***A/N: I know... it's been a hot minute. I finished my first story series, and needed focus on tying that up in pretty package before I could get back to focusing on Harry and Nola. In the meantime, y'all pushed my reads over 50K, which is just MIND BLOWING. Honestly! I am so beyond humbled and truly thankful for each and every one of you.
Now, to the real reason you're here- PART 2 of a very important week for Harry and Nola. I promise this chapter is worth the wait 😊
I walk upstairs to my room, and cautiously open the door to find Nola- blissfully unaware of the intrusion of her privacy in a different country. I'm not sure that waking her up to tell her this is going to be any better than just letting her sleep until morning. In my experience, these things are going to happen, whether you're awake for them or not. So, I grab a pair of joggers and a sweatshirt and walk myself outside and up to the terrace to lose my shit a little. There's a very real fear living in me, having taken root with all my past relationships, that this will be the thing that makes her decide that I'm not worth it. That staying with me isn't worth the hassle. Most of them do, that or I make them run before they get the chance to tell me I'm not worth it.
"Harry?" I hear a timid voice call from the top of the stairs. A tired Nola is wrapped in a quilt, clearly looking for the person who had just been sleeping next to her.
"Hi," I say, equally as timid. I barely look her direction, steering my eyes back down to the ground between my feet. I don't get up to greet her because I'm trying to make my eyes stop watering before she finally gets to me.
"Baby, what's wrong?" She asks as she sits down on the other end of the lounger. Clearly she can see that I'm upset about something, but I didn't have enough time to flush out what I was going to say when I told her about the pictures. Hell, I didn't even know if they were up yet. She scoots closer to run her hands through my hair, like I do when I'm nervous. My longer hair is tickling my eyes and she takes the clip from where it was resting on the pouch of my hoodie and clips my it back for me.
"Talk to me, H. What's going on?" she soothes. I don't want to do this now. I don't want to break us, but I can't lie to her. Especially not when it involves the girls. The sad reality is that I also don't have the words to get it out. So, instead I just open my text from Jeff and hand her the phone.
Her first reaction is exactly what I expect it to be. Her petite hand makes its way up to cover her mouth as she inhales a gasp. She started to shake her head and mumble the word no over and over again underneath that same hand. "A-a- are there pictures coming out?" she stutters.
"Jeff did what he could about the paps, but they were people at the park taking pictures, as well. He's guessing some private accounts will post them today, if they haven't already. They'll do their absolute best to get all of them down but you know how fast people screenshot these things and start asking questions and..." I anxiously rub my hands over my face as the tears start to fall. I attempt to wipe them away so I can get her back to the girls.
"I'll call and get everything set up so we fly back in a few hours," I say, standing up. This was her threshold. This was her only remaining limitation with me- the privacy of her girls.
She reaches for my hand as I start to walk away and she pulls me back to her, forcefully pulling me down. I sit down next to her, but refuse to meet her eyes because I don't want to see the moment that she chooses to leave me set in those beautiful golden brown irises. "Look at me, Harry," she says rather forcefully.
"I'm sorry," I say as I start to break down. She cradles my body against hers, and after a few minutes she holds my head up so that I have no choice but to meet her gaze.
"First, this is NOT your fault."I roll my eyes at that one. Of course it is. Nobody would be taking pictures of the girls with Helen and Hope. They only took them because they were with Gemma and my mum, and that's because I'm related to them. "Second, we don't even know if there will be any pictures."
"There will be," I say, defeated, because I know better. She covers my mouth with her hand and shakes her head. Apparently I am not to speak right now.
"Third, why would think I would want to leave if there were? Seriously. What would that fix?" I don't know how to answer because I was just told told to not speak and I'm afraid that any words I say will be the wrong words.
"The paps. Nola. They are going to be relentless now. Someone will dig and figure it out. Someone will connect the dots. Then..." I can't even finish the last thought because it's way too painful an admission. So, instead I just bow my head and turn away from her again.
She physically turns my head back to her again. "Then what?"
"You said the girls..." I sniffle. "Keeping their privacy is so important to you and I get that, but I just thought we'd have more time before..."
"Before people got pictures? Before people figured out who I am? Before it all blew up?" she asks, calmly and I nod. "What exactly did you think was going to happen when it all blew up?"
I shake my head, not wanting to give words to my worst fears at the moment. "Harry, baby. I need you to say it out loud," she begs, almost in a whisper, obviously getting upset now.
"Why? Why do I have to say it when we both know?"
"Because I can't tell you how wrong you are until you do," she says and my head shoots to the side, eyes now fixed on hers. She gestures for me to speak.
"I knew once I told you- that you would leave me," I say to the ground.
Nola shifts besides me, getting on her knees in front of me and forcing me to stare at her because she is looking up at me from below. She lifts my down-turned head and presses a gentle kiss on my lips. "You really are a stupid man sometimes, you know that." Her words take me by surprise, but not as much as the next ones do. "I love you, Harry." Wait. What?! Did she just say... "There's not going to be any leaving. Nobody posting a picture of me or the girls is going to change-"
I interrupt her, - "d-did you just say... say that you love me?"
She nods, tears streamlining down her face as I pull her from her knees and onto my lap; the quilt falling open as she settles. "I love you, H."
"Oh, my god, Nol. I fucking love you," I say as my hands grip tighter around her body, like I'm afraid that she will take back her words. "Can you say it again?"
"I love you," she whispers in my left ear before gently taking my left earlobe between her teeth. Then, she moves to the right side and whispers again, "I love you," and bites there. Once she makes it back to the center, I kiss her before she can say it and pull back just long enough to say the words myself to her.
Her arms drape around my shoulders as the quilt fall completely away. I move to take my sweatshirt off, and she laughs when she has to help me untie it to get it off. I pull it over her body and she settles comfortably atop my lap. "So, I guess this changes everything?"
"Not really." I say and she gives me a questioning look. "I've been in love with you for months. The only difference is now you know that, too." She reaches to remove the sweatshirt I just gave her. It's cold out tonight- not like the first night we got here. "Nola, what are you doing? You're going to freeze."
"Then, you better show me how much you love me and use that gorgeous body of yours to warm me up," she says and I immediately flip us on the lounger and remove the rest of my clothes. Nola was already completely naked, so access is quick. I sink in slowly, keeping my eyes fixed on her as I do. I push her loose hairs back with my hand, kissing gentle pecks on her lips as I bottom out. The feeling so incredible that I have no words to describe it other than to repeatedly tell her the words I've been waiting to say. The words she said to me first. The words that changed us forever. "I love you, Nol."
•••••
We didn't end up sleeping on the rooftop terrace, as the chilly air eventually overtook our ability to stay warm, even endlessly connected to each other. I also didn't sleep a wink. How could I? She FUCKING loves me. I know that doesn't fix the photos, but it means that she isn't going to leave. God. It means so much more than that.
"Stop staring you creep."
"But I love you," I answer as a response to being caught. I have no idea how because her eyes haven't opened yet today, but she always catches me.
"Is that going to be your excuse for everything now? I love you, so all is excused?" She stays laying on her stomach as she speaks, her naked body on display for me. I move closer, gently kissing down her her spine until I reach the two dots imprinting her skin at the base of it. I kiss each one before spreading her legs apart so I can access her.
"I love you, so it means I get to stare." I say and lick up her folds. "And taste." Then, I reach the same wet skin with my fingertips, "and touch." Her responsive body writhes underneath me. I reach under her hips to prop her up on all fours, and though it requires her to move from her relaxed sleepy state, she happily wakes up just enough to prop her body in place for me to fill her up like last night.
I'll never get over watching my cock sink inside of her. From this position, it's an especially beautiful sight. I withdraw myself, my tip almost completely visible, then I watch myself disappear back inside of her as her back arches at the feeling of taking me so deep. My jaw goes slack as I attempt to catch my breath from the rapid pace at which my orgasm seems to be building.
I have to stop watching and connect with my love. So, I lean over to rest my body on her back. Allowing me to rock inside of her with the smaller movement of my hips and wrap my arms around her so that I can hold her tight to me; one hand on her breast and one reaching around to my clit. She throws her head back and moans into the air, exposing her neck to me and my hand moves to gently apply some pressure to it, as her hips meet my own racking rhythm and her body shakes intensify.
I can feel her breath catching under the pressure of my fingers wrapped around her petit neck. The gentle tightening causes the pink flesh of her cheeks to deepen quicker than usual and her release clenches extra tight around me.
"Fuck, Nola. You feel incredible today."
Seconds later my release hits and I straighten up my upper half, as I release inside of her, feeling the combined flexing and constricting of our bodies together. She moans underneath me as she comes back to reality and I can feel her legs wanting to give out. "I'll pull out so you can lay back down," I tell her as she lets out the sweetest contented hum.
Laying down next to me, we stare at the ceiling together, trying to catch our collective breaths. After a while, Nola rolls over to rest on my chest. "What are we doing today?"
"Tonight, we have a private tour of the Borghese Museum, but not until after hours, so we are going to the market this morning."
"Can we do that?" She asks, surprised.
"Yes, but not close by," I say, shifting so that I am sitting up, while she stays laying down. I move the pillow to my lap and she readjusts so her head is lying comfortably on it. "How do you feel about taking a little drive?"
I run my fingers through her hair that she has taken out of the messy bun that sex necessitated. "How little of a drive are we talking?"
"A little over an hour."
"Sounds lovely. Can we grab some coffee along the way? I'm not really a fan of what you have here." I pretend to be offended, but she's already made it known that my coffee set up at the villa is sub-par.
"Of course we can, darling," I tell her and she sits up and stretches her body to ready it for the day. She stands next to the bed and beds down, tucking her hair behind her ears, to give me a kiss.
"I love you," she whispers over my lips seconds before our connection happens. "Now, go wash off. You smell like sex."
She leaves the room to use the hall bathroom. When we shower together, or even get ready in the same bathroom, we end up getting nowhere. So, she decided yesterday to get ready in the other bathroom so that we can actually get out of the house. "Oh and Harry?" she asks peeking her head back into the bedroom as I survey my clothing choices for the day. I nod. "Wear the red boxers."
I'm waiting in the kitchen for Nol to appear from getting ready. She comes down in a pair of jeans light wash jeans that look like they were painted to her body. She has a turtleneck-type white shirt tucked in with a brown leather jacket draped over her arm. "I'm almost ready," she says as she flits by me to dig through a bag in the foyer. "Damn!"
"What?" I ask.
"I think I left my extra sunglasses behind. Remember that we broke my other pair last night. On the terrace?"
I slink up to her. "When you told me you loved me?" I wrap my arms around her and revel in the newness of our profession of love for one another.
"Mhm," she smiles. "Yeah. Then."
"Well, I have a bunch here." I say as I cross the kitchen. "Gemma left a pair last year and she won't mind if you wear them." I dig through the drawer and pass them to her and pushes them back in her hair like a headband. "Will they work?" I ask and she nods, not even looking at them in the mirror before we head out. I love how unbothered she is.
"We need to talk about that," she says, seriously. "About the reason you were so upset last night."
"I know, but let's eat first. Oh, and bring your passport."
"Why?"
"Just in case." I can tell she wants to question me, but she doesn't. I normally don't need them, but sometimes I need identification with me if we get in the middle of a mob of people without my security, which though not likely could happen.
We get in the car and I pull over to let her out to order our coffee. She returns with coffee and pastries, which I knew she would without even asking her to. I pull away from the curb and we leave the busy town to weave through the Italian countryside. "We need to talk about yesterday," she says, looking at me. "I've never seen you so worried, Harry. Did you honestly think I would bail if the girls picture had gotten out with your mum and Gemma (which they haven't, by the way)?"
I sheepishly nod. "I thought you would. Your girls are your number one priority, as they should be, and you were always way more concerned about pictures of them getting out than you were about any of us."
"Still, though. I would never break up with you over something so trivial. Something you couldn't control. Do you really think that little of me?" Shit.
"Of course not!" I nearly scream in defense. "I just...". Her hands steadies mine, which has begun to shake.
"Harry, baby. I love you. I'm not them," she says, remembering our earlier conversations about what typically happens when the press finds out who I'm dating. I'm still worried about that. One blurry photo of a mystery girl and the world knowing are very different, but I don't think Nola is that shallow, or insecure. "I called my lawyer this morning," she says.
With that comment, my head snaps to her. "I disclosed our relationship and told them about the possibility of the girls being posted on social media. I'm sorry I didn't tell you about it before I did it, but there is a dark side to my family and I've tried to keep the girls under the radar so that people who are associated with my dad don't," she says and inhales a sharp breath, "don't have access to them."
"Shit, Nol. Do we need to get Jeff involved?"
"We might. I hadn't involved him, or your team yet because I didn't know where this was all going, but now... we both know it's not ending when I leave, so there will have to be some conversations between your team and," she pauses and rolls her eyes. "I hate to even cal them this but I guess you would call them my team."
"It sounds like we need to plan a meeting once we are back in London. Did they say anything about it in the meantime."
"They are working to keep all the pictures that may surface down."
"I think they should contact Jeff and my legal team today. It sounds like they are literally watching for the same things. Would you be comfortable with them doing that?"
"If it means we can stop taking about it and enjoy our trip, then yes. I pay them a lot of money to not have to deal with this stuff, as I'm sure you do, as well." Until now, I'd been concerned about the backlash of the pictures, but all this time she has been working against it all, too. She's so much more ready to handle all of this than anyone else I've ever dated, and the hope that brings makes me fall even deeper.
"Hey Nol?"
"Yeah?"
"I love you."
"Love you, too."
An hour later we park and get out at the open market, which is mostly hand-crafted items for sale for the holidays. Small fires are burning every couple stands to keep the shoppers and sellers warm. "How often do you wash these?" Nola asks as I hand her the reusable bags that are actually samples for PLEASING.
"They are perfectly seasoned," I respond, noting that they are actually quite gross, but very washable.
"They're not a set of cast iron skillets Harry. You need to wash these."
"Fine, but can we just use them this one time. I really don't want to turn around and wash them right now?" I joke with her, pretending to head back towards the car, which confuses Paddy who is a few steps behind us.
"Duh. We can do it later, but I was just telling you that they're gross."
•••••
Our shopping trip was uneventful but fun. Nola picked up a Mika Pot for my house in Italy, saying that the coffee we've been brewing here just doesn't do it for her. The heater in the car is a necessity once we make it back because we both underestimated how cold it was outside today. I hand Nola my phone and she scrolls through my music selections before settling on just letting the music shuffle on my library in the Apple Music app. First, Feel It Still by Portugal the Man comes on. She does a little dance in the passenger seat, swinging her arms and singing every word like she's done it before for karaoke.
"What I used to sing it to the girls." Of course she did.
The next song comes on. "This is quite the eclectic mix, H," she says as Let's Dance by David Bowie comes on and she sings with me, letting her voice raise in volume through what is obviously her favorite part; "tremble like a flower" we both sing at the top of our lungs before starting a little jam session during the instrumentals.
I watch her carefree dancing still when my own library sabotages me and Cherry starts playing. She starts to speak French at the beginning. "CouCou," Nola mimics and I roll my eyes, reaching for my phone.
"Absolutely not. Skip."
"Not skipping it. S'il vous plaît c'est une de mes chansons préférées," she says, speaking perfect French as the dulcimer starts in with the chords.
I answer in my disjointed French, "Ce n'est pas à propos de ton ex."
"Don't be a baby, H." She says as I literally sing the line 'don't you call him baby' over the speakers in the car. "You put it on an album. If you didn't want people to hear it, you shouldn't have done that."
I literally hate this. The memories of Camille being brought into this space between us- into our relationship. That is until she starts to sing to the music, reaching for my hand and saying, "Je t'aime Harry," her voice saying Harry with the most perfect French accent before placing a kiss on the back of my hand, then continuing to hold it though the rest of the song. I eventually give in and start singing with her on the bridge
'Does he take you walking round his parents gallery...'
The song finishes as she adds the 'cou cou's' at the end before skipping the part that Camille speaks at the end and going on to the next song.
Thank god the next song is not mine, but it's definitely not one on my playlist, either. I don't dislike the 1975, but they are definitely a more prevalent fixture in Nola's library. I don't know this one word-for-word, but I know it's one of their typical upbeat love songs. What makes me love it is the person who is belting it at the top of her lungs sitting next to me.
Nola's overdramatic gestures make me smile while her body rolls in her seat, patting her hands over her chest when she sings the words 'heartbeat' faking her heart is beating out of her chest. As she says 'I'm in love with you, she points obnoxiously at me, then when Matty tells everyone to sing, she holds up an imaginary microphone for me to join her, fumbling through the words as she mouths them to me, until we get to the part we both know.
I'm in love with you, I-I-I-I
I'm in love with you, I-I-I-I
In love with you, I-I-I-I (yeah)
I'm in love with you, I-I-I-I
I'm in love with you, I-I-I-I (yeah)
I'm in love with you, I-I-I-I
In love with you (I-I-I-I-I)
The songs continue to change; shifting between vintage rock and modern pop pretty strategically. I'm not ready to turn off when we reach where we are supposed to. I'd like more time in the car with her, just enjoying each other. "Hey, Nola? Should we just keep driving?" I ask her and she feverishly nods her head.
"But we might need to break into the bread we bought at the market," she says as her stomach growls loud enough for me to hear it across the car.
"There is a little shop up here that sells the most incredible flavored sparkling waters. Plus, I need to get gas if we plan to keep driving for a while."
"I'm good with that."
"It's settled, then. I'll stop and grab that and we can eat the apples and cheese with the bread we got for as a lunch on the road."
•••••
It's 7:30pm now and I'm watching Nola glide lipstick over the lips that I've kissed an obnoxious number of times today, but can you blame me? Every time I think about what she told me yesterday I get the urge to drop everything and fuck her. Though I've done that plenty today (on the terrace after she told me, in bed this morning, bent over the back of the couch this afternoon and in the shower an hour ago), I have to attempt to control myself long enough for us to make our appointment on time tonight.
It's a bit of a drive in to Rome, but the Museo e Galleria Borghese is one of my favorites and it was willing to accommodate us having a docent after hours for a private tour. Then again, they are closed to the general public right now, so offering to pay a ridiculously large sum for two hours was probably something they could not pass up.
We aren't driving tonight, so Paddy is doing that, instead of just following as our shadow. "Wine?" I ask Nol in the back seat.
"Yes, please."
I pour us both glasses and we sip as we take in the darkened Italian countryside. "I can see why you like it so much here. When we've been out only a couple people have approached you. I'm guessing it's usually a lot more than that?"
"Yeah. The fact that I'm wearing a mask a lot of the time helps, too. It's not as easy for people to figure out who I am when half my face is covered. Sometimes I can even see them contemplating coming up, but they aren't sure if it's me and they don't want to approach me in case it's not."
"At least one good thing came out of the pandemic."
"Darling, more than one good thing came out of it," I tell her, leaning over to kiss those perfect lips, once again, but chastely because I don't want to smear her lipstick. It's actually strange to see her get all made up. It's not like I need her to do that for me, or anyone, really. I actually prefer when it's just the two of us at home in our everyday clothes, but seeing all of the effort she put in for our date tonight makes me excited for when I can take her out more in the future.
By the time we arrive, we are half a bottle of wine in and ready to take our private tour. "Mr. Styles. Ms. Bennett," the docent greets us with handshakes at the rear entrance for the museum. "I'm so happy that you reached out for a tour. I will guide us through some of the most important pieces, but please stop me if you would like to see anything in particular or learn more about a certain piece." He is well spoken and clearly bilingual, though I catch more a French accent than an Italian one.
"This collection was formed by Cardinal Scipione Borghese, the most knowledgeable and ruthless art collector of his day. It was originally housed in the cardinal's residence near St. Peter's, but he had it transferred to his new villa just outside Porta Pinciana in 1624." The docent is telling us the information I already know, having been here multiple times, so instead, I observe Nola.
We know each other well, yes, but I know Nola, the mother. Nola, the widow. Nola, my girlfriend. Nola, the daughter. I don't know Nola the former Yale student, but I think I'm seeing her years before me, and her upbringing, shine through. It started with the entirely appropriate date attire, perfectly curated for a museum tour in Italy. Then, it came out again in the way she shifted completely to an 'appropriate listening stance' the moment the docent began to educate us. Now, it's coming through in the questions she asks about the art; so well educated on many of the collections pieces already. It's like this side of her isn't someone I've been lucky enough to be around much. Then again, theres a whole side of me she's only seen a few times, and that used to be my whole life, too.
The docent is showing us something else, but Nola is distracted and sets her sights high on the wall. She is studying a relief sculpture of a horse and rider falling into the void, completely ignoring the docent while her eyes squint to take in its beauty. "Excuse me," she interrupts him, pointing at the relief. "Is that done by Pierto Bernini?" She asks, still much too far away for her to have read the placard.
"Yes. Good eyes, madam Bennett. That is called Marco Curzio a Cavallo."
"I studied his son in art history in college. Gian Lorenzo's art is some of my favorite."
"Oh, you must visit the Cornaro Chapel in Santa Maria della Vittoria. And have you seen the Fiumi Fountain at night?" He asks her and she shakes her head to both of those. "Do drive by the fountain after you leave. It's much more breathtaking in the darkness- in my opinion," he adds and they continue to walk through the sculpture gallery as my giddy Nola nerds out over the artwork in a way I hadn't expected, but probably should have.
"I love watching you talk about art," I whisper at one point and she turns and kisses my cheek before returning her attention to the man speaking about a mosaic ripped from some prominent home at the time of this collection being formed.
An hour later, we are bidding our farewell to the docent, even though I feel like Nola could have led the tour. "Can we please go see the fountain," she asks as I help her into my jacket for the ride.
"Of course we can, darling. I already sent Paddy the plans, so he has it all queued up for us in the navigation." I guide us out the back door to the waiting car and Paddy drives the short distance to the fountain. When he parks the car, he tells me that it's just a slight walk to the fountain. In that walk, however, I am recognized and asked to take a few photos, even though they will likely turn out horribly seeing as it's nearly midnight.
The fountain is lit a beautiful shade of creamy yellow. "My god. The shadows at night," Nola says as she rings her hands in giddy anticipation. "Isn't it beautiful, Harry?"
I've been looking between the fountain and the light reflecting off Nola's face as her features twist in excitement. Her eyes are so golden in this light. "Yeah, it is," I say, but I'm not looking at the fountain anymore.
"Harry, stop. You see me all the time. LOOK at the fountain." She attempts to turn my head to focus on the sculpture, but instead I choose to pick Nola up off the ground, spinning her around in my arms as my lips shamelessly attach to hers. We aren't alone, that I am well aware of. People saw me and recognized me on the walk here. We aren't wearing masks because of the late hour and the nearly abandoned streets, so that made picking me out of the small crowd an easy feat. Still, I don't care. I don't think Nola cares at this point, either.
After setting her back down, we do spend a while circling the fountain and taking in the tiny illuminated details. Then, when we have nearly reached the car, my phone rings once and I ignore it. Then, it rings again, so I check and see that it's Jeff.
----- Call from Jeff -----
"Hi Jeff." I say, putting him on speaker.
"We're you two just kissing in front of some fountain in Rome?" The words leave his mouth and I expect to see Nola freaking out, but instead she just smiles.
"We were. Why? Is it trending?" I ask honestly.
"Yeah. It's blurry, but it's posted." I have a silent conversation with Nola. She shrugs her shoulders and I ask 'are you sure' with a look and she nods.
"Let them have it. You can't identify Nola can you?"
"Not a chance. At least not with what's out right now. You can tell that it's you, but into because of the hair clip and your sweater."
"It's fine, Jeff."
There is a pause. "Harry can you call me tomorrow morning when you have some time? We need to talk tour rescheduling."
"Yeah. Sure," I say as Nola snuggles in to my side in the backseat of the car, wrapping my free arm around her so that she can kiss my hand.
"Goodnight Nola," he says, knowing he has been on speaker.
"Night Jeff."
"Bye. We'll talk tomorrow."
----- End of call -----
"What does he need to talk you about?"
"Tour. If the dates can move forward as planned for the North American dates- really just for the US dates." She nods and I can tell she's thinking spiral-worthy thoughts.
I lean down to kiss the top of her head. "Stop. I love you and we will figure it out." I say into the thickening air of the back seat.
"I know we will."
•••••
I wake up early because Jeff asked me to call him. I step outside to keep my voice from carrying through the mostly stone house. I suspect this call has nothing to do with the tour.
----- Call to Jeff -----
"Hey, H. How's Italy."
"Fabulous. How's L.A.?"
"Good. Sunny." Great. We are talking about the weather.
I cross the yard and sit down on a chair at the edge of a path. "You asked me to call. What do you need?"
"Well, I think we need to talk about your girlfriend." I knew it was coming, but I still hate when my significant others become the topic of the week at my management company and then with my legal team.
"What exactly do we need to talk about?"
"We were contacted by Nola's lawyers. Seems there's some pretty powerful people protecting her girls from getting any media attention. More powerful than anything we have access to. I didn't kill the social media pictures of them with your mom or Gemma. They did."
I knew that her legal team was told about them, but I guess I didn't ask the extent of it.
"What do I need to know about her that I don't, Harry? Someone doesn't have lawyers like that at her disposal if she is free of ghosts her closet."
"I told you what I know."
"Well, Nola Bennett, or Matilda Morgan, or whoever she is or was, is being protected from something and it's my job to try and protect you. So, I'll ask again. What do I not know? Or perhaps what do you not know?"
"Her family sucks. Most of them- they're in prison, Jeff. Pretty sure she's just trying to keep the girls away from all of the drama they like to cause. They aren't killing pictures of the two of us now are they?" I say defensively.
"You don't need to get mad at me about this, Harry. I just want to make sure you know who she is. Who she REALLY is."
"I do, Jeff. She told me about her lawyers two days ago. She even said we could all meet if that is what you would like. Now, I'm on vacation and clearly there is no update on tour or you would have lead with that. So, if you have nothing left, I'm done having this conversation."
"I just want you to know that we're looking into her, but we keep hitting roadblocks."
"Then stop looking. I'm not going to change my mind about her."
"I'm just trying to watch out for you."
"I'm fine, Jeff. See you next week."
----- End of call -----
I walk inside and try to shake off the call with Jeff. That man has a way with getting under peoples skin. I chug some water and go to wake up Nola. "Come do yoga with me," I plea, pulling the covers off my beautifully naked love, watching her body shiver in both the cold and beneath the kisses I'm dotting her body with.
"Whhhhhhhyyyyy?" she whines, hating that I made her wake up unnaturally.
"Because you actually like it, and your body has to be sore," I quip and she rolls over to fully face me.
"We can stretch in bed," she says, attempting to seduce me. It would work if I wasn't in need of some stress relief after the call with Jeff. That and I'm already in my yoga clothing, holding hers in my hand, hell-bent on getting the two of us some exercise that doesn't end an orgasm- just this once.
"Ugh. Fine! Under one condition," she says, sitting up to pull on her sport bra. I hold out her shorts for her to step into, skipping the underwear because really what's the point in already skin-tight shorts.
"I'm listening," I say as I kiss her stomach while she steps into said shorts.
"We set a timer for an hour, and after that hour is up, all clothes come off and the rest of our yoga session happens in the nude."
"Paddy is out for the morning, so I can agree to those demands." Her body pops up, the excitement of getting what she wants showing on her face. "Needy little thing, aren't you?" I smack her ass as she saunters out of the bedroom towards the kitchen to down a large glass of water. She then moves to sitting room, where her pump is plugged in to charge and settles everything inside the bra. "Coffee?" I ask her as she adjusts things to her liking.
"Yes, please." I take out the new Moka pot and make us a fresh batch of coffee while she texts mum and Gemma about the girls.
"How are they doing?" I ask and she smiles.
"Lovely. Your mum's words."
I lean on the countertop, scrolling my own phone, coming across the unavoidable image of the two of us kissing at the fountain. "It's a really beautiful picture," I say out loud and turn my phone to show her. The illuminated sculpture is in full focus while Nola and I are blurry from me spinning her. You can see the outline of my face, but only Nola's backside with her hair flying in from the motion.
She looks at it and smiles. "I get to stay the mystery girl for another day." I hand her a mug filled with coffee and she downs it as she finishes pumping. I watch her carefully pour the liquid into bags and I label them for the freezer. It's become just another one of the domestic normalities in our everyday lives at this point.
"Yoga?"
"Yoga," she nods, walking behind me. "Start your timer, Styles."
We reach the room where I have everything set up. It isn't meant to be a gym, but Italian villas weren't really built with gyms in the 1700's, so it's more like a cellar that I put a mirrored wall, rubber floor and some equipment in.
The mats are laid out on the floor and we begin in a simple stretch before moving on to the circuit if movements we typically do when we practice together. We are both rather focused on the task at hand until the timer sounds. The beeping from my phone alerts me to our time being up and Nola immediately strips out of her clothing to stand naked in front of me. The reflection of her ass in the mirror even more problematic than her front-side facing me. Fucking hell.
"You promised."
I sigh and strip out of my tight pants and t-shirt, waiting for instructions because this wasn't my plan, though I'm not upset about it.
Nola saunters over to me and pushes me back onto the Pilates bench, hovering just above my body as she kisses me. "I just don't like to wake up in Italy without your cock inside of me." Come to think of it, that is how we have woken up, and fallen asleep, every day that we've been here. Sometimes the sex has been quick, sometimes it has been long and intentional, and sometimes it's been rough and fast, but every day has started with sex.
"I'm sorry to have changed the routine on you."
"No, it's good. Because you're usually awake before me, and therefore you are usually the one doing the waking up. Now it's my turn."
She pushes off my lap and kneels on the rubber mat covered floor between my legs. She laces her hands behind my back to pull my body closer to the edge of the bench. Then, her hands move down to my thighs, before she licks down the length of my cock and laps up the pre-cum with her tongue. Interesting. She doesn't swallow.
She takes me in her mouth and works me up to a nice peak, but then pops off. She stands and I scoot back on the bench, leaning my torso back onto my elbows as I watch her slink first her right leg, then her left, over my thighs. Her body finally sinks down on top of me and I inhale sharply, holding my breath until she bottoms out and I can release it. As the air leaves my lungs I throw my head back and laugh under my breath. How is this my life? How is this woman real?
I snap my head back to Nola, "I love you," I say as I she rocks her hips on top of me. I lay back so that I can use my hands to guide her; one on each hip digging in harsh enough to be on the edge of bruising her perfect skin where I'm gripping her beneath my fingers. I'm also enjoying the view of her supple breasts bouncing atop me from this vantage point. "Fuck me Nol," I curse out.
"Trying, H." She quips between breathy moans. She is so uninhibited right now. Letting me have all of her and I watch her come undone in a way I never have, then I notice she is facing the mirror.
"You like watching yourself riding me?" She nods, giving me a shy smile, having been caught. "Watch your face when I do this," I tell her and she follows my instructions as my thumb finds its way to her clit and the pace picks up as she nears her climax. "So fucking pretty, huh?" I say and she nods, taking fistfuls of her breasts in her own hands, rolling her nipples between her fingertips as her tummy roll starts before her entire body starts to shake on top of me.
I can tell she wants to keep watching herself, but she can't focus anymore. "Haaaarrrryy!" she moans out with her head falling back as I take over our pace because her body is overwhelmed. "I'm....I- I..."
"I know, love. Let go," I nearly demand and she falls apart on top of me, a convulsing mess of moans and body shakes like I've not experienced with her unless she was on top. Hopefully the fact that I came when she screamed my name out isn't a problem because it's done. I knew she was close and I couldn't hold back any longer.
Her rocking body slows and she eventually returns her gaze to me. "Now, I'd wake up for yoga every morning if it ended like that."
"I'm afraid we'd have visitors if we did that at home." I say and she nods at that before bending over to lay on my torso. "It was good, though."
•••••
Our destination this evening is Ale's private studio, where I brought the girls before. But tonight, it's all about my darling and Ale can't wait to get his hands on her.
I've had Ale bring pretty much the entire spring 2021 Overture collection for her, and I can't wait to see her try it all on and take it home with her. Clothes are really more my thing- like this would be my perfect date. I'm just hoping she is half as excited about it as I am.
"Nola!" Ale greets her with kisses to both cheeks before he turns to me. "Harry, she's more than you ever told me- so stunning."
Nola blushes at his compliment before he continues. "Your daughters were the perfect little angels when they were here with H. I've even got a few of their originals hanging up in my studio," he says, pointing to the drawings of a pig and dog that Mia and Lottie did, respectively. They are very-Picasso like in their messy lines and shapes, but they look perfectly placed in Ale's eccentric studio.
"It's so nice to meet you," Nola says, but her body language asks 'what the hell are we doing here?'
"Harry here has asked me to bring some pieces for you and there are a couple he designed for me to make with you in mind. Would you please come be our doll for an hour?"
"Umm..." she says, cautiously steering towards me. "This is all a bit much. What do I need all this for?" she asks me.
"Well, you are Harry Styles' girlfriend and as such, you will need some pieces for all the events you'll inevitably attend as Harry Styles' girlfriend," I say and she scoffs.
"Did you just refer to yourself in the third person?"
"Let's forget about him," Ale says, waving his hands towards me to dismiss me from my own date. He takes her to the back of the studio, where the dressing room is. "Harry, are you coming?" Ale questions and I catch up to them quickly. When she rounds the folding screen she can see two racks of clothes, all pieces there in three sizes, and I say a silent prayer that we guessed right (not that it was all guessing- I did snoop some, as well).
"All of these, Harry?" she asks, looking at the racks in the L shape at the back of the space.
"You don't have to like any of it, but I want to play dress up with you."
"WITH me? Where is your rack of clothes?"
Ale rolls the rack of my options in and she shakes her head. "His and hers wardrobes from Gucci. Of course. Why didn't I think of that?" she says as she pretends to tap her head like she forgot something. I saunter up to her and kiss her.
"Humor me. Humor Ale. Enjoy the night because it's not like we can exactly go shopping right now," I tell her and she understands what I'm saying, moving to the rack to look at her choices. I walk behind her and wrap my arms around her body, holding her with one and selecting a piece with the other. "Try this one, darling. It will look incredible."
"Why are there three?"
"I didn't..." I start nervously. "It's three different sizes. I didn't know exactly what to choose, so we decided to give you options."
"How thoughtful. Now pick something to try on, H."
We emerge at the same. What I'm wearing is not important, but what Nola is wearing is. She has on a sheer black long sleeve dress that has wildflowers painted around the base of the dress. Underneath is a set of signature black Gucci lingerie peeking though. It's delicate and sexy. "Gorgeous." Ale answers for us both with a chefs kiss.
"Seems I'm a size 40? Have no idea what that is because I'm not that size in EU."
"Italian sizing. They're samples, darling. It's not the number in the tag," Ale says but I can tell she's curious. "It's a size 4 in the US. 36 in EU. 8 in UK, but again, it's how it fits you, which is perfettamente."
"OK. Enough gushing. What's next?"
Next, she tries on another sheer dress with white sleeves and big watercolory flowers in greens and pinks. The sleeves bell out into perfect ruffles and she flows when she walks in it. Definitely another keeper. Then, a peasant style tunic that Ale ties with a red leather belt. Keeper. Finally, she comes out in a short white sweater dress with tiny black bows covering thick black corded tights with the quintessential Gucci heeled loafers on her feet. Again, a keeper. We're only halfway though the rack, but her phone has been buzzing non-stop so she takes a break to check it.
"What's up?" I ask her. Neither of us are concerned because if it was my mum to Gemma they would have called us. Seems her realtor has been busy this morning sending her houses to look through.
"Cooper sent some new houses through." With that sentence, our little afternoon fashion show turned into an afternoon of staring at greater-Malibu real estate options sitting around Ale's rather ancient computer.
"Where is the vineyard again?" I ask as she pulls up a map of the houses currently on her 'must see' list. I'm also doing this so I have a visual of where she is looking and where the vineyard is exactly. Her California life is still so much of a mystery to me, but I'm hoping that in the next month, or so, that will change.
She is the one to pull us from the house hunt and bring us back to the clothing hunt. "We still have half a rack of clothes to try on," she says as she stands up.
"You heard the woman," Ale says as he closes the laptop and follows Nola back to the dressing area. "Try this next, la mia bella," Ale says handing her some plaid wide-leg trousers and a soft sweater. She ends up trying on four more looks, liking two of them as well as two bags to go with multiple outfits.
"Are you taking all of yours?" she asks me.
"Yes. I ordered it all, and it was made to fit me. So, it needs to come with me." Ale boxes everything up and we get it situated in the car. We come back upstairs where he asks Nola more about her girls and her family, and she is blatantly honest with him, which just makes me even more angry about the call with Jeff this morning.
She doesn't have anything to hide and I'm not interested in him trying to push it anymore.
•••••
We've already reached the end of our time here in Italy. The morning, over breakfast on the flight back, I bring up some thoughts about her Malibu house. "So, the houses you were looking at in Malibu... Do they all have security features?" I ask, hoping that she allows us to look further into the specs. "I hate to ask that, but if we are going to spend time there together, which-"
She interrupts, "- of course we are going to be spending time there together, H. What do I need to be looking for?"
"Do you mind if I have Jeff send the houses to my security team? If we want to stay there without security. Really, even if you want to stay there with the girls b y yourself, I'd feel so much better if I knew that they were secure properties."
"That's fine, H. I was kind of hoping that you would maybe come and look at the houses with me? Once I get it down to two or three that I like? There's a good chance that you will be living there, too, for some of the year, at least." I can sense her anxiety around conversing about our uncertain future.
"Just tell me when to be there. Actually, I'll have Jeff send you my filming schedule for Don't Worry Darling. There are certain days I am on set, but there should be some time to house hunt with you."
"Are we really doing this?" she says, like she's having one of the mini freak-outs she used to have when we first met. "Like are you, Harry Styles, really going to help me pick out a house because you plan to stay there with me- as my boyfriend?" She shakes her head and turns to look out the window.
I lean over to kiss her cheek and she turns to me. "As the man who loves you and your EVENTUAL husband and baby daddy. Yes, I am really going to help you pick out the house. Then, I'm going to move in with you."
"Slow down there, Styles. The only title you have right now is boyfriend."
"From what I've hear, you don't do boyfriends, so I must be pretty special," I quip and she smiles.
"That you are, H."
~~~~~~~~~~
A/N: THEY SAID IT!! ARE YOU AS HAPPY AS I AM??
Songs: Feel It Still by Portugal. The Man, Cherry by Harry Styles and I'm in Love With You by The 1975.