Blue
Twenty
One Direction Exclusive! The boys finished out the first leg of their On The Road Again tour in Dubai last week and partied poolside at the Ritz-Carlton Dubai into the early hours of the morning. Louis, Harry, Niall, and Liam threw a major bash with food, tons of alcohol, and beautiful girls from all over the world. They’ll be on break for a month before picking up the tour in Europe.
Cameras caught Harry Styles and girlfriend Laney Lee cuddling and kissing beside the pool and, despite all the gorgeous girls around them, Harry’s eyes were only on his beautiful blue-haired girl. Our sources reveal that Laney was only supposed to stay with the tour for a few days, but couldn’t bear to leave him. “Laney flew to Tokyo to stay with Harry for a week or so, but once they were together, they didn’t want to even think about her flying back to the States. He loves having her there with him. Her going home wasn’t even an option.”
But Harry and Laney aren’t joined at the hip. Our source said, “They’re comfortable enough with their relationship that she goes out with Lou Teasdale and Sophia Smith or, when they were in London, she was out shopping with Harry’s sister, Gemma.”
Are there wedding bells in the future for Harry and Laney? One thing is for sure, they are completely committed to each other. “They’re young, but they’re in love. Harry has never felt like this for any girl before, he adores Laney. But they don’t need a piece of paper to prove they love each other. Right now they’re just focused on spending as much time together as possible and having fun.”
Turn the page for more exclusive pictures of Harry and Laney in Dubai!
I tossed the magazine into the nearest garbage can. Stupid. I wanted to throat punch whoever the source was. I mean, it wasn’t like this person was spreading lies or something. It was all true. Even the marriage part—we’d never actually sat down and had serious conversations about getting married or anything. We talked about being together for the rest of our lives…so…I guess being married was implied? Whatever. We weren’t like that. There was never some kind of magical moment, even when we first got together, where he formally asked me to be his girlfriend or something. Everything just kind of happened. And that was okay—I just loved being with him. Every minute, every dimple dotted smile of his; that was what mattered.
Harry pushed through the shop door and handed me an iced coffee. He kissed my cheek. “Ready?”
I nodded, taking a sip of coffee. Delicious. “I’d be happy just going to a vintage boutique or something, Hazza. This body is not excited by designer clothes.”
“Your body excites me, though. And, yes, you’re getting designer. It’s the Billboard Music Awards which, although is not the Grammys, is still exciting. Right? I’m going to pop your awards show cherry.” He guided me down the street, flipping his sunglasses down over his eyes. “At least tell me you’re a little bit excited? Maybe?”
“Well, I’m excited to take my awkwardness on a red carpet tour. Sophia and I are making a list of selfies we need to take throughout the night since, you know, she and I are being quarantined from you guys like we have the plague or something. Which, side note, have you seen Monty Python’s ‘Spamalot?’ I’ve been saying chercher la vashe all day and I just…okay, stop looking at me like that. You knew I was weird when we hooked up.”
He was laughing, his smile broad and knee weakeningly adorable. “Chercher la vashe?”
“It’s French for ‘fetch the cows.’”
“I am not in the least bit surprised you would know that in French.”
“Right? Because, I’ll be honest, I took like three years of French in high school and I legit can only remember things like, ‘trouver la fromage’ for ‘find the cheese’ and ‘il a été giflé par un poisson’ which is ‘he was slapped by a fish.’ I can conjugate irregular verbs too, which I’ll admit, is super hot.”
He kept laughing, draping his arm around me. “You had me at chercher la vache.”
“I’ll be absolutely useless in France, I’m just warning you now.”
As we walked towards the designer’s studio, I could see paparazzi on the opposite side of the street. It was just one guy, short and squat, and he was snapping picture after picture of us. I knew Harry saw them too: his hand tightened on my arm and he seemed to tug me closer. He was so protective. I told him I was coiled steel and shove a camera into some asshole’s face just as good as 1980s Sean Penn, but secretly I loved it. He was so adorable and sweet to me.
He wasn’t looking particularly sweet at that moment. “Just once, I want to take you around town and not be bothered.”
“It’s just because I’m majestic. They can’t get enough.”
“Well, I certainly can’t.”
We kept walking, our eyes focused on each other or on the ground in front of us. He had to stop four times to sign autographs, but finally we got to the designer’s shop.
Complete with guard at the door.
Sweet.
I realized he’d brought me to Chanel. The boutique was opulent and exquisite, with huge crystal chandeliers and what looked like mother of pearl capped pillars bordering the store. Store, ha, it was like a giant empty room with like, one shoe and a purse on display. Oh, and a wallet that was probably more expensive than a month’s rent back home.
“Harry Styles, aren’t you adorable!” a tall, painfully thin woman with a perfect bob haircut strolled out from an office, extending her hand to him. “And is this Miss Laney?”
“It is.” Harry guided me forward, smiling at me. “Laney love, this is Melinda. She runs this shop and, she set Sophia up with several brilliant gowns over the past few years. She’s the best.”
She was studying me, her eyebrow cocked up quizzically. “I’ve got about ten dresses that will fit your style perfectly. What are you, a size two?”
“Uhhh….not in the stores I shop at.”
“We’ll measure you.” She linked her arm around mine and started pulling me towards the back. “Lydia? Lydia, dear, get Harry some water and scones. If we don’t have any, go next door and buy some. I mean it, Lydia. I don’t pay you to sit there and look at Facebook all day.”
It took nearly two hours—two hours!—to pick out a stupid dress. It was Harry’s favorite from the start, but Melinda insisted we go through piles and piles of Chanel dresses. She fawned over me and, I suppose, it should have been flattering or something, but I was so damn awkward with my blue hair and tattoos and general dislike of couture. The dress we picked, though had a vintage feel to it. It was a white dress with large blue and purple paisleys on it, super short to show off my legs, but with ties around my neck revealing very little boobage. That was the way to rock it: show off legs, no cleavage. Show of mountains of boob, show less leg. I think I learned that watching America’s Next Top Model. Or maybe from my grandma. Whatever.
Once we picked out a pair of white platform shoes with silk laces that wrapped up and around my ankle, tying in a bow in the front, Melinda wrapped them in posh white boxes and totaled everything up and a chic, silver computer. “You are going to knock them dead at the awards ceremony, pretty girl. That dress looks like it was designed with your style in mind.” She pressed a few keys and then looked up expectantly. “And it’s practically a steal at $2,794.69.”
I stared at her. What. It was…..wait. That was the dollar amount? I didn’t have that much money to pay for a dress and shoes.
Harry, however, hadn’t even flinched. He pulled out his wallet and slid his credit card across the desk. “I, for one, won’t be able to keep my eyes off of you.”
I smiled at him, nervously running my fingers through my hair. Jesus, that was a lot of money. He didn’t even flinch.
The dress and shoes now paid for, Harry scooped up the boxes and led me to the door. “Thank you, Melinda.”
“Anytime, dear.”
The door was barely closed behind us when I nudged him with my hip. “Hazza. You should have just let me go to the mall and buy something. That was insane. For a dress? And shoes?”
“A dress you look amazing in. And you have to have amazing shoes to go with an amazing dress. Besides, I want you to have it. I love the way you look wearing and, honestly, you don’t let me spoil you nearly as much as I want to.”
He carried the boxes under one arm and cradled me with the other, first squeezing me around my hips and then lacing my fingers around his. We walked in a comfortable silence for all of then seconds, before a pap strolled up behind us. “Hey, Harry, did you spend some time looking at wedding dresses with her?”
Harry remained silent. He quickened his pace, his jaw set in an exquisite, but firm line.
The man kept pressing him for information. “What do you think of Zayn and Perrie breaking up? Are you worried that’s going to happen with you guys? Is that why you haven’t gotten married yet.”
Ew, it was just gross. It felt very intrusive, like they’d just invited themselves into an already overcrowded elevator. The whole situation made me feel nervous—not that I didn’t think Harry would protect me, but he just flat out looked upset. The last thing I wanted him to say was something that would get him into trouble. I guess that left it up to me to trip that pap.
Haha, I wished.
“Laney, love the blue hair. You’re gorgeous.”
Ehhhhh.
“Do you dye it yourself or do you go to a salon? There probably blocks worth of salons in LA that would love to do your hair for you.”
Well….okay, weird.
“Harry, do you like the blue hair?”
Harry draped his arm over my shoulders, guiding me down a cross street and away from the paparazzi. The camera was flashing and the man kept hounding him with questions, repeating them over and over as if somehow the continual hounding was going to make him answer. My heart was pounding in my chest. Jesus. All he’d wanted to do was stroll down the street and this happens. It was bullshit.
Harry put his hand against my head and tucked me against him. He put his head down to my ear and said, “I’ll get you out of this. I’m sorry, baby.”
He changed direction and guided me down a different street. A few girls, probably our age or a little younger, were standing outside a frilly looking boutique. One stuck her middle finger up at the camera man. “Leave them the fuck alone! They don’t want to be bothered everyday of their lives. Jesus!”
Another girl called after us. “We love you, Laney! You two are adorable together!”
Harry remained quiet. He pulled me up a staircase and into a store, letting the door shut behind us. An older blonde saleswoman looked startled, but then seemed to recognize who he was. “Paparazzi trouble?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Well, while you’re here, do you want to look around?”
“I have to make a call first.” He was talking more to me than to her and pulled out his cell, tapping his finger against the cell face. “I’m just gonna call Paul and have him come get us. Ridiculous having to call for a ride back to the car, absolutely ridiculous.”
I wandered around the first row of cases, idly looked at pearls and opals, emeralds and rubies. Glancing at a simple sterling bracelet, I leaned over to check the price tag. Five hundred bucks.
Nope. Moving on.
I glanced at a display of sapphire rings. From behind, Harry slid his arms around my waist and rested his chin on my shoulder. His breath was hot in my ear. “We could always look at diamonds.”
My heart leapt in my chest. Diamonds. Weddings. Becoming Mrs. Styles—fuck, that was like, the absolutely best way this shit day could go. Keep it together. “That’s like, surprise jewelry, Hazza. You hide diamonds in baked potatoes or the bottoms of champagne glasses.”
“Baked…potatoes?”
“Obviously, just a suggestion. Anyway,” I turned my head slightly and nuzzled against him, “that’s all on you, sexy man. I have nothing to do with it.”
“You could tell me what cut you like.” There he went again, being all sexy and smoldering and seductive, mentioning engagement rings. Nope. Nope, not even going to start dreaming about that. We were good the way we were. At least, I felt better thinking that and not getting my hopes up.
“Hazza. I’m fairly sure I’ve yet to meet a diamond I didn’t like.”
He planted a kiss on my neck and then pulled me forward, scanning the case of rings with obvious interest. I trailed along behind him, staring at all the glittering, perfect diamond rings in the case. Jesus. Some of these stones probably cost more than my car. I bet the sales people could smell the poor on me.
I glanced over a case of blue diamond jewelry, eyeing up a few pretty sterling and diamond bracelets. They were so pretty and soooo expensive. I remembered reading Sweet Valley High books when I was a kid, well-worn paperbacks my cousin Debi passed down to me, and the ultimate sign of affection was a diamond tennis bracelet. Hot damn. Put that in your Teen People or whatever.
“What about that one?” Harry tapped his finger to the top of the case.
“Wait, what are you looking at?” His finger was much higher up than the display of bracelets. He was still looking at rings.
He cocked his head to one of the salesmen. “Can you show her that ring? The blue diamond…no, that one. Yeah.”
The salesman—his name tag read Derek—unlocked the case and pulled out a huge blue diamond ring. “Excellent choice, sir. This is one of our best cut blue diamonds.”
He handed it to Harry.
Harry picked up my right hand—he did it specifically, as if making a point this wasn’t going on the all-important finger—and slid the ring on my finger. It made me shiver. Even though it was the wrong hand and we were just hanging out in a jewelry store, it made my breath catch in my throat. The ring was gorgeous, a huge blue stone with smaller white diamonds flanking it on either side. It actually fit me perfectly. I could feel my hand shaking slightly, both from the faux-enormity of him putting a ring on my (wrong) finger and from how exquisite the ring was. “It's beautiful.”
“The total size is almost two carats, I think this particular one is 1.98 carats. The center stone is a 1.5 carat brilliant cut blue diamond, nearly flawless. The band is 18k white gold, but can be switched out if you prefer platinum or 14k gold. The white diamonds are just under half carat each. It’s a gorgeous piece. And, I might add, it looks dazzling on your hand.”
Harry cradled my hand in his, tracing my knuckles with his fingertip. I could tell he was staring at the ring and thinking, his brow furrowed in thought. After several moments of silence, he said, “Do you like it, Laney love?”
I swallowed hard. “I mean, yeah, I love it, but Hazza.” I felt heat raise in my cheeks. “How much is it?”
The salesman didn’t even flinch. “This particular piece is $5,980.”
Ehhhhhh…..
Harry kept staring at my finger, his own gently curling around my hand. “This looks stunning on you, baby girl.”
“Hazza. It’s almost six thousand dollars.” I dropped my voice considerably. “When I bought my car, I financed less than this ring costs.”
He chuckled and brought my hand to his lips. “This ring is perfect on you. You deserve it.” He pulled me against him and pressed his lips to mine, his lips curling up into a smile. “My blue girl.”
My cheeks reddened again. My knees felt a little shaky; he was buying me a six thousand dollar ring. He wasn’t even flinching at the cost, whereas I kind of wanted to puke.
“She’ll take it.” Harry squeezed my hand gently before letting me go, reaching into his back pocket to pull out his wallet. “Can she wear it out?”
“Absolutely, sir.” The salesman locked the case again and then motioned to the front of the store. “Right this way, let’s get you rung up. I’ll get you a box for it, in case you want it for later.”
Harry laced his fingers around mine and walked me up to the front counter. The salesman took his credit card and presented him with a protection plan and covered repair information, then waited while Harry filled everything out and signed the receipt.
My hands were shaking. Harry and the salesman were chatting offhandedly, but I wasn’t listening. This was insane. He always wanted to spoil me but I could usually keep him restrained. I didn’t want people to think that I was using him for his money which, still, I had no idea how much he actually made in One Direction. And touring. And merchandise. And perfume. I mean, I knew he had to make loads, based on the cars and houses and the fact he basically did whatever he wanted without batting an eye—but I’d never actually sat and given it any thought.
Until now.
Once the bill was paid, he guided me over to a quiet reception area in the front, tucked off from the view of the front windows. I sat down on a plush couch, resting my hand on my thigh to look at the ring. It was gorgeous. Actually, gorgeous really didn’t even seem to fit how absolutely fabulous it was. The ring was mine. He’d bought it for me—in fact, in less than hour, he’d spent nearly nine thousand dollars on me. Without even thinking about it.
He leaned over and pressed his lips to mine. “Do you like it?”
“I love it!” I smiled at him so broadly that I felt the studs in my cheeks shifting. “I honestly don’t know what to say. Thank you? Thank you seems….like not enough for what you did today.”
“You’re my girl.” He shrugged, smiling his gorgeous dimple dotted smile. “I want to take care of you, Laney. I want to buy you stuff, whatever you want. I’d buy the moon for you, if I could, just to show you how much I love you.”
I hugged him. Just pulled him into my arms and held him, nuzzling my face against his neck. He was so sweet to me. It felt like more than I deserved. But without the ring, without the dress and shoes, just the way that he looked at me made me feel like the most adored girl on the planet. He looked at me like I was his universe. Just like he was mine.
We pulled apart slightly and trailed his fingers down my cheek, gently tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. I looked at him with my most serious gaze. “I just this means I have to go down on you tonight.”
“Yeah, you pretty much have to.”
We stared at each other, expressionless, for several moments and then both burst out laughing. Forget the ring, forget the clothes. I just wanted to be with Harry, laughing and cuddling and kissing and fucking for the rest of my life.
And then he said, “I’m going to marry you someday, Laney. I swear to you.”
My cheeks heated up and I smiled at him. I was doing to my best to stay cool, but inside I was breakdancing. Jump around. Jump around. Jump up, jump up and get DOWN.
“You just name the time and the place and I’ll be there.”
He grinned and then turned very, very serious. “Promise.”
“With all my heart.”
Cameras caught Harry Styles and girlfriend Laney Lee cuddling and kissing beside the pool and, despite all the gorgeous girls around them, Harry’s eyes were only on his beautiful blue-haired girl. Our sources reveal that Laney was only supposed to stay with the tour for a few days, but couldn’t bear to leave him. “Laney flew to Tokyo to stay with Harry for a week or so, but once they were together, they didn’t want to even think about her flying back to the States. He loves having her there with him. Her going home wasn’t even an option.”
But Harry and Laney aren’t joined at the hip. Our source said, “They’re comfortable enough with their relationship that she goes out with Lou Teasdale and Sophia Smith or, when they were in London, she was out shopping with Harry’s sister, Gemma.”
Are there wedding bells in the future for Harry and Laney? One thing is for sure, they are completely committed to each other. “They’re young, but they’re in love. Harry has never felt like this for any girl before, he adores Laney. But they don’t need a piece of paper to prove they love each other. Right now they’re just focused on spending as much time together as possible and having fun.”
Turn the page for more exclusive pictures of Harry and Laney in Dubai!
I tossed the magazine into the nearest garbage can. Stupid. I wanted to throat punch whoever the source was. I mean, it wasn’t like this person was spreading lies or something. It was all true. Even the marriage part—we’d never actually sat down and had serious conversations about getting married or anything. We talked about being together for the rest of our lives…so…I guess being married was implied? Whatever. We weren’t like that. There was never some kind of magical moment, even when we first got together, where he formally asked me to be his girlfriend or something. Everything just kind of happened. And that was okay—I just loved being with him. Every minute, every dimple dotted smile of his; that was what mattered.
Harry pushed through the shop door and handed me an iced coffee. He kissed my cheek. “Ready?”
I nodded, taking a sip of coffee. Delicious. “I’d be happy just going to a vintage boutique or something, Hazza. This body is not excited by designer clothes.”
“Your body excites me, though. And, yes, you’re getting designer. It’s the Billboard Music Awards which, although is not the Grammys, is still exciting. Right? I’m going to pop your awards show cherry.” He guided me down the street, flipping his sunglasses down over his eyes. “At least tell me you’re a little bit excited? Maybe?”
“Well, I’m excited to take my awkwardness on a red carpet tour. Sophia and I are making a list of selfies we need to take throughout the night since, you know, she and I are being quarantined from you guys like we have the plague or something. Which, side note, have you seen Monty Python’s ‘Spamalot?’ I’ve been saying chercher la vashe all day and I just…okay, stop looking at me like that. You knew I was weird when we hooked up.”
He was laughing, his smile broad and knee weakeningly adorable. “Chercher la vashe?”
“It’s French for ‘fetch the cows.’”
“I am not in the least bit surprised you would know that in French.”
“Right? Because, I’ll be honest, I took like three years of French in high school and I legit can only remember things like, ‘trouver la fromage’ for ‘find the cheese’ and ‘il a été giflé par un poisson’ which is ‘he was slapped by a fish.’ I can conjugate irregular verbs too, which I’ll admit, is super hot.”
He kept laughing, draping his arm around me. “You had me at chercher la vache.”
“I’ll be absolutely useless in France, I’m just warning you now.”
As we walked towards the designer’s studio, I could see paparazzi on the opposite side of the street. It was just one guy, short and squat, and he was snapping picture after picture of us. I knew Harry saw them too: his hand tightened on my arm and he seemed to tug me closer. He was so protective. I told him I was coiled steel and shove a camera into some asshole’s face just as good as 1980s Sean Penn, but secretly I loved it. He was so adorable and sweet to me.
He wasn’t looking particularly sweet at that moment. “Just once, I want to take you around town and not be bothered.”
“It’s just because I’m majestic. They can’t get enough.”
“Well, I certainly can’t.”
We kept walking, our eyes focused on each other or on the ground in front of us. He had to stop four times to sign autographs, but finally we got to the designer’s shop.
Complete with guard at the door.
Sweet.
I realized he’d brought me to Chanel. The boutique was opulent and exquisite, with huge crystal chandeliers and what looked like mother of pearl capped pillars bordering the store. Store, ha, it was like a giant empty room with like, one shoe and a purse on display. Oh, and a wallet that was probably more expensive than a month’s rent back home.
“Harry Styles, aren’t you adorable!” a tall, painfully thin woman with a perfect bob haircut strolled out from an office, extending her hand to him. “And is this Miss Laney?”
“It is.” Harry guided me forward, smiling at me. “Laney love, this is Melinda. She runs this shop and, she set Sophia up with several brilliant gowns over the past few years. She’s the best.”
She was studying me, her eyebrow cocked up quizzically. “I’ve got about ten dresses that will fit your style perfectly. What are you, a size two?”
“Uhhh….not in the stores I shop at.”
“We’ll measure you.” She linked her arm around mine and started pulling me towards the back. “Lydia? Lydia, dear, get Harry some water and scones. If we don’t have any, go next door and buy some. I mean it, Lydia. I don’t pay you to sit there and look at Facebook all day.”
It took nearly two hours—two hours!—to pick out a stupid dress. It was Harry’s favorite from the start, but Melinda insisted we go through piles and piles of Chanel dresses. She fawned over me and, I suppose, it should have been flattering or something, but I was so damn awkward with my blue hair and tattoos and general dislike of couture. The dress we picked, though had a vintage feel to it. It was a white dress with large blue and purple paisleys on it, super short to show off my legs, but with ties around my neck revealing very little boobage. That was the way to rock it: show off legs, no cleavage. Show of mountains of boob, show less leg. I think I learned that watching America’s Next Top Model. Or maybe from my grandma. Whatever.
Once we picked out a pair of white platform shoes with silk laces that wrapped up and around my ankle, tying in a bow in the front, Melinda wrapped them in posh white boxes and totaled everything up and a chic, silver computer. “You are going to knock them dead at the awards ceremony, pretty girl. That dress looks like it was designed with your style in mind.” She pressed a few keys and then looked up expectantly. “And it’s practically a steal at $2,794.69.”
I stared at her. What. It was…..wait. That was the dollar amount? I didn’t have that much money to pay for a dress and shoes.
Harry, however, hadn’t even flinched. He pulled out his wallet and slid his credit card across the desk. “I, for one, won’t be able to keep my eyes off of you.”
I smiled at him, nervously running my fingers through my hair. Jesus, that was a lot of money. He didn’t even flinch.
The dress and shoes now paid for, Harry scooped up the boxes and led me to the door. “Thank you, Melinda.”
“Anytime, dear.”
The door was barely closed behind us when I nudged him with my hip. “Hazza. You should have just let me go to the mall and buy something. That was insane. For a dress? And shoes?”
“A dress you look amazing in. And you have to have amazing shoes to go with an amazing dress. Besides, I want you to have it. I love the way you look wearing and, honestly, you don’t let me spoil you nearly as much as I want to.”
He carried the boxes under one arm and cradled me with the other, first squeezing me around my hips and then lacing my fingers around his. We walked in a comfortable silence for all of then seconds, before a pap strolled up behind us. “Hey, Harry, did you spend some time looking at wedding dresses with her?”
Harry remained silent. He quickened his pace, his jaw set in an exquisite, but firm line.
The man kept pressing him for information. “What do you think of Zayn and Perrie breaking up? Are you worried that’s going to happen with you guys? Is that why you haven’t gotten married yet.”
Ew, it was just gross. It felt very intrusive, like they’d just invited themselves into an already overcrowded elevator. The whole situation made me feel nervous—not that I didn’t think Harry would protect me, but he just flat out looked upset. The last thing I wanted him to say was something that would get him into trouble. I guess that left it up to me to trip that pap.
Haha, I wished.
“Laney, love the blue hair. You’re gorgeous.”
Ehhhhh.
“Do you dye it yourself or do you go to a salon? There probably blocks worth of salons in LA that would love to do your hair for you.”
Well….okay, weird.
“Harry, do you like the blue hair?”
Harry draped his arm over my shoulders, guiding me down a cross street and away from the paparazzi. The camera was flashing and the man kept hounding him with questions, repeating them over and over as if somehow the continual hounding was going to make him answer. My heart was pounding in my chest. Jesus. All he’d wanted to do was stroll down the street and this happens. It was bullshit.
Harry put his hand against my head and tucked me against him. He put his head down to my ear and said, “I’ll get you out of this. I’m sorry, baby.”
He changed direction and guided me down a different street. A few girls, probably our age or a little younger, were standing outside a frilly looking boutique. One stuck her middle finger up at the camera man. “Leave them the fuck alone! They don’t want to be bothered everyday of their lives. Jesus!”
Another girl called after us. “We love you, Laney! You two are adorable together!”
Harry remained quiet. He pulled me up a staircase and into a store, letting the door shut behind us. An older blonde saleswoman looked startled, but then seemed to recognize who he was. “Paparazzi trouble?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Well, while you’re here, do you want to look around?”
“I have to make a call first.” He was talking more to me than to her and pulled out his cell, tapping his finger against the cell face. “I’m just gonna call Paul and have him come get us. Ridiculous having to call for a ride back to the car, absolutely ridiculous.”
I wandered around the first row of cases, idly looked at pearls and opals, emeralds and rubies. Glancing at a simple sterling bracelet, I leaned over to check the price tag. Five hundred bucks.
Nope. Moving on.
I glanced at a display of sapphire rings. From behind, Harry slid his arms around my waist and rested his chin on my shoulder. His breath was hot in my ear. “We could always look at diamonds.”
My heart leapt in my chest. Diamonds. Weddings. Becoming Mrs. Styles—fuck, that was like, the absolutely best way this shit day could go. Keep it together. “That’s like, surprise jewelry, Hazza. You hide diamonds in baked potatoes or the bottoms of champagne glasses.”
“Baked…potatoes?”
“Obviously, just a suggestion. Anyway,” I turned my head slightly and nuzzled against him, “that’s all on you, sexy man. I have nothing to do with it.”
“You could tell me what cut you like.” There he went again, being all sexy and smoldering and seductive, mentioning engagement rings. Nope. Nope, not even going to start dreaming about that. We were good the way we were. At least, I felt better thinking that and not getting my hopes up.
“Hazza. I’m fairly sure I’ve yet to meet a diamond I didn’t like.”
He planted a kiss on my neck and then pulled me forward, scanning the case of rings with obvious interest. I trailed along behind him, staring at all the glittering, perfect diamond rings in the case. Jesus. Some of these stones probably cost more than my car. I bet the sales people could smell the poor on me.
I glanced over a case of blue diamond jewelry, eyeing up a few pretty sterling and diamond bracelets. They were so pretty and soooo expensive. I remembered reading Sweet Valley High books when I was a kid, well-worn paperbacks my cousin Debi passed down to me, and the ultimate sign of affection was a diamond tennis bracelet. Hot damn. Put that in your Teen People or whatever.
“What about that one?” Harry tapped his finger to the top of the case.
“Wait, what are you looking at?” His finger was much higher up than the display of bracelets. He was still looking at rings.
He cocked his head to one of the salesmen. “Can you show her that ring? The blue diamond…no, that one. Yeah.”
The salesman—his name tag read Derek—unlocked the case and pulled out a huge blue diamond ring. “Excellent choice, sir. This is one of our best cut blue diamonds.”
He handed it to Harry.
Harry picked up my right hand—he did it specifically, as if making a point this wasn’t going on the all-important finger—and slid the ring on my finger. It made me shiver. Even though it was the wrong hand and we were just hanging out in a jewelry store, it made my breath catch in my throat. The ring was gorgeous, a huge blue stone with smaller white diamonds flanking it on either side. It actually fit me perfectly. I could feel my hand shaking slightly, both from the faux-enormity of him putting a ring on my (wrong) finger and from how exquisite the ring was. “It's beautiful.”
“The total size is almost two carats, I think this particular one is 1.98 carats. The center stone is a 1.5 carat brilliant cut blue diamond, nearly flawless. The band is 18k white gold, but can be switched out if you prefer platinum or 14k gold. The white diamonds are just under half carat each. It’s a gorgeous piece. And, I might add, it looks dazzling on your hand.”
Harry cradled my hand in his, tracing my knuckles with his fingertip. I could tell he was staring at the ring and thinking, his brow furrowed in thought. After several moments of silence, he said, “Do you like it, Laney love?”
I swallowed hard. “I mean, yeah, I love it, but Hazza.” I felt heat raise in my cheeks. “How much is it?”
The salesman didn’t even flinch. “This particular piece is $5,980.”
Ehhhhhh…..
Harry kept staring at my finger, his own gently curling around my hand. “This looks stunning on you, baby girl.”
“Hazza. It’s almost six thousand dollars.” I dropped my voice considerably. “When I bought my car, I financed less than this ring costs.”
He chuckled and brought my hand to his lips. “This ring is perfect on you. You deserve it.” He pulled me against him and pressed his lips to mine, his lips curling up into a smile. “My blue girl.”
My cheeks reddened again. My knees felt a little shaky; he was buying me a six thousand dollar ring. He wasn’t even flinching at the cost, whereas I kind of wanted to puke.
“She’ll take it.” Harry squeezed my hand gently before letting me go, reaching into his back pocket to pull out his wallet. “Can she wear it out?”
“Absolutely, sir.” The salesman locked the case again and then motioned to the front of the store. “Right this way, let’s get you rung up. I’ll get you a box for it, in case you want it for later.”
Harry laced his fingers around mine and walked me up to the front counter. The salesman took his credit card and presented him with a protection plan and covered repair information, then waited while Harry filled everything out and signed the receipt.
My hands were shaking. Harry and the salesman were chatting offhandedly, but I wasn’t listening. This was insane. He always wanted to spoil me but I could usually keep him restrained. I didn’t want people to think that I was using him for his money which, still, I had no idea how much he actually made in One Direction. And touring. And merchandise. And perfume. I mean, I knew he had to make loads, based on the cars and houses and the fact he basically did whatever he wanted without batting an eye—but I’d never actually sat and given it any thought.
Until now.
Once the bill was paid, he guided me over to a quiet reception area in the front, tucked off from the view of the front windows. I sat down on a plush couch, resting my hand on my thigh to look at the ring. It was gorgeous. Actually, gorgeous really didn’t even seem to fit how absolutely fabulous it was. The ring was mine. He’d bought it for me—in fact, in less than hour, he’d spent nearly nine thousand dollars on me. Without even thinking about it.
He leaned over and pressed his lips to mine. “Do you like it?”
“I love it!” I smiled at him so broadly that I felt the studs in my cheeks shifting. “I honestly don’t know what to say. Thank you? Thank you seems….like not enough for what you did today.”
“You’re my girl.” He shrugged, smiling his gorgeous dimple dotted smile. “I want to take care of you, Laney. I want to buy you stuff, whatever you want. I’d buy the moon for you, if I could, just to show you how much I love you.”
I hugged him. Just pulled him into my arms and held him, nuzzling my face against his neck. He was so sweet to me. It felt like more than I deserved. But without the ring, without the dress and shoes, just the way that he looked at me made me feel like the most adored girl on the planet. He looked at me like I was his universe. Just like he was mine.
We pulled apart slightly and trailed his fingers down my cheek, gently tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. I looked at him with my most serious gaze. “I just this means I have to go down on you tonight.”
“Yeah, you pretty much have to.”
We stared at each other, expressionless, for several moments and then both burst out laughing. Forget the ring, forget the clothes. I just wanted to be with Harry, laughing and cuddling and kissing and fucking for the rest of my life.
And then he said, “I’m going to marry you someday, Laney. I swear to you.”
My cheeks heated up and I smiled at him. I was doing to my best to stay cool, but inside I was breakdancing. Jump around. Jump around. Jump up, jump up and get DOWN.
“You just name the time and the place and I’ll be there.”
He grinned and then turned very, very serious. “Promise.”
“With all my heart.”
Notes
Guys, I'm thinking about posting a new story from Harry's POV. Thoughts? Anyone interested??
Have loved this story from the beginning! Miss the updates! Hard to be "into" the story when it is so long between updates....
3/14/16