The next morning, we lounge in bed for a couple of hours, snuggling against the cold and making out. What better way to fight off the frosty air? When we finally get up, I tell Harry, "there's a dress code where we're going today. You'll need to wear a jacket."

"Can I still wear jeans?"

I shrug. "Sure." I pull on gray tights and a short black sweater dress. "But you should put on a button down shirt." I wiggle my feet into my high-heeled black boots and stand up. Damn. My legs look really long.

Harry is staring down at my legs too, one arm in the sleeve of his crisp white shirt. "You look amazing," he exhales, finally pulling his shirt the rest of the way on. He shrugs on his gray suit coat and sits down to slide on his boots. I tuck my hair into a knot as he stands again. We look like our outfits were planned to match, black and gray.

"You look pretty damn good yourself," I kiss his cheek.

Again, my mother is waiting for us. But not at a table. She and Mike are standing in the lobby. "They said you don't have a reservation," she complains when we walk over.

I shake my head and step up to the host inside the restaurant. "Hi." He widens his eyes at me. "There are four of us," I hold up four fingers.

"Yes, Ms. Turner. Just a moment."

I turn to my mom, rolling my eyes, "they probably didn't believe we were eating together." She laughs. I have made my mother laugh. The guy comes back and leads us to a table outside, under a pergola. He hands us the menu. It is a three-course meal, with several choices at each stage. My mom and Mike exchange words behind her menu. I'm pretty sure I hear him say sixty-seven, which is the price per person. I wave my hand in front of them. "Please don't worry about the cost," I insist when they look up. "It's my pleasure to have you here with me."

Harry reaches for my hand, holding it under the table. I know he is probably just as freaked about the money as they are.

The waiter comes and takes our order. I choose the mini waffles with lemon curd and raspberry jam, a so-cal omelette, and chocolate cake. Harry opts for lunch, selecting a Cesar salad, a burger, and cobbler. My mom and Mike both order alcoholic drinks, and Harry coughs uncomfortably. I squeeze his hand, trying to convey that I am all right. I miss the rest of their order, but the food looks pretty when it comes.

While we're waiting, I hand my mom the chipmunk book. "Oh my gosh, Maddie. Where did you find this?" She flips through the pages.

"It was in Matt's stuff." She starts to hand it back to me. "No, keep it. I wrote it for you anyway. I want you to have it." She holds it to her chest, her bony hands folded over one another. I have never felt so...treasured by her. Why has it taken us so long to get here? Why couldn't she have shown me all those years? Maybe she did, in her own way, but my expectations veiled it. Like, maybe I only looked for a certain type of affection or love, and when I didn't see that type, I thought there wasn't any at all.

"Thank you," she whispers. Mike runs his hand over her back, smiling. "I always thought you would grow up to be a writer." Huh. Then why the fuck did you make me become an actor? Calm down, Maddie. Remember how you felt a minute ago when she was so happy. I smile at her. A real smile. I think.

The first dish comes, and oh my god. You don't understand. It's sweet and tart and fucking delicious. I actually moan at the table. Harry laughs, kissing my cheek. I feed him a bite, and he closes his eyes, savoring the perfection. I literally scrape the crumbs off the plate with my finger to eat them.

As we're served our main dishes, the LA talk show host comes over to say hello. "Maddie, how great to see you!"

"Hi, Penny. You too! You remember my boyfriend, Harry?" She nods and shakes his hand, beaming at him.

"Of course. You guys are as adorable as you were then." God I can't believe how long it's been. It was early October, not even a week into our relationship, when she met him before. And I already knew I loved him. Now, five months later, he's talking about fathering my children. I picture a little brown haired boy with dimples and green eyes.

I am smiling like a fucking idiot. I gesture toward my mom. "And this is my mother, Meredith and her boyfriend, Mike."

"Oh my goodness. It's so wonderful to meet you."

"You too," my mom takes her hand. "You have been such a great supporter of Maddie over the years."

Penny waves her hand dismissively, like it was no big thing. But it was. It is. "Maddie, your dad is coming on my show on Friday. I told the producers I didn't want to have him on, but they insisted. Anything you want me to ask him?"

I shake my head. "You can tell him I said to go fuck himself."

My mom blanches at my vitriol, but Penny laughs. "I might just do that." A dark haired woman with light blue-green eyes walks over. "Oh, this is my wife Eileen."

Eileen shakes hands with each of us, but as she gets to Harry, she says, "I love your music."

"Oh, um, thanks," he replies awkwardly. "How did you hear it?"

"We have watched that video on Maddie's youtube about a thousand times," Penny says.

"She directed that video," he rests his hand on my stockinged knee.

Penny smiles. "Sticking with film then?"

I shrug. "I think so."

"Do you have a demo?" Eileen asks Harry.

"Sort of. Not really," he runs his hand through his long hair.

Eileen presses, "I'd really like to hear more of your music."

Penny takes her hand, clearly proud, "Eileen is the head of Transcendentalist Records, an independent imprint at Columbia."

"The Gypsy Tavern," I tell her. "Friday." The first Friday of every month.

Harry shakes his head, smiling at me. He realizes it'll be another milestone, five months. I can tell by his smile.

"Well, I'll be there." She hands him a card. "I'm definitely interested in talking to your band about signing with us."

Harry gapes at her. "Okay. Okay, thanks." They wave and head back to their table. "Oh my god."

I rub his knee. "Awesome." He stares at me wide-eyed, shaking his head. "Love, that's incredible. The guys are gonna flip."

"Jesus. When did you put the video back up?"

I shrug. "The day after we got back together." I can't believe I ever doubted this boy.

After we finish our main courses, my mom asks me about my dad's book. "Are you going to read it?"

I stare at her over a forkful of chocolate. "No." I shake my head, putting down the cake. "Fuck that. I wouldn't spend money on that shit."

She frowns. "Maddie, do you have to use that language?" I just scowl at her. "Anyway, he told me he was sending you an advance copy. Did you not get it?"

How the fuck did he get my address? Jim. Asshole. I'm conveniently going to forget to have his kid come down to the set, as promised. I shake my head again, but Harry says, "it could be in one of those packages I picked up yesterday."

The waiter comes by and I ask him to run the check, handing him my credit card.

"Are you all right?" My mom asks.

I roll my eyes. "I have to be. I can't control what he does. I can't control the publisher." I wave my hand toward Penny and Eileen. "I can't control the talk show hosts giving him a forum. I can only control me. My reaction." God, I sound like Kline.

"You have a very healthy attitude about it," Mike says.

"Years of therapy finally kicking in." The waiter comes back, and we walk out to the valet station out front. I hug my mom and give Mike a small wave. "Next Sunday?"

"Yes. Sure." She looks so fucking happy. I had no idea it would be so easy to make her so happy.

When Harry and I get home, he digs through the packages on the counter. "I think this is it," he says, holding up a large, thick yellow envelope. "Should I open it?"

"You should burn it."

"Aren't you curious?" He tears the corner of the package away.

"No." He stops, holding the half-opened envelope. "I mean, open it if you want. I don't care. I meant, no, I'm not curious." He pulls it the rest of the way open and shakes out a hard cover book called Turned Around. I roll my eyes. God, what an ass. It's probably some fucking horrible story of redemption. How he was such a lost fucking soul, drinking away his life and now he's found god or my stepmom or whatever turned him the fuck around. I wonder if he told how he dislocated Matt's shoulder. Or tore up his homework. Or smashed my fucking piano. I doubt it. I fucking doubt it.

"Can I read it?" What. The. Fuck.

"I don't care." But I do. I walk away, back into the garage. I don't know why I feel so fucking angry. Maybe because Harry is supposed to be on my side. He's the one who is always supposed to be on my side. And reading that shit, that means he's not.

"Wait," he follows me. "Are you leaving?"

"No. I'm going to sort through Matt's stuff and see what I can donate and what I want to keep. It's time to get rid of these boxes."

"Okay. Do you want some help?"

I shake my head. "No, I'm good." I push open the garage door and start sorting through the boxes. Almost all of it is clothes and books. He had a handful of clothes I want to keep, T-shirts and flannels, which I set on the hood of my car. Everything else that's in good shape, I repack into the box for Goodwill. Then I sort through the two boxes of books. I have many of these already, but Matt has made notes in his. In a copy of one of the Harry Potter books, he literally wrote my name on several pages. I can't wait to read it and find out what made him think of me. I will have to add another set of shelves in the living room. I push the book boxes into the dining room and leave them there. Finally, I dig through the box of toys. There isn't much here. I seem to recall that he got rid of most of his stuff after my dad moved out, selling it in a garage sale to pay for some Boy Scout thing. I add everything to the Goodwill pile and tuck the boxes in the far corner.

Now I'm fucking filthy, dust and spiderwebs coating my hands, hair, and clothes. I strip off in the laundry room and walk the length of my house to the bathroom. Harry is sitting in our bed, reading my dad's book. "I'm gonna shower." He glances up nervously and nods, his brow furrowed. This boy. He is so sweet. God. Goddammit. I'm a fucking idiot. Of course he's on my side. "I love you."

"I love you, too. Maddie. Please tell me if this isn't okay," he holds up the book. If his fucking father wrote a book about their life, I would absolutely want to read it. Not that his dad and mine compare at all.

"It's okay. I don't think I could stand to read it, and I thought it bothered me at first that you wanted to, but it doesn't."

"Are you sure?" He sets it upside down in his lap, and I can see my father's picture on the back. Fucking asshole. He's all skinny and clean shaven now. He looks like Bill Murray. I wish Bill Murray was my dad instead of him.

"Yeah, I'm sure." I go shower, and when I come back, I pick up Matt's journal and continue reading where I left off. I am certain that I like his story more than my father's. Because I'm certain it's the truth. I start to doze off, reading the same few words over and over. I set the notebook on my bedside table and click off the light. Harry does the same with that stupid fucking book and his sidelight. Then he brushes my hair out of my face.

"I love you, Maddie." His lips caress mine.

I drape my arm over his waist, tangling our feet together. "I love you, too. How's the book?" My tone is bitter, like bile.

I can feel him shrug under my arm. "It's just his family history so far."

"Hm," I mumble, drowsing off to sleep.

Harry and I are up so early the next day for work. I can barely open my eyes, I'm so tired. Fucking period. I drop him at Sal's and continue down to the set. I only have a few weeks left of shooting. Every scene makes me want to cry. I can't believe I'm leaving all of this behind. At the end of the day, I sit Mitch down.

"I'd like to direct an episode next season."

"Finally."

I widen my eyes at him. "What?"

"I've just been wondering when you would finally say something."

"You could have offered..."

He shakes his head, grabbing my hand. "You infuriating girl. I did." He did? He did.

"When I was admitted to the university." He nods. "Fuck. I'm an idiot. I completely forgot."

"I'll send you next season's scripts once we have them, and you can select which episodes you want to do."

"Okay. You and Jenna should come to The Gypsy Tavern on Friday."

"Are you playing again?"

I shake my head. "No, just Harry's band."

"Okay, we'll be there."

I hug him and head off to pick up Harry and go to school, where Andre and I spend the whole two and a half hours locked in the editing room. It's difficult to get the right balance of sounds to convey the quiet in the house, but still keep it real. Andre is really good at this, though, and he manages to layer the background noise perfectly. And then I have that fucking music class. The professor's moved on to fifths and fourths and sixths and I just want to rip the fucking book apart. Into thirds. But literature is fine, and Harry and I spend another evening reading. And the next day, and the next, and the next, pass much the same. I can't even watch tv because my father's face is everywhere, promoting his book, his appearances on the talk shows. Fuck him.

Thursday afternoon, Andre and I stay later to finish the edit and submit the orange tree film. I'm really proud of it. That night, as Harry's reading, he turns to me, closing my dad's book, "it's really good. You should read it." Is he done?

I shake my head. "Not gonna happen."

"I think you would find it interesting, Maddie."

"Maybe I would, but I just don't care to hear...or read what he has to say." He runs his fingers over my arm and nods.

I wake up Friday feeling an odd mix of panic and relief. I'm done with the film about Matt, but my father looms in my thoughts. Curiosity is chipping away at my resolve.

Harry presses his body against mine as he wakes up, his hands skimming along my stomach up to my breasts. "Are you still bleeding?"

I blush, shaking my head. "Nope."

"Hmm." He kisses my neck, my ear, my cheek, and finally, my lips, taking my lower lip between his and biting softly. "What should we do this morning?"

"Practice."

"Perfect," he slides his fingers between my legs and in. "Baby, so easily aroused."

"Said the man who woke up horny." I grab his erection through his boxer briefs, tugging gently. He moans, pushing against my hand.

"Whenever I wake up next to you, I'm horny." Same. He pushes my panties down and climbs on top of me, parting my legs with his knees.

I roll my eyes. "Romantic."

"My wish, my dream," he murmurs, kissing me between each phrase. He lifts my hips and pushes into me. "My love." I moan, wrapping my legs around him and rocking my hips in his hands. "Steady, baby." He starts to move, slowly building a rhythm. I buck faster against his hips. I want to feel that friction. "Oh. Fuck, Maddie. Fuck." He comes. "Shit." He tips forward, pulling his hips away. "I'm sorry."

I kiss him, holding his face to mine, my tongue sliding over his lower lip and into his mouth. "Love, I know this might sound strange, but I kind of like that you can't hold it back." I comb my fingers through his hair, trying to soothe him. He rests his head against my chest. "Like, that's how good it feels. How good I feel."

"Oh, baby, you feel so good." He trails his fingers down my stomach and over the hair at the junction of my legs. "And I love you so much." He slips two fingers in, massaging that ache inside slowly. I move my hips again, pushing down on his hand. "And you just want it fast and hard today, don't you?" I nod shyly. He pulls his fingers out and slams them in again, and again, and fuck, it feels so good. Just as I am about to come, he stops.

"Don't stop," I whimper. "Why are you stopping?" He slathers the moisture from his fingers over his semi-resurrected erection, then pushes it into me again, moving slowly until it reaches full strength. And oh fuck, "oh fuck," once he is hard again, he thrusts so fast and so forcefully. It almost hurts. I lose my rhythm, my body loosening in a twitching finish. But he doesn't stop. He just changes position, lifting my leg over his shoulder, pounding deeper and faster. Jesus, I can feel it building again. I moan his name as I come. Again.

"Yes, baby, yes," he groans, spent. Again. He lays his head on my shoulder, his face sweating and his breathing ragged. "Better?"

"I mean, I guess." He smirks at me. I soften my tone, "Harry, my love, it is always amazing."

His smirk dissolves into the shyest smile. "God, Maddie. I love you so much. You have no idea."

I run my finger over his trace of a dimple. "Same."

His phone's alarm goes off. "We'd better go. Liam will be pissed if I'm late. I've hardly practiced with them lately."

We roll out of bed. "Were the guys excited when you told them about Eileen?"

He shakes his head. "I didn't tell them."

"What? Why?"

"Liam gets really nervous, especially if he thinks someone important is in the audience. He nearly couldn't perform at that first showcase when he realized you were there. But I guess our making out in the hallway was enough of a distraction to calm him down." I laugh, swatting at his shoulder. "Now, now, Miss Turner, you know what happens when you get violent." I dodge his reaching hands. I used to wish for that tattooed arm to reach for me, and now I am playfully running away from it. I love my life. I love this boy.

We rush to get ready, and I drop Harry and the guys off at school. And then on impulse, I drive down into West Hollywood and over to the Range Rover dealership. What if I was busy? What if I weren't around to drive Harry and the guys? What if we were to bring them to Disneyland with Anne and Gemma? We won't all fit. He should have his own car. I walk right up to the owner's office and ask to speak with him.

"Ms. Turner," he smiles, shaking my hand as his assistant shows me in. "It's been awhile. What can I do for you today?"

"Well, I need another Rover."

"Ready to trade up?"

"No. I need another one. I'd like the best you've got, black or charcoal gray. It needs to seat at least 6, and still have space in the back for equipment."

"We have a lovely new model, The Autobiography."

"Shut the fuck up."

He looks confused. "Excuse me?"

"I'm sorry. Forgive my language. Um, the car is called the Autobiography?"

"Yes, would you like to see one?"

"Sure."

He takes me out to the showroom. "As you can see, it is slightly larger than the model you drive." He opens all the doors, and I peek my head inside. "Plenty of room for passengers and for cargo," he waves his hand at the back compartment. It's much bigger than mine.

I nod. "Are all the safety features and interior amenities the same?"

"Better," he grins. "This vehicle includes all the standard airbags plus rear passenger airbags, which are automatically disabled with the use of child car seats." He goes on to outline all the various safety mechanisms and general luxuries of the model.

"Okay. You have one in gray or black?"

"We do. We have a gray so dark it looks black."

"Perfect. Let me call my bank. I'll have the funds transferred. I'd like it to be delivered today. As soon as possible, really."

"Yes, Ms. Turner. I'll start the paperwork. You can sign on delivery. I'll have the crew get the car ready now."

"Do you have those giant bows?"

"For you, Miss. Anything."

I head back home. Harry will probably be uncomfortable with this. But I don't care. I can't see a reason why we shouldn't have a second car. When I get there, I call Goodwill for them to pick up the boxes of items I'm donating. They'll be here in a couple of hours. I decide to go through my own closet and add more. The car arrives before they do, delivered by the owner's son, and I have him back it into the side of the garage where I've been parking. I sign the papers, and he hands me the keys. Before he leaves, he drapes a big red bow over the top and hood of the car. I head back inside to get ready, donning my Union Jack One Direction tee, and the folks from Goodwill show up just as I'm heading out to pick up Harry and the rest of his band. They take the boxes and offer me a receipt. I flip on all the lights in my garage so Harry will see the car right away. My phone chimes as I get in my old Rover.

H: Where are you? 💖

Me: Coming. 💖😘

H: Without me? 👆😉

Me: cheeky 🙈 be there in 5.

I back out and drive over to campus. The guys are loaded down with equipment when I get there. I open the back and they pile everything in. We drive down to Hollywood, and stop into a small pizza place for dinner before making our way to The Gypsy Tavern for the showcase. I am not surprised to see Mitch and Jenna, Lou and Becca. But I am surprised to see my mother. I hug each of them as we settle in to watch the earlier acts, one of which is Dave and Leah. Penny and Eileen slide into seats to the right of our table discreetly. I smile at them both. After the next band, the MC announces One Direction, "we have the great pleasure of having this British-Irish band back with us. They are too big for our britches, but we want them in our pants as often as we can get them." He looks out at the crowd, winking. I am dying, cracking up. "So we're going to give them just a bit more time. Welcome, One Direction."

Liam takes his place as the band's leader, introducing the songs. They start with Through the Dark, followed by Strong and Happily. I watch Harry, who looks out at me or at his hands on his bass. He said Liam would be nervous. He looks nervous. He's cute when he's nervous. Then they play Story of My Life and Something Great, with Dave joining them on stage. It's interesting to hear these songs without a broken heart. They are both really good. Story of My Life is so sad, but the harmonies are incredible. I wonder if they are thirds. And Something Great shows me how Harry still had hope even when I wouldn't fucking talk to him.

And then Harry says into his mic, "this is a new song, and our last tonight. It's called Fireproof." Liam picks at his electric guitar, then Niall adds in an upbeat rhythm on drums, almost a throwback sound. Like 60s pop or rock. Harry's bass and deep, raspy vocals join at the same time. "I think I'm gonna lose my mind. Something deep inside me, I can't give up. I roll and I roll til I'm out of luck..." I wonder if he wrote this back when we were apart. Niall sings the next verse, impressive given the beat he's maintaining, but it is the chorus that really blows me away. The harmonies are absolutely beautiful. Liam and Zayn sing so high and lovely. "'Cause nobody knows you, baby, the way I do, and nobody loves you, baby, the way I do. It's been so long, it's been so long. Maybe you were fireproof. 'Cause nobody saves me, baby, the way you do." We are fireproof. We are not ashes or rubble. Because nobody knows me like he does. And nobody loves me like he does. Nobody ever has. Harry sings the last couple of lines of the final chorus, his voice so strong and so raw. "Maybe we're fireproof. 'Cause nobody saves me, baby, the way you do."

And like every other time they've played, he jumps down off the stage and heads straight for me. He cups my face and kisses me. I run my fingers up into his hair, draping my arms over his shoulders. "No one has ever loved me the way you do, Harry."

"Oh, my love, my beautiful girl." He kisses me again. "No one has ever loved me like you do, Maddie."

"Twenty weeks." His green eyes glitter with his smile.

"Harry," Liam interrupts. "I'm sorry to cut in, but this woman from a record label wants to talk to us."

I beam at Liam. "You sounded great, Liam." He blushes, mumbling a thank you as he walks away.

"I'll be back." Harry walks over to the rest of his band and sits down with Eileen.

Mike and Mitch and Dave are talking about sports as I rejoin Lou, Becca, and Jenna. And my mother, who gushes over their music. "They're really good, Maddie."

"I know."

She leans closer. "He only has eyes for you."

I smile shyly at my mom, nodding. "Yeah." I stare across the room at him.

"And you for him," Jenna says, nudging me. I shake my head, laughing. "You guys are gross." You have no fucking idea. I laugh again at my wayward thoughts.

"Everything is good between you now?" My mom asks timidly.

I nod, resting my hand on hers. "Yeah. We're good. We're great." He and the guys come back from their talk with Eileen, their voices bustling with excitement, their faces all rainbows. Harry stands behind me, squeezing my shoulders. "How'd it go?" I look up at him.

"Great. She made an offer. We just have to read everything over."

"I can ask Karen to look at it, if you'd like."

He shrugs. "Maybe." He leans down to kiss me, his eyes mischievous. "Right now I just want to go home."

"Okay, my love. Let's go."

We say our goodbyes, load up the equipment, and drop the guys off at the duplex. As Harry pulls the car into the driveway, I press the button to open the garage. The headlights illuminate the front of the new car, the metallic red bow shining. "What the--?"

"I thought you could use your own car."

"Maddie," he exhales my name, that prayer. That incantation. "That's too much."

"If it makes you feel any better, it's in my name." I shrug. He frowns. "I would have put it in yours, but I don't know your licensing information."

"Jesus, Maddie. You're crazy." He puts the car in park and turns to look at me, his moonlit eyes sparkling.

"Crazy for you."

He leans across the center console and crushes his lips to mine. "I love you. But, baby, you have to return it."

I shake my head. "No, I think we really need it. When your family gets here next week, if we want to do anything with them and my mom and the guys, like Disneyland, we don't have space. Now, we do." He still looks skeptical. "Come look." I get out of my old Rover. "It has so much more storage space in the back," I open the hatch. "Your guitars and amps and even a drum set could fit. With everyone in the car."

He looks from the cargo area to me. "My crazy, beautiful, lovely girl. I am not going to argue. I think it's too much. But it's your car." He wraps his arms around me.

"Harry, it's our car," I insist. "Yours and mine."

His lips press against mine gently. "I love you."

"I love you." I fist his hair in mine and kiss him fiercely. "Harry," I breathe his name as a prayer. He pushes his hips into mine. I pull at the hem of his shirt. He lifts it up and off, and I run my fingers down his chest and abdomen to the waistband of his jeans.

"We should close the garage door." He kisses me, his tongue sliding over mine desperately. God, I want him right here in the back of this fucking car. I unbutton his jeans and push them down, palming him. "Fuck, Maddie," he moans. He dips down and picks me up, throwing me over his shoulder. He closes the car, presses the button to close the garage, and carries me into the house, past the laundry room. In the next room, he sets me on the dining table, pushing the place setting back out of our way. He tugs my jeans down my legs and off. His mouth finds mine again as one hand gropes my breast under my fan shirt. I lift my feet to push his boxer briefs down. He pushes my legs wider with his and thrusts into me. Fast and hard. Never breaking the kiss. He bites my lower lip as I come, moaning into his mouth. He braces both of my hips with his large hands as he speeds his pace, releasing into me. "I love you, Maddie. I love you so much. I will always love you."

"I love you, Harry. Always."

(Another A/N: I would love to hear which moments from the book so far have made you laugh out loud. Comment!)