***

I stare at my reflection in the mirror, assessing my appearance. My fingernails pick at the hem of my leather skirt and I worry that it may not be appropriate for wherever Harry is taking me. Next the lace crop top I’d dug out from the duffel bag is criticized, followed by the pair of wedges I’d managed to clean up and pair with the ensemble. Sighing, I start to gnaw on my bottom lip, turning so to get a look at a different angle. For a few seconds I consider scarping the whole outfit, but then I realize that I’d done well to find these pieces, and grumble a curse under my breath while snarling a little.

Maybe I was more than a little nervous about this date and it could be possible that that was where all this over criticizing was coming from, but I would never admit that out loud. My brain, though, was running rampant with so many scenarios and thoughts that it all makes my hands tremble a little as I wipe away a smudged speck of eyeliner.

“Delaney, are you ready?” Harry’s husky voice booms from the front room and I gasp, jumping a little and nearly stumbling into the bathtub.

Pressing my forehead into the palm of my hand, I curse again, chiding myself and begging my nerves to calm some. I ignore the mirror and pull my skirt down a little while stepping out of the bathroom. For a few seconds I debate on whether or not to bring my bag, then wave it off and stick a tube of lipstick into a pocket.

When I make it out into the living room, Harry’s sitting on the couch, typing on his phone with a furrowed brow. His curls are pushed to the right and he’s handsome in a pair of jeans and black t-shirt. His necklaces glint prettily under the lighting, sparking off dots that glow brightly, and his bracelets almost cover up the tiny lock tattoo that he still hadn’t told me the story of.

“Yea, I’m ready,” I murmur.

His head snaps up at the sound of my voice and I try to ignore the way my entire body heats up as he surveys my appearance. Then he’s grinning and I’m involuntarily smiling because you just couldn’t when Harry beamed in such a way.

“Well, you look stunning.”

I blush again and inwardly groan. “You don’t look half bad, either.”

This makes him become bashful and he swishes his hair. Clearing his throat, he gestures for me to head off first to the door, then follows behind with big steps that have his fingertips brushing over my back. Before I can get a hand on the knob, though, a loud pounding starts on the outside. My eyes widen in alarm and I scoot back, stumbling over Harry and falling against his chest.

“Now, who the bloody hell…” he trails off, steadying me before stepping around.

He peaks through the peephole, then smiles while shaking his head and whips the door open. A boisterous laugh echoes through and Harry’s pulling a pale body that’s almost as tall as him into a quick hug. Some blonde hair gets ruffled by one of his big hands, then he’s turning to me and grinning wide as we both move back to allow the stranger in.

“No one was in front of the hotel,” comes an Irish accented voice. “It was fucking grand. How’d you manage that?”

“Just kept a low profile. But, hey, I want you to meet someone.” Then Harry moves aside and I can get a good look at whoever had suddenly shown up.

He’s blonde, as I’d noticed before, with eyes that are the truest of blues and a big smile that’s almost hypnotizing. All giddy and giggly and happy, he’s sort of infectious, and as he pulls me in for a gentle hug, I find myself chuckling a little and patting his back while Harry smiles happily off to the side.

“That’s Delaney, Niall,” Harry laughs quietly.

“Nice to meet ya, darlin’.”

He pulls back then, and I only smile and nod. Next both him and Harry grab his bags and start to haul them inside while I trail after, still grinning a little and in slight awe of Harry’s pretty friend. Tossed into a corner, the two of them take seats after disposing of the luggage and it only occurs to me that I should join them when Harry waves me over. I sit beside him and listen as the two of them joke and laugh and catch up.

“What’re you doing here, mate,” Harry asks happily.

“Just needed to get away. Boring as shit back home, especially when none of the boys want to do anything but stay inside.”

Harry nods and licks his lips. For a few minutes they talk about how things were back in the U.K. and I try to listen, but just end up enamored with their accents and the way Harry’s smiles seem sparkling. The date that Niall had possibly broken between the two of us rests in the back of my mind, but I don’t bring it up, instead choosing to just watch as the two friends playfully punch each other and recall past experiences that toe the illegal line.

At some point in the conversation, a fellow named Louis is mentioned, but Harry’s face grows dark and Niall mumbles an apology and then it’s quiet. My brow furrows and I want to ask who this Louis character is, but something tells me that I should be silent too.

Eventually Niall clears his throat, but it’s me he’s addressing this time. “So Delaney, how’s Harry been treatin’ ya?”

Maybe it’s because my line of work is one centered around sex or just a result of my mind being incredibly dirty, but I can’t help but blush and allow my eyes to widen at Niall’s question. Obviously he hadn’t meant it in a sexual way, but I fidget with my fingers as Harry chuckles and reaches over to shove his friend.

“We’re going out to dinner, actually,” Harry says. “Well, we were before you barged in.”

Niall laughs loudly, throwing his head back. “And where are we going, then?”

Harry rolls his eyes and sighs, but doesn’t tell his friend that he can’t come along with us. He turns to me while the pretty Irishman starts to fish through his suitcases for some clothes after claiming that he’d spilled soda on the t-shirt he was wearing.

“Sorry,” he murmurs, scooting closer and leaning in. “I can tell him to fuck off if you want. “

“No, that’s alright. He’s funny,” I chuckle.

He smiles and nods, his eyes warming up as he traces them over my face. My body heats up like before and I try not to blush too much. After humming out something light, he nods and is standing just as his foreign friend emerges with a sweater that he’d pushed the sleeves up on.

Sighing rather pathetically because my heart is hammering too loud, I stand as well and follow after Harry while Niall asks where we’re all going again. I shrug, but Harry tosses back a sly grin at the two of us.

“Oi! You better not be taking us to some nasty joint like that one time, mate. That was just fucking disgusting and I couldn’t eat seafood for weeks after.”

“Shut up,” Harry laughs, pressing the button for the elevator. “They don’t even serve seafood at this place.”

“Good. I still have trouble eating fish now, you know,” Niall tells me matter-of-factly, his eyebrows raised. “Just smells too much like-“

“-God, don’t say it!”

“You’re the one who took us all there, Harry!”

We’ve stepped into the elevator now and I’m wedged in between the two of them, receiving looks from either boy as Niall punches the first floor switch. Their banter is fun and I’m laughing so hard that I can feel my cheeks reddening and my eyes leaking. A few times I fall against Harry’s shoulder and shine a wide smile up at him while I try to breathe through my laughter, and he just presses a hand into the small of my back while grinning at me too.

Most of the time being in the presence of another man would make me uncomfortable, like when I’d first met Harry, but Niall’s not that way. He’s easy going and sweet and as we crawl through the lobby in a bubble of hysterics from him and Harry, I don’t flinch away or want more space when he nudges me with his elbow and a beaming smile. Instead I mirror his smiling face because he’s such a good time. Even Harry seems to be noticing how warm I’ve become to Niall, because he’s leaning on me more and I even feel as his long fingers brush over mine.

Once out onto the street, we stumble to a slower pace and then tumble into Harry’s car. Niall situates himself in the back and lets me take the passenger side up front, then becomes quiet besides the hyped up humming and clicking on his phone. Harry turns down some over exaggerated love song that booms through the speakers and catches my eye while licking his lips again. He grins, which I return in full force and ignore how I grow hot all over again.

The ride to the place Harry had original planned to take just the two of us to is quiet, with him and Niall quipping up and asking questions every once in a while. By the time the little sports car is being swerved into a parking spot in front of some all vegan restaurant, the blonde is asking me a serious of questions that make me snort back laughter because they’re so hilariously abrasive.

“I’m serious,” Niall says. “Is that your true hair color?” I nod and try to ignore how I sort of sink into Harry when he appears from the other side of the street and situates himself behind me as Niall fights with the seatbelt. “I think the only true ginger I’ve ever met is that devil of genius named Ed.”

“Devil of a genius is correct,” Harry chuckles.

“One of the best song writers I’ve ever met,” Niall concludes through a grunt.

He managed to get himself out of the car and Harry’s clicked the lock on is keys and we’re starting to head into the eatery now, but we’re stopped by a loud exclamation that flies out of the Irishman. I stop and Harry stumbles into me, having to latch onto my hips in order to secure that I want bang my face into the concrete.

“Do I look like a fucking vegetarian to you, Harry,” he calls, flailing his hands.

I laugh into my palm as Harry just rolls his eyes and removes only one of his hands from my waist.

“Just shut up and come on,” he waves, completely wrapping his arm around me and starting for the restaurant again.

I lean into him and the intoxicating scent of his cologne, glancing up from underneath my eyelashes as he smiles gently down at me. First dates where a new thing for me (I think I’d been on a two or three throughout my entire life), but as Harry opens up the door and we walk in together while Niall mumbles curses under his breath, I don’t care that he’s probably crossed some line that most people wouldn’t dare go near till the second or third.

His arm feels good around my waist and I like his warm body being so close. I’m still frightened, my hands tremble a little as I fidget with them, and my thoughts are running as fast as my heart, but it’s alright, I decide while we wait for someone to seat the three of us. I’m not scared of Harry, just of the fact that I can’t quite remember how to do these sorts of things.

I was more use touches that were rougher, not the gentler ones that Harry had been giving me all night, and those adoring looks that he’d been throwing me always took my breath away because it had been a very long time since someone looked at me like that. I was a whore, after all, something cheap that was paid for by people too desperate to go out and try to find something much more sustainable, and we’re never cared for so tenderly.

But I really like it, I decided again as we’re finally lead to a booth towards the back of the restaurant. I’m frightened to death and really unsure of what to do, but Harry seems to know, so it’s alright. Lost, scared, and unsuspecting, but happy, willing, and uncaring, that’s what I was. And I realize as Harry slides in next to me, that I hadn’t felt any of that mix in a very long time.