87 - Running Over Thoughts That Make My Feet Hurt
We landed at Heathrow on Sunday afternoon, and Harry had arranged for a driver to collect me from the airport as Louis was heading to his house in Barnet which was further out of London, and around a twenty minute drive away from Hampstead Heath.
As we slipped into separate cars just outside the entrance I heard the familiar clicking of a camera, and kept my head down as I shut the door behind me, only risking a glance out of the back window once my car was well on its way.
My phone beeped with a text from Louis a few seconds later.
From: Louis Tomlinson: We just got papped.
To: Louis Tomlinson: I guessed as much. Let's hope no one realises who I am, or it'll be a pain in the arse for both of us.
But of course, this was the One Direction fandom, and to hope for anonymity was ridiculous to the point of insanity. I texted Harry immediately after Louis' message to warn him about the photographer, and less than an hour later the internet went into meltdown over the pictures of me and Louis at Heathrow, prompting rumours of a romance between us, a suggestion that I had been to LA to meet Freddie, and a few random claims that I was one of Louis' staff and this was the reason I was accompanying him. And thanks to the nature of the fandom, no one was left in any doubt that I was the same girl who had supposedly been kissing Louis outside Libertine last June, with 'on-off boyfriend Harry only feet away inside the club.'
I tried to resist the temptation to read my Twitter mentions, but part of me wanted to be forewarned and forearmed, so by the time I arrived back in Hampstead I was barely holding back angry tears at being called a 'slag,' a 'slut,' a 'snake,' and a 'home-wrecking whore' (apparently I was causing trouble for Louis and Danielle, and Louis and Harry, although how anyone unrelated to us knew this remained unclear.) I looked over my shoulder as the car pulled into our driveway and the gates closed behind us, checking I hadn't been spotted arriving here, as that would only have made things ten times worse considering we hadn't publicly confirmed that I was in a relationship with Harry, much less moved in. The driver helped me inside with my case and I made sure the gates were securely locked after he left, before stomping into the kitchen to make myself a drink. I sat at the breakfast bar, seething, reading every negative tweet (both about me and to me), struggling to maintain my composure and biting my tongue to avoid sending blunt replies to each and every one, which would only result in blowing our cover and exposing us to the world.
It seemed as though every move I made was mentally noted by certain members of the fandom, and regurgitated, analysed and judged at every opportunity. I felt a stab of nerves at the idea of always being labelled the girl who had 'cheated on Harry with Louis,' and the girl who 'tolerated Harry's many other women,' and now apparently the girl who was 'sneaking around with Louis behind Danielle's back.' Part of me wanted to compose a lengthy essay, detailing every part of my relationship with Harry from start to finish, explaining every moment of madness, every misunderstanding, every false claim about us and the heartbreak involved for both of us that had led us to the point we were at now: finally over all the trouble in our past, and happy and excited for the future together, and release it as an official statement to shut everyone up. But even as these thoughts whirled in my mind I knew they were fruitless. I would never really want to discuss the most private details of our relationship with anyone other than Harry, and even if I did, people would still find reasons to disagree with me, find fault with me and judge me. It was part and parcel of being in a high-profile relationship, and I knew by now that I would just have to hold my head high and ignore the shit being written about me, and accept that the speculation surrounding our private lives would always be tabloid fodder. It didn't stop me secretly wishing there was a way to turn back the clock and erase some of the mistakes I had made (namely kissing Louis), or a way to wipe the slate clean.
I wasn't in the mood to spend the evening on my own dwelling on all this, so I sent a quick text to Callie asking if she wanted to come round for a catch up, and received a message back almost immediately.
From: Callie: YES. I've missed you! I'll be round after dinner with a bottle of wine xx
I had just drained the last of my cup of tea when my phone lit up with a phonecall from Sarah. I couldn't help smiling as I answered it with a loud, "Leerrooyy, hhmmmm?!" which was met on the other end of the line with hysterical laughter.
"You're home then?" she said, and I could hear the grin still in her voice. "How was your flight with Louis? To say I'm disgustingly jealous is an understatement."
I cringed at the memory of the dirty dream. "Fine thanks," I replied, as calmly as I could. "I met Freddie while I was over there. He's gorgeous."
This was met by a scream of either anguish or excitement, I couldn't really tell, and then, "Oh my God I want to cry! Did you hold him? Does he look like Louis? What's Louis like with him?"
"Yes, yes, and amazing," I laughed. "I got some cute pictures of him, I'll show you at work tomorrow."
"How's Harry?"
"Great," I beamed. "Things are awesome."
"Except when you're being accused of sleeping with Louis behind Danielle's back."
"You've been on Twitter then?" I sighed.
"I rely on Twitter for your whereabouts these days," she joked. "If Harry's pictured out to dinner in West Hollywood, I know that's where you'll be, too. It feels like you're almost a celebrity in your own right."
We giggled at this.
"Anyway, I know you've only just got back, but I was wondering if you fancied coming round to mine for a brew?" she asked. "I wanted to talk to you about something."
"Um, I was kind of wanting to have a bath and put on my pyjamas," I said. "And Callie's coming over for a girlie night. But you're more than welcome to come over here and join us, as long as you bring some wine. I've eaten like a pig this last week. Diet starts tomorrow, which leaves plenty of room for a glass or three of wine tonight."
"Oh my God, hanging out at Harry Styles' house," she moaned wistfully. "Count me in. Are you sure you don't mind?"
I insisted I didn't, and said I would see her in an hour. I threw my holiday clothes into the washing machine and went upstairs for a bath, climbing out only five minutes before they were both due to arrive and pulling on pyjamas and a dressing gown, and waiting for them to text me when they were nearly here so I could open the gates. It was times like these I missed my favourite One Direction tshirts and mug - they had been my ultimate comfort when I needed to relax.
Sarah arrived on time, and took her coat off in the hall to reveal her own 1D tshirt and pink unicorn pyjama bottoms. "When in Rome..," she teased, handing me a bottle of Pinot Grigio as I led her through to the lounge. I gave her a glass, and she flopped down on the sofa next to me. "I still can't believe we're in Harry Styles' house," she sighed. "Do you ever get star-struck by it all? Like, do you ever look at him and go, oh my God, you're Harry Styles?"
"I used to," I admitted. "Not anymore, though. I haven't had a Harry Styles moment in ages. Although I do still get a bit giddy around Louis. I just have to rein it in when Harry's looking."
"I don't think I'd ever get used to it," she declared. "I think I'd wake up beside him every morning and fangirl to his face."
We laughed at this, and spent ten minutes thinking up ludicrous scenarios where excessive fangirling would be the most inappropriate, becoming more and more hysterical with every new example we invented until we were crying with laughter.
"Anyway, I was wondering if you'd found anyone to rent your flat yet?" she asked, once we had calmed down, discussed my week in LA, and had covered the important topics of Louis, Freddie and Harry.
"I haven't even advertised it," I admitted. "It's on my list of things to do these next two weeks, to keep me occupied while Harry's away. Why, do you know someone who might be interested?"
"Yep," she said excitedly. "Me."
"Really?!" I gasped. "That would be amazing! I would much rather let it out to a friend rather than a stranger!"
"I thought you would," she said happily. "Fantastic! It's about time I moved out of home. I've been thinking about it for ages. Obviously I'll pay the going rate, and I'll sign whatever contracts you want me to sign, so it's all above board."
"We can talk about the formalities at a later date," I said dismissively. "But I guess this means I need to move the last of my stuff out of there."
"I can help you, if you want," she offered. "I can ask Gary, too. I'm sure he won't mind."
Something in her tone made me look up, and I caught the faintest tinge of blush on her cheeks.
"Why does the idea of Gary helping me move boxes make you flustered?" I asked suspiciously. "Oh my God is something going on between you two?!"
"Not yet," she said coyly, and I squealed in excitement and stamped my feet on the floor.
"OK, spill!" I demanded.
"There's nothing to tell," she said. "We've just been getting on really well lately, and we went for a drink after work last week. He was being really flirty, and I was flirting back, and he then asked me out to dinner on Wednesday."
"Like on a date?!" I squeaked, barely able to contain my excitement.
"Yeah," she admitted, her face now bright red and an air of giddiness about her.
"That's amazing!" I beamed. "Didn't I say you two would be perfect for each other?!"
"Yeah yeah, you might have mentioned it," she admitted, looking down at her glass. "It's only dinner, though. I haven't even kissed him yet."
"But you want to?" I probed, and squealed again when she blushed harder and shrugged. "This is the best news ever!" I announced, filling up our glasses again and clinking mine against hers.
"I just want to take things slowly," she said, once our exuberance had passed. "If it all goes wrong it would be so awkward, as we work together. So I'm keen to keep it low key for now."
"I completely understand," I nodded. "I am the soul of discretion."
My phone pinged with a text from Callie saying she was in a taxi on East Heath Road and would be arriving any second. I jumped up to let her in, and handed her a glass of wine once she was snuggled under the blanket between me and Sarah.
"So... I sort of need to ask your advice on something," I muttered to them both, once we'd all said our hellos.
"Uh oh," Sarah said, tucking her feet under her bottom and pulling the throw over her legs. "This sounds ominous. What is it?"
"Have you ever... do you ever have x-rated dreams -"
"All the time," Callie interrupted, and I laughed.
"But do you have them about someone you shouldn't -"
"All the time," Sarah interrupted this time, nodding seriously, and I threw a cushion at her.
"Shut up and let me speak!" I scolded, and they grinned wickedly and exchanged knowing looks.
"I sort of had a dream about someone... someone who wasn't Harry..," I began, and their grins widened. "It was Louis," I admitted. "And it happened while I was sleeping next to him on the plane on the way home."
Sarah cackled at this and waved her arm in the air in a silent salute for a moment before looking hard at me. "Wait - you slept next to him?" Her jaw dropped.
"Well, in the seat next to his on the private jet," I explained, and Sarah made some inhuman exclamation of longing. "The seats recline all the way and we were side by side. We each had our own blanket though, and we were fully clothed. But - and I know this is going to sound stupid - I feel like I've cheated on Harry." (I mumbled this last part.)
"Jess," Callie sighed patiently. "You were asleep. You can't be held responsible for what happens in your subconscious."
"I know," I muttered. "But I still feel guilty. I really enjoyed it."
Sarah leaned back and screamed with laughter. "Oh Jess," she said, eventually. "You are far too good for this world. Only you would have a conscience about a sexy dream."
"Exactly," Callie agreed. "And are you honestly telling us you've never had a dream like that about someone you shouldn't? Good or bad? Because I have."
"Well yeah, of course," I admitted. "I even had one about our old English teacher a couple of years ago. It was really weird."
"See? There you go," Callie said, gesturing with her hand in finality. "I had one about Calvin once. It doesn't mean anything."
"Callie!" I protested. "That's disgusting."
"It was pretty hot, actually," she grinned. "But my point is, your subconscious comes up with all kinds of weird stuff. When you're at school and you dream you're naked in front of the whole assembly does that mean you secretly want it to happen? Of course it doesn't."
"Louis made a comment, when he woke up..," I began in a whisper, and Sarah narrowed her eyes. "I think... I think he might have been dreaming about me too."
"No fucking way," Sarah breathed.
"He said a couple of things that he'd already said in my dream," I explained. "But he couldn't have heard me, because he was fast asleep. Can you meet in your subconscious..?"
"You're reading far too much into this," Callie said, bluntly, cutting me off. "Do you want to have sex with Louis?"
"No," I said truthfully. "I love Harry."
"So why are you stressing?"
"Because Louis was flirting with me and I was flirting back, and I shouldn't have. It was disrespectful to my relationship with Harry," I sighed.
"Jess, that's just the type of banter you have with Louis," Sarah reasoned. "You've always been like that with each other, and Harry knows that."
"Yeah, and after Yachtgate we had a discussion about relationship boundaries," I moaned. "I've crossed a line by flirting and I think it prompted the dream, and now I feel so fucking guilty."
"Jess!" Callie said, impatiently now. "Your dreams are created by your subconscious while you are asleep! You haven't cheated!"
I sighed and looked down at my wine glass.
"So I shouldn't tell Harry about it?" I asked, already knowing the answer.
"No you fucking shouldn't!" Sarah exclaimed. "Do you want to crush the poor boy's ego? Does he tell you about every dream he has that doesn't involve you? Don't be a prat. Some things are better left unsaid. You're too honest for your own good."
Callie nodded fervently. "She's right, Jess. Don't make unnecessary trouble for yourself. If you wouldn't want to hear it from Harry, don't make him hear it from you."
This was true. I certainly wouldn't want to know if Harry had ever dreamt about other women, but even if he had, I wouldn't be angry with him over it. I would just prefer not to know.
"You're right," I nodded, taking a sip of wine just as my phone lit up with a call from Harry. "I knew you were the right people to ask."
I swiped the screen.
"Hi Squidge."
"Hi baby. I just woke up and saw your texts about the paps at Heathrow. Are you OK?"
He sounded half asleep, and adorable. My heart missed a couple of beats at the idea of him lying in bed, all cuddly and sleepy.
"Yeah, I'm fine," I replied. "Pissed off, annoyed, and wishing we could go back to the start and rewrite history, but apart from that I'm OK. I made the mistake of reading my Twitter mentions after Louis and I were spotted. I won't be doing that again in a hurry."
"I just had a quick look myself," he admitted.
"Did you see the one remarking that I was happy to spread my legs in any direction?" I asked, bitterly. "That has to be a personal favourite."
"Just ignore it all," he said softly and I heard the rustle of the covers as he rolled over in bed. "Everyone will always have an opinion, and a clever comment to make, but they only matter if you let them affect you."
"Wise words," I smiled.
"I'm a wise kind of guy," he said huskily, and I could hear the smile in his voice too. "I miss you."
"I miss you, too," I sighed. "I'm literally counting the days until you're home again."
"Same," he murmured. "Fourteen to go."
"Stop being soppy," Callie called.
"Who's that?" Harry asked.
"Callie and Sarah are here," I replied. "We're catching up over a couple of bottles of wine."
He chuckled softly. "Sounds like fun."
"Sarah wants to rent my flat," I told him, and he gave a soft exclamation.
"Oh! That's great news!"
"Yeah," I said enthusiastically. "So I'm going to have to get myself in gear to sort it out. I'll have plenty of time while you're away. It'll keep me busy."
"Excellent," he said. "If you want a solicitor to draw up a contract I can organise it for you, or at least arrange a meeting to discuss it."
"Thanks," I said. "That would be helpful. But there's no rush."
We chatted for a few minutes before promising to ring each other the next day, and I ended the call feeling slightly less inner turmoil over the Louis dream. As much as there may have been undeniable chemistry between myself and Louis, no one could make my heart flutter the way Harry could.
I looked up to see Callie and Sarah engrossed in their phones, presumably scrolling through social media. I topped up their glasses again, and Callie smiled at me.
"Thanks," she said. "Do you have wifi here? The 4G is shit. I tried to get on the pub's connection next door, but it's password protected."
"Yeah, ours is the Sky network," I told her. "The password is some random combination of letters and numbers, hang on."
I retrieved the password from my notes on my phone, and Callie frowned at me as she logged on. "You shouldn't keep passwords and stuff like that written down. What if someone gets hold of your phone?"
"I have fingerprint ID, and a PIN," I replied.
She rolled her eyes. "What's the bet your PIN is your birthday?"
I blushed. She was right. "Alright smart arse. But I have another different password on the document containing all my written-down passwords."
"Cookie twenty seven," she said immediately without looking up.
"Callie!" I protested.
"Jess, you're so predictable," she grinned. "You've had that password for absolutely everything since you were about ten years old."
"Actually, it isn't that," I huffed. "I changed it after I started seeing Harry, to be on the safe side."
"To what - cookie twenty eight?" she joked, and then snorted as I blushed harder. "Oh my God, is it really? For everything - emails, icloud, bank, the lot?" she screeched. "Jess, come on! You're going to be a prime target now you're Harry's girlfriend. You need to change it to something harder to crack! And don't tell anyone what it is!"
"Meh," I said waving my hand impatiently. "Only you would know it anyway. And Sarah too, now."
"And probably half our year from high school," Callie said seriously, as her fingers tapped rapidly on her phone screen. "I can't believe you're taking this so lightly. People remember stuff like this, and once you're public property you're going to need to be so vigilant."
"You're right," I sighed. "I will change them. Just not right this second."
"Well promise me you'll do it soon," she said, looking up and meeting my gaze with a hard stare. "Change everything, and don't tell a soul. It's not worth the risk."
"Yes boss," I saluted. "Message received and understood."
"Good," she declared, with a smile. "Anyway, how's Harry? How are you going to cope without him for the next two weeks?"
"He's fine," I said wistfully. "I've got plenty to do to keep me busy, but I know I'll still miss him like mad."
"You've been together nearly a year, haven't you?" she asked.
I shrugged. "It's sort of hard to pinpoint. We weren't official until April, but that lasted all of about twelve hours because we argued in the airport over Taylor Swift and I dumped him and flew home. We sorted things out around the May bank holiday, but that only lasted two weeks because then New York happened, so we've only properly been together since the thirty first of October, really."
Callie snorted. "That's bollocks. You were madly in love with him from the word go, and from what I know, he was exactly the same."
"What do you know?" I asked curiously.
She rolled her eyes. "I told you already, ages ago. When he was pleading with me at the Big Weekend, and I realised he was in love with you."
"Oh," I said.
"I agree," Sarah chimed in. "Look at all the stuff he's done for you. He publicly denied those rumours about that girl in LA last summer - or at least, Simon Jones did on his behalf. Then he flew home early to win you back. He realised your dream about him singing to you, at the Cardiff show. He's wanted you at his side at every important event in his life. He spent thousands of pounds on a car for you for Christmas, and asked you to move in with him... The guy is head over heels, Jess, and if it wasn't love at first sight, it was pretty damn quick."
"Yeah," I conceded. "When you put it like that, I suppose you're right."
"Are you doing anything for your anniversary?" Sarah asked.
"To mark the day we met, you mean? We haven't made any plans."
"You should cook him a nice, romantic dinner or something," she suggested. "New lingerie, the whole hog."
"That's not a bad idea," I mused. "He's always the one making grand gestures for me. It would be nice to do something amazing for him, for a change."
My mind kept wandering back to this idea throughout the evening as we gossiped and giggled, and the more I thought about it, the more inwardly excited I became about marking the anniversary of our first encounter by doing something special, to show Harry just how much the last year had meant to me, and just how much I really did love him.
---***---
Thanks for all the votes and comments on the last chapter!! It ranked #6 in Fanfiction after the update but I still wanted to get this chapter out to you as quick as I could, as a thank you to all of you for always supporting me and my books, because it really does mean the world to me! I know I've said this before very recently, but in the words of our wonderful Harry Styles....
❤❤❤
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