A Heart of Gold

Chapter 8

Harry is standing on my doorstep. White t-shirt, bandana around his neck, seriously tight black skinny jeans and scuffed worn boots. I am dead.

He lowers his Ray Bans and chuckles softly. "Ready, love?"

He is backlit by the afternoon sun. It makes the ends of his hair glow. It highlights the gold flecks in his irises. It creates a shadow over his dimple that makes it look even deeper and I have to stop myself from putting my finger in it.

He motions toward the driveway and wakes me from my fog. I am confused, though, looking over his shoulder. Parked next to my little Honda is a black Jeep Wrangler.

"Expecting the Range Rover? Or the Audi?"

"I like this better," I smile.

"I figured. Didn't want you to bolt on me again."

"Yeah, that might've been a little much for me," I laugh. "Do you still have them, though?"

"Hell, yes. Wanting to reimage myself is one thing, but let's not get crazy!" He laughs, pulling me down my front steps toward the Jeep.

Harry has called me every day since our visit on the playground. He asked me questions and listened as I talked about my kiddos. I mostly tried to stay calm while feeling his slow, sexy drawl slink through my ear.

But mostly, he's asked to take me out. Like, every day. I certainly wasn't up for anything that would cause a scene so, after much negotiation, we settled on a low key Saturday afternoon drive up the coast.

What does one wear on a date with Harry Styles?

I'm glad I got up for a run this morning. I burned off some nervous energy and also feel ok now to wear these shorts. I picked a flowered off the shoulder top and my favorite flip flops. I keep it "teachery" Monday through Friday, but am definitely a beach bum on the weekends.

Now, what does one bring?

I guess a little bit of everything. He wasn't specific about what we'd be doing or how long we'd be out, so I threw a few snacks, waters, a sweatshirt and some other stuff in a tote.

"Running away, are we?" he teases, as I toss my bag into the back seat. He's got nothing in here and I've practically packed a suitcase.

I feel like there is an imaginary chart of two long columns, that lists the many differences between us. My name heads one column that lists, 'ordinary,' 'self-conscious,' and 'worrier' and Harry's is on the other side listing the exact opposites. I'm trying, really trying, to crawl across that line that separates us.

I am so excited, though, about today. Driving along the coast on Highway 1 is one of my absolute favorite things to do- it is a truly awesome feeling to be on the very edge of the continent. And to be with Harry, well...

Riding here, between the ocean and the mountains, it is easy to fall into a blissful trance as mile after mile of clear blue skies take my breath away. I love to breathe in the salty air from my left as the ocean lulls me with its rhythmic waves kissing the sandy beach. It always smooths my ruffled edges.

The moss covered mountains on my right feel sturdy and protective, absorbing the heat from the sun and radiating it's comforting warmth back to me as I pass.

Sometimes, though, the road can frustrate me, curve and wind, and only offer me peeks and glimpses of what lies ahead. There are days when I can't see everything that is before me and I feel impatient. The road can force my car to its very outside edge and makes me feel as if the cliff might crumble beneath me, sending me tumbling into the ocean below.