Chapter 42

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OLIVIA'S POV

JULY

"Didn't you choose the right girlfriend!?" Bec proclaims to Nathan as we take our seats in the chartered plane Harry has organised.

"Oh babe, now is probably a good time to tell you I'm only dating you for your friends." He jokes back and they smile into each others lips before kissing.

"Oh god, I don't think I can take a week of this loved up shit!" Xander exclaims as Will hits his shoulder, causing the new couple to giggle. "It's bad enough we have to deal with Harry and Liv pretending this isn't some twisted group honeymoon of theirs."

Harry shrugs comically at him as the captain comes in to tell us the flight plan to Santorini and safety procedures.

I had told him flying private was an excessive waste of money but he had justified it by telling me it was an easier way for him to stay out of the public eye.  I had squinted at him, trying to read through what I knew was a lie and like always he dropped the act pretty quickly.  He told me he wanted to go on this trip to Greece as a way of thanking everyone for supporting him through everything.

"I cannot wait to lie in the sun and drink a cocktail!" Frankie shouts before panicking and looking worryingly at Harry.

"Would you relax!" He laughs at her, "I'm fine! I'm not addicted to alcohol Frankie, I just use and abuse it for the wrong reasons sometimes. You guys drink as much as you want, I'll just take embarrassing videos of you to watch in the morning!" He grins and she sticks her middle finger in the air at him.

I had worried about him so much in the past two weeks.  The press had been surrounding our home after the announcement Harry had fired his management and was pressing charges for breaches of privacy.  His doctors had specifically told him not to make major changes in his life and this one was not only toxically negative but also creating massive public attention.  We struggled to get cars in and out of the driveway and Harry couldn't even go to the gym without someone photographing him or reporters shoving microphones in his face.

This trip away really couldn't have come at a better time. 

Harry and I sit in single seats facing one another with a shiny black table between us. You would never guess by looking at him that he was going to the Greek Islands.  He is in a white silk button down shirt, sleeves rolled up and unbuttoned to the sternum as always. His tattoos peek through the thin material and although he has a matching straw fedora covering his curls, he insisted on wearing in his tight black jeans and boots. He wouldn't change no matter how many times I told him he will be too hot.

Of course, he looks calm and collected and like he actually belongs in this private plane as opposed to the rest of us who are so excited we look like children going to Disneyland.

I've never been to Greece before and as we fly over the ocean a few hours later, high above the scattered islands I sit up on my knees, smoothing out my little white dress and put my head against the small window frame, trying to see as much as possible.

Harry has booked this entire trip as a far too generous gift to us all and everything from where we are staying to what we are doing there is a complete mystery.

I glance over from kneeling in front of the window to find him looking at me, his elbow sits on the arm rest of his chair and his index finger brushes along his bottom lip. His gaze is dark and just as a tingle runs up my spine the captain informs us of our impending landing and the group cheers in excitement, breaking his focus away.

Santorini is like a dream, the white buildings and blue dome rooftops I've seen in so many photos surround us as we drive in two vans over rugged clifftops that look out to an impossibly picturesque view of the ocean and unbroken horizon.


As we pile out of the cars and into the sun beating down on us I look over to see Harry pulling the fabric of his shirt away from his skin in an attempt to cool himself down.

"Boots were a good choice, huh?." I mock him and he gives me a flustered glare that makes me chuckle as a man greets us and starts guiding us to what he calls "our villas."

My humour completely disowns me as we start walking through the Saint Hotel.  It is set on the side of the cliff face, the white smooth buildings waterfall down the side ensuring the jaw dropping view of the Caldera and never-ending stretch of water can be seen from anywhere we stand.

An infinity pool sits in the middle of the property, water cascading off the edges tricking the eye to see it as a continuation of the ocean and sky while picture perfect white deck chairs with baby blue rolled up towels line each side, begging to be lounged on.

"Mr Styles, as you booked the entire property we will not have noise issues and the main pool is free to be used at any time of the day or night." 



The ignorant group of travellers gasp at this new piece of information he has unknowingly revealed and Harry laughs and shakes his head, urging the man to continue.

"The restaurant is through there," the man points to the left, "and breakfast can be served in your individual terraces or here."



We all look at each other and try not to squeal as we are shown to our villas each with their own plunge pool and terrace.

As each one of our friends is lead to their rooms where their luggage awaits, Harry pulls me into him, walking with his arm around my waist and I know he has obviously paid for the other four villas available so that we have complete privacy.

"Mr Styles, as requested this is our Grace Villa. Out on the terrace you have your own private infinity pool, jacuzzi and panoramic views. Inside you will find a fully stocked kitchen, surround sound system and steam room."


"Oh my god" I gasp and I feel Harry pull me in tighter.

"You have complete privacy here, Sir. If you or Miss Bailey need anything, please dial 9 and we will be of assistance 24 hours a day." He adds, before we thank him and he quickly leaves us alone. 


My hands fly over my mouth and I don't know if I want to cry or laugh at how incredible this place is.

"I probably shouldn't have just assumed we would share a room but considering we barely ever sleep separately at home I thought it would be fine." Harry says starting to get concerned over my speechlessness.

"Harry! Can you see this place! Holy shit!" I scream, jumping into his arms.

His laugh is pure joy as I kiss his face and tell him how amazing he is.

"Don't get used to it Toots, if the new album goes badly we might be staying at a hostel next time," he jokes.

"As long as I'm with you that's fine by me," I give him a cheesy grin but am being completely honest and he smacks me playfully on the bottom. "by the way are you ever going to play me the new record?"



Something flashes across his face that can be best described as fear before he swallows and regains composure.


"Nope," he jokes.

I jump down and squeal again opening every cupboard and draw, flicking every switch and running from room to room as Harry starts to unpack his suitcase.

"Please tell me you bought something other than black jeans and boots," I tease him as I leap onto the bed.

"Please tell me you brought a ridiculously little swimsuit," he mocks right back.

"I did actually," I admit and I can feel my cheeks burning at the thought of it.

He stops mid stride to the closet and groans at his own imagination.

"Maybe I should've booked seperate rooms, not sure I'm going to be able to keep my hands off you for the whole week." He grins.

We switch roles once he is finished and he sits with his legs hanging off the end of the bed as I unpack my suitcase. I playfully hold up the little red and white stripe bikini I bought and raise my eyebrows up and down before shoving it into a draw and listening to him whine about wanting to see it on.

"Would you rather get your nipples pierced or get a tattoo?" He probes, continuing our game of hypothetical questions.

"Can I choose where and what the tattoo is?"  I ask and see him considering it too carefully.

"Mmm, you can choose but it has to be visible when you're in a t-shirt and jeans."

"Tattoo," I tell him and for some reason he gasps and seems far too excited at the completely hypothetical answer.

I put my empty suitcase away and he hooks onto my wrist, pulling me to stand in-between his legs and holding onto my hips, his thumbs splayed a little too close together.

"Happy anni-my-fiance-was-a-dick-and-harry-is-way-better'versary baby!"

I throw my head back and laugh.

"Best worst day of my life!" I tell him and watch his dimple pop as I rest my arms on his shoulders.

"Thank you for everything Harry, not just this, for everything. For getting me through that period, for being an amazing friend, for letting me live with you, for bringing me into your world and introducing me to the best people I've ever known. I just don't know what I would have done without you." 
I say honestly, knowing this in no way conveys my gratitude.


He starts to shake his head in modesty but I hold his chin and forced him to nod up and down, laughing at how easily he lets me do it.

Our phones sound in unison to Frankie's massage in the group chat suggesting we meet for dinner in the restaurant at 8pm and that she is going to take a nap until then.

"We have a couple of hours, what do you want to do before dinner?" I ask him. "We could go to the pool or walk into town?" I rush my voice getting more high pitched the more I speak.

"Umm.. I'm kinda tired too Liv, mind if we just watch a movie?" He says apologetically, running his hand through his hair and I pout at him.

"Ok, but only if you take off those jeans and boots, you're making me hot just looking at you."



"Makes two of us, darling," he mutters under his breath.

Twenty minutes into some ridiculous movie about a bank robbery by teenagers with superpowers I look over to find Harry sleeping soundly on his side next to me on the huge white bed.

He looks adorable as he rests his hand under his serene face and takes steady breaths in and out. He is in a pair of black boxer briefs, having disrobed on my instruction, thinking he was going to put something else on but was pleasantly surprised when he flung himself onto the bed in just his underwear.

I shift closer to him on the bed, the distance between us feeling too vast and I gently trace the outlines of the tattoos inked onto his shoulders and collarbone. He lets out a little puff of air from his pink cherub lips and I reach up ever so carefully to touch them.

I hold my breath and just as I'm about to make contact he opens his mouth and pretends to bite my finger, making an exaggerating chomping sound and making me scream.

"Stop watching me sleep you creep!" He laughs, digging his fingers into my sides and tickling me. I screech with laughter and when he finally stops the torture, he hooks his arm around my waist and hoists me to sit top of him as he rolls onto his back.

Our faces turn serious immediately, our breathing picks up pace and our eyes fix on each other. He looks down to where the tiny amount of fabric is separating our connected cores. 

I can feel him bulging against me, my dress bunches slightly up and only the thin material of our underwear lies between us.

His shaky hands travel up my silky thighs and onto my hips, dragging my dress up completely away from obstructing his view.   He looks at me and swallows hard before I feel him push my hips downward, increasing the pressure between us ever so slightly but the sensation is almost too much for us to handle.

My heart is pounding in my ears and I rest my hands on his chest to steady myself, his skin is laced with goosebumps and his nipples are hard. A breath escapes my mouth in a sharp exhale as he moves my hips in the smallest of circles.  His lips part and his eyes roll back into his head at the friction.

He is impossibly hard beneath me and I know he can feel my panties starting to dampen as he puffs out shallow breaths, his eyes flicking between my face and our connected centres. I know this is wrong but I can't stop, I don't want to stop.

The feeling of him, even through fabric, is intoxicating and I whimper softly into the air as he digs his fingers into my skin and pushes me into him harder.

He halts his movements suddenly and holds my hips down into his rock hard bulge before his eyes squeeze shut and he draws in a shaky breath.

"Holy fuck, I have to stop baby." He whispers between pants.

"I know, it's ok," I gasp, trying to catch my breath and not meaning anything I'm saying.

We sit like this for a moment, neither of us wanting to break away from the intense feeling that was completely consuming us.

His tongue juts out to lick his lips as he opens his eyes and tries to deliberately slow his breathing. I reluctantly push off him and sit at the edge of the bed, facing away from his nearly naked body and obvious erection as I try to gather my thoughts and control my body trembling with adrenaline and hormones.

"Are you ok?" I croak as I hear his arms lift off the bed and I know without looking that he is rubbing his face in frustration.

"Yep. Just great. You?" He says sarcastically from behind his hands, confirming my prediction.

"Yep. Never better." I return his humour and he groans in self pity.

"I blame that goddamn dress you've got on. I wanted to tear it off you the second I saw you on your knees on the plane." He confesses and I gasp, turning my head to look at him over my shoulder.

He smirks before grunting into his hands again. "God, what I want to do to you right now."

"This is torture," I chuckle at our own misfortune.

"Sure is, baby! Now I'm gonna go fix this in the shower!" He smirks pointing to his crotch and jumping off the bed. My mouth flies open at his honesty and it makes him laugh as he closes the bathroom door behind him.

A/N: DOUBLE UPDATE because i can't put you guys through another day of misery!!! There's something in the water in Greece! 

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