how you get the boy

eight

Harry wasn't lying when he said that he wasn't one to kiss and tell because four days had passed since the unbelievably good snog we shared on my bed and not a single soul had come to know about it. Not even Niall Horan, the one bloke who knew just about everything that happened in everyone's lives.

If I had to be completely honest, I was amazed that Harry managed to keep his mouth shut this long. But then again, I should've known better, should've given him the benefit of the doubt because despite what he'd been telling me or how he'd been treating me, he did keep this whole Louis thing a secret. Which was how I came to a conclusion that maybe, just maybe, I could trust Harry. At least more than I could believe in Niall, which wasn't that much.

Perhaps it wasn't him that I should be worrying about in the first place, for whereas Harry actually admitted that he wasn't the type to kiss and tell, I was, sadly, quite the opposite.

"No bloody way," Shiloh's eyes bulged from her head and she dropped the fork she was holding so she could slap a hand over her gaping mouth.

I'd done such a brilliant job at biting my tongue in order to prevent myself from mentioning the kiss to Shiloh for the past three days, but somehow on the fourth day, whilst having lunch with her at the café she found fifteen minutes away from UCL, I accidentally told her that Harry and I might or might not have snogged a few nights ago. Though it felt good to get something off of my chest, that didn't mean I didn't regret it the second the words tumbled out of my mouth before I had the time to stop them.

"Yeah, bloody way." I muttered, picking at the salad Shiloh had ordered for me. She'd been trying to get me into this whole eating healthy routine and so far, I didn't like it. Besides, I was sure that in about one hour, I would be hungry once more, which would undoubtedly lead to me eating more.

"I can't believe it." Shiloh stated, keeping her eyes fixed on my face like she was trying to figure out whether I was telling her the truth or not. Clearly, I was because this wasn't something I would make up.

"Neither could I," I sighed as I took a sip of the iced tea, playing with the straw to avoid looking straight into Shiloh's green eyes that were sparkling with delight.

Telling her about the kiss wasn't exactly the wisest thing I'd done, but I couldn't keep it to myself any longer. I was on the brink of exploding if I kept my mouth shut for another day and since Shiloh seemed like the only person I could trust at the moment, I told her. As a matter of fact, she was the only person I could trust who wouldn't go around selling this story to anyone that we knew.

"S'he a good kisser?" Shiloh inquired nosily, placing her elbow on top of the table and staring at me intently as she waited for me to reply her million-dollar question.

The question caused the thought of his lips to invade my mind and I closed my eyes as I threw my head back, letting out a groan, hating myself for saying what I was about to say next. "Yes, Shi. He's a bloody good kisser."

"Shit," slipped past her mouth before she could stop it and she scratched the side of her face out of embarrassment when I shot her a questioning look. "I mean, I could tell that he is a good kisser judging by his lips, but to find out that I'm right.. Shit. Tee, you're one hell of a lucky girl."

"No, I'm not," I snorted and Shiloh kicked my shin, eliciting a quiet groan from me. Clearing my throat, I tried pushing the thought of his lips to the very back of my mind and looked around the quaint café, afraid that someone might have overheard our conversation. "Don't tell anyone 'bout this, yeah?"