Hold My Girl

Chapter 2

The next morning.

The sun was peeking through unfamiliar curtains as I reluctantly pulled my eyes open. I was far too warm, my mouth felt fuzzy and my head was pounding. I tried to turn onto my back when suddenly a body shifted behind me.

Fuck.

Memories of last night began to flood my mind as images of Harry fucking Styles danced around in my vision. Harry in a club. Harry dancing. Harry climbing over me in the back seat of a taxi. Harry in his fucking mansion of a house. Harry in his bed. Me in his bed.

I peek under the thick white duvet, being extra careful not to disturb his arm that is draped across my stomach. Yip naked. Fucking great. My naked state confirming my memories from last night. I clench my thighs together, a dull ache in my thighs confirming the memories too. Not that there was anything wrong with one night stands or casual sex. Just having sex with Harry Styles was not something I aspired to. Having sex with a freaking multimillionaire pop star was not part of my grand plans for my life. What if someone found out about this and suddenly I was hated by One Direction fans and journalists trawled my Facebook page all the way back to those cringey pictures of me in Magaluf circa 2008. That's the last thing I need in my life. I was quite happy, plodding my way through life. I had a decent job, a steady income, a roof over my head, enough friends that I still had a semi respectable social life and I still got on with my parents. I was happy in my life, I didn't need anything to change that.

I took a deep breathe. I need to get out of here before he wakes up and regrets last night, or worse: throws me out. I glance down towards the floor to see most of my clothes scattered across his sumptuous grey carpet. His house was totally different to what I would have guessed a multimillionaires house to be like. Although it was large, it still felt homey. It was filled with interesting artwork and cosy looking furniture. Yes there was signs of wealth, like the grand piano sitting at the bottom of the stairs. But it had a cosy, homely vibe to it. Something I wasn't expecting.

I sneak a peak at a sleeping Harry. He looks so peaceful as he lies on his front, his face turned towards me and soft snores accompanying his slow breathing. His lips are pouty and extremely kissable. Morning breath mixed with the urge to get the hell out of here means I resist the urge to press my lips to his. He looks adorable, his features relaxed as he sleeps peacefully. Unaware of my impending departure.

Slowly I drag my naked body across his soft-as-shit sheets, quickly scooting the pillow under Harry's arm. I freeze as he grunts and his arm twitches, pulling the pillow to his chest. For a second it gives me butterflies that in his sleepy state he's trying to pull me closer. Then I remember this was a one night stand and he probably doesn't even remember my name. As quick as a flash I pull on all the clothes that I can find. My bra is the only thing I can't find and I'm running out of time. Fuck it. I'll leave it. It was expensive and thankfully matched my pants I have on, but I'll just buy another. It'll be money well spent just to get the hell out of here. I grab my bag and slip out his bedroom door before I make any more noise. I glide quietly down the stairs staring at the art work that adorns the walls.

"Jesus, this place is magical" I mumble as I find my way back to the grand piano. I run a longing finger over the top before I unlock the front door and disappear from the house. The snib clicks as I pull it closed behind me. The cold autumn wind blowing my messy hair around my face. I didn't even look in a mirror before I left the house. God knows what I look like. Probably a disgrace and every single person I pass will know I'm doing the walk of shame. I pull my hair out of its bobble, attempt to scrap it back, tossing my head this way and that, trying to get it to play ball. I eventually knot it on top of my head and make my way down Harry's pebbled driveway towards the gate, which is a lot easier to get out than it is to get in. I remember giggling at Harry as he struggled to keep his hands off of me for long enough to punch the code in. I glance back at the white brick house, committing it to memory before I leave, promising never to return.