“Under the lights tonight, you turned around and you stole my heart, with just one look, when I saw your face, I fell in love, it took a minute girl, to steal my heart tonight,” – Stole My Heart

FEBRUARY 14. 2012

12:00 P.M.

Harry glanced at himself in the mirror, tugging at his lapel and running his hand down the fabric of the jacket. He'd paired it with dark denim jeans and a t-shirt. He thought about the contest and gave a quick thanks be to God he hadn't a thing to do with picking the winner. The contest in question: “Win A Date With Harry Styles” shattered records for the sheer number of girls entering. It was mind-blowing, really. His recent popularity hadn't gone unnoticed but it didn't make it any less surreal. He gave himself a final once over and headed out to make one girl’s dream come true.

            Maneuvering his car into the lot, Harry smiled at the prospect of giving her a day she'd never forget. They were always grateful for their fans. Doing things like this was a small way to show it. Shawn, one of their PR people was the only one he saw. Harry hoped he hadn’t missed something. The prospect of taking Shawn out for the day didn't have much appeal.

            He approached with his hands shoved in his pockets and smiled. “God help me if you’re my date.”

            “You should be so lucky.”

            Shawn stepped to the side and as he did, Harry's breath hitched in his chest. His jaw ticked, issuing a warning to him that he'd better not let it drop. A bombshell of a girl stepped shyly forward and held her hand up in a small wave. Her voice was hardly a whisper. “Hi, Harry.”

            This was not at all what he expected. She was not at all what he expected. He blinked. “Em, hi,” he said. “What's your name, love?”

            “Grace.”

            Her face flushed with color. He couldn't imagine why, with a name as lovely as hers. Okay, so maybe she was intimidated by the entire situation. Not like he could blame her. In one year, he'd gone from Harry Styles, a boy from Cheshire, England, to Harry Styles, the guy who couldn't go anywhere without someone offering their hand in marriage or to bear his children. Yep. He'd be a little timid were he in her shoes.

            He cleared his thoughts and offered his hand. “Gorgeous Grace. Shall we get on with it then?”

            She giggled. “I'd like that.”

            “Here.” Shawn shoved a handful of flashcards at Harry. “Go in order start to finish.”

            “What's this?” Harry asked.

            “I don't know. Your date, I think.”

            “A date on flashcards.” He waved them at Shawn. “Glad to see there is so much faith in me to show a girl a good time.”

            Shawn rolled his eyes. “Don't shoot the messenger. I didn't plan your date.”

            “Who did?” Harry shouted behind him.

            Shawn ignored him, then shrugged but kept walking.

            “Right,” Harry said, turning to Grace. “Okay, well card number one says: Tell your date one thing you would never eat. For the record my answer is sushi.”

            “Mine's habanero peppers.” Grace said.

            “Now we're supposed to drive to this address and eat. And so help me God if we're going for sushi with habanero peppers someone is in a world of trouble.”

            Grace laughed and when she did her entire body seemed to ease up. Good. She'd be far better company if she could relax and enjoy herself a little.

            It was next to impossible to keep his eyes on the road. He made a mental note to thank whoever chose the winning entrant, be it management, the Universe, or God. “You seem nervous, Grace.”

            She wrung her hands in her lap as a frustrated sigh escaped, “I'm really nervous. Didn't sleep a wink last night.”

            “There’s nothing to be nervous about. Besides, if anyone should have a complex about this entire thing, it’s me. First I get flashcards for my date like I’m too incompetent to think of one on my own and now I make the girl I’m with uneasy. Tell you what, you be yourself, I’ll ditch my rampant insecurities about Shawn’s lack of faith in my dating ability and we’ll get on just fine. I’m sure of it.”

            She smiled but it wasn’t forced or out of habit. It was genuine. He found himself mirroring her, thinking he quite liked her smile.

            When they pulled up to the restaurant, he opened her door, helped her out of the car and draped his arm across her shoulder. “I’m not sure about you but I am starving.”

As they walked through the door, Grace looked like she was about to respond but upon entering she was distracted by the hostess who handed them blindfolds. Grace turned toward him, looking mortified. “Is this a date or a kidnapping?”

            Clever girl. Quick witted. He liked it. He liked her. “Dining in the dark,” he explained. “By depriving us one of our senses, it heightens the ones that remain. Brilliant, really.”

            “I have a hard enough time finding my mouth in the daylight.”

            His eyes darted to her lips and he smirked. “I’m sure I can help you find it.”

            “Wow, you really are a hopeless flirt, Harry.”

            He tied her blindfold. “Are you objecting?”

            She placed her hands on her hips matter-of-factly before saying, “Not while I still have a pulse.”

            “Good answer.” He wrapped his hand around her wrist which formed a human chain with their hostess, who would lead them to their table, given that they were now blind. Grace's pulse throbbed like a drum underneath his fingertips and he couldn't help himself. “Grace?”

            “Yeah?”

            “You still very much have a pulse.”

            As they made their way into the darkness, she was still laughing.

            Harry was really good at blind eating or feeding, whichever the case may be, Grace: not so much. He was certain there were remnants of whatever she'd ordered on his cheek, on his forehead, possibly in his hair. He said so and the two had a laughing fit that he was sure was disrupting the other patrons. The last year had taught him one thing: good things could happen fast. Whirlwind fast. He'd learned not to question it.

            When they got outside, he pulled out another card, wiping at his eyes which were burning due to deprivation followed by reintroduction to the light. “Okay, card number two has an address for a department store. It says we're supposed to pick each other’s attire for our next stop. Dress casual.” Harry shrugged, pocketed the card, and held her door open. She was grinning from ear to ear. “Something funny?”         

            She shook her head. “No, this is just a lot more fun than I thought it would be.”

            He gave her a wink. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

            “I didn't mean it like that,” Grace said. “I wasn't really sure what you'd be like. It doesn't feel like you have to be here, almost like you want to be.”

            “I do want to be here,” Harry said. “I'm having a good time too.”

            In the department store, he carefully selected Grace's wardrobe. She'd shown up in a denim skirt and an orange t-shirt. Cute enough, but he had no idea what their next stop was, so he opted to put her in jeans and some flowered top thing that caused her eyes to light up when they first walked in. He was clothed in even darker denim and a royal blue t-shirt because it was her 'favorite' color.

            She twirled in the mirror and as she did, Harry shaped his fingers like a camera and mock took her photo. She struck pose after pose and they were laughing so much, he almost lost track of time. That and he realized he could pass a lot of time just looking at her. “Alright then, it says to tell your date something that you love to do.” He looked at her expectantly.

            “I love dancing,” Grace said.

            “I love singing but you probably already knew that. I quite like cooking.” Harry flipped through the stack of cards bored by their suggestions. He selected the important cards and tossed the rest in the trash can. “C'mon Grace,” he held out his arm, “let's lose the flashcards and make our own adventure.”

            She linked her arm through his. “Harry Styles, you are not what I expected.”

            He stopped walking and turned to face her. “Grace I-dunno-your-last-name, that makes two of us.”

            “Last name is Westerly.”

            “Grace Westerly,” he repeated. “Has a nice ring to it.”

            He drove to the beach. Crews were there to set up for the show that night, but a huge bonus of being one of the stars was exclusive access to the venue. He'd spent enough time on this beach to know the ins and outs. He led her to a secluded spot overlooking the ocean.

            “Wow. So pretty,” she said.

            Harry couldn’t have cared less about how pretty the scenic view was, his own was better.

            She smiled. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

            “Like what?”

            “Like this,” she narrowed her eyes and gave him the once over.

            He laughed. “I'm not looking at you like anything, least of all like that. You look like you're about to kill me.”

            Her mouth dropped in false horror. “I’ll have you know that is my flirty face. It’s been practiced countless times in front of my mirror at home.”

            Harry snickered. “Forgive me for raining on your parade but I think it needs a little work.”

            “How’s this?” She stuck her lips out in a pout and lidded her eyes, just enough to achieve the look she was going for which evidently was identical to the last one.

            “Here,” he said. “Let me help you.” He brought his hand to the side of her face and ran his thumb along her lips until she smiled. Then he rested his forehead against hers so her eyes widened instinctively. “There. That is how you look the most beautiful.”

            “But that's me normally,” she objected.

            “That's the point,” he said.

            “So,” she said, clearly avoiding the subject. “Why'd we come here?”

            “You love to dance, right. Figured it was a good idea.”

            “You want to dance with me?”

            “Well,” he opened his arms, “since you asked...”

            She stepped forward and wrapped her fingers in his hand. “You're hopeless.”

            “You like it,” he said. He felt like they were kids with the distance she was putting between them. He gave a good pull until she was flush against him.

            “I like you,” she said.

            They started dancing and when Grace looked up at him, he thought if an earthquake swallowed them both whole, he'd be lucky she was the last thing he saw. A bigger part of him tried to argue with himself. Wasn't this a bit ridiculous?

            “Do you believe in love at first sight?” he asked her. He wasn't sure what in God's name he was thinking, he'd just met her. But he knew he had to know her.

            “I don't know,” she admitted. “Infatuation at first sight, sure, the jury's still out on the love part.”

            After their dance was over, Harry pulled out the last card he had, the most important one of the bunch. “Give your date a goodnight kiss,” he said.

            He looked at her seeking permission to continue. A deep blush flooded her face and her bottom lip parted from the top one as she nodded. He kissed her softly and whispered, “well then, at least those flashcards were good for something.”

            It was dark by the time he dropped her off at home. His eyes settled on the first star he saw and wished that this was not the last he’d see of Grace. “You know something?”          

            “I know lots of things but probably not whatever it is you’re going to tell me,” she said.  

            “There's going to be thousands of girls at the show tonight and I feel like you're the only one I'm going to see.” With that, before it got any harder than it already was, Harry turned around and walked away.

            “Harry Styles,” she shouted after him.

            He turned.

            “Maybe love at first sight does exist.”

            Harry gave a tip of a pretend hat. The last thing he expected from today was for his own dream to come true.