I'd only intended to doze for half an hour in Harry's arms, but it was late morning when I felt him stir beside me, and I opened my eyes to see him rubbing his left eye with the heel of his hand and yawning.

"We should probably think about getting up," he said reluctantly, and I nodded my agreement. "Are you working tomorrow?" he asked.

"Yeah," I said, stretching and sitting up in bed. "I'll have to leave after dinner this evening. I don't want to be driving too late."

"Have you got room in your car for a little one?" he asked, reaching up and twirling a piece of my hair around his finger. "Me," he elaborated with a roll of his eyes when I gave him a confused look.

"Of course!" I beamed. "I just assumed you'd be staying here with your family for a bit."

"No, we're presenting Simon Cowell with a Music Industry Trusts Award tomorrow night," he explained.

"Wow, no rest for the wicked," I remarked.

"Yeah," he said. "I've got a few days off after that, though. Then we've got the Radio One Live Lounge the week after, we're filming the Jonathan Ross show, we've got X Factor, the London Session..."

"Jonathan Ross?!" I squeaked, cutting him off, and he gave me an indulgent look.

"Yeah, it won't be screened for a few weeks though."

"Oh my God," I breathed. "That is so exciting."

He smiled at my excitement for a moment, and then his face turned serious.

"Yeah, um... so I was wondering if maybe you wanted to come over to New York and LA with me, later in the month? 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? Maybe we could even go on holiday or something, once the last of my commitments are over? I mean, it's just an idea, we don't have to..."

He trailed off and looked at the wall while I tried not to hyperventilate.

"Harry," I said, finding my voice after what felt like an eternity of awkward silence, "I would absolutely LOVE that!"

"Really?" he said, looking at me again and smiling, and stroking my arm softly with his fingertips. He hooked his arm behind his head. "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," I agreed.

"So... yes to both?" he pressed. "Fly out with us, and come on holiday with me?"

"Yes to both," I beamed. "Wait, who's 'us'?"

"The band," he frowned. "We'll be flying out on the jet together. Will that be a problem?"

"Will that be a problem?!" I echoed. "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," he grinned.

"I'm allowed a relapse periodically," I explained, and he gave a slow nod of understanding, his trademark smirk fixed firmly on his face.

"So do you think you'll be able to get the time off work?" he asked.

"I don't see why not," I replied. "I used some holidays back in April to come and see you in LA, but other than a couple of odd days here and there I haven't really taken many others, so I have quite a bit of time still to take. I was just going to ask to be paid for them as I didn't have anything planned."

"Well now you do," he said, leaning up on his elbows and kissing my nose. "I can't wait to take you out on a proper date again. If you want to, that is," he added hastily.

"Of course," I smiled.

"OK good," he said. "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."

I shook my head. "We take it at our pace," I corrected him. "We agree on this sort of stuff together, OK?"

"OK," he said, reaching up and brushing my hair back behind my ear. "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," I said, honestly. "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?" he asked. "It's fine if you do. I won't be offended."

"What do you want to do?" I deflected, stalling for time. I didn't know how to answer him, as I hadn't made my mind up on this yet.

"Well, I want to shout from the rooftops that the most beautiful girl in the world has agreed to go out with me again," he replied softly, and I blushed and looked away. "And I'm past caring what the world says about me, as long as I've got you by my side," he continued. "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 nodded slowly as I listened to his words. Everything he had said made sense and he was clearly the voice of experience, having dealt with all of this for five years. And I sort of felt like he had articulated everything I was feeling, but had been unable to put into words.

"I'm on board with that," I told him. "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."

"Admit it," he smirked. "The sneaking around turns you on."

"Massively," I admitted, and he pulled me down to him and pressed his lips against mine.

"I knew it," he breathed.

I slipped on top of him and sat astride his waist, and his hands wandered up my top again.

"Harry," I said breathessly, "we should really get up and see your family."

"Five more minutes won't hurt," he whispered, lifting his hips so I could feel him hardening underneath me. "You need to take care of this first."

"That was self-inflicted," I accused as his lips moved to my jawline.

"I challenge any guy not to get a boner with you sitting on top of him," he murmured against my neck as his thumbs grazed my nipples, and I let out a sigh. "Now ride me hard and fast," he instructed, nudging his erection against me again. "I bet I can make you come in under two minutes."

"Not a chance," I teased as he lifted me up so he could slip inside me.

Fifty seven seconds later, he won the bet.

~~~

"Well well," Harry's uncle Mike said jovially when we entered the kitchen half an hour later, freshly showered. "The love birds have surfaced!"

"Morning," Harry grinned cheekily, heading straight for the kettle and the teabags. "You want tea, baby?" he asked me.

"Yes please," I said, feeling very overwhelmed at the sight of Harry's extended family gathered in Anne's spacious kitchen. It was one thing meeting them backstage at a show with a huge crowd and plenty of Prosecco. But being in a confined space, with them all staring knowingly at us, no doubt poised to ask awkward questions, was an entirely different kettle of fish.

"Sleep well?" Mike leered at us, and Dee gave him a light smack on the arm.

"Like a baby," Harry beamed, turning round and leaning back against the kitchen worktop with his arms folded. "You?"

"Fine thanks," Mike chuckled, winking. "How about you, Jess?"

I cleared my throat, my face on fire. "Fine thank you," I squeaked, and Harry pushed himself away from the worktop and linked his arms around my waist, pulling me against him.

"Mike, stop it," Anne scolded, standing up from the kitchen table and walking over to the oven. "There's some breakfast left, if you want it, but it might be a bit dry," she said to me and Harry, pulling the door open and taking out a dish containing a few sausages, a couple of rashers of bacon and some hash browns. "I'll be starting on a roast shortly. I thought we could eat mid afternoon so you're not too late heading back to London."

We shared the breakfast leftovers, and I answered the standard girlfriend questions being thrown at me: What do you do for a living? How did you meet Harry? What do your parents do? Do you have any brothers or sisters?

I had been in this position before with previous boyfriends, but never had I wanted to make such a good impression. I knew everyone would be fiercely protective over Harry, given his worldwide fame, and I was keen to prove I was worthy of his love. I wasn't sure how much of our history was common knowledge in the family, but thankfully the conversation remained neutral and didn't stray into awkward territory, apart from the odd knowing leer from Mike.

It was too cold and wet for a walk that afternoon, so while Anne and Dee cooked a huge roast dinner, the rest of us relaxed in the lounge watching films and playing Scrabble. I was squashed up against Harry on the sofa, his arm loosely behind my back. His fingers were permanently twiddling the ends of my hair or grazing my waist, and more than once I found myself inadvertently leaning towards him, to be closer to him. His lips brushed against my cheek, my shoulder, my back, my hair; more times than I could count. I just didn't want to stop touching him, and he didn't seem to want to stop touching me either.

Harry defeated everyone at Scrabble and wasn't shy about celebrating his victory, earning a couple of mildy-irritated comments from Gemma. We all squeezed around the dining table afterwards to eat dinner, and it was just beginning to get dark when we reluctantly gathered our stuff together and said our goodbyes to everyone, ready to make the journey back down to London.

"When am I likely to see you again?" Anne asked as she hugged Harry by the front door.

"I'm not sure," he replied, darting a glance at me. "I don't know what our plans are yet."

"I haven't got anything much planned at all," I offered. "I'll probably see Callie one night this week, but we haven't arranged anything yet."

"I noticed there was a flyer on the fridge for a bonfire and fireworks display at the Victoria Club next Saturday," Harry suggested, glancing at Anne and then at me. "I wondered if you wanted to come back up here again for that? If you're not busy."

"Sounds great," I said happily.

I had to admit, I was falling in love with Holmes Chapel almost as much as I'd fallen in love with Harry. Seeing him so relaxed and happy amongst his family made my heart swell. Chilling out on the sofa with him at Anne's house was fast becoming one of my favourite things to do.

We got into my car and drove out of the drive, onto the road and off in the direction of the motorway.

"This has been one of the best weekends ever," he sighed, leaning back in the passenger seat and resting his hand on my thigh.

"It has been pretty amazing, hasn't it," I agreed. "Your family are really nice. Although it was terrifying meeting them all."

He grinned at me. "You handled it brilliantly. Even Uncle Mike. And he's always a handful."

"He was funny," I chuckled. "I was just really eager to make a good impression."

"They loved you," he said reassuringly. "How could they not?"

"I hope so," I said nervously, chewing my lip.

"Of course. And at least they weren't threatening to break parts of your body, like Calvin did when I first met him."

I couldn't help laughing at this, and when I looked over at Harry he was laughing too. "True," I acknowledged. "I'd better let my parents know we're officially back together, before we're spotted out somewhere and the rumours start again."

"Is it wrong that I'm quietly terrified of your brother?" Harry sighed, closing his eyes.

I reached over and slipped my hand into his. "You know he's all talk, don't you?" I said. "Well, mostly."

"Mostly?" Harry echoed nervously, looking over at me.

"Well... there was this one time when he threw the lad I was seeing against a wall," I said timidly. "But only because he found out we'd started sleeping together!" I added hastily when Harry looked horrified. "I was seventeen!" I continued. "It was my first serious boyfriend!"

"I don't know which part of that I dislike that most," he confessed. "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," I pointed out. "And Calvin has calmed down a lot since then."

"Hooray," Harry muttered sarcastically. "Can I put some good music on?" he asked after a moment, reaching into his pocket for his phone."

"I note the unnecessary 'good' thrown in there," I remarked dryly.

"Yeah, none of your teeny-bop shıt," he declared.

"I hope you're not classing One Direction in that category!" I scolded.

"Of course not," he scoffed. "But we're not listening to that either."

"Spoilsport," I muttered.

"I'll put my songs on shuffle," he offered, plugging his phone into the USB port by the gearstick.

"I don't know why we can't just have the radio on," I argued.

"Because my musical taste is far better and broader than anything on Radio One," he replied.

"Don't let Grimmy hear you say that," I teased, and he chuckled and then fell silent as a Paul Simon track began to play.

"So... this first serious boyfriend of yours," he began after a minute.

"Mmm?"

He was quiet for a few moments, seemingly deciding how to find the right words.

"Who the fucķ is he?" he asked eventually, and I started to laugh.

"Smooth," I joked, and he gave a sheepish nod. "He was a guy I went out with at school," I said.

"Darren?" Harry asked.

I frowned. "No, but how do you know about him?"

"Maddie mentioned him on Facetime in LA," he confessed. "The guy whose tshirt you slept in, or something?"

"Bloody hell, you've got a memory like an elephant!" I exclaimed. "Darren was my first ever boyfriend, but we didn't have sex. I was fifteen, and we just sort of... fooled around. Ryan was the one Calvin pushed against a wall. I was with him for a couple of years. He was my first love."

"Why did it end?" Harry asked.

"It just sort of fizzled out," I shrugged. "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?" he asked casually, staring at the road in front of us.

"I had another serious-ish relationship for about a year while I was at uni," I said. "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," he nodded.

"What about you?" I asked. "Or am I going to regret asking that question?"

"To be honest, there hasn't really been anyone particularly serious that I haven't really mentioned before," he said. "Other than maybe Kendall. But the rest were sort of casual, made out to be more by the media."

"Kendall? As in, Jenner?" I asked.

"Yeah," he said. "She's the one I stayed the most friendly with. We still hang out sometimes when I'm in LA."

My stomach gave a nervous flip. "When you say 'hang out'...," I began, hesitantly.

"I just mean hang out," he clarified. "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?" I asked. Why did this thought suddenly fill me with dread?

"Well, not as serious as Nadine," he replied, and I felt myself relax a little. "But I did care about her a lot. And still do."

"Um, OK," I said, not really sure how to respond to this.

"Not in the way you're thinking," he said quickly. Undoubtedly my face was giving me away. "I mean she's a really good friend. I just don't see her much anymore."

"OK," I said again.

"Is it?" he asked.

"Of course," I replied. "I would never try to make you feel bad for being friends with somebody." Even your five-foot-ten, Kardashian-related, model ex-girlfriend, I added silently.

Stop it, I scolded myself. Being jealous was no way to start off this second attempt at our relationship.

"So what about Nadine?" I asked, deciding that if Harry had probed me about my exes, I was entitled to do the same. "What happened with her?"

We were approaching the junction to the motorway, and I indicated left and moved onto the slip road, heading south on the M6.

"She was really jealous," he sighed. "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." He paused and I stayed silent, waiting for him to continue. "The relationship was intense when we were together, but she was insecure when we were apart," he explained. "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."

"It's never nice being the one who gets dumped," I remarked.

"Especially when it's because someone doesn't trust you, when you've never given them reason not to," he replied. "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," I said, lacing my fingers into his. "I was scared too, for the same reasons. I was scared I'd read it wrong."

"We're a pair of numpties aren't we," he grinned, and turned the volume up slightly as Fleetwood Mac came on.

"Yep," I agreed. "Soo... who was your first love?"

"When I was about fourteen, fifteen, I went out with a girl called Felicity," he said. "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."

I nodded silently, and then he continued.

"You know I've been linked to a few others too."

"A few?" I teased, sideglancing him, and he smiled.

"OK, a lot," he said. "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," I admitted.

"I'm not proud of it," he sighed. "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."

"We all make mistakes," I murmured, remembering kissing Gary at the Big Weekend to show Harry I had moved on.

"Her husband blamed me entirely," he said, looking out of the window. "I felt guilty about that for a long time."

"Well, it takes two," I pointed out. "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," he said quietly.

"Like I said, we all make mistakes," I said. "Nobody's perfect."

"You always stick up for me," he said softly, turning his head to look at me.

"Maybe I think you're worth sticking up for," I told him.

"You have no idea how much that means to me," he whispered, squeezing my hand gently. "You've been loyal to me since the day we met."

"I love you," I said, squeezing his hand in return. "And I do know how much it means to you. You happen to mean the world to me, too."

We were silent for a few moments, and the music changed to slow piano chords, before I heard Harry's deep, soulful voice seeping through the speakers.

If I could fly, I'd be coming right back home to you...

"Oh my God," I said, using the volume button on the steering column to turn up the sound.

"Nooo, we're not listening to this!" he yelped, reaching forward quickly towards the dashboard.

I blocked his hand with my arm as the next line played.

I think I might give up everything just ask me to...

"Jess," he pleaded. "Please switch it off."

"Why?" I asked, trying to listen to the lyrics.

Pay attention, I hope that you listen, 'cause I let my guard down...

"You're... this... it's our new stuff from the album," he whined, and as I looked at him I could just make out a pink tinge to his cheeks.

"So?!" I demanded. "I'm not going to leak it!"

"No, I know," he said helplessly. "It's not that..."

Right now I'm completely defenceless...

"It's fuckıng beautiful, Harry," I breathed. "What's the problem?"

"I wrote it - " he muttered.

"All the more reason to let me hear it!" I argued.

" - about you," he finished, staring down at his lap.

"What?!" I yelped, turning to stare at him.

For your eyes only I show you my heart...

"Jess!" he yelled, gripping the dashboard and I looked back at the road to see I was drifting into the middle lane of the motorway.

I quickly swerved back to the inside lane; there were no other cars around anyway.

For when you're lonely and forget who you are...

"It's fine, chill," I told him. "What do you mean, you wrote it about me?"

He gave me a despairing look. "What do you think I mean?"

I'm missing half of me when we're apart...

"Did you write it with anyone else?" I asked, faintly, trying to listen to the words but somehow unable to process them.

"With a couple of other songwriters in LA, but not with anyone else from the band," he muttered quietly.

Now you know me, for your eyes only...

"Please let me listen to it," I begged. "I can't believe you haven't told me about it."

"OK," he relented, and he fell silent as the second verse began.

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...

I felt a wave of emotion, and I fought the tears already forming in my eyes as the verse and chorus played again.

"When did you write this?" I whispered.

"The idea started in April in LA after you'd gone back home," he said quietly. "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...

The tears started to fall at this point, and I caught sight of a sign for Sandbach services up ahead. I began to indicate, and slowed down as I approached the sliproad.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

For your eyes only I show you my heart... For when you're lonely and forget who you are...

My vision was blurring now as I drove into the car park, the melancholy words filling the otherwise silent car. I saw Harry glance at me and then look straight ahead again and I pulled into an empty space, the furthest away from the entrance to the service station, to listen to the last few lines of the song. I tried keep the sobs inside, but only succeeded in making my whole body shake as I gripped the steering wheel with both hands, tears running rivers down my cheeks.

He had written this beautiful, soulful, heartbreaking song about me. ABOUT ME. I couldn't even think straight.

Soft piano notes led the song to its close, and Harry's voice rounded it off with, For your eyes only.

I unclipped my seatbelt, launched myself almost onto his lap and flung my arms around his neck, burying my head in his shoulder and not bothering to disguise my emotion. "I love you so much," I cried.

His left arm held me tightly and his right hand stroked the back of my hair delicately. "I love you too," he whispered in my ear. "I can't even begin to explain how much."

"You just did," I whispered back.

"Why are you crying?" he asked, planting a gentle kiss on my neck before burying his face in my hair.

"I don't know," I half-laughed in a small voice, and he squeezed me tighter. "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," I corrected myself, remembering Perfect.

"Three," he whispered, so quietly I wasn't sure I'd actually heard it.

I pulled back and stared at his face in shock.

"And a half," he added, his face breaking into a beautiful, shy smile.

---***---

Over 400 votes on the last chapter!! That is just incredible, thank you all so much. It really does mean the world to me. You are the best readers ever xx