I'm completely caught off guard. Never did I foresee this while walking off the plane. My tension begins to subside but I'm still not sure what he wants from me.

"Don't-don't over think it," he says and sits up to face me. "And don't worry this isn't me trying to sleep with you. . . I just want someone to be . . . with."

I'm flattered and thrown off by his comment. He wants me to be his "girlfriend" but doesn't want to sleep with me . . . okay? Did he already know I would say yes to this because he seems pretty sure of himself. The next thought that floods my mind is if he wants me to stay over. That's what girlfriends do right? Why else would he say this at one in the morning.

"What you thinkin' about?" he asks, leaning his head to the side.

"Umm, I'm thinking this is very strange . . . I just flew in early this afternoon and this is my first night in London . . . in some guy's apartment."

"It doesn't sound that crazy . . . does it?" he smiles cheekily.

"Just a little crazy . . . a little smudge," I smile back.

"A smudge?" he looks down and chuckles. "Do you feel uncomfortable? Do you want me to take you back to your hotel?"

"I do and I don't . . . I just don't know what you want me to do really."

"How about relax and hang out I guess . . . and if you want to cuddle, I'm open to that too," his dimples twinkle.

"Oh, but we hardly know each other. I don't know what things you like and don't like," I say picking at my nails, I can't believe I'm even considering this.

"We'll learn from each other," he gets up and snatches the remote from the small coffee table before sitting back down. "Just bring more comfortable clothes next time."

"Next time, huh?"

Harry shrugs with a cunning grin as he turns on the television. Laying back down on my lap, his broad shoulders make my thighs look so small. Its weird how comfortable he is with this idea. I still don't know how to begin to act like a girlfriend, its been so long. I watch his left arm disappear around my back, latched around my waist. Taking a deep breath, I let my hands make their way to his brown curls.

His mouth curves at the corner while I'm playing with his hair. Studying the texture, its baby soft, and the shades of brown have subtle blonde strands in them. The more I play the more it eases me and I begin to think "next time". As much as I want to hangout here with this beautiful person, I also long for my own bed. The soft pillows and heavenly clean sheets are calling me all the way from my room.

"Do you feel comfortable now?" he turns to look at me and the air in my lungs . . . gone.

"I'm starting to."

"Good, we should all ride together to the concert. I can pick you up with Lou and we can get your other friend, Linda? But not Jack," he laughs quietly.

"You are too much."

Harry releases his grip from around my back and holds my hand upon his chest again. I hear his heart pound a little faster and I know its matching mine. I feel that tickle from within that tells me a kiss is near, but I know that's just me playing tricks again.

"I should get back." Wait no, I don't really want to go! I'm just trying to get out of the awkwardness.

Too late. Harry jumps up and turns off the TV. Damn it! Why did I open my mouth? We walk out to the main room and Lou is no longer there. I slip into my shoes and when I turn around he already has his boots on with the keys in his hand. I get the impression he is disappointed by my desire to leave and maybe there won't be a next time.

The drive is quiet but pleasant. I enjoy the British radio stations and Harry doesn't seem to mind me changing from one to the next. Finally he pulls up to the entrance and I'm hesitant to leave but need to be assertive.

"Thank you," I say politely and climb out of his car.

"Hey, Jude. . ." I look inside the minute he calls my name. "Don't forget to wear something comfortable," he smiles.

I nod again and bite my bottom lip to keep from smiling so evidently. The rest is pretty much a blur.

---

I wake up to a text from my parents and respond right away. A minute later I get another text and think they must be near their phone but it isn't them. Instead its a new number asking me if I'm up yet.

Just woke up. . . who is this? -J

I hit send and hear a response right away.

It's barely been a couple of hours. . .

My eyes widen and my heart flutters. What? Why is my heart doing this? How am I becoming one of THOSE girls, like putty in his hands?

Of course I remember you. . . what I don't remember is giving you my number. -J

My phone chimes again.

Yeah . . . want to get some breakfast?

I look at my clock and see its close to noon . . . did he mean lunch?

Sure, LUNCH sounds good. Lol. -J

Great, how long will you take? And what room are you in?

Room I'm in? Ummm.

106. I'll be at least 20 minutes. -J

He doesn't respond but I'm already hopping in the shower. I quickly blow dry my hair, make my bed and lay out my clothes. Deciding on a beige slim fit dress with a thin black belt high on the waist and my black flats, I know its perfection. My hair is straight in a ponytail and I'm about to apply some eyeliner when I hear a knock at the door.

When I peep through the hole I see no one. There's another knock followed by a raspy lady yelling "housekeeping." I shout back no thank you but she knocks again. I hate to be yelling back and forth so I open the door only to be greeted by boots and long denim legs. Harry is there with the cheesiest grin and lifts the sleeve to his light sweater so I can see his watch.

"Twenty minutes."

I have no choice but to let him in as I am not done yet. My heart is stirred by my visitor and the fact that the bed is only a few feet away . . . not that we'd be in it.

"You're not wearin' that for the concert are you?" he asks but before I can respond he's already looking through my closet.

"I was . . . planning to."

"How old are you again?"

"21," I swallow.

"Then dress like it. We are goin' to a concert not an opera," just then he throws my pair of jeans on the bed and takes out my black tank top. I guess I can wear that with my black flats instead.

"Where are we going to eat?" I ask paralyzed. Should I change now?

"I know a cool place. . . I hope you don't think I'm bein' rude. I really do like the way you dress, that's what caught my attention last night. It just would pain me to see you so rigid when you should be enjoyin' yourself, carefree!"

He made sense. I grab the clothes off the bed and head to the bathroom to change. I look in my toiletry bag and find some silver hoops to go with the transformation and step out for the final verdict.

"There, much better. Now you look like you're ready for some fun. Wait . . ." Harry already sees his beanie on my night table.

He approaches me and frowns. Stepping to the side, he puts the beanie under his chin and releases my hair tie. Then he slides it on, this time styling my bangs to the side for me.

"As cute as a button," his boyish charm resurfaces. Did he just seriously pick out my outfit? "Lou will love you!"

I wish I could say that I remember my whole reason for coming to London, my excitement for this concert and the English soil. But there was something about Harry that made it all seem duller in comparison. After we grabbed a quick bite to eat, I never thought a sandwich could taste so amazing, we pick up our friends.

The bands were phenomenal but the company was . . . exhilarating. Being in public presented a challenge for Harry's imaginary plan, yet his eyes said more with every glance. His hair was held back with a rolled up bandanna and his sleeveless shirt had the well-known silhouette of the Beatles walking down Abbey street behind one another. He tells me I need to dress more comfortably but seriously how does he move around in those skin tight jeans? Sure enough, he catches me staring at his lower half, teasing me by licking his lips and smiling. He will not fail to mention this later.

Lou compliments my look, just like Harry said she would, and before I know it she offers to give me a tour tomorrow and maybe do some shopping. I fear she may think that I want to dress like this now . . . which is not entirely true or false.

Every once in a while I catch Harry typing on his phone, as curious as I am, I warn myself not to demand too much. Instead I scroll on my twitter and soon enough I feel someone's hip bumping into mine.

"Do you still want to come over tonight, after the concert?" I delay my answer and look back at my phone screen. "Please?" he insists.

His voice is so raspy, no wonder girls can't say no. I look over and a smile escapes me, he's biting down on his lip and his eyes are a shocking green. Was he sure about not wanting to sleep together? Ugh!

We arrive at Harry's place around ten at night, but Lou quickly takes off to her friend's house, her daughter is spending the night there. Then its just Harry and I . . . oh and Niall with some girl in the living room. We disappear into the other side of the house, his private domain, and he politely asks if I'm hungry. I kind of am. Grabbing my hand, he turns around back into the kitchen with me tip toeing behind him.

Amazed by how he can easily play the boyfriend role, I adjust to my part. His fingers are long, they cover my whole hand, yet they feel soft and warm. He takes a plate out and fills it with crackers, cheese, an apple and two bananas. Quite the snack selection. He carefully places a knife on the plate and continues to the room, all this single handed!

He has such a cute smirk that I can't bear to ruin it by asking for water too. Though Harry is in such a good mood that he bows and comes back with two glasses of water shortly. God he would be an awesome boyfriend.

"Why are you in such a good mood?" I ask taking off my flats to raise my knees to my chest.

Harry joins me on the couch with the remote in his hand and responds with, "I thought it was obvious."

"Gaw, I love your accent! There I said it," I blurt out and laugh.

"Yea? Maybe we should talk more then," he sets the remote down and reaches for a banana.

I keep smiling as he peels and takes bite after bite, moving the pieces around in his cheeks, reminding me of that cute monkey that shared his orange with me yesterday. And then I think, I wish I was that banana.

"Excuse me?" he asks with his mouthful. Wait, did I say that aloud?

"I didn't say anything," I shake my head unsure.

After he swallows, he clears his throat, "You said "I wish I was that banana" at least that is what it sounded like."

He's so mean! Why would he embarrass me like that? My cheeks are burning up, turning from pink to red most likely.

"Can I lay on your lap again?"

I glance at him with no strength to deny such a request. He lays on his stomach and wraps one arm around my lower back again, like his comfort pillow, and his other is holds the remote. It feels nice to hold someone again, being single can be such a drag. I'm using him as much as he is using me, which makes it all seem fair. I can feel the warmth of his cheek pressed on my thigh; even sense when he is smiling.

My hands are in his hair, massaging his scalp. I hear a moan or two and shrivel up both times.

"Why are you single?" his voice is muffled against my thigh.

"Huh?"

"I can't understand how you are single?" Harry elaborates.

"I should be asking you the same question."

"Okay, I understand now," his body shakes a little as he laughs.

"No tell me, why aren't YOU seeing anyone?"

"It gets so busy you know, we are never in one place long enough. . . some of the lads are in solid relationships and I'm happy for them. They can do it . . . but I can't."

I want to tell him my story, however he gets up again and I'm left watching his next move. He grabs a small pillow at the other end of the couch and grabs my feet by the ankles to lift onto the cushion. Its interesting how he puppeteers my body around, confident that I won't object. After placing the pillow on my lap, he somehow slithers in between my legs, resting his head on the padded area. Its nice to have my legs in a different position, we'll see how long it takes till they go numb this time.

I'm trying to focus in on this movie, its based on a true story about a soccer team in South Africa. Morgan Freeman and Matt Damon are both in it, so I know it has to be good. But its pretty hard to forget that I have Harry in between my legs, and I'm supposed to act cool and not desire him?

"Have you seen this movie before?" I interrupt, missing the sound of his voice.

"Yea."

I start to ask myself if this was his idea of cuddling or if I should engage it. Don't get me wrong, this is wonderful, but I have a craving for him that none of these snacks are going to satisfy.

"Are you aright? Do you want to watch somethin' else?" he glances up at me.

I try to stop myself from thinking such naughty things but my chest is already rising rapidly. He doesn't say anything but his facial expression makes me worry; I might have given him "the look". He then sits up to rest on his knees. I thought my desperate eyes would scare him, but he is crawling closer to me.

Staring at the screen I insist, "I'm fine watching this mov-" but Harry cuts me off . . .with his lips on mine.

I feel him pull up closer, knees between my legs. His hand races to my waist and the other holds my face. My reaction is late but I finally kiss him back. His lips are so full and smooth, I didn't know he'd be such a great kisser . . . I sorta knew. When he divides my mouth with his tongue I let out a weak moan, feeling him smile against my aching lips. I want him to continue but he pulls back.

"Are you okay with this? I know I said we'd just hang out . . . but you were driving me crazy."

His confession makes my stomach and chest somersault. His voice is like wine that both soothes and intoxicates. I gaze at him longingly and nod, feeling his lips come back to me. My hands are sinking in his curls and he manages to slide me down by pulling at my waist, laying completely on top of me. Harry kisses me deeply, passionately and most definitely like a boyfriend would to his girl.

My hips instinctively press up when I feel his groin skim the surface of mine, it is a relief to feel his excitement. I know that he desires me enough to sleep with me now, restoring my ego. Then my feet play along, crawling up his legs till my thighs are wrapped around him. Regardless of all the clothes we have on, he feels amazing just rocking me. I want more, who wouldn't, but staying like this seems safer.

"I love how you smell," Harry says into my neck.

I respond with a giggle, too busy controlling my breath. "Harry, I need a moment."

What? Why on earth would I say that?! My body gets cold when he practically lunges himself across the other end of the couch. His chest is breathing so heavily and I'm afraid I might have ruined the momentum. Perhaps I wanted to have a little more control and not have him run the show. His lips are bloody red and his stare is hungry and dark. I have to get back to him.

It's my turn to crawl over, climb on top of his lap and claim dominance. He likes this, I can tell by his lustful grin; dimples glaring at me. I kiss both of them first and go down his neck. I feel the roar of the crowd of millions of girls living their fantasy through me. One by one I hear their wishes and pleas, it ignites me to think I have this man underneath, open to do whatever. No judging or telling anyone, its our secret. In that case, what's holding me back?

Notes