The Art Of Losing (One Direction) PARTIALLY RE-WRITTEN!

The Art Of Losing (One Direction)

Chapter one

 Darcy Alice Russo

It’s not that Liam wasn’t nice; I mean he was, it was the fact that he most definitely didn’t remember me. It tore me apart. Although I couldn’t blame him. I mean, who was going to remember a one night stand from three months ago?

That’s right. Three months ago, I indulged in a harmless night of utterly cliché fun, with my History teacher. Well, he wasn’t my teacher back then. He was just a customer at the Jazz bar I happened to play at. We met in the tackiest way imaginable.

Our eyes met across the room, locking our gaze. What a mighty fine man. I smiled at him before playing my solo. My eyes stayed on him the whole time I played, not leaving for a second.

“Mr SexyPants in booth four” Wendy nudged my shoulder as she put away her trumpet. I looked up and counted the booths. Yep, the guy from earlier was sitting in booth four, drink in hand, smirk on his handsome face. He winked at me. He freaking winked at me!

I smiled back, turning and placing my saxophone back in its case.

“Darcy” Wendy nudged my shoulder again. “Mr SexyPants wants you over at his table” she wiggled her eyebrows. I glanced over to see him motion me over there.

“Get in there!” Wendy exclaimed, slapping my behind and pushing me down the stairs of the stage.

“Erm… Hi” I said when I sat down opposite of him.

“Hey” his voice was so low and husky that it gave me shivers. “I’m Liam” he held his hand out to me.

“Alice” I said, using my middle name. I placed my hand in his, his soft lips brushing over my knuckles.

“So, I’ll just get to the point” he let out a breath before continuing. “I saw you up there and you look… wow. You’re beautiful…” he trailed off.

“Thank you… you’re not so bad yourself” I replied, biting my lip.

“Would you like a drink?” he asked me, placing a hand on my thigh.

“Lemon Ruski…” I managed to say.

*Half an Hour Later*

“Liam…” I stretched the word out.

“Yeah?”

“I know what you’re trying to do” I said pointedly.

“Y-you do?” he stuttered.

“You’re trying to get me into bed with you” I said smartly.

“Listen-“

“I think it’s a good idea” I cut him off, getting up and walking over to him.

“What?” he asked. I didn’t answer. Instead, I sat on his lap, forcing my lips to his. His lips were soft, and he tasted of vodka and strawberries. He placed his hands on my hip, running his tongue over my lower lip. I snaked my hands under his shirt, feeling each and every contour of his muscles.

“Wanna get out of here?” he whispered in my ear.

“Miss Russo, pay attention!” the teacher scolded me.

“Yes, sir” I replied, blinking a few times.

Liam Payne has been my History teacher for three weeks now, and as far as I’m sure, he doesn’t remember who I am… or having sex with me. I’m not even sure if I want him to know it was me, but I knew he was… I didn’t have words to describe him. Every inch of his body made me want to go insane.  His eyes, the way he smiled, or bit his lip. Or the face he made when he was frustrated.