Vice [h.s]

Four

Tatum's POV

"Then don't." The words come out of my mouth and I almost instantly regret them. I'm entirely caught off guard by what he just said to me, my heart pound against the inside of my chest, feeling panicked.

I think my response was out of shock. I'm trapped in an elevator with this man whom I barely know, yet have been intimate with on more than one occasion, who just said that he 'doesn't want to stay away from me' and all I said was 'then don't'. And now we're getting breakfast.

I'm an idiot?

The dichotomy between how well we actually know each other and the intensity of our physical relationship is confusing. I am fully aware that people have random hookups or flings with people they don't know at all, but we haven't even done that, and what we have done has been repetitive. As much as it has confused me and even weirded me out to an extent, I can't bring myself to discuss it with him because I don't want it to stop. With all of the stress I've had in the past almost year of my life, it's felt nice... liberating even, to just let go in some aspect. I haven't even tried to fully wrap my head around the absolute stupidity of my actions surrounding Harry, but I don't want to try yet.

"What is that?"

Harry's voice brings me out of my thoughts as I sit in the passenger seat of his black Range Rover. Of course he drives a car like this. I look up to him and then back down to the juul in my hands, which I have been fumbling with, pulling the pod out and putting it back in, a nervous habit of mine. I conceal it with my sleeve, annoyed at the question.

"Why this car?" I ask, disregarding his question.

His brow furrows as he looks over at me again before focusing back on the road with one hand lightly gripping the bottom of the steering wheel, his rings noticeable on his fingers, and the other on the gear shift. I notice a few scrapes on his knuckles, which seems to be a normal thing for him.

"What?"

"2018 Range Rover Velar, why that model?"

"Because the 2021 model isn't out yet, do you know a lot about cars?" He answers, scoffing slightly with a small smile on his lips.

"Kind of," I mumble, focusing my attention out the passenger window.

The car goes quiet again. The mix of awkward silence and tension is enough to hurt my stomach. I watch the LA skyline drag by as we pull into West Hollywood. I have absolutely no idea where we are going and the anticipation only heightens my anxiety about this situation.

He reaches into the center console, grabbing his phone and taking his eyes off the road momentarily, tapping on his screen. As he sets his phone back down, a song starts playing and I recognize it immediately. No You Girls by Franz Ferdinand plays through the speakers and he reaches over, turning the volume up.

The rest of the drive is like this, his playlist being the only form of entertainment as we both avoid speaking to each other. This is awkward. Why am I here?

We pull up to a place called The Beachwood Cafe still sitting in silence. I put my juul back in my bag quickly and unbuckle my seatbelt as Harry puts the car in park. We walk into the cafe, a cute space with accents of blue. It's really pretty and I'm shocked that I've never been here before. I admire the various greenery displayed throughout the shop and follow Harry to a small table in the back next to a window, sitting down across from him.

"So... have you ever been here before?"

I laugh trying to break the awkward streak we've had for the past twenty minutes. I mean you could literally cut the tension with a knife. It's ridiculous.