I pressed my body up against Adam's as I kissed him with as much fire and passion as I could. He placed one hand gently on my back, as though inviting me closer. I let my hands slip from his neck to the buttons on his shirt and began undoing them, and he rested his fingers on my waist. I opened his shirt to run my fingers over his chest, and was surprised at how smooth and muscly he was. I had never really noticed before.

He seemed hesitant, like he didn't want to be the one to initiate this, but I was happy to be in control of it. I was determined to get Harry out of my head.

Adam's hands gently slipped under the hem of my top and stroked the bottom of my back. I broke away from him and pulled my top off before reaching for his face again and pulling it down to mine.

"Christ," he whispered just before our lips met again. His arms slid around me, crushing me against his chest and I leaned backwards, pulling him on top of me on the bed. The room began to spin as I fumbled clumsily with the button on his jeans, desperately trying to undo it so I could pull them off.

"Woah, woah, take it easy," he murmured gently, so instead I unfastened my own jeans and slid them down my thighs. "Jess," he said uncertainly, but I silenced him with another kiss and he lay his full weight on me as he kissed me back. I tugged impatiently at his jeans again, and he pulled away from me to look me in the eye questioningly.

"What?" I asked, breathing heavily, trying to focus on his face.

"Nothing - you just seem different tonight, that's all," he said, his breathing matching mine.

"Yeah, well, I finally realised what I want," I slurred. I pulled him down to me again and kissed him deeply, but he pulled away again after a couple of seconds.

"Jess," he said in a strangled voice as I reached between us and ran my hand over the front of his half-open jeans. I could feel him, long and hard.

"Come on," I said, in my best attempt at seductive. He closed his eyes for a moment as I rubbed my hand over him with increasing pressure.

I pushed myself up a bit and kissed him again, more roughly this time as my impatience grew at his hesitance. We kissed like this for a couple of seconds and I pulled him down to me again but to my annoyance he pulled away again.

"Jess - stop," he said.

"What do you mean, stop?" I demanded thickly.

"Just... stop," he said, pushing himself off the bed.

"Why?" I asked, feeling a sting of rejection as I sat up in my underwear and looked at him. "Don't you want to?"

"Of course I do," he muttered. "But you don't."

"What?" I gaped. "Don't be ridiculous. I wouldn't be doing this if I didn't."

"You're drunk," he stated. "You're slurring your words. As much as I want to, I'm not going to take advantage of you while you're like this."

"I am not drunk!" I declared indignantly, sweeping my arm wildly and knocking the lamp off the bedside table. "Shit!" I swore, scrambling to pick it up. It took me a couple of attempts to stand it back up properly.

"You are," he said softly, pulling his shirt back on. "And I don't think you really want this. With me."

I was beginning to feel exposed and vulnerable in my underwear while he was fully clothed, and he seemed to sense this because he grabbed the dressing gown that was hanging on a hook by the bathroom door and handed it to me.

"I do," I protested weakly as I slipped it on and haphazardly pulled it closed.

Adam sat on the edge of the bed next to me. "I don't believe you," he said, not unkindly.

I leaned forward towards him again, trying to kiss him, in a last ditch attempt to get things moving, but he leaned back.

"Jess," he said softly, and I sat back and sighed. "You're still hung up on your ex, aren't you?"

"What?" I yelped, feeling the blood drain from my face.

"It's obvious," he said, a little sadly. "I'm not the one you want. You're using me to get over him. And that's not fair on me."

"No I'm not!" I lied, indignantly.

"You are," he said in a resigned tone. "I had an inkling when you first mentioned him, on one of our very first dates, that you weren't properly over him. And everything suddenly makes sense." He looked at me straight. "You saw him today, didn't you?"

I stared at him in disbelief. "How did you...?"

"I put two and two together." He sighed again. "It's fucking Harry Styles isn't it?"

I rolled my eyes. "As in One Direction's Harry Styles?" I scoffed, panicking inside and stalling for time. The last thing I wanted to do was drop either of us in it.

"As in One Direction's Harry Styles," he repeated, slowly.

"Don't be ridiculous," I slurred.

"I googled you, Jess," he said quietly. "I googled you and Harry earlier, when I went to the bathroom at the restaurant. You were acting so weirdly when I mentioned him, and you weren't surprised that I'd claimed to have seen him at this hotel. You knew it was him that I'd seen, even though I didn't know his name. According to articles online you were going out with him a few months ago, and there's a picture of you on Twitter with him earlier on today, in his car. It fits in with you not being able to talk about him. You're bound by some legal contract aren't you, preventing you from discussing your relationship publicly?"

"You are so far off the mark," I said, nervously, trying to speak clearly.

"I think I'm spot on," he said, shaking his head. He looked at me for a moment. "I get it - you can't talk about him. But it doesn't change the fact that you're still in love with him, and you don't want me."

"I can talk about whomever I want," I said truthfully. "My past relationships are private, and I don't want to discuss them. But if I did, I would. But I don't want to," I reiterated. I wasn't doing a very good job of acting sober.

"Then at least be honest with me," he said. "You still have unresolved feelings towards your ex-boyfriend, haven't you?"

There was no point denying it. I wasn't about to admit to my relationship with Harry, but it was safe to admit this. I had strung Adam along for long enough.

"Yes," I said in a small voice.

He sighed. "I wish you would have just been honest with me."

"I don't want to feel this way!" I cried, my voice shaking. I gritted my teeth - I had done enough weeping over Harry tonight. "I hoped the feelings would fade, in time. But they haven't."

Adam turned away and disappeared into the bathroom and I quickly wiped away the beginnings of tears. When he returned he was shoving his toiletries in his holdall.

"What are you... what are you doing?" I asked, hearing how fuzzy my own voice sounded. Damn those cocktails.

"I'm going to see if there's a spare room I can stay in for tonight," he said, without looking at me. "I'll head home in the morning."

I felt terrible. "Adam," I began, but he didn't turn around. "We... I... you don't have to do that," I protested.

"I think it's for the best," he muttered, picking up his jacket and keys.

"Honestly, you can stay here tonight," I said, scrambling off the bed hastily. "I'm not going to kick you out. This is all my fault."

"It's fine," he said. "It would feel weird, staying." He looked up and met my gaze. "Will you be alright? You've had a lot to drink."

"Yes, I'll - I'll be fine," I said, taken aback at the concern in his voice. I felt even more guilty at how nice he was being even though I had behaved disgracefully pretty much since he arrived.

"OK," he nodded. "Take care, Jess."

"Wait," I said, grabbing his arm. He looked back at me. "I'm so sorry," I said, sincerely. "I've made a complete mess of things. You are such an amazing guy, and I don't deserve you being so nice to me. You treated me so well, and I've been a bitch in return. I never meant to do that. I'm... I'm sorry," I finished awkwardly.

He gave me a soft smile. "Thanks. It's fine. Don't beat yourself up about it, yeah?"

He leant forward and gave me a gentle kiss on the cheek, and then walked quickly out of the door, closing it behind him.

The click almost taunted me; the sound of Harry's earlier departure resonated in my head and I sat on the bed and let the tears fall again.

I wondered, probably for the thousandth time, when my life had become such a mess. Each time I came back to the same answer: the day I met Harry Styles. And each time I came to this answer, I seemed to be in a worse place than last time.

I stood up and staggered to the bathroom. I filled the tiny glass with water, drank it, filled it again, drank that and then refilled it and carried it clumsily back to the side of the bed. I turned all the lights out in the room and switched my phone back on. I had almost fallen asleep when I heard a text message come through. I groaned and opened it. It was from earlier in the evening, in response to my last message.

From: Harry: This is killing me xx

I was wide awake instantly, and furious.

With trembling hands I swiped the screen and called him. He answered after a couple of rings.

"Jess? Are you alright?" He sounded worried sick.

"No," I said, my voice trembling. "I am not alright. Everything is ruined because of you."

"Oh my god - what's happened? Has he - has he hurt you?"

"Who, Adam?" I tried to snap, but my mouth wouldn't move as fast as I wanted it to, thanks to all the alcohol. "No, he wouldn't hurt me. That's your department. Shagging models behind my back, breaking up with me, treating me like shit..."

"You're drunk," he said softly.

"So what if I am?!" I half-shouted, furiously. "Who are you to judge?"

"Jess, I'm not judging, I'm just worried," he said gently. Why wasn't he shouting back, damn it? I was furious and I wanted to scream at him.

"Well don't be!" I slurred, banging my fist onto the duvet cover. "I am fine now that you're out of my life. I am so sick of crying over you! I'm sick of it. Sick of it!" I shouted, and took a ragged breath, only to realise I was crying again.

"Please don't cry," he whispered.

I didn't answer. Instead I lay there on the bed with the phone pressed to my ear and sobbed.

"What happened?" he asked after I had begun to calm down.

"He's gone," I said, bluntly.

"Did you sleep with him?" he asked, almost fearfully.

"No."

He let out a sigh of relief. "Thank God."

Not through choice! I wanted to shout, but what would be the point in hurting him further?

"Why do you always do this?" I sniffed. "Just when I think I'm getting over you, you turn everything upside down again. I can't keep doing this. I'm a wreck because of you."

"Baby I'm so sorry," he said, sadly.

"Don't call me that!" I shouted. "I'm not your baby! That belongs in a different time and place. That was when you loved me."

"I never stopped, Jess," he sighed. "I'm sorry I made you think I did. If I could go back and change everything I would, I swear."

"You can't just expect to click your fingers and make everything OK with just one conversation!" I wailed. "You've had weeks - months - to get your head around this! I've had about three hours!"

"I know," he said, and he sounded like he was lying down with the phone pressed close to his face. The thought made my stomach flip. "It took me a long time to come to terms with it all. I was so angry for such a long time. I still am, when I think about it for too long."

"Why?" I whispered miserably. "Why did she do it? Why couldn't she leave you alone?"

I was obviously referring to Nadine, and he understood.

"I think she was probably hoping we would end up together that night," he said. "But it backfired. Sara had no idea what the plan was, other than that Nadine wanted me to get off my face so she had a chance with me again. They don't talk now - Sara and Nadine."

"I don't blame them. And I hate both of them," I said, childishly. "Oh God, I feel sick."

"Jess? Are you alright?"

"The room's spinning," I slurred. I sat up and let the phone fall on the bed while I tried to find something to focus on to gain perspective, but it was pitch black and I felt like the bed was swaying. I pushed the covers back and stumbled to the bathroom in the dark, pausing to fumble for the light switch. I managed to find it and flicked it on, and only just made it to the toilet before vomitting.

Once I had finished I rinsed my mouth out, brushed my teeth and drank another couple of glasses of water, before climbing back into bed with the lights on. I picked my phone up to see the call with Harry was still connected.

"Hello?" I croaked.

"Jess? Thank God - are you alright?" He sounded stricken.

"I've just been sick," I mumbled. "I've had a lot to drink."

"I'm coming over there."

There was a rustling sound, like someone sliding out of bed.

"No!" I shouted. "Don't you fuckįng dare! I told you to stay away!"

"I'm worried about you," he said after a pause. He sounded hurt.

"If you come here now I swear to God I will never speak to you again!" I said, savagely. "For once in your life just listen to me, and stop thinking you know best!"

"OK," he said, softly. "OK. I hear you. I'm sorry."

"Good!" I said, forcefully.

"I'm trying, Jess," he said, after a moment of silence. "You said you didn't want any contact with me and I respected that. I walked away, like you wanted me to."

"Yeah and then you texted me an hour later."

"I had to let you know we'd been seen. It was either that or let someone from Modest get in touch with you. I didn't think you'd want that, either. But I didn't think it was fair to you not to give you some sort of warning that the paps might be waiting for you."

"Whatever." I was feeling sleepy now.

"I am listening to you," he said, softly. "I'm trying to play by your rules. I don't want you to hate me."

"I don't," I mumbled.

"Don't you?" His voice was hopeful.

"I hate Sara. And Nadine. And the paps."

"And Karen?" he teased.

"She's just got your best interests at heart," I yawned. "Even if she is a ruthless bitch. I don't hate her, though."

"Well that's progress, I suppose," he said. I could hear the smile in his voice.

"Mmmhh," I mumbled.

"Are you going to sleep?"

"Yeah," I sighed.

"OK. Call me if you need me. I can be there in a few minutes."

"What?" I said in alarm. "Where are you?"

"I'm still in Cardiff," he said, awkwardly. "I couldn't face driving back to London after our talk. I felt like shit. So I booked in to the same hotel we stayed in after we played the gig here. I'm... I'm in the same room."

The same room where he had first told me he loved me. The significance wasn't lost on me.

"Oh Harry," I sighed.

"I'm driving home in the morning," he said quickly, sounding embarrassed.

"Where? London or Holmes Chapel?"

"London first, to get my stuff. Then I'm going home to my mum's to hide out for a bit."

"Oh," I murmured.

"Will you be OK getting to work tomorrow?"

Oh balls. Should I tell him I wasn't in work? Would he want to meet up? Did I want him to ask?

"I booked the day off," I muttered quickly.

"Oh," he said.

Silence.

I knew what he was thinking. I knew him well enough to know he wanted to ask to see me, but didn't want to píss me off by doing exactly what I'd told him not to do. But part of me wanted him to ask.

I was aware how complicated this was, and how contradictory I was being.

"Can I call you in the morning, just to check you're OK?" he asked eventually.

"Yeah," I said, letting out a large breath.

"Will you answer?" he asked cheekily, and I couldn't help smiling.

"Yeah, I'll answer," I replied.

"OK," he said, and the smile was back in his voice again. "I guess I'll speak to you tomorrow, then."

"Yeah," I said. "Yeah, I guess you will."

----****----

So on Friday I had a conference call at work with one of the top guys at Shell (the fuel company), some of the Shell customer service team at the call centre in Manila, and some IT guys in India. They were sharing my screen remotely so they could see the problems we've been having, when the top guy asked me to minimise all my windows, which revealed my Harry Styles desktop background. I hastily opened up the Shell website, and began to use it, when the top guy said, "hold on, we can't see anything. I can only see Harry Styles."

OMFG.

So after a minute of opening and closing the window with no change to their view, I tried quickly switching the screen share to my second screen (which has a picture of Louis singing to me at our Cardiff concert), and then switched back to my main screen again. I asked if they could see the website now, to which the top guy replied, "No, I can now see a guy in a Black Sabbath tshirt - I think it's another member of One Direction?"

So after flapping around a bit I asked if they could see the Shell website yet, and he said, "No, I can see Harry Styles again."

Like OMFG STOP SAYING YOU CAN SEE HARRY STYLES.

Yeah, so that was embarrassing.

In other news, Louis is now officially a dad! And from the sounds of things he's happy about it, which makes me happy. Congratulations to him and Briana xxx

If you would like to vote for No Control (or any of my books) in the Fanfiction Awards, please see the previous chapter for how to vote. Thank you so much to the people who have voted so far!

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