"No fucking way. I don't believe you."
I smirked, shrugging my shoulders. "It's true, you better believe it."
Zayn stared at me, mouth wide open, eyes wide, tone disbelieving. Louis just shook his head, chuckling, Niall seemed to be weighing up both sides of the argument, while Liam just sat with an amused smile on his face.
"There is no way that happened," Niall finally decided, shaking his head slowly, "It's just too much of a happy coincidence that you were both at the pool at the same time. I think you're making it up."
I held my hands up, laughing at the fact that they thought I wasn't capable, "I swear I'm telling the truth! What do I have to gain from lying?"
"Respect for tackling her in the pool," Zayn said.
I sighed, flopping back in the chair. If I was honest, I didn't care if they thought I was a liar - I had the memories myself, I knew it happened, so who cared you else knew or didn't? - but it was the fact that they actually thought I would make it up. I was not that sad.
"Whatever, I don't even care," I shrugged, buttering my toast. Niall and Zayn swapped disbelieving glances. Louis sniggered, nudging me. He knew it was true - he'd seen me sneaking into my bed afterwards, still wet from the pool, and I'd told him the entire story on the spot. Liam just didn't seem to care. Niall and Zayn, however, seemed to think that there was no way a girl like Tamara Gold would sleep with me more than once, and they were determined to drive me round the bend about.
"Ooh, speak of the devil!" Niall chuckled, as the one and only girl we'd been discussing strolled past a few metres away, a tray of breakfast in her arms, and sat down at a table behind me.
I smiled as I remembered last night. I let my eyes trail over her, the tight jeans she wore, and the pretty, red top that contrasted to her bright blonde hair.
"Go chat her up, if you two are so well acquainted," Zayn challenged, grinning playfully, "I dare you!"
I snorted, shaking my head, defying myself not to blush as I imagined actually having a civilised conversation with this girl. "We didn't do very much talking..."
The two of them laughed, and Niall started into me once again. "Oooh, are you chicken, Harry?" I hung my head as he began squawking like a bird.
"I am not!" I exclaimed, rubbing my eyes tiredly. I glanced over my shoulder to her, my heart pounding. I hated to admit it, but they were right. I could act like the big man in front of the boys...but the thought of approaching her made me feel sick. What would I even say? 'Oh hey there, it's me. Remember? The guy who banged you in the changing rooms last night and then left you on the verge of climax? Hope you had a good time finishing off...'
"Then go over, I dare you!" Zayn repeated. "Right, all you have to do is go over, sit down and tell her that your band mates won't believe you fucked her last night. Get her to write us a note saying she did. Then we'll leave you alone."
I glared at them, sighing. There was no way I could do that...my face got hot just thinking about it. I couldn't do it. There was no way I was making a fool out of myself in front of her. What would she think of me?
"I'm not doing that..." I murmured, taking a bite of my toast, unable to look at them.
They exploded with joy, taunting me loudly, gaining dirty looks from other tables. It was still early, and most of the other residents in the hotel were trying to enjoy their breakfasts without being interrupted by two members of a silly boy band chanting, "HARRY HAS NO BALLS!"
"Shut up," I grumbled, casting a quick glimpse over my shoulder. Oh, great, she was looking. My stomach turned to mush, instantly.
"Just do it, we'll never bother you again. Go on!"
