(No Control | Holding Me Ransom - 52 - Now You Know Me)
We stay in bed another couple of hours, and it's past ten o'clock when I reluctantly force myself into a sitting position and Jess stirs next to me. I want to spend some time with my family today before I have to get back to London and my busy schedule, and I share these thoughts with Jess. Her excitement at One Direction appearing on The Jonathan Ross Show makes me smile stupidly, but it's got me thinking about my diary over the next few weeks, and when we'll be able to see each other. We've only just got back together - I don't want us to be spending weeks apart again.
"So... I was wondering if maybe you wanted to come over to New York and LA with me, later in the month?" I suggest casually. "We have a few things lined up, but it's not as hectic as the UK schedule. I thought maybe we could spend some time together?" And then another idea occurs to me, and I don't know why I've never thought of it before! "Maybe we could even go on holiday or something, once the last of my commitments are over?" (I'm trying not to sound too eager). "I mean, it's just an idea, we don't have to..."
She doesn't say anything for what seems like forever. My heart begins to thud painfully, and I'm suddenly worried I've rushed her into something before she's ready, like put her on the spot or something.
"Harry," she says in that squeaky, over-excited voice of hers that she often uses when the other members of the band are mentioned, "I would absolutely LOVE that!"
Thank fuck for that.
"Really?" I smile, leaning back and relaxing a little with relief. "I just thought it would be good to have some time to relax together. I haven't really thought it through, I was just thinking out loud."
"It would be amazing," she grins.
"So, yes to both? Fly out with us, and come on holiday with me?" I confirm.
"Yes to both," she nods. "Wait - who's 'us'?"
"The band," I explain. I thought this was obvious. "We'll be flying out on the jet together. Will that be a problem?"
"Will that be a problem?!" she repeats, leaning up on her elbows and staring at me with a look of unbridled giddiness. "Are you kidding me? I get to hang out with One Direction on a private jet for, like, eight hours?!"
"I thought your fangirl days were behind you," I tease, secretly loving the fact that she's excited about this.
"I'm allowed a relapse periodically," she says matter-of-factly, and I try to contain my smirk as we discuss the logistics.
"I can't wait to take you out on a proper date again," I muse. "If you want to, that is."
"Of course."
"OK good. I don't want you to feel pressured into being seen out in public with me if you're not ready for all that yet. We take this at your pace."
The last thing I want to do is to rush her into anything. I don't want any unnecessary strain on this relationship this time.
"We take it at our pace," she argues. "We agree on this sort of stuff together, OK?"
"OK," I concede, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear as she frowns at me. "How do you feel about all of that, though? Being seen in public, I mean. The paps will be onto us straight away. They know you through being linked to me in the past. It will be all over the internet in seconds."
"I don't know," she says, looking me straight in the eye. "I think it will always irk me that we can't do anything without it becoming public knowledge. But I refuse to hide away and become a recluse just because of a few photographers."
"Do you want to keep it platonic in public at first? It's fine if you do. I won't be offended."
"What do you want to do?" she asks, and although I want to let her make the decision, I know I have to be honest about where my head is with all of this. If there's one thing I've learnt from these last few months, it's that honesty is always the best policy.
"Well, I want to shout from the rooftops that the most beautiful girl in the world has agreed to go out with me again," I murmur. "And I'm past caring what the world says about me, as long as I've got you by my side. But... I also know from experience that having the media on your case morning, noon and night puts a strain on any relationship initially. And I also know it stresses you out. So maybe it would be foolish to rush into any big announcements until we're both feeling relaxed enough the second time around to be ready for it."
"I'm on board with that," she nods. "I do want to make us official to everyone eventually, but I agree it would be good to keep it quiet for the time being."
I love how we can have these grown up conversations.
"Admit it," I leer. "The sneaking around turns you on."
"Massively," she nods, and I pull her face down to mine for a kiss.
"I knew it."
She slides one leg across my stomach so she is sitting astride me, which is guaranteed to make me hard within seconds. My hands creep slowly up her top, and although she mutters something about seeing my family, she puts up no resistance. Her protestations are weak and unconvincing, and she is returning my kisses with increasing passion and enthusiasm.
"I bet I can make you come in under two minutes," I challenge as she lifts up to let me slip my erection inside her.
"Not a chance," she counters.
I don't time it, but the fact that she doesn't come crowing to me afterwards tells me I won the bet.
~~~
After a quick shower we venture downstairs and finish off the remnants of breakfast which apparently we missed. Uncle Mike torments Jess with pointed comments about us being a couple but she seems to take them in her stride and I watch her across the table, giving her knowing looks and wrinkling my nose at her playfully every time she blushes. My eyes wander to a leaflet on the fridge for the annual fireworks display next weekend at a social club near my old house, and I imagine Jess and I hanging out with my friends, bundled up in coats and wellies, eating hot dogs and going on a couple of the rides.
Mum and Aunty Dee cook a roast while the rest of us gather in the lounge for a game of Scrabble (I win, much to Gemma's annoyance - she hates it when I beat her), and then after dinner we climb into Jess's car and head back to London, after making arrangements to return next weekend for the bonfire.
Jess sighs contentedly, and we chat about the weekend just gone and how nerve-racking it is to meet each other's family.
"They loved you," I reassure her, as she shares her worry of making a good impression. "How could they not?"
"I hope so," she sighs.
"Of course. And at least they weren't threatening to break parts of your body, like Calvin did when I first met him."
I can laugh at this memory now, but I won't deny it scarred me for life.
"True," she grins. "I'd better let my parents know we're officially back together, before we're spotted out somewhere and the rumours start again."
I know Calvin is included in this, and the thought of him coming after me when he finds out I'm back with Jess gives me a flutter of nerves in my stomach.
"Is it wrong that I'm quietly terrified of your brother?" I mutter, only half joking.
OK, quarter joking.
OK, not even joking.
"You know he's all talk, don't you?" she says, squeezing my hand and giving me a soft smile. I relax a little. "Well, mostly, she adds."
"Mostly?" I repeat, my eyes darting to her as my stomach tightens again.
"Well...," she hesitates, "there was this one time when he threw the lad I was seeing against a wall. But only because he found out we'd started sleeping together! I was seventeen! It was my first serious boyfriend!"
Her voice rises in panic, presumably at the look of panic on my own face. This guy seriously is unhinged. Imagine if he actually has a gun. It's probably better if I don't dwell on that thought.
"I don't know which part of that I dislike that most," I mutter, after a moment. "Finding out your brother will happily kick my head in if given the chance, or hearing you talk about sleeping with someone else."
"It was nearly six years ago," she rationalises. "And Calvin has calmed down a lot since then."
"Hooray."
Calvin's idea of calming down is probably only breaking one leg instead of two.
"Can I put some good music on?" I ask, fumbling for my phone.
"I note the unnecessary 'good' thrown in there."
Nope, it was most definitely not unnecessary.
"Yeah, none of your teeny-bop shit," I confirm.
"I hope you're not classing One Direction in that category!"
"Of course not," I reply immediately. "But we're not listening to that either," I add for clarification.
"Spoilsport."
"I'll put my songs on shuffle," I suggest as I connect my phone via the little port by the cigarette lighter.
"I don't know why we can't just have the radio on," she huffs.
"Because my musical taste is far better and broader than anything on Radio One," I retort.
"Don't let Grimmy hear you say that," she bats back, and I concede defeat, allowing my mind to wander back to our previous conversation.
I probably shouldn't bring up what I want to bring up. I don't want to ruin a great weekend.
It wouldn't ruin it though, would it? It's not like I'm going to be an arsehole, even accidentally.
I might act not cool, though. And that would be... well, not cool. Am I bothered about being cool? She already knows I'm a loser.
No, I don't need to know. Some things are better left unsaid. Or at least, left for another time.
No, fuck it. If I don't ask now the opportunity might not come again for months and I'll just fucking torture myself with my own imagination.
"So... this first serious boyfriend of yours," I blurt.
"Mmm?"
Well, I was hoping for more information, but clearly I'm going to have to ask her outright.
OK, word this carefully. Be eloquent. Be casual, and not needy. You've got this.
"Who the fucķ is he?"
Oh for fuck's sake, what is the matter with me?
"Smooth," Jess smirks. "He was a guy I went out with at school."
"Darren?"
She frowns at me in confusion. "No, but how do you know about him?"
Because I'm a fucking loser who can't bear the idea of you with anyone else.
"Maddie mentioned him on Facetime in LA," I admit, feeling more and more stupid by the second. "The guy whose tshirt you slept in, or something?"
OK, stop fucking talking.
"Bloody hell, you've got a memory like an elephant!" she exclaims. "Darren was my first ever boyfriend, but we didn't have sex. I was fifteen, and we just sort of... fooled around."
I hate him.
"Ryan was the one Calvin pushed against a wall," she continues. "I was with him for a couple of years. He was my first love."
OK, I hate this one even more.
"Why did it end?" I ask. Thankfully, my voice sounds normal.
"It just sort of fizzled out. No drama, no heartbreak. We were going off to university at opposite ends of the country, so we called it a day."
"Who were your other boyfriends?"
I can't look at her. I'm too embarrassed at being this uncool.
"I had another serious-ish relationship for about a year while I was at uni. He ended things and I was pretty cut up about it. And then I started seeing another guy in my final year, but he was a bit of a prat so it only lasted a few months. I was single for a while, and then I met you."
"OK." I'm glad that's over.
"What about you?" she asks. "Or am I going to regret asking that question?"
Hopefully not.
"To be honest, there hasn't really been anyone particularly serious that I haven't really mentioned before. Other than maybe Kendall. But the rest were sort of casual, made out to be more by the media," I explain.
"Kendall? As in, Jenner?"
"Yeah, she's the one I stayed the most friendly with. We still hang out sometimes when I'm in LA."
There's a beat of silence. "When you say 'hang out'...," she asks slowly.
Oh shit, not like that!
"I just mean hang out," I confirm, turning to look at her. "Nothing more. We're friends, that's it. I saw her a couple of times over the summer while we were touring in the US. She's friends with Jeff and Glenne, too."
"So she was a serious girlfriend?" Jess asks. How is she so casual and matter of fact about this?
"Well, not as serious as Nadine, but I did care about her a lot. And still do."
"Um, OK." She sounds uncertain, and I hurry to reassure her. I don't want her to feel worried about anyone in my life. As if anyone could compare to her anyway.
"Not in the way you're thinking. I mean she's a really good friend. I just don't see her much anymore."
"OK," she says again.
"Is it?" I really don't want this to be an issue for her. I know everyone thinks Kendall's stunning, but Jess outshines her a million times.
"Of course," she says. "I would never try to make you feel bad for being friends with somebody. So what about Nadine? What happened with her?"
"She was really jealous," I explain with a sigh. "She didn't like me talking to other girls. She always accused me of flirting, when I wasn't - at least, not with any intentions. She said I enjoyed the attention. The relationship was intense when we were together, but she was insecure when we were apart. And then I told her I loved her, and she just said 'thanks.' I was pretty crushed, at the time. I don't know why she was so jealous if she wasn't that bothered about me. I now think she just enjoyed playing games. Anyway, she went a bit cold on me in the weeks leading up towards the start of the tour, and then one day out of the blue she sent me a text saying we needed to talk. So I called her and she said she wanted to break up. I was gutted."
I'm glad I've got that all out. I don't want us to have any secrets. Especially about Nadine.
"It's never nice being the one who gets dumped," Jess remarks.
"Especially when it's because someone doesn't trust you, when you've never given them reason not to," I elaborate. "And when I said the L-word and she didn't say it back... I felt like the biggest tool. I think it made me scared to admit my feelings sooner with you. I was so worried I'd read everything wrong. You played it all so cool, and I was afraid of getting my heart broken again by someone who wasn't bothered about me."
"I'm sorry I made you feel like that," she says, linking her fingers with mine. "I was scared too, for the same reasons. I was scared I'd read it wrong."
We should have had this conversation months ago, and spared ourselves all this drama.
"We're a pair of numpties aren't we," I chuckle.
"Yep," she grins. "Soo... who was your first love?"
Uh oh - I hope I'm not going to put her off talking about any other exes. There are a few more than Jess.
"When I was about fourteen, fifteen, I went out with a girl called Felicity," I tell her. "I was with her quite a while, a typical teenage romance, you know. I was pretty crazy about her, as much as you can be at that age with no experience. But then I went on X Factor and it all sort of fizzled out. I haven't seen her for a while."
She doesn't say anything, and I wonder if she wants to probe more but feels she can't or whether she doesn't want to know. I decide to stick with the theme and be up front about stuff.
"You know I've been linked to a few others too," I begin.
"A few?" she jokes.
"OK, a lot," I nod. "Some of them were true, some weren't. I had a fling with a DJ called Lucy, who was married. That didn't end too well."
"I heard about that one," she says softly. It was all over the media, so I'm not surprised.
"I'm not proud of it," I sigh. "I knew she was married, but she implied it was coming to an end and I didn't ask questions. I was young, and flattered by the attention. If I could go back and change it I would."
I shouldn't have fucking done it, all the same.
"We all make mistakes," she shrugs.
"Her husband blamed me entirely," I admit, staring out of the window, feeling ashamed all over again, as I always do every time I think of this (which is why I try not to). "I felt guilty about that for a long time."
"Well, it takes two," she says, short and to the point. "I'm not apportioning blame, but it would have been her decision as much as yours. If she was married, or in a relationship, she shouldn't have done it."
"Neither should I," I murmur.
"Like I said, we all make mistakes. Nobody's perfect."
I love how she isn't judging me for this.
"You always stick up for me," I smile at her, and she smiles back.
"Maybe I think you're worth sticking up for."
My stomach gives another flutter, but in a good way this time.
"You have no idea how much that means to me. You've been loyal to me since the day we met." I give her hand a gently squeeze, which she returns.
"I love you. And I do know how much it means to you. You happen to mean the world to me, too."
We're turning into a right soppy pair. Thank God Louis can't hear me now - I'd never live it down. I think he'll be happy we've finally sorted things out. I must take a minute to ring him and give him the good news.
"Oh my God." Jess's voice breaks my thoughts, and all of a sudden I realise the beginning of If I Could Fly is playing and she is turning up the volume with her eyes wide. Fuck, I'm not ready for this.
"Nooo, we're not listening to this!" I reach forward to skip the track but she stops me as the next line of the song plays.
"Jess," I beg. "Please switch it off."
"Why?" she asks distractedly.
Pay attention, I hope that you listen, 'cause I let my guard down...
"You're... this... it's our new stuff from the album," I begin, feeling hot and prickly all over. I pull uncomfortably at the neck of my coat.
"So?! I'm not going to leak it!"
"No, I know," I begin, desperately. "It's not that..."
"It's fuckıng beautiful, Harry," she says softly, over 'Right now I'm completely defenceless'. "What's the problem?"
"I wrote it - " I begin. ("All the more reason to let me hear it!" she interrupts.) " - about you," I blurt.
"What?!"
For your eyes only I show you my heart...
The car is drifting out of the inside lane as she stares at me with her mouth wide open, and I grab the steering wheel so that she swerves back into position.
"It's fine, chill," she says, presumably talking about the fact she could have crashed the car and killed us both. "What do you mean, you wrote it about me?"
Honestly.
"What do you think I mean?"
I'm missing half of me when we're apart...
"Did you write it with anyone else?"
"With a couple of other songwriters in LA," I reply, looking down at my lap, feeling exposed and vulnerable. "But not with anyone else from the band."
This isn't how I imagined this moment to be. When Perfect was released it was, well, perfect. I wanted her to hear these other songs at the right time, when I could explain them properly. I feel caught off guard.
Now you know me, for your eyes only...
"Please let me listen to it," she pleads. "I can't believe you haven't told me about it."
"OK," I relent, my stomach now churning. What if she hates it? She doesn't do clingy, and fucking hell I was a mess when I wrote this.
I've got scars even though they can't always be seen... And pain gets hard, but now you're here and I don't feel a thing...
"When did you write this?" she asks in a whisper.
"The idea started in April in LA after you'd gone back home," I answer. I can feel sweat trickling down my back from the stress. "But it only really came to life properly after we'd broken up in June after New York, before I found out the whole truth. I was so unhappy without you, again, so it's about me missing you."
I can feel your heart inside of mine, I feel it, I feel it... I've been going out of my mind, I feel it, I feel it... Know that I'm just wasting time and I hope that you don't run from me...
I want to look at her but I daren't. The car slows a little, and I look at her nervously in case she's about to veer off into the barrier or something. She's indicating, and then moves onto the sliproad towards Sandbach service station.
"What are you doing?" I ask, almost fearfully.
For your eyes only I show you my heart... For when you're lonely and forget who you are...
I risk a glance at her, and I can see her eyes are full of tears. Oh fuck, are these happy tears or sad tears? Shit, have I fucked everything up?
She pulls into a space as the last chorus builds, and kills the engine. Tears are now streaming down her face, but she doesn't look at me - her whole body is shaking. I don't know if I should reach out to her, or apologise, or ask if she is OK?
The song comes to a close and she unclips her seatbelt - my stomach lurches as I think for one horrible second that she's about to get out of the car and walk off in disgust. Then she's practically climbing over the central column to put her arms around me, her tears dripping onto my neck. "I love you so much," she sobs.
Thank FUCK for that. "I love you too," I whisper. "I can't even begin to explain how much."
I'm aware I'm gripping her tightly, afraid to let go; to ever let her go.
"Why are you crying?" I ask into her hair.
"I don't know," she chuckles, sniffing. "I think because I can feel your emotion in the lyrics, and it breaks my heart that I made you feel so sad. And because I love you so much, and I can't believe I'm the subject of one of your songs. Well - two," she adds.
Oh, if only she knew.
"Three..." I whisper, and he lifts her head to look at me, her eyes wide, her face streaked with tears. She has never looked so beautiful. "...and a half."
---***---
Hello! Is anyone still reading this? It's been almost a year and a half since I updated this story and I came onto Wattpad tonight with the intention of writing the next part of Twist of Fate, and suddenly had the urge to look at Trace, and well... here I am :) - (I haven't even proofread this, I just wanted to get it posted, so I apologise if it's not up to standard).
I think about this book all the time, especially as I've been listening to MM, Four and MITAM lately, and every time I think of this series and feel guilty for leaving it for so long - it was never my intention to leave it unfinished. I can't promise when the next update will be, but I hope this has been as nice a surprise for you to read as it was for me to write! I've missed Jess and Harry!
Thanks for reading, and I hope you're all really well. Drop me a comment if you're still here, and say hi :) xxx