Chapter 20

Disclaimer: All rights reserved. No copyright infringement is intended. The plot, Bex and her friends are mine. This is 90% fiction; the concerts are real.

Merry Christmas from my fingers to you. Wishing you love, laughter and joy this holiday!

Enjoy!

Everything About You

Chapter 20

April 5th

2:00 pm

Boston, Mass.

“Doc! Help me,” I cry as she wraps her arms around me.

“I’ve got ye,” she says softly.

As Em helps me into the backseat of the car, I look up toward the plane.  He stands as far as he can from the doorway, but close enough for me to see him.  He blows me a kiss.

Then he does a curious thing. He nods and gives Doc a thumbs up. She nods back before getting in the driver's seat.

“Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes, love?”

“Gray!” I cry diving at her. She laughs hugging me to her.  “We’ve got you, love. Let’s go home.”

I sob on Gray’s navy blazer the whole way back to the house.

~</3~

“Enough of the blubberin’...tell me what it’s like to travel with One Direction?” Gray asks handing me a mug of tea.  I wipe my eyes with the wad of tissue Em put in my hand as she shoved me on the couch. I sip the tea and try not to make a face. I’m so used to Harry making me a cup that it doesn’t taste right.

“They’re good guys...honestly...I didn’t spend much time with the other three,” I set the mug down on the table. “I...uh...um...” I sniffle. “Most of it was spent with Harry and a little with Cal.”

“Cal is the man you were telling me about? You did your internship with him?” Em says placing an entire box of tissues on my lap.  

“He’s really close with the guys,” I say swallowing hard.  I suddenly remember the interaction between H and her. “What was the little thing between you and H?”

“What little thing? H? I don’t know what you’re referring to...” She tries to look innocent.

“Oh...ya know...that little nod and thumbs up thing. I mean it's kinda hard to miss Harry Styles nodding at you.  You remember...he’s the one with the long hair...tight, black skinny jeans...Stones shirt...”

“I don’t know what ye are talking about,” she says picking lint off her sweater.

Boston is colder than I expected when we got out of the car. Granted, I’ve been in some pretty warm places the last week or so.  I think it’s more than that though.  My body seems to know Harry isn’t around.

“Yeah, right. I’ll ask him later. What time is it?” I ask Grace.

“It’s about fifteen minutes later than when you asked the last time, love.”

“Oh.”

“I think a nice soak in the tub and some food would help you settle a bit,” she says running her hands through my hair.  “Go on up. I’ll heat up the roast Uncle Mick sent over last night.”

“She’s right. Up ye go!” Doc says pulling me to my feet.

“My phones going with me,” I say checking my phone again. “What if he calls?”

“Rebekah, darling...I’ll bring you the phone immediately. Now hand it over...”

I begrudgingly do so because she sounds just like Harry did when he scolded me on the plane.

“Oh bloody hell...why are you crying now?”

“You...your accent...reminded me of Harry,” I sob.

“No more talking for Grace so,” Doc says laughing at the two of us. “Bath time and some food is just what this doctor orders. We’ll be back, Gray.”

“Now I can’t even talk...bloody boy bands...” Gray mutters her way off into the kitchen.

“Is Sophie still here?” I ask as we make our way up the stairs.

“No, she went home for a bit.”

“Never did make it into the dark room, did ya?”

“Not without trying. The girl broke a few hairpins in the lock. Hope ye can get in,” she laughs pushing on my bedroom door. “Go find some clothes. I’ll start the soak.”

“Bex! There’s a text from your man,” Gray yells up the stairs.

I practically knock Emily out of the way, “What?  What did he say?” I’m practically hang over the landing.

“Missing you already, Tog,” she reads off the screen. “What is a Tog? Why does he call you that?”

“Let me see...”

“No!  Go calm yourself. You need to sound better than you look when he calls. You don’t want the lad thinking you’ve lost all your marbles!  I’ll hold on to it until you are finished,” she says shoving it into the back pocket of her jeans.

“Grace!”

“Rebekah...go bathe. I didn’t want to mention it earlier, but you smell like you had sex with Tom Ford. We’ll be talking about that later,” she says crossing her arms in front of her.

I sheepishly return to the bedroom. There’s a huge stack of clothes on my bed.  Grace must have done everything in the room. I rummage through and find a pair of flannel pajama bottoms and a sweatshirt. Knowing I have plenty of toiletries in the bathroom, I forego getting my luggage.

Emily sits patiently on the edge of the tub watching the bubbles fill up.

“You’re really gonna play innocent with the whole Harry thing?” I ask hanging up my clothes on the back of the door.

“Nothing to discuss, lass.”

“Mm hmm...sure,” I slip my jeans off.

“Right...that’s my cue to leave. Call me when you’re in the water.” She squeezes my hand before leaving the room.

After stripping down, I slide into the tub. It immediately reminds me of the night in Cape Town. I was a mess from seeing Lareto. I would give anything to have him wrap his arms around me like he did that night.

“All in,” I call and lift a handful of bubbles up, inspecting them.

“Are you happy to be home?” Em says taking her spot back on the toilet.

“Yes...and no,” I say blowing the bubbles into the air.

“Do you want to talk about it?” This is Em. Not Doc. Em, my best Irish friend, wanting to know how I’m feeling.

“Have you ever missed someone you know...but don’t know?” I ask not even making sense to myself.

“No, can’t say I have.”

“I spent a week with him. I know him...when he’s angry, when he’s turned on...”

“When he’s turned on...well now...” She smirks.

“But...I don’t know what his favorite color is... I don’t know what his favorite food is...”

“Well, you’ll have plenty of time to find that out,” she smiles. When I don’t return it she says, “Or not. What are you doing, Rebekah?”

“What am I doing??”

“You have to stop getting in your own way.”

“I’m not. He’s a twenty one year old pop star. He’s got women crawling at his feet,” I say as I look at the ceiling. “He’ll probably get back to Los Angeles and realize what a waste of time the week was.”

“Stop that.”

“It’s the truth, Em. I’m a mess.”  I slip under the bubbles hoping to drown. I can’t hold my breath very long and end up popping back up.

“I thought you were past all this?” She says staring at me. “I think you need to talk to someone.”

“I am talking to someone. You.”

“Obviously it doesn’t help. Harry is not Mateo,” she says pointedly and stands. She pulls down the shower head, “Head back.”

I do as she as says and let her wash my hair.

Once she’s done, I look over my shoulder at her, “I know he’s not Mat.”

“Then let him love you.”

She replaces the shower head, lays a towel on the toilet and leaves.

“Let him love me...” I mutter to myself.

~</3~

I shove a forkful of Uncle Mick’s Sunday roast into my mouth as I nonchalantly check my phone.

“Alright, Love. Hand it over,” Grace says sternly.

“No,” I state firmly.

“You haven’t been home in months. I want to see your face, not the top of your head,” she says sounding like my father. She snatches the iPhone up and places it on the kitchen counter behind her. “So, Grace...how was your week? How’s the pub, Em?” she says in the worst american accent ever, crossing her arms in front of her.

“Oh, Gray...let her be. She misses him,” Em laughs wiping her mouth.

“So, Grace...how big of a wankah is Matt Lauer?” I ask folding my hands on the table.

“Your accent is better after a week with a boyband,” she smirks. “He’s a colossal wankah.”

I pick my fork back up and take another helping of mashed potatoes, “Em? Any good bar fights?”

“Mmm...well there was the one where Tim Tanahan split Noel Griggs chin open,” she smiles. “You remember him?  Tall, blonde...”

“The one you absolutely needed to ‘help’ you in the stockroom?” I ask raising my eyebrows. “Griggs...is he the one from Limerick?  Came over to start the masonry business?”

“That’d be the one. Seems good Noel was messing with Tim’s baby sister.”

“Did our good doc offer to help nurse Mister Tanahan’s injuries?”

“No,” she growls.

“And why not? I thought you had a soft spot for him?”

“Not since he tried to mess with my baby sister.”

“Oh...that’s the craic.” I say shaking my head. Never mess with sisters.

“Are we going to ignore the elephant in the room?” Gray asks loudly.

“Huh...” Em and I both say at the same time.

“Really, you two?” She shakes her head. “Since you smelled like sex and men’s cologne...Did you and the lad join the mile high club?”

“NO! Jesus Christ, Grace Anne!”

“Well why the hell not?” Em drops her fork on her plate. The clank makes me jump.

“You two are something else.”

“Then why did you smell like sex?”

“That’s none of your business.” I stand and take my plate to the garbage can.

“Oh come on! You can’t show up from a thirteen hour plane ride smelling like you’ve just gotten a knobbing and not tell us about it!” Grace laughs.

“I most certainly didn’t get a knobbing.”

“What’s the craic then? One of you got off,” Doc smirks. “I’m betting it was ye. Had the cobwebs knocked out of ye old cellar, have ye?”

“Have you gotten more Irish while I was gone?”

“Have you had a good tongue lashing while you were gone?” She throws back at me.

“God no,” I laugh.

“Come on then...out with it.  Obviously you’ve been intimate in some capacity with  Dimples Galore,” Grace says scrapping her own plate.

“Dimples Galore? Just how much of a fan are you, Gray?”

“I may or may not own one or...four albums,” she blushes.

“That’s their whole catalog.”

“I felt the need to support my countrymen,” she says seriously. The low “ahem” we hear makes her laugh. “And a wee Irish cherub.”

My phone rings on the counter and the three of us look at it.

“Answer the bloody thing!” Grace yells.

I dive across the counter for it, “Hello?”

“Ya’ll come home and you can’t even dial your momma?”

I sigh, “Sorry, momma.”

Emily and Gray both roll their eyes and finish clearing the table.

“Your papa has been talking to Ben. Is there something you need to tell me?”

“Ben? What has he been telling dad?” I ask nervously.

“Have you been thinking about changing jobs?” She asks.

“Um...no.”

“Oh.” I hear her sigh into the phone.

“How are you? How’s dad and Nate?”

“Nate is Nate. He’s waiting to hear on his residency. Papa’s busy with work as usual,” she answers avoiding my question.

“And you?”

“I’m fine, child.”

She never was a good liar.

“Momma?”

“Are you coming home soon?”

“Is there something going on?”

“No, sweetheart. Just miss you,” she says quietly.

“I’ll see what I can do. I’ll call you and let you know soon.”

“Alright. You must be exhausted. Go rest and call when you can.”

There’s a loud tone and an announcement I can’t quite make out, “Are you at work on Easter Sunday, Momma?”

“I’m just doin’ a favor for a co-worker. We’re celebrating tomorrow. If you and the girls feel like a drive, let me know. I’ll put on another ham. Gotta go, sweetheart. Love to the girls.”

“Bye momma,” I say blowing her a kiss. I stare at the phone after it disconnects. Something isn’t right and I need to get up there as soon as I can.

I check the time and try to calculate when Harry might be landing. Maybe an hour or so... What am I going to do with myself until then?

Deciding I should probably go through my luggage, I lug everything upstairs into my bedroom.  I unpack the suitcase first. I find the note Niall left me in Cape Town, the card from the lilies Harry sent me and a souvenir t-shirt from the tour. When I open it, a small note falls out.

“Thought you might want to remember your time with us.

Love, Louis and Liam”

It’s very sweet. Harry must have snuck it into the case.  

I sort all the clothes into piles for washing and then open my backpack.

When I unzip the bag, I can smell him immediately.  Reaching in, my hand immediately brushes something silky.  I pull it out but don’t recognize it as something he’d worn when I was with them.  The sleeves and back are black, but the front is gauzy and see-thru with a few clusters of red roses.

I lift the shirt to my nose. I can smell a little of his cologne, but it’s overpowered by his sweat and natural scent. My insides churn a bit; a little sad, a little happy. The sneak stashed this too. I carefully fold it and place it on the bed.  When I pull out the extra clothes from the plane, I realize the t-shirt I was wearing when we got on is gone. I smile a little to myself, knowing he wanted a little piece of me to take with him.

I sort through the rest of my things before grabbing my phone.

I take a picture of my hand entangled in the shirt, clutching it to me and send it to him.  I wait a few minutes to see if he’ll respond.  I’m disappointed when he doesn’t.

~</3~

“Girls?  Anyone got anything to put in the wash?” I call out carrying one of the laundry baskets from my closet down the hall.

“No...sorry!” Grace yells from downstairs.

“I do!! What load are ye doing?” Em yells back as she opens her door.  I can hear her favorite Irish folk songs playing. “Oh, dark load is it?” She turns back into the room when she eyes the load.

After getting the few items from her, I head downstairs to the basement.  I find a one of the security passes in the back pocket of my black jeans and a waded up cocktail napkin from the bar in Dubai.  

Feeling a little dejected, I plop down on the couch next to Gray.

“What are we watching?”

“Oh, it’s a documentary your father did on global warming. I love watching his work,” she says patting her lap.  

I cozy down on the couch and place my head on her thigh. Immediately, she starts playing with my hair.

“Haven’t been able to do this in a while...”

I quietly sniffle back the tears. I missed her comforting me. I also miss Harry playing with my hair, which is what it reminds me of.

“It’s alright, Rebekah. Have a good sob if you need to,” Gray says now stroking my head.  

~</3~

“Bex, darling...you need to wake. Dimples Galore is on the phone,” Gray says shaking my shoulder.

“What??” I shoot up from the couch. Gray is crouched in front of me smiling.

“You fell asleep. There’s a young man on the phone,” she says handing it to me. “Wipe the drool from your face. He might want to face-time you,” she whispers.

I nod my head quickly as I wipe the side of my face. Running my fingers through my hair and straightening my clothes, I put the phone to my ear.

“Harry?”

“Hello, Tog.” He sounds like he’s smiling.

“Hi,” I answer shyly. “Are you back in Los Angeles?”

“Just got in the car at LAX. I see you found the shirt.”

“I did.  I’m missing an article of clothing myself. Would you happen to know where it is?” I smile.

“Musta been Cal,” he jokes.

“Mm hmm,” I laugh.

“How are you?” His voice is soft.

“I miss you,” I whisper back to him. I clear my throat to try and maintain my composure, “How was the flight?”

“Quiet.”

“Mm,” I comment. Maybe he doesn't miss me.

I knew he’d get back there and realize it was all a mistake. Maybe just a little fun while on tour.

“Have you looked at the schedule I sent you?”

“Um...no.”

“Why not, Rebekah?”

“Just haven’t had a chance to,” I lie.

“Please look it over. There’s no way I’m going to survive not seeing you,” he says in the same quiet voice as before.

“Okay,” I nod as if he can see me.

“What’s wrong? You’ve gone quiet.”

“I wasn’t sure you actually wanted to see me again.”

“Of course I do! Remember we made a promise that we’d talk to each other. What’s going on, Tog? Are you having doubts about something?”

“You didn’t say it back,” I blurt out.

“Say what back, love?  That I missed you?”

“Yes,” I pout.

“Rebekah, I miss you so much right now...it’s all I can think about.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Sometimes, I won’t be able to say the things I would like to when we’re on the phone. People may be around. I may be getting ready to do an interview. Please keep that in mind.”

“I will. Is Dale with you?”

“No. He went home. It’s just me and my driver.”

“Aren’t you worried he might say something?”

“No, he’s been my driver for quite a long time. What have you done since you’ve been home?” He yawns.

“I took a bath, which reminded me of Cape Town...and I had a dinner. Sorted my things from the trip,” I answer walking up the stairs. “I spoke to my mom.”

“How is your family?” He asks as if he knows them.

“Everyone is okay. She wants me to come home soon,” I answer shutting my door. “Will you be going out tonight?”

“No, I don’t think so. I’ll probably call Jeff and my mum to let them know I’ve gotten back safely. Maybe go to bed,” he yawns again.

“You sound like you could fall asleep at any second.”

“Just a little jet lag. What time will you go to bed?”

“I don’t know. I think I’ll have a hard time sleeping,” I say as I lay back on the bed.  His shirt falls onto my shoulder. “But the shirt will help.”

“I thought you might want something to tide you over until we can see each other again.”

“Thank you,” I sigh.

“It was done purely for selfish reasons, Tog. I couldn’t sneak yours out and not leave anything to replace it with,” he laughs. “Thought you might be upset when you realized what shirt it was.”

“Harry!  Did you take my Stones shirt?”

“I did, love.” He laughs.

“You just want that shirt. It has nothing to do with me wearing it!” I shake my head.

“It’s seventy-five percent about your scent and twenty-five because I don’t have this one in my collection,” he laughs harder this time.

“I’ll get it back, Styles. Mark my words,” I threaten.

“You’ll have to come to LA to get it back, love.”

“Maybe I will...”

“Don’t tease. I’ll be bugging you every day.”

“What are your plans for the week?” I ask pinching at the material of my pajama bottoms.

“If you looked at the text I sent you with the schedule, you’d know I’m not doing anything this week,” he laughs.

“Touche’...”

“Seriously...promise me you’ll look it over.  I can come to you. Whatever works.” His voice is soft again.

“I will as soon as we’re off the phone. What’s your favorite color?”

“That was out of left field...”

“Favorite food?”

“Alright...I’ll play...Orange,” he answers.  I can hear the amusement in his voice.

“Oranges are your favorite food?”

“No! Orange is the color. Tacos and sweet corn for food. What’s yours?”

“Burgers and Fries,” I giggle.

“I didn’t know Burgers was a color. Is that a shade of brown?”

“Seriously...no, burgers and fries are my favorite foods. I think my favorite color is...purple maybe. Best thing your mom makes?”

“Why are you asking me all these questions, Tog?”

“I realized when I was getting in the tub that I don’t know you,” I answer honestly.

“We spent a week together...we were almost inseparable. What do you mean you don’t know me?”

“Yes, we spent that time together. I know you like to hog the bed. I know when your eyes change to a dark mossy evergreen and your voice gets deep and raspy you’re turned on. I know...”

“My voice does not get deep and raspy when I’m turned on,” he interrupts. “Does it?”

“Well, it did with me...”

“I don’t hog the bed.” He mutters this making me giggle again.

“You were practically laying on top of me!”

“Maybe...maybe,” he says sounding like a little boy, “I just... like to cuddle.”

“There was some of that too,” I laugh. “I know that you get your lips from your mother. I know that you love Fleetwood Mac.You worked at a bakery and wanted to be a lawyer. That’s it. I don’t know anything else about you.”

“Oh...well, when you put it that way,” he whispers. “Ask away.”

“Is there a favorite food your mom makes that you miss while on the road?”

“A roast dinner is always good. All the trimmings...mash and gravy, Yorkshires...”

“We had that tonight. No Yorkshires though. Gray didn’t have time to make them.”

“Shame really...” he sighs. “What do you miss when you’re out on assignment?”

“I miss the girls, my family...Wahlburgers...a good cup of coffee...” I tick off quickly.

“Wahlburgers? What's that?”

“Yeah! Will you guys be playing in Boston on the North American leg of the tour?”

“Yeah...”

“We’ll go to Wahlburgers. It’s a place started by Mark and Donnie Wahlberg with their brother. It’s sooo good,” I let out a small moan just thinking about it.

“Please don’t do that.”

“Do what? Take you out for a burger? Are you on some special diet, Harry?”

“No, the burgers are fine...it’s the moan you let out,” he groans. “It’s not fair.”

“Sorry,” I laugh.

“Now that I’ve heard it in person and on the phone, that’s all I’ll be thinking about tonight...maybe the next week...”

“Are you almost home?”

“Actually yeah, I am. I should let you go. Can I text you later?”

“Please?”

“Good night, Tog. I’ll text you soon.”

“Harry?”

“Yes?”

“I miss you,” my voice cracks a little.

“I miss you too, Love.”

“Have a good night.”

“I will now that I talked to you. Sweet dreams, Tog.”

“See you...”

“Bientôt, l’ Amour,” he says softly before ending the call.

“Bientot, l’Amour...Bientot, l’Amour...” I repeat to myself as I jump off the bed. “Gray!  Grace?? Bientot, l’Amour...Bientot, l’ Amour...”

“What are you yelling in french?” Gray yells from somewhere in the house.

I mutter the phrase as I run down the stairs.

“What does Bientot, l’Amour mean? My french is shit,” I yell.

“See you soon, Love...why?” She yells from the kitchen.

“I got the love part...Are you sure?”

“Well, more like soon, love...but yes.” She laughs stirring her tea. “Why? Did dimples galore say that to you?”

“Yes...” I can feel the blush on my cheeks.

“Oh, you’re blushing! Someone definitely fancies the dimpled boybander,” she squeezes my shoulder as she walks by.

I follow her into the living room.  She tosses my favorite blanket onto the end of the couch opposite her, knowing I’m going to curl up in the corner. Once we’re both settled into our spots, she smiles at me over the rim of her cup.

“So...how is Mister Styles?”

“Tired. His favorite foods are sweet corn and tacos,” I smile.

“Squirrel...” she says looking at me like I’m crazy.

“Sorry. Just something I learned tonight,” I laugh.

“You spent a week with him and you just found that out tonight? I think you knobbed him all week and just don’t want to admit you’re a huge slag.”

“Gray!  I didn’t knob him!  Why don’t either of you believe me?”

“Because you’d be crazy not to!!” Emily says coming down the stairs. “Have you seen him?”

“Shit! I forgot to ask him about that!” I slap my leg. I was going to ask him about his little interaction with Doc.  I watch as she sits down looking very smug. “What the hell happened?”

“Alright, don’t get upset,” she rolls her eyes at me, “we had a conversation.”

“When?!?!”

“On the flight from Cape Town to Dubai,” she raises one eyebrow at me. “Which...I’m still upset that you got all pissed up so.”

“Wait...how did you know I got drunk and how did you have a conversation?”

“You were texting me. Lots of ‘woe is me - I’m drunk on whiskeh’...”

“Oh...”

“I wanted to box your ears...Harry ended up with your phone. We had a conversation,” she says getting up and walking off toward the kitchen.

“Did you discuss me?” I follow quickly behind her.

“We discussed the fact that you were drunk...he was worried about you and unsure of how to deal with you,” she answers coolly while pulling down her own coffee cup. “Apparently, you were extra weepy last week.”

It dawns on me why he kept reminding me to call her. He had spoken with her and knew she was upset with me.

“Now I know why he kept reminding me I needed to call you,” I sigh into my hand. “I’m sorry.”

“Bex...you need to let him in. He seems genuinely lovely and cares about you.”

“It’s hard, Em...”

She turns toward me as the kettle reheats, “It’s good that you realize he’s not like Mateo. That’s a start. I just think...you could be passing up a chance at having something really good.”

I fall into the nearest chair, “How do I do that?”

“What? Let him in? You start by telling him what happened with Mateo. Even we don’t know what entirely happened,” Grace adds as she pulls out the chair across from me.

“Even better, you can tell us what occurred that last night,” Em says perching herself on the counter.

The thought of rehashing what happened that night sends chills up my spine. The only person who knows what actually happened is Nathan. I watch as my hands start to shake in my lap. Grace stands and starts toward me.

“No, Grace.” Emily barks in her doctor voice. “Do you want to tell us what happened?”

In my head, I know I need to tell someone what happened. Should I tell them?

Can I tell them?

Maybe this is the only way I will be able to tell Harry; telling other people so it’s not so traumatizing for me. I take a few deep breaths and look at my two best friends in the world.

“We had gone to dinner...”

~</3~

A bottle of Jameson’s and shot glasses liter the table.

“Alright you three...time to go,” the gruff voice says as a hand swipes the empty bottle off the table.

“Jaysus, Mick...don’t be a right prick now!” Gray yells at him.

“I’m callin’ ye three a cab.”

“Uncle Mick...do we know any fine Irish lads who would be willin’ to beat the shite out of someone?” Em asks and then hiccups.

“I might be knowin’ a few...why?”

“It’s got to be des...dis...descrte...fook...on the hush hush,” Gray whispers and places her finger over her lips. “SHHHHHH.”

“Not that...” I burp loudly and giggle, “Tinhand...I mean...Tanahan...”

Emily lets out a cackle, but scares herself with another hiccup.

Lifting my hand, I wag my finger at Uncle Mick, “No Griggs either...pricks.”

“Right Pricks...” Gray agrees as she sticks her finger in her shot glass looking to get the last remnants of whiskey from it.

“Sounds like I might want to be doin’ it meself,” Mick says leaning back in the chair. He crosses his big tattooed arms. “Who are we lookin’ to give a lesson to?”

“Mahhhtayyyo,” Gray growls.

The door of the bar opens and the four of us look up.

“What’s the craic?” Em yells. The force in which she stands causes the chair to fall over behind her.

“Hello, Bex...”

Author note: I know I haven't posted in a while. I wanted to give you all a little present for being so patient since I started this story. You and your enjoyment of the story means so much to me. I wish you all a very Happy and Posperous 2017!

All the Love, Lady H.