ripped jeans | hes

thirty six

thank you guys so so much for 82k! totally incredible to see how much you guys are enjoying my work !! i honestly cannot thank you guys enough for turning my little idea for a harry pic and desire to write and love for this fandom into this amazingly and increasingly growing work. writing 'ripped jeans' is so much fun and i have a few plot twists and some drama coming up...so be ready ;) you guys really are the best!

lets maybe get to 6k votes and 2k comments??? maybe?? but please read the note at the end of this chapter.. much love x -giiiiii

resfeber (noun) - the restless race in a travelers heart before the journey begins

"Hope you don't mind Lamonica's." Harry pulled into the parking lot of an upscale pizza restaurant 10 minutes away from campus. "I wanted to stay close to UCLA since I have to take you back."

"This is perfect." I assured him. "I like Lamonica's, I come here all the time with Mason."

"Mason? Who's that?" Harry asked curiously as he opened the car door for me.

"A good friend." I gripped Harry's shoulder for support as I jumped out of his Range Rover and onto the pavement.

I waited patiently on the sidewalk for Harry to lock the car and walk over to me. He placed a hand on the small of my back before leading me towards the entrance of the restaurant.

"Just a good friend? Anything more?"

"Mason is just a good friend, really. And you don't get to point fingers, mister," I rolled my eyes at him. "Especially considering you had a few 'special friends' yourself."

"No fingers were pointed, I believe you." Harry pushed open the door to the restaurant, holding it open so I could step inside. "And all my 'special friends' are gone."

"Oh really?"

"I told you it would only take a few texts."

"Right." I scoffed.

"What? I'm being honest."

"Mhmm." I hummed. "Just because you claim to have waved your magic wand around doesn't make everything okay. You were talking to three girls, Harry, you can't just...erase that fact."

"I know, but I'm trying." Harry cooly slipped his hand into the cutout on the back of my romper, the large palm of his cold hand pressing against my hot skin.

"God, you're hands are freezing cold," I shivered as Harry traced a small section of the curve of my spine with his thumb.

"I like this little cutout, you should wear this more often," Harry hummed into my ear.

"I'm glad you like it." I said sarcastically.

"Do you see the guys?"

"Over there." I pointed to a large booth in the back of the restaurant, where all the guys were sitting with a beautiful brunette. "Who's that girl?"

"Her name is Sophia," Harry said under his breath as we walked towards the booth, his hand still greedily sticking to my skin. "She's Liam's girlfriend. They've been dating for a while, maybe two years, give or take. They grew up in Wolverhampton together, but she lives in New York now, apparently working for Vogue or some shit like that."

"Vogue?" I almost choked. "What? She's a like, a model?"

"I'd imagine so, but I really couldn't tell you. I usually fall asleep whenever Liam rambles on about her," Harry chuckled. "But she's a great friend of mine, a true sweetheart. Please be nice to her, I know how heartless you can be sometimes with that rank attitude of yours."