Right Now

36. Tongue-tied over three words

I don't think I have ever moved so fast in my life without actually breaking into a run. After Al dropped me at the front of the hotel I bolted in the door, across the lobby and into the lift. I'd packed my bag before Abby and I had left for the train station, so it was a simple matter of grabbing it from the room and heading back downstairs to reception to check out. 

Unfortunately, my timing couldn't have been worse. It had just gone 11am, which was checkout time, and there were long queues of people waiting at the front desk, including quite a few who had been special guests at the 1D concert the night before. Zayn's mum Trisha smiled at me from the next queue and I smiled back, happy to see her but hoping she didn't want to come over and talk. Any other time I'd have loved to chat to her, but not now. Not when Harry was waiting for me upstairs.

Thankfully, a woman lined up next to Trisha started talking to her and she turned away. A minute later I finally got up to the counter, promised I hadn't had anything from the mini-bar, and checked out, then headed back to the lift. By the time the doors opened on Harry's floor, I was ready to sprint to his room. But I managed to get myself under control and walk calmly down the corridor – the last thing I wanted was to turn up sweaty and puffing.

I stopped and took a deep breath before knocking on his door. I heard footsteps from the other side, and then the sound of the door handle turning. It had only been a few hours, but I couldn't wait to see Harry.

Then the door opened and I smiled at the tall man with the dark hair pulled up into a bun who was standing behind it, only to realise a moment later that it wasn't Harry.

It was Julian Bunetta, 1D's songwriter and producer.

What the hell was he doing here?

"Hi, you're Emma, right?" he said. "Come in, Harry's in the bathroom."

I was so shocked to see him there that I couldn't manage to say anything other than a mumbled "Hi". I followed him into the room, which, as I'd suspected, was pretty much identical to Niall's room, where we'd partied last night. The bifold doors that separated the two halves were pushed back, revealing an unmade bed and clothes spilling out of a large Samsonite suitcase on the floor. A guitar was sitting on one of the two black leather sofas, and papers were spread out all over the coffee table.

"Hey, you did great at karaoke last night," said Julian, plonking himself down on the sofa without the guitar.  "You've got a good voice."

"Thanks," I said, standing awkwardly in the middle of the room. "You too."

Why was he here? Harry could have warned me.

Behind me, I heard a toilet flush and a tap running, and a few seconds later Harry emerged from the bathroom.

"Morning Emma," he said, his voice still slightly raspy. Like Julian, his hair was  pulled back into a messy bun and he was wearing a long-sleeved white T-shirt and baggy grey sweatpants. Despite all the sleep he'd had, there were dark circles under his eyes. He walked over to me, and pulled me into a hug.

"Sorry about this," he murmured in my ear so Julian couldn't hear. "He's just turned up out of the blue."

We separated and in a normal voice he said, "Did you meet Julian last night? He's popped in to help me finish a song we've been writing."

His voice was enthusiastic but there was no light in his eyes. He didn't seem very happy.

"Yeah, too good an opportunity to miss," said Julian, spreading out on the sofa. "In fact our only opportunity. I can't believe I came to the UK for a week thinking I could fit in some writing time with you H, and you're taking off to LA tomorrow. I'm glad we can get this time today."