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Elle Acerman is one of very few female paparazzi’s in L.A. Harry Styles is a world famous musician. When she sets her sights on him, she can’t help but develop a massive crush on him. He’s tall, dark and handsome, and a genuinely nice guy. When Elle’s agent pressures her into getting a story out of Harry Styles or leaving him alone for good, Elle works up the nerve to ask him what everyone in the world wants to know – is he gay? Not long after, the two begin a secret affair, but nothing in Hollywood stays secret for long. When some racy photos of them leak to the media, Harry and Elle are left questioning each other. How well do they really know one another? In the end, will they be able to survive a sex scandal?

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10. 10

“Can I stay with you in this bed all day long?” Harry sighed, his sleepiness still making his voice all croaky.

“I wish you could,” Elle sighed, letting him pull her into his arms.

“Why can’t I?” He asked, pulling back to look in her eyes.

“I don’t know. You’re a busy dude.” She shrugged. It was always him that had somewhere to be. It was always him running off to the studio or to a meeting or to hang out with another friend.

“I’m wide open,” he told her with a smile, kissing her lips quickly.

“You have nothing going on today?” She asked him, shock apparent in her voice.

“Nada.” He smiled.

“Wow,” she said, exaggerating the word and he laughed out loud.

“I know, I know.” He chuckled.

“You are like, the busiest guy on the planet. Do you really not have any plans today?” Elle asked, her stomach tying in knots with excitement. Harry smirked and rolled his body on top of hers.

“My only plans are to kiss every inch of your body,” he said, starting with her lips. Elle moaned into his kisses as his hand trailed up her sensitive side.

Spending the day in bed with Harry certainly had its advantages.

 

 

“I’m gonna have to start leaving a toothbrush here.” Harry smirked at her as they both stood in front of her bathroom mirror all wet from their shower, wrapped only in towels – Harry’s towel hanging dangerously low on his hips.

Her excitement because of his words was overwhelming. He wanted to leave a toothbrush at her apartment. Toothbrush at the apartment didn’t necessarily mean commitment, but it was definitely something.

“So, whaddya wanna do today?” Harry asked, wrapping his arms around her from behind, his left hand going inside the open side of her towel.

“You mean, now that we finally got out of bed?” She snickered, thinking of how they spent all morning and a majority of the afternoon playing around between the sheets.

“I wish I could take you out,” Harry said with sigh as he pulled away from her.

“And for that, I wish you weren’t famous,” she said, looking at him through the mirror as she put her toothbrush in her mouth to brush her teeth. He gave her a frown as he grabbed up her bottle of mouthwash and took a swig.

“We can find things to do here,” she said through her mouthful.

“Mm-hmm,” he hummed as he gargled.

After a little swooshing, Harry spit out the mouthwash and eyed her through the mirror.

“What?” She mumbled through her mouthful.

“Would it be so bad though?” He asked.

“What?” Elle asked again.

“Being seen with me,” he said. Her eyes widened with his words and she quickly spit out the toothpaste in the sink, wiping her mouth.

“Harry,” she breathed, turning to look at him.

“I know, I know. We’ve talked about this, but it’s just like, I don’t know. I like being here with you and I like having you at my place. But I feel like we’re just cooped up. And sometimes I just really want to take you out,” he told her with a shrug.

He was the sweetest fucking thing. Elle could have fallen at his feet. He was amazing. But that was a place she was not ready to go yet. She was not ready to be that girl.

“You’re absolutely adorable, you know that,” Elle said, smirking at him, sticking her toothbrush in her mouth again.

“But your standpoint doesn’t change?” He asked.

“I just… Harry…” She sighed, looking at him through the mirror again.

“I just feel like maybe we’re getting stifled.” He shrugged.

“Stifled? What do you mean?” She asked, turning to him once again.

“Like, I don’t know. We’re so compatible here… in bed. Like, I just feel like we haven’t gotten the opportunity to explore each other outside of that,” he explained, looking into her eyes with his wide perfect green orbs.

“And we need to do that in public?” She questioned.

“Well, no. But I just think we’re not making the most out of this,” he said, scrunching his mouth up.

“The most out of what?” She asked, wanting him to say it – to admit out loud that he wanted more with her, more than just sex.

“The most out of this, out of us,” he told her.

“Us?” She asked.

“Yeah, us. You and me. Us. Here and now,” he elaborated.

“I think that the ‘us’ you’re referring to is finding no difficulty in getting to know each other outside of the bed, Harry. I think you’re worrying for nothing,” Elle told him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders.

He sighed, seemingly disappointed with her answer.

“If it makes you feel any better, we can completely stay away from the bed – from sex. I mean, if you want to get to know each other better in other ways.” She smirked at him.

“Well, now. I didn’t say that.” He smirked back at her, looking into her eyes.

“That’s what I thought,” she snickered, leaving a kiss on his lips.

He was adorable. And a part of her couldn’t help but think, “he’s all mine”.

 

 

Elle really needed to get her shit together. Kate was going to have her head if she didn’t get something she could work with. What kind of paparazzi was she if she never went out, if she never got the money shot?

She told herself that even if Harry came to her doorstep and dropped down on one knee proposing marriage to her, she was still going to go out and find some gossip. Luckily for her, she knew Harry was out with some friends and wouldn’t be popping by at any point. So she dressed and made her way out to where she knew a shit load of celebrities would be – an L.A. Lakers game.

Everyone was there from David Beckham to Leonardo DiCaprio to the Kardashian’s. But Elle’s eyes fixated on the one little bastard who brought her gold before – Justin Bieber. He sat front row with his little singer girlfriend, Selena Gomez.

Elle sat waiting in the stands, watching the game, even though she hated basketball and organized sports altogether. Just before the game got out, she made her way over to the side that Fields was on and followed him out, hoping for something good.

But unfortunately for her, once they broke through the doors leading outside of the venue, there were already a slew of cameramen and fans bombarding them with pictures. Elle was pushed back into the middle of the group as a group of fanatics jumped at him to get pictures. That’s when his security team and the security at the venue jumped in and pushed everyone back once again probably more violently then they should have. Elle fell back into the person behind her. And the guy having absolutely no decency at all, let her fall to the ground, not even bothering to catch her or help her up. Her camera scattered from her arms and landed on the ground amongst the chaos.

The panic set in immediately. Her camera! That thing was her life and she’d be out a shitload of money if she couldn’t find it. After a few moments of searching on her hands and knees in the crowd, when she thought she’d never find it, a hand came through holding up the camera to her. She was flooded with relief as she grabbed it and pulled herself to her feet.

“Be more careful next time,” a husky, deep voice said, just as she was about to look down at the camera and survey the damage.

Elle looked up to see Lorenzo and her eyes when wide. He was almost sneering at her, and she couldn’t be certain, but she was pretty sure he was the one who handed her the camera. She couldn’t believe it.

“Thanks,” she squeaked out, appreciating his haphazard assistance. He nodded once and then turned, disappearing into the crowd.

Elle felt shell-shocked, unable to comprehend what the hell just happened. She realized she just needed to chalk the whole night up to a loss and go home. That’s all there was to it. Though Kate was going to kill her and she knew it. She got absolutely nothing. She got a few shitty pictures of scattered celebrities watching a basketball game, but no money shot. No dirty deeds captured. Nothing. Nada. Zilch. And she nearly lost her camera in the whole mess. Shit wasn’t coming easily for her these days.

 

 

As Elle went to grab her memory card out of the camera once she got home, she froze looking at the piece of equipment. Her heart leapt into her throat. This was not her camera. The Canon logo stared her right in the face. She owned a Nikon.

Oh, god.

Elle couldn’t breathe as the panic built up faster and faster in her chest. Her camera. The tears welled in her eyes knowing she didn’t have the money to replace it. But it wasn’t until it all hit her with crippling realization, that she felt sick to her stomach with regret – her camera was filled with those pictures. She didn’t delete them like she meant to.

Her tears streamed down her face as she sat there paralyzed. What the hell was she going to do? What the hell could she do?

 

 

“Harry,” Elle breathed into her phone after sitting in deafening silence for what felt like forever.

“Elle? Are you okay?” Harry asked immediately, noticing the despondent tone in her voice.

“My camera is gone,” she breathed lowly into the receiver as the anxiety spread like wildfire through her. Harry was never going to forgive her.

“What do you mean your camera is gone?” Harry asked confused.

“It was taken,” she said, unable to really find the words to explain the situation.

“Elle, what do you mean?” He asked again, his voice growing more and more concerned.

“Can you come over? I need you to come over,” she told him, feeling the anxiety swelling to an unbearable extreme inside of her.

“I uh… yeah. I can come over,” he said, hesitating slightly.

“Okay,” she breathed, knowing that it was going to get very unpleasant when he found out just what was taken along with the camera.

She was in deep shit as far as he was concerned. And he was in deep shit as far as his reputation was concerned.

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