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Andronitis

I Should Be Offended

“Jo?” I call out, walking through the back door into the kitchen clutching my ice cream.

“Not home yet!” I hear Adam’s voice from the dining room.

“And yet, here you are.” I murmur and pop both tubs of ice cream in the freezer. If they react to Louis’s touch in at all a similar fashion as myself, they’ll need some time to freeze again.

“You find something good at the corner store?” I look up to see Adam wiggling his eyebrows and leaning nonchalantly in the door frame.

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.” I shrug off my jacket and step out of my shoes.

“Oh nothing. It’s pretty normal to see you holding hands with a stranger in the parking lot blushing like you’d forgotten to wear pants.”

Damnit.

“Nice, Steph!” Adam fist bumps the air. I’ve been caught.

“Yeah, well. Whatever. Hey, does the name Louis Tomlinson mean anything to you?” I can’t get the fact that that sounds familiar out of my head.

“Nope. Not for me, why?” Adam moves past me to grab something from the cupboard.

“I don’t know. He told me his last name tonight and something in my brain clicked. Can’t move past it, but also can’t figure it out.”

“You know Google exists, right?”

“Isn’t that a little creepy? Are you supposed to Google people before dates?” I rub my fingers over my lips. That feels creepy. It’s also bugging me.

He laughs, “I don’t think there are rules for the level of stalking that’s appropriate before a date.”

Reminding myself that I’m just being cautious, I pull out my phone. If he’s a reformed serial killer, it would be good to know how much distance there is between his incarceration and freedom. I need to weigh the pros of his hands and hair and smile against the cons of his potential to inflict harm. I also need to stop that kind of thinking. I’m sure it’s nothing. I open Google and type louis tomlinson and wait while it searches. I look up at the sound of Adam’s, “Shit!” as he stubs his toe. I look back down at my phone to the loaded results.

Oh. Holy. Wow.
My phone vibrates in my hand and a message appears over my Google search.

From Louis:
Please don’t freak out on me.

How did he know? I close out his text and start scrolling through the pages. It makes far more sense now. His slightly guarded answers. The way he looked when he told me his last name. It’s not my favorite music, and I’m far from frequently online or following celebrities, aside from an occasional check on George Clooney because I’m human, but I wasn’t born under a rock.

From Louis:
Stephanie? I had reasons for not being totally up front. I’m sorry. Please don’t cancel on me tomorrow.

I close his text again. I need a minute. Or several. What does this mean? What does he really do? Why is he shopping at my corner store frequently? Why is he here in general? I’m not great at seeing normal people. I doubt managing going on dates with a member of one of the most popular music groups on the planet is something at which I’d excel. How could he even walk my neighborhood with me? That’s a slightly hypocritical question considering I needed Google to help me out. But there are many others who wouldn’t. This is a bit much.

“Oh holy fuck,” Adam breathes, looking over my shoulder.

“What? You’re a fan or something?” I snap.

“No. Sorry. I was serious when I said the name meant nothing to me. But I get it now. Why is he at our corner store?” Adam is too close and his questions are making my face overheat. I need air.

“I’ve got no idea. I need to go. I need air.” I stand up and grab my jacket and head to the back porch to try and sort things through. My phone pings again.

From Louis:
Agree to hear me out? Please. I’m so sorry.

To Louis:
“I work in the entertainment industry.” “I produce some small music.” “I’m trying to help get some smaller bands on their feet.” Are you kidding me? Were you intentionally playing to see how stupid I was? Congratulations. You pulled one over on me.

I probably shouldn’t be so harsh. I wasn’t exactly playing hard to get. But I feel awkward enough being the center of someone’s attention. I don’t need to feel like I’m a fool on top of it. I’m hurt and embarrassed. I want to throw my phone, but I can’t afford a new one. A problem with which I’m sure he’s unfamiliar.

From Louis:

I promise I wasn’t. I knew what I was doing when I told you my last name. If you didn’t know before, I knew you would soon. I wanted you to know.

My phone continues to buzz. He may be a shit, but he’s persistent.

From Louis:
It’s not exactly the kind of thing you can explain to someone who doesn’t know immediately without sounding like an ass.

He has a bit of a point. What did I expect? I must have looked like an idiot when I asked what he did for a living.

From Louis:
I’ll text as long as you’ll let me. But I’d rather talk in person. Are you free?

To Louis:
I don’t think that’s a good idea right now.

From Louis:
Understood. Tomorrow?

I run my fingers through my hair and stare at my phone. If he was looking for a bit of fun, he could have lied about his name. He also didn’t have to insist on keeping our date.

From Louis:
Please?

Manners cost nothing.

To Louis:
Fine. But no picnic.

From Louis:
Whatever you want. Whenever. Just tell me.

To Louis:
Coffee. There’s a Starbucks two blocks north of the corner store. Assuming you can go to a Starbucks.

That was low; I know that. But I’m still upset. The first guy I’ve been interested in in a while, who seems mildly sane and somewhat interested in return, and it turns out he’s lucky to be walking the street without security.

From Louis:
I can go to Starbucks. When?

He’s being nice by not taking that bait. Mid-afternoon is best. Not time for lunch but very little possibility of extending to dinner. I’m over-thinking timing logistics when my phone buzzes again.

From Adam:
Are you okay? Where’d you go? You still have ice cream here.

To Adam:
I’m fine. Back porch. Stay out of my ice cream. And stop being nosy.

I take a deep breath.

To Louis:
11:00. Don’t buy me coffee.

From Louis:
Whatever you want. I will see you tomorrow.

This sucks. My phone is hot from use as it buzzes again.

From Louis:
Stephanie?

To Louis:
...

From Louis:
Thank you.

****

I walk into the Starbucks at 10:30. Better to be early and gather my wits than walk into an already nerve-wracking situation. I don’t even know what I’ll ask. Although I’m suddenly very aware that I should be looking out for others--fans, cameras, right? Or is that not an issue anymore? I’m so confused. At least I’ve got time.

Or not.

I look up and see him in the corner already standing, inclining his head toward me. He attempts a half wave and stops when he sees my face. Who gets to a date a half hour early? I take a deep breath and head towards him.

“Hi,” he starts.

“Hi.” I look and he’s got two seats but one coffee. At least he listened. “I’m going to get my coffee.”

“Right. I’ll be here.” He waits for me to turn and takes his seat. At least waiting in line gives me some time to slow my breathing. I order and wait by the end of the counter for my drink. I look over and Louis waves again then exhales and runs a hand through his hair. Fine. Let him squirm. I take my coffee from the barista and head back towards him. Here goes nothing. He stands again as I come close. I can’t help but smile a bit; that’s very gentlemanly.

“So,” I look at him. He runs his palms over the knees of his black skinny jeans.

“Right,” he claps his hands together. “I’d have had coffee for you.”

“I know,” I answer. I don’t know how I know that. “Thank you for letting me do it.” He nods and clears his throat again.

“I’m not quite sure where to start, to be honest.” He holds his coffee with two hands and looks up at me.

“How about what you’re doing here and how you’re able to sit in a Starbucks with me right now.” I’m monotone. If I let any emotion in, I’ll make a fool of myself.

“Sure,” he nods and takes a deep breath, “So I didn’t lie to you,” I open my mouth to protest and he he holds up a hand, “Please just let me finish.” I take a drink of my coffee and wait. “I didn’t lie. I do produce small music and I am looking to help some small bands make a name for themselves. I did not mention One Direction. We’re on a bit of a break at the moment, and I’m tryin’ to figure meself out separate from the boys. We’ve been off tourin’ for about a year now. The fan presence isn’t quite so strong and we’ve gotten pretty good at learnin’ how to be under the radar. That’s why I’m here. I work here. And that’s why I can be at Starbucks. With you.”

He pauses and looks up. I don’t really know what to do. He’s got no reason to lie to me. He shuffles and his knee hits mine. I get a jolt and I see a hint of a smirk grace his face. He knows what he does to me. That’s not fair. He coughs a bit, “I felt it too.” I blush.

“I’m not sure where to go from here,” I admit.

“What are you thinkin’?” He sets his cup down and reaches towards me before deciding against it and resting his hands awkwardly in his lap.

“I’m thinking,” I look up and over at the fireplace, empty in the midst of summer, anywhere but his eyes, “God, I don’t know. I’m thinking: Shit; right? Because here’s this guy, and he’s totally random and shows up in my corner store and chats me up in the car park. Then we go on this great date where I’m totally lost but loving it. And it’s the first time I’ve actually enjoyed myself with a stranger, and then it turns out he’s not so random at all and he’s certainly not a stranger. Half the damn world knows his face and I’m on summer holiday from teaching before I go back to instruct the kids that probably bought his latest album. And it just seems like maybe the parking ticket was the least of my worries this week. Which is concerning because I bought two pints of ice cream for that one, so what the hell am I going to need for this?” I realize I’ve been rambling and at a pace quicker than I’m sure he’s used to as his eyes have blown out and he seems somewhat stupefied by my response. I’m a little winded myself. I’m also tugging at my hair and it may fall out if I pull any harder.

“Technically, you just bought the one, if that helps?” I gawk at him. “Sorry, love, couldn’t help meself.” Louis grins.

“Stop it. I’m not ready for “love,” yet.” I exhale.

“What are you ready for?” He scoots closer and my breath catches again. I finish the rest of my coffee.

“Air,” I stand up, “I need to walk.” I move towards the door and look over my shoulder to see him half standing and half sitting, unsure and awkward. “You coming?”

He grabs his things and quickly meets me at the door. At least I seem to be calling the shots on this one. We start walking back toward my apartment and he keeps step with me but keeps his distance.

“How long are you here?” I venture.

“Long as I want,” he answers with certainty. I look at him questioningly.

“I meant what I said,” he assures me. “I’m on a break. My life is my own for a bit. I mean, there’s some stuff here and there that can’t be avoided. But I really would like to take you on a date. And I really would like to get to know you. Like a normal person.”

We’re almost back to my place and pause between buildings, away from the street.

“Can you be normal?” I turn to see if he’s caught up and he’s far closer than I imagined. I’m stunned into silence and the heat I remember from days past returns.

It’s hard to think when he’s this close. I can feel his smirk rather than see it. It’s playful and not ridiculing. And I’m allowing it. His long fingers wind their way around my wrist, his middle finger swiping slowly along the palm of my hand. My breath catches and he leans in, his other hand finding purchase on my hip, tugging me slightly closer. My feet shuffle and I lurch clumsily forward. I’d knock his forehead except that his lips catch me before I get that far. His grip on my hip tightens and he tilts his head slightly, leaving small pecks on my closed lips. His finger presses solidly to the center of my palm and he exploits my exhale as a chance to press a lingering open kiss to my mouth. I feel the tip of his tongue on the seam of my lips and I start.

He takes it easy on me and returns to breathless closed pecks as his hand winds its way around my hip to the small of my back. My hands, which have been awkwardly grasping his shirtfront to this point, flatten against his chest. He recognizes permission in my gesture and the hand at my wrist moves to my neck and tilts my head slightly, fingers ghosting the nape of my neck. I sigh and his tongue finds its way past my lips. Cautiously. Exploring. Asking rather than demanding. My fingers find their way to his hair and as I feel the slick of his tongue against mine, I hear a quiet moan that undoes me.

I break away, breathing heavily. His hands stay put around my neck and at my back and he looks at me with hooded eyes. I lean my forehead against his and our breath mingles while I try to slow my heartbeat. His hands drop to mine and he squeezes lightly.

“You were sayin’?” He whispers.

“What?” I blurt and blush immediately. “Sorry,” I manage.

“I’m not,” his eyes are twinkling and I can’t help but feel I’m at a severe disadvantage here.

“You don’t play fair,” I accuse without a hint of animosity in my voice.

“I’m sorry,” he steps back from me and his hands fall to his sides. I see genuine hurt in his eyes and his cockiness is replaced with caution. “I promise I’m not trying to play you, Stephanie.” He continues looking to the ground. “I’m also not trying to gloss over what I did. I just…” he runs a hand through his hair and his bicep flexes through his t-shirt. I notice the neatly trimmed stubble that’s left a wonderful sting around my lips as he exhales. “I just like you. And it’s been a while since I’ve wanted to kiss a woman. In broad daylight. And not under the influence of anythin’,” he shrugs. “That makes me sound like a cad,” he admits and I offer a slight smile at that one, “But it’s true. So I just did it.”

“Most people don’t get to just do whatever they want when they want to,” I chide. I’m being harsh again.

“Yeah, I get it.” He’s frustrated and I may be pushing too far.

“Hey,” I venture. He looks up and I’m reminded of the jokester at my corner store with laughing eyes. I step closer.

“I’m sorry,” I almost whisper. He looks slightly confused.

“Why are you sorry?” He steps forward and I step back. He looks affronted and slightly hurt.

“I think I need my distance from you right now,” I start and his face falls further. I quickly add, “I mean physically, Louis. It’s hard for me to breathe when you’re close.” He smiles and I blush. “I’m sorry,” I continue, “because it’s not exactly fair of me to blame you entirely for my ignorance. I can’t blame you for wanting something. I guess I’m a bit confused that it’s me, but I wasn’t exactly running screaming from you.”

He starts to walk forward again and as I lean back he puts out a hand, “I won’t touch you, promise.” He bends to his bag. “I’m guessin’ you want some time to process all this. I just, well, I want to be a bit selfish for a minute.” I scoff and he shrugs, allowing for the irony of his request. He hands me a paper bag.

“Don’t open it until I’ve gone, yeah? Then if you want to call it on this, okay. But just...think on it?” He looks earnest and almost childlike and I feel my insides flip again. It doesn’t help that I still feel the phantom of his lips against mine and his fingers in my hair.

“Yeah okay,” I smile and his shoulders relax some. “Thank you for coffee.”

“You bought it yourself,” he concedes and mumbles something under his breath.

“What was that?”

“I said, ‘That’s the last time I allow that.” He’s sheepish but honest. I want to be offended. He turns to go and I call after him.

“I should be offended by that,” I trail and wonder if he catches on. He pauses and turns slowly.

“Good thing for me that you’re not?” He lilts and questions simultaneously. He caught on. I smile and acquiesce with a head nod. He smiles slowly and offers a small wave, turning back around and heading down the street. I look down to the bag in my hand and open it. I see a tattered spine and smell familiar oils. I pull out a book that’s seen better days and turn it over in my hands.

The Bungalow Mystery.

I don’t stand a chance.

Notes

Comments

Omg! I just started reading it and I love it so much! Louis and his sass is just perfect

Ransom girl Ransom girl
12/5/15

@LulaMae
We'll have Louis in the next update! Maybe it'll be a... disaster? ;) I totally get you. I'm probably taking a hiatus myself. How could we not understand the boys? Life's exhausting! I'm so glad you are back though! I really love this story. Can't wait for Stephanie and Louis to meet again :D x

@not_any_maryjane
I'm quite glad to be back. Turns out I needed my own hiatus. I feel like this is a viewership that understands. Quite enjoying your updates. Always love seeing Harry sweat it out for Jeanne :)

LulaMae LulaMae
12/3/15

please continue

Louis'lolies Louis'lolies
11/24/15

I'm glad you are back :) Looking forward to another update.

not_any_maryjane not_any_maryjane
11/22/15