Matrimony Homies

9: Pearl (Harry)

Why am I nervous? It's just Loren.

Nevertheless, my entire body is one giant knot. My masseuse would have the time of his life digging his elbow into these tight muscles. I've definitely overpacked for this weekend, and I stuff as many of my items as possible into the boot of the Range Rover. Pacing back into my house, I check to be sure I've switched off everything. It's a ritual I usually do before I travel on tours even though I know my assistant will come behind me and double check everything. And hell, I'm only going away for one night. It's not like I'm travelling the world.

Should we talk about the fact that I've been awake since before the sun rose? Sleep was elusive because all I could think about was Loren and the privilege of being sat next to her in a car for two full days while we travel to potential venues. Will she tell me what happened? Will I get to hear the reason she's been so distant? Will we simply sit in silence? Will she screech at me about silly things?

But there are no answers yet. We've got to live through it first, and I vow to only nudge gently about the big issue. No ranting. I'll be charming and polite and as distant as she is. Yeah. That's the plan. Mirror her attitude.

Swinging by my favourite coffee shop, I pick up two coffees and two cinnamon rolls. The sweetness will not mix well with my current energy, but that's a bridge to cross later when I'm about to crash from my sugar high. As I approach her building, I briefly wonder what I'll do if she's not outside. Do I call? Knock on doors until I find her? But it's a moot point as Loren is stood in the parking lot next to a single rolling bag. Popping the car into park, I hop out and greet her.

"Good morning, Lor!" Leaning forward, I plant a kiss on her cheek a bit too exuberantly. Not what I had planned – or her either since a shocked look appears on her face. Moving quickly before she has a chance to slap me – or return the kiss – I grab her bag and roll it across the gravel to the boot, easily finding room for her single bag amongst my possessions. When I turn back to the front of the vehicle, Loren's already got her door open and one foot inside. I barely have time to register the cute jumpsuit she's wearing. It's blue with white flowers, and the bell bottoms fall just above her ankles. The look is complete with a white t-shirt, sandals, and a straw hat with a blue ribbon that matches the pale robin's egg blue of her outfit.

She is adorable.

Rubbing a hand over my face, I remind myself that we're doing this for Gemma. Nothing else matters. So then why is my stomach churning?

A few days before the XFactor audition, the Three Musketeers are sat on a bridge over the Dane River, our legs swinging back and forth.

"What song are you going to sing?" Gemma presses, like she's been doing all day.

"I don't know. What should I sing?"

"'Isn't She Lovely'!" Loren contributes.

"Maybe I'll do 'Torn'," I shrug. "I don't know. Maybe something older? Sinatra?"

"Definitely not Sinatra," my sister's head shakes, her ponytails bobbing around her face.

"What about Bruno Mars?" My voice shakes a bit when I suggest it because I'm not sure I can pull off the singer.

"Isn't She Lovely," Loren's voice chimes in again.

"Shit!" Gemma exclaims, scurrying up from her spot. "I promised Mum I'd get some bread for dinner."

"Get the good kind!" Her bestie calls.

"Aren't you coming?"

"Nope. Enjoying the quiet here with Harry. You go. By the time you get back, we'll have a song chosen."