"Stop messing around with the camera, Harry," I scold, brushing my hair back and resuming my position in the centre next to Jimmy.

"He'll be back any second and see you touching his stuff," I warn again, but of course, he doesn't listen.

"He just left, Ella. I don't know about you, but when I take a piss, I empty a bucket, so Andrew's gonna need a few minutes," Jimmy huffs, shifting to find a spot to lean on.

"Gross, Jim!" I swat his arm. He loses his balance, nearly toppling over.

"What should I say, Ella? Take a wee?" He mocks, tilting his head dramatically. "Squeeze my willy?" he adds in a squeaky voice.

"Jimmyyy, grow up!" I groan.

"No, seriously, what do girls say? I never really thought about it," he muses.

"We say, 'Use the toilet,' you caveman."

"But you're not using it. You're peeing in it."

"Lou, get in here!" Harry shouts, calling the makeup artist over. Thankfully, that stops Jimmy's train of thought.

"Let's take a few silly ones to make Andrew laugh," Harry says, motioning for Lou to grab bananas from the snack table.

"Yeah, and then let's all play hopscotch," Jimmy mutters, rolling his eyes. "You guys are so mature."

"Shut up and take the picture, man. Ella sucks at it," Harry tells him without a second thought.

"Hey! I'm right here!" I pretend to be offended, but he silences me with a quick kiss on the cheek. Just like that, I forget everything else.

"Baby, you know I'm right," he smirks, "but... you're good at cooking pasta!"

"Oh, well then, as long as that's settled." More kisses for me, then.

"Is this the part where you two forget people exist and start snogging in public?" Jimmy interrupts, unimpressed.

"Since when did you become such a girl?" Harry teases.

"Hurry up before I get too bored to move," Jimmy complains, lifting the camera. He snaps the first ridiculous photo of the day, with Harry and Lou grinning like mischievous school kids.

"Okay, monkeys, are we done here?" Jimmy sighs, sounding drained.

"What's with you today?" Lou finally calls him out.

We all turn to look at him. Even Jimmy—cocky, sassy, unbothered Jimmy—seems off.

"I mean, I mentally prepared myself for the usual while doing your make up," Lou continues. "Enduring your sass, dodging your ridiculous flirting, possibly needing a priest after hearing whatever filth you whisper to every female within a mile radius. But no. Today? Nothing. You're way too quiet."

"Thank God no one asked you," he mutters under his breath.

"And he's back!" I laugh, just as Andrew re-enters, running his fingers through his hair before tying it into a bun.

"Okay, Harry, change shirts. Ella, you need some powder, then back to your spot. Jimmy, you're fine." Andrew readies his camera.

"I'm not fine. I'm perfect," Jimmy corrects, smirking.

"Shut up," I whisper, receiving a massive grin in response.

"Has anyone touched my stuff?" Andrew asks, eyeing the equipment.

"No," a sweet voice chimes in from behind.

Jimmy straightens up immediately, wiping his hands on his jeans.

"Hey, Cindy! Here to admire the campaign you put together?" Andrew greets her with a grin.

Ever since Ferguson got the boot, Cindy stepped up and took over his role. She handled Harry's contract and later reached out to Jimmy and me for a specific shoot. She agreed with Ferguson's assessment that I photographed well but wasn't quite tall enough for the runway—not that I minded. Writing behind the scenes was more my thing.

But Harry convinced me to do this one shoot with him and Jimmy, just for fun. And, well, I caved.

We even made a deal—whatever we earn from this goes straight to our summer holiday fund. Somewhere warm and sunny. Maybe Cyprus. A nice hotel. Sunrise, perhaps.

We'll see.

Seeing Harry back in his element was incredible. He was a natural—effortlessly handsome, completely at ease, and having an absolute blast with every shot. We all were, especially when we were together. Well, all of us except Jimmy, who had been acting off... until now.

"Fuck it!" Lou suddenly groans, slapping a twenty into Harry's hand.

"What was that about?" I lean closer, narrowing my eyes.

Harry smirks, tucking the note into his pocket like he's enjoying some inside joke. "Later."

After another forty-five minutes, we wrap up for the day. If Andrew is satisfied, that means we're officially done with the shoot, too.

We're all starving, so we call ahead to the café and have Niall put in our orders. The perks of being best friends with the manager. Oh yeah—Niall was recently promoted, and Gemma was over the moon. With her job and his new salary, they could afford so much more without constantly borrowing from Harry, though Harry never minded.

Once, I asked him why he even used the word lend when giving Gemma money, knowing full well he wasn't expecting it back.

His answer only made me love him more.

"It's easier for her to accept it that way, Ella. I don't want her to feel bad. She's my sister. I love her. That's all."

Sometimes, you don't need complicated words or grand speeches to say something that matters. I love her was enough. And yeah, I got his point. It was easier for Gemma to accept if she thought she could repay him someday. It made it feel less like charity.

Jimmy didn't join us at the café, though. Said he was tired. Again, I caught that silent exchange between Harry and Lou, and slowly, I started putting the pieces together.

By the time we arrived, Ed, Chrys, and Chase were already waiting. Harry's face tensed slightly when he spotted Chase, but after spending more time around him, he'd finally realized that Chase was harmless. Or maybe he'd realized that I was. Either way, Chase was officially in.

But it wasn't him I was worried about. It was Chrys.

I knew her like the back of my hand, and for the past week, she'd been off. She'd stepped in to take over my shifts at the club since I couldn't juggle everything, proving once again why she was one of my guardian angels. I sure knew how to pick them. I'd do anything for my friends, but I also knew, without a doubt, that they'd do the same for me.

Niall placed my chicken salad with avocado sauce in front of me (yes, it's as delicious as it sounds), and I decided it was time to ask.

Harry, Ed, and Chase were deep in conversation about some sports event, so I leaned closer to Chrys.

"Alright, what's got your panties in a bunch this week? Or should I say... who?" I whispered.

"Nothing. No one," she shrugged.

I put my fork down and stared at her. "We can do this two ways."

"What?"

"Option one: I ask, you deny. I ask again, you deny again. This goes on for an hour, then we repeat the whole process until you finally tell me."

She chuckled.

"Or...?"

"Option two: we spare ourselves the trouble, skip to the part where you just tell me now, and I get to enjoy my meal in peace."

She huffed, leaning in closer so the guys wouldn't hear. They were so caught up in their debate that even the words boobs or ass wouldn't distract them. (I didn't say sex because, come on. They're boys, not saints.)

"Fine," she whispered. "I may or may not have developed feelings for a certain someone who refuses to pay attention to me, despite my very obvious innuendos."

My jaw dropped.

"Wait. First of all, innuendos aren't supposed to be obvious. Second—are we talking about Chase?"

She wrinkled her nose. "God, no. I'd never date a model."

"Offended."

"Seriously, I'd be too jealous and insecure all the time. That life's not for me. I don't know how you do it."

"With great support from my roommate, who never stops putting things in my head."

She half-laughed. "I didn't mean it like that."

"So... who?" My mind raced. Jimmy? No—he was a model too. Antony? Hell no. Tom?

"It's Ed, stupid."

Mic. Drop.

"WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?" I whisper-yelled, glancing at the boys to make sure they hadn't heard.

"You rejected him when he was all over you, and now you suddenly want him?"

She nodded.

"And he hasn't done anything about it?"

Another nod.

"Like, you've made it clear and he still...?"

Yet another nod.

"Ed?"

Nod.

"Our Ed?"

Nod.

"This Ed? Right here? Right now?"

"Oh my god, Ella, YES! Gingerhead, the one sitting right there. I told him I want him. That I think about him all the time, that I want him in my bed doing very sinful things to me, and he still hasn't made a move!"

And that's when I heard the word that seems to fill our everyday vocabulary so beautifully and eloquently.

"Fuck."

Chrys froze, and I turned to see what she was staring at.

Yep.

Three pairs of wide, stunned, expressionless male eyes were locked on us.

And nobody had even said the word sex. How did this happen?!

"I gotta go," she blurted, grabbing her bag and bolting.

I called after her, then turned to Ed. "Should I go after her, or should you?"

He didn't hesitate. "I'm going."

A shit-eating grin spread across his face, like he'd just won the lottery. And honestly? He kinda had. Chrys, this beautiful, kind, amazing girl, finally saw the light and wanted him.

I almost teared up.

He shot up from his seat and ran after her.

"Fucking finally!" Chase groaned. "I was sick and tired of listening to him whine. 'What did she mean when she said this?' 'What did she really mean when she said that?' I kept telling him—she wants you, mate! But nooooo."

Laughter erupted around the table.

"You're paying for their food!" Niall called out as he passed by, grinning.

"Damn it!" Harry laughed, then turned to me, his long fingers beckoning. "Come here."

"Why?" I teased.

"Because I need you close."

That was all it took. I scooted closer, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. His hand found my thigh, squeezing gently.

"I love you," he murmured, his green eyes making my heart somersault.

I swear he's responsible for global warming.

"I love you more." I kissed his lips softly.

"Not possible."

"Get a room!" Niall yelled, ruining the moment.

But honestly? I wouldn't trade this crazy bunch for the world.