Illicit [Harry Styles]

Chapter 38

Shortly after using all of my willpower and letting Harry get dressed, he joined me on the bed laying on his back and staring at the ceiling with a huff. I was on my front, holding up my top half on my elbows as I browsed my phone, that aching feeling you get when you've been laying on your stomach for too long ever present.

After a little while of silence he rolled onto his side and deliberately stared at me, observing and taking in my entirety which I could see him doing out of the corner of my eye. When I still didn't take any notice of him he shuffled closer and decided to invade my personal space by nuzzling his face into me in the hopes of getting some attention.

I glanced sideways at him with an unamused facial expression clearly displayed, to which he tried his best to suppress a grin. He was behaving like a puppy that wanted to be shown affection. Ignoring him still, I turned my attention back to my phone screen and scrolled absentmindedly through my Twitter feed as though I might see something of interest for once.

"Why are you ignoring me? Do I need to take my clothes off again to get a reaction from you?" he muttered against my arm.

I rolled my eyes in response, "There will be no taking off of clothes."

"Shame..."

As awful as it was, I was enjoying feeling like I had some kind of power over him after he'd come chasing after me and actually opened up about not wanting to lose me. I was definitely using this to my advantage, for once being able to get away with just about anything and feeling much too cocky for my own good. Harry was treading lightly to make sure he didn't upset me, and I felt like I could have him fanning me with leaves and feeding me grapes in no time.

"Can we do something? Anything? I'm bored of laying here and watching you be just as bored as me — which I know you are, by the way."

"What do you suggest?"

"I have a whole room filled with shít we can do," he reminded me. I'd forgotten Harry was rich as hell and didn't have to do normal things like suffer boredom because of lack of things to do. Suddenly he sat himself up and grabbed my wrist, pulling me behind him as he got up and we headed to the room I believed would be any fifteen year old boy's dream.

"Oh, hello Jessica," Harry's mum — Louise — was plodding up the stairs as we left his room, and Harry did that typical guy thing where they're embarrassed by their mothers being in the same room as them when they have company over, attempting to drag me away quickly.

"Hi," I said sweetly, smiling and digging my heels into the landing carpet so that I could stop and chat to her against Harry's will.

"I was just coming up to ask you what you wanted for dinner, Harry. Jessica, will you be staying to eat with us? I can make plenty of whatever you decide on — it's no hassle."

"That would be lovely, thank you," I obliged cheerily, noticing Harry's state of discomfort next to me and wanting to practically leap up into the air at how he wasn't even going to try and be grumpy and convince me not to stay because of our current situation.

"Great. So, what would you two like?"

I thought it was quite unusual that his mum based her whole plan for dinner on what Harry wanted; in my house we'd come downstairs when called and eat whatever was put in front of us, but I guess it's different being a spoilt only child.

"I don't mind, whatever," Harry mumbled, his hand subtly tugging at mine to try and get me into his games room and out of this encounter. He winced when I tightened my grip on his fingers to tell him silently to stop being rude.

Louise scoffed playfully at her son's indecisive nature and pondered for a moment. "What about a casserole? Jess, do you like casserole?"

I nodded happily back at her, "Yeah, that sounds nice."