When Samantha James becomes One Direction's personal assistant, she gets more than she bargains for. Falling for Harry Styles is one of them. But things aren't always easy or beautiful, because Sam has secrets--dark ones, and she'll do anything to h...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
I stood in the hotel lobby with my hand firmly grasped in Harry's, the stray fans at the front doors glaring at us as we did so. The black SUV pulled up in front and I took a deep breath, exhaling it slowly as I turned to Harry. "You can do this," he said.
Today was the day.
Today, for the first time in four years, I was going to be face to face with my parents. I hadn't slept at all the night before and I hadn't eaten a meal for two days. The only reason I was still standing was because Harry forced me to drink water and eat a protein bar at some point yesterday.
I nodded. "I know. Thank you."
He smirked. "For what?"
"Just... just thank you, Harry. I love you," I said. My voice was a bit shaky, my palms sweaty. I pulled my hand from his grasp, now self-conscious of our contact. He wrapped me up in a tight hug and left a lingering kiss on my temple.
His lips moved against my skin as he whispered, "It's going to be great. You'll see. I love you, too."
I pulled away from him and gave him a tight smile before marching forward. Preston trailed behind me. The few fans sticking around said little. I figured they were disappointed that Harry hadn't joined me outside. I stood at the open door of the SUV for a beat before stepping inside.
----
Three minutes.
I'd been standing in front of the familiar door for three minutes without moving. The house was exactly the same as the last time I had seen it, the brick siding showing a bit of wear and tear from the years. The windows looked new, curtains pulled tight to prevent anyone from looking inside.
There was a for sale sign in the yard, and there was a big part of me hoping that they had already moved and I was too late. God knows that I didn't want to do this today.
I raised my fist to knock and then dropped my arm, sighing. Which one of them would answer if they were home? I could imagine my father opening the door to see me standing here. He'd be surprised, but he wouldn't show it. He was a man of very little emotion unless it came to God.
If my mother answered the door she'd definitely start crying. She would maybe even yell at me. I hadn't hugged my mother in four years. A tiny part of me was hoping that she would hold her arms out if she saw me.
Nervously tucking a strand of hair behind my ear, I raised my fist again and knocked quickly before I could change my mind. I gulped, staying absolutely still so I could listen for any noises inside. A few moments passed and nothing happened. I knocked again.
