(No Control - 56. Back For You)

"What are you doing here?!" she exclaims. She's still staring at me with a mixture of shock and disbelief. There's a trace of uncertainty too and this makes me nervous.

"I think we need to talk," I tell her.

"Okay. What about?"

She's looking at me nervously now, and I can't resist a sarcastic comment.

"The economic crisis in Greece," I say flatly. "What do you think?"

Seriously. How can she not know why I'm here?

She stands up as I venture into the room, and she begins twisting her fingers together. I want to pull her into my arms there and then and beg her not to be nervous around me, but I'm not sure how she will react.

"Why were you at the Big Weekend?" she asks.

Great. Straight to the point, no beating around the bush. I feel suddenly ridiculous that I flew all this way for her.

"I thought you were staying in LA," she says, looking hard at me, and I feel myself crumbling under her stare.

I pretend to study my fingernails as I answer her shyly:

"I was. I changed my mind. I came back... for you."

"Oh my God, Harry," she whispers, and out of the corner of my eye I see her head tilt back, staring up at the ceiling as if looking for divine inspiration. I lift my gaze and watch her for a moment, and eventually she looks back down and stares into my eyes.

"How did you get past Calvin?" she wants to know, and her words remind me of playing video games as a child, having to defeat the boss on the final level. I smirk at the memory, and immediately have this desire to share this piece of my childhood with her.

"You make it sound like this is the final level of Super Mario or something," I begin, "and he's the boss you have to defeat at the end before you run up the stairs and rescue the princess."

She twists her lips involuntarily into her own smirk.

"Well your face is still in tact so he either doesn't know you're here or you talked him round," she replies, and I feel the need to defend him, and let her know she has him to thank for me being here. Or not thank. I haven't quite worked her out yet.

"Actually, it's sort of down to him I'm even here at all," I begin.

"What?"

She looks confused.

"I didn't know where you'd gone," I explain. "Your friend Callie said you'd left but hadn't gone home, but wouldn't go into details. I pressed her on it but she wouldn't give anything away. I looked on Twitter and there was nothing, so I tried Facebook and saw your brother had tagged you here, with a reference to Where Do Broken Hearts Go. I could see it on the map so I started driving here and on the way I called the driver who took you home from the airport and got him to tell me the postcode and house number."

Her eyes widen more and more with each word, and by the end of this her mouth is hanging open with surprise.

"Why?" she asks breathlessly.

Seriously??

"I told you," I say, a little impatiently. "We need to talk."

"It's a lot of hassle to go to just to talk to me," she remarks. "We can talk on the phone."

Well, we could if you'd answered, or called me back. And maybe I think you're worth the hassle.

"You wouldn't answer," I shrug.

"I couldn't face another row," she mutters, looking away.

"And you wouldn't even look at my texts," I press, anxious to find out why she was so desperate to break all contact with me. I swear to God if she says Gary is her new boyfriend I don't know what I'll do. The thought makes my heart hurt.

"I thought you'd be shouting at me again, like you did on the phone," she says, looking perplexed. "I couldn't take any more. I may have deserved it but it still hurts."

She lifts her arms up and massages her temples with her fingers. She looks so cute when she's worried.

"Are you going out with Gary?" I ask, fearfully.

"No," she says, her eyes closed.

Why isn't she looking at me? Is she lying?

"Why did you kiss him?" I persist, and she opens her eyes to look into mine.

"Because I saw you standing with your arm around a girl and I just assumed it was your girlfriend," she says, bluntly. "I was gutted, and I kissed Gary to make you think I was fine with it."

Why would she feel like that, when she dumped me? Unless.... unless she's having second thoughts?

"You were the one who ended it," I remind her.

"Yes, and I told you the reasons why," she replies. "It had nothing to do with you, it was because of me."

"Do you regret it?" I ask quickly.

"Regret what?"

"Ending it."

My heart is pounding. It's practically making my t-shirt vibrate.

"Yes," she says, and her voice is shaking with nerves.

"Do you still want to be with me?" I ask, and it comes out all husky because I am as nervous as she is. My whole fucking life seems to depend on her answer.

I hold my breath as she tugs nervously at the sleeves of the hoodie that looks far better on her, covering her fingers.

"Yes," she says, in the same tone as before.

I feel my breath leave my body in a rush, and shove my hands back in my pockets so she can't see them trembling.

"I know I don't deserve you," she says hastily, and I look up to see her watching my face earnestly. "I'm sorry for everything I put you through. I didn't mean to mess you about, I swear. There's so much I need to explain..."

She hesitates, and I jump in after a moment.

"I'm sorry I hurt you," I apologise. "I never meant to do that. I've only lied to you once, and it was for the best intentions. I promise."

"I believe you," she says immediately, and I can tell by the way she is looking at me that she does believe me. Finally. I mean, it's only taken nearly three months.

"I've missed you so much," I murmur shyly, moving closer to her.

I want nothing more than to kiss her right now. I know we're no closer to sorting out our problems, but we both seem keen to try. Don't we?

"I've missed you too," she says sadly. "I've been a mess."

I take another step towards her, placing my feet in front of hers so there is only a foot of space between us.

"Me too," I say softly, and she reaches forward with her hand and plays with the bottom of my shirt, not meeting my eyes. It's turning me on. Fuck.

"Jess - do you think...," I begin, stumbling over my words. "Maybe once we've talked stuff through... sorted everything out... maybe - maybe we can we start again?"

"I'd really like that," she says softly, and I can't stop the smile of relief and delight breaking across my face.

Do I kiss her now? Is she giving me the green light?

This reminds me of the night we met, standing in the kitchen at that house party.

"So I've never been any good at reading road signs," I say, unable to hide my smirk.

Smooth as fuck.

She grins indulgently at me. "Just follow your instincts and you'll be fine," she says, and I lean forward and close my eyes, craving the feel of her lips on mine.

I feel her breath brush my cheek as her mouth presses softly against mine, and desire flares inside me like wildfire. I pull her body against me without opening my eyes and her fingers are straight to my hair, tugging at it gently. I slip my hands down to her waist and softly stroke her skin underneath the hem of the hoodie, and her fingers begin unbuttoning my shirt before slipping it off my shoulders.

Her hands are soft and smooth on my chest, sending a wave of goosebumps across my skin. I push her hoodie up over her head and drop it on the floor, and she pulls me against her so hard we lose our balance and fall onto the bed. My dick is rock hard, and presses against her groin.

I am so turned on, I think I might come in my pants. Her kisses are becoming more urgent and her breathing is laboured, and she moans, so quietly I think for a moment I have imagined it. I push my hips forward to press against her again, completely forgetting where I am until a frenzied voice bellows, "WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?"

I almost shit myself in fear as I spring off the bed like a jack in the box to see Calvin standing in the doorway with a manic look on his face, his eyes mad and wide, and his fists clenched.

"Sorry mate, sorry mate," I mumble, bending down to grab my shirt off the floor, praying to God he doesn't notice my raging boner that is practically splitting the denim open of my skinny jeans.

"I didn't let you up here to paw my sister!" he hisses furiously as I pull my shirt back on my shoulders, and he turns his gaze away from Jess who is only wearing a bra and leggings, thanks to me removing her top a minute ago.

"Christ alive, Jess, put some fucking clothes on!" he rages, and she swipes the hoodie back up off the floor and covers her chest with it.

"Alright, calm down," she mutters.

"Calm down?!" he mocks in disbelief, before turning to me. "You," he spits, stabbing his finger at me threateningly, "you are skating on very thin ice."

"Will you keep your voice down!" Jess whispers fiercely.

"I'm sorry mate," I apologise fervently. "Won't happen again."

What else can I say? Sorry I almost fucked your sister with her bedroom door wide open? I need to stop imagining these scenarios.

"Woah, hold on, excuse me," Jess interrupts indignantly. "One - you are not Dad, Calvin. Two - this is not your house so don't come barging in here telling me what I can and can't do. And three - what do you think we did in LA, played fucking Scrabble?!"

I close my eyes in defeat. Has she got a death wish or something?

Calvin's eyes widen, and his face turns puce.

"Jess, I am really trying not to get my head kicked in here," I mutter out of the corner of my mouth.

She frowns and steps between me and her brother, facing him, and places the palm of her hand on his chest before giving him a gentle shove backwards.

"I appreciate the brotherly concern," she says firmly, "but I am FINE."

"I'm on my best behaviour from now on, I promise," I add, sincerely.

"You'd fucking better be," he says menacingly. "I've been gunning for you for weeks. Don't give me an excuse."

Gunning for me? He's got a gun?!

"Calvin!" Jess scolds, furiously. "For fuck's sake, back off! You're being a prick!"

He glares at us for a moment, before stepping back into the doorway to the hall. "I gave you a free pass, getting you here," he reminds me, jabbing his finger at me again. "Don't abuse it."

"I know," I reply, soberly. I haven't forgotten. Well, maybe I had momentarily, but not in a disrespectful way. "And I really appreciate it," I add. "I'd be the same over my sister."

"What are you talking about, a free pass?" Jess pipes up. "You didn't get Harry here, he drove."

"How do you think he knew where to come?" Calvin retorts, rolling his eyes. "I couldn't call or text him because I don't have his number. He wouldn't have seen a tweet. The only place I knew I could potentially reach him was Facebook. That's why I tagged you in that post. So if he wanted to come, he could."

"But... but... you hate Harry!" Jess protests, open-mouthed.

Well.

Good to know where I stand, I suppose.

"Err, I'm right here," I remind them, with a casual wave, but they ignore me, too wrapped up in their own exchange.

"I hate any guy who comes near my sister," Calvin says casually. "But this poor sod..." (he hooks a thumb at me, and I resist the urge to wave again) "you've given him some shit, Jess. And for what it's worth I don't think he deserved all of it. Most of it, but not all." He looks me in the eye again. "Fuck this up and I will kill you," he says, murderously, and I give a solemn nod.

"So you wanted him to come here?!" Jess says in confusion, and Calvin gives a non-committal shrug.

"I wanted him to have the option. And if he did come, he could either burst in like a knight in shining armour and redeem himself and stop you fucking wailing, or I could break his legs. Win win."

What the fuck? He enticed me here through Facebook so he could beat the shit out of me if he decided to? I'm actually a little bit terrified.

And why does he keep saying I'm being a knight in shining armour? This isn't some love song.

Hmmm....

My thoughts are broken by Jess giving Calvin a hug, and him muttering awkwardly, "I thought I told you to put some clothes on."

She obeys and pulls the Green Bay Packers hoodie on again. She looks so fucking adorable in it.

"Jess, is Harry staying for tea?" Martha calls from downstairs.

"We don't have to stay here for dinner," Jess says to me. "We can go out somewhere if you want."

Doesn't she want to do the whole meet-the-parents thing yet? It's a bit late to be worried about that, surely?

"Don't be silly," I frown at her. "Are you ashamed of me or something?"

"Ashamed of you?" she says incredulously. "I'm ashamed of them!"

"Jessica?" Martha calls again.

"Don't be so rude," I hiss as Jess, and I quickly button up my shirt before venturing onto the landing and looking down the stairs. "That would be lovely, Mrs Bradshaw. Thank you."

"Good. It'll be ready in five minutes," she smiles up at me.

Calvin walks off down the stairs without a word, and Jess joins me on the landing.

"Are you sure you're ready for this?" she asks timidly. "My mum and dad... they're kind of embarrassing."

"Aren't all parents embarrassing?" I chuckle.

"Well yeah but honestly, mine are worse than most," she says, with a pained expression. "My dad thinks you're in a band called Wrong Direction, and he was a little wary about me coming to LA to stay with 'a boy'."

She's so cute when she's stressing. I can't stop staring at her.

"Stop stressing. It'll be fine," I smile. "Maybe we could go out somewhere after dinner and talk? Sort things out?"

Looks like I'll be heading to Mum's a day later than planned, if Jess agrees to having a heart to heart tonight.

"I'd really like that," she says, smiling shyly back, and I can't resist kissing her gently, because she is cute and funny and gorgeous and mine.

As soon as our lips touch the burn of desire is back, and she pulls me against her, leaning against the wall and nudging her hips to mine.

"Damn it, Harry," she breathes, and I pull away instantly before I fuck her senseless against this wall.

"Don't start this," I plead. "I promised your brother I'd be on best behaviour."

"Ugh," she mutters in disgust. "He's a bloody hypocrite, the way he treats women."

"I wouldn't be here now if it wasn't for him," I point out.

I need to remember this. Especially when she is kissing me like that and impure thoughts are invading my mind.

"I still can't believe he did that," she muses.

"Well, I owe him," I say, firmly. "So I don't want to do anything that might piss him off."

"Yeah, yeah," she says, rolling her eyes, but she knows I'm right. "We'd better go downstairs. Oh God," she whimpers, suddenly. "Are you ready for this? Have you prepared yourself? It's going to be horrendous."

I grin at her obvious discomfort as we walk down the stairs. "I'm looking forward to it," I tell her.

Jess shows me through to the dining room, and Calvin beams at me. It's unnerving.

"Harry!" he says in a exaggerated posh accent. "Do have a seat!"

He gestures to an empty seat and I glance nervously at Jess and sit down, feeling relieved when she takes the chair next to me.

I introduce myself to her dad as her mum brings the plates through, and he pours us all a drink.

"So, what exactly is it you do, Harry?" he asks, as I am about to shove food in my mouth. I put my fork back down on my plate and clear my throat.

"Um, I'm a singer. I'm in a band."

That sounds fucking shit, doesn't it? I'd go crazy if Gemma brought home some guy who claimed to be 'a singer in a band.'

"Ah yes, One Direction," he says, nodding and smiling knowingly at Jess. I take this opportunity to attempt a bite of food, but I get interrupted.

"So you're quite famous eh?" he asks, turning back to me, and I have to put my fork back down again.

"Daaad," Maddie groans from across the table, and I smile at her as I answer Jess's dad.

"Yes, I suppose so," I say, a little uncomfortably. If I say yes I'm going to sound like an arrogant prick.

Maddie's fork clatters on the table noisily, making me jump slightly, and everyone looks at her.

I pick up my own fork again.

"So are you on a tour or something at the moment?" he asks me.

I put the fork down.

"Um, we're currently on a two month break," I explain. "We've done Australia, Japan, South Africa, the Philippines and Dubai." I hope I don't sound like a twat. "We start the European leg in Cardiff in June, then we go over to the States for the summer."

"So where do you live in between all this jet-setting?"

Well, sir, I have two houses of my own, but I prefer to hang out at my mum's when I have any spare time.

"Well, sort of between Los Angeles and London," is what I actually say. "And I spend as much time as I can with my family in Cheshire."

Her dad nods, and I pick up my fork and bring it to my mouth.

"So where does Jess fit into all this?" Calvin asks, giving me the fakest smile imaginable.

This fork has seen more up and down than Louis' dick recently. And that's a lot.

"Calvin," Jess says from beside me, in a warning tone, and I turn to her, feeling awkward that I am being forced into having this conversation in front of her whole family.

"Well, actually I was wondering if maybe you wanted to come and meet my family tomorrow?" I mutter, feeling a blush creep up my cheeks. "It's fine if you've got plans or something," I say hastily, preparing myself for the rejection. "I appreciate it's sort of short notice, and it's a bank holiday weekend."

"Ooohh, meeting the parents hey?" Calvin coos across the table. "Must be serious."

"That would be great," she beams, and I beam stupidly back at her.

This is just pathetic and embarrassing.

"Great," I breathe. "I can pick you up in the morning and we'll drive up there."

"Wait, where are you staying tonight?" she frowns.

"I'll get my assistant to sort out a hotel or something," I shrug.

I catch sight of Jess's plate. It's half empty. Glancing around the table I notice everyone else's meal is also half eaten. I haven't even started mine - they're going to think I don't like it or something. Fuck.

"No way - Mum, Harry can stay here can't he?" Jess is saying.

"What?!" Calvin snaps, lifting his head and glaring at me. I feel this is a little unfair - it wasn't me who suggested it!

I take the opportunity while everyone is occupied to shove the forkful of food into my mouth. It's stone cold now.

"Of course he can," Martha nods, smiling at me, and I swallow the mouthful without chewing so I can answer her.

"That's really kind of you, Mrs Bradshaw, but I don't want to put you to any trouble," I say, quickly.

"He's not staying here," Calvin says bluntly, and I glance nervously at the other plates again and shove another forkful in my mouth, trying to catch up. This one hasn't been sitting out cooling for five minutes, and sears the inside of my mouth with its burning heat.

I struggle to keep my face impassive as I chew it quickly, ignoring my melting flesh and my watering eyes.

"Oh my God, would you stop?!" Jess snarls at Calvin, banging her fork down on her plate in annoyance. "Don't be so damn rude."

I swallow the molten lava and quickly take a swig of my drink.

"Stop it you two," Martha scolds, looking back and forth between Jess and Calvin. I shovel another huge mouthful in, blowing it gently first to cool it down. "Calvin, don't be so rude," she continues. "Harry is more than welcome here."

"He's not sleeping in her room!" Calvin yells.

I'm glad for the distraction as I race to shove more food in my mouth while no one is paying any attention to me.

"Errr, why not?" Jess is arguing, and I swallow quickly and intervene.

"I really don't want to cause any bother," I begin, but Calvin interrupts me, leaning forward across the table to speak to Jess in a low voice.

"You're not getting up to any funny business," he hisses.

"What funny business?" her dad asks, as if he has supersonic hearing, and my cheeks redden further. I take another huge mouthful, and feel relieved I am now over halfway through my dinner.

Jess argues with Calvin for a minute while I shovel down the rest.

"I'm sure Harry won't mind staying in the spare room," her dad says firmly.

"Of course, that's really very kind of you," I nod seriously, and Calvin narrows his eyes at me while no one is looking.

"I'm sorry for Calvin's disgusting behaviour," Jess whispers to me when the conversation moves on, and I smile affectionately at her and nudge her leg, and tell her it's fine.

The doorbell rings at the end of the meal (by which time I have successfully caught up with everyone and have cleared my plate) and I am relieved to see Calvin standing up to go out.

"Enjoy your date with your boyfriend," Jess says to him, sweetly. "They make such a cute couple," she says to me out of the corner of her mouth, but deliberately loud enough for Calvin to hear.

"I'll be checking on you when I get in later," he threatens, pointing at her. "You'd better be in your bed. ALONE."

"Alright!" she says furiously, and I grin at her feistiness.

Once the plates have been cleared away Jess turns to me.

"So, d'you wanna go out somewhere and talk?" she asks. "Or we could talk here?"

I'd rather stay here, but I don't want her to think I'm trying to hide her away.

"I don't mind," I say carefully. "I guess we'd get more privacy if we stay here? I don't fancy getting hassled while we're trying to sort stuff out."

"I was hoping you'd say that," she smiles. "We can talk through here. It's more private."

She leads me through the kitchen to a glass conservatory overlooking a nice garden with some tall trees at the end and what looks like a fish pond in the corner.

The conservatory is decked out with wicker furniture, with a glass coffee table in the centre of the room. I take a seat on the sofa, and Jess pulls a footstool over to me and perches on it so she is facing me, with only a couple of feet between us.

"I'm sorry," she says, and this takes me by surprise.

"What for?" I ask, frowning at her.

"For everything," she sighs. "I don't even know where to begin. I feel I need to explain all of it; the way I've acted... I've been a pain."

"Yes, I suppose you have," I smile. "But I forget sometimes that this world is completely new to you, and I just expected you to deal with it all like I do."

I feel bad about this. It hadn't really struck me until recently just how different our worlds are. She just fits so beautifully into my life.

"It is kind of terrifying," she nods slowly. "But... I don't owe you excuses. I owe you an explanation."

My heart begins to thud. Suddenly I'm afraid of what she is going to say. And I feel a bit queasy from indigestion, thanks to the unchewed Cottage Pie that is now resting awkwardly in my stomach.

She takes a deep breath and gazes into my eyes. She has never looked more beautiful.

"OK, here goes...."