25 Days With Mr. Arrogant - A Harry Styles fanfiction

CHAPTER 8:

Paige was in an especially good mood the next morning, and when I shuffled tiredly into the kitchen, she was humming over a sizzling skillet of what smelled to be eggs and hash browns. She looked up and beamed when I slid woozily into my usual seat.

“Morning!” She sang, turning her back on me to continue pushing around the eggs and potatoes in the pan. “Hungry?”

I yawned against my hand and shook my head, “No. I’m okay, thanks.” There was a long moment of silence, and I felt the annoying question tugging at my thoughts. “Did you… have a nice night?”

She sighed, her shoulders slumping in content, and turned to flash her giddy smile in my direction. “Oh, yes,” She grinned. “I had a wonderful evening. Harry’s so…” She paused, her eyes twinkling. “…Just so great, you know? I can’t even explain it. He gives me the butterflies.”

I had to fight back a roll of the eye and instead nodded in feigned understanding. The truth was I didn’t know what the hell she was talking about. How did she see anything great in that man? Regardless, I continued to nod as if I could relate to her opinion on the despicable, vile, infuriating man I’d wanted to maul since the first moment I’d communicated with him. Still, as I sat there convincing myself otherwise, the image of his angry face so close to mine – his body practically molded to mine, in the hallway the prior evening, wouldn’t leave my mind. I frowned slightly, confusion still distorting my thoughts. I had no clue why he behaved that way, or why I reacted that way. I was slightly horrified with myself at the realization that I’d detected his breath, the scent of his skin, the feel of the smooth material of tight shirt against my skin. I’d done that sort of thing with Cole when we’d first started dating; the typical, flirtatious little details that many girls observed on males they were interested in.

I held back the urge to gag.

Harry? Me? Interested in him?

Hah.

“Alex?”

I glanced up, shaking my head slightly, “Sorry – what?”

“God,” She laughed lightly, rolling her eyes and turning the stove off. “You always space out. I was asking you what you think of him.”

“Of Harry?”

She paced over to the table with the handle of the skillet gripped tightly in her dainty little hand, and dumped the eggs onto her plate. “Mm,” She affirmed, situating herself in front of me. “I mean, I know you hardly know him – “ Oh, God, if she knew. If she knew the half of it. “But I mean, I want to know your impression of him.”

“You know what I think of him,” I replied dryly. “I think he’s a moron. He seems like an ass.”

The biggest ass alive, I reminded myself.

“Oh, come on,” She smiled slightly, taking a bite of her food. “He’s actually a sweetheart. He stayed for like two hours after you went to bed.”

I cocked an eyebrow in surprise, “Only a few hours? I was sure he’d spend the night.”

“I invited him to,” She sighed disappointedly. “But he said he had to be up early or something. I’m okay with it, I guess. I mean, he said he’d call me again.”

“Great.”

She chewed quietly for a moment, her eyes locked on her plate. Finally, she looked up, and a playful grin spread across her features. “God, he makes me want to combust, Alex. You have no idea.”

I opened my mouth, ready to reply with something witty and sarcastic, but my response was interrupted by the sound of my phone vibrating in the pocket of my hoodie. I pulled it out and glanced at the screen.