(No Control - 43. Taken)

I stress out the following morning while Jess is in the shower over what to wear. We are more than likely to get papped today, and there is honestly nothing worse than looking like shit when your face is plastered all over the tabloids. I also want to look like I've made an effort. Although Jess is staying in my house, when we go out it's sort of like going on a date, so I want her to think I look good.

I'm putting the breakfast plates in the dishwasher when she comes down, and she looks amazing in a tiny little pair of shorts and a sleeveless top.

"You look lovely," I tell her, and she smiles shyly at me and murmurs a "thanks."

We get in my car and as soon as we're out of the driveway, Love Me Like You Do starts playing. I get a flush of goosebumps over my arms as I think back to the house party where we met.

Should I tell her this song reminds me of her? Or is that really pathetic?

"I love this song," she says, and she sings along quietly. I watch her when she's looking away, but she catches me staring a couple of times and I grin sheepishly when I catch her eye. She starts singing louder, and cranks the volume up for the first chorus. I listen to her singing, my heart pounding.

What is it about her that has got me so hooked? I don't understand it. It's like everything she does is amazing.

The song comes to a close and she turns the volume back down.

I grab my courage with both hands.

"That song reminds me of you," I say quickly.

"What?"

I can see her out of the corner of my eye looking at me in disbelief.

"The DJ played it at that party the night I came back from tour," I blunder on.

I can't look at her. I feel like such an idiot saying all this. But I can't seem to stop now I've started.

"It was on while we were sitting on the couch talking," I continue. "It always makes me think of you whenever I hear it." I can picture Liam and Louis taking the piss out of Niall when it came on in the backstage lounge at one of the stadiums a couple of weeks ago, and I remember thinking about Jess as soon as I heard it.

She's quiet, and I risk a glance at her. She's staring at me with her mouth open. I can't help laughing at her expression.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" I grin.

She says nothing, but shakes her head and turns her face away to stare out of the window.

Shit. My heart's pounding. She looks pissed off.

"Did I say something wrong?" I ask.

"No," she squeaks, and clears her throat nervously. "It reminds me of you, too. That's all."

My heart soars at her words and I smile at her, and she smiles shyly back.

I'm looking out for a parking space and when I spot one I quickly pull into it and kill the engine. I can't see any paps, and I'm pretty sure we weren't being followed, but they have a habit of turning up uninvited at the most inconvenient moments. I need to warn her.

"We might get spotted while we're out," I begin awkwardly. One of the downsides of being me, I want to add, but don't. "People might start taking photographs and stuff."

"Yeah, I've already prepared myself," she says confidently. "I won't do anything to set rumours flying, don't worry."

I'm not worried about what she might say or do. I know how discreet she is. I'm worried for her, in case the attention scares her. Or worse, puts her off me. And I also don't want her to think I'm brushing her off when I don't act like I have been when we're in private.

I don't know how to articulate this.

"I'm not worried - at least, not in the way you mean," I try and explain. "I just don't want you to think I've gone cold on you or anything. I just don't want people speculating any more than they already are."

"We're just friends," she says with a shrug.

My stomach drops.

Is she serious? Is that how she sees us? Just friends?

Did she just fucking friendzone me?

Gutted is not the word.

"OK," is all I can manage to say.

I get out of the car and shove some loose change into the meter. My head is spinning.

I throw the ticket on the dashboard, lock the car and shove my hands in my pockets.

"You wanna get a coffee or something?" I mutter.

"Yeah, sure," she says.

Fuck, I'm gutted. I don't get it. Why did she say we're just friends? I know we're not officially a couple or anything but I honestly thought we were more than friends.

We get a couple of frappés from Starbucks, and I watch Jess intently as we sit down at a table outside. She doesn't seem to be acting any differently with me. I can't work her out. I need to snap out of this.

"Is there anywhere you want to go?" I ask, trying to be normal.

"Nowhere in particular. I've got a bit of a weakness for Abercrombie and Fitch, if there's a shop here?" she replies.

"I think there's one further down the other way," I mutter.

"Is there anywhere you want to go?" She turns it back on me.

"I'd like some new sunglasses," I say. "But that can wait."

I still can't believe she friendzoned me.

"No, we can look for sunglasses," she says, amenably. "I'm happy just wandering around with you."

My stomach flips over at her affectionate tone and I look up at her. She's so beautiful. I can't help smiling at her.

"So do you want to go to the beach tomorrow?" I wonder.

"Sure," she nods. "Is it far from here?"

"About half an hour's drive from my house," I tell her. That reminds me, I need to text Lou and see if she's still coming to meet us. "Shall we carry these out?" I ask, holding up my half-finished drink.

"Yeah, if you like," she smiles, and my heart skips a beat. Her hair blows across her face and I want to reach forward and tuck it behind her ear for her, but she beats me to it, and in reality I couldn't have done it anyway. A gesture like that would be all over the internet in seconds if anyone caught it on their mobile phone.

"Have a great day," says a voice behind us, and I turn to see the waitress clearing our table. "Call me," she says to me, and hands me a piece of paper. Out of the corner of my eye I see Jess raise her eyebrows. She doesn't look happy.

Oh, fuck.

I take it and give the waitress an awkward smile, but I don't respond verbally.

I can't refuse girls' numbers when they give them to me. If I refuse one but accept another, it's like a public rejection to the girl I decline. And that would be bad for One Direction's image, painting me as a superficial bastard. Not to mention humiliating for the fan in question. And we all know Modest doesn't allow bad press.

Jess is already walking off, and my heart sinks as I realise I should have warned her about this. I didn't even think about it. And honestly, how would that conversation even go? Um, Jess, just to warn you, when all my fans mob me later and give me their numbers, I'm duty-bound to take them all because for some people it's the worst thing in the world to be turned down by Harry Styles? I would sound like an arrogant arsehole.

I speed up to walk next to her. "Sorry about that," he said.

"Its fine," she says abruptly.

Shit. She's pissed off.

"It's not," I sigh. "I should have warned you. I kind of have to take their numbers when they give them to me. It's really awkward."

"Poor you," she says sarcastically.

Oh my God. Is she... jealous?

I can't stop the smile that's creeping across my face, and I raise one eyebrow at her.

"Are you jealous?" I ask.

"No," she snaps.

Oh my God, she is. She's jealous. This is the best thing ever!!

"You sure about that?" I grin cheekily, trying to get her to look at me, but she is staring stubbornly ahead.

"Yep."

OK, I need to stop teasing her and show her I'm not a womaniser. There's a rubbish bin by the edge of the road, so I veer off towards it and I can see her watching me. I rip the piece of paper in two and drop it in the bin, and then increase my pace to catch her up again.

She doesn't look at me.

I lean my face towards hers.

"You're sexy when you're cross," I tease.

"I'm not cross."

"If you say so," I smirk.

I'm practically swaggering. I need to fucking stop this.

"I do say so."

Haha, Jess you're fooling no one.

"Smile at me then," I challenge her, but she ignores me and looks away into a shop window.

"Admit it, you're a tiny bit jealous," I grin.

"I'm really not," she says, with attitude. "Honestly. We're just friends. It's up to you if you want to take someone's number."

I stop dead in my tracks. What the fuck is it with this fucking 'just friends' shit?

I've gone from giddy to fuming.

"I didn't take her number! She gave it to me and I threw it in the bin!" I say, raising my voice a little. "But just admit you're jealous."

"Why did you throw it in the bin?" she demands, stopping too.

What? Isn't that obvious?

"Because I'm not going to call her," I say, confused.

"Exactly," she says shortly. "So why would I be jealous?"

Oh.

I'm even more confused.

We look at each other for a moment, both frowning.

"Come on, there's a Sunglasses Hut up there," she says finally, pointing to a shop a bit further up, and we begin walking towards it.

I shove my hands back in my pockets again, picking over the last half hour in my head.

She friendzoned me. Then she got jealous because another girl gave me her number. Then she friendzoned me again.

Does she only want me when she thinks she can't have me?

Why does she keep blowing hot and cold?

She seems to thaw a bit in Sunglasses Hut, and as we step out onto the street, me equipped with a new pair of sunglasses, I have to stop myself from holding her hand.

"Are you ready for lunch yet?" I ask. It's gone twelve.

"Yeah, I'm feeling a bit hungry," she replies, so we walk into the next cafe we see. I lead Jess over to a table in the corner of the outside seating area, and we begin looking over the menu.

Her hair looks really shiny today. It's literally glistening in the sunlight. Does girls' hair normally do that? I've never noticed it before.

I glance around at the other tables to see if anyone else's hair shines like this, but then I realise I'm drawing attention to myself and quickly put my head down again.

I want to hold her hand across the table, but I can't risk it. If someone sees us, it will be on Twitter in seconds.

"See anything you like?" I ask her.

"Plenty," she flirts, and my heart skips a beat.

Does she mean me?

"Can I take your ord- Hi!"

I look up and see a waitress is standing next to us with her little pad, her face bright red. She takes our order and hurries away quickly, banging into a chair on her way inside.

I'm sure I hear Jess mutter, "I feel your pain," but when I look up she is staring after the waitress, and I'm lost.

Our drinks arrive a minute later, and the waitress asks, breathlessly, "I'm sorry to bother you, but please could I have your autograph?"

"Of course," I smile, silently praying she doesn't slip me her number. I half suspect Jess might walk out if she does.

I ask for her name and scribble a quick message on her pad for her, and she thanks me repeatedly before she walks away.

"Sorry," I say to Jess awkwardly, but she's smiling at me.

"It's fine," she says. "I think it's lovely that you're always so polite to your fans."

Except when they give me their number, right? Ha, I knew she was fucking jealous before.

I smile back, and lean back in my chair, stretching my leg out so it touches hers. I can't hold her hand, so this will have to do. I know she's understood the gesture because she smiles knowingly at me, and gently slides her leg against mine, but she does it in a way that to anyone else it looks like she's just shifting position in her chair.

My heart begins to race at our silent exchange. I still can't believe she's on my wavelength, with everything.

Suddenly she pulls her leg away and sits up straight, her face serious. I'm confused at the sudden change in atmosphere, until I see a girl sitting at another table pointing her phone in our direction. I lean my face on my hand and turn away so she can't get my face in her picture.

Honestly, I'd rather people were just upfront about taking pictures of me. At least that way I'm prepared for it. I mean, would you want a picture of you mid-yawn all over Twitter?

"Sorry about this," I say to Jess, as discreetly as I can.

"It's fine, it doesn't bother me," she smiles.

The waitress appears with our lunch, and her hands appear to be shaking as she puts the plates down on the table. Jess gives her a sympathetic smile, and we begin to eat.

My phone vibrates and I pull it out of my pocket discreetly. It's Lou.

What time shall I meet you at the beach tomorrow? xx

We'll be there from late morning so any time is fine x, I reply, and slip my phone away again. I hate it when people text on dates. I find it so rude.

"Harry!" I hear someone shout a few minutes later, and I look up instinctively.

It's a couple of girls who have stopped on the pavement and are giggling. I wave shyly and they giggle and stamp their feet. Glancing around I can see over half the restaurant looking at me and Jess. I had been so absorbed in our conversation I hadn't noticed everyone staring. I can see a few phones being aimed in our direction and I shift nervously and look over at Jess. She's looking nervous too.

I don't want this attention. I just want to have a quiet date with my girlfriend. And I certainly don't want to have to deal with the awkward questions once these pictures go viral and the world wants to know who Jess is.

"Excuse me," a girl's voice says by my shoulder. I look up. "I'm sorry to disturb your lunch, but please could I have a picture with you?" she asks, her lip trembling. I can't say no.

I let her take a couple of selfies with me and then she gushes her thanks and scurries away. I know she didn't mean to be rude, and I'm glad she didn't ask questions, but it does annoy me that she didn't even acknowledge Jess. She's not invisible.

Jess stands up once we've finished. "I'll be back in a sec," she says, and weaves her way through the tables towards the bathrooms.

As soon as she's out of sight several teenage girls come over to my table and start asking for selfies. I feel embarrassed, because they're quite loud, and I'm conscious that other people are trying to enjoy a quiet lunch. I pose for pictures with them, trying to be as quiet as possible, and I'm relieved when Jess appears next to me. I get to my feet quickly and the girls stare open-mouthed at Jess.

"Nice to meet you," I say to them, and Jess reaches over and picks up her bag, shoving her purse back inside.

"I've paid, let's go," she says, and my heart skips a beat.

As if she's just treated me to lunch. This actually feels like a normal relationship.

We scoot onto the street and Jess quickly ducks into a shop. I follow her, and we see the gaggle of girls scurry past, craning their necks, obviously looking for us.

"Sorry about that," I say, for the millionth time today.

"It's fine," she replies, grinning. "I've just been asked for a selfie by a girl in the bathroom - she was asking all sorts of awkward questions."

"Like what?" I ask, but she waves her hand breezily.

"Nothing I couldn't handle. I can't believe she wanted a picture with me, just because I was with you!"

"Maybe she wanted a picture with you because you're beautiful," I say, sincerely, and she blushes beetroot.

"No, it was definitely because I was with you," she says, in a higher pitch than usual.

"Maybe that was just her excuse," I insist, and she smiles shyly, her face still bright red, and looks away.

We mooch around a few of the shops, and I wait outside the changing rooms while she tries some stuff on. She's in and out fairly quickly, settling on a couple of tops.

"You fancy another frappé?" I ask , catching sight of another Starbucks as we step outside into the afternoon sun.

"Definitely," she agrees, so we head over.

"Do you want to head back after this?" I ask, once we're sat down, and she nods. "If you're lucky I might throw you in the pool again," I tease.

She gives me a sassy look.

"I'd like to see you try. It's 3-2, remember?"

Wrong, Jessie Braddy.

"Actually it's 3-3," I remind her. "I pulled you in again later on, right before we, uh..."

Before we had the best sex of my life, without using a condom.

Is it wrong that I want to do that again?

Of course it's fucking wrong.

I wink at her, knowing what will happen, and sure enough she blushes and looks away.

I love it when I can get this reaction from her. I nudge her knee gently with mine, grinning.

"That damn wink," she murmurs.

"Oh yeah, I forgot it makes your knees go weak," I say, huskily. I lean forward, resting my elbows on my knees.

"No you didn't," she calls me out. "You know exactly what you're doing and you use it to your advantage every time."

Damn, as if she's onto me.

"I don't know what you mean," I lie.

I'm a terrible liar.

She leans forward too, and sensually runs the tip of her finger along my bottom lip. I am immediately transported back to the night we met. I can picture her in Lagoon, doing the exact same thing, and my dick tingles at the memory.

"Yes, you do," she whispers, staring into my eyes. "And two can play that game."

I really, really don't want a boner in Starbucks.

I swallow hard and look down to see her bite her bottom lip, shyly.

And I've got a fucking boner in Starbucks.

"I really want to kiss you right now," I murmur.

She sits backs and smiles smugly.

"Another time perhaps."

How can she turn it on and off like that? I'm fucking quaking here, thanks to that move she just pulled, and she's just sitting there like we're discussing the weather.

"Still keeping me on my toes," I grin.

"Of course," she nods. "Can't have you getting complacent, can we?"

Complacent? As if.

"There's no danger of that with you," I half-laugh.

"What do you mean?"

"Just that I'm never quite sure what you're thinking," I say casually.

She gives me a disbelieving look.

"Oh come on. My mouth's always running away from me. What's not to understand?"

Um... everything?

"What you say and what you mean are two different things," I say, carefully.

"What are you talking about?"

She looks genuinely confused. I'm not going to attempt to explain it.

"Never mind." I shake my head.

"No come on," she says, seriously, and she leans forward in her chair again. "You've completely lost me."

Oh no, the mood has turned serious. That wasn't my intention. I don't want to make something out of nothing. I don't want to have this conversation right now. I need to have it when she's hammered and I'm tipsy, so she tells me the truth and won't remember that I even asked.

I reach for my drink and take a sip, stalling for time while I think of a way out of this.

"I'm just winding you up," I say, and I know she doesn't believe me by the way she's frowning at me. "You look funny when you pull that face," I laugh.

"This is my 'haven't got a clue what's going on' face," she says.

Fuck, she's not letting it drop. Me and my big mouth.

"Are you talking about earlier?" she continues.

Now I'm the one looking confused.

"What earlier?" I ask.

"When that girl gave you her number."

No, I'm talking about never knowing where I stand with you, because you blow hot and cold, you never give an inch, you keep me on my toes and I'm too fucking scared to ask you about it in case I don't like the answer.

Out loud I say, "I'm just winding you up. But speaking of that, are you ready to admit you were jealous yet?"

She rolls her eyes. "Don't start that again."

"That's a no then," I smirk.

"I wasn't jealous."

Yes, you were.

"OK," I grin, looking out of the window. I can't believe she won't admit it.

"Have you finished your drink yet?" she asks, changing the subject.

"Yep," I nod.

"Good. Let's go," she says, standing up. "I feel the need to throw you in the pool."

I laugh delightedly, because I know I'm right, and we leave Starbucks and walk in the direction of the car.

Should I reach for her hand? What if someone sees?

I glance around nervously and catch sight of four or five paps next to my car.

"Oh great," I mutter to Jess. "Keep your head down. I'll get us out of here as quick as I can."

They start shouting my name they see us.

"Excuse me, can you move away from my car please?" I say, blipping it open.

Where's Jess?

I look round and she's a couple feet behind me. I open the door and she jumps in and immediately puts her head down.

Once we're well away, I turn to her.

"Are you OK?"

"Yeah - they're a bit scary," she says, shakily.

"Sorry," I say. If they've messed this up for me I will hit the roof.

"It's fine. I just... don't really know how to handle it," she says, looking at me for reassurance.

"The way you just did," I tell her, smiling.

Honestly, she's so cool, you'd think she'd been doing this as long as me.

She's quiet on the drive back, and I let my mind wander.

What would it be like if she were my girlfriend? If we made it official?

I don't mean announce it to the world - I just mean official between us. Like, if I asked her outright.

I don't want the media getting wind of this. I don't want my private life splashed all over the headlines. The minute the press found out about me and Nadine she finished with me. I'm not saying they had anything to do with it, but it was even more embarrassing when I got dumped.

I'm way too scared to bring it up directly. I'm just going to have to drop a few hints, here and there, to test the water.

I open the car door for her when we get home, and the second we're in the house she shoves me up against the wall and presses her lips onto mine. Her tongue is warm and wet on my bottom lip and she pushes her hips against me, sending a shoot of desire through my veins.

I moan, and she breathes, "Drop your pants, Styles."

It practically makes me come there and then.

I unbutton my jeans impatiently and she pulls them down, and then I pull her shorts down. They are kicked aside as she pushes me hard against the wall again and I run my hands over the soft skin of her thighs.

"Jump," I murmur, and she springs into my arms, wrapping her legs around my waist.

I carry her through to the kitchen, frantically trying to remember where the nearest condom would be. I push away the thought of risking it without one again, and I feel a jolt of apprehension as I wonder why I am even considering things like this. I think I'm losing it.

I set her down on the work top and she reaches into my shorts and gently squeezes my erection with her fingers. My tip is wet already.

"Wait here," I whisper against her lips. "Don't move."

I scoot to the downstairs bathroom and grab a condom out of the medicine cabinet, and I'm back in the kitchen in under ten seconds, standing in between her legs.

I ease her pants down and she slides my boxers over my hips, and then pulls me to her as she strokes me again. I breathe hard into her mouth; it feels so fucking good.

"I want you," she murmurs softly, and I moan with desire as she twists my hair between her fingers and kisses me with more fire than I ever could have imagined possible.

My erection is slipping between her legs as she pulls me close to her, and it literally takes every ounce of willpower I have to pull my hips away and reach for the condom.

I know if I had stayed there any longer I would have pushed into her. I crave the feel of her all around me so much that I don't think I would have been able to stop unless she had said no. I can't take the risk again, even though I want to.

Fuck, I really want to.

Once the condom is on, I pull her to the edge of the worktop and slide into her. She gives a soft cry of pleasure and wraps her legs around me again, pulling me in so deep that if I was bareback I think my legs would have given way.

I close my eyes as her lips break away from mine and find my neck, and I let my head fall back as she trails kisses across my throat and jawline. My fingers slip under her top and inside her bra and she whimpers softly and then grips me tightly with her legs and cries out. I thrust harder and she kisses me again as I come too.

I'm sweating as I come to a stop, and my heart is racing. My knees feel weak.

What are you doing to me? I think to myself, as I lean my head on her chest and hear her heart galloping as fast as mine.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

We watch a couple of films cuddled up on the sofa after dinner, and by midnight we're both yawning.

Once we're in bed Jess gets a text from a friend at home, tipping her off about a story on the Daily Mail website. She stares at it in disbelief when she opens it. It's a non-story (does the Daily Mail ever run anything else?) about our lunch date in Beverly Hills. And they've called Jess my girlfriend.

My heart begins to race, and then lurches as she goes to look at the comments. I know from experience this is not a good idea. I pull her phone out of her hand.

"Don't read the comments."

She looks surprised.

"Why not?" she asks.

"Because there will be hundreds of comments about how beautiful you are," I tell her, "and one comment saying something horrible, but that one horrible comment will be the one you remember. Trust me, I've been there, done it, bought the t-shirt."

The articles that are written about me have been bad enough, but when people start saying I look like I need a good wash, I can't help but take it to heart. I can't help what I look like.

"I can't believe it's on the Daily Mail!" Jess is saying. "Why do they keep calling me your girlfriend? Can't two members of the opposite sex be friends?"

And there it is again.

I tell her she's beautiful, she gives me 'friends.'

"That really bothers you doesn't it," I mutter, looking down at the covers.

"The invasion of privacy bothers me," she says slowly, like she's making a well-rehearsed speech. "And the speculation about our private life. It must drive you crazy."

Wrong. This fucking drives me crazy.

Worse than that.

It hurts.

It fucking hurts, alright?

I lie down and pull the duvet over me and everything goes quiet for a minute. I don't look at Jess. I feel humiliated.

"Grimmy's DM'd me," she says after a minute, and I immediately forget everything and sit up.

"What's he saying?"

She looks down at her phone.

"Harry booked the paps to make sure he got some media attention."

What?

"What?! He did not say that," I protest, leaning forward to see, but she turns away, laughing. I make a grab for it, and end up with one arm hooked around her, on my knees on the bed.

On my knees. Sounds about right.

"What did he really say?" I ask, my face only an inch from hers.

She doesn't reply, but bites down on her bottom lip. I stare at it, feeling blood rushing to my groin.

"Well?" I ask, and I'm pleased I sound like I'm in control.

She shrugs cheekily, so I tickle her.

The effect is instant. She screams, begging me to stop, but I tickle her harder, grinning at how powerless she's suddenly become.

"Tell me what Grimmy said," I demand, and I begin to laugh. She's fucking adorable.

She's trying to push my hands away so I grab them both and push her onto her back on the bed, and her breath hitches in her throat as she looks at me, suddenly serious.

"Last chance," I threaten.

"Or what?" she scoffs.

"Or face the consequences."

"I'll take the consequences," she says, casually, but I can tell by the way her breathing has become laboured that I'm making her heart pound. That thought in turn makes my heart pound.

OK, Jess. Have it your way. You asked for this.

I push up off the bed and I can feel her watching me as I disappear into the bathroom. I grab an elastic hair band and pull my hair back off my face, wrapping the little band around it so it stays put. She said this makes her knees go weak. Let's see if it really does.

My heart is racing as I return to the bedroom, adjusting the band in my hair. Her mouth drops open when she sees me, and my stomach flutters. I smirk as I walk over to the bed and I crawl over her again. She submits without a word and lets me push her arms above her head, and then lets out a nervous laugh. Her heart is pounding - I can see it through the skin on her chest, it's going that hard.

I go in for the kill.

I wink.

"Oh my Styles," she blurts.

WHAT?!

"What did you just say?!" I practically yelp.

"I don't fucking know, Harry," she stumbles. "You can't just come in here with that... that... mun, and wink at me, and expect me to be able to think straight."

That what?

I laugh out loud. I'm on cloud nine.

"What the hell is a mun?" I ask.

"Man bun," she says in a small voice, still staring at me, and I can't stop myself from cackling delightedly.

"What?!" she whines. "I didn't make up the word!"

"What's so great about the mun?" I ask, grinning. I'm blatantly fishing for compliments but I don't care. It's not often she loses her cool like this so I'm making the most of it.

"The question should be Harry, what is NOT so great about the mun?"

Oh my fucking God, she's quoting Friends at me. Could she BE any more perfect?

"And the answer to that would be..," she continues.

"Nothing," I finish, in the same tone Joey uses in the episode. She smiles shyly and my stomach flutters again.

She's so beautiful.

"I can't even breathe with you looking like that," she says suddenly, and my stomach does a full somersault. I feel suddenly shy that she's being so open about her attraction to me, and I look away for a second and bite my lip.

I'm lost for words.

I can feel her eyes on me, and it just makes me even more shy. When I look back at her, I know my face is betraying my emotions.

"Are you doing this on purpose?" she whispers. "Stop it."

I don't know what she means.

"Stop what?" I ask, but she just shakes her head wordlessly.

I want her to elaborate, but I don't want to push my luck. Instead I lower myself to kiss her, and she pulls her hands free and curls her fingertips around the back of my neck, sending goosebumps down my back.

My body reacts to her every touch. I don't think I have ever felt this way before.

I lie down on top of her and as the kiss deepens she gently bites my bottom lip, making my whole body tingle with desire.

"What are you doing to me?" I whisper.

"Me?" she whispers back. "You're the one who takes my breath away just by looking at me."

I just shake my head at her.

She doesn't get it. She doesn't understand how I feel about her.

I don't even understand how I feel about her.

I don't know what else to say, so I kiss her, and let her push me onto my back and climb on top of me, her arms around me.

Her hair tickles my face, and I know without question there is nowhere on this earth I would rather be right now than in her arms.