His American Rebel (One Direction & Harry Styles)

Chapter 2

I had exactly twenty minutes until Uncle Simon arrived with the boys in tow. I decided that it wasn't worth my time to tidy up, and instead made myself lunch. I was still wrapped up in my towel, eating my sandwich, when the door bell rang. My eyes grew wide as I saw that they were ten minutes early. I held onto the towel tightly, and I approached the door. When I opened it, I didn't find Simon with five boys, instead I just found one boy. The boy that I wanted to see the least.

"What are you doing here?" I asked in a slightly annoyed tone. He didn't answer but instead walked past me and into the living room. "Hey, I asked you a question!" He sat down in the lounge chair where Simon had sat not even two hours ago.

"Simon told me to meet him here," he replied as he eyed my body that was covered by only a small towel. He smirked and asked, "Do you even remember dancing with me last night?"

I glared at him, just staring. I huffed and spun around and trudged down the hall to my room. I let the towel fall from my body the moment I slammed the door shut. I went to my dresser and pulled out black lace underwear. I stepped into the thong and slid the bra on. I rummaged through my closet and found dark wash skinny jeans and a white top v-neck that would give me the perfect casual look for today. I quickly pulled on the jeans and shirt, and grabbed my red and white polka-dotted cork wedges. I walked out of my room to return to the living room, and I found Harry on the phone.

"Well, she going to wanna talk to you about it," he told whoever was on the other end of the phone call. "Yeah, sure. She's right here." He handed the phone over to me, and I saw that the caller id said "Simon Cowell". I placed the phone up to my ear.

"Yeah?" I asked, waiting to hear what Uncle Simon had to tell me.

"Have fun on your date, dear." I took a while for his words to finally sink in, but once they did I panicked.

"No, no, no! I will not go out with him, Simon. I refuse to!" I all but yelled into the phone.

"Do you really want to come to London, Rachel?" I sighed. He had something to hold over me. He knew how much I wanted to stay in the United States to continue working on my career. I had several movies that were going to begin filming in the next month, and I didn't want to have to back out now. Also, there was the premiere for "Seriousness" next week that I couldn't miss.

"Fine, I'll go on the fucking date. Anything else, Master?" I asked sarcastically.

"Yes, actually," he said, and I frowned. "Make sure to make it believable. Hold hands, hug, laugh, and-"

"Please don't say it," I begged as I interupted him.

"-kiss him. Trust me, Rachel. Thsi will make your career better too." He didn't sound reassuring, but I had to go along with it, or else I would be on the first flight to London.

"Fine, but only once." I hung up before he could say anything else, and I tossed the phone back to Harry. He put it back in his pocket, and then he returned his gaze back to me to look me up and down again.

"Disappointed at the amount of clothing this time?" I asked sarcastically. He frowned.

"No, but I think you should change," he suggested. I looked at him in disbelief.

"Why?" I was beginning to grow more and more angry with him, and him saying that I should change wasn't helping. He looked down, and I calmed down once I realized why he had suggested the clothing change. Our outfits were almost identical. He had on dark jeans and a white v-neck under his blazer. "Oh, well. The press will just eat it up," I said as I put my shoes on and secured them around my ankles. "Did you see any paparazzi outside when you got here?"