here it looks like we might be stuck here for the night."

I can tell he was excited for whatever his plan was, and I don't like the sadness in his eyes.

"Well, I mean we could make them. I've known the recipe since I was 8," I offer with a shrug. His eyes light up at that.

"Then I've officially got a hot date with a beautiful girl tonight. If she will accept that is," he adds, quirking an eyebrow as he starts to move loose papers off the counter.

"If?"

"Well, you aren't obligated to go with me I guess. Since we aren't technically dating." A smirk pulls at those beautiful lips of his as he searches the cabinets for mixing bowls. I jump down, going to the right one and grabbing them before he can.

"Well, if said beautiful girl was asked to date said boy, I'd say your, I mean his chances of success would be fairly high." I slide over to the fridge, grabbing some eggs and milk.

"Fairly high? Hmm, I think said boy likes probabilities in percentages."

"I'd give him a solid 89% chance of success."

"Good to know, good to know." He smiles again, twirling a whisk around in his hand.

"We need four fresh lemons, flour, powdered sugar and a pan." I don't realize I said it out loud until after I do, but Harry starts scouring the pantry as I start whisking eggs.

Once all the ingredients are on the counter, Harry shuffles some music on his phone and starts to help me mix together a batch.

"Now, be careful when you whisk the powdered sugar in cause it'll go everywh-," I start to him warn, but it's too late and I shut my mouth before the swirling powder can send me into a coughing fit. I assume it's all over my face, but Harry confirms it by busting out laughing. He covers his mouth with one hand to try to contain it, but it's no use.

"Do I something on my face babe?" I ask innocently, starting slow before leaping towards him and wiping my face on his sweatshirt. He gasps, grabbing a handful of flour off the countertop and sprinkling it in my hair as I do the exact same thing to him.

By the time we've used all the loose substances we can find were laughing so hard there are tear streaks through the powder on both our faces. He chuckles before kissing me again, smiles still on our lips, a few breathless laughs making their way through.

"We should bake these so we aren't late for our date." Harry finally says when he pulls away.

"It's something we can be late for?" I ask.

"That's for me to know and you to find out, now to get cleaned up," he teases, kissing me again before spinning me around and smacking my butt to send me towards the bathroom. I roll my eyes, and he chuckles as he watches me walk away.

I don't see the very distinct flour handprint on the ass of my leggings until I'm about to get in the shower, yet I can't help but smile at it before starting to get ready.