006. CURIOSITY KILLED... WHAT?

Rory had never felt so confused by a kiss in her life.

It was soft and delicate - the complete opposite of the rough and passionate way she had become accustomed to with him.

Harry's action angered her all because she didn't understand it. Why did he kiss her? Was there a goal he was trying to achieve? Was he trying to piss her off or did it mean something else?

Pressing her hand against his chest, Rory broke the kiss and created a slight, but much needed,  distance between the two. His hand placement on the small of her back prevented her from getting too far away from him.

There was a slight feeling of loss without his touch - her lips still felt the weight of his even after they disappeared. 

Something fluttered inside her stomach. 

She hated this. Every moment of it. 

Harry wasn't supposed to make her feel this way - no one was.

"Drink?" Harry announced to the group, moving his attention to the bottles on the table.

Rory didn't need to look at her friends to know the expression on their faces. They were just as confused and shocked by the recent events as she was. As a drink was placed in her hand and her body was guided down onto the couch, it took Rory a solid minute to realize the four of them were now having a conversation.

Harry was making conversation with her friends. With his arm around her. He kissed her, and now, he was making conversation with her friends while his arm was around her.

What the fuck is going on? Is this my lesson? The voice inside Rory's head screamed. Is my lesson to make me so fucking uncomfortable I can't even function normally?

"Hey," Mia's voice pulled her out of her thoughts. "You okay?"

Taking a sip from her glass, Rory nodded, forcing a smile. "Yeah. I'm good."

Snap out of it, the voice returned. This is probably what he fucking wants you to be like.

Draining the remaining liquid from her glass, she leaned back against his chest, knowing her only way of survival was to play along. And part of playing along meant Rory had to focus back on the conversation they were having. From the few soundbites she picked up, it was how the three friends met. An extremely original and not at all cliche conversation starter.

"Isn't that sweet," Harry's voice cooed from beside her, "I guess that means we all met Rory at the bar."

"Small world," she added, trying to ignore the way the tips of his fingers danced along her shoulder.

Mia swirled her straw around her glass. "Harry, how tall are you?"

"You don't have to answer that," Rory was quick to tell him, knowing her friends were only trying to settle their bet from earlier in the night.

"It's alright." Harry directed his attention to her friends. "Six-four."

As more drinks made their way around, Rory picked up on three things. One, it was far easier to put up with Harry the more she drank. Two, Harry was good at pretending to be this type of guy - the one that was interested in speaking with and learning about her friends. And three, Harry continued to nurse the same beverage the entire time. In fact, she had barely seen him take a sip.

He was staying sober. That was unusual for him.

"Who are all these other people?" Rory asked, looking at the nameless faces that now occupied their space.

"Friends."

"You have friends? I thought you only had goons."

Rory noticed the way his eyes continuously flickered to the second floor. And as Harry became momentarily distracted by his phone, she took it as her opportunity to look over her shoulder. On the second floor, she was able to spot Dallas in a deep conversation with two men who looked anything but pleased.

For a guy she saw normally with a red face over anything she said, Dallas appeared unusually calm as he conversed with them. One of the men leaned his frame against the bannister, turning his attention to the crowd. Even from a distance, Rory could spot that the man was well dressed. Three-piece suit, expensive watch, fingers adorned with rings; the club lights reflected off his diamond encrusted jewellery.

The man shifted his attention to Rory, a smirk crossing his lips as he spoke to his friend and nodded in her direction.

"What's got you distracted, Bambi?" Harry's voice whispered in her ear.

"Who is that?"

Harry raised his hand to her chin and turned her attention away. "Don't know," he replied simply.

"Really? Then why have you been looking up there all night?"

Grazing his thumb across her bottom lip, he leaned closer. "Careful now, Rory. You know what they say," he paused for - obnoxious - dramatic effect, "Curiosity killed the pussy."

Her brow furrowed. "It's cat," she corrected. "Curiosity killed the cat."

"Ah, so you are familiar with it. Well, then I advise you to use that brain of yours and not ask questions about what doesn't concern you." Harry took a sip from his glass. "You like to tell everyone how smart you think you are. Start acting like it."

Narrowing her eyes at him, Rory was almost thankful he had insulted her intelligence because it reminded her how much she truly hated him. And no surprise kiss would be able to hide the real feelings she had towards him.

"Did you put this little number on just for me?" he asked, eyes roaming over her body.

"No, I put it on for myself," she quickly snapped back. "But it seems I made a great choice." Rory turned her attention to the man on the other side of the booth who had been staring at her all night. To make her point known, she cocked her head to the side and waved sweetly at the desperate guy.

Harry was unamused by her act but didn't let it show - he pretended to not notice what she was doing at all. Running his hand up her bare thigh, his fingertips lightly danced across the hem of her dress. "Don't forget, Bambi," he whispered, pressing a kiss against her ear, "You're mine tonight."

"Excuse me?"

Fingers digging into her hip, he repeated, "You're mine tonight." Moving his head back to meet her gaze, his thumb pulled down on her bottom lip. "I don't want you talking to anyone else tonight. Got it?"

"Maybe some other people you've been with found the whole possessive thing hot, but I am not one of them," she said, pushing his hand away. "I'll talk to whoever I damn please."

"You're quite adorable when you're angry. Did you know that?"

His patronizing tone was her final straw. Rory opened her mouth to tell him off, not caring if it resulted in whatever so-called punishment he had planned for her to be worse. He was a fucking tool, and she wanted him to know it.

But before she had the chance to utter a word, his lips were on hers. Taking her by surprise, her lips were already parted, allowing easy access for his tongue. The delicate and soft kiss from earlier was far gone and placed with his usual passionate ways. And Rory was sure their sudden make-out session had pulled Benny and Mia out of their conversation.

They weren't connected for long, but it was enough for her breathing to be a rapid mess as he pulled away. She knew Harry was only messing with her; throwing her off her game. Normally, she would think more strategically about how to get him back. But the drinks and loud music were making it far too hard for her to think coherently.

So instead, she had to suffer with his smug face knowing he had the upper hand.

"You really need to stop doing that," she whispered.

"Why's that?"

"It might give someone the wrong impression." She sucked in a breath. "You know, that you actually want to kiss me."

"What if I do?" Harry looked down at his phone. "Looks like I'm going to have to cut our visit short. Benny, Mia," he said, getting up from his spot on the couch and typing a quick response on his phone, "Hopefully this won't take too long but it was a pleasure meeting you both. And Rory," his attention went back to her as his voice dropped to a whisper, "I'll see you in a little bit."

Just when Rory thought he would leave without causing her any more problems, he leaned down and kissed her again.

Harry was lucky he turned and disappeared into the crowd because Rory was two seconds away from picking up one of the bottles off the table and throwing it at his head.

Rory faced her friends. "Don't," she said, reaching for a drink.

"We weren't going to say anything." Benny did his best to bite back the smile that was begging to show. "Nothing at all."

Mia nodded along. "Right. That was completely normal and super casual."

Deciding her glass would not cut it, Rory unscrewed the bottle and took a long swing, scrunching her brows together as the liquid ran down. "Shit," she coughed, wiping the corners of her mouth. "Okay, let's go. I'm ready."

"Go where?"

"Dance."

Benny stepped forward. "Are you sure?"

"Yes. I'm drunk and want to dance and..." she wanted to add annoyed but resisted the urge, "I'm good to go."

Crowds were not something Rory enjoyed. And talking about why was something she hated.

But whenever she got just the right amount of alcohol in her, all her fears faded away and she was able to enjoy herself. Everyone else was too drunk or high around her to pay any attention, allowing her to freely dance as she pleased. The speakers blared music so loud she couldn't hear her own thoughts. There was something about being in the centre of a large group such as this one that she loved - she felt free.

The wandering hands of a stranger made their way to her hips and she felt her new dance partner press up against her. Her head turned to the side, eyes scanning over what she was able to see from her current position. A little preppy for her usual taste but he would do. Spotting the watch on his wrist and the designer symbol sewn into the cuff of his dress shirt, her intrigue grew.

She may have shown up tonight under Harry's orders, but that didn't stop her from dipping her toe into her usual game. Piss Harry off and get some extra cash tonight off Mr. Preppy? That was an opportunity Rory couldn't give up.

Feeling the stranger's lips move along her neck, Rory couldn't help but mentally applaud his quickness. He was so distracted by her she wondered how good her chances were to lift something off him while they were still dancing. 

His touch was suddenly ripped off of her and with a furrowed brow, she turned around to figure out why. But he was gone. 

Mr. Preppy was nowhere to be seen.

The fuck? she thought to herself, surveying the crowd.

Her explanation was found once she looked up at the second floor. Leaning against the bannister, she could see the stupid grin on his face as he tipped his glass to her.

"Asshole," she muttered under her breath.

Rory didn't know how he managed to pull that off. Or how he did it again. And again. And fucking again. 

Every time she found a new partner, they were ripped away from her. Although it pissed her off, she couldn't help but find it funny to imagine one of the large security guards having to push their way through a crowd of drunken bodies just to dispose of someone she was dancing with.

There was at least one pleasing result with all her dance partners being ripped away from her that came to Rory's mind.

Harry was jealous.

Poor Haroldina. Did he never learn that sharing is caring?

Buzz.

UNKNOWN NUMBER: It's time for your lesson.

me dancing hoping rory is ready for her lesson;