Head Over Heels (One Direction Fic)

Chapter 9

Harry pulled away and looked down at me, “how drunk are you now?” he asked hesitantly.

“My answer stands,” I whispered as I pressed my lips to his again.

Well I can tell you one thing; his lips were just as soft as they had looked the night before. I was just drunk enough that my lips were tingling a little bit, but also sober enough to know what I was doing, and I was perfectly okay with it.

I felt his tongue brush against mine and slowly pulled away keeping my eyes closed for a minute before looking up and meeting his eyes. “I’m still not sleeping with you.”

“Right right saving yourself,” he smirked.

I looked at him skeptically, “where would you get that idea?”

“You said it yourself. The white dress, the cotillion, it’s supposed to symbolize innocence or something?”

I let out a laugh, “and then I pointed out the girl who’d had a baby. I was pointing out how stupid it was. Just because I won’t sleep with you, you automatically think I’ve never slept with anyone?”

Harry’s cheeks began to redden, “No, that’s not what I meant. I mean…I wasn’t..” he stuttered.

I patted his chest smiling, “I just don’t know where all your stuff,” I motioned towards his crotch, “has been. Don’t want to take any risks. I’ll see you tomorrow if you stop by with Niall before you leave.” I shot him a wink before turning around and slipping my key in the door. I turned the knob and paused spinning to face him again, “and Harry?”

He looked down at me,  “yeah?”

I kissed him quickly on the cheek, “thanks for tonight.” I smiled at his surprised expression and walked into my room. My smile faded when I noticed the dress on the floor. Gross. But right now, I wasn’t going to deal with that. I was going to sleep because god knows with my night in LA with One Direction, and my night of Fight Club Harry Styles edition; sleep is exactly what I needed. I laid down on the bed, which felt like heaven by the way, and I was passed out within seconds.

I woke up the next morning to a shrill ringing in my ear. God what was my ring tone, and why had I never bothered to change it? Shit. Brunch. I had brunch scheduled with my parents, and I was almost positive that this call was going to be my mother screaming at me. Suddenly the ring tone seemed like a nice alternative to hearing the screeching of my mother telling me how much of a disappointment I was, yet again. .

I rolled over picking up the phone and looking at the screen. To my surprise the illuminated name did not read “mommy dearest.” Instead it was a number that I didn’t recognize with an area code that wasn’t mine. I am happy to report, however, that I was not in fact late for brunch. I cleared my throat so I didn’t sound groggy and answered the phone, “hello?”

“Hello, may I please speak to Anna Smith please?”

I scrunched my eyebrow in confusion, this sounded official. “This is she. Who’s calling?” I asked in the most professional voice I could muster at the early hour of 9:30 in the morning.