(No Control - 50. Ready To Run, second part)

I wake up the following morning to Jess pressed against my back, softly kissing the skin between my shoulder blades. I lay still for a minute, enjoying the feeling, totally content.

She agreed to be my girlfriend last night.

I smile sleepily at this thought, and feel a flutter of butterflies in my stomach. I have an inkling this could be the start of something amazing.

I wish I'd asked her sooner. I don't want her to go home. I wish, more than anything, that she could stay another week.

The alarm sounds on her phone and she rolls away across the bed to switch it off, leaving my back cold, and I sigh.

"Don't go," I beg, and my voice comes out all hoarse and croaky because I haven't spoken yet.

"I'm just snoozing the alarm again," she whispers, and a second later she's pressed up against me again.

That wasn't what I meant. I feel stupid now.

"Don't go home," I clarify, and I feel her give deep sigh, and press her cheek against me.

"I have to," she says, a little sadly. "I wish I didn't, but I do. "

I knew this would be her answer, and I believe her when she says she doesn't want to go. But that doesn't stop me wishing it could be different.

"I know," I mumble.

She lays her hand across my stomach and I clasp it in mine and thread my fingers through hers, gently tracing my fingertips over the back of her hand. I can feel her breath on my shoulder blades, tickling my skin gently.

I'm really going to miss her. Maybe I should change my plans. I could go back home after all our commitments are met over here and spend the Spring in London. I could take her to Mum's for a long weekend, introduce her to Gemma. I think they'd get along.

My thoughts are interrupted by a trail of soft kisses across my back, and then Jess breaks her hand away from mine and slips it into my boxers.

"What are you doing?" I smirk, rolling over to look at her. She slips her leg over mine and sits up, astride me, her hand now rubbing my growing erection.

"Making the most of the next five minutes before my alarm goes off," she says, grinning cheekily at me as she leans down to kiss me.

"Go on then, let's see what you can do in five minutes," I grin back, tossing a condom at her and groaning as she squeezes me gently.

She strokes me agonisingly slowly while she kisses my neck, and gasps against my collarbone as I slide one, then two fingers inside her. We tease each other like this almost to the brink, before she pulls away suddenly and rolls the condom onto me. She lowers herself onto me and I groan at the warmth, my hips twitching involuntarily. Five minutes has turned into twenty minutes, ignoring both alarms, and by the time I finally lose control and collapse back on the bed we are running late.

Jess jumps off me straight away and I try to sit up and reach for her but she has disappeared into the bathroom before I can pull myself up properly.

"Come back," I whine, but the door shuts firmly and I flop back again, my heart still beating fast after our morning sex.

I lay on the bed with my eyes closed until I hear the bathroom door open, and I watch as Jess emerges wearing only a white towel, and throws her toiletries in her case. I haul myself off the bed and give her a quick kiss on my way to the bathroom.

She's dressed by the time I come out, so I pull my clothes on and we head to the kitchen for breakfast.

"What are you going to say if anyone asks about us?" she asks suddenly as I have a mouth full of pancake, and I shrug to buy some time while I swallow.

"Nothing, as usual," I answer eventually. "Why?"

"I was just wondering," she says, staring out over the hills. "What should I say if anyone asks me?"

"Say we're friends," I suggest. "We've never denied that, have we?"

"OK," she says, but she doesn't sound sure.

My heart misses a beat. She's not having second thoughts, is she?

"What's up?" I ask.

"No, nothing, I just..." She hesitates. "It's one thing saying we're friends when I thought that's all we were, but it's another thing saying it when we're so much more than that."

I can't believe she thought we were just friends. Finally the friendzoning comments are starting to make sense.

"Is that really all you thought we were?" I smile.

"Well... yeah," she says, and her cheeks are tinged with pink. "Obviously I wanted more, but I just didn't think you ever would..."

The doorbell rings, cutting her off.

"That'll be the car. I'll grab your case," I offer, and I return to the bedroom where her case is sitting on the floor.

On the chair is my Green Bay Packers hoodie, which I know she feels guilty taking, so I am just going to slip it into her case as a surprise for when she gets home.

I go to open the zip, but to my dismay, it is locked. Fuck.

I tug at it fruitlessly before glancing around the room for the padlock key, but to no avail. I sit back on my heels, frustrated.

If I were Jess, where would I put the key to my case?

Probably in my hand luggage, which is already downstairs.

Damn.

I look around the room for inspiration, and my eye falls on one of Jess's hair slide things on the carpet under a chair. I grab it, twist it into a loop and shove the end into the lock. It will be a miracle if this works.

After half a minute of fiddling the lock pops open, and I throw the slide on the floor again and open the case excitedly. I carefully fold the hoodie and lay it on top of her stuff, zip the case up again, reattach the padlock, and awkwardly carry it downstairs. I'm breaking out in a sweat by the time I get it to the front door, and Kevin, my driver for today, takes it from me with one hand and swings it into the boot.

He grins at me and I give him a sheepish smile in return.

"Give us a minute," I tell him, and he winks and gets in the car as I shut the front door and turn to Jess.

"There are likely to be paps at the airport so we need to say goodbye properly here," I explain. "If we don't want them getting wind of us then we need to avoid a long drawn out airport goodbye."

She scoffs at me. "I'm not going to make a scene. I don't do tears in airports."

"Now why doesn't that surprise me?" I smile, and she reaches up and drapes her arms around my neck.

"It doesn't mean I don't care," she says, softly.

I slide my arms round her waist and kiss her.

"I hope not," I say, half seriously.

"I care far more than you know, Harry," she says suddenly, and my heart gives a sharp jump.

What does she mean by this?

"So tell me, then," I plead, but she shakes her head and kisses me instead.

"Thank you for an absolutely amazing week," she says, smiling at me.

"Ditto," I respond. "This place is going to seem very empty without you. I'll speak to Modest later on today about us. I'll let you know what they say."

I'm dreading that conversation, but Jess doesn't need to know that.

"OK," she says, and the doorbell rings again.

"We need to get going, H," Kevin says, as I open the door with a sigh.

"Yeah alright," I mutter, and pout at Jess. "You ready?"

She looks even sadder than me, so I give her a reassuring kiss and we get in the car.

I hold her hand all the way to the airport, and we make small talk about irrelevant shite. I can't stop thinking about how much I'm going to miss her. I shouldn't be feeling like this.

When we arrive at LAX, Dale gets out of the car behind us and picks up Jess's case for her. The fucking paps are out in force, of course, clicking their cameras and blinding us as we stride quickly towards the terminal.

Just as we're about to walk through the doors I hear one of the little dickheads shout, "Hey Harry! Taylor Swift says she's finally deleted your number now. Will you miss the hook ups?"

My heart literally drops to the floor as I snap my head up to stare, horrified, at the pap who has just fucking ruined everything. I try not to let my shock show on my face, but as we enter the terminal building my heart is pounding and I feel dizzy.

How the fuck does he know about me and Taylor? What the fuck has she been saying? Why oh fucking why didn't I just tell Jess about this yesterday?

"What did he mean by that, Harry?" Jess whispers, practically running to catch up with me as I stride across the lobby towards her check-in counter.

I can't even speak to answer her. I'm trying to think how to explain this without making it sound as bad as I know it will sound.

"Harry?" she presses.

Fuck. I feel sick. My hands are shaking.

"Can you stay back please," Dale asks the paps, who are merrily photographing the worst moment of my life.

I turn to look at Jess, to assess the damage, and when our eyes meet I can read the horror on her face. She knows. She knows it's fucking true.

She turns away and checks in, and I lick my lips nervously trying not to let the paps see that anything is wrong. It must show on my face, though.

I need to get Jess away from everyone so I can talk to her in private. As discreet as she is, I have a feeling her temper may be a force to be reckoned with, if the shit she gave her brother is anything to go by.

When she turns back to me she looks pissed off, and I run my hand through my hair, trying to calm my nerves.

"What the fuck is going on?" she asks, bluntly.

A fucking pap is practically in my fucking face with his stupid fucking camera as I am trying to gather my thoughts and explain this fucking mess.

"Look, let's go somewhere private - will you get your camera out of my face please!" I snap, losing my rag.

"You heard him, back off," Dale booms, stepping between us and shooing the paps away. I take the opportunity while they are distracted to lead Jess by the arm over to a quiet corner where no one is looking at us, in sight of the door to Departures.

"Harry you're worrying me," she pleads, and my stomach gives a nervous flutter as I know how this is going to sound. I am praying she trusts me, but in my heart I know it's a struggle for her, and I'm about to make things ten times worse.

"Look, I should have told you this sooner, " I stammer, "but it really isn't important and I didn't want to ruin our time together..."

"What isn't important? What are you talking about?" she interrupts.

Oh God. Oh fucking God. Here goes.

"OK, well, you know I dated Taylor Swift a couple of years ago..."

"Yeah," she says, rolling her eyes.

"Well after it ended publicly, we sort of... carried on behind closed doors," I say weakly, ashamed at how crass this sounds. "On and off. You know. Inbetween relationships and stuff..."

She was my fuck buddy, I say in my head.

"You've been hooking up with Taylor Swift?" she says in disgust.

I can't meet her eyes. I wish I'd been honest with her yesterday.

"Um, yeah, I guess you could say that."

I run my hand through my hair again.

"Oh my God," she says, and physically takes a step away from me.

"Look, I should have told you sooner but it's in the past and we haven't really talked about exes and stuff yet so it didn't seem right to bring it up out the blue," I say hastily, trying to make her understand that I didn't set out to deceive her. Not exactly, anyway.

"Oh so you didn't think it important to tell me you're still hooking up with your ex?" she says, in a strangled voice.

Still?

"What? I'm not still hooking up with her now!" I protest, and stupidly give a sort of laugh before I catch myself. Laughing at her is not the way to reassure her that this was just a meaningless arrangement.

Thinking about it, that's probably not the best thing to say right now either.

"Oh God," she says, looking away like she's remembering something. "Louis even mentioned it that night they stayed over... he asked you, and you... you said you didn't know..."

What? She's lost me.

"What are you talking about?" I mutter.

"I heard you when I was in the kitchen," she explains, and I can feel the colour draining from my face as I suddenly recall the conversation with Louis and Liam about Taylor. "Louis asked you 'No more Swifty then?'" she continues, "and Liam said something about Calvin Harris and you said 'Dunno.' And then when I walked in you all stopped talking..." She trails off, and I am speechless. "You didn't say no," she says flatly.

"What?" I ask, stalling for time.

"When Louis asked you, 'No more Swifty then?' you didn't say no," she repeats. "You said 'Dunno.'"

"What? No I didn't," I protest.

I can't remember the full details but I know I wouldn't have answered like that. I decided weeks ago I wasn't going there again with Taylor.

"I promise I'm not still hooking up with her," I say, earnestly. "I haven't seen her in months."

"Then why the fuck is she saying she's only deleting your number now?!" she shouts suddenly, and the fury in her voice makes me jump.

"I don't know!" I say, raking my hands through my hair again. "Because she wants attention. Because she wants to write another fucking song about me. I haven't a clue. I haven't spoken to her."

She has to believe me.

"I don't believe you."

Fuck.

"Look at your face, Harry," she snaps. "You look like a rabbit caught in the headlights. You look guilty as fuck."

"No I don't," I reply. I'm starting to feel a bit annoyed now. "I'm telling you the truth, Jess. I haven't seen Taylor in months and I won't be seeing her again. At least not like that."

"Bullshit," she snaps again. "You went white as a sheet when that photographer asked you about her just then."

"Yes, because I realised I was going to have to tell you about it here, right before you leave, and I knew how it was going to sound," I tell her. "I promise I would have told you sooner if the conversation had come up, but it just never did. It's not still going on, I promise you."

I don't know what else I can say to convince her.

"Then why did Louis say that, if it wasn't still carrying on?" she demands. "And why didn't you tell him you're not seeing her anymore?"

I rack my brains, trying desperately to recall the conversation from that night, but I was drunk and it's hazy.

"Louis asked if I'd be seeing her again," I begin, "and Liam asked if she was with Calvin Harris."

I think for a second.

"I said I didn't know to Liam, and shook my head at Louis."

Yes! That was exactly it!

"Jess, please believe me," I beg. "I haven't seen her since long before Christmas and I've heard she is dating Calvin Harris but I don't know for sure. I am telling you the truth, I promise."

"I asked you," she says, accusingly. "I asked you last night if there was anything else I needed to know, and you said no."

Oh fuck, why did she have to remember that? Why do women remember every fucking detail?

I rub my face in frustration.

"I know. I wanted to tell you then, but I didn't want to make a big deal out of it when it hasn't happened for ages," I confess. "And I was scared you'd react like this. I chickened out. I'm sorry."

She begins to laugh and I look up at her hopefully before I realise it's sarcastic.

"I am so stupid," she says, wryly.

"What?" I frown. "No you're not, Jess. Why are you saying that?"

She doesn't answer, but instead opens her bag and pulls out her passport and ticket.

"I need to get the hell out of here," she mutters, looking around the terminal.

What?

Fuck - no, she can't leave like this. She can't leave me.

I reach out and grab her arm.

"Jess - don't go yet. I don't want to leave it like this," I say, urgently. "I understand you're upset that I didn't tell you but I promise I'm not still hooking up with her. I wouldn't do that to you."

My heart is hammering harder now as the gravity of this situation is dawning on me.

She yanks her arm out of my grip.

"I told you I thought this was too good to be true," she says, looking boldly at me. "I told you I didn't think I was enough for you. Turns out I was right."

How can she say that? How can she think I'm that person?

"You are everything to me," I tell her, staring into her eyes, hoping she can see the honesty and the depth of my feelings for her.

Why can't she see it?

She shakes her head, her lips pressed together.

"Well I know you're not an advocate of long term relationships but this is a new record, even for you," she says bitterly, and her words slice through me. That was low. "What's it been, like 5 or 6 hours or something?" she says derisively.

"What do you mean?" I ask, because I don't know what else to say.

That comment fucking hurt.

"You'd better hurry home, Harry, and change the sheets ready for your next hook up," she spits.

"Jess I told you I am not going to see anyone else," I say, and it comes out in a monotone. "You are my girlfriend and I'm not going to be unfaithful. I'm not hooking up with anyone."

"You can do what you want Harry, just like you always have, because I'm not your girlfriend," she declares, and my heart drops to my stomach.

I stare at her hopelessly, unable to believe what she is saying to me.

I get that she's pissed off, but come on. She's dumping me for something that hasn't even happened?

"And to think...," she chokes, "I almost told you I..." she stops and shakes her head, and my heart gives another lurch. "I'm going. Bye," she says shortly, and turns and walks away from me.

What? What does she mean?

I suddenly have this feeling - this inkling that she was going to say the L-word.

"What? What did you almost tell me? Jess!" I call after her, but she doesn't turn round. I don't know if I want her to say it. It would change everything.

"Let me go, Harry," she mutters, still walking away, and I follow her like a little lost puppy.

It's how I feel right now.

"Wait!" I plead to her back. "You can't leave like this! You can't just walk away from me!"

She reaches the end of the queue and I reach out and grab her hand. Her momentum forces her to turn around and I feel the biggest jolt yet in my stomach as I see the tears on her cheeks.

I made her cry.

Fucking hell, I made her cry. I'm an arsehole.

I feel sick.

"Jess... I'm so sorry..." I stammer. "I didn't mean to make you cry. I swear this isn't what you think it is. I haven't been playing you. I... I really really like you."

I don't know what else to say to her. I can't believe this is ending. I'm in shock. Why won't she listen to me? Why won't she believe me?

"Sure you do," she scoffs. "We both know this was nothing more than a bit of fun. For both of us. So thanks for a great time but let's not pretend we want anything more ok?"

I feel like I've been punched in the stomach as my biggest insecurity is realised.

This was only ever a bit of fun for her, like I suspected all along.

"It was never just a bit of fun for me," I say stupidly, but she shrugs indifferently and wipes away her tears.

"Well it was for me," she says. "And I got to meet One Direction. It was brilliant. Every fan's fucking dream. So thanks. Don't call me, I'll call you."

Kick me while I'm down, why don't you. Fucking hell.

I'm horrified to feel a lump in my throat at her words.

A little part of me suspects she is only saying this because she is trying to walk away unscathed, but that was a really cheap shot and quite frankly, I'm gutted.

I swallow hard and take a deep breath.

"What did you almost tell me?" I ask again, trying to focus on anything other than what she has just said. I need to know if she is in love with me, or if I was just a bit of fun.

"Nothing. It doesn't matter now."

She won't meet my eyes.

"Because if it's what I think it is, I want you to say it anyway," I blurt.

Do I? Do I want her to say that? Fuck, I don't know.

"I can't remember," she says, and I'm let off the hook. "It was nothing important. Probably something like I've been shagging my ex without telling you. Except I haven't. But apparently these things can easily slip your mind."

I don't know how much more of these digs I can take. She's really lashing out.

I close my eyes and try not to get pissed off.

"For the last time, I haven't done anything behind your back," I say as calmly as I can.

"Whatever," she says sarcastically. "I'm going now, I have a plane to catch. Bye."

Fucking hell, this can not be happening. I need to put my foot down. People do not just walk away from me, damn it.

"Don't walk away from me, Jess," I say, trying to be authoritative.

She ignores me, and carries on walking away. She's so fucking stubborn.

"Jess," I say, and I know she can hear me as she shows her ticket to the man at the door, but she doesn't acknowledge me.

She will eventually. I know she will. She'll pack this in any second, and listen to reason.

The man gives her her ticket back and she starts to turn away.

What the fuck - she's actually fucking going?!

"Jess!" I call, a touch of panic in my voice now as she ignores me yet again.

"JESS!" I shout, not caring who hears me. "Don't leave. Please!"

I'm standing right next to the barrier now, gripping it tightly and staring at her in disbelief, my eyes wide. She turns her head to look at me, and I can see she is crying again. It breaks my heart. I've let her down, and now she is leaving me before this even had a chance to get off the ground.

"Jess," I beg, my voice wavering, and for a split second I think she's going to change her mind.

But then she turns away, almost in slow motion and walks through the door to the departure lounge, and my whole world comes crashing down.