Spilled Drinks

**SEQUEL TO 'THAT BRUNETTE AND ME' SO IF YOU HAVEN'T READ IT YET, GO READ IT NOW!**
Then I decided to see what people said about his personality. I guess that he's covered in tattoos, which I guess makes him some type of womanizer, according to the magazines I searched online. I glanced at him now, searching his face for any hardness or bitterness. I did find some, which frightened me. Who knows how violent he got when he didn't get what he wanted.

I definitely didn't want to see that side of him."

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5. Chapter Five

He raised his eyebrows, then stepped out of the car, his freakishly long legs extending out of the car as he stood up next to me and hooked his arm around my elbow. "Shall we, then?"

Damn it, I was hoping he'd stay in the car.

 

***

 

"Hello, and welcome to Jean Georges. Here is our entrée menu, and our drink menu. I will be back soon, so get your first order ready."

Our waiter was so obviously gay I literally imagined rainbows shooting out of his ass and could see him holding some sign up for a petition. Some sign along the lines of:

'If Being Gay Is So Bad, Why Did God Make Us So Attractive?'

 

Plus to add on to that, his hair was dyed a beach blonde with some dark roots showing, and his clothes were way too attractive and in style for him to be straight. There was absolutely no way he was ever seeing a girl.

"Are you checking that guy out?" Harry murmured to me, his eyebrows furrowed in some type of anger. Was that... jealousy? But why the fuck would Harry feel jealous? I wasn't even his to take. Plus, couldn't he tell the guy was gayer than Julie Andrews in 'The Sound Of Music'?

"Definitely not. Can't you tell he's gay?"

Harry just snickered, shaking his head. "I'm a man, I don't notice things like that."

I rolled my eyes, stirring my water casually by flicking my wrist around. Harry watched my movements carefully, which I took into consent. I tried to act like I didn't care that he was even there, but inside I was actually freaking out. I was, quite honestly, afraid of him. He'd acted mad, earlier.

Plus, to add on to that, I'd looked up his name on Google, and found out just how famous he actually was.

I mean, seriously, who in the world has thirteen million followers on Twitter alone? I didn't have a Twitter, anyways, so I guess I wouldn't know. Plus, to add on to that, I checked his Instagram. Holy shit- he had three million followers! I only had a little above fifty. And I was actually proud of that follower count.

Then I decided to see what people said about his personality. I guess that he's covered in tattoos, which I guess makes him some type of womanizer, according to the magazines I searched online. I glanced at him now, searching his face for any hardness or bitterness. I did find some, which frightened me. Who knows how violent he got when he didn't get what he wanted.

I definitely didn't want to see that side of him.

"What are you thinking about, Heather?"

Harry's voice intercepted my thoughts as his green eyes hovered just inches from my face. I flinched back in my seat, my heart pounding.

"W-what?" I stuttered, brushing my hair back to behind my ear. Harry reached forward and brushed the piece back into my face.

"Keep it like that; You look good like that."

I nodded, my hands frozen onto the edges of my chair. I needed to go settle myself, and I needed to right now. The only excuse I could think of shot out of my mouth before I could think it over.

"I have to go pee."

Wow. Classy, Heather. I should not speak before I think. Ever-fucking-again. Harry just snorted, pointing to the sign pointing to the women's bathroom. I nodded, my face and neck hot with the sudden blush I'd taken on. I hurried around tables, hoping he wasn't watching me. I took a quick peek as I turned the corner, horrified to find him staring right at my bum. I walked around the corner, gathering the last of my dignity.

I burst into the bathroom, hurrying into the stall. The toilet seats looked clean, so I closed the lid and sat down. I reached into my purse, grabbing my phone. I turned on the camera app, checking my hair and face. My cheeks were still as red as a cherry as I dabbed a bit of foundation on top of them, hoping to fade it a little bit. I put on a little more of my coral lipstick and popped my lips. I flushed the toilet so it didn't sound like I was just sitting there the whole time. Even though I was.

I stepped out of the stall, watching the other ladies around me spritz on perfume, put on makeup, and stare lustfully at their reflections. One lady looked at me funny, looking me up and down.

"Aren't you dressed just a bit slutty to be at a nice restarant like this?" she snickered, as the other women in the bathroom joined her. I felt my cheeks turn red once again. Damn you, Harry Styles.

"Or are you just somebodies hooker date tonight?"

That bitch is dead.

I calmed myself. I remembered that contract, I couldn't just brush it off as soon as I got it. I smiled wickedly at her, raising my eyebrows. I pulled out my expensive Chanel No. 9 perfume and sprayed it on me, dabbing some on my wrists.

"Actually, I'm here with someone a million times richer, and famous, than your little boy-toys." I informed them, brushing through my hair with my fingertips, not even looking them in the eye.

"Hmm, really? You probably can't even name him." She challenged, crossing her arms and cocking her hip. I turned around on my heels, grinning.

"Harry Styles."

She looked at me for a second, confused. She regained herself and put on a look that made my hands clench. "Prove it."

I nodded, stalking out of the bathroom. I felt their gazes follow me as they stepped out of the bathroom. I sat back in my seat, smiling icily at Harry.

"Back."

He smiled, taking my hand and kissing it. I was shocked; did he somehow know what happened in the bathroom? Or was I just crazy? He winked, his head gesturing a little behind him, to the ladies crowded out of the bathroom. The lady who challenged me was wide-mouthed. I smirked back, then landed my eyes back on Harry. Why was he playing along?

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