I wake up the next morning sweating rather profusely, and it takes me several moments to realize exactly why that is. Harry's arm is draped over my waist and his bare chest is pressed up against my back, the pressure of which feels really nice despite the fact that I am uncomfortably warm. His breath fans softly across the back of my neck, and even in my tired state of mind, I can't help but imagine how his pink lips must look right now. They're probably slightly parted and less than an inch from touching the skin on the back of my neck, and that thought makes me smile. What doesn't make me smile is the fact that when I try to move, I realize that Harry's hand is conveniently gripping one of my tits. I guess should have at least put on a T-shirt with my underwear last night, but honestly, I don't really mind that much. It's good to know that even in his sleep, my tits are on his mind. Well, in his hands apparently.

Harry seems to sense that I have awoken, because he nuzzles his head into my back and pulls me tighter to him. He sighs deeply and his hand tightens around my breast, the action of which both shocks me and makes me laugh aloud. At this, Harry moves abruptly away from me, propping himself up behind me with his other arm. I roll over to lay flat on my back, so I can look up at him.

"I didn't mean to do that," Harry says hurriedly, his deep and groggy morning voice cracking half-way through. He looks to be genuinely disturbed with himself, and I can't help but smirk at his evident embarrassment.

"Sure you didn't," I roll my eyes playfully, and I can see Harry struggling to keep his eyes off my still exposed chestal region.

"I swear I didn't," Harry sputters adamantly, a very cute and panicked expression across his face.

Laughing, I cover myself with my hands and stand up from the bed to find a T-shirt. The closest one is a white shirt peeping out of Harry's suitcase, so I settle on that one and pull it swiftly over my head before climbing back into bed with him. Harry looks at me smilingly, like he's admiring me or something, so I lightly kiss his cheek to keep him from staring so intensely at me. When I sink back into the pillow, Harry is grinning down at me even more giddily than before, his cute little dimple making its first appearance of the day. His green eyes seem to glimmer in the natural lighting of our room, but I would honestly wager that the brightness in his eyes has something to do with the thoughts darting through his beautiful mind.

For fuck's sake, I love him so much.

With his attention still fixed steadily on me, my cheeks start to burn just a little bit when this thought of love crosses my mind. I already knew I loved him, but for real, I get so nervous and fidgety every time I think about it. I rarely ever allow myself to admit to such sentiments, so needless to say, I'm a little freaked out by the fact that I am shamelessly acknowledging what that bubbly feeling in my chest really means.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" I ask him tentatively, trying my best to keep my eyes on his, but failing miserably due to the intensity of his gaze. I just can't do it sometimes; I'm too intimidated. Bella Swan might be able to stare endlessly into Edward Cullen's eyes, but we are not about that life here. I apologize if a good, soul-connecting, mutual stare is what you were hoping for, but I don't have Bella's balls to do such a thing.

Harry smiles pleasantly and reaches across me, tucking a lock of my probably crazy hair behind my ear. With a sigh of contentment, Harry lowers himself slightly and props his head up with his arm beneath him.

"I like to admire beauty when it's in front of me," he says, and I find that I can't contain my giggle at his cheesy remark. I mean, really, who says things like that?

Covering my heated cheeks with my hands, I groan and try to roll over so I don't feel so embarrassed by his compliment. Harry is quick to inhibit this movement as he hooks his arm around my waist and pulls me back to face him. I peak at him through my fingers and see him smiling even more broadly than before. Literally, how can a person's smile be this pretty? I don't get it.

"Why are you hiding from me?" Harry asks, brushing his knee intentionally against my bare legs. The gesture is small, but for some reason, it seems so intimate to me that I find myself blushing even harder than I already am. I didn't really think that was even possible, and yet, here we are.

"You can't say cute shit like that to me this early in the morning."

Harry's smile morphs into a smirk, "I can, and I will."

Harry, you're fucking killing me right now with that look on your face.

"Fine," I whine, dropping my hands from my face and crossing my arms over my chest. "Then you won't mind if I tell you that you look like a cupcake right now."

Harry frowns, "I'm not sure I understand what that means, but I'm going to assume it's a compliment."

"Oh, come on," I laugh, rolling over on my side to face him. "I've told you before; it just means you're like really sweet and cute and just... soft."

"Soft?" Harry raises his brow. "Is that like a fat joke or...?"

"No, of course not," I say somewhat defensively. "I just mean that you you may act all badass sometimes, which you are, but other times like this weekend, you're just the most genuine, precious person in the world, and I really love that about you."

Now it's Harry's turn to blush as he lets himself fall back into the sheets beneath him, bringing up his arm closest to me to cover his reddening cheeks. Physically, he looks like a sex god right now, all stretched out on the bed in nothing but his boxers. But seeing as how he's literally hiding from me because he's embarrassed about my compliment, I see nothing but his cuteness. Okay, that's kind of a lie because I'm witnessing a lot of tattoos overtop his strained muscles right now, but I genuinely do mean that his cupcake attitude this morning is most definitely on my mind.

"Okay, I take it back. No cute shit in the mornings," Harry says, his groggy voice muffled by his own arm.

I scoot closer to him and stretch my arm across his torso so that I can comfortably rest my cheek against his bare chest. I've never really been a touchy person, but apparently, Harry has changed that without me really noticing. I find that now, especially after last night, I literally crave his touch all the time. I just love the feeling of his skin against mine and I really can't explain why.

I really hate myself for it, but now I get why couples can be so obnoxiously affectionate towards each other in public without caring what people think about them. There's still some hope for me yet, but with how great everything with Harry has been going this weekend, I really don't know how much longer I can last without forgetting myself and shamelessly showing everyone just how much I love him. My track-record with impulse control is not so great, so honestly, it's only a matter of time before we become that annoying PDA couple. And that's assuming I'm the first to break, like what if Harry does first? I really don't even want to think about that because I'm already cringing at myself enough as it is.

After several moments, Harry sneaks a glance at me, lifting his arm from his face then slowly lowering it down to his side, where his hand makes its way to my back. He holds me close to him, and for a little bit, we just lay there silently, feeling each other's warmth.

I am about to fall asleep again when Harry speaks up, "Do you want to grab breakfast before we hit the road? There's this really good restaurant down the road that has incredible hash browns."

Fuck, hash browns sound so good right now, but I really need to not eat a lot today. I know that's not healthy, but it's fancy dress time tonight, and I want to slay the game, so being bloated is not an option.

"Yeah, we can go," I reply, raising my head and resting my chin on top of my hand. "I'm not that hungry though."

Just as the words leave my mouth, my stomach growls rather aggressively, and Harry looks down at me looking less than amused.

"I'm serious, Cam. You need to actually eat something today or else I'm going to force-feed you," Harry says firmly, and I believe him. Food is one thing Harry and I don't really joke about, so for him to threaten that, it's most certainly not a hypothetical situation. "If you're going to drink tonight, you need food in you."

"I'll tell you what, let me eat how I want today, and then after the dance tonight, you and I will go to Café du Monde, and I will eat like nine beignets so you won't be so nervous about my eating habits anymore."

Harry laughs, his cute little double chin popping out during the process, "How would that make me less worried about you? That's a shit ton of sugar."

Ha, he's got a point. I mean it though; I've always wanted to eat an ungodly amount of beignets from the Café du Monde, so I don't really care if I contract diabetes in one meal.

"Fine," I sigh, moving off of him and sitting up to look down on him in the bed. "I'll only eat six."

"That's still terrible," Harry rolls his eyes playfully and looks up at me. "But if that's what you want to do, then I know I won't be able to stop you."

I laugh, "You're right, but I'm glad you realize the extent of my willpower."

"Whatever," Harry laughs, shaking his head. "Let's go before the wait is too long."

Harry and I get dressed, and we pack our things before checking out of the hotel and heading to the restaurant. Not to my surprise, this place is just as cute as the surrounding area, and it does, in fact, have the best hash browns I've ever had. I know that's bold statement, given that Waffle House is a thing, but this shit has bacon cubes in it, so I don't really think they compare.

Harry seems a little too proud of the fact that he was able to make me cave in my attempt to eat healthily, so I spend a solid seven minutes of our breakfast making him uncomfortable with comments on why I think he's a cupcake. Harry ends up blushing so violently that he really can't say anything in response to me, so I conclude that I have succeeded in my endeavor. The only reason I stop is because the waitress walks up and hears me tell him that he has a bubble butt, and I suddenly realize that I have momentarily become the kind of girlfriend that I hate. Oh well, he deserves the embarrassment.

After breakfast, we take the scenic route along highway 30A, driving through all the cute beach towns that each have a totally different vibe to them. I've been here before, but being here with Harry over the last twenty-four hours really has made it seem like an entirely different place. The bright, happy feeling of Florida has somehow become brighter and happier now that he's associated with it, and I think that's pretty damn cute. Cringey, but cute all the same.

As we leave the beach and turn back onto the interstate, a rather melancholy feeling seems to fall over both Harry and I. Obviously, we're still glad to be with each other, but it's just that our little bubble of peace and joy is coming to an end. We're about to enter the land of drunk frat boys and crazy college girls, and I for one, don't really want to deal with all of it. There's too much drama and too many rumors for my taste, and I kind of think that Harry is feeling the same way. The only reason I'm not going to say anything about it is because I already made a big deal about meeting his friends, so I'd look really foolish if I tried to back out now.

The drive to New Orleans is about five hours, and it is spent even more pleasantly than the drive down to Florida. I'm not really stressed about Harry anymore, so that makes the time much more enjoyable than before. Our hotel is right across from Bourbon street, which, even in the daylight, looks like it's going to be a pretty lit time. Harry has his truck taken away by the valet before he walks into the hotel with me to check in. Apparently, his fraternity has two whole floors rented out, so he arranges some things to be done in regard to all that business. While I am standing beside him at the front desk, the charter buses begin to arrive and I suddenly realize that I'm actually really nervous about meeting his friends.

All at once, there is a hoard of college kids walking through the doors of the hotel, and I can't help but be amused as the staff starts to freak out a little. I can't blame them for being a little nervous; I'd hate having to accommodate a group of this size and immaturity even if it is only for two nights. I don't recognize anyone as they all flood into the lobby with their luggage in hand. Harry greets some of them and they speak with me a little bit before an older man approaches him and converses with Harry for a few minutes.

After hearding everyone into one area, the older man speaks to the group, telling everyone the rules that probably won't be followed as well as the plan for this evening and tomorrow night. Harry stands beside me and tells me that the guy speaking is their house advisor and that he is the only one present to chaperone this trip. To me, that kind of sounds like a terrible idea, but I guess everyone here is technically an adult, so there really can't be anything said against it. Once the man finishes, Harry takes the floor and welcomes everyone. He says some things to get people excited for the weekend, and then he gets around to passing out the keys. I must admit, I really like seeing him in this leadership role; it's really kind of sexy how he's taking charge of everything.

Harry reads out at least one hundred names on the list, checking them off as each guy comes up to claim his room. One by one, they all come up to Harry, and one by one, they all head upstairs with their dates behind them. John is among the guys, and he kindly waves at me before rejoining his girlfriend and standing in the back of the lobby. As the crowd of people begins to thin, I catch a glimpse of a certain curly-haired female who looks rather irritated, and I realize something rather concerning about Harry and I's conversation last night. I fucking forgot to ask him about Gabrielle.

How in the shit did I forget that glaring detail? I kind of hate her, so one would think that I would remember something involving the girl I hate and the man I love. Apparently not.

Harry reads the rest of the names, during which time I can think of nothing but Gabrielle's smug, little face. She honestly looks like she's up to something, so I decide that as soon as Harry and I are alone, I will most definitely ask him about Gabrielle. I'm not really that nervous about it, just because I seriously doubt anything is going on between them. If there were, surely Harry would have said something about it last night while he was spilling all his secrets to me.

To my disappointment, Harry tells me he has a few things to see to and that I should go on up without him, so I find John and his girlfriend Alexa and wait in line for elevator with them. We talk for a little bit before finally getting our turn in the elevator, and I'm not really sure how it happened, but Alexa is now getting ready for dinner with me in my boyless hotel room. She ends up doing my hair since I can't do mine for shit, and I end up doing her makeup because I have nineteen eyeshadow palettes that need using.

For the sake of time, I won't bore you with too many details of our appearance, but I will say just enough so you can get the general idea of what's going down. Alexa's long blonde hair is curled and she leaves it down for the most part, save for the bit of hair that she loosely pins back on either side. When she shows me her black dress and red heels, I know exactly what I'm going to do with her face. To me, no winged liner is simple, so I won't throw that bullshit at you. I do give her some dope ass wings though, along with some fake lashes, poppin' highlight, and a cherry red lip to match her shoes.

As for myself, Alexa styles my hair in a messy yet not messy updo, and I do a darkish gold smokey eye with a neutral lip and my favorite gold highlighter. My emerald green, silk dress looks almost better than it did when I tried it on the first time, and it's probably because of the spanx. And with the gold heels of mine and the slit down the leg, I feel so damn confident that I really just can't wait to see Harry and his reaction. I'm probably overhyping myself, but I don't really care that much because I'm feeling myself right now.

Ha, I guess I did bore you with too many details, but oh well. I got excited. Sorry, not sorry.

We look like fucking queens if I do say so myself, so when Harry texts me that he's on his way back to the room, I am highkey expecting him to be impressed with our hotness. If he's not, then imma be pissed.

John arrives at the room first, and when he gets here, he freaks out over Alexa and moves to kiss her, but she pushes him back because of her lipstick. I can't help but think back to that time when I was getting ready to meet Harry's parents and he tried to kiss me when I had just done my lipstick. He had grabbed my ass to make up for it, and as I'm standing her with John and Alexa, I can't help but smile at the memory.

John somewhat awkwardly compliments me, almost like an afterthought, which I make fun of him for just as Harry steps inside the room. He looks annoyed to see John, but when his eyes land on me, he quite literally freezes in his tracks and stares at me with parted lips and wide eyes. Harry sputters as he tries to speak, but he seems to have no words to say to me. I think this might just be the very first time I have rendered a man speechless, and let me tell you ladies, it feels fucking great.

John laughs at Harry's stunned silence and mutters a "same, bro" before telling me that he and Alexa will meet us down in the lobby. As soon as the door shuts, Harry rakes his hands through his hair and leans up against the wall, still staring at me with a look of wonder on his handsome face. And as much as I like him being so starstruck at me, I'd really enjoy some words from him right about now.

"What do you think?" Smiling sheepishly, I look down to my rather exposed chest and pull at the skirt of my dress to straighten it out. Harry sighs loudly and steps towards me slowly, shifting his eyes to the floor for the first time since walking in here.

"Cam, I don't want you to take this the wrong way," Harry says quietly, looking up to me. "But you really can't wear that."

Bitch, what the fuck? What the fuck? If he thinks he can dictate my wardrobe, he is sadly mistaken.

My face drops and Harry continues, "No, I'm serious. You're going to make me look like I just climbed out of the bin."

Okay, that was fucking mean, but like, it also wasn't?

I roll my eyes and try to keep from smiling, "Fuck you, that was mean."

It takes a few moments, but a somewhat proud smile claws its way back onto my face as I try to appreciate the initially offensive compliment he has paid me. Given that Harry knows he's hot and sometimes dresses like he trying to be a Gucci model or something, it's actually really nice of him to say that I look good enough to upstage him. If it were any other night, I would totally call him a liar, but I think I look pretty damn hot right now, so maybe he has a point.

Harry smirks, stepping towards me and taking my waist in his hands, "I know, but I mean it. You look fucking fantastic, and I'm really loving this silk on you."

That's more like it.

"Thanks, I thought I'd try and channel my inner Harry Styles," I laugh nonchalantly, and he just shakes his head in response before kissing my cheek lightly and letting go of me.

"Speaking of myself, I need to change into my suit."

Harry changes into a plain black suit that fits him perfectly, and we go down to lobby where people are starting to gather. I guess some people are hitting the bars instead of going to dinner because some of these girls have on short dresses that are not ideal for the cold weather outside. Harry tells me he has a reservation at a restaurant for eight people and that John and his date are more than welcome to join us. This makes me smile because I know he doesn't particularly like John, so for him to make that sacrifice for me is kind of a big deal.

Within ten minutes, we are joined by Harry's friend Mark and his date whose name is Christina, and Harry's other friend Calvin who initially seems to be dateless. But of course, such a handsome guy like him could not possibly be without an absolute dime, so he assures us that she is well on her way to meet us. Harry introduces me as his girlfriend to both of his friends, and they praise Harry for reeling in such a catch– their words, not mine. I'm mid-blush when the most inconvenient thing in the world happens. Calvin catches sight of his date and waves her over to us, and to my surprise and horror, Gabrielle strides gloriously towards us, her dark, curly hair bouncing with every step.

What are the fucking odds? Oh, and I didn't even get the chance to ask Harry about her yet, so this evening is just going to be lovely.

•••

I hate Gabrielle so much smh smh SMFH lol

So my good friend reviewsbylou interviewed me for her Author Interviews book, so huge thanks to her for that! Check it out if you would like to know a little more about me 😊 (Also her fanfic reviews are dope, so make sure you read those too!)

If y'all haven't read my other story, Lips That Lied, please consider checking it out! It's very different than this one, but I'm really, really excited about where I'm taking that one, so yeah.. just doing some shameless self-promo here

Thanks so much for reading, my dudes! We're at 30k reads rn and I literally can not comprehend how that happened so thank you so so so much! I love all of you!!

-Kate❤️