𝐂𝐑𝐀𝐙𝐘 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓! | harry styles

𝐗𝐈𝐈

FUCK.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck FUCK FUCK fuck fuck FUCK.

I don't know what to do so I do the stupidest thing imaginable. I hang up.

My heart is beating straight out of my chest, across the floor and jumping ship out the window. Dropping the phone on the bed, I grab two handfuls of hair and hold my breath.

I stare at the phone like it's going to morph into Mayor Castillo himself and wait for the end of my life.

Fuck fuck fuck FUCK!

My mind is a complete blank as I stand there, in the place where I do unimaginable things to his daughter. This is probably the first time my dick hasn't been hard thinking about what I do to her.

Grabbing the phone back up, I sit on the edge of the bed and go into damage control. I didn't confirm it was me. As far as I know, Evelyn has ProFitness as my name in her phone. I can deny deny deny.

Unless my girl fucked up and my name flashed across the screen in giant neon green letters.

HARRY

HARRY STYLES

COACH STYLES

THE GUY THAT FUCKS ME THAT REALLY SHOULDN'T CAUSE MY DADDY WILL KILL HIM

The phone rings in my hand, Chase Bank lighting up and I drop it to the floor like it's a hot iron. I can't answer it. Can I pretend to be the gym? Before I can figure it out, it stops, and I realize something big.

It's just gone to voicemail. My outgoing message clearly stating that I am me has quite possibly just played in Mayor Castillo's ear.

Suddenly I'm desperate to get out of the cabin and go home, take Lydia out to dinner for a few reasons. One, to get her out of the house if Mayor Castillo shows up, and two, to piece together an alibi.

As I drive I find one of Evelyn's half smoked cigarettes in the ashtray and light up, trying to calm myself down.

Nothing happened. He knows nothing. He's already forgotten about it and is in some random town meeting in his stuffy home office.

But then I think, WHY did he answer? Maybe she's sick? Maybe she was in an accident? Oh god, what if that fuck Sullivan hurt her and she called her dad bleeding and crying to come get her at his house?

When did I start panicking like a chick? Oh right, when I became crazy like that.

I take two more puffs, the butt so short it burns my lips, but I don't care. I toss the rest out the window when I get closer to the rental, looking left and right for the Mayor's Lexus.

Running quick up the steps when I don't see any sign of him, I burst through the front door to a startled looking Lydia. "Harry! What is it? Are you okay? You're sweating and out of breath."

Realizing I probably look exactly how I feel, I pat my hand across my hair and smile, trying to ooze nothing but 'all is right in my world' vibes. "Nothing, just the obstacle course. Come on, let's go have that dinner."

She closes the bride magazine that's been mocking me from the coffee table all week. "Don't you want to shower?"

"No, I'm starving. I'm fine."

"At least change your shirt." I look down at my gray Henley, sweat showing on the collar and under the arms and agree.

Fifty seconds later, I'm hustling her out the door. I quickly glance for signs I'm about to be gunned down and see none, so we set off to her favorite restaurant, twenty minutes away.