Right Now

31. Can we stop this

A quick re-cap: We're in Glasgow after the final show of One Direction's UK and Emma and Harry have just been at the after-party, where they sang You're The One That I Want (with Emma's vocally-challenged friend Abby) during the karaoke session. Harry slipped out and texted Emma instructions on where to meet him...

I rapped on the utility cupboard door once and it opened instantly. Harry reached out, wrapped his large hand around my wrist and pulled me into a tiny space crammed full of brooms and mops, and lined with shelves laden with cleaning products.

"Really, Harry? A utility cupboard?"

He shut the door behind him, and leaned up against it.

"I know, I know, not very original, but I feel like utility cupboards are our happy place."

He grinned at me in the dull light. He was right. One of the best moments of my life to date had been in a cupboard full of mops and brooms.

Harry cleared his throat, then launched into a remarkably accurate impersonation of Sir David Attenborough.

"So here we have them, the male and female of the species," he said, somehow keeping a straight face. 'They have returned to their natural habitat, the utility cupboard, to engage in a mating ritual, of sorts."

"Oh have they now?" I laughed. "And what makes you think that?'

God, I loved teasing him.

"Because if I don't get to touch you and kiss you very soon, I think I might explode," he said, reaching out and pushing my hair back over my shoulder.

"Do you have any idea how fucking tantalising you are in that skirt?"

"No," I played along.

"When you move it swings up, not enough to reveal anything, but just enough to tease. When you were dancing... fuck, Emma. Talk about hot."

He could talk about me looking hot as much as he wanted. I loved this.

"Do you know how hard it was to restrain myself when we were singing You're the One That I Want? I deserve a medal for not grabbing you and doing rude things in front of everyone."

He reached out and gently tugged my hand, pulling me closer.

"And then I had to listen to Zayn sing Endless Love when that's my favourite karaoke song and all I wanted to do was sing it with you. That was pure torture. Actually, I don't deserve a medal - I deserve a sainthood."

He pushed his hand through his hair, his curls bouncing on his shoulder.

"OK then Saint Harold, now's your chance," I said. "Sing Endless Love to me."

He broke into the most beautiful smile. "Really? Can I? You don't mind?"

Was he kidding? Did I mind being serenaded in a cupboard by Harry Styles?

"No, in fact I insist. Actually, I think singing Endless Love is a compulsory part of the mating ritual of the Cupboard-Dwelling Horny Popstar. I'm pretty sure it's foreplay."

Harry laughed and squeezed my hand. "That's the best description I have heard of myself for a long time," he said. "OK, I'll sing it, but you have to sing too. Do you know the words?"

"Some, but not all of them off the top of my head," I admitted.

He fished his phone out of his pocket and typed something into it. After a moment he said, "Right, here we go. The karaoke version of Endless Love."