Car parks and flip-flops. Nashville. USA.

Start from the beginning
                                    

"How are you feeling today?" I ask Sammy when she finally comes out of the bathroom after a very long shower, what's the betting that there's no hot water left for me? I wonder to myself as she starts to towel dry her hair.

"Like someone ripped out my heart, stomped on it a few times then threw it in a piranha-filled river. So, better than yesterday." She half-heartedly jokes, but there's no light in her dull blue eyes.

"I was thinking if you don't mind, that I might head into town for a little while this morning, I wanted to check out a few places, you know, this being Nashville the home of American music and all. Do you think you'll be alright on your own for a few hours?" I ask her in what I hope is a nonchalant voice, crossing my fingers behind my back and praying that she doesn't see through my painfully thin lie.

"I'm sure I can manage a few hours by myself without combusting, don't worry. You should go out, enjoy yourself." Sammy answers in the same monotone she's been speaking in for days now and I instantly feel guilty, god I wish I knew how to cheer her up.

"OK, well I'm going to have a quick shower then and head out, provided you've left me any hot water..." I try and tease her, but she doesn't so much as crack a smile.

"There should be some left." Is all the reply I get as I grab my stuff and head into the bathroom.

An hour later and I am impatiently stood outside the back exit of our hotel tapping my foot against the concrete waiting for Harry. I have no idea what he has planned for us today, his text just said there was somewhere he wanted to take me and could I meet him here. I take a deep breath of the stiflingly hot Nashville air and relish being outside for a few minutes, I feel like I've barely seen the sky since Florida and am happily minding my own business leaning my head back to absorb some more of the suns rays when I hear a low northern accent call out from somewhere behind me.

"I hope you're wearing sun cream," Harry says jovially.

"Yes Dad, don't worry, I'm not stupid," I reply sarcastically, turning and stretching up on my toes to give him a kiss hello, it feels like it's been weeks since he last held me in his arms and I've missed the feel of his mouth on mine more than I care to admit. To my dismay, though, he copies my move from the night in Brazil and turns his head at the very last moment so that my lips brush against the soft stubble on his cheek.

"We're kinda in full view here Trouble." He says by way of explanation and nods his head towards the hotel which towers up behind us, half the rooms overlooking where we stand. Thankfully mine and Sammy's is on the other side of the hotel, so I don't have to worry about her spotting us at least.

"Shit, sorry, I didn't think." I apologise quickly, just as a large black land rover with tinted windows pulls up in front of us.

"Don't be sorry, Trouble, I don't care who sees us, but I know that you do. Just watching out for my girl." He says and flashes me one of his million-dollar smiles, his dimples pop, and his white teeth sparkle in the late morning sunshine and cause me to momentarily forget how to breathe. Harry always looks handsome, but today in thigh-length denim shorts and a T-shirt with an open button-down checked shirt over the top of it and sunglasses, he looks even more edible than usual. "That'll be our ride," he adds, interrupting my ogling with a wiggle of his eyebrows and gesturing towards the land rover which has pulled up a few feet away from us.

Slightly embarrassed at having been caught eyeing him up so openly, I start to make my way over to the car, whilst quickly checking my mouth for any lingering drool that might have escaped. I assume the vehicle is being driven by Stuart although because of how darkened the windows are, I can't actually tell from here. I can't have taken more than three steps before I feel a sharp jabbing pain in the sole of my flip-flop covered feet and stop sharply, hopping on one foot.

"Ouch!" I complain, and instantly kick away the stupid arse stone in anger and frustration - bad idea. Flip-flops have absolutely no grip, like none, at all. And the second that I slide my left foot forwards to kick the stone, my remaining stationary right foot tries to follow it, slipping out from under me and I land straight on my arse on the concrete parking lot floor with a thump, Bollocks.

Harry, as always, runs straight to my rescue, hoisting me up ungracefully by my underarms and setting me on my unsteady feet as I turn a delightful shade of beetroot red.

"Thanks. Stupid stone." I say chagrined.

"Here, allow me." Harry says with a wink, and with an almighty kick, he sends the offending stone bouncing across the car park, where it crashes into the waiting Land Rover with a high pitched 'Ding!' "Fuuuck." He curses, as Stuart climbs out of the car, pulling off his sunglasses as he goes in order to inspect the damage.

"You get that this is a rental right?" He asks Harry, who looks suitably abashed and lowers his head slightly.

"Sorry, make sure you tell them that it was my fault when you return it, I'll pay for the repairs," Harry says as he inspects the rather deep scratch on the pristine paintwork on the side of the drivers' door.

"If you two are about done causing trouble, shall we get going?" Stuart asks with mock exasperation. I really am starting to like him, even if he does insist on locking me in hotels at the most unhelpful of times, he reminds me of Michael with his overprotective manner, although his current expression puts me more in mind of my dad telling me off even though it wasn't me that hit the car and I have to resist the temptation to point at Harry and say in my most childish voice that 'He did it!"

"Sorry, Stuart." Harry and I both say in unison, and all three of us burst out laughing.

As we drive through the winding streets of Nashville I feel like my head is going to fall off my shoulders, I'm so eager to see as much of this iconic town as I possibly can that I spend the entire journey whipping my head back and forth between the window beside me and the one the other side of Harry trying to take everything in, which is proving rather tricky through the tinted windows.

"Are you going to tell me where we're going yet?" I ask Harry when we reach a highway, and the only sites around us are large fields with the odd cow in them which aren't quite so interesting to me.

"Nope, it's a surprise!"

"But it's... public?" I say a little uncertainly, in my tiny denim shorts and a tank top, I am really not up for having sneaky photos of myself taken.

"It's a public place yes, but today it's closed, except to us of course. Don't worry Trouble, you'll love it."

Half an hour later, we pull up in another large and rather empty parking lot behind a large building.

"Erm, Harry? Are you taking me on a tour of Nashville's finest car parks?" I ask with a cheeky smile.

"Har har, forget the singing, you should be a comedian Trouble. Just get out the damn car." He chuckles back at me before opening his own door and hopping out.

I do as I am told and exit the oversized car and take a look around. In front of me is what looks to be the back of a large nondescript white building

with a single small glass panelled door in the centre of it.

"Well, I've got to say, so far, I'm not impressed." I tease Harry again as he appears by my side and slips his hand into mine, entwining our fingers and walking me towards the door where he knocks twice. After a moment or two, a tall bearded man who looks like a walking advert for Nashville in his cowboy boots, flannel shirt and Stetson, swings the door open and greets us with a wide smile.

"Harry! Good to see you! Come on in." He drawls in a thick country accent. I have to admit, I thought that people only dressed that way in old movies, I had no idea I'd be spending today with a real-life cowboy.

"Hey Hunter, good to see you too, this is my girlfriend Matilda," Harry says, and I thrust out my arm to shake the Cowboys hand, stifling a giggle that his name is Hunter, could he be more American?

"After you," Hunter says, stepping gallantly to one side and holding the door open for us, I glance quickly at Harry who nods, before stepping in over the threshold.

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