Blue

It did my cold, black heart good to lead Harry back downstairs at the exact moment my mother, Joy, and Emily walked through the front door. Joy was yammering on about something she hadn’t agreed with at soccer practice—and at some point during the ride home, she’d pulled off her jersey and was just wearing her sports bra and her black soccer shorts. She stopped so short in the entryway that Emily slammed into her.

Emily squealed like the sass she is. “Beat it, nerd!”

Joy was staring up the stairs at us, her face draining of all color. Just as quickly, her cheeks turned a very, very dark shade of red. She yanked her jersey over her head so that it hung down over her chest like a big scarf, and screamed, “Oh my God. LANEY!”

I rolled my eyes. “Joy, I told you he was coming.”

Harry squeezed my hand, murmuring, “Once so far today.”

I snorted, elbowing him in the ribs, and then pulled him down the stairs. “So, these are my sisters—“

“LANEY!” Joy stomped her foot. “I am in a sports bra!”

“Well, let’s all be thankful for that.”

She stared at me in horror.

“Hazza, the one with the look of terror is Joy. And this is—“

Emily shoved Joy out of the way and stuck her hand out to Harry. Apparently no one in my family was in the mood to let me finish a sentence. “I’m Emily.”

He squatted down in front of her, flashing his adorable, lopsided smile. “I heard that birthday wishes are in order, yes?”

She nodded seriously. “I’m ten.”

“Double digits is an achievement worthy of celebration.”

“Do you love my sister?”

He straightened, his smile now broad, and looked up at me, winking one of his emerald green eyes. “I do, yes. Very much.”

“Are you staying for dinner?”

He nodded seriously.

“You can sit in between me and Laney.” She put her arm around Joy and shoved her towards the staircase. “Don’t expect more from her than this.”

I burst out laughing, immediately clamping my hand over my mouth.

My mother walked into the house, her eyes narrowing as she looked between me and Harry. This was my worst nightmare. This, and a wardrobe malfunction at the awards show I was going to with Harry. Or my recurring nightmare where I didn’t graduate high school because I completely forgot to attend a science class until the last day of school and couldn’t take finals because I didn’t know the material. Harry meeting these maniacs wasn’t going to be fabulous. It wasn’t going to be like when I met his family. It was going to be like trying to put a hundred cats in individual paper bags: a bad idea and impossible.

I sucked in a deep breath. Fuck it. “Mom, this is my boyfriend, Harry. Uh. Harry Styles.” What was I supposed to say? I could have just as easily handed her his driver’s license. “He just got in from Los Angeles.”

Harry shook my mother’s hand. “It’s very nice to meet you, Mrs. Lee. Thank you for your hospitality. I missed Laney very much.”

My mother’s eyebrow twitched upward. “You two were just together a few days ago. I’ll be honest, I was surprised you couldn’t go a week without being together. It seems obsessive.”

Harry shrugged casually, as if he was unfazed by her shitty attitude. “Laney is my best friend. I don’t have a lot of people I can completely open myself up to; but with her, it’s like being home. The time she’s been with me on tour has been the best time I’ve spent away from home in years. She’s my number one priority. And, when she told me it was Emily’s birthday, I wanted to come and meet her.”

“Well, I had Laney’s brothers set up the guest room for you—“

“Mom.” I forced myself to exhale slowly so I didn’t flip out and say something true—inappropriate, but true. “He’s not sleeping in the guest room, he’s sleeping with me.”

Could have phrased that better.

“Delaney, what would your father think?”

“Which one? My father or your husband?” I could match her dead man to dead man. “I think it’s nice that he took time out of his super short break to come and slum it here with us. The least you can do is not act like he and I are breaking some kind of rule or something. We’re adults. And we sleep together every night, Mother.”

Harry slid his hand down my arm and laced his fingers around mine. “It’s okay, Laney love, if that’s the rule I can follow it. I just want to be near you and see your smile.”

My mother’s expression changed—and then promptly sank back into a scowl.

Alex strolled into the kitchen, snagging an apple out of a bowl of fruit on the counter. He took a bite. “Is this your dude, Laney?”

“My dude? What, Alex, what are you—yes, he’s my dude. My boyfriend.” I rolled my eyes. “Has everyone in this house lost their minds?”

“Hey, Mom, do you know anything about getting wine stains out of clothes? Red wine, I mean, obviously white wouldn’t stain like this. I look like I got stabbed.” Foster walked into the kitchen through the backdoor, tossing his car keys on the counter. “Laney, your dude is here.”

“Ehhhh, I can’t take this. You’re going to overwhelm him.” I paused. “You’re overwhelming me and I know you people.”

My mother shook her head, pulling club soda out of the pantry. “Delaney, do you know where Ben is? I texted him earlier but he didn’t respond.”

“He drove me to the airport to pick up Harry and then he dropped us off here. He said he had sh…stuff to do.”

Foster clapped Harry on the shoulder. “Aw, man, you had to drive with Ben? You must really love my sister to put up driving with him because, wow. I’ve seen him talk his way out of a ticket, though. That’s impressive.”

“What ticket?” My mother pounced on it like a cat on an unsuspecting mouse. “When did Ben get a ticket?”

“He didn’t, that’s the beauty of it.” Foster shook his head, smirking. “Jesus, he had to have been doing sixty-five through that red light. I’m telling you, he is going to make one hell of an attorney. He could charm the feathers off a peacock.”

“Mo-om.” Alex pretended to toss a basketball at Foster’s head as soon as Mom’s back was turned. “Foster said cock.”

“I said peacock, you douche bag.”

“Mo-om, Foster called me a douche bag.”

I dropped my forehead to Harry’s shoulder, briefly shutting my eyes. “Oh my God.”

From upstairs, I heard the muffled squabbling from my sisters, and then the steady tread of footsteps nearing the staircase. Shit. Here we go. “Mo-om! Emily is going to get in the shower before me and she didn’t just have soccer practice, she just sat in the grass and listened to her iPod. OW! God damn it, Emily, I didn’t say anything about Harry. Yeah? Oh you think? Well, he loves Laney. OW! Mo-om! Emily hit me!”

Mother of God.

Harry’s body was shaking slightly from his suppressed laughter. He dipped his head close to mine and nuzzled against the side of my face. “It’s okay, baby girl.”

“They can be normal, I swear to God. They weren’t actually raised in a barn or something.”

Foster was peeling his white linen work shirt off. “The club soda isn’t working, Mom. Is this an old wives tale you learned from Grandma Jean? Like peeling peach skin off? Harry, dude, for the first seven years of my life I was convinced peach skin was poisonous because my mom peeled it off. Turns out my grandma peeled peaches because she thought the fuzz tasted like ball--”

My mom slammed her hand onto the counter. “I swear, if you say what I think you’re about to say, I’ll take away your car.”

“You already did that. But, look, I still don’t know anything that whole mooning incident. I was at the library.”

“Foster.”

“Mom, the stain is spreading.”

“You have to put it in the washer.” She shoved the soda and dish cloth into his hands. “I have a date tonight. I’ll leave my checkbook—Laney, order pizza.”

What did she mean, Laney order pizza?? “Mom, I’m not babysitting them. Harry is here.”

“I’m asking you to feed them, not tuck them in.”

Jesus Christ, these people. “Okay, great, well, as much fun as this is? I’m…just…I have to go.” I grabbed Harry’s hand and led him outside, down the back stone staircase and into the back ‘far yard’ as we’d always called it. Anything to get away from the insanity in the house.

Harry was still chuckling. “It wasn’t that bad, Laney love.”

“That’s mild compared to how they get. Before my dad died and when we used to have all the big family parties here? Ugh. You can’t even imagine the chaos. I can’t even comfortably call it chaos, I feel like they’re the human equivalent of a volcanic eruption.” I shook my head. “And the Christmas that Joy accidentally maced Foster? Good God. I just can’t with them.”

He laughed, sliding his arm around my waist and pulling me close. “Sweet girl, I’ve been on tour for nearly five years straight. I hardly remember what family is like—granted, I know it wasn’t like that—but it’s…it’s kind of nice to be around that kind of craziness. And you are absolutely adorable when you blush.”

“This is my nightmare.”

He stopped walking suddenly, pulling me into his arms and pressing his mouth to mine. “You’re beautiful. And I adore you.”

“I wish I could have like, kept them hidden in a box until it was too late for you to turn and flee. Like, long after we were…” I trailed off. I wasn’t really trying to bring up This Discussion. It always seemed too nagging.

But Harry raised his eyebrows quizzically. “After we…..we what?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Married?”

“Uhhhh….”

He kissed me again; it was passionate but gentle, his tongue playing against mine. Pulling back slightly, he kept me close to him. “Laney Styles.”

I blushed. “I kind of love that.”

“Me too.” He slid his hands down to my hips, pulling me close. “The thought of spending the rest of my life with you…I…I just can’t stop smiling when I think about it. My life changed when we met, Laney love. I never want to go back to a life without you. You are my life.”

I nuzzled against him. “It’s been an insane few months, Hazza. I’ve never had so little sleep and so, so much fun.”

His eyes were intense. “I’d give it all up for you. Everything: the singing, the touring, the traveling; I literally would give it all up to be at your side.”

“But it’s your passion.” He shook his head. “I’ve lived a lifetime in a few years. It was just a singing competition and it blew up into this whirlwind of being in the studio and private jets and nonstop being ‘on.’ But when I met you? You’re this gorgeous free spirit and you do what makes you happy. I’m just…ehm…I’m just happy that I’m what makes you happy.”

Tears pricked my eyes. “You are, Hazza. You are my everything.”

He pulled me into a tight hug, cradling the back of my head in his hand. “I love you, Laney. I absolutely adore you.”

Before I could say anything, I heard the familiar noise of someone tramping through the grass behind us. And then, the sound I loathed; the voice that if I never heard again, it would be too soon. “Hey, I hope I’m not interrupting.”

Mark.

I jerked upward, almost shoving myself out of Harry’s arms. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“I heard you were back in town.”

“Get the fuck out of here. If my mother sees you, she’ll call the cops. What are you doing in the back yard, anyway? That’s creepy shit, Mark, even for you.”

“Sometimes I hang out in the treehouse.”

I snorted. “The one my dad built when Ben and I were eight? The fuck is the matter with you?” I shook my head. “No, you know what? I don’t even care why you’re in the treehouse. Embrace it. Live your fucking dream. But get the hell away from me--I have a restraining order against you, remember?”

He’d changed in looks from when I last saw him; he’d shaved off his scruffy beard and had cut off his long, reddish brown hair. He was wearing his usually weird ensemble of baggy gray trousers, an undershirt, and a faded, buttoned flannel shirt, and a black skull cap perched on his head. This long apart, though, I couldn’t figure out what the attraction had been. His eyes were red rimmed, his skin pock marked from too much meth and heroin. “So, this is your rock star boyfriend.”

Harry took a side step, putting himself in between me and Mark. “Yeah, I am. I’m Harry.”

“You talk like a fucking hipster.”

“I’m British. It’s how we speak in England.”

Mark scoffed. “Can I talk to you alone, Laney?”

“No,” Harry answered for me, “you can’t. She isn’t interested in you, man. She wants you to leave and you need to do so. Now.”

Mark rolled his eyes and started walking towards me. “Jesus, really? Go fuck yourself, asshole. I just want to talk to her and I don’t need any of your proper ‘British’ bullshit. Now get out of my way.”

“Fuck you.” Harry shoved him backwards and away from me. “She’s with me now. She’s happy.”

“Don’t put your hands on me. I’ll go right to the newspapers or whatever and destroy you. Let them know what a bastard you are, fucker.” Mark took a few steps backwards, glaring at me. “Laney. You’re an adult. Don’t hide behind this tool.”

He wasn’t going to intimidate me anymore. “He’s right, Mark. I’m in love with him and I don’t need you. You treated me like shit—he treats me like a princess.”

Mark’s fists were balled up. He stayed where he was, though, no doubt because Harry was taller and more muscular than him. “You know she’s trash, right? She’s a meth-head like me. Did you tell him about your OD, Laney? How you couldn’t handle it?”

“Fuck you.”

“I did, Laney. Remember how I used to fuck you?”

“Hey.” Harry’s voice was sharp, his brow knitted in anger. “That’s enough. Get out of here-- now. She’s not interested in your shit because she has a man now—me—who treats her like she deserves. I will fucking rip you apart if you bother her. She’s my girl now and you are never, ever going to be near her again.”

Mark took a step backwards. “You’re a fucking whore, Laney.”

“Yeah, well, you’re an asshole.” I could hear the snarl in my voice, but that was better than me leaping over Harry and punching the fucker in the face. “And I’m better off without you.”

“Just keep telling yourself that.”

“Do you really want to go there, man? Really?” Harry shook his head and took two short steps towards Mark, sending him scrambling backwards. “I can do more for her in five minutes than you could do in a lifetime. I give her everything she wants. I’d take her wherever she wants to go, just because she is that important to me. She’s mine. And she’s not going to ever—ever—be anyone else’s. So sod off and leave her the fuck alone.”

I bit back a smile. He was sexy when he got mad.

“Did you know she was a meth head? Overdosed on an eight ball like a child?”

Harry shrugged. “That’s the past—like you. I’m her now. I’m her future. If you don’t fuck off right now? One phone call? I’ll own you. I’ll rip into you so hard, you’ll shit sideways.”

Mark stared at him, inching forward just a bit. I could see Harry bristle at the movement, but he remained calm. “Come on. Come at me.”

I grabbed his arm and pulled him back. “Harry, no, he’s not worth it.”

Harry wrapped his arm protectively around me and then turned slightly, pointing his index finger at Mark. “The next time you bother Laney? Show your face here? I’ll call my lawyer. Doesn’t matter what you wanted to say or what you intended. I’ll own you. You have no fucking idea who I am and what I can do.”

Mark stared at him for several uncomfortable moments. He was obviously debating if it was worth it. It wasn’t; but Mark was a fucking idiot. He’d need a diagram, a chart, and a map to figure out if it was better to listen to Harry or say whatever he thought he had to say to me. I didn’t care what he had to say. He’d treated me like shit—he smacked me around when he drank, he put me in danger, he almost left me in an abandoned building to die. Even a blind person could clearly see Harry was the obvious choice.

Harry had a heart of gold and the kindest, sweetest soul of any other human on the planet. But he was tall, with broad sculpted shoulders, muscular tattooed arms, and a scowl that could peel paint off the wall. He was pissed—and that wasn’t playing in Mark’s favor. Which…despite how nervous I was, was fantastic.

With a huge sigh, Mark rubbed his hand against the back of his neck. He looked at me for several moments and then turned on his heel, shuffling away around the house.

Harry exhaled deeply and wrapped his arms around me. He rubbed my upper back with gentle pressure. “I swear, Laney love, if he ever comes here and I’m not around, you press charges. I don’t care if he’s just passing through the yard. I don’t want him near you.”

I felt like I was melting into his arms. Still, there was one thought that bothered me. Mark had told my dirty secret. He’d told Harry the one thing I never had—the drugs. My eyes filled with tears. “Hazza…I’m sorry about the overdose. I didn’t want to tell you; I didn’t want you to think I—“

“No.” He slid his hand to my cheeks and cradled my face, pressing his forehead to mine. “Who you are now is what matters. The past made you who you are, yes, but the girl I fell in love with is you. Who you are; your spirit, your sense of humor…your beautiful face.”

A tear slid down my cheek. “I had a problem. He was wrong, though, it wasn’t meth. I just dropped acid, smoked pot; that kind of shit. The 8-ball almost killed me.”

“I don’t care, gorgeous girl. I love you.” He pulled me into another hug. “And nothing will ever, ever change that.”

I clung to him, wrapping my arms around his shoulders. Being close to him made me feel better. As he held me, I caught motion from the picture window in the house; the window that overlooked the back yard. My mother. She was staring at us, her arms crossed over her chest.

She nodded her head at me.

And she smiled.

Notes