Olivia
Harry just continues to be a total asshole today. I can't even believe he would say something like that to Liam. Accusing him of being distracted? If anything, he's distracted. Being around him is pissing me off. Ever since his confession last night he's been acting like the jealous boyfriend. Shooting daggers at me every time I touch Liam. Shooting daggers at Liam that he somehow doesn't notice. Of course that only makes me want to torture him more. I don't know why. There's some sort of sick satisfaction I get from it.
I don't even realize where I'm going until I end up downstairs in the hotel bar. Once I'm inside, I decide what the hell and order a drink. It's after noon now. The bar is basically empty except for a few haggard business men. I catch a few giving me lingering looks, making me feel super uncomfortable. Luckily it's nice and sunny out so I decide outside and enjoy it. And get away from the creep with the mustache that keeps staring at me. I get a beer from the bartender, putting it on the boys' tab and head out the doors to the small patio.
There's nobody out here so I choose a table on the far edge of the concrete slab, slightly hidden by some potted plants and take a seat. It's hot and even though I know it won't do anything for my thirst, I drink my beer fast. The bartender must have a sixth sense because he appears in front of me with a fresh drink almost immediately after I finish my first. I give him a grateful smile and he winks in return before slowly walking back inside. I'm halfway done with my second drink when I hear the door open again. I think it's going to be the bartender again so imagine my surprise when I look up and see a tall guy in tight black skinny jeans and long curly hair.
"You have got to be fucking kidding me." He says with a shake of his head. He laughs but it's completely devoid of humor.
"Harry. What a wonderful surprise. Come join me won't you?" I tell him sarcastically.
"Oh really? That'd be ok? I mean your security blanket Liam isn't here for you to rub in my face." He says, his tone equally bitter.
"I wasn't rubbing him in your face, jackass. Everything I do does not revolve around you."
"Oh I'm pretty positive that's a total lie." He scoffs.
"How so?" I ask, curious to hear his reasoning.
"Well for starters, there was that wicked little grin on your face earlier."
"Earlier? Like when you guys barged in on Liam and I?" I ask and he nods. "Sorry. I tend to smile after I've just had hot sex with my boyfriend."
"Ok. Use that excuse. What about what you're wearing? I know you put on that outfit today thinking 'Hmm how can I torture Harry some more today?'"
"My outfit is torturing you?" I ask, not hiding my laughter.
"Don't play dumb. You're too smart for that. You know what you're doing."
"And what exactly am I doing?"
"Flaunting yourself. The legs. The boobs. You want to see me struggle to keep my eyes off you." He admits, shaking his head and sitting down on the chair next to me and taking a long pull from his own beer. He looks exhausted.
"It's hot outside. I'm dressing for the weather. Don't flatter yourself. Besides, who was the one flaunting themselves this morning?"
"I knew you were looking." He says with a self-satisfied smirk.
"Yes Harry. You're hot. There's no denying it. I have eyes. But that doesn't mean I have feelings for you."
"I still don't believe you." He says stubbornly.
