My Bestfriend, Harry Styles

Chapter 15

Tara's POV:

"Wake up! There's a fucking fire Tara!"

Yes ladies and gentlemen. That is what I woke up to this morning.

Jumping out of bed, in my panic the safest solution seemed to be to jump on Harry. He solves everything. A second later we thud to the floor in a messy pile.

"Shit reactions Tar baby. If there'd actually been a fire, you just took out the only other survivor." He mumbled casually into my stomach that was plastered oh so gracefully over his face.

"There's no fire?" I grumble, annoyed.

"No, but damn it got you up right?"

"It also gets you this!" and proceed to punch him. Hard.

So yes. Don't be too surprised if you think that I'm acting a little out of sorts. Fortunately for him, I hadn't aimed for the face, knowing that the paps would have a hell of a story to bring out, but instead aimed for the gloriously rock hard abs he sports, winding him.

"Did you have to do that..." Harry whines next to me as we stroll down the street in search of a cafe. He's still limping slightly, clutching his stomach, rubbing it every now and then.

"Yes I did. Grow a pair. You should know better than to wake me in the mornings!" I scowl angrily at him. He'd had no problems after yesterdays sulky behaviour, reverting to his usual annoying self. It wasn't earning him any favours in the sex department, but it was sure as hell nice to just chat to him like we used to.

"Excuse me miss?" a polite voice interrupted my thoughts.

"Yes." I turned my face around to face a broad shouldered man holding a leaflet out to me.

"Ever considered modelling?"

I laughed. It seemed like the only appropriate response to give him. "No offence or anything Tar..." Harry contributes, turning to the man, "but this kid gets nervous in a thigh high dress and heels. She'd be a shit model." I'd get angry at him if it weren't for the fact that he just repeated a gospel truth fact about me. I was awkward as hell with anyone who doesn't know me, unless I'm fucked. Drunk I mean...

"Just consider it?" the man smiled. I nodded and took the leaflet from him. Once we turned the corner I saw a pair of tangerines walking towards me. I pushed Harry back a bit and strolled up to them.

"What do you want?" Tangerine one asks.

"Ever considered being a model?" I thrust the leaflet into her hands.

"Oh my gosh yes! I know I can do it! I promise you can rely on me and-"

"Hey, I think I recognise you from somewhere...." Tangerine two interrupts... maybe she isn't as stupid as I first thought. Who do you think you are, stereotyping all tangerines! I scold myself lightly.

"Nope." I smile, "never seen you before in my life. There's a man with broad shoulders around the corner who wants to talk to you about it." I smile, before walking away meeting Harry at the other end.

"Bitch move to pull, Tar." Harry winks at me.

I let my mouth drop in faked shock horror. "What do you mean baby?" I pout. His eyes immediately drop to my lips, unconsciously licking his own. I try my hardest not to smirk. We haven't played this game in a while.... not since the hospital. Plan commence! "All girls are beautiful..." I trail off, allowing one hand to slip into his pocket and tap the top of his thigh. I watch him gulp before he blinks a couple of times, jumping away as if he'd been stung by a jellyfish. Well damn.

"Nice try Tar baby." He smirks, cockily folding his arms over his chest. I watch his biceps strain greedily, drinking up the sight of his temporarily enlargened tatoos littering his muscles. He smirks even more, catching my gaze and general drift of thoughts. He leans in close, gently shoving me against the wall of a building we were passing. "I bet I could get you to make the first move." he whispers into my ear.

I shove him lightly backwards, glaring at him as he chuckled lightly. "How much?" I demand.

His eyebrows raise slightly before he draws his mouth into a full blown grin. "A new dress. From wherever you want."

"With complimentary heels?" I push.

"Starting to think you only want me for my money baby." He winks. Pouting lightly I gaze up at him. "Fine. With complimentary heels. But I want a time limit of a month." He tries.

"No way!"

"What? Can't handle me for a month?" He winks.

"'Course I could."

"So what's the problem?" He shrugs innocently.

I growl under my breath. Dick. "Two weeks." I bargain.

"No heels then."

"Three weeks!" I cry desperately. He considers for a minute, finally rolling his eyes and conceding.

"Fine. I have three weeks to force you to make the first move, just to clarify, that will be you commencing the kiss. If I am wrong and you don't concede in the given time period, I'll buy you the dress. Agreed?"

I nod happily. "It's going to be that red one in French Connection!" I nearly shout elatedly.

"So I tell you that you can go to any shop, and instead you pick one that you could probably afford yourself?!" he asks outraged.

"You'll still be paying." I wink. "Makes no difference to me. You're going down Styles."

"Sure baby. But I think you underestimate me. I'm a smooth operator." He jokes, although the smile doesn't last for long as he has to save me from nearly collapsing on the floor. "It's not that funny." he grumbles. "I could do it!" This only causes me to laugh harder. He turns his back on me and storms ahead.

"Hey baby!" I call after him. He turns briefly, allowing him enough time to see me pointing smugly at the cafe I was standing outside. Laughing at him as he strolls inside the cafe, I can't help but shout out to the young and elderly people littering the cafe: "The smooth operator has entered the building!" I cackle, looking beautiful as always. Fire my ass. He had it coming.