January 2016

More pictures surfaced the following day of Harry and Kendall messing around on the boat (albeit nowhere near as incriminating as the previous ones), and this time I looked at them with their friendship in the forefront of my mind, and they looked very different. While the rest of the world went crazy over the idea that the two of them were in a relationship, I smiled to myself, happy in the knowledge that I was the one in a relationship with Harry Styles, and revelled in the idea of outsmarting the media for the majority of the last ten months.

Things for Kendall, however, were not going so well. Since the "kissing" pictures there had been an almighty row between her and her boyfriend Jordan, and according to Harry she was on the verge of leaving the yacht early to sort things out with him. I felt sorry for her, as I believed she hadn't deliberately caused trouble between me and Harry, and I certainly didn't wish her any ill feeling. Therefore it came as no surprise when I spoke to Harry on Saturday that she had packed up her things and was on her way back to LA.

"I can't help feeling that this whole week has been overshadowed by the shit storm surrounding me and Kendall," he confessed to me on the phone, as I sat in the airport with my friends waiting for our flight back to Heathrow. "I'm so happy about my new management, and what it means for the future, but the excitement has been dulled by all of this hysteria."

Harry had decided that once he was out of contract with Modest he would be signing with Jeff's new company Full Stop Management, and for the best part of his first year he would be Jeff's only client with Irving as a silent adviser if needed. Jeff was supportive of Harry's desire to remain close to London, and the two of them (and Irving) had already discussed film roles coming up in the next few months.

"I know," I sighed. "The world is going to be watching the pair of you for quite a while yet."

"Yup," he said, bitterly. "Well the world will be disappointed."

~~~~

I spent Sunday doing my washing and ironing and getting ready to go back to work the following day. Harry texted me once he had boarded his plane to Manchester, but even if he hadn't have told me I would have known anyway, thanks to more pictures and videos of him all over social media, sitting in first class and pulling a pillow across his face to hide from the fan taking the photo. Twitter was in uproar, defending Harry's privacy and demanding the culprit delete the tweets (even though the pictures had been saved and regurgitated by the majority of the update accounts. I still didn't follow any of them but I was checking them regularly now that Harry and I were back together and serious).

I got a text from him mid morning on Monday to say that he had landed so I rang him on my lunch break, by which time he had arrived back at his mum's and was looking forward to a couple of quiet days before returning to London on Wednesday. I went straight to Harry's after work on Wednesday, feeling strangely aware that this would soon be my new commute. The tube links were not as convenient from my office to Hampstead, and Harry's house was at least a twenty minute walk from both Golders Green and Hampstead tube station, meaning it would make more sense for me to drive to work and use the office car park.

I used the remote to open the gates to Harry's house as I approached, feeling very self conscious, and drove straight onto the parking deck before blipping the remote to close the gates behind me. As I got out of the car I heard the front door opening, and I turned to see Harry illuminated in the doorway against the black of the evening, wearing a navy and white striped apron, holding a wooden spoon in his hand.

"Kinky," I teased, locking my car and hurrying up to the front door and into the house out of the cold. "Are you going to spank me?"

He raised one eyebrow and smirked. "Would you like me to?"

He closed the front door behind me and immediately I was hit with a delicious aroma of lamb, garlic and coriander.

"What's for dinner?" I asked curiously, my mouth beginning to water as I slipped my coat off my shoulders.

He cleared his throat. "Carrot and coriander soup to start, and then lamb shank with roasted new potatoes, shallots, red cabbage and baby sweetcorn."

"Wow," I said softly. "What's all this in aid of?"

He wrapped his arms around my waist and bent his head to kiss me gently on the lips. "I've missed you like mad, put you through hell again, and I'm trying to remind you why you fell for me in the first place."

"As if I could forget," I whispered.

"Yeah, well, it doesn't do any harm to show you how much I appreciate you," he said, once he had released me from his arms, and led me through to the kitchen where I perched on a bar stool and set my bag down on the worktop while he poured me a glass of wine. A long white candle was sticking out of a wine bottle next to us, the wax dripping down the curve of the glass to create a romantic table ornament.

"How long did it take you to make that?" I teased, and he gave me a pained look.

"Hours. Do you know how hard it is to make it look like it happened naturally?"

I chuckled, took a sip of wine and smiled at him, and he leaned forward onto the worktop, his elbows and forearms flat against the marble and his bum sticking out.

"See, this is what you could come home to every night, if you moved in."

"I already said yes," I reminded him, grinning.

"Oh yeah," he muttered, frowning as though he had forgotten this, and then walked around the edge of the breakfast bar, took my glass of wine off me and blew out the candle that was burning between us.

"Hey!" I protested, and he grinned cheekily at me, kissed me again and handed me back my wine glass.

His expression changed again to become more serious, and he looked at me thoughtfully. "I really am sorry, for the whole Kendall fiasco."

"I know," I said, adopting his tone and setting my glass down. "I'm sorry I doubted you. For what it's worth, I didn't really believe it. I knew something wasn't right. It was just hard to have faith when those pictures were so..." I trailed off.

"I know," he said, fervently. "I don't blame you for thinking the way you did. I should never have let myself get photographed like that. I spoke to Kendall about it, and said we'd crossed a line, and she agreed. I don't know if she's managed to sort things out with Jordan yet. He was so pissed off about it. They've only been together a short time."

"Do you understand why I was upset that you're so... familiar with her?" I asked tentatively.

"Yeah, I do," he said, looking into my eyes. "If it were the other way round, I would hate it. I should have considered that sooner. Kendall and I have always been close, on and off, but that was before I had a serious girlfriend. It never really occurred to me that those boundaries should change, but I realise now that they must."

"I don't want to ruin your friendship with her," I explained. "I hope you believe that. I've never been the type of girl who won't allow her boyfriend to have female friends. I'm not clingy or controlling. But I think there needs to be a line."

"There does," he agreed, nodding. He reached across the breakfast bar and took both my hands in his. "In the past, I wouldn't have thought twice about having a girl sit on my knee, cuddle me, lie on me. I think you need to see the pictures my mum took while we were away, because I was very tactile with Kendall up until the point those pictures broke. I don't want you thinking that I was only like that with her when we were in private; I wasn't. I cuddled her in front of my mum, because I had nothing to hide. The relationship is platonic, and that's how we've always been."

"I don't need to see them," I told him. "I believe you."

"I half expected you to ring my mum and ask her if there was anything going on between me and Kendall," he confessed.

"But that would imply that I didn't trust your word," I explained. "And I do. I don't need your mum to confirm what I already know. I know you love me. The last ten months have proved that. I may have had my doubts for a short while when I saw those pictures, but I also knew deep down there had to be an explanation for them. You'd given me keys to your house, asked me to move in with you and bought me a car. It wouldn't have made sense for you to be having an affair with one of your best friends, who has a famous boyfriend, right in front of the world. I know you better than that."

He pressed his lips together into a soft smile. "We've come a very long way since that night we first met. Both as a couple, and individually."

"I'd like to think so," I smiled back. "It took me a while to trust you, but once I did, and you had truly earnt it, I don't think rumours alone could shake it."

"And I will never be the one to break it," he promised. "This whole serious-relationship thing... you're right, it is new to me. I'm not using that as an excuse, but I want you to know I don't take us lightly."

"I don't think that," I said.

"Good," he beamed. "Because there will always be rumours and stories about me, until we're publicly an item. And even afterwards, I'm sure there will be gossip, and lies, spread by people with small minds and cruel intentions."

"Sometimes I wish we could just start all over again, knowing what we know now, and take things right back to the beginning," I sighed, staring out of the window.

He was silent for a moment, and as I turned to look at him I caught sight of a brief smirk on his lips before he looked up at me with a straight face. "Back to the start? Is that really what you want?"

I surveyed him for a moment. "I don't know. Sometimes I think it would be good to start all over again, without all the shit we've dealt with. Just wipe the slate clean, so to speak."

He nodded. "Understood."

I cocked my head and looked at him, a half-smile forming in confusion. "Understood? What do you mean?"

"I mean, I hear you. I will make this right, I promise you."

"Harry -"

"Don't ask questions," he interrupted. "Just have faith that I will give you what you want. Always."

"OK," I said uncertainly, and he flashed his eyebrows at me before pushing off from the worktop and turning back to the cooker.

"Are you staying over tonight?" he asked, as he spooned the soup into two bowls and gestured for me to take a seat at the table in the dining room. I walked through the archway and and took the seat nearest the door. The table was beautifully laid with a starched white tablecloth, gleaming cutlery and another candle. I was rather impressed.

"Well, I brought my stuff this time, in case you offered," I replied.

"Wow," he said, under his breath but deliberately loud enough for me to hear him. "Presumptuous."

"Don't piss me off, Harry," I warned as I sat down, and he laughed his high-pitched, squeaky laugh, that he reserved for the occasions when he knew he had got away with being exceptionally cheeky.

He poured himself a glass of wine too, and we began to eat the soup. It was smooth; blended to perfection, with a swirl of cream in the middle and a sprinkling of chopped coriander on the top.

"Did you really make this?" I asked in disbelief. "It's absolutely delicious."

"I did," he confirmed. "Well - it's a Jamie Oliver recipe, but I followed it to the letter."

"You can definitely make this again," I said enthusiastically, and he beamed over the top of his wine glass at me, and nudged his foot against mine under the table.

"So," he began, after we had finished the first course, "I was wondering if maybe you wanted to talk logistics, about you moving in and then maybe us going public...?"

"OK," I said nervously.

"Do you have any concerns?"

"Well, yes, of course," I said, truthfully. "But I also have some conditions."

"I thought you would," he grinned. "Should I serve the main course while you organise your notes? I don't want it to burn."

"If you're not taking this seriously, Styles," I began, furiously, and he let out another raucous laugh at my expense.

"Of course I am, you beautiful, intelligent, fiery girl. I just love winding you up."

He stood up and smirked at me, picking up our soup bowls and dirty cutlery and carrying them through to the kitchen, throwing a delighted grin over his shoulder as he went. He was gone a couple of minutes, and eventually returned with two large plates displaying a lamb shank on each and an array of vegetables.

"This looks absolutely amazing," I breathed as he set mine down in front of me.

He sat back down in his own place and gave me a deliberately cheesy grin showing all his teeth, before he gestured to my plate. "Well, come on. Tuck in. You can reel off your terms in between bites."

I ignored his flippancy and took a bite of the lamb. It was so tender it practically fell off the bone, and the red wine gravy was heavenly. Harry watched me carefully, and grinned triumphantly when I caught his eye.

"See? You do close your eyes when something delicious is coming. You did it just then."

"Stop picking up on my quirks," I scolded him, and he grinned down at his plate as he took a bite of his own meal. "So," I began, and he smirked before hastily rearranging his face into a serious expression.

"I'm listening."

"We need to talk money," I said awkwardly. "I want to pay my way."

"I knew you'd say that," he sighed.

"Of course," I said. "I'm not sponging off you. We split everything down the middle. I mean, I don't know how that will work with your mortgage, if you even have one..."

"It's not that simple though," he said. "The bills here will be a lot higher than what you're used to, because the house is bigger than your flat. Even halved, they'll be several times higher."

"Well, I was thinking of renting my flat out, to generate extra income," I replied.

"Even so, you need to cover your own mortgage payments on your flat," he reminded me. "Jess, I asked you to move in because I want you here with me all the time. Not because I want a flatmate to share the bills. I know you want to pay your way," he continued, when I opened my mouth to protest, "and if it's possible, I love you even more for offering. But I don't need help towards the living costs of this place. I'd rather you save your money, and put it aside for when you want to start up your own business. You told me once that that's what you wanted to do. This is your chance to think about making that happen."

"But this isn't fair," I argued. "I'm not moving in here with you and being your kept woman. That goes against all my morals."

"OK," he nodded. "Then I have another suggestion. I pay off the remainder of the mortgage on this place before you move in."

"Can you do that?" I asked, incredulously.

He shrugged. "I can move some investments around. I'm also looking at buying a new house in LA, so I can use the sale of my current LA house to pay this one off outright. It's swings and roundabouts, really."

I tried not to gape at him, at his nonchalance about these incredible sums of money that he seemed to be able to get his hands on in the blink of an eye. I couldn't begin to fathom the extent of his wealth. Yet he still maintained a considerable amount of normality, and never made me feel inferior to him.

"The only downside to that," he continued, "is that you would have to wait a few months for it all to be finalised. And I really really want you to move in sooner."

"How soon?" I asked.

"Like, today?" he suggested, wrinkling his nose shyly. "If you would take my word that I would pay off the house, and I agree to split most of the bills in half with you, then I don't see why we can't get the ball rolling as soon as possible."

"Most of the bills?" I challenged.

"Jess, the insurance on this place is astronomical," he explained patiently. "My recording equipment in the studio alone is worth tens of thousands. You're not contributing half towards that. I'll agree to utilities, such as gas, electricity, water and food. But that's it. I don't want anything else. And I'm not budging on this one."

I sighed and gave him a look of frustration, but he just smiled sweetly and took another bite of his lamb. I knew he wouldn't agree to anything more, and I was actually surprised that he had consented to let me contribute as much as this.

"Fine," I nodded, extending my hand towards his.

"Are you making me shake on it?" he grinned, meeting my hand with his.

"Yes," I said firmly, and we shook hands to seal the deal.

"So, does this mean you'll move in today?" he asked, still grinning.

"Aren't you going back to LA at the end of the month for Jeff's birthday?" I reminded him, remembering him mentioning it briefly during one of our phonecalls over New Year. I didn't really want to stay alone in his house so soon after potentially moving in.

"Come with me?" he asked.

"I'm not sure I'll be able to get the time off work," I sighed, and he pulled a face.

"Well, why don't you start moving your stuff gradually?" he suggested. "You can move in officially when I'm back."

"When are you back?" I asked.

"Just after my birthday," he said awkwardly.

"Oh you're spending your birthday in LA?" I tried not to let my disappointment show in my voice.

"Yeah," he sighed. "Mum and Robin have already arranged to come with me. I just assumed you would be able to come too. Sorry."

"I'll put a request in for the holiday," I nodded.

"So... what about your birthday?" he asked. "Yours is before mine."

"Will you be here, or in LA?"

"Here," he smiled. "I don't fly out until the twentieth. I was thinking I could take you out for dinner? Maybe we could invite your parents and my parents... isn't it about time they met?"

"I suppose it is," I smiled.

"Well Mum and Robin are coming down to London the day before we fly to LA," he mused. "Why don't we all go out for dinner? Ask a couple of your friends, I'll see if Grimmy and James are free too, and we'll make an evening of it."

"That sounds perfect," I beamed, inwardly fangirling at the idea of James Corden coming with us. "It's a date."

He picked up his wine glass and clinked it against mine, and then smiled knowingly at me over the top of it.

"It certainly is."

---***---

544 votes on the last chapter!! Squeeee!! Thank you so much for all the love you have shown this story. I can't explain how excited I get when I see the reads increasing, and when I read all your lovely comments! I'm so behind on replying to the ones on the last few chapters, purely because I have devoted the majority of my wattpad-time to writing, so I'm sorry for that, but I will respond tonight! I read every single one, and I love seeing your reactions to how the book is progressing. So once again, I ask you to vote, vote, vote, and push it further up the fanfiction hot list! 🔥❤

Oh, and happy Halloween!! xx