Perfect | Harry Styles

Chapter Nine

I gulped down half the pitcher of beer trying to get the taste of Harry's stolen kiss out of my mouth. As my inhibitions faded, they were slowly replaced by a familiar and warm fuzziness. Harry's friends still hadn't arrived and the pubhouse was getting packed by the minute. Even Louis and Natalia showed up and were cuddled up in an adjacent booth having a very public display of affection. His hand was just under the hem of her mini-skirt and she couldn't stop giggling. As my mind flashed back to Harry gripping my waist, I downed another glass of beer.

Beau brought out a pizza that Harry was certain his friends wanted and was also kind enough to refill our pitcher. After finishing my pretzels and beer cheese, I dove in.

"You're actually eating the pepperoni."

"Mhm," I picked one from my slice and placed it between my teeth.

"C'mere," Harry patted the empty space next to him.

My heart fluttered. We still hadn't talked about the kiss. Although his physical affection wasn't new to me, the passion that he lent to it was. The unbridled way he pulled me near him wasn't like one of his playful bear hugs I was used to. I know he meant this but I really needed him to tell me why.

I slid over next to him and noticed two men sitting down to take my former space on the other side. I gave them the one over and they couldn't be more opposite from each other. The blond's Irish accent made him sound cheerier than he looked. The other, a brooding and dark mysterious character, had inky black hair that was combed back into a messy pompadour. One chunky strand hung over down his forehead. I couldn't read his energy, but he seemed to have a gentle spirit.

I sipped another glass of beer as we all buzzed about in conversation. My eyes darted between the three men and realized Natalia was right. Harry's friends were as fine as him. The Irish one, who I learned was named Niall, ordered a second round of whiskey shots for the table. I didn't remember the first. My head grew heavy, and I leaned on Harry's shoulder while he laughed at some joke I felt like someone had told for the third time. The room wasn't quite spinning yet, but I knew that if I didn't try to regroup myself, it would be.

"You alright, El?" Harry asked me. I felt his hand on my thigh and it sent a shockwave through me. I shuddered and everything that was wound tight in me became loose. I shouldn't drink like this anymore.

"Well look who showed up," I heard a female voice.

My eyes were still closed and laying on Harry's shoulder. His hand that was idly tracing shapes on my knee suddenly stopped.

"Are you going to introduce your friends to me?" she said, her voice pointed and sharp.

I opened my eyes and Christa was glaring directly at me, her face just out of focus. Her icy blonde hair, now dyed pink at the tips, hung in a bob just touching her shoulders. Harry remained stoically quiet. His hand never left my body. The dark haired one, who I finally remembered was named Zayn, offered Christa a shot. She declined and never took her eyes off of Harry.

"Can I talk to you, Harry?"

"He doesn't wanna talk to you," I quickly interjected before snapping my hand up to mouth to keep quiet.

Niall and Zayn bellowed. Christa, unamused, let out a sound of disgust.

"I just want one minute," she pleaded.

"I wanna dance anyway," I wiggled in the seat. I could feel every inch of my body pulsing. I brushed my hips against Harry to get him to stand up.

"I don't think that's a good idea," he muttered.

"I wanna dance, Haz," I crashed into him a little more forcefully causing him to pop up out of his seat.