I told Harry on Wednesday morning I wanted to go shopping and look for something to wear for our date that evening, so we decided to go to West Hollywood for breakfast. As I stood in the kitchen fiddling with my bag, with Harry standing behind me distracting me by kissing my neck, my phone pinged with a text from Sarah.

From: Sarah: Work emails

"Work emails?" Harry murmured into my neck. "What does that mean?"

To: Sarah: On it xxx

"It means, go and have a look at your work emails because there's something juicy kicking off that you'll be sorry you missed," I said, opening my emails on my phone and tapping my work account.

"How do you know?" Harry said incredulously.

I chuckled as my inbox loaded. 147 unread emails. Gross. I scanned the subjects, wondering which one Sarah was referring to. One caught my eye about a company called Mediasure that I had refused to insure a couple of months ago, but had been overruled by an idiot from another department who knew the owner. I opened the email and quickly scanned it. The company had gone bust, and now owed us thousands. "Fuck," I breathed.

"What's up?" Harry asked.

I shook my head. "A company I wouldn't insure because their accounts were shit have gone into Administration," I said. "But some numpty high up in Customer Relations knew the owner so I was overruled and now they owe us shed loads of money. Dickheads. I told them they weren't financially stable." This was probably the most Harry had ever heard me swear, apart from down the phone when I was yelling expletives at Calvin.

I saw another email further up from one of the senior underwriters and opened it.

From: Colin Simpson

To: Jessica Bradshaw

Subject: Mediasure

Hi honey. This is what happens when we get overruled. Seem to remember us saying these weren't creditworthy?! More chance of me whisking you off on a swanky date than recovering this money. I'll get my lucky pants on. Col xx

"Who's Col?" Harry asked, over my shoulder. Shit, I'd forgotten he was there.

"One of the senior underwriters," I said.

"Why is he asking you on a date?"

"He asks everyone on dates," I said. "He's just a flirt, he says stuff like that all the time."

I turned around and looked at Harry who was frowning at me with a strange expression on his face. "What do you say to him?"

"I give it back," I said. "It's just banter."

His expression was unreadable. My stomach began fluttering. "Are you jealous?" I teased him.

"No," he said shortly, turning around and picking up his keys. I smiled at his back and picked up my bag. "Have you ever been on a date with him?" he asked, his back still turned.

My smile widened. "No," I said. "Why?"

"Just wondering," he said casually, running a hand through his hair.

We headed to the door.

"Would you go on a date with him?" Harry asked suddenly.

"No," I said.

"Why not?"

"Because I don't want to," I said. "And he's not serious anyway. It's just banter."

Harry grunted and we walked outside. I automatically walked to the Range Rover but stopped when I realised Harry wasn't behind me. I turned around and looked for him, and heard him call, "We'll take this one today."

I walked around the back of the Range Rover towards the sound of his voice and saw him standing next to a white retro Mercedes convertible. "Nice," I said appreciatively as he opened the passenger door for me. I slid onto the seat and he closed the door and got in the driver's side.

We drove through the gates and Harry switched the radio on. "What are we singing along to today?" he asked, giving me a sideways glance.

"Depends what comes on," I said.

We drove along down the quiet roads, pulled up at some traffic lights and smiled at each other. A car full of girls pulled up next to us, their windows down.

"It's Harry Styles!" they squealed, and Harry and I both looked over at them. They all waved manically, and squealed louder when we both waved back. "I love you, Harry!" one of them shouted. "You're like, so amazing!"

"Thanks," Harry called back. "What's your name?"

"Bria," the girl called back, beaming.

"Nice to meet you, Bria," he said.

"Oh my God, you too," she gushed. "You guys make a hot couple."

"We're not a couple," I said quickly. "We're just friends."

"Oh OK," Bria smiled.

The lights changed and we drove off, leaving the squealing girls behind.

"I love that you make an effort to talk to your fans," I said. "I bet that just made her day."

Harry didn't answer, but looked straight ahead at the road, one finger absent-mindedly touching his lip.

"So where are we going tonight?" I asked.

Harry was quiet for a moment before he said, "I thought we could go to this place called Craig's. I've been a few times and it's really nice." He kept his eyes fixed on the road and didn't look at me.

"Sounds good," I said, and silence descended again. A couple of minutes passed. "You're quiet," I remarked.

"Sorry," he said, offering no explanation.

Okaaayyyyyyy.

I pulled my phone out and texted Sarah back from earlier.

To: Sarah: Hate to say I told you so but..... xxx

She texted back immediately.

From: Sarah: Lol, I know. Nicki's going crazy, saying they shouldn't have undermined you #bitterpill. Are you having an amazing time? xxx

To: Sarah: Yeah! Hung out with Lou Teasdale yesterday #justsayin #nobiggie

From: Sarah: WTF OMG SERIOUSLY??? xxx

To: Sarah: Yeah we went to the beach, she brought Lux with her xxx

From: Sarah: AS IF YOU ARE HANGING OUT WITH THESE PEOPLE xxx

To: Sarah: I know!!! Eeeeeek!!!! xxx

From: Sarah: Did you see the video of Niall falling over at that golf thingy yesterday?? FUNNIEST THING EVER. It's all over Twitter! #iloveniall xxx

To: Sarah: OMG no??? I haven't been on Twitter properly for ages! Apart from when Nick Grimshaw DM'd me... ;) xxx

From: Sarah: GRIMMY DM'D YOU???????? AAAAHHHHHHH!!!! You have to introduce me!!! #dontforgetwhereyoubelong xxx

To: Sarah: #stopusinghashtags xxx

"What are you smiling at?" Harry asked, and I realised I had been grinning stupidly as I was texting.

"Just Sarah," I grinned. "Apparently Niall fell over at some golf event yesterday and it's all over Twitter?"

"Yeah he texted me about it last night," Harry said.

We pulled up at another set of traffic lights and out of the corner of my eye I saw a photographer lean out of the back of a car and start taking pictures of us. I instantly dropped my head and stared down at my phone in my hand, opening Twitter to look for the video of Niall. Harry kept still and stared straight ahead, ignoring the guy's shouts. I willed the lights to change, and was glad when they finally did and our lane moved off, away from the intrusion.

"They're on to us today," I said, more to myself than to Harry.

"Yeah," he said.

Silence again.

"Are you alright?" I asked, reaching across and touching his hand.

He linked his pinky with mine and smiled at me. "Yeah, sorry, I was miles away," he said.

"Anywhere nice?" I teased.

"Hmmm," he said non-commitally, indicating and then pulling into a parking space at the side of the road. He pressed a button and the roof of the convertible slowly came up. I unbuckled my seatbelt and looked over at him, and he turned his face towards me. I couldn't see his eyes behind his sunglasses and I bit my lip nervously, wondering why the atmosphere seemed unsettled.

"You look sexy when you do that," he said, a lazy smile playing on his lips.

OK, maybe the atmosphere was all in my head. I blushed and bit my lip again involuntarily.

"Are you doing that on purpose?" he said, leaning closer to me.

I laughed. "No!" I said. "You're making me nervous, that's all."

We got out of the car and went into Dialog Cafe to get breakfast. Harry showed me the video of Niall falling over and we chuckled at it, watching it several times over. We went fairly unnoticed, and I managed to get out of Harry that the dress code for Craig's that evening was smart casual, and we would have security drop us off and pick us up. I dragged him round the Hollywood shops looking for an outfit and finally settled on a blush lace dress and matching heels. I'd picked up a great tan thanks to all the sunbathing, so I was happy to go with bare legs.

As we headed back to the car I caught sight of a souvenir shop, and darted in to buy a lilo for the pool. I was tempted by a black and red One Direction one, but decided to go with a clear pink one instead. (If I hadn't been hanging out with Harry Styles the 1D one would have won hands down.)

We hung out by the pool in the afternoon, and Harry made us some cocktails. By 6pm I was feeling a little tipsy, and headed upstairs to get ready for dinner. I curled my hair into soft waves and went for smoky eyes and nude lipgloss. I slipped into my new dress, and Harry came out of the bathroom and whistled.

"You look beautiful," he said, and my stomach performed its usual acrobatics.

"Thanks," I said as he came over to me and slipped his arms around my waist. He had that fresh-out-of-the-shower smell, and as he touched his lips to mine and I breathed in his aftershave, I felt a little lightheaded.

"Shall we just skip dinner and get straight into bed?" he murmured against my mouth, and I pulled away from his kiss in mock outrage.

"Is that usually how you treat a girl on a date?" I questioned, and he smiled.

"I've never had a date this hot before," he shot back.

"Oooh, point goes to you for that line, Styles," I said. "If only I was the type of girl who gets sucked in."

"Aren't you?" he said, raising one eyebrow. "Hmmm. Must try harder."

I reached up and wiped the print of my lipgloss off his lips, then gently traced my middle finger along his bottom lip, knowing it would drive him wild.

"Stop that," he murmured, and I gave him a flirty smile.

A knock at the front door signalled Harry's henchmen were ready to drive us into Hollywood for dinner, and we headed downstairs and out the front door.

Two bodyguards accompanied us in the car, and as we approached the restaurant I caught sight of a few paparazzi waiting outside. They clearly recognised Harry's car because they began clicking away before we'd even pulled up outside.

"Let's get inside as quickly as possible," Harry said. "Are you OK?"

"Yeah, fine," I said nervously. I was always terrified of falling flat on my face in front of these photographers. The thought of Niall tripping over whilst caddying for Rory McIlroy yesterday popped into my head. I let out a giggle and Harry looked at me questioningly, but I shook my head as the car came to a stop.

Dale, one of the security guards, jumped out and opened my door for me and I stepped out onto the pavement, Harry close behind. The camera flashes were blinding and everyone was shouting and pushing each other trying to get Harry's attention. He aimed a brief smile in one of the photographers' direction, and then gently guided me up to the door of the restaurant, his fingers lightly touching my arm.

Once inside we were led to our table and the waiter came straight over with a bottle of Dom Perignon and poured two glasses. I took a large sip to steady my nerves; the paparazzi had shaken me a bit. I hadn't expected them to be so rowdy.

"Are you sure you're ok?" Harry asked, leaning forward, his hands below the table.

"Yeah, I just wasn't expecting it," I said. "Sorry. I'm not used to all this." I smiled nervously.

"Don't apologise," he smiled back. "Comes with the territory with me, I'm afraid."

His eyes burned into mine. I felt the usual jolt in my stomach and I took another sip of champagne for dutch courage. Harry reached across the table and gently touched my fingers with his, sending an electric current up my arm. The alcohol seemed to have heightened my senses and accentuated my nerves.

We drank over three-quarters of the bottle before our food even arrived, and I'm a lightweight at the best of times. I was glad of the confidence it gave me, as I was feeling very much at a disadvantage in a swanky restaurant in Hollywood, surrounded by size zero women who all seemed very much at home. To his credit, Harry paid no attention to anyone but me, and if anyone did recognise him, they mustn't have been in the slightest bit interested because no one disturbed us. By the time we'd finished our dessert (and most of the second bottle of Dom Perignon) I was feeling more than a bit drunk.

"Do you want to go on somewhere after this?" Harry asked.

"Sure," I said. "Do you have somewhere in mind?"

"There's a club called Project, near Beverly Hills," he suggested.

"Sounds good to me," I said. "Are your henchmen coming too?"

"My henchmen??" Harry repeated, his face breaking into a grin.

"Oh yeah, sorry. It's what I call them in my head," I explained. Uh oh, drunk Jess was beginning to make an appearance.

He laughed and pulled his phone out to call them. When he finished the call he said to me, "They'll be here in a couple of minutes." He handed his card to the waiter.

"Please can I pay my way?" I said, pulling my own card out of my bag.

"Absolutely not," Harry said, shaking his head, and I smiled my thanks at him.

His phone pinged a minute later and he said, "The car's outside, and so are the paps."

"OK," I said. Harry threw a few notes on the table as a tip and we walked to the door. I could see the flashes beginning as they saw us through the glass.

"Will you be alright?" Harry asked, stopping and looking at me.

"Of course," I said.

He led the way through the door where two of his bodyguards were waiting to usher us the few steps to the car. Immediately the photographers began pushing and shoving, and the guard behind me yelled at them to get back. Harry stopped again and looked back at me to see what the shouting was all about, but as he did I got shoved from behind by a pap and I stumbled slightly, bumping into him.

"Can you stop pushing her please," Harry said sternly, while reaching out to me.

"I'm fine," I said, regaining my balance. He guided me in front of him, looking back at the guy who had pushed me, and I slid into the backseat of the car.

"Please be more careful," he said to him, before sliding in next to me and pulling the door shut. The paps swarmed the car, pushing their cameras against the darkened windows. I didn't know where to look so I stared at the back of the seat in front of me and avoided eye contact with everyone. The driver beeped the horn and slowly drove off, forcing them to scatter, and sped up once we were clear of them.

"Are you hurt?" Harry turned to me and asked, a look of concern on his face.

I fastened my seatbelt and looked out of the rear window. "I'm fine. Sorry about that," I said to Harry, keeping my expression serious." They must have known I'd be here tonight. Bloody paps. They're always following me."

He looked confused for a brief moment then caught the twinkle in my eye and we both began to laugh. "That guy was a bloody idiot," Harry said. "I couldn't believe it when he shoved you."

"No harm done," I said. "Although I think I may be a little bit hurt."

"Where?" he asked, frowning again.

"Just here," I said, placing my index finger on my lips and looking into his eyes.

"Oh no," he murmured. "We can't have that. Maybe I should kiss it better."

"Maybe you should," I agreed, leaning towards him and closing my eyes. His lips landed on mine sending shivers right through my body. I reached up to the collar of his shirt and pulled him closer to me, breathing in his aftershave and tasting the traces of champagne on his tongue as he slipped it into my mouth. Christ he was a good kisser.

"Better?" he asked after a couple of minutes.

"Much," I replied, feeling fuzzy and not because of the champagne.

We arrived at Project and there was no one outside. We quickly jumped out of the car with one of the bodyguards and the bouncers nodded us in. We walked up the steps and straight through to the VIP area, and Harry led me over to the bar. He ordered another bottle of Dom Perignon and while we waited I glanced around the club. It was fairly busy but nobody had batted an eyelid when we walked in. I wasn't sure if this was because no one had noticed Harry, or if no one particularly cared. Either way it was fine with me. The attention was more than a little overwhelming.

We sat down in a little booth in the corner, and Harry surprised me by pressing his lips against mine softly.

My heart rate instantly shot up as I pulled away in shock. "What are you doing?" I said. "Someone might see."

"No one's watching," he said, glancing over his shoulder and leaning into me again. It was taking every resolve I had to pull away.

"They might be," I said, pushing gently on his chest.

"Maybe I don't care."

"We both know you do," I said.

"Right now I don't," he replied.

"Right now you're drunk," I pointed out. "You'll care when it's all over Twitter, Sugarscape, Hollywood Life, The Daily Mail..."

Three more bodyguards arrived and nodded at Harry, who raised his glass at them all. They stood casually next to our booth, shielding us from view. Harry turned back to me.

"What's your excuse now?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at me.

I looked at him questioningly. "What do you mean, excuse?"

He shrugged, and stared at his glass of champagne. I nudged his knee with mine and he turned his head to look at me. I raised my eyebrows at him.

"Sometimes I don't get you," he said, staring back at his glass again. I didn't say anything but waited for him to continue. "You're so laid back with me it's like..."

"Harryyyyy!" a familiar voice shouted. We both looked up and saw Lou Teasdale sliding into the seat opposite us. "Hi Jess!" she beamed.

"Hi," I smiled back, as Harry leaned across the table and hugged her. I was happy to see her, but her timing could have been better. I wanted to know what he had been about to say, as I had a feeling it may have explained some of the odd reactions I'd had from him over the past couple of days.

"What are you doing here?" Harry asked.

"I'm here with some friends - Erin and Jack," she said. "They're over by the bar so I thought I'd come and say hi and see if we could join you?"

"Course," Harry said. He turned to me and put his hand on my thigh. "That ok with you babe?"

Oh my God, he just called me babe. He actually just called me babe. In front of Lou as well! "That's fine," I squeaked, unable to stop the grin from breaking on my face.

Lou waved her friends over and they slid into the booth with us and introduced themselves. Their drinks arrived at the table and Harry topped up his and my glass with our champagne. I could feel myself getting more and more drunk but I didn't care, I was having such a good time.

It was gone 2am when Harry slid out of the booth to go to the bathroom, and Lou scooted into his place next to me.

"So, you and Harry," she said, so no one else could hear. "What's the deal?"

"What do you mean?" I asked. It felt like I said that a lot.

"I mean, are you into him or what?" she smiled.

"Of course I am!" I said. "Who isn't?!" I rolled my eyes.

"Yeah but are you into him?" she emphasized. "You know what I mean."

I sighed. "Isn't it completely obvious?"

"Well, no, not really," she said. "He's clueless. You've got him completely hooked."

My heart began to pound. "What do you mean, hooked?"

"I mean, the boy's got it bad for you. You're all he talked about on tour."

I smiled. "I find that hard to believe."

"Seriously," she said. "He's always glued to his phone anyway, but it was practically surgically attached to his hand. And he had this cute little goofy grin on his face whenever you guys were texting."

I tried to process this information but the copious amounts of champagne I had consumed that evening were making it rather difficult. So I took another gulp from my glass because, y'know, that was a really good idea.

"So are you into him?" Lou asked.

"Of course I am," I said, trying to focus on her face. "How could I not be? He's gorgeous, and funny, and sexy, and interesting... he's amazing. He's Harry Styles for God's sake. So what's he doing with me?"

"You've got him hooked," she said again. "For Harry, it's all about the chase, the excitement. He could have pretty much any woman he wants, so it's all too easy for him. He can't figure you out because you don't give in to him. You keep him on his toes and he can't get enough of it."

My heart was pounding harder as her words sank in. "Yeah, until the next girl comes along," I said. "As you said, he can have anyone he wants. How can I trust someone who has that kind of choice at their fingertips? I can't let myself get in too deep because it'll be even harder when it all comes crashing down."

"You can't let his reputation colour your view of him," Lou said, shaking her head. "If you want to know something about him, ask him. He won't lie to you."

"It's not that simple," I said. "I feel like I'm not good enough for him. He only has to look at me to make my knees go weak. He exudes this confidence... just his presence lights up the entire room... how can I compare to that? I'm just plain and ordinary. He hangs out with models and singers like Nadine Leopold and Taylor Swift. I'm just not in the same league." It was as if every worry and insecurity I'd had over the last few weeks was pouring out of my mouth.

"Why don't you let Harry be the judge of that?" Lou smiled. "I've seen the way he looks at you. And I've heard him talking about you. A LOT. He took abuse from your older brother on the phone in Dubai and threw the entire stadium schedule out. He asked Niall to call your little sister because he knew what it would mean to her, and to you. Does that sound like someone who's going to drop you as soon as a pretty girl bats her eyelashes at him? Don't be afraid to fall for him."

"He's very easy to fall for," I nodded.

Lou's smile widened. "Is he?" she asked me, her eyes sparkling.

"Is who what?" Harry asked, appearing next to us.

"Wow, you're drunk," Lou observed.

"Mmmm," Harry mumbled.

"If I were you, babe, I'd call it a night," she advised.

Harry nodded and waved to one of the bodyguards standing nearby. "You ready to go?" he said to me, resting his hand on my knee, and I nodded and smiled at him.

Harry went over and said bye to Lou's friends Erin and Jack and as I stood up Lou grabbed my arm. "I'm not trying to interfere or anything," she said seriously. "I know I'm not telling you anything Harry hasn't already told you himself."

"It's ok," I said.

"He's one of the nicest guys you'll ever meet," she said sincerely. "He's so genuine. Just remember that."

Harry appeared at my side again and rested his hand on my waist. "The car's here," he said in my ear, and his breath tickled my skin. I waved bye to Lou and she gave Harry a hug and said something in his ear I couldn't hear, and then we walked across the club to the exit. As we reached the door I was ready for the flashes, and kept my head down as I tried to walk steadily to the car. This time they were shouting not only Harry's name but mine too. I had Dale, the bodyguard, to my right but one of the paps grabbed my left arm as I walked past, forcing me to stop and I gasped.

"Jess - is Harry good in bed?" he blustered.

I yanked my arm away from him and turned to Dale in horror. Harry's arm slid around my shoulders as he steered me away from the sleazy photographer and Dale stepped the other side of me in between me and the pap. I couldn't hear what they were saying because of all the shouting and commotion but I imagined the pap was getting a dressing down. We got in the car and just as Harry pulled the door shut and Dale climbed into the front passenger seat I heard one of them shout, "Let's follow them!"

"What the fuck?" Harry muttered as the car pulled away.

Dale ducked and looked in the wing mirror. "They're following us," he said.

We drove along Sunset Boulevard and when I turned around I could see a car behind us.

"Stop the car," Harry said, after a couple of minutes.

"What?" Dale asked, looking uncomfortably at Harry in the rearview mirror.

"Seriously, stop the car," he commanded.

"Do you need to be sick?" I asked.

"No, I need to tell these paps to stop following us," he said abruptly. "Can you pull over, please," he said to the driver, who exchanged looks with Dale and shrugged, before indicating, slowing down and coming to a stop at the side of the road. I watched as the car behind us slowed too, and pulled alongside us.

Harry wound his window down. "Can you stop following us, please," he called.

"Hey Harry, I'm Chris," the pap said, as if he'd not heard what Harry said.

"Hi Chris," Harry replied. "Can you stop following us? And put your camera away please," he added, turning his head to address another photographer hanging out of the window, apparently filming us. I recognised him as the one who had asked me if Harry was good in bed.

"Let us take some pictures," the sleazeball said.

"You," Harry said, pointing at the sleaze, "you are really rude."

"Harry," I muttered, putting my hand on his arm.

"Is that your girlfriend?" the sleaze asked, pointing at me.

"Please, just stop following us and leave us alone," Harry said. "It's 2 o'clock in the morning, I'm really tired. Go home."

"Sure, no problem," Chris said, putting his camera down.

"Is your girlfriend going home with you?" the sleaze asked, still filming the whole conversation.

"Your friend is really rude," Harry said to Chris. "I've asked him to stop filming me, but he carries on. Seriously, stop it."

"Put the camera away, dude," Chris muttered to the sleaze as Harry began winding the window up.

"Thank you," Harry said to Chris. "Have a lovely evening."

I smirked at the lack of sincerity in his voice as the car drove off again, and he smiled sheepishly as our eyes met. "He really pissed me off, speaking to you like that," he admitted.

"He was vile," I agreed.

He reached over and interlaced his fingers with mine, and I felt the heat spread up my arm.

It took us about 15 minutes to get back to Harry's, and thankfully the paps seemed to have taken notice of Harry's request and backed off. He let us in the front door and we walked through into the kitchen. I threw my bag onto the counter and pulled out my phone, and Harry poured us a glass of water each.

"I never replied to Grimmy's DM," I remembered, opening up Twitter. Harry came over to me and I pulled his face down to mine and snapped a selfie of us side by side and sent it to Grimmy.

"Did you have a good time tonight?" Harry asked.

"It was amazing," I said, standing up and wrapping my arms around his waist. He smiled down at me. "Thanks for dinner," I said. "And all the champagne."

"Glad you enjoyed it," he said. "I had a great time too."

We went upstairs and I stepped out of my heels. Harry walked up behind me, scooped my hair over my shoulder and planted a soft kiss on the back of my neck. In one swift motion he unzipped my dress so it fell to the floor and I squealed in mock protest. "I've been waiting to do that all evening," he said in my ear, wrapping his arms round my waist from behind and nuzzling my neck.

"You have far too many clothes on," I murmured, and turned round to face him, pushing him back so he stumbled and fell on the bed, laughing. I straddled him and he sat up and kissed me, squeezing my hips gently in a way that let me know exactly what was on his mind. I smiled against his lips and pushed him back again, letting him know we were definitely on the same page at that moment....