(No Control - 30. Nobody Compares)

I'm relieved when Jess agrees to meet me at 5 outside her office when she finishes work. I'm sure there is a Costa Coffee or Starbucks or something opposite her building. I just know I'm going to be hassled into taking security with me, and it's the last thing I want. It's been brilliant spending this time with Jess on our own so far, and actually being treated like a normal person for once. I usually only get that with my family. Even some of my old friends act differently around me sometimes.

I call Angela back (from Modest), and she picks up on the second ring. She's nothing like Karen.

"Hello honey!" she practically sings when she answers.

"How's my favourite lady?" I ask, and she giggles.

"Don't give me that, Harry, I know you say that to everyone."

"I really don't!" I protest, but I do, and she knows it.

"Yeah, yeah," she chides. "How has your week been, sweetheart?"

"Really good, thanks," I reply. "How was yours?"

"Oh, you know. Same old same old. Got the grandkids coming this weekend."

Angela is the youngest and hippest grandmother I know. Sometimes I think she's cooler than all of the band put together.

"Nice," I smile. "Bet they're looking forward to that."

"Definitely," she agrees. "I fill them full of sugar and send them back to their mum high on E numbers."

We both laugh as I imagine Angela's grandchildren bouncing off the walls holding a bag of Skittles.

"Anyway, listen my lovely, I'm just checking you know the itinerary for this evening," she continues. "Paul's coming to pick you up at your house at 6, and will take you straight to Heathrow to meet the others, OK?"

"Um, well actually I've made plans just before we get picked up," I begin. "Could I get a car to my house at 4.30, and I need it to drop me off in Harrow at 5, and collect me again at 6 please?"

There is a short pause. "Right," Angela says uncertainly. "Where are you going?"

"I'm meeting someone for coffee."

"In Harrow?" I can hear the scepticism in her voice.

"Yeah, sort of a long story," I mumble. 

"You'll need security - "

"No," I interrupt. "No security, thanks."

There is another pause. "This is the second time in two days you've said 'no security,'" she says casually, but the tone of her voice indicates this is a question.

"You've been talking to Karen," I say flatly.

"Of course, she's my boss. She's not too happy with you at the moment, cherub."

I run my hand through my hair. "I just want to be a normal guy, just for five minutes."

"She's not going to like this, Harry."

"I'm not budging," I say, politely.

"It's too public, in the middle of the afternoon. It'll be full of commuters and school kids. You'll get mobbed. It isn't safe."

I knew this would be the answer, but I refuse to have bodyguards playing third wheel on this date. It isn't happening.

"Fine. They can wait outside and I'll call if I need them," I compromise.

"I'll run it past Karen," Angela sighs.

"Tell her to call me herself if she wants to argue it out, but I'm not changing my mind," I say, not in a rude way. It isn't Angela's fault.

"We've just got your safety at the top of our priorities," she says kindly.

"I know," I tell her. "Thank you."

"I'll arrange your car," she says in a resigned tone, and we say our goodbyes and ring off.

I'm relieved that Karen doesn't call to argue with me, and I spend the afternoon lolling on the sofa watching shit TV, and catching up with a couple of friends on the phone before I leave for the next leg of the tour. 

I jump in the shower at 3.30, wash my hair and dry it, but it somehow never looks as good as when Lou blow-dries it. I'm ready by 4.15, after only one outfit change, and I bring my bags into the hall and keep half an eye out the window for Paul's car.

At 4.30 on the dot the gates open and a black BMW pulls in, and I get to my feet, switch the TV off and open the front door.

"Got another date with Jess?" he greets me.

I can't help grinning. "Yeah I have."

"Good for you, H," he smiles, and we carry my stuff out to the car and load it into the boot.

I get in the back of the car, give him the postcode, and fiddle with my hair as he pulls out of my driveway in the direction of Jess's office.

"Nervous?" he teases me, catching my eye in the rearview mirror.

"A little," I admit.

"She's one of your better ones, definitely," he remarks.

"What do you mean?"

"She was very polite," he explains. "She thanked me a couple of times, and actually spoke to me. Not many of them do."

"You make it sound like there are hundreds," I grin.

"You're not exactly pure as the driven snow," he grins back. "But I was meaning more Nadine, I suppose."

My heart lurches at the sound of her name, reminding me I am still not completely over her yet. These things take time I guess. Longer when you've made a fool out of yourself.

"What about Nadine?" I want to know.

"She just never really acknowledged any of us," he explains. "Maybe she was just shy."

Nadine definitely wasn't shy. Not in the bedroom, anyway. 

I push that thought away.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to speak out of turn," Paul says, taking my silence as annoyance.

"No no, it's fine," I say. "It seems you weren't the only one who wasn't overly keen on her."

Paul doesn't respond to this, and I get the impression he thinks he may have crossed a line. 

I spend a few minutes thinking about Nadine, and aside from the initial lurch I felt when Paul said her name unexpectedly, I don't feel that intense longing I felt while we were on tour. We were only together a couple of months, but I honestly thought I was in love with her, and it was a punch in the stomach when I realised she didn't feel the same about me. 

By the time we turn onto the road I recognise from this morning, I am chewing my lip nervously at the thought of seeing Jess again. The clock on the dashboard says 4.55pm, and as the car stops at the same pedestrian lights as this morning opposite Costa Coffee I shove my sunglasses on, put my head down and jump out of the car, acknowledging Paul's instructions to call him if things get crazy.

I look up at the big office building and hover by the steps, leaning casually against the wall with my arms folded.

Wait, this looks like I'm being defensive.

I uncross my arms and shove them behind my back against the wall. 

Now I look like a poser.

I cross my arms again and look up as I hear a familiar voice behind me.

"I'm just in a hurry."

"I gathered," an unfamiliar female voice replies, and I look round to see Jess scuttling down the steps looking up the road to her right, another blond girl right behind her, grinning. Neither of them have noticed me.

Before I can say anything Jess turns the corner to her left towards me, still looking the opposite way, and bumps into me.

"S-sorry!" she stammers.

She still hasn't realised it's me.

"Good job I wasn't holding a drink," I tease, smiling.

She whips her head around and stops dead in her tracks, staring up at me with her mouth open. I snigger inwardly.

Out of the corner of my eye I see her friend also come to a halt and stare at me with the exact same expression. I would look over at her, but I can't seem to take my eyes off Jess. My breath has caught in my throat.

"Oh my Styles," says the girl behind Jess, in a tone of disbelief, and Jess closes her eyes and smiles resignedly.

I feel my mouth twitch into a smirk.

"Sarah, this is Harry. Harry, Sarah," Jess says. She looks embarrassed.

I hold my hand out to Sarah. "Hi Sarah."

"Hi," she replies, shaking my hand. Her mouth is still open. It's quite funny. "What the fuck, Jess?" she says eventually. 

I'm starting to worry that someone is going to catch on what is going on and our cover will be blown.

"Sarah, I really need you to not draw attention to us," Jess says desperately. "I promise I will explain on Monday but please, please will you keep this to yourself? Please?"

I wonder what she'll tell Sarah on Monday. She can't have told her anything so far, judging by the shock on Sarah's face. It doesn't seem like she was expecting to see me. Sarah nods, her mouth still hanging open, and Jess nods her thanks.

"Let's go," she says to me. "See you Monday, Sarah."

She takes my arm and steers me along the pavement. I follow obediently.

"I take it that's the other fan," I muse as she lets go of my arm and we walk along side by side.

"Yeah, sorry about that. She cornered me as I was leaving. I didn't tell her anything." 

"Yeah I figured that out."

"Where are we going?" she asks.

"Costa?" I point across the road.

"Isn't it a bit too public?"

She gets it. She totally gets it. 

"I'll sit in the corner and face the wall," I say. I'm used to doing this.

"Why, have you been naughty?" she says, and immediately giggles hysterically. Her laugh is infectious, and I find myself laughing at her laugh, rather than at her joke. We walk into Costa and up to the counter.

"You sit down, I'll get these," Jess says.

She's not paying for the coffees - I asked her out.

"I'm not arguing!" she says, raising her eyebrows at me in a way that tells me I never want to be on the receiving end of her wrath. I also don't want to draw attention to us by arguing over this, so I nod and quickly scoot to the back of the cafe and sit down with my back to everyone.

I'm actually chuffed she insisted on paying. Not that I wanted her to, but it sort of reaffirms my belief that she's genuine and maybe she might like me for me, and isn't interested in my fame or money. Not that I ever thought she was. She's had plenty of opportunities to tell the world, or even just a fellow fan, but she hasn't. I smile up at the wall.

I check my phone while I'm waiting for her to bring the drinks over. 

There's a text from Jess - Where are you?

Oops - I hadn't even seen it.

And one from Paul - All ok?

I text him back. Fine, stop worrying. 

I'm parked around the corner if you need anything. Make sure you're out the door at 6 sharp, comes the reply.

I put my phone back in my pocket as Jess comes over with a tray and sits down opposite me.

"So. This was a bit of a surprise," she says casually.

"Really?" I smile.

"Well... yeah, considering you're leaving in an hour to go on tour for a month," she says, a little awkwardly. "I wasn't expecting to see you again."

"You said that last time."

"It was true then as well."

Considering I've had all day to prepare what I wanted to say to her, I am suddenly lost for words. I concentrate on putting sugar in my coffee and quietly gather my thoughts. I don't want to mess this up. I need to know if she likes me; if she's interested. 

Without asking her outright, obviously.

I know I have no chill, but I'm not a complete loser.

"You're not a typical fan," I begin. I'm staring at my mug shyly.

"Ummm... ok," she replies. "I know I'm a bit older than most..."

Oh God, I'm messing up already.

"No I don't mean that," I say hastily. 

How do I explain this when I don't even understand it myself?

"You don't seem bothered by who I am," I begin again. "You haven't asked much about the band, or my famous friends, or the whole celebrity thing." I think back to her comments about being a Louis girl, yet how our conversations have only touched on my famous life when I have brought it up.

"I can't figure you out," I tell her honestly. "I know you don't do clingy, but I still don't know if you're even interested. And...and that makes me interested." 

I can picture Louis' disapproving face mouthing 'No chill.' I carry on regardless.

"You've kept me on my toes since the minute we met. No one has done that since... well, no one's ever done that."

I was going to say since Nadine, but in all honesty I wouldn't say she kept me on my toes. Not in this way, anyway.

"I guess not many women turn you down," Jess reasons. "You could have anyone you want."

So I'm told. But I'm not sure if this applies to her...? I decide to test the water.

"Could I, though?"

"Um, if you're referring to me, you already did," she says. "Five times at last count."

I laugh at her bluntness. She's so honest - I love it.

But her words remind me of the whole reason I am here right now. I do not want her thinking she was - is? - nothing more than a hook up.

"That's sort of the reason I wanted to meet up with you now," I say awkwardly.

Her eyes widen and she wrinkles her nose at me in disgust. I am momentarily silenced - what the hell did I say wrong?!

"What, here?!" she says, looking offended, and I realise what she thinks I mean.

I'm horrified. 

Does she think I'm some sleazy celebrity after a quick shag in a fucking toilet before I catch my flight? To be honest, some girls have suggested worse - it's a major turn off.

"Oh God, no!" I exclaim, holding my hands up in my defence. "I didn't mean that!"

"What did you mean then?" 

I'm relieved to see she now just looks confused, rather than repulsed. And I'm glad she wouldn't have been up for that. I knew she was classy. 

I need to explain this properly.

"I didn't want you to think that's all it was for me. I realised this morning that the only times we've been together we've ended up..."

I don't want to be crass.

"Having a great time?" Jess offers, tentatively, smiling in a very cute way that makes me want to lean across the table and press my lips against hers.

Damn, it was a great time.

"Well yeah," I smile. "But..."

How do I put this without sounding like a loser?

"Look, I don't want you to think I was just using you. I wanted to meet up again to show you that I actually like hanging out with you, and it's not just about... what we can do in the bedroom."

"Or the kitchen," she puts in, nodding, and I start to laugh. 

"See?" I say happily. "You don't go all melty and giggly, you just fire something right back at me. I really like that."

Melty? Is that even a fucking word? 

"Are you joking?" she says incredulously, and she leans forward in her seat.

Um, no. 

I'm lost now. 

"You think I don't melt inside when you look at me?" she continues in the same disbelieving tone, and I get a warm fuzzy feeling in my stomach. "I'm a mess, Harry. But not because you're Harry Styles from One Direction. Well, ok, maybe partly because of that, but mostly because of the chemistry I feel around you. You make my heart pound and my legs go to jelly. You're hot. And I definitely need that mute button," she declares, sitting back in her chair and looking away, her face bright red.

I can't stop my smile.

I make her heart pound.

I make her legs go to jelly.

I'm hot.

I'M HOT!

"I'm hot, huh?" I say out loud, and she rolls her eyes and smirks.

"Don't pretend you don't know it."

I love her attitude.

"I don't know that you think it," I flirt.

She looks at me, suddenly serious.

"Were you not listening to me just then? Because I'm not saying it again," she huffs.

She's really sexy when she's cross.

"You're really sexy when you're cross," I tell her, now that I have the upper hand again.

"Don't go saying things like that," she says self-consciously, her eyes darting over my shoulder.

"Why not? No one's listening." I look over my shoulder in the direction of her gaze, and regret it when I am instantly recognised.

Fuck.

"Oh my God, it's Harry Styles!" a young girl squeals from a couple of tables away, and I know from experience this date has just become a ticking bomb.