(No Control - 61. Na Na Na)

"What?" she asks, wrinkling her nose.

I'm too pissed off to think it's cute.

"I said, 'Who's Adam Plan B?'" I repeat, trying really hard to keep calm.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she says bluntly. "What do you mean?"

"You've just had a text," I say, and it comes out in a monotone. "From Adam Plan B. Something about a date?"

I can't remember the exact wording. But some fucking guy who she supposedly didn't sleep with should NOT be talking to my girlfriend about dates, under any circumstances.

"What?!" she says, in dismay. She isn't looking at me - she's staring at her phone in my hand. "What are... " She trails off.

"Ohhhh...," she says, softly, and my heart thumps sickeningly.

She slept with him, didn't she? I don't know if I can listen to this.

I stare down at her and she looks up at me.

Fuck, she's so beautiful.

"Oh God - Harry - this really isn't... this is Callie's doing, honestly...," she begins, stuttering and stammering. "I don't even know this guy... I've never... oh God."

Oh God. I can't find any words to say. I just want to beg her to tell me she didn't sleep with him.

Wait, she doesn't know him?

"OK, the night I drunk dialled you and you hung up on me - the same night I left my phone in the bar - Callie wanted to set me up with one of her boyfriend's mates...."

I knew it. I fucking knew it. I grit my teeth.

"Yes I know. Grimmy said," I interrupt, my voice hard and unforgiving.

I swear to God I won't forgive her for lying to me.

"Yes, so you know that his mate's name was Adam," she says softly, looking deeply into my eyes.

My stomach flutters.

"Well this Adam wasn't there with us that night so Callie put his number in my phone because... because she thought I needed a Plan B in case things didn't work out with us. Me and you."

She hangs her head and sighs.

"I know how callous that sounds," she says apologetically, "but I never had any intention of doing anything with it. It was just easier to humour Callie than to try and argue. I think she was fed up of me moping around over you and wanted me to move on. She knows how I feel about you but she's practical - a realist. She doesn't let her heart rule her head, and she expects everyone else to be the same."

She sounds like she's telling the truth. I want to believe her, but what if she's lying to me?

She touches my arm but I yank it away.

"Harry, come on," she says, looking worried. "Do you honestly think after all this I would be interested in some guy I've never even met, over you? After everything I told you last night?"

I don't fucking know.

"Why is this guy texting you then?" I ask, quickly.

"I honestly don't know!" she says, desperately, and I think I can see the beginnings of tears in her eyes. "He's never texted me before. I can only assume Callie told him to get in touch after the fiasco at the Big Weekend yesterday. But I don't know, I haven't spoken to her properly since I left Norwich. What did the text even say?"

I don't know - I couldn't hack into her phone to read it.

"Something about a date," I mutter.

"What about a date?" she asks, holding her hand out. "Give me my phone."

"I don't know, it was only on the preview screen."

I'm suddenly feeling like I may have overreacted.

She rolls her eyes as I hand her the phone, types her PIN in and then hands it back to me.

"What does the text say?" she asks, looking me squarely in the eye.

I hesitate. I wasn't expecting this. I didn't think she'd be so open about it.

I swallow nervously, slowly realising I have been a bit of a twat.

I read the message silently, and realise I haven't been a bit of a twat at all. I've been a massive twat.

It just says, Hi Jess it's Adam. Just wondering if you fancied coming on a date with me some time? :) xx

"Well?" she asks, folding her arms and looking at me.

I feel myself shrinking beneath her gaze as I read the text aloud.

"Ok," she says. "And are there any other messages before that one? From either me or him?"

No. This is the only one.

"No," I reply, in a small voice.

"Exactly," she says flatly. "So do you believe me now?"

I do, but why didn't she just tell me this guy is interested in her?

I shouldn't ask that. I have no right to ask that. Not after the Taylor Swift fiasco.

"Why didn't you tell me about him?" I ask, and want to facepalm.

"There was nothing to tell!" she says, with more than a touch of frustration. "I'd forgotten all about him! When Callie put his number in my phone I was drunk and miserable - because of you, I might add - " (I cringe a little at this jibe) "and this is the first time I've even remembered it was there."

We stand staring at each other for a moment, and she puts her arms around my waist. I sigh at her touch, and she looks up at me.

"Harry, you can't honestly think I would be texting someone else behind your back," she says gently. "And I don't do fuck buddies. I'm not-"

She stops dead and a flicker of horror passes over her face.

Suddenly I know exactly what she was about to say, and fury rises in me out of nowhere.

"You're not what?" I snap, wrenching her arms away. "You're not me, right?"

"I'm not like that," she corrects, and tries to slide her arms back around my waist, but I pull them off me again, furiously.

"But I am?" I seethe.

"No!" she says, looking like she's on the verge of tears again. "That's not what I meant! I'm just trying to explain that I would never go behind your back. You know how I feel about you, Harry."

Her eyes are pleading, and suddenly we've stepped into new territory and I feel bold and empowered.

"Actually, Jess, I don't," I say, coldly. "You've never told me."

You've never told me you're in love with me, damn it, and I fucking need to hear it, right now more than ever.

"What?!" she squeaks. "I laid myself on the line last night! I told you everything!"

"That was everything?"

I'm being too hard on her, but I can't seem to stop myself.

"Yes! What else could there be?" she asks tearfully. "Apart from this whole stupid Adam thing which isn't even a thing! It's just been blown out of proportion!"

I turn away from her, frustrated with myself for being such a prick to her, and not being able to stop.

"Forget it," I mutter, childishly.

"Forget what?!" she says, raising her voice behind me, but I don't turn round. "You're not making any sense!"

She suddenly reaches towards me and snatches her phone out of my hand, and for a moment I'm terrified she's just going to walk away from me, but I hear furious clicking behind me, and then her voice snaps, "Are you watching this?"

I turn to look at her and she shoves her phone under my nose, and on the screen is a message that says, Hi, thanks for the offer but I've got a boyfriend.

If she's telling people about me does this mean we're going public? It's a bit soon, but maybe it wouldn't be such a bad idea - it could force the paps to back off if we stopped hiding it? It would have been nice to have been consulted, though. This isn't how things work in my world anymore.

I watch as she presses Send on the text, then deletes his number with a flourish.

"Happy now?" she demands, throwing her phone on the bed and folding her arms again.

Yeah, fucking ecstatic, can't you tell?

"Yes," I reply, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

I can't stop being an arsehole. What the hell is wrong with me?

"Oh my God, Harry!" she growls, grabbing her hair in handfuls. "What else is there?! What else could I possibly tell you to make you get it?!"

Tell me you love me, I plead in my head, and for a second I think I've said it out loud by mistake because her whole demeanour changes. Her face drops and her eyes widen.

I definitely didn't say it out loud, but I think she's finally got it.

My anger has dissolved. I just want to hear those words from her, because I think if she says them, I might just say them back.

My heart is pounding.

"Tell me how you feel," I say, softly. "You never have - not... not really."

I stumble over these last couple of words, my nerves getting the better of me.

I know she knows we're talking about the L-word now. I can see the understanding in her eyes.

"I have," she protests, but it's so pathetic even she knows she isn't fooling me. She knows exactly what this conversation has now become about.

"You haven't," I state, stepping forwards and closing the gap between us. Our bodies are almost touching. I can see her heart beating in her chest.

She's told me how she feels about lots of stuff. But she's never said she loves me, and she knows that's what I mean right now.

"Yeah... well... neither have you," she points out.

I can't.

I can't say those words until I know I'm sure.

And until I know I'm going to hear them back.

We gaze into each other's eyes for a minute. I'm hardly daring to breathe.

"I know you do," I whisper.

I'm bluffing. I don't know this at all, but I just want her to be honest with me, and I think she's on the verge. My heart is thudding so loud I think she can probably hear it.

"Jess?" Calvin calls softly from just outside the door, and the moment is gone.

"Not now, Calvin," she says exasperatedly.

"I heard you shouting, are you alright?" he asks, poking his head into the room and giving me a suspicious look.

"Fine," she says, shortly.

"You don't look fine," he persists.

God damn it, Calvin, fuck off.

"I am, I promise," she says firmly.

I sneak a glance at my watch.

"We should get going," I tell her, and I pick up my bag and her phone from the bed.

"What?" she says, uncomprehendingly, as I hand her her phone.

"It'll take a couple of hours to get to my mum's from here," I remind her.

"You don't have to go if you don't want to, Jess," Calvin says quickly.

"Of course I want to," she scoffs. "Calvin, honestly, I'm fine."

I manage to catch her eye once we're downstairs and give her an apologetic smile, which she returns. I feel bad for speaking to her the way I did over that text.

We say goodbye to her parents and I thank them for their hospitality, and then pose for a picture with a red-faced Maddie. The group of fans is still waiting outside, so we dart across the driveway to the garage, throw our bags in the boot and jump into the car, ignoring the hysterical screams.

They film us on their phones as I back the car slowly down the drive, and the last thing I want is my number plate all over Twitter, so as I reach the road I hit the brakes and wind the window down.

"Harry!" they scream, some of them hysterical, some of them sobbing.

"Is that your girlfriend?!"

"Follow me on Twitter!"

"Where are you going?!"

"I love you!"

"Larry is real!" (For fuck's sake.)

"Please don't post my number plate on Twitter," I say politely, and smile into a few cameras before releasing the brake and backing out onto the road.

I can still hear the screaming as we drive off, and in my rear view mirror I see them all hugging each other.

"That'll be all over the internet in minutes," Jess says, and she is leaning forward peering at them in the wing mirror.

"Probably," I agree. "Check your Twitter in a minute and see."

I can't help thinking the speculation would die down if we stopped hiding our relationship from the world. Louis never got hounded as badly when he was with Eleanor.

"I don't follow any of the update accounts anymore," she says, a little uncomfortably. "Not after we fell out."

Oh.

"Didn't you refollow?" I wonder.

"No, I didn't want to generate any more speculation so I thought it best not to," she explains.

Should I bring this up? What would she say if I broached the idea of going public? Not public as in formal announcement, fanfares and pictures on the front of OK Magazine. I was thinking more along the lines of letting the paps get pictures of us out together or something, and then just not denying it.

"I've been thinking about that actually," I say, after a minute.

"About what?"

"About the speculation surrounding me and you," I clarify. "And I can't help but thinking it's where we always go wrong."

"I don't follow."

I can see her head is turned towards me, looking at me, and I glance over at her for a second, before continuing.

"Well, the media leave Liam and Sophia alone, for the most part," I explain. "Same with Zayn and Perrie, except when he was..."

I stop suddenly. I don't want to betray his confidences about what he used to get up to behind Perrie's back. What happens on tour stays on tour. Except when you're me, and the paps find out and print the fucking pictures.

I clear my throat nervously, and hope she doesn't question me.

"And they left Lou and El alone too," I carry on, as if there wasn't just an awkward pause. "Until they split up, and then it went crazy again."

"I don't think I'm ready to talk about Louis and Eleanor yet," Jess declares. "It's still a bit raw."

How is she so funny without intending to be funny? She's so dramatic. I can't help smirking.

"What?" I ask, side-glancing her.

"Never mind," she says, faintly, and I grin. I can tell this is going to be good.

"No, come on, let's hear it," I press.

"Nooooo," she says, in a bratty whine. "It's embarrassing Directioner stuff. It doesn't matter."

"Come on, you're my girlfriend now," I remind her. "You can't keep secrets."

She hesitates for a moment, looking away, but she doesn't realise I can see her reflection in the passenger window. She's got a huge grin on her face, and I suspect it's because I just called her my girlfriend again. Funnily enough, it made my stomach flutter as well.

"It was just a bit traumatic for us when they split, that's all," she says in a rush. "It was so sudden. No one was prepared."

No one was prepared.... Oh God, Directioners are fucking hilarious.

I laugh out loud at this adorable confession, and rest my hand gently on her leg.

"You are funny. It's amazing, having this insight into a Directioner's world," I admit. "I feel like I've got insider info."

"You don't know the half of it," she grins back.

Well, now I want to.

"Sounds intriguing," I prompt, but she doesn't divulge anything else.

"Anyway, what were you saying?" she says, changing the subject.

What was I saying?

Oh yes. Going public.

"When the media know you're in a relationship, they lay off a bit," I say, carefully. "The speculation eases up because they're not all fighting for a story. I'm thinking maybe this is where we've been going wrong. We've attracted so much attention by keeping quiet and it's put a strain on us. Maybe we should... y'know..." I hesitate for a moment.

Just fucking say it.

"Go public?"

I sneak a look at her out of the corner of my eye. She's staring at me with her mouth open. I get the feeling she wasn't expecting this.

"I just think, if you can't beat 'em, join 'em," I add. "And I don't want to be hiding away all the time. I want to show you off, tell the world."

"I JUST WANNA TELL THE WORLD THAT YOU'RE MINE, GIRL!" she sings, and it comes out of nowhere and makes me jump. She makes a drum and cymbal sound and waves her arms around, presumably pretending there is a drumkit in front of her or something.

I stare at her with a completely straight face, taking every ounce of control I have to keep my mouth from twitching, and she laughs in my face.

She's so fucking gorgeous, I could literally kiss her to death.

I shake my head at her in mock disappointment.

"Sorry. You were saying?" she grins.

Does she realise what song she's singing there?

Stupid thought - of course she does. I'll rephrase that.

Does she realise what lyrics come next?

I could have some fun with this.

"Na na na," I tease, waving my finger at her and smirking. "Please. You carry on."

And she fucking takes the bait.

She waves her arms in the air slowly from side to side, and begins the chorus of They Don't Know About Us.

"THEY DON'T KNOW ABOUT THE THINGS WE DO!"

Yep, carry on. Let's see how far you get.

"THEY DON'T KNOW ABOUT... the..."

She stops abruptly and a horrified silence descends. I smirk again.

"Anyway, enough of my shit singing. What were you saying? Public, or something?"

She's suddenly talking really fast, her eyes darting around the car, and waving her hands in front of her face, which is now bright red. She fumbles clumsily with the air conditioning controls on the dashboard, and an icy blast of air fills the car.

"So yeah...," I grin, and decide to let her off - for now. We'll definitely return to this conversation later. "Do you wanna go public? You know. Official."

"At-sign Niall Official," she gabbles, and draws an '@' in the air in front of her.

I'm genuinely lost this time.

"Niall's Twitter username," she says, by way of an explanation. "This is what Directioners do, Harry. Any word that is even vaguely 1D related has to be acknowledged and celebrated. Is it annoying you yet?"

No, it's fucking hilarious!

"It is when I'm trying to have a serious conversation about our relationship," I snap, trying to sound annoyed, but the stupid grin on my face gives me away.

"Well, this is what you get when you date a fan," she shrugs.

"Date," I repeat, derisively. "We're not dating."

"What are we then?" she challenges, and I am momentarily stumped.

I don't know what else to call it, but dating makes it sound like we're just sort of hanging around together every now and again, rather than totally crazy about each other.

"Well I don't know what the word is, but it's not dating," I confirm. "That makes it sound casual."

"Is it..." She hesitates. "Is it not casual?"

"Well..." I hesitate too. "Not for me."

I stare at the car in front of us on the motorway. Its numberplate is wonky.

"It's not for me either," she mumbles quickly and I grin at the road, my stomach fluttering like crazy.

So if she's saying it's not casual, is it serious? Because that's kind of where I'm at with it now. And I'm not suggesting we announce it to the world imminently. But maybe once we've got things properly back on an even keel?

She hasn't actually answered me yet.

"So what do you think?" I ask.

"About what?"

"About going public!" I remind her.

How has she forgotten already?!

"Oh... errr.. I don't really know," she replies. "It's pretty terrifying, to be honest."

Awwww.

"Why?" I ask, and I link fingers with her across the seats.

"For loads of reasons! People will talk about me and write about me and wonder about me."

Yep, welcome to my world.

"They will wonder why you're with me, what you see in me," she says, timidly. "They'll laugh at my Twitter account and send me hate again, worse than what they already do -"

Woah, what?

"You've been getting hate?" I demand.

"Only mild stuff. I haven't looked at it for ages, not since I was in LA with you. You must have seen it - don't you read Twitter?" she asks.

"Well, yeah," I admit. (I'm so used to people commenting on my every move I tend not to read much of it now.) "But I wasn't sure if you'd seen it. You never said anything to me about it so I assumed you hadn't."

"Like I said, I haven't read any mentions for weeks," she says, staring down at her hands. "And before that I didn't see the point in bothering you with it. You have your own shit to deal with."

I can't believe she didn't tell me about this. I can't believe she put my own needs before hers again. I've never met anyone who seems to have my back like Jess does.

"It wouldn't be bothering me," I insist. "You need to tell me stuff like this, be honest with me. That's where we went wrong the last time."

She nods, and stares out of the window for a couple of minutes, seemingly lost in thought.

"So, going public... How would that work?" she asks.

"However you wanted it to," I shrug.

The last thing I want to do is start laying down the law and scare her off.

"I'm not really one for big announcements, though," I add hastily. "We could let the paps see us out together, holding hands and stuff. And next time I do an interview and get asked if I'm in a relationship, I'll be honest."

She's silent for another few minutes, and I don't push her.

"When would this happen?" she asks.

"We'd need to speak to Modest - my management -" I start to explain, but she interrupts me with a sour expression.

"Yeah I know who Modest are."

"Course you do," I grin. "Well we'd need to talk to them first and they'd set out some guidelines, but ultimately it's up to us. Whenever you're ready."

"You've clearly thought about this," she remarks, looking at me with a soft smile on her lips.

"Yeah, I have," I smile at her. "It's what I want. But I understand if it's not what you want."

"We can't hide it for much longer I suppose," she says, reluctantly.

"Well don't sound too eager," I joke, but I know she didn't mean it like that. I can tell by the way she is carefully considering it.

"Sorry - I didn't mean it to sound like that," she's quick to assure me anyway. "It is what I want. I think."

"You don't have to make a snap decision," I say firmly. "Think about it."

"I don't really need to. Of course it's what I want. It's you. You're everything I want."

My stomach flutters madly and I give her a shy and stupid grin, which she returns, and we settle into comfortable silence.

I think about the conversation I would need to have with Karen. I imagine taking Jess out for a date somewhere where the paps will be, and holding her hand as we walk up the steps (I imagine C London for some reason.) I imagine doing an interview (James Corden springs to mind, probably because he's the last one we did and he knows Jess) and being asked "Who out of you boys are single?" and not raising my hand. The thought makes my stomach lurch with happiness.

I look over at Jess as I realise she has been quiet for a while now. She's staring out of the window with a worried look on her face, and continues to do this for another few minutes.

"Are you alright?" I ask eventually. "You've been frowning for about five minutes."

"Just nervous," she mumbles.

"About going public? We don't have to rush into anything," I say softly.

I don't want her to feel pressured into this.

"No, about meeting your family," she says, fidgeting.

"Aww, you don't have to be nervous," I smile. "They're really looking forward to it."

"Does Gemma hate me?" she asks suddenly.

"What?! " I exclaim in surprise. "No! Why would she?"

"Um, because I was an absolute bitch in Norwich?"

I don't know what she's talking about now.

"What do you mean?" I ask.

"Kissing Gary... She must think I'm a right cow."

She won't look at me, and instead stares down at her lap, her face red.

I hesitate for a moment.

"She doesn't know," I say, quietly.

"She followed you when you stormed off!" she protests. "I saw her - I caught her eye when she walked past me."

"Yeah, and she hassled me for ages about why I was angry," I admit. "But I didn't tell her. I couldn't."

"Why not?"

"I didn't want her thinking badly of you," I explain, gently. "I was furious with you but I didn't want her to be furious with you too."

"And your mum...?" she asks tentatively, and then trails off.

"...doesn't know either," I say with a little smile, and she lets out a loud breath.

"I can't believe you kept it from them," she says sadly. "I'm so sorry."

"We've already sorted this out," I reply, shaking my head. "You don't need to apologise again."

"I do, for coming between you and your family."

"I was hoping we'd sort things out," I remind her. "I didn't want it to affect their opinion of you. Even though I was furious with you at the time, I think I knew deep down why you'd done it. You hit me where it hurt." I pause, remembering the sight of her pressing her lips against Gary's, and then quickly push that away. "But let's not go into all that again."

"Sorry for hurting you," she says softly, looking up into my eyes with a remorseful expression. "And thank you for not telling them."

"It's fine," I smile.

Her phone beeps, and she spends a few minutes tapping away, while her phone beeps periodically. I sneak a couple of looks at her, and can see she is grinning.

"What are you grinning at?" I ask.

"Nothing," she says quickly, but her face says otherwise, and she relents and says, "Just a DM from Louis."

I force myself to think back to last night's conversations, and her reassurance that she doesn't feel anything other than fan-feelings towards Louis, and manage to roll my eyes in jest at her.

"The pictures of us in your car are already on Twitter," she informs me.

"No surprise there," I reply. "I just hope they don't realise we're going to Holmes Chapel. It'd be nice to have a couple of days' peace."

She murmurs in agreement.

I can't wait to show Jess around. I can't wait to hang out with her at my mum's house, and chill out doing nothing.

We discuss this weekend, and discover that we are both attending Fleetwood Mac's concert at the O2 Arena in London on Wednesday, and the thought of letting the paps see us there together crosses my mind, but I don't want to suggest it in case she thinks it's too soon.

Instead I settle for asking if I'll get to see her that day, as we'll be in the same place at the same time.

"Probably not on Wednesday, it's girls only," she tells me. "But I don't really have much planned for the rest of the week. I'm sure I can pencil you in somewhere, in between washing my hair and stuff."

I grin at her blatant cheek, and catch her peeking at me out of the corner of her eye.

"Ouch," I grin. "I thought this playing-hard-to-get business would stop after you practically begged to be my girlfriend again."

I peek at her this time.

"Pfft, only because you made me," she fires back.

"I didn't make you last night," I remind her, referring to when she was sitting on top of me practically begging for my dick. "And you were practically on your knees begging."

"As if you just said that!" she protests, as her mouth falls open.

"I notice you're not denying it," I point out.

I love having the upper hand. I can't help but be smug.

"I distinctly remember telling you I wasn't going to beg," she argues, but I'm not having this.

"You may not have said the words, but you were begging," I smirk. "Don't try and tell me you weren't."

"You're asking for it," she warns, and my grin widens at her unfortunate choice of words.

"No," I say, slowly and deliberately so she turns to look at me. "You were asking for it." (I put great emphasis on the 'you.'"

"You fucking loved it," she sasses.

I can't deny it.

"Touché," I smile, with an inclination of my head to concede the point.

We flirt outrageously the rest of the way to Mum's and when we finally pull into the drive, I look over and grin at Jess, only to notice she's turned a pale shade of grey.

"Ready?" I ask.

She swallows nervously. She looks ready to faint.

Out of the corner of my eye I can see Mum peering out the window at us, and her face breaks into a smile. I can't wait for the two of them to meet. It means so much to me to have the people I love all together in one place. This weekend is going to be awesome.

----****----

Long chapter, sorry! I was going to split it but I couldn't find a good place so here it is! Not long now until Harry goes to New York.....