in which joelle d'amore is completing her final semester of university in the grand city of los angeles, california. when she finds herself in the presence of harry styles, a piercing man with dangerous agendas, she is permeated with fear. she saw s...
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I don't want to look at him. I'm sitting in the passenger's seat of his car and I'm looking out at the passing streets to avoid him at all costs.
He's so mean.
But everybody seems to be mean these days. Whatever happened to kindness? I don't know.
I hate to think I live in a world where the stubborn man involved in an illicit business beside me is right. I do need to learn how to stick up for myself, but maybe I need to learn how to be less sensitive first. I sigh to myself, keeping my arms crossed against my chest when we don't seem to be approaching my apartment yet.
"What are you huffing and sighing about over there?" Harry breaks our silence.
I was hoping he'd remain silent after how he treated me at his place. I roll my eyes out of habit because I'm annoyed.
"Did you just fucking roll your eyes at me?"
The same anxious feeling I get when I'm called out runs through me. I look at him. His fingers filled with rings brush across his chin as his elbow rests in the console between us. His left hand remains on the steering wheel as he cuts lanes carelessly. C'mon Jo. "Yeah, what about it?"
Please, don't say something mean in return.
Harry gives me a smug grin. He pulls his hand away from his chin only to crack each knuckle in the fist it's in. "Unless I'm fucking the life out of you, don't roll your eyes at me again, D'Amore."
Oh.
I let out a breath, a frustrated one. Not because I'm sexually frustrated—which I'm not—but because he's so damn impossible. I want to pull my fucking hair out. I only huff and look out the window again. "That'll never happen," I let myself mumble.
"What? Me fucking the life out of you?" I can sense the smirk on his face. I don't have to look.
When I don't say anything, he continues, "Because I clearly remember you coming to my shop last night for a fuck."
I snap my head towards him. "I-I didn't come to your shop for that," I defend. I cannot let him roam the streets thinking I only went to see him to have sex with him.
Not when he has slept with August.
"No? Then why did you come?" He raises an eyebrow at me. "You were practically begging for me to fuck you. Don't lie."
"I-I'm not lying," I say, uncrossing my arms as my breathing wants to increase all over again. "I meant it when I told you I came to see you because I had nowhere else to go. I thought that maybe we could be friends after our walk-"
He scoffs, interrupting what I had to say. "That's bull. Why the fuck would I be your friend?"
I frown at him. "Don't worry... I know now that you aren't capable of being a friend to anyone." Yeah, maybe that'll hurt him.
