This Thing Upon Me [Order The eBook] [Harry Styles]

Chapter 8

(DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. It's important to remember this is all totally fabricated, embellished, and exaggerated for entertainment purposes.)

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I practically sprinted upstairs and noticed a pep in my step as I hopped in the shower. I scream-sang Bill Withers' "Ain't No Sunshine" and smiled like an idiot every time I replayed that sentence in my head:"I got an email from Zayn's manager. He wants to know if he could get in touch."

At a late lunch with the man Azoff himself, my mind reeled with all things Zayn. Suddenly I remembered how he would sit at the edge of the bed and watch me sleep. Whenever I awakened and found him there (his eyes sultry and half-closed), he would wink at me so subtly I was always unsure if he had done it at all. My stomach knotted remembering how tender those early morning hours were when we'd have to get dressed and separate before the team came in to wake us.

In the months without him, waking up alone was like going from a Lamborghini to a Toyota, full stop. Like scaling the heights of Everest and now being confined to sea level for the rest of my life. Mediocrity set in and was a bitter pill to swallow. 

Long ago he had cruised out of my life, leaving me in a degree of darkness I was powerless to fathom and equally as powerless to emerge from. But now he was back in full-force, returning for me, and just in time to keep me from slipping beneath the high waters that had leveled his wake. 

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After taking a pic with a few fans, I pet a passersby's dog (a mean little pug) and spoke to the owner about the best breeds for families with small children. My hands felt gross after they left so I stepped away to wash them, and when returned Jeff cocked a brow at me.

"What's good? You're doing something weird in this general area." He circled his mouth. "You're smiling a lot..."

"Am I?" I grinned, taking the water as it arrived.

"Yeah, creep, like a lot. There's this weird little smirk action going on. What's up?"

"Um..." I chuckled. "Nothing really, I think." I took a sip of water with my pinky up, in hopes he might lose interest.

"You're being weird."

"Alright, sue me."

"What's up? Should I be worried? Is this like the time you side-swiped that guy and didn't tell me because he almost beat the sh-t out of you?"

"Heyyyy..." I frowned. That was a sensitive topic. "No. Hell no—"

"Now the smirk's becoming more of a leer and I'm officially terrified—"

"F--ks sake, mate...it's Zayn." I said, as if the name alone was enough to justify my behavior. I was disappointed when he pressed me, squinting through the breeze that swept the table.

"What about him?"

"He called."

"Again?"

"Mate, what do you mean 'again'? He never called before...."

"You spoke?"

"Yeah...well not really. It was more of a voicemail thing, y'know?"

"No. Enlighten me. How'd he get your number anyway?"