Reese

Nadine

Trace

Justin

Drake

“I’m just saying, that’s all!”

“Well don’t!”

Reese glared unappreciatively at her best friend as she pulled the car to an abrupt stop at the market. They’d had this argument one too many times. Most of the time it had been with some kind of humour attached, but now it was starting to grate on her last nerve; as much as she loved the woman in her passenger seat, she needed to shut up. Still, she knew all would be forgiven and forgotten within the next ten minutes. After a lifetime of friendship she and Nadine had always been able to count the number of arguments they’d had on one hand.

That was until the last six months or so, when they had run out of hands.

“Sorry!” Nadine threw her hands up in despair, trying to look chastened. “I mean, I know you’re touchy about it honey, but the demon will have to be faced sometime. This is a small town, you know, it’s hard to avoid people.”

“Why’d you think I’m moving?” Reese joked as she pulled her purse onto her shoulder and stepped out of the car.

Nadine shook her head at her friend as she threaded her arm through hers and they started striding into the store together, Reese haphazardly pointing her key fob behind her to lock the car. Nadine dwarfed Reese, a good four inches taller, and Reese’s rounded face and curly dark hair looked nothing like Nadine and her auburn pixie look. Nobody had ever remarked that the two looked like sisters, but it had often been said that they moved and held themselves in a scarily similar way.

They were synchronised in their strides as they strolled into the store, making a list out loud of all the things they would need for the evening. Technically everything should have been bought already, but nobody in the history of the town had ever managed to throw a party without attendance doubling in size at the last minute. It just wasn’t done to exclude anybody from the guest list, and for some unfathomable reason it just wasn't done for people to accept until the morning of the shindig when everybody would stop by the house asking if there was anything they could bring. 

There were a couple of people Reese would have liked to exclude from the guest list, but she was too set in Shelby ways to ever extend anybody the discourtesy - as much as she would have loved to.

“Cutlery?” Nadine asked.

“Yep. We oh so classy Benningtons are going to provide our guests with the finest in cheap ass paper plates and plastic forks. Never let it be said we don’t shell out.”

“Never let it be said you do the dishes, either.”

“Disposable all the way, baby,” Reese grinned broadly as she remembered that she was wearing sunglasses indoors and pushed them on top of her head. “Umm… Mom said to get some more soda, too, said there were a ton of kids coming.”

“Despite the fact you specified adults only?”

“Yep,” she responded as Nadine idly stopped to examine what was on offer, drink wise. They were going to have to make a stop at a liquor store for some more wine, but soda was so much cheaper if you bought it on a three for two deal – even more so when you bought a cheap brand to begin with in protest at the uninvited children.

Reese rubbed her hands over her face, grimacing slightly. Party planning gave her a headache, which probably explained why she’d had a migraine for pretty much the last six months. She hated hosting – she found it far too stressful. It seemed like you could never enjoy your own parties for fear of whether or not everybody else was enjoying themselves, and on top of that she hated being the centre of attention and having to mingle so much. She’d always been more the type to hide in the corner with a good friend and some of the booze, cackling away at the other guests; Nadine was good for that.

Nadine was good for a lot of things. She was good for a laugh and good for a cry. She was good for letting your hair down in a club or curling up on the sofa along with their favourite men, Ben and Jerry. Nadine was great for advice and friendly support. She was less great at keeping her mouth shut about things she disapproved of, or at keeping time. She was responsible for Reese’s pretty curls (she had magic hands with a curling iron), but she was dreadful at manicures.

She was pretty good as an early warning system, too.

“Don’t look now, sweetie, but your fav-our-ite person just walked in with his goon.”

It was the sarcastic way she dragged out her syllables that indicated whom Nadine was referring to. Reese kept a steady eye on the deli, simultaneously wondering if she needed to get any more chips and dips and why the hell he was home. Last time she had checked, he wasn't due home for months – the timing of the party had been calculated to slot into a long absence. It hadn’t been the sole rationale for the date chosen, but it ranked at about number three on the list.

“Wow. He does his own shopping now? Who’d have thought,” she cracked with a not quite hidden piece of bitterness.

“I’m betting he does his momma’s shopping and that’ll be all,” Nadine said with a raised eyebrow. “You know he’ll have palmed his dirty work off on whichever whore he’s dating now.”

“Didn’t think they’d want to break a nail, from the look of any of ‘em.” Surreptitiously, she looked down at her own criminally short nails and gave a grin to herself. “Anyway, we’ll just keep our heads down and he doesn’t even have to see us. Who gives a shit?”

“Umm…” Nadine shifted uncomfortably. “You don’t think he’d…”

“What?”

“Crash?”

“The party?”

“Yup.”

“Like his momma would let him,” Reese said through an oddly high pitched laugh.

She couldn’t bring herself to tell Nadine that he’d been invited. Sure the entire party was designed so that he’d be unable to attend, it was going to be awkward enough entertaining his parents and she still actually liked them, but she had unable to bring herself to be mean enough to do it. In Shelby Forest, snubbing somebody by party invitation was a big deal. The community was too small and close knit, absences from such events were noticed and explanations for them never stayed quiet for very long. Refusing to extend hospitality was a cardinal sin - people gossiped and before you knew it you were the meanest person in all the land.

Reese refused to let such a slur on her reputation be made on his account. So she had gritted her teeth, swallowed her bitterness and included his name on his family’s invitation along with those of his parents. She was now trying to swallow the paranoid whisper in the back of her head saying that this trip home was not coincidental.

“Whatever. Ass.” Nadine’s eyes narrowed into murderous slits for a brief instant, before she beamed brightly and shrugged the moment off as quickly as it had come. “So, did your mom need any more dessert ingredients?”

“Trust you to think only of dessert.”

“What else would her fat ass think of?”

Reese’s eyes rolled heaven ward, her lips forming a silent ‘why’ to her God but refusing to turn around and face the owner of the voice. Nadine, to her credit, completely ignored him. Instead she continued to browse the list and plan out which aisles they were going to have to hit next.

“Oh, and she said more rolls, right?”

Her friend nodded. “Yep, oh and Nade, can you go to the florist while we’re decorating? They messed up the invoice and we need to redo the whole order and I have to run to pick up my grandma as well – you know what the arrangements are supposed to be, right?”

“Yes, you only forced me to sit with you for three hours while you obsessed over them.”

“Now now, ladies, is that any way to greet old friends? Ignoring them?”

That did actually make Nadine turn around, her long skirt swishing prettily around her ankles as she did so. “No, but I don’t see any friend of ours around so that actually works out.” She gave a big beaming smile and then turned back to the shelves, pulling out some salsa dips to add to the growing pile of chip bags in the cart.

Reese gave an evil smirk as Trace’s mouth began to open but then was forced to shut once more, unable to think of anything snappy enough to come back with. He really did look like a goon as he did so – much as she hated to admit that he was pleasant enough when not being so easily led by his best friend, the guy had never been a great wit. To his credit, he looked ashamed of his companion’s fat comment.

She couldn’t help tensing up as a longer, leaner frame than Trace’s came into view, a hint of a Rolling Stones logo flashing before her as his t-shirt clad torso wandered into her line of vision. She had been purposely keeping her back turned on him, but he was now leaning on her shopping cart with a jaunty grin. It occurred to her that any fan seeing a paparazzi photo of him in this situation would probably be gushing over how sweet and friendly he looked. She, however, knew him better than that. A glimmer of menace glittered behind his deep blue eyes, and she couldn’t help feeling her shoulders tighten in preparation for the blow.

There was always a sting in the tail with him.

“Hey peanut.”

“We’re talking to the foodstuffs now?” Nadine asked Justin as Reese remained silent, bristling at the old nickname. It was weird; the Reese’s Cups thing had seemed so cute while they were dating. Now it made her want to smack the stupid out of him. “Clearly been putting too much of that ill deserved cash up your nose.”

Reese silently promised that she was going to treasure the woman for the rest of her days for that comment. It was easier if they could play quiet cop bad cop in this situation – she had no desire to talk to the guy.

“Great to see you too sweetheart,” he sneered at Nadine before turning his attention right back to Reese, exactly where she least wanted it. She hated the way he was leaning over her, invading her personal bubble and clearly loving her discomfort. “So, I hear congratulations are in order.”

“Behind the times, then,” she tried to respond lightly. “Guess you always were a little slow.”

You know me,” he shrugged amiably. “Never liked to listen to meaningless gossip.”

She barely had time to wonder what the hell he meant by ‘meaningless’ when she noticed Trace slinking off into the background, clearly bored already by the conversation. Foolishly she hoped this would have meant Justin’s disappearance too, but the ex love of her life seemed in no hurry to leave. Testing the water, she gently guided the cart out from under his grip and meandered down the aisle in search of crackers for the cheese platters… no, he was still following her.

Trying not to audibly or visibly sigh, Reese decided that like a good wax she was going to have to get this over with quickly rather than drag it out. Sadly for her this would entail completely opening herself up to whatever it was Justin was waiting to say, however, she decided it would be best to get it over with now rather than later. At least if it was too horrible she could let an anonymous rumour circulate back to his mother that he’d attacked her in the grocery store. That ought to earn him a good hiding.

“Nade, can you go do the desserts while I get the plates and stuff?”

Nadine was about to protest most strongly, but she caught the resigned look on her friend’s face and immediately got it. As much as she wanted to elbow Justin out of the way and drag Reese off into the next aisle – possibly while throwing canned goods at his head – she knew from long and sour experience that it was little use trying to warn her off dealings with the man. After all, she hadn’t managed to stop her from dating him.

“Sure. It was great to see you Justin. Oh, and by the way, love the new album. You sound just like The Jonas Brothers. Toodles!”

Reese briefly considered that maybe it was Nadine she ought to be marrying when suddenly she felt her hand being picked up. At first she thought he was trying to make her uncomfortable with the contact, but then she saw that he was actually examining and playing with her engagement ring. There was a scarily expressionless look on his face.

“Nice,” he said dismissively, dropping her hand. “Must have cost him a year’s salary, but a hundred bucks well spent.”

Reese glowered angrily, her face betraying the reaction he’d been looking for. Who cared if her fiancé didn’t make huge amounts of money? As far as she was concerned being an overworked and underpaid mechanic was better than peddling a false image of a decent human being to pre-pubescent girls while thrusting in their faces and bedding whichever one he could get his hands on. It was absolutely typical – he’d started with the insults without even a moment’s pause.

“Well, you know, it was less expensive than my last one but it came with a much better package.”

Naturally his dirty mind jumped him into the gutter. “I seem to recall you enjoying the package, sweetheart. Sure moaned loud enough.”

“Actually I was referring to honesty, decency and generally not being a worthless son of a bitch - but come to think of it that other package is much better too.” She leaned in conspiratorially. “No good having it if you don’t know what to do with it, huh Justin? Not that it ever stopped you trying with everything that moved.”

To hell with doing this silently, she was now looking for a fight. It failed to cross her mind that it was exactly what he wanted out of her, but she was too angry. He was enjoying every second of this interaction, and he particularly enjoyed the livid expression her pretty face had contorted into. He licked his lips unconsciously at the sight of her plump pink ones twisted into the scowl, and the blazing eyes amused him.

“So, peanut, I’m really looking forward to meeting the husband to be. I take it you guys are shopping for the party now? Mom can’t wait.”

Reese was fuming, completely fuming. He had just reminded her exactly why she had to let him show up to ruin her entire engagement party; their mothers had been friends forever, and Lynn Harless had been nothing but lovely to her even after she had turned around and refused to marry her son.

She only wished she had been able to bring herself to tell the doting mother exactly why.

“Yes, we’re shopping for the party, and I’m looking forward to seeing your parents. Such lovely people, shame about the son.” She turned her back on him angrily, scanning labels furiously but unable to remember precisely what she was looking for.

Deciding to dispense with the pretence, Justin grabbed her by the waist: fingers digging painfully into her hips. His force scared her, but the way she had frozen into place scared her more. By all rights she should be slinging a left hook right now – and four brothers meant she had a mean one. She felt his eyes burning the bare skin of her shoulders as his fingertips gripped the material of the cute little sundress she’d thrown on over her jeans – now she was wishing she’d worn body armour.

Justin was breathing heavily into her ear, feeling how in control of the situation he was and how much she hated it. He let his eyes trail down her neck and into the small amount of cleavage the floral dress was exposing. Only a year ago, had they been in this situation she would have happily been letting his hands wander everywhere. As it was, she stood rigid in front of him and a nastier part of him was satisfied to see it. His stomach was churning through the sensation, pins and needles in his hands where they held her.

He planted a soft kiss on her cheek, feeling her physically flinch as he did so. He abruptly let go, leaving her dazed, infuriated and more than a little bewildered. Sure she’d wanted him to get whatever he had planned to say over with, but this was just strange.

“Well, I guess I’ll see you at the party and we can catch up some more. Looking forward to it - came an awful long way just to be there.”

Justin winked at her, getting only her horrified expression in response, then turned and walked away. Reese couldn’t help but physically quiver, literally shaking with rage. She had known in her heart of hearts he wouldn’t be able to resist showing up if he was in town, but she had never dreamed for a second that she would be the reason he’d flown back.

Or was she? Was he messing with her head for the millionth time? It wouldn’t exactly be his first lie…

“Umm…”

She nearly jumped sideways into the shelving at the sound of the awkward voice.

“Fuck, Trace, lurk much?”

She dispensed with any pretence of civility, despite the fact that she had once upon a time been friends with him entirely on his own terms and had only ended that friendship in grounds of his association with Justin. Nadine had never liked Trace – hence the sarcastic greeting – but she had. Once upon a time, she’d been very fond of both men. Times changed.

“Umm…” He scratched the shaven head that matched his best friend’s, shifting awkwardly from foot to foot. “Umm… I know he’s being an asshole…”

“He’s been an asshole, he’s being an asshole, he IS an asshole Trace,” Reese said tiredly, deflating almost as quickly as she’d fired up.

“Yeah, but he’s my friend, and…”

“More fool you.”

“Reese!” Trace exclaimed, irritated. “Look, I know he fucked up with your relationship and he’s being a bastard now, but… he’s only doing this to get to you, you know.”

“Why exactly are you telling me this instead of being a man and telling him instead of kissing his ass?” Angrily she remembered she’d been after crackers, and she roughly pulled some off the shelves and tossed them into the cart behind her, brain slowly beginning to function properly again. “And why exactly would he be trying to get to me? Not like he ever gave a shit.”

A wry but tired grin etched itself along his mouth, and he shook his head at her. “If he didn’t give a shit why would he bother? Think about it.”

Reese laughed derisively, hating herself for noticing that Justin was now striding out of the exit. Oh well, so long as he was away from her. “It doesn’t matter. It’s not like I give a shit what he thinks. I just don’t see him as the type to give much of a damn about the women he’s finished screwing over.”

“I didn’t see you as the type to get engaged to a guy after knowing him for a month.” Trace shrugged affably, smiling at her and clapping her gently on the shoulder. “Guess we can all be wrong, huh? I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m happy if you’re happy, but… it’s just kind of unlike you, that’s all. You shocked the shit out of us.”

Before she could register the ‘us’ part of his phrasing to wonder who was included in that, he was interrupted by his cell phone going off. As he pulled it out to see who was calling, Reese clocked the name on the screen and had to roll her eyes. She ought to be thankful really, Trace had been starting to sucker her in with the fake concern. Justin really would stoop to anything.

“Better go home, Fido, master’s calling you to heel.”

Inwardly giving up but determined not to fight any more with her, Trace pushed the end call button without answering. It was probably the first time in a month he’d refused one of Justin’s calls. “I’ll see you at the party later, sweetheart. I can’t promise to make him behave, but I swear I’ll try.”

Stunned, uncomfortable and oddly drained after the interaction of five measly minutes, Reese stood dumbly in front of a row of Oreo packets until Nadine came bounding up, arms laden with baking ingredients and launching into her usual tirade on why Justin Timberlake was the result of generations of inbreeding accidentally switched at the hospital with Lynn’s real son.

“I’m here, I’m here!”

It was like a tornado had just blown in. One moment Reese was standing in her parents’ kitchen, slicing crudités, the next her fiancé had fallen through the door in a mad rush. He was looking wildly around, as if he expected catastrophe. His behaviour was more akin to somebody trying to defuse a bomb with ten seconds on the clock than a simple man who was arriving at his engagement party. Giggling, she dropped the knife and moved over to him, picking up the blue tie that hung loose around his neck and beginning to fix it for him.

“What’s the matter baby, cops on your tail?”

“Am I late?”

She couldn’t help it; it was the panic on his face that was making her laugh at him. Maybe she’d gone overboard with the threats earlier. “Five minutes, it’s not crucial.”

“Oh thank fuck.” Drake let out a long held breath, shoulders slumping as he pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Milly Cooper showed up at the last minute and I was thinking I wasn’t going to have time to shower.”

“Again?”

“Either she wants me or she needs an eye exam. Nobody manages to take off their wing mirror that many times in two weeks.”

“Well she can’t have you.” Tightening the knot and then smoothing down his collar, she reached up to give him a peck on the lips. “Ready to mingle?”

“Do we have to?” He pouted and yet again it made her want to laugh. A lot of his habits made her laugh.

Drake was simply not the type for ties and family parties and making small talk with the neighbours. Her parents had insisted on throwing a more formal party to celebrate the engagement (something she suspected was more for her mother’s sake than hers) but he would have been happy inviting a few friends to the bar and having some beers. That was what she found so refreshing about him; she’d grown up in a nice cosy middle class world with all its polite but awkward traditions, he had grown up too busy working to learn his Ps and Qs. People had raised their eyebrows when they got together, politely commented that the two of them made an ‘interesting pair,’ but everything that surprised them about her choice was what she loved about him. He had no airs and graces, he might not know the etiquette but she knew his intentions were solid. She liked his rough edges. When the worst thing you could say about a man was that he swore a little too often, you knew he was a keeper.

To be fair, the muscled torso and abs certainly helped. A life of manual labour and lifting heavy car parts around had toned her boyfriend up nicely as well as meaning that her car repair bills went down considerably.

“Sadly yes.”

“You sure? We could always sneak out…”

“And if we weren’t the bride and groom I’m sure nobody would notice, but unfortunately we’re the animals at this zoo and there’s no show without us.”

Drake let out a groan before wrapping his arms around her. Reese happily snuggled into the hug, breathing in his lightly scented soap. For that moment, all was well and she was content – it would be stepping back into the other room to meet the hordes who had started coming through the door that she was dreading. Being the centre of attention was not her favourite thing. She was particularly concerned about Justin’s threat to attend, but she had no idea how to bring the subject up. While her husband to be was aware of their past relationship, he knew very little about it and absolutely nothing of the break up. He’d managed to deduce that it had gone badly, but then a complete stranger could have worked that out; it was probably the way she started visibly fuming whenever Justin’s name was brought up that gave it away.

“You given any more thought to that whole eloping thing? Would save us more of this.”

“I’d love to, but Mom would kill me and you’re too young to be a widower.”

“This is the upside to hating the parental’s guts, no need to please.”

“I never thought I’d envy you on that score,” she groaned before picking the knife up and hurriedly slicing a few more vegetables before deciding there were enough on the platter.

“Well if it helps at all, you’ll look really pretty while you’re entertaining the crowds.”

“Thank you.” She gave a smile and a little blush as he left another kiss on her face. After no less than two hours of changing her mind, she had settled on a teal shift dress. If she’d had her way she’d have gone with Drake’s idea of casual wear, but her parents had cajoled and needled and prodded until she’d given in. It had been victory enough convincing them to have a party at home rather than hiring a hall and making a fuss, so she had figured that she would put up and shut up. This was the price of being an only daughter in the middle of a pile of sons – they only got to be parents of the bride and in charge once so they were determined to do it ‘right,’ whatever that meant.

“Red alert, red alert, the bastard has landed. Oh. Not you.”

“Hey to you too, Nadine.” Drake had what Reese liked to call his ‘Nadine expression’ and he was wearing it in that moment – it was a mix of bemusement, bewilderment and mild wariness. They got along well, but she was so gregarious that she overwhelmed him on occasions. He was the low key type.

“Bastard, Nade?” Reese asked quizzically.

“He crashed.”

“Who?” Drake asked.

“The ex.”

“Oh.” He frowned. “Is that a problem?”

“Only in that having an asshole around dampens everybody’s party spirit.”

“It’s fine,” Reese said with a warning glance at Nadine. The last thing she needed was Drake getting it into his head that Justin’s presence was a big deal – then he’d have to ask why and that was the route to jealousy and suspicion and drama. Even if the mere proximity of him was enough to make her head want to explode, as far as she wanted anybody else to know it was just peachy.

“Hmm. Can I hit him?”

“No.”

“Trip him?”

“No.”

“Spill a drink down him?”

“No.”

“Spoil my fun.”

“Remind me never to piss you off,” Drake said as he grabbed the plates before Reese could, carrying them for her.

“You’ll learn to love me!” Nadine replied brightly.

“You’ve been saying that a while now, how long’s it take?”

With a twinkle in his eye he winked, and she pretended to mull it over. “It’s a delicate process. Come on, people, time to party.”

The happy couple managed to groan in tandem.

***

“So you all talked out or what?”

“Oh my God.” Reese rolled her eyes as she turned to face Kate. Kate was an old school friend of Reese and Nadine – she had since moved a few towns over and was busy having babies so they didn’t get to see each other often, but still they were close enough that niceties were superfluous. “Just kill me now. Or just gag me so I can’t talk any more.”

“God, I remember this,” Kate smirked. “Only it was full of elderly relatives and I spent most of the night hearing about the food being too tough for their teeth and how it wasn’t like this in their day, they were lucky if they could afford a new pair of hose for the ceremony.”

“Wow.” She paused. “I’m so not sorry I missed that.”

“Traitor. Friends are supposed to provide back up in these situations.”

“By back up do you mean booze?”

“No, but now you mention it that’s a good plan. More red?”

“Please.”

There was a momentary pause as Kate reached for the wine bottle and began to pour for them both. Reese’s eyes scanned warily around the party. As much as she was making a show of complaining, it really hadn’t been that bad; people had been friendly, there weren’t too many folk she couldn’t stand in the room, it really could have been worse. Drake was obviously out of his element but trying gamely, and most people had commented on it being a nice party; the chatter was loud and liberally sprinkled with laughter, so she estimated that at least some of them were being sincere. Still, she couldn’t wait for the moment that she and Drake could cut out and go home to bed. Maybe she was turning into an old married lady already, but snuggling up and having an early night sounded good.

“Oh crap!” Kate had managed to lose her grip on the bottle and spill some down herself.

“At least it was your skirt and not my mom’s rug.”

“Bitch. Be back in a sec.”

“You need any help?”

“I’m fine!” Kate waved a dismissive hand as she walked away without even turning around.

Reese sipped her wine pensively. It seemed like wedding planning and festivities and engagement was all a very big hassle in order to get to the point and be married; that was a massive turn around from her last foray into matrimony. Back then she had been all about the plans, designing expensive bouquets with the florist and jetting all over the place looking for the perfect dress. Having an infinitely smaller budget this time around would have prevented her from doing those things anyway, but the fact was she didn’t want to. She was just itching to be married already and would have happily taken Drake’s suggestion of eloping if she hadn’t known it would deprive her mother of the event she’d been planning ever since she’d known she was finally having a baby girl and not another boy. In her heart she knew that her mother wouldn’t stand in the way if that was what she told her she wanted, but despite her complaints about her parents’ expectations she did genuinely want to include them. So, she kept right on wedding planning and meeting caterers and viewing venues and ignoring the headache which told her she didn’t like organising.

“So explain something to me, peanut.”

A mental ‘Oh God’ formed on her lips but never found its way out as she turned slowly to face her nemesis.

“Justin,” she said evenly.

“He’s not from around here, right?”

“If you’re referring to my fiancée, he has a name.”

“Uh-huh. But he’s not.”

Letting out a sigh, she took a gulp of wine to steel herself. Like the supermarket incident hadn’t been bruising enough. Still, as it was then so it was now; it was best to get it over with as quickly as possible.

“Not originally.”

“You can tell. It’s like you set a monkey running loose around the place. You have to feel for the dude, has to be awkward having so few social skills.”

“Well I appreciate your pity but there’s no need. Just because you’re an incurable snob with his head up his ass doesn’t mean the rest of the town are.”

Too late she realised that the tack she should have taken was defending her man instead of attacking Justin. Now looking at the evil grin on his face she could almost hear what he was thinking – that she hadn’t disagreed with his assessment of Drake.

“Seems kind of cruel of you putting him through it. But then you always were the consummate little hostess, be a shame to let him hold you back.”

“Oh, you flatter me,” she said bitingly. “I wasn’t half as good as you. Strutting around like a peacock was always your talent.”

Reese delighted in seeing that she’d finally landed a hit. It was only a momentary waver in his spiteful expression, but waver it was. Justin had always had a good poker face, she had to give him that, but seeing it drop even for a second let her know that what she said had actually got to him. It was petty and wrong of her to take so much comfort in seeing it… but he’d started it. And she didn’t care if that excuse meant she was behaving like she was still on the playground, he’d started it. Suggesting that his only talent was preening and looking good was a low blow, playing on every last insecurity he’d ever confided about his fame, but if Justin wanted to start a fight he had no cause to complain when he took a punch.

Before Justin could open his mouth to reply, she heard the tinkling of a knife against a glass and the distinct hollering of her father ordering the partygoers to “shut the heck up,” much to everybody’s amusement.

“Now, where’s my daughter and soon to be son in law?”

As much as she hated speeches and being the centre of attention, Reese was more than happy to scoot up to the fireplace to stand next to her father; it was a fabulous way to cut short the slanging match. Drake wasn’t far behind, quickly shaking her father’s hand and then taking hers.

“Well, I’d like to welcome you all to our home and thank you for being here to celebrate this very special occasion with us.” John Bennington was so used to public speaking in his role as a college professor that making speeches was of little consequence to him; his warm Southern drawl filled the room effortlessly.

“Y’all know that we’re here tonight to celebrate the fact that my little girl is finally being taken off my hands…” Loud laughter rang through the room. “Now, I couldn’t be happier that she’s so happy, but I must admit that like every protective father, I’ve been nursing a few concerns about my prospective son in law. Is he financially stable, does he have a good head on his shoulders, is he good enough for my baby, he’s from Atlanta so is he one of those damn Hawks fans…”

“Grizzlies rule!” Drake pumped a fist in the air and the whole room applauded.

“Well, thank you for letting my mind rest on that score son…” John clapped him on the back. “Still, we’ve decided that ain’t enough. Before you can have our formal blessing, we as her friends and family need you to answer a few questions.”

“Whatever you heard about that police car is a damn dirty lie.”

Yet more chuckles rippled through the room, and Reese felt a warm glow hit her face.  He was charming the pants off of everybody, and she couldn’t be more thrilled. A lot of people were only meeting Drake for the first time that night, and it was important to her that they liked him. She knew all too well that it was easy to look at his shaved head, scruffy demeanour and imposing stature and decide that he was trouble purely based on his appearance. The swearing and lazy drawl didn’t help on that front. He looked like he ought to be one of those boys your momma warned you about; she had quickly been proved wrong, however, and now she wanted everybody else to approve of him too.

“Now, young Nadine helped me with this list, so if any offence is caused to any parties then blame her. Question one was the Hawks but that’s already been answered… question two, Johnny Cash or Willie Nelson?”

“Umm…” Drake scratched his head. “Way to start with the tough one… Cash.”

“Correct! Question three, steak or crawfish at a barbecue?”

“Why would you choose when you can have both?”

“Man after my own heart. Okay… now Nadine’s questions are a little more, uhh, hypothetical. She felt you needed to display some knowledge of how to handle our girl here, so just tell us what you would do in the following situations.”

“God, it’s like social studies all over again.”

“You’re about to go wine and dine your lovely lady when disaster strikes – she breaks the heel on her favourite shoes and she’s making you late trying to choose another.”

“That is so me,” Reese smirked. More giggles from the audience.

Drake’s brow furrowed for a few seconds as he considered his answer, but it didn’t take long. “Help her pick and whatever you do, don’t tell her it’s just a pair of shoes.”

“Nadine, you’re our official judge?”

“Correct!”

After a brief moment for cheers, it was time for the next. “You’re going to the movies. You want to see the latest action movie; she wants to see a romantic comedy.  She tells you she’ll go with whatever you decide. What do you do?”

“Give in to her… but only every other time because I gotta at least pretend I’m in charge.”

“Survey says that’s a winner!”

Nadine put her hands on her hips and gave a mock pout. “I thought I was the judge?”

“I’ve been married thirty years, trust me on this one sweetheart. Finally… you meet Katy Marron in a bar and she’s throwing herself at you. This is a one time opportunity. What do you do?”

The blood drained from Reese’s face, and somehow when she looked up she immediately locked onto the only other face in the room that would have paled so much, despite not even knowing where he’d been standing for the short speech. She was going to kill Nadine. Already she had visions of clawing her eyes out, yanking out her entrails and letting some form of animal play in the wreckage. Of all times to bring the pop singer up, she had to do it at her engagement party?

Katy Marron had already destroyed one engagement without ruining this one too.

“Reese is prettier anyway.”

A cheer and a round of applause went up. Her father reached out to embrace first her and then Drake, declaring him officially welcomed to the family, but she was too numb to register it much. Justin couldn’t look more wounded than if Nadine had clawed her fingernails across his face, but this time Reese could take no joy in it. There was no satisfaction or justice to be taken in it now. Instead she was right back in that hotel room, still staring at the redhead writhing on Justin’s lap, her tongue down his throat as he groped her, oblivious to his fiancée’s presence until her legs buckled beneath her and she thumped as she hit the floor.

Hell, that question probably her hurt more than it hurt him. She really was going to massacre Nadine for this.

“So that’s okay?”

“Yeah, sure.”

Reese was trying to concentrate on what Drake was saying but having a difficult time. Her eyes kept straying to the table plan and wondering how on Earth she was supposed to subtly seat her single friends near each other to mingle without making them feel like they were being put on a losers’ table or being set up. All she wanted to do was make sure they didn’t feel like the odd ones out in a wedding of couples and families… eloping looked like a better idea every day.

“Reese, what did you just agree to?”

“Uhh… I’m sorry, I have no idea.”

“What is it this time, flowers or dress?”

“Table plan.”

“You know, I’m going to be so happy once we’re married and I get my woman back,” he joked.

“So what did I agree to again?”

“Bachelor party.”

“Oh, right. That’s fine so long as they don’t leave it until the night before the wedding… are strippers going to be involved?”

“The idea of a strip club was brought up but I thought you wouldn’t like it.”

“Hmm…” She weighed that one up in her head. Where was the line between being a wife who understood guys’ night and an idiot who should only expect trouble if she was dumb enough to give permission? “I’m okay with looking but strictly no touching.”

“Nah, it’s okay, I’m kind of over those places anyway. I was thinking some beers and pool. Though, major girlfriend points for the cool answer. But seriously, you know these guys can get rowdy and I don’t wanna make a big thing of it if you’re not comfortable.”

“Like I said, I just want a decent enough gap between the party and the wedding so you don’t look hungover in the photos. Beyond that you should have at it, babe, have some fun.”

“What about you, the girls got anything planned?”

That would have been Nadine’s remit, but since Nadine was seriously in the doghouse at the moment and she was barely speaking to her it was up in the air. On the one hand, she knew that Nadine had only done it out of love. She was taking the swipe that Reese couldn’t - standing up for her friend and pissing Justin off, which was always a bonus. It was her being protective; the problem was that it was also deeply insensitive and that was the part she couldn’t get over. Nadine might have been a big personality and easily be termed a bitch by people who didn’t know her too well, she had that slight cattiness in the way she asserted herself sometimes, but it was unlike her to be so thoughtless.

It was particularly awkward because Drake had picked up on the tension yet was unable to fathom where it had come from. He’d worked out that something had happened at the party, but Reese had no desire to go into the back story with him. For one thing it was painful, and for another it was a blight she didn’t want on her new relationship. The ‘ex’ conversation had come up for all of two seconds before they had mutually agreed they didn’t need to know how many people the other had slept with or their romantic history, and she liked it that way: a clean slate, no assumptions or judgments or past worries to cause jealousy or doubts. But she knew that if he knew about her past, she would feel disadvantaged and like she was more open to him than he was to her – that would only lead to her wanting something from him to even things up and that wasn’t fair.

“Not as far as I know.”

“Well you should do something. I’ll even be okay with a stripper so long as he doesn’t get his junk out.”

Reese laughed. “Oh those guys always look so orange and oily. I’ll pass.”

“That’s my girl. But if you got a problem with oil you’re marrying the wrong man, mechanic and all.”

“Different kind of oil, babe.”

“Anyway, my break’s over so I gotta run but you want to meet me at the diner at eight?”

“Eight? You working late again?” She frowned.

“Hey, these big fancy weddings don’t pay for themselves you know.”

“I know, but…”

“I know, I know. You don’t want me exhausting myself over it and we can always downsize and yadda yadda. Does it ever occur to you that maybe I want to do this for you?”

“But you don’t have to, I don’t want you to feel like…”

“I know. I don’t have to, I want to. Chill out, woman.”

“Okay,” she sighed, still not quite believing him. “Eight then.”

“Cool. Gotta run, love you baby.”

“Love you.”

The dial tone sounded in her ear and she pushed back from her desk with a frown. Strictly speaking she ought to have been working, but her job as a secretary in a sleepy legal practice left her plenty of time to pursue her own whims. Once upon a time she’d been a personal assistant at a much bigger firm, but this job was a lot less stress and the money wasn’t that much lower, all things considered. Drake didn’t make much but they had their eye on a small house in the next town over that they should be able to afford with minimal scrimping. Luckily he was very low maintenance and she’d long since lost her taste for designer bags and shoes.

In general, Drake had been just what she needed when she needed it. When he’d first come over to talk to her in the club, she’d judged him on his rough edges and assumed he was merely another idiot who wanted to bed her and leave her the next morning. He’d had the measure of her though – he’d realised what she was thinking after her withering dismissal, called her out on it and challenged her to challenge her prejudices. She’d agreed on a date more to save face than anything; she’d gone to prove she wasn’t some snob the way he seemed to accuse of being, and boy was she glad she had. She’d arrived at the dinner already keeping a weary eye on her watch and wondering how long she’d be obliged to stay, but Drake had been charming and polite with exactly the right splash of teasing naughtiness. They’d stayed until they were kicked out, walked back to her apartment together and before she’d known it she was in a whirlwind and getting married. It was uncharacteristically fast for her to move in a relationship, but he felt too good not to go for it.

Lord knew she’d earned something good after the serious amount of bad she’d already been put through.

***

Looking impatiently at her watch, Reese tapped her fingers listlessly against the table. It was now quarter past eight, she was starving and Drake wasn’t picking up his phone. It wasn’t unusual for him to work late – he was a sucker for a sob story about how the car just couldn’t wait until tomorrow – but he usually called her first. The problem was she wasn’t sure whether he was going to be really late and she should order now, or if he was on his way and it’d be rude not to wait for him. Ordering for him wasn’t a problem, she knew what he liked, but there was little point if it was only going to sit there and get cold. So patiently she continued to sit and wait, trying to ignore the growling of her stomach.

She almost jumped out of the booth when a basket of fries was dropped down in front of her. When she looked up, Trace Ayala was sliding into the red vinyl seat opposite where her fiancé was supposed to be.

“I can hear your stomach from the counter. Save my arteries and help me eat these.”

Trace hadn’t turned up to the party in the end; she was too proud to ask why. As a consequence, their last meeting had been in the supermarket where she had rather unkindly likened him to a dog. This gesture was very like Trace – rather than confront the situation, he would pretend nothing had ever happened. When it was small things like a grocery store tiff, that was good; when it was larger things about one of his friends cheating on another the head in the sand plan was somewhat lacking.

“See this is the difference between you and me,” she smiled nervously. “For their fries I don’t care.”

“I don’t really either but don’t you girls keep sayin’ that if you share ‘em the calories don’t count? I might as well take advantage.”

Reese chuckled, gingerly picking up a fry in one hand and the other stirring her Coke with the straw. “Wow, you do learn. Wonders never cease.”

“So you waiting for Nadine, or the future Mr Bennington?”

“Drake,” she nodded.

“Cool. Did the party go okay, you have a good time?”

Immediately she dropped the straw and glared at him. “Did he send you here to fish for information?”

“No, I was just doing the whole polite thing. He won’t say a damn thing about it so I figured that either you or Nadine shot him down good. Probably Nadine, she’s way more of a bitch than you.”

“Hey.” Even when on the outs, she felt the need to defend her friend.

“Didn’t say it was a bad thing,” Trace chuckled. “She uses her bitch powers for good. Usually.”

“Sorry,” she sighed. “I just…”

“Got your back up after he screwed you over. Been there, get that.” He patted her hand.

“You have?” She asked in surprise.

“Yeah. Since I last saw you I managed to lose me a fiancée. She cheated.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry, I’m over it. Mostly.”

“Sucks, huh?”

“Oh yeah.” He looked down at the fries on the table between them and for a minute Reese saw a strange expression in his eyes, a sadness she wouldn’t have thought him capable of. Trace was so laid back he was practically horizontal, as Nadine might say, it was rare to see him anything but quietly upbeat. “But hey, you seem to have landed on your feet. Everyone I meet is going on about why wasn’t I at the engagement party and oh don’t they make a cute couple.”

“Hah,” Reese snorted. “Same people were gossiping about him, all ‘got that no good look to him’ five minutes ago. Amazing what actually meeting somebody can do for your opinion of them.”

“Nick gave him the seal of approval so I figure that’s good enough for me. So when’s the big day?”

“A month Saturday.”

“Panicking yet?”

“Not yet but I might if I don’t work out the table plan soon.”

“Just don’t sit me next to Old Man Jacobs, I beg you. The guy sucks his teeth.”

“Oh, I…”

“Weren’t going to invite me? I’m hurt, boo.”

“No, it’s not that…” Reese was seriously surprised and couldn’t disguise it. “I just figured you’d be in LA with Justin. That and we haven’t talked in so long I wasn’t sure you’d care, but it was more the LA thing.”

“Err, Reese…” Trace pulled at his collar uncomfortably. He was about to be the bearer of bad news and he could only imagine how she was going to take it. He suspected it wouldn’t be pleasant and as the messenger that made him nervous. He had no wish to be shot metaphorically or otherwise. “I definitely care, but… you do know that Justin and me are going to be in town for a while?”

Reese’s knuckles went white, gripping her soda glass. “Tell me he’s not here while the wedding’s on.”

“Okay, he’s not here while the wedding’s on. But just so you know, I’m lying.”

“Oh God…”

Trace felt horrible. He’d had no idea that Reese’s wedding was going to be so soon – he hadn’t heard anything from his mom about invitations and had assumed they hadn’t gone out, since she’d updated him on all other details. Although the Timberlake, Ayala and Bennington children were having their issues the parents were still as close as ever. Ill advised as it had been, he’d known that Justin’s choice of timing had been about the engagement party. Try as he might he’d been unable to sway the particularly stubborn pop star from attending, but had figured it would be an opportunity for him to wake up and see that Reese was happy and it was time to move on. Although he’d known it would bother Reese he’d thought that in the long term it would help her as well as Justin, let him get some closure. Sticking around for so long after wasn’t unusual, he was between albums and had been bitching a lot about the paparazzi recently so going home for a break hadn’t been a bad idea.

However, now he knew that they’d still be here when Reese’s wedding was happening, he was less sure. There was no point in asking Justin about it, he’d only deny any prior knowledge. Still, you’d have to be stupid not to wonder - and despite many claims to the contrary Trace was not stupid.

“I’m sorry, I had no idea.”

“Obviously.” Mad as she was, she knew he wouldn’t have asked when the wedding was if he hadn’t already known. Trace had always been a horrible actor; he’d always been the one to get them caught in high school. “Lord, is he determined to piss me off?”

“I don’t know… shit, I didn’t want this to be about Justin, I really just wanted to catch up and see how you were.”

Before she could answer, she saw her fiancé bounding through the restaurant on his long legs. Panting slightly he dropped his long frame into the booth next to her, pushing a kiss on her forehead.

“I’m so sorry baby, I was on time for once and then I slipped on a friggin’ oil leak right when I was leaving, had to run home and change. You order?”

“Not yet. Oh, Trace Ayala this is Drake Turner. Trace is an old family friend.”

“So this is the lucky guy, eh? Pleased to meet you.” Trace held out a hand which Drake congenially shook.

“Good to meet you, bro. Haven’t seen you around before?”

“Oh, I moved out to LA a while back, just come home for the family gigs and vacation or whatever. Reese says you’re not from these parts?”

Reese hadn’t, so guessed Justin had. She thanked Trace for that small piece of tact.

“Atlanta, originally, but been here so long this is home now anyways.” Drake draped a warm arm around Reese as he spoke, and she huddled in under it, toying with his shirt in her fingers beneath the table, out of sight. “So family friend, did you say babe?”

“Mmhmm. Trace’s mom and mine have been friends for ages back, Trace is the one who used to get me in all the trouble in high school.”

“Hey, you were the one who talked me into all of that.” He chuckled.

“Yeah, but you were the idiot who couldn’t tell a cover story to save his hide. Or mine, more to the point.”

“Yeah, she used to smile and bat her eyelashes and get right out of trouble while I’d get enough detention for the both of us.”

“Oh really now?” Drake laughed. “And here I thought I was marrying a good girl.”

“You are. Mostly. Hey!” Trace said in mock protest as she threw a fry at his nose.

“Keep it up Ayala and you’re off the invite list.”

The two boys started some very civil ‘getting to know you’ chat, and apart from the odd interjection to avert suspicion Reese stayed quiet. How was it that Justin had only been back in her life for five measly minutes and he was still managing to cause chaos? She didn’t want this. She was happy, she was okay, she was about to get married and settle into a wonderfully boring but contented life. The last thing she needed was for him to run back in and start bringing trouble down on her head. Didn’t she deserve an easy ride, this time?

Maybe she was being paranoid, or too full of herself. Maybe it was wrong to assume he cared and had made all these plans for her. It was entirely possible that he’d come home not knowing about the engagement party or the wedding but had merely taken the opportunity he found when he got there. Being petty enough to bait her over everything didn’t mean he cared enough to really start anything. She had no proof except her general conviction that he was a bastard with a talent for hurting her, so it was a real possibility that she was being too hysterical.

So why did she have a horrible feeling that he had other ideas?

“Come on, girls!”

“No!” Nadine yelled back, not even moving. She and Reese were both sprawled out on the blanket next to the picnic basket, basking in the rays of the midday sun and steadfastly ignoring the Bennington brothers’ calls for them to join in their football game. Reese’s logic was that she was being ably represented by Drake. Nadine’s was that she didn’t want to and nobody was going to make her.

“When are they going to give that up?” Reese muttered sleepily.

“When they realise we always have and always will out stubborn them.”

“They are kind of dumb, you know.”

“I know. That’s my point; we could be waiting a while, sweetie.”

“Blah.”

Reese shifted slightly, trying not to get too comfortable before she really did fall asleep. The problem was that this was the first time she’d really relaxed in some time. She and Nadine had finally made up after Nadine had sworn a solemn vow that since there was no way she’d ever be able to top her last swipe she had sufficiently humiliated Justin and would keep quiet in future. It was good that they had; for one thing it felt too strange not to talk to her every day, and for another there were dress fittings to be done. She and Nadine were nowhere near the same shape or size so she couldn’t just use herself as a stand in the way she could her sister in law who was her second bridesmaid. Work was going smoothly, the wedding plans were going suspiciously smoothly, everything was all going smoothly and for the first time in a good few months she’d been able to breathe for a moment. And that made her want to sleep.

“You know, I have to say…” Nadine peered at the boys as they pushed and shoved each other. “Your fiancé is mighty fine. I do appreciate the whole shirtless thing.”

“I know. Isn’t it great?” Reese cracked an eye open to affectionately leer over her boyfriend’s muscled form.

“Dean used to look that, four years and one baby ago,” Jenna joked.

“Please do not make me imagine what my brother used to look like sans clothing.” Reese pulled a face. “The beer gut’s bad enough as it is.”

Jenna leaned over and gave her an affectionate poke. “Just you wait, honey. It’s all romance and roses for the first six months, then they get used to it and it’s beers in front of the game.”

“Bring it on,” she announced. “I’m quite happy to get used to being the little wife indoors. I have this whole plan where I’m going to be pregnant and a stay at home mom within three years tops.”

Nadine propped herself up on her elbows and laughed, staring at Reese in disbelief. “Says she who used to claim that career was key and nobody should be a parent before thirty five.”

“I changed my mind. Marriage, babies, just call me Suzie Homemaker because I am so done with adults. Bring on the little people.”

Jenna laughed. “I’m going to remind you of that when you’re complaining that you’re knee deep in dirty diapers and haven’t had a grown up conversation in weeks. I know I make it look fabulously easy but running after people who can’t even talk yet can get kind of dull, sometimes.”

“That’s when we drop them off at Uncle Dean and Aunt Jenna’s house for the night and go dancing.”

Jenna threw her head back and laughed, while Nadine smirked and smothered her giggles. “Seriously though, that’s quite the turn around,” Nadine said.

Reese shrugged lightly, pulling at the hem of her tank top. “Honestly, I know I used to want to do that whole high flying thing for a while but now that I’m out of the city it just kind of seems like unnecessary stress. You run around like a lunatic trying to kiss ass when all around there’s tons of people who, okay, less high powered, but who actually get some kind of work-life balance. So I figure I get me pregnant, have a nice couple of years at home with my kids and then when they go to school I can do part time or something.”

“Wow. Is Drake aware that he’s about to be a daddy or were you gonna tell him when the stick goes blue?”

She poked Nadine for that. “He wants kids though he wants us to have more money first, so I told him he needs to start bugging Old Man Johnson for a raise. Which he should have got like a year ago anyway because I swear he’s the only guy at that garage who actually does any work.”

“So true,” Jenna commented. “You know I left the Buick there with Sam for one stupid oil change at nine am sharp, I go back at the end of the day and he claims he was too busy to get to it. I take it back the next day and it turns out ‘busy’ meant at Joe’s watching the game and drinking. I tell Drake and he’s got it done for me by the end of the afternoon. Though, that might be because he was trying to butter up the future in laws.”

“That’s my man,” Reese said smugly with a bright smile.

“Well I approve. He can suck up to this in law all he wants.”

“I’ll be sure and tell him that.” Her tone was wry.

“So anyway, what are we doing about a bachelorette party?” Jenna asked. “I figure you’ll want to do it sooner rather than later, you don’t want to leave it until the night before the wedding. I made that mistake and it took a lot of concealer to fix.”

“Don’t ask me, ask my maid of honour.” Reese adjusted her sunglasses. “I already told her that all I’m doing is turning up when I’m told.”

“Ugh.” Nadine rolled her eyes. “You wouldn’t think it’d be so hard to check your diary. It’s not like I’m asking them to go away for a week, it’s one Saturday night. This is why I make Reese organise everything.”

“I’ll organise your bachelorette party.” Reese patted her shoulder.

Nadine snorted – Reese knew full well that was never going to be necessary. Marriage wasn’t for her. “Which would be helpful if I was ever getting married.”

“I know, but it works out great for me.”

“Hey.”

Having momentarily left the game, Drake dropped down next to Reese and started rummaging in the basket for a soda. Popping the tab, he leaned his head back and swallowed down half of it in one go before speaking. “And what are you three gossiping about?”

“Not a lot.” Jenna shrugged. 

“How your fiancée ought to organise her own bachelorette party and spare me the pain.”

“Hey, you got one job besides turning up and wearing the dress,” Drake chuckled. “Fair’s fair.”

“Really, only one? So does that mean I never have to look at that damn table plan ever again?”

“Soon as we squeeze Trace in I swear, we’re done,” Reese laughed.

“Oh.” Drake frowned momentarily. “Did we forget him or something?”

Reese froze, and out of the corner of her eye she could see Nadine’s steely gaze. That had been a stupid slip – Drake had no idea that Trace wasn’t on the original guest list and she really didn’t want to have to explain why. As far as he was aware Trace had no connection to her ex and was just a family pal who should have always been coming. Nadine had of course immediately realised this and that was why she was looking at her in that narrow-eyed way - when she’d first asked her to help rearrange the table plan she’d suffered a lecture about it.

“Yeah. Apparently it’s true, you always forget something when you’re organising this shit,” Nadine finally laughed before giving Reese another pointed look. “Though if one guest off the table plan is the worst that happens we should be okay.”

When Drake wasn’t looking, Reese mouthed a ‘thank you.’

“Well, I’ll see you girls later.” Drake kissed Reese’s cheek before jumping up and jogging back to the game.

“What was that?” Jenna asked shrewdly.

“Oh, Reese doesn’t want Drake to know that Trace only just got invited.”

“Oh. I take it the Timberlake connection had him banned before?”

“Yep. Apparently they’ve made up now.”

“Screw you.” Reese folded her arms crossly. Why was it bad that she’d accepted the olive branch? Trace was an old friend, even if he was also friend to the asshole. Okay, she was still sore that he’d defended Justin even knowing what he’d done, but there was no point continuing to be mad at him over it. Justin had taken quite enough from her without robbing her of a childhood pal too.

“So how you handling that, by the way?” Jenna picked up a stray grape from her plate and munched on it thoughtfully. “You inviting the Harlesses?”

“Yeah. Not their fault Justin’s an ass,” she replied. “I just made sure that unlike the engagement party invite this was strictly to Lynn and Paul only.”

“Because that’s not going to be awkward.” Nadine let out a snort of a laugh. “Watching you marry somebody who isn’t their son.”

“Nade,” Reese breathed out heavily, “I love you but if you don’t quit being a bitch about everybody even vaguely connected to Justin it’s gonna be you I don’t invite.”

“Would that mean I don’t have to organise the bachelorette party?”

She got a cracker thrown at her head for that. “Shut up.”

“Children,” Jenna said with a warning tone, sensing the tension beneath the jokes. “Reese is right, there’s no need to be rude to anybody who isn’t Justin. If Lynn and Paul are uncomfortable nobody’s going to force them to accept the invite.”

Nadine smiled brightly and took another handful of chips, but on the inside she was frowning. She knew that Reese felt she was being unreasonable and she knew that a lot of other people didn’t understand her hostility towards anything connected with Justin Timberlake, but then nobody else knew what had happened. Not even Reese’s parents knew why the engagement had been broken off – people knew enough to gather that something Justin had done had prompted Reese to leave him, but she’d always refused to be drawn on exactly what. She had been pretty much the only person Reese had confided in, and thus she had taken the brunt of the pain and anger. Contrary to appearances she really didn’t hold anything against Justin’s parents or even Trace (though she still thought he was a moron for even attempting to defend him); she just knew how messed up and not over the whole thing Reese was and she genuinely thought it was a bad idea for her to involve the remnants of her previous relationship so much in the wedding.

She didn’t doubt that Reese loved Drake and she didn’t think she was only with him to pretend she was over Justin, it wasn’t that; yet the girl clearly still had a lot of issues, hadn’t really closed the chapter yet. To her it felt like every time Reese went out of her way to pretend she was okay with such reminders of Justin it re-opened the wound and delayed the healing yet further. That wasn’t healthy. She knew how invested in the childhood sweetheart fairytale her friend had been, and she couldn’t help seeing this sudden rush to do a 180 and stop resembling even in the slightest the Reese who had been with Justin as blinkered and reactionary. It was only going to cause trouble in the long run if she rushed into everything and pretended nothing had happened.

Nadine couldn’t do the same. She remembered all too vividly. Reese had been living with Justin in LA at the time, and had flown out to surprise him in New York. The surprise had been on her when she’d discovered him with Hollywood’s Slut Du Jour (Lord only knew how he had kept their hook up out of the papers, Katy Marron was known for getting through men like most girls got through hot meals), and she had immediately jumped on a plane home to Tennessee. When she had arrived on Nadine’s doorstep, dishevelled and crying and with little concept of what time zone she was supposed to be in or her body thought it was supposed to be in, it had been horrendous. She’d never seen her usually immaculate friend look that way – there had been a grey pallor to her skin and huge purple circles beneath her eyes. There had been tears and wailing and even a little vomiting.

What had then shocked Nadine was the sheer speed at which Reese had proceeded to cut all ties from her life in LA. It hadn’t even been 24 hours before she’d quit her job without notice, arranged for somebody to pack her things and ship them back to Shelby Forest. In her opinion, most people wouldn’t have been able to do much more than sleep and cry – it was just one more thing that convinced her Reese had tried to move on too quickly without ever actually addressing anything she was feeling. It was probably why she couldn’t even hear Justin’s name without becoming snippy and agitated.

Taking him back was a big no-no and Nadine had never been worried about Reese’s refusal to even consider doing so – Lord knew she despised Justin for what he’d done to the friend she considered a sister – but even she thought that the hostility and fury Reese was holding onto when it came to him was a bad thing. And that really said something, because she hated Justin with intensity and had more than once told him to go die in a fire.

“So we still on for dinner tonight?”

Nadine was snapped out of her reverie by Reese poking her. Lord only knew how much of the conversation she had missed. “Abso-tively. You still want to head out to Alessandro’s?”

“Yes. I have serious craving for the linguine.”

“Cool. You and Dean going to join us or are you stuck with the rug rats?” She asked Jenna.

“No, it’ll just be your happy little threesome.”

“Eww, that makes it sound dirty.”

As Jenna laughed and chatted on, Nadine stifled a sigh. She really didn’t enjoy pretending everything was normal when it so wasn’t. That had been easy enough before Timberlake had decided to show up and throw a dark cloud over everything, but these days she was finding it hard to bite her tongue.

It wasn’t like it had been her greatest skill to begin with.

Every single step was rhythmic. Left, right, left, right, a steady beat that was perfectly in time. It was very easy to concentrate on it to the exclusion of all else. It was a beautiful day. The sun was shining but a nice breeze took the edge off the heat and left the temperature warm yet still agreeable. Only a light sheen of perspiration resulted. The trail was well beaten and picturesque, the dogs were trotting happily along with only the occasional pause for a sniff and examination of the surrounding plants. Despite all the lovely scenery, however, Justin concentrated on that steady walk.

Left, right, left, right.

The truth was that he could concentrate on it all he liked; it wasn’t doing its usual trick and it wasn’t going to. Normally he took this path because it was so familiar and comforting that it could drive all other thoughts from his head. It did wonders for clearing his mind and reinvigorating him – maybe because it was all so familiar that he barely had to think. It was enough exercise to perk you up but not enough to wear you out, it was pretty, and it got the dog walking chore out of the way. All in all he should have been having a very pleasant stroll but for once it had failed to shut his brain up.

Justin really would have appreciated it if it had. He’d had to escape the house after walking in on his mom and Trace’s having yet another conversation about the upcoming nuptials and what they were wearing. He was sick to death of hearing about that Godforsaken wedding but it was all the town residents ever talked about. If anybody had expected people to shut up about it in the ex-fiancé’s presence (‘anybody’ namely being him) then they were very wrong.  People seemed to have taken the opposite view, thinking it was more conspicuous if they avoided the topic.

He kicked a stray stone off the park, narrowly missing Brennan which made him wince at his aim. Maybe Trace had been right, although the thought would never be aired within audible range of him. Perhaps coming home while all this was going on had been a bad plan. What exactly was he trying to prove, and to whom? Sometimes he thought that he was trying to show everybody that it didn’t bother him. On other occasions he’d considered that maybe he was trying to demonstrate to Reese that it didn’t bother him, although he was willing to bet she thought he was here to screw with her.

And then, sometimes, he thought he was trying to prove to himself that it could really be happening and it wasn’t some Twilight Zone he’d dropped into.   

Other people’s opinions seemed to fall into two categories. Some thought the timing was a coincidence and he had simply been overdue a trip home. That wasn’t unreasonable; he hadn’t been back since before the golden couple thing had exploded in his face. Given that he regularly returned to Tennessee his continued absence would have been stranger, so went the logic. Others thought the timing was anything but coincidental and that he had specifically returned home for the wedding. Reese had been fool enough to include him on the engagement party invitation even if she had excluded him from the wedding and people gossiped that with their history he couldn’t possibly resist appearing.

As usual, for all the speculation surrounding Justin Timberlake few had got it right. He had long since needed to go home but the desire to hide from his ex-fiancée kept him away. When his mother mentioned that the invitations for the engagement party and wedding had dropped through her door it had galvanised him into action. Reese was clearly determined to settle in Shelby Forest and he couldn’t avoid the place forever – didn’t see why he should when it was his home too. The jolt had been what he needed to man up and face his fears… though he couldn’t deny that curiosity had got the best of him and he’d wanted to check out the competition.

It didn’t take a master detective to work out that he’d really fucked up and that he’d fucked up Reese because of it. The complete and uncharacteristic 180 degree spin she’d done immediately after their break up was proof enough of that. Even so, he found it hard to believe she’d not only got another boyfriend so quickly but she’d got engaged again within months. It had taken an incredibly long time before she’d even consider marrying Justin, a guy she’d known most of her life, because she was career oriented and determined not to get lost in the shadow of a husband. Now by all accounts she was ready to hang up her suits completely to become a veritable Mrs Brady, and so very quickly. You didn’t have to know her well to know that such a sudden and drastic turn around was not the result of healthy change and growth.

“Ahh,” he grunted quietly to himself as he continued walking (or more like stomping) along.

What he didn’t understand was why she was doing it. Drake from what he could gather was exactly the same kind of guy they’d grown up with, the kind Reese had never really been interested in.  The type wasn’t a bad guy – though it pained Justin to admit it – but never likely to amount to much or leave the town, something Reese had always previously insisted on. She’d been thrilled when Justin had finally come around to the idea that they were serious enough to be living together and he’d installed her in his L.A. house. Her ambitions had always been bigger than a Tennessee backwater, even if it was a Tennessee backwater she was fond of. Okay, he had deeply hurt her and he knew it, but how could that suddenly alter her entire life’s course?

He’d expected that she would quickly move out. What he hadn’t expected was that it was to go straight home and turn herself into somebody he barely recognised. Maybe he had little right to be at all bothered, after how things had ended. Still it hurt that after so many years together (and a good deal more of both longing from afar but being too nervous of the friendship to do anything about it) she had done this. In such a short space of time she’d rejected not only him but the entire person she’d been while with him.

“I don’t see the problem.”

“The problem is that what you won’t see is your husband,” Justin joked, trying to bring some levity.

Reese frowned back at him. Even as they walked together down the trail looking like love’s young dream the tension was obvious. “It’s not funny.”

“I’m not saying it is…” he groaned. “I’m just saying that I’ve been in this industry and I know what happens when you never see each other. I want you to have the high flying career peanut, but not at the expense of our marriage. When we finally get around to having one of those.”

“Is that what this is about? The date setting thing?”

When would he learn that he was never going to win any disagreement with the woman? His grandfather had warned him to learn the art of ‘yes dear’ and he was starting to think it was good advice. They’d had a separate clash about her reluctance to set a date but he wasn’t the type to drag up every previous fight when they disagreed.

“No. I think it’s probably a good idea for us to have agreed on jobs and kids and all that stuff before we make anything official anyway. It’s not that it’s the schedules, you know? I don’t want to be one of those guys who never see their wives; they all end up divorced.”

“But come on, babe, do you really want me being Ms Sit At Home? You know that’s not me.” Reese tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, gazing down at the floor self consciously. His hand was in hers, very warm and solid and there, but she felt a million miles away from him right that second. She knew he was trying to understand her point of view but he wasn’t getting it. In his head he had the perfect solution and he couldn’t see why she didn’t feel the same.

“No, that’s not what I’m saying either. I know you got things you want to do and I don’t want to stop you doing them, but I don’t think it’s a good idea for both of us to have jobs which keep us away all the time.”

“So automatically it’s you who keeps yours?”

“Not automatically, it just makes sense that I can’t slide so easily into another job and I at least get to set some of my own schedule,” he pointed out. “You’d be at the whim of some ass twenty four seven when there are a million people I could hit up to give you the same job but that would keep us more in sync.” God, that phrase had been ruined for him for life.  

“I do not need my boyfriend to fix my life for me.”

“No you don’t, which is what I love about you,” he kissed her head as punctuation, “but I wouldn’t be doing that. Only giving you some more options so you can still have what you want but maybe we can balance it more with our other shit. You know I wouldn’t try and make you take some job you hated or tell you not to go a certain way. I just think there’s more of a compromise we could have here. And I gotta be honest, I don’t understand the resistance.”

“Ugh.” Reese’s lower lip stuck out in a fierce pout. Justin was very difficult to argue with. He always managed to make her sound like she was being unreasonable or irrational even without trying to. Somehow she could never articulate her side as well as he could and she wound up losing the debate by default because of it. “I get enough shit with people telling me I’m riding on your coat tails; I think it’s asking for it if I use you to get me a job.”

“I wouldn’t get you the job though peanut, I’d just put out some feelers and find out who’s hiring and would be a little more personal life friendly. Jacob Winchester is like the legal version of Miranda Priestley, he burns through assistants at the speed of sound.”

“I knew you were paying attention to that movie. Liar.”

He nudged her softly with his shoulder. “Now who’s making jokes?”

“It’s just important to me that I’m not dependent on you and I make my own way.”

“It’s important to me too. I want you to have what you want, but I think there are ways to get that for you which selfishly benefit the two of us more.”

“So you admit this isn’t entirely altruistic and all that ‘I’m just worried he’ll overwork you’ stuff you said earlier was a fib?”

“No, that’s true, never said it was my only reason though. It is hard to get laid when your wife’s never home. Oww!”

Reese had elbowed him sharply, though with a big smile and a chuckle. The tension at least was broken even if the issue wasn’t resolved. “You earned it. Can’t believe I’m marrying such a pig.”

Justin released her hand to wrap his arm around her shoulders and hug her to him as they walked. “Come on, Mrs Pig. Dinner’s in about twenty minutes and you know Mom complains if we’re late.”

“Paprika, paprika, where in the darn hell is the…”

“Talking to yourself is never a good sign, you know,” said an unexpected voice.

“Oh fuck off,” Justin replied with a smile. “Who the hell let you in anyway?”

Trace didn’t bother to respond to that; he merely padded through the back door and across the kitchen so Justin could actually see him. It was well accepted in the Harless and Ayala households that Justin and Trace were a package deal and that they would walk into each other’s places unannounced and uninvited.  They had long since left home but it still extended to their parents’ houses. The other residents had stopped batting any eyes at it before the two were even up to double digits in age. The back doors were always open and frequently they stuck around even if the other wasn’t home. The families were now so intermingled that it was nothing to any of them. Everyone was so used to it that you couldn’t even sneak up on them any more, nobody got surprised.

“Speaking of hell, did it freeze over? What’s with the Martha Stewart act?”

“I’m making enchiladas.”

“Again, I ask, what happened? Pod person invasion?”

“Fuck you, ass, I can cook. Mom’s out shopping with Liz so I said I’d make dinner. There’s enough if you want to stay.”

Trace tried not to raise his eyebrows at that. His own mom was out with Liz Bennington as well, though he hadn’t known Lynn was going. It was somewhat of a surprise since the purpose of the trip was to find a mother of the bride outfit. As the mother of the former groom that seemed like one heck of an awkward thing to do.

Having located the paprika, Justin grabbed the chilli powder and started measuring out doses for the spice mix. He had to resist the temptation to add another pinch; he liked his food far spicier than his mom did. That done, he went back to the chopping board and started peeling the onion he’d left on it. Although he didn’t cook much – why would he when there were far better cooks in his family – he tended to enjoy it when he did. There was something about having a set task and a complete product at the end of it, made him feel like he’d done something productive. His own work tended to be far less easy to measure results wise.

“Sure. Though how it is I always manage to wind up staying for dinner when I only wanted to ask you like one question…”

“Heh.” Another wry smile crept over his lips. “Shoot.”

“So I ran into Sammy Taylor, you remember him?”

“Yeah, course.” He picked up a knife and started carefully chopping. Although he couldn’t do it nearly as fast as people on television seemed to he could keep it pretty neat. He blamed the perfectionism.

“Well, aside from a reminder about the big charity masque thing his wife’s running which I confirmed we’re attending, it’s his birthday and he’s decided to go big on the nostalgia. Cookout at the park, just the way we used to.”

“Seriously?” Justin chuckled. “Keggers and all?”

“Keggers and all, right back to high school. It’s Friday and he’s invited us both, if you’re in.”

“I’m in, sounds like fun. Though, wait, who else is invited?”

Trace looked pointedly at him. “Really?”

“What?”

“Don’t play dumb.”

He rolled his eyes and shrugged. “Who’s playing? I honestly have no idea why you’re giving me the trout face.”

“Trout? The fuck you mean trout… whatever, you do know and you know full well. Are you actively seeking or actively avoiding Reese this time?”

“Whoa whoa whoa…” Justin put his hands up in mock surrender, though perhaps he should have put the kitchen knife down first. “I was not asking about Reese. I just want to know if he’s asking the gang or if I have to worry about people who don’t know me playing amateur paparazzi with their camera phones. Though now you mention it, if she’s going I may want to think twice.”

Trace opened the fridge and helped himself to a beer. As an after thought he picked up one for Justin too. “Well you changed your tune. You crash her engagement party but don’t want to run into her at somebody else’s shindig where you have a legitimate reason to be there?” He placed the beer next to the chopping board for him before popping the cap on his own.

“Well you were right about the engagement party, so I figure I may as well learn from my mistakes.” The voice had a sour tinge to it.

“Now he sees the light? Damn. Was Nadine that harsh?”

Justin didn’t even bother to ask how he knew it had been Nadine. Trace was something of a gossip troll who always managed to know everything. “She actually brought up Katy freakin’ Marron in front of the whole room. I couldn’t fuckin’ believe it. It’s not like anybody else knew what she was talking about, but Reese looked like somebody punched her.”

“What?” It was a good job he’d already swallowed or he’d be spluttering on the amber liquid. “How the hell did that come up?”

“John was doing his speech and he was playing this silly game with the goon, testing him as the son in law to be…” He knew he was being petty with the name when it wasn’t really Drake he was irritated with. He didn’t care. The knife sounded that little bit louder against the chopping board as he channelled his aggression into it. “He was asking all these questions, like a quiz, and one of the questions Nadine came up with was what he’d do if Katy hit on him in a bar. Seriously, you should have seen the peanut’s face, she was horrified.”

“Umm… wow.” Trace hopped up onto a stool at the counter, giving a whistle. At no point did he lift a finger to assist in the cooking. “Talk about a low blow.”

“I just couldn’t believe she did it in front of the whole room.” Justin gave a fierce frown. “Like, I’d expect her to make some kind of jab to me about it, but to do it in front of everyone like that when Reese wasn’t expecting it? In the middle of the engagement party and right when they had the entire room focused on them? That was bitchy even for her, Reese was really upset.”

Trace didn’t fail to notice that all Justin’s concern was for his ex rather than himself. It was wiser to refrain from commenting on it. “Well, she never really liked us even before that all went down. Not surprised she’d go for the jugular.”

“Yeah. Still, it kind of got me thinking.” Putting down the knife he turned his attention to the stove. He picked up the oil and drizzled some in the pan before turning on the heat. “I mean, there was me sitting there thinking what an insensitive thing it was on her part, doing it there of all places… but then what the hell was I doing?”

“If I know you, you were hanging around giving Reese shit she doesn’t deserve like your very presence wasn’t already inappropriate enough.”

“Exactly.” It hurt to admit it, but there was no denying it. “I’d been pissing her off right before so it seemed a little rich to be thinking Nadine was a bitch for her choice of venue. Though she was. But I guess I was being one too, even if I at least managed to do it privately.”

Well, that was a confession he certainly hadn’t been expecting. It seemed like as good a time as any to start prying further and asking a few things that had been bugging him for a while. Even so it would take cautious handling or his friend would only get defensive and close off on the subject again. Trace ran a finger across the condensation on his bottle, trying to choose his words carefully.

“I gotta say, JT, you’ve been kind of a bitch to Reese about the whole thing period. And I don’t get that. I mean, I know you’ve been messed up about it, of course you would be, but it’s not like you to be so…” He really needed to be judicious in his next choice of word. “Confrontational with her about it. Especially since you know you were the one in the wrong.”

Justin was quiet for a moment. The speech was a very Trace way to approach things; in a quiet and roundabout way he was calling him on his behaviour. It was painful to hear and always made him feel a little ashamed of himself, but he knew he needed to hear it. Lord knew he needed somebody around who wasn’t an enabler or a yes man. The instinct was to start defending and justifying himself, but this was his best friend. The guy wasn’t going to buy that and it was insulting to his intelligence to try it.

He scooped out handfuls of the chopped onion and tossed it in the pan. The kitchen felt a little too warm, though it was tough to tell if it was the sunlight streaming through the windows or the topic of conversation heating him up. Normally he was cheered by the room – it was a place where his mom and grandma cooked him all manner of good stuff, usually filled with laughter and always full of natural daylight. It was cosy and warm and lived in, brightly coloured tiles and solid wood counters. It was the place in the house that most looked like home. Right now however it was just about the least comfortable place he’d been in a while and that included the engagement party. Trace had a way of making him squirm like only somebody who knew you too well could.

“Can I preface this by saying I know how dumb it sounds?”

“I expect nothing less, duly noted.”

“It’s the only friggin’ way I can get a damn response out of her these days.”

Trace’s head cocked to the side and he stared hard at his friend, trying to read the expression on his face. “How do you mean?”

“She never wanted to hear me out, which I guess isn’t a big surprise and I brought it on myself. But it just…” He jabbed at the sizzling ingredients with the spatula. “I never expected her to clam up entirely. She didn’t even stop to scream at me or tell me what a bastard I am, never at any point. It wasn’t only that she didn’t want to hear the explanation; she just disappeared back here and never even spoke to me. She wouldn’t answer any calls or e-mails or anything… until one day I got frustrated and was an ass to her. Then suddenly she had something to say.”

“So… now you’re an ass to her just to get any kind of response? Dude.”

“I know, I know.” Justin shook his head, though not at Trace. “The really stupid part is that I don’t actually like doing it. I don’t like seeing her look at me like that or hear her trying to bite back at me; I don’t feel like a good guy after it. But every time I see her it’s like I’m there and I’m doing it before my brain has a chance to remind me that it’s a dick move.”

“So, like, why would you? Is it just wanting any reaction no matter how shitty?”

“I don’t know, I guess... I don’t know.” His lips pursed together. “The situation is just fucked, it feels so weird being back here and seeing her at all. Especially after avoiding it for so long. I mean, I know I had to face it sometime and she’s obviously settling here so it’s not going away. I need to be able to come home without hiding from  her or it being some big deal. Maybe seeing her get married will finally close the book on the whole thing? But… I don’t even know. Right now it’s just bugging the shit out of me, everywhere I turn I’m watching my peripheral like she’s going to jump out at me.”

“I totally understand all of that.” Trace took another swig of his beer before continuing. His foot dangled from the stool, idly swinging back and forth. “But that still doesn’t explain why you’re being so aggressive with her when you do see her.”

“Don’t look at me, I don’t get it either. Every time I see her I just get wound up. It’s like she’s turned into some person I don’t recognise. I don’t know, I get around her and suddenly I’m angry even though I have no right to be. And before I know it I’m standing there saying shit to her that I know isn’t fair.”

Trace’s eyebrows creased and he tapped his finger rhythmically along the bottle as he took a moment to think.

“So… what I think I’m hearing… is you’re pissed with her for running away and not letting you have it out, one way or another? You’re angry with her for turning her back on everything like you never happened, so… you pretty much act like a total prick to her just to prove that it still matters even if she doesn’t act like it.”

Justin paused before answering. He tugged uncomfortably at the collar of his t-shirt, which suddenly felt constrictive.

“I’m starting to regret asking you to stay for dinner.”

“Don’t hate me ‘cause I speak plain.”

“It’s not you I hate right now. I kind of hate me because I think you’re probably right.” He let out a sigh as he ripped open a carton of chopped tomatoes and started pouring it over the browned onion. Somehow his hands followed the recipe even though his brain wasn’t paying the slightest bit of attention to the process.  “Jesus Christ. This is the stupid thing, I know I’m screwy in the head for all this but you know what’s going to happen next time I see her? Same shit different day.”

“Come on, don’t kid yourself like you have no control over that. If she’s not reacting like you expected her to then you need to put on your grown up pants and deal instead of being a shit to her. She doesn’t deserve it.”

“I know, but…”

Trace didn’t let him get very far with that. “Seriously, man, you near damn killed the girl. Cut her some slack.”

“You know what, that’s exactly the damn problem. Apparently I did kill her and some clone with a completely different personality has taken her place. That’s what’s so fucking aggravating, I don’t know where my fiancée went but that Stepford Wife running around with her face is not her.”

He tossed the spatula aside with force. It crash landed in the sink and the dirty saucepan lids it disturbed let out a loud clang.  

“Alright, alright, calm your ass down.” Trace held his hands up in a ‘stop’ gesture. “Easy does it.”

“Sorry, sorry.” Justin rubbed a hand over his face, a fretful scowl settling over his features. His lips drew together in a rigid line. “I know I don’t have any right to worry who she is any more. I just… fuck, man. What the hell did I do to her?”

“Stuck your tongue down someone else’s throat and let her walk in on you practically getting a lap dance when she was trying to surprise you.”

Justin’s face quickly hardened into a pissed off visage. He could’ve been spitting venom. “It was a rhetorical question, asshole.”

“Yeah but I think maybe you still need to hear the damn answer, brother.” Trace replied in equally harsh tones. “You’re my boy and I’ve got your back but I’m not going to sit here and sugar coat this shit for you. You screwed up, you hurt her really fucking bad, and now you’re acting like you’re entitled to a say in how she responds or what she does with her life. You don’t have the right; you gave that up the second you let your dick start doing the thinking. I know it was complicated, but you did it and these are the fucking consequences. Deal with them, but don’t take it out on me and you sure as hell shouldn’t be taking it out on her.”

He deflated with almost the same speed that he’d puffed up. It was probably unnecessary for Trace to have been such a smart ass to begin with, but no righteous indignation could survive in the face of that diatribe.

“See now I hate both of us because you’re right. Fuckin’ A…”

For the first time he dropped the cooking and picked up the beer Trace had retrieved for him instead. After tossing the cap aside he knocked back a gulp at least three times the size of his usual. Within a matter of seconds his face twisted from angry to forlorn to irate and back again. It was hard to stay too mad at him when he was obviously struggling.

“Seriously, man… I’m sorry to be harsh on you but you have got to start getting a grip. She’s doing this, she’s getting married, and even if you never understand it you’re going to have to accept it and move on. Without making a bad guy out of yourself in the process.”

“You know, sometimes…” Justin picked at the label on his beer with a fingernail. The room was starting to smell like garlic and spice. “Sometimes I kind of feel like I already am the bad guy and I might as well act like it. Which before you say it I know is stupid.”

“Well if you’re doing that under some notion that it’s eventually going to force whatever conversation you’re looking for out of Reese, you need to disillusion yourself. She’s stubborn that way.”

“I say again…” Justin sighed wearily and picked up the spoon again, trying to put his concentration back into the task at hand. “I’m kind of regretting inviting you to stay.”

“Yeah yeah.” Trace sat back in his seat with an unrepentant face. “You should worship the ground I walk on for dealing with your copious bullshit.”

“Quid pro quo, man. Not like I don’t deal with enough of yours.”

“Fair point. Call it even?”

That was as close to a détente as the two were going to get. They’d known each other too long for apologies.

“Even.”

“So you got everything?”

“I think so,” Drake said. “I’m going to pay last instalment on the tuxes, then I need to do the same for the bakery, and then I swing by the caterers. Then I go cry into my empty wallet.”

“Funny.” Reese unbuckled her seat belt and then leaned over to give him a quick peck on the lips. “So I’ll see you at my mom’s later?”

“Yes. I might be a little late, got to swing by the garage first.”

“Okay,” she replied, distracted. “I’ll see you later.”

“Love you baby, have fun.”

Reese was so preoccupied with the list of jobs in front of her that she forgot to reply or wave goodbye as she got out of the car. Her eyes were firmly on her lists as she started walking off towards the dress shop. The wedding plan was like a hydra – you crossed one task off and five more appeared in its place. Drake merely shook his head and smiled wryly to himself, wondering how much slower the time could pass until they’d said vows and he got his other half back. She was so buried in the planning she sometimes forgot to come up for air. He pulled away and gave a fruitless wave to his fiancée who still wasn’t watching.

She rushed through the door into the dress shop only to be met by the sight of two bridesmaids already in their dresses. They were peering in the full length mirrors, twirling and strategically readjusting the material. It all looked lovely, but the picture was strange because they shouldn’t have started already. They should only just be getting there, not already be in the dresses and looking ensconced in the fitting. Was she late? A quick glance at her watch told her otherwise, so why were they already dressed?

“I see you started without me, what gives?”

“Sorry, sweetie, didn’t you get my text?” Jenna asked. “Dean had to change his shift so I’m on borrowed time, we thought if we got here earlier then we could get me over with and then I could scoot while y’all finish up.”

“Oh, okay. No problem. Phew, was thinking my watch had stopped or something.”

It was meant to be a joke but it fell flat – not because she didn’t mean it as a joke, but the mood was entirely wrong. Jenna and Nadine exchanged glances, not failing to notice. Reese had pushed a hand through her chestnut hair and was frowning down at her wedding binder, which Nadine referred to as the Doomsday Book. It didn’t take a genius to see that she was not in a great headspace. Stress was coming off of her in waves, so potent that it filled the room with a palpable tension. Hard set lines creased her face and made her look tired. The girls had been giggling excitedly before she came in, now in the blink of an eye the atmosphere had completely changed. They were immediately concerned and on eggshells; Reese could be a little highly-strung when she was worried about something.

“Everything okay?” Nadine ventured cautiously.

“Yeah, just stupid busy.” Reese rolled her eyes and gave a shrug, a strained smile on her face which tried and failed to be jovial. “So, anyway, y’all look great. How they fitting?”

“Good, good,” Jenna tried to sound perky, swishing the skirt in her hands and twisting so Reese could get a multi-angled view. “Karen said she still wants to take them up a little so she’s gone to find the shoes to put us in first. They won’t be the right colour but she says she has the same kind as the ones we’re waiting on.”

She eyed the lavender chiffon critically and nodded. “Yeah, I can go for that. I know you’re in bare feet but even so that looks like a little much bunching up on the floor.”

“Speaking of which, I dropped into the salon on my way here and they said no problem for the appointments. Manis plus pedis day before and they’ll send a couple of girls over to do our hair morning of.”

“Oh you’re a lifesaver Nade, thank you!” That was one more place she didn’t have to go this afternoon. She grabbed the pen which she had tied to the binder and scribbled it off of the list. “Anyway, seriously, how are they feeling? They comfortable, can you breathe, any concerns about bras?”

Jenna jokingly grabbed her breasts. “These things are practically like scaffolding, I think we’ll be okay. Yours are going to be at your chin if these are anything to go by, you got even more corset on yours.”

“Yeah, think you should definitely do a sit down and bend over test in yours because I gotta say, I physically can’t slouch in this,” Nadine said. “Must be doing wonders for our posture.”

“Yeah, well, my turn to be trussed up soon!”

There it was again – something was obviously bugging her. It was the tone more than anything that gave it away. Reese obviously wasn’t being rude or standoffish, but the tone spoke volumes. It said that her mind was elsewhere and that she was less than thrilled to be there. The mood she’d brought in with her was fractious and it was strange, given how much she’d talked about the dress appointment. She’d been so excited about wanting to see the three of them together in their dresses for the first time.

Nadine gingerly decided to poke the bear again. “Are you sure you’re alright, hon? You look a little tense.”

“Ahh, I’m sorry.” Reese shook her head as if to shake free cobwebs, looking apologetic. “It’s just been non-stop all damn day and we’ve haemorrhaged a ridiculous amount of money in the last few hours. I knew it was coming but it still hurts.”

“Been there!” Jenna was sympathetic. “I promise though you won’t give a shit when you’re having an amazing day.”

“God I hope so,” she laughed. “At this rate I’m not sure Drake remembers why he wanted to marry this really pissed off lady who looks like his girlfriend but doesn’t act like her.”

“Come on, let’s go get you into your dress and then you’ll feel better.”

The bridesmaids exchanged another glance – one that silently added ‘we hope.’

**

Of all the jewellery stores in all the world, his ex-fiancée had to be in the one he’d just walked into. In fairness there was only one in the town, she couldn’t go elsewhere, but did she have to be there when he was? He’d already had to swing a quick and unexpected left to avoid the dress shop when he’d seen her walk in there, which had already put him behind schedule. The problem was that he had to pass it to get where he needed to go but didn’t want to catch sight of her through the window. The last thing he needed was to catch sight of her in a bridal gown. Even though they’d never set a date she had gone on some initial fact finding missions for dresses and it was painful to remember how happy she’d looked when she came home after. For how little they’d managed to plan their doomed wedding there seemed to be way too many details of it swimming in his brain.

Justin knew full well he’d never have been able to prevent himself looking, masochistic as that was. So he had instead completely re-ordered his errands into an entirely illogical sequence to avoid temptation (he’d figured she couldn’t take more than an hour), and thankfully that had worked. Or it had worked until he’d walked into the same store as her. There she was, in jeans and a plaid shirt and the battered brown boots he’d failed to get her to toss away even though they were falling apart. Life clearly hated him; this was what he got for being from a small town. There wasn’t enough room in it for both of them, but he was just going to have to suck it up.

So was she, despite the cantankerous look she immediately got on her face. Justin had never liked it when Reese scowled. It was the way her lips pushed together. They became thin and pinched; it gave her the look of an old schoolteacher. Even so, she had to know that they still needed to co-exist and if she insisted on living there then it meant running into him. He had as much right to be there as she did.

“Hey, Justin.”

“Hey Mr Walker,” he tried to keep it light. No need to let her know he was bothered. “Came in to pick up my dad’s watch, was just a glass replacement?”

“Sure thing, son, I’ll go grab it. Think Reese here needs a little more thinking time anyway.” He smiled kindly at her before disappearing into his back room. 

Reese was pointedly staring down at the choices in front of her, refusing to acknowledge him or look him in the eye. She’d already been dithering for about five minutes straight over a simple choice and Justin’s presence really wasn’t helping. She was too aware of him. Even when she couldn’t see the body she could sense him moving and even catch a whiff of leather jacket. It was distracting and an irritant, as if she wasn’t already on edge as it was.

It wasn’t long before Justin cracked. He was getting itchy in the quiet.

“Hey. Umm… how’s it going?”

Very slowly her head turned in his direction and she looked up to glare at him. “Really? You’re going to pretend to be friendly now?”

Ouch – oh well, he’d earned it. “Not pretending. Just… I don’t know. Trying to be civil.”

“That must be difficult for you.”

The sarcasm felt like drops of acid hitting his face. His skin was hot and prickly. “Okay, I deserve that, I was a jackass at the party. I’m sorry.”

Reese was completely unprepared for the apology, and doubly unprepared for its sincerity. There was no trace of guile in his face and his voice had borne no lie. It threw her off balance and her default reaction was to continue hitting out. “He admits it. Wonders never cease.”

“Look, Reese, I know you hate me and I know you have reason to, I’ve been a dick about pretty much everything, but this town’s too small to avoid each other and it’s just more painful for the both of us if we keep sniping at each other. Could we maybe dial it down to awkward politeness?”

She was taking this to mean that Trace had said something to him or that he was up to something. There was no way in hell he was showing that kind of humility of his own volition, especially after everything. He had delighted in making her uncomfortable and taking shots at her ever since the break up – apparently breaking her heart wasn’t enough fun by itself, he had to twist the knife – so this turn around couldn’t be taken at face value. Something was going on behind it.

Still, conveniently enough for him if she refused she would then look like the unreasonable one. He’d always had a way of that, twisting everything to make her look like the bad guy whenever they fought. Even now when he was patently the one who’d screwed everything up he was still making her sound like the ass for being mad and expressing it. The only thing left to do was to keep silent and refuse to answer, so that was what she did She turned back to the rings in front of her, wondering why it was so hard to pick between plain gold and gold with a very tiny pattern around the rim. There was little difference, and surely she either liked the pattern or she didn’t (Drake had left the choice entirely to her). Why was this taking so long, even before her ex walked in to aggravate her?

“I thought you didn’t like yellow gold?”

If Justin had considered that sentence for even a millisecond before he opened his mouth he never would have uttered it. Any amount of thought about it would have immediately warned him that she would take it as an insult. Damn his inability to take the silence.

“Fuck you, Justin, I’m trying to pick my god damn wedding ring and I don’t need you bitching at me about it. Nobody cares what you think, you are no longer the groom and you no longer get a say.”

That last jab hurt, a lot. “I didn’t mean it badly, I swear, it was just a genuine question.”

“Like I believe that coming from you.”

“Yeah and I guess I earned that too but honestly, Reese, I wasn’t saying it to be an ass. I just didn’t think you liked it that was all. There’s nothing wrong with it if you changed your mind, I know you’ve changed your mind about a lot of things since… you know.”

Thankfully she didn’t pick up on that one. That one did have an edge creeping into it, though he did his best to swallow it down.

“Sorry we can’t all afford platinum.”

If it was possible he was even less comfortable than before. It boggled his mind to think that she had gone from being a woman with a pretty sizable salary in her own right to someone who had to buy a wedding ring in a metal she didn’t like because she couldn’t afford it. What’s more, it was her choice. She had made the choice to move out of LA completely and to move back home to a job that was completely beneath her talents and pay scale. He could understand her moving out, but he really couldn’t understand why she’d given up her entire career when she’d always enjoyed it so much. It wasn’t as if she couldn’t afford to live in LA herself. Maybe she wouldn’t have had the benefit of him paying the bills any more, but she could have done fine. And if not in LA, somewhere more commensurate with the person she was than the backwater part of Tennessee they called home. It was a big country and he couldn’t live in all of it.

“Actually…” A thought occurred to him. “I can’t believe I forgot about this but you know there’s still the money that you put in our joint account, right?”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously. I hadn’t even given it a second thought until now, but I can imagine with the wedding costs and everything you could really use it. And no I’m not saying that to be an ass about your income either.”

Reese wasn’t even able to muster sarcasm this time. She blinked at him in disbelief, unable to process what she was hearing. After waiting a little too long for a reply that wasn’t forthcoming he rushed on anyway.

“I mean, what with how fast you left and everything I guess neither of us… umm, anyway, it’s got to be a decent amount and you should have it back. No need for you to get stuck with a ring you don’t like, I mean, you… got to wear it the rest of your life and all. You should have one you want.”

Her lack of verbal response was beginning to unnerve him. She was actually gaping.

“I, uhh… I guess if I give them a call later and I can just have them wire it? They can probably check the records for how much went in there from you.”

Something about the practicalities finally broke her from her stupor. “Uhhh… okay. Yeah. Please.” The words she knew she ought to be saying were ‘thank you’ but she was too stunned. He’d actually said something helpful instead of nasty; that took some adjusting to.

“Okay. I will. Good luck with the rings, though, whatever you pick.”

If that change of topic seemed sudden all became clear when Mr Walker reappeared – apparently Justin had heard him coming. She continued to stare down at the rings in front of her in a stunned hush as Justin paid for the repair to his dad’s watch and mumbled an awkward farewell to both her and the owner. She didn’t see him leave, just heard the tinkling of the bell and the light click of the door behind him.

“So, we made a decision?” He asked cheerfully.

“Umm…” Reese bit her lip and then shook her head. Her fingers rubbed at her aching temples. “You know what, I need a second opinion, I’ll bring Drake back with me another time.”

“Sure thing, I’ll…” She was already departing and had flung the door open even before he started the sentence. “Never mind.”

“So exactly how many ‘small chores’ does your mom have on the list?” Trace grunted as he yanked a particularly stubborn weed out of the border. “And more to the point, does she have any ‘big chores’ on the list because I don’t wanna see what qualifies.”

“Ha ha.”

It was hot and they were both sweating, but Justin didn’t mind it nearly so much as Trace did. His mother had batted her eyelids and sweetly suggested that if they ‘weren’t busy’ she had ‘a couple of small things’ that needed doing to the yard. It was as good a way to spend the day as any - it wasn’t like there was a lot to do in such a small town. It was bright and sunny, not a bad day to be outside with the radio playing. He had mowed the lawn, swept the porch and was now weeding. There was something pleasantly mind-numbing about the work and his muscles appreciated a little exertion. The problem with coming home was that it made him slack off on his gym routine and he quickly started getting lethargic if he didn’t stay physically active. It was the side effect of dancing his ass off for a couple of decades; too much inactivity made him twitchy.

The domesticity certainly kept him humble at any rate. There weren’t any assistants or paid lackeys to handle this one for him.

“Hey Timberlake, can I get a little help here?”

Justin looked up and dropped the trash bag in surprise. Of all the people to be struggling with patio furniture and the latch on his mom’s gate Dean Bennington was about the last person he’d expected.

He’d been avoiding all four of Reese’s brothers since he’d come back to town because he distinctly remembered the threat of bodily injury that had been issued to him ‘if you ever hurt our baby sister.’ It might have been several years ago but they’d been pretty creative in their description. You couldn’t forget it in a hurry. That Reese was in fact the middle child and not the baby hadn’t made this any less intimidating since all four were fairly athletic and could follow through. Although she had never dished on why they’d broken up he figured people could take an educated guess; her open hostility had to be a pretty significant clue. Her brothers were not slow and any one of them might have worked out that he was due punishment.

Even so, there was nothing in Dean’s demeanour to suggest he meant harm. In fact it was notable only by how entirely jovial and normal it was - they had always got along pretty well but he’d assumed that would be a thing of the past after the break up. There was no difference at all here; it could have easily been twelve months ago as the present day. The man was just standing there unsuccessfully trying to work a gate latch with his hands full.

He jogged over and quickly swung the gate open before grabbing one of the chairs.

“Thanks, man. I got a couple more of these in the truck, you mind giving me a hand?”

“Sure thing. What’s this for?”

“Apparently you’re hosting our entire clan tomorrow, your mom not tell you?”

Justin snorted. “Come on. You know that’s not how this works.”

Dean chuckled. “True, true. Advance notice makes the whole thing way too easy, especially when I have kids to wrangle. Far better to just not tell us and then get mad if we had other plans. Hey Ayala!”

“Dean!” Trace gave a quick salute before focusing back on the flower bed and thinking how typical it was that the moment he got to the really gnarly patch Justin ditched for an easier task.

“So how’s tricks?” Dean asked as they set the chairs down on the patio and started marching back out towards his truck (where another six chairs and a fold up table were waiting). “Haven’t spoken to you in an age, man, how’s the big city?”

“Oh, you know, same old. Only just got back from the tour so came home for some downtime. You? How’s Jenna and the kids?”

“Pretty good, thanks, all running as usual but with less sleep.”

They got to Dean’s beaten up blue Ford truck and Justin had to smile. At least some things didn’t change. Back in the day, long before any romance had blossomed, Dean had attempted to teach all three of them to drive in the thing. It had not gone well. His wife was constantly trying to make him get rid of it, but Dean claimed the dents were all ‘character.’ He’d never convinced any of them with that line - and the truck definitely looked ridiculous parked to the brand new Beamer Justin had bought for his parents - but at this stage it would have felt wrong to see him driving anything else.

It was funny things like this that allowed Justin to feel a little more at home in the town again, even if he was still finding it hard to relax. Some things endured, and at least there were some members of the Bennington family who didn’t hate him (he assumed that when Dean said ‘the entire clan’ was descending he didn’t include that particular member).

“Good. And the team?” Justin asked, referring to the high school football team he helped out with. Dean’s actual job was as a foreman at the local construction company but he volunteered as an assistant coach.

“Not bad, freshman talent pool was a little sparse this year but we’re ticking along. Clark’s looking good, if he keeps it up we should be able to start him soon without any bitching about favouritism.”

“Nice,” Justin replied as they grabbed the next couple of chairs and started heading back in. Clark was the youngest Bennington, there was a bit of a gap between him and the rest of his siblings.

“Whoa lil’ bro, watch out!” At the last second Dean shot an arm out and managed to prevent Justin from tripping over a stray broom. Trace had left it strewn across the path.

“You better not let Reese hear you call him that!”

It was one of those jokes that Trace made reflexively before his brain caught up and realised that it was too awkward. Immediately all three men became visibly uncomfortable, fidgeting and shifting from foot to foot, not able to look each other in the eye. Since the three families had all been so intertwined for so long the second the engagement had been announced the two elder Bennington boys had taken great delight in calling Justin ‘lil’ bro,’ emphasis on the ‘lil.’ It was a bit of affectionate condescension. It had stuck and it still came automatically to Dean’s lips. It was so ingrained that neither of them would have noticed it if Trace hadn’t brought it up. Yet he had brought it up so now they were both embarrassed and ill at ease.

Trace was aware of the evil expression being shot his way for that bit of handy work. It was surreptitious but deadly.

“Heh, it was Olly taught her to punch so I’m not worried. If it had been Sam I’d need to watch my mouth a little closer.”

Dean being Dean he managed to smile and play it off, but suddenly the friendly chat dissipated. It didn’t escape Justin’s notice that he was suddenly working faster and making his excuses rather than hanging around to catch up further.

**

“Are you sure this is a good idea?”

“Dean’s away, not like he’ll find out. Oliver still owes me so he’s keeping quiet.”

“I’m not worried about Dean; I’m worried about living long enough to have to worry about Dean. Don’t you remember last time?”

Reese stuck her tongue out at him. “That was forever ago, I didn’t even have my license then. Just get in the damn truck.”

“Alright, but if you kill me you’re going to owe the record company a lot in damages.”

Justin had to jiggle the handle a little before it would actually perform its function. The door swung open and the smell of cigarettes and pine hit him with force. It was a nasty combination.

“So your brother took up smoking, huh?”

“The dumb thing is he thinks the freshener covers it up.” Reese jabbed an index finger at the tree hanging from the rear view mirror, making it swing.

Justin clambered in and looked over at his friend critically. It had been eight months since he’d been home, the band’s schedule was that crazy, but in that time his little pal seemed different. He’d assumed the dress she’d worn to dinner at his house was an aberration, but apparently not. Gone was the standard issue shirt and jeans combo he was used to. Her worn out scuffed leather boots were still there, so at least that hadn’t changed, but she was in a denim skirt and a clinging tank that showed far more skin than he was used to from her. She’d never been a tomboy but she’d always dressed more like a feminised version of her brothers than a girly girl. Her hair was curlier and he spotted a hint of lip gloss. The nail she’d tapped against the freshener was neat and manicured. It was disconcerting.

“So where are we even going?”

Reese pulled away from the sidewalk and ignored the protesting of the truck’s clutch. It was a clapped out heap of junk but since it was her brother’s pet project he was very protective of it.

“Apparently there’s going to be a comet tonight and I figured our spot would be prime viewing since it’s elevated.”

‘Our spot’ referred to the meeting place they had always used as kids. It was a short walk through the park, but since it was up a steep incline a lot of people were too lazy to ascend. The three of them had spent many hours undisturbed up there, to the point that they were very territorial and almost offended when anybody else bothered to make the trek.

“Also,” she continued, “it’s a good excuse to catch up. I’ve seen you like three times since you’ve been home yet I still don’t feel like we talked or I know what the heck you’ve been doing.”

Justin snorted. “You could just read it in Tiger Beat.”

Reese gave him a long suffering huff. “You have no idea how many people bring that shit up to me asking if it’s true or not. Just so you know, I’ve been telling them your favourite colour is neon orange not baby blue.”

“If you’re trying to mess with them that seems pretty lame.”

“Just wait until you see how many girls turn up in it and how crappy they look at the party tomorrow. Neon orange suits nobody.” Justin laughed in response and she chuckled along with him. “Seriously though, it’s kind of insane even just knowing you. If it’s this bad here where you’re nowhere around then God knows what it’ll be like if Mom ever lets me visit. You know they pretty much flipped their lids when that rumour about you and Britney went around? I didn’t hear about anything else for a damn week.”

Justin’s eyes flicked uncomfortably away, only for a second, but Reese caught it nonetheless and took it as confirmation. It was hard to identify why her stomach dropped slightly. It wasn’t that she had a problem with anyone he dated; she found it intimidating that he was hobnobbing with all these rich and famous people now. Sometimes she felt incredibly far away from him, even though the three of them still kept in close contact by phone. She was stupendously proud of the success the group was starting to have, nobody deserved it more than her best friend, but she worried about him slipping away into the bright lights. There was a distinctly Timberlake shaped hole in her life when he wasn’t around and she missed him more than she would ever admit. It was hard to dismiss the fear of him out growing their small town and the people in it, including her.

“Maybe you should give ‘em something to talk about for me, throw them off my scent.”

“No thank you.” Her mouth screwed up in distaste. “One date with Brock was enough to put me off that for life.”

Now it was his turn to fidget in his seat. She was not only wearing skirts, she was dating jocks now? He hated being so out of the loop while he was away. Of course he was always running up the phone bill talking to her and Trace, three-way calling was a gift from the telecommunication gods, but it wasn’t the same. They would be laughing uproariously telling him stories which clearly you had to be there for and he had to pretend he found it as hysterical as they did. Mostly he was bummed he was missing out. Logically he knew he was gaining a hell of a lot more and he had nothing to complain about, but sometimes he wished he was by the pool with them and not at yet another photo shoot.

“Besides, I’m way too busy studying for that anyway. Did I tell you I got into that summer program at Vanderbilt?”

“No. What program?”

“Business Leaders of America is doing this career thing, you get to go to the college for a couple of weeks and they do all these workshops and you have to make up and run your own business and compete against other teams… plus it’s a couple of weeks in Nashville, which should be great. My GPA is just skating the minimum requirement so I need to keep on top of it.”

Justin refrained from mentioning that being out so late on a school night probably wouldn’t help with that. “Business Leaders of America? I had no idea you were into that kind of thing.”

“Mr B started this club at school. I only went along for extra credit but… I don’t know.” She shrugged. “Kind of got into it. Besides, if I ever want to get out of this town I guess I got to have some kind of plan.”

Well wasn’t she full of surprises that evening? Reese had always seemed so very Millington – and so very country, like her brothers (who were clearly going to follow in the blue collar footsteps of their maternal line no matter how much their dad tried to get them into academics). He’d always imagined she’d be like so many in the town, settle down and marry a local boy and pop out some kids. She’d never shown any particular ambition before.

“Well hey.” He shrugged it off in customary style, with a joke. “When you get all those fancy business skills you can come run my shit for me. Thank God Lou and Johnny handle everything because I have no damn clue. I’m just waitin’ on my check!”

Resse turned her head to him in shock. “You mean you’ve been working like demons for three years straight selling millions and you haven’t been paid yet? Geez!”

“I know, right?” He exclaimed. “But apparently this is normal, you have to wait for all the royalties to be calculated and processed and stuff. We get expenses in the meantime.”

“Oh… I guess that makes sense. Seems weird though, you’re like huge pop stars and not rich yet. When you are, will you buy my brother a better car?” She griped as she struggled to shift gears.

“You mean you don’t want me to buy you one first?”

“I thought that was implied.”

When she smiled at him he noticed that she was quite pretty. It wasn’t that he’d thought she’d looked bad before but it was the first time he’d really thought about it. She’d become nice looking as she’d matured (at all of seventeen). The breeze from the open window was whipping through strands of her hair. The strong nose that had been too much for her younger face sat better in her now filled out features, and her cheeks held a healthy flush. Maybe it had been previously hidden by all those plaid shirts. Nobody looked their best in plaid.

“I don’t know how much you think this check is gonna be but I doubt I’ll be able to buy everybody cars just yet.”

“Eh, buy me a cheeseburger at the general store and that’ll work.”

**

“Mom, you home?” Reese called out as she let herself into her parents’ house.

Since her boss had yet again decided to ‘take a meeting’ at the golf course she had nothing to do at the office and had cut out early. She seemed to spend her life doing that, not because she was work shy but because he really seemed to have little use for her. That was strange for the named partner at such a small law firm; he ought to be generating a lot of activity for his subordinates. A great deal of the business depended on him after all. He never seemed to do much except have lunches and play golf, yet the books testified to the fact that he was somehow making money doing it. She could only imagine he was brokering a lot of out of court settlements on the green.

Reese hated having so much time on her hands all the time. It made her feel listless (yet one more reason to start her family as soon as possible). She was bored, so she’d come to do some more work on the homemade place cards and table decorations they were going to have. They were keeping all of it at her mother’s because Drake’s hands seemed permanently covered in oil. It was so ingrained into the loops and whirls of his skin that no amount of scrubbing removed it completely. The result was lots of black fingerprints, so he was not allowed anywhere near the wedding stuff.

“In here honey!”

It sounded like it was coming from the direction of the front room. Throwing her keys into the bowl, Reese put down the bags she was laden with and reached down to pull off her boots. Well trained by her mother, she put them neatly on the rack with the others before gathering her things back up and padding into the room.

“Oh, hey Lynn,” she said in surprise. “Didn’t realise you’d be here.”

“Oh it was just a fly by so we could go over tomorrow.” The older woman smiled warmly at her. The expression was always so open and friendly even after everything that it made Reese feel horribly guilty for some reason. She had no idea what she should be feeling guilty about, but it did.

“Tomorrow?” Reese asked.

“We’re having a cookout at their place, we decided,” her mom informed her. “Your brothers are all coming and Dean is bringing the kids. How about you and Drake?”

Was her mother insane? Did she not realise who was staying at Lynn Harless’s house?

“Gee, umm…” This was a moment to think fast. “I’d love to but we already said we’d go into Memphis for his friend’s gig. Next time?”

Drake did in fact have a musician friend who regularly played in Memphis, though he was out of state doing some fairs. It was a plausible lie but it still wasn’t fooling anyone. Even so, everyone was far too polite to do anything except feign believing it.  

“Sure thing, honey.” Lynn managed another  smile but it was dimmer. A swift change of subject was in order. “So, what’s in the bags?”

“Oh, more supplies for the table settings.” Reese lifted them higher as if to demonstrate. “Is the rest of the stuff still in Dad’s study Mom?”

“Yes sweetie.”

“In which case I’ll go hunker down in there and get out of your hair. If I’m not out before you go Lynn it was great to see you.”

“You too, Reese. Love to Drake.”

Reese smiled before promptly disappearing and the two women sat in silence for a moment. Neither of them was aware that they were waiting until she was out of earshot; it was all subconscious.  

“Is it weird if I say I miss your daughter?” Lynn broke the silence.

“No, I know what you mean.” Elizabeth gave a sigh. “She’s stressed out about this wedding anyway but she is still kind of skittish around you, Justin’s the same with me. I guess we can’t take it personally.”

Twirling a curl around her finger, Lynn’s lips pursed thoughtfully. “We just keeping giving it time, I guess. Think they’re still getting used to it.”

“Heck, I’M still getting used to it. I really shouldn’t have let myself get so invested in the two of them.”

“Ditto,” she replied. “Got far too into the idea of us being in laws - not only the kids but the four of us being family as well.”

Elizabeth stared at the now empty doorway after her daughter. She would never voice it, it sounded too terrible even for her closest confidantes, but she found herself withdrawing from Drake for that reason. He was estranged from his parents anyway so part of that fantasy was already avoided, but it was hard not to hold him at arm’s length. She didn’t want to get so fond of another prospective son in law only to have it go up in smoke again – especially if it was followed by another dramatic change of personality. She had no problem if Reese’s ambitions changed, she simply wanted her to be happy, but it was difficult to understand what was going on behind it. Her refusal to discuss the break up hadn’t helped there.

Then again, she supposed she’d have a tough time getting as attached to Drake as to Justin even if she tried. Not through any fault of his - he was a decent young man who clearly adored her baby. It was unavoidable since Elizabeth hadn’t watched him grow up and wasn’t best pals with his mother.

“It just makes me sad that she’s uncomfortable around me now,” Lynn continued.

“Like you said, we just give it time.”

“Hmm. I’m not sure any amount of time is going to make her show up to my house if she thinks my son will be there.”

“Oh well. Nine out of ten Benningtons still ain’t bad I guess.”

They chuckled together before easing onto a less prickly topic.

“I don’t like it.”

“What, you’d prefer it if he was over here being an ass?”

“He is an ass, it’s his natural state.”

“I don’t disagree with you but he has shown no signs of coming over here, he hasn’t been a dick to anybody, and he actually followed through and got you your money back which must have made your credit card very happy. Maybe you should just accept that he’s attempting maturity for once in his life and enjoy it while it lasts.”

Nadine was trying not to roll her eyes or show her impatience, but it was difficult. Reese would not stop yapping about her least favourite person in the world and it was getting very dull. Nadine didn’t like talking about Justin Timberlake at the best of times; when she was at a party trying to enjoy herself was the last occasion she wanted to chat about it. It was hard to believe Reese these days when she claimed not to care - people who didn’t care had better things to talk about. It was reaching the level of self-absorption and it was getting to the point where she didn’t want to socialise with her any more.

“I just know he’s up to something. The sting’ll come later.” Reese tossed her hair back behind her shoulder and shook her head.

Her eyes kept flicking over to her ex fiancé, waiting for the approach she knew would come. They’d been at the cookout for about two hours now and he hadn’t gone anywhere near her, he was doing the rounds socialising, but she knew the reprieve could only be temporary. No matter what he’d said to her in the store she knew full well that he couldn’t resist torturing her. For some reason he liked to prove that he still wielded influence in her life. On more than one occasion before he’d started off being reasonable, she’d got her hopes up that he was going to be civil but then he’d gone and hit her with the whammy. There was no way she was letting her guard down now.

“Whatever,” Nadine replied. “Did Drake say when he’d get here?”

“He texted to say he’s wiped and he’ll probably go straight home. Said to have fun without him. God, I wish Trace would leave him for two God damned seconds so I could go say hi.”

She’d tried. That was another hope of relief gone. Drake’s presence would have at least ensured they stopped talking about the pop star but that was now out. Nadine picked at a loose thread on her shirt, wondering which change of topic she could make that would actually stick this time. The wedding would work but she was fairly bored of that subject too. She couldn’t wait until it was over and she got her best friend back, the one who was actually interested in other people’s lives.

“I need to go to the bathroom so I’ll be back.”

Well, if Nadine couldn’t change the topic she could go and subtly get ‘distracted’ by somebody else on her way back from the facilities. That would work.

There was some little part of Reese’s mind that knew she was being obsessive and irritating. Unfortunately it was buried under a lot of indignation and bruised pride. Perhaps it had been a mistake attending, but she had been determined not to let Justin’s presence stop her. Heck, she had a much better claim to the nostalgia aspect of the evening than he did; he’d barely been around for high school. For a while she’d worried that people would stare between them, waiting for some show down, but that fear had quickly been allayed. She seemed to be the only person who cared - at least outwardly, because no matter what Nadine said she knew Justin would not be able to restrain himself for long. If he hadn’t been able to resist picking on her at her own engagement party there was no way he’d be able to resist this occasion of all occasions.

Even so, there was something reassuring about the familiar scene. Everybody was a little older, had a little more paunch on them. The women were wearing more sensible shoes. Still they all looked the same. The kegs and red solo cups were the same. The smoke and meat smell of the grill still lingered pleasantly in the air and somebody had managed to dig out the same tired looking decorations. Even the music was still firmly stuck in their high school days. She was surrounded by the people she’d grown up with and the reason she was so tetchy was probably her resentment at feeling like it was all tainted. One of the two people who’d been by her side had turned out to be somebody she didn’t know at all. The memory could no longer be trusted, even though at the same time it brought her comfort. It confused her and she did not react well to being confused.

When her phone went off she answered without thinking, assuming it would be Drake.

“Hi.”

“Reese? Hi, it’s Tiffany.”

“Tiff… oh my God, hey!” That was a surprise. “How you been?”

“Good, good. Umm, I’m really sorry to call you out of the blue like this…”

“Lord don’t be sorry, it’s great to hear from you! Just a little surprised is all.”

Tiffany was a Los Angeles friend. Very few of her Los Angeles friends had been spoken to more than a couple of times since she had abruptly departed. She liked their Facebook statuses and made encouraging comments, sent the odd text, but the friendships had gone from very close to superficial practically overnight. It wasn’t that she didn’t love them; their lives had just very drastically diverged from each other. They were unlikely to come to Tennessee for visits, there was no way she was going to LA to see them, and the friendships had naturally dwindled as a result. Their lives were so different now that they didn’t have a huge amount to talk about other than their shared history.

“Yeah, umm…”

“Tiff?” Now she was worried. That tone and that pause were definitely not good.

“I’m sorry, I…” It was painfully obvious she was choked up, and Reese’s heart was sinking deeper with every word. “There’s no way to ease into this, I… I was calling to tell you that Harmony was in an accident and she’s… she passed away.”

Reese clapped a trembling hand over her mouth to keep from crying out and drawing attention to herself. A couple of sharp breaths in were needed before she could speak. “Oh my God. What happened?”

“They skidded to avoid something on the freeway and hit the barrier. Steve got out with a broken leg but she hit her head. I just wanted to call and let you know, I’m helping her mom call round everyone. The funeral’s on Tuesday, do you think you could make it sweetie?”

“Oh, I…”

That was a question. She doubted her boss would even notice she was gone, but even after Justin giving her those savings back the airfare would be a bitch to cover with so many wedding expenses on her plate. That was before she even started on the emotional minefield that would be returning to those people she’d walked out on, and under these circumstances. Was she up to this?

“Let me find out if I can get off work.”

That was a cop out and she knew it. The boss wouldn’t care, her parents would loan her the money. The only actual question was whether she had the guts to go.

**

“You know, it’s kind of lame to sneak out of a party where you’re the guest of honour.”

“I’m kind of sick of being the guest of honour,” Justin whined as they finished the climb up to their spot. “The whole point of coming home is that everybody’s known me forever and isn’t supposed to give a shit.”

“Oh poor baby.” Reese rolled her eyes. “People just want to catch up, it’s not like they put out a red carpet for you.”

“It’s frickin’ exhausting. I can’t turn around without somebody else being all over me and having to do the whole peppy chat thing. I came here to relax, for fuck’s sake.”

“Jesus Christ, when did you get so damn grouchy? It’s a cookout not a launch party!”

“Ahhh, I’m sorry peanut.” He dropped his head to her shoulder briefly before squeezing her arm. “I’m just tired. Don’t think I anticipated how much more work it is when it’s just me. I figured I still had to do all the interviews and all the shows in the group so solo shouldn’t be any different, you know? But somehow it’s just… more. And I know it’s nice that people want to hail the conquering hero and all but honestly I’d rather chill with you and Trace. I feel like in the last couple of months I have small talked every damn person from here to DC and I’m out of inanities. My brain is just burned out right now.”

“Eh, I guess I get that.” Reese dropped onto the grass and folded her legs under herself. “I felt a little like that during all those mixers my first week. Felt more like freshman year of college all over again than a graduate program.”

“Whereas now after your first month you’re an old pro?” He teased as he sat down next to her. Where she sat lotus style, he sprawled out propped up on his elbows and stretching his legs in front.

“Eh, LA’s not so big once you get used to it.” She shrugged. “Besides, I kind of had to get good at it since when I finally got to move into the same city as my best pals they both blew straight of town to go jet set and I needed new friends. I can take a hint, you know.”

“Hey, first chance I get I’m finding you some place on my staff so you can come with. I missed ya.” Justin sat back up and threw an arm around her shoulders.

A chestnut head of hair came to rest on his shoulder and Reese burrowed in beneath his arm. A waft of her raspberry scented shampoo hit his nose. It was a pleasantly warm night; they were both clad in shorts and t-shirts. The stars were out and for a few minutes they sat quietly watching them. Justin had always found it refreshing that he didn’t necessarily need to talk when he was with Reese. He also found it refreshing that while she understood his fame and supported his career she wouldn’t take any bull from him about it. She would tell him if he was getting too big for his boots but equally she didn’t dismiss his problems as some kind of rich boy stupidity. Other people did that sometimes, like his issues were invalid because he had money – as if that was supposed to make his life perfect.

It was hard to find the same understanding from people outside the business, and he valued it even more because it came from somebody who had been there before the fame. His circle of trust was pretty small these days; a lot of people couldn’t be allowed in it unless they had equal amounts to lose. There weren’t a lot of people who were in there purely because he knew they’d rather die than sell him out. Trace was one, Reese was another. After the rollercoaster of the last year he’d been ecstatic to know that she was finally reuniting the trio by heading out to LA as well. It was a sign of his life settling back down.

He really had missed her. He’d found himself leaning a lot on Reese in the past months. Maybe it was because she wasn’t physically there - she wasn’t involved in the petty day to day annoyances of his life, had no personal stake in them. They communicated by phone and e-mail mostly, but somehow she’d felt like his secret back up.  The girl was always there with a sympathetic ear and always on his side. When he had so many people clamouring for his time and attention or telling him what he should or shouldn’t do, having someone so unconditionally Team Justin had been an invaluable source of strength. She wasn’t blowing up his phone every five minutes demanding his attention like some, but if he called her she picked up. The flip side of her honesty was that he knew when she was telling him off then he really had screwed up, but that was constructive even if painful.

Sometimes he relied on her a little too much for his own good.  He could admit it; sometimes he’d been jealous of her previous boyfriends. He liked being the number one guy in her life (Trace might have objected to that assessment, but it was true Justin was that little bit closer with Reese). He’d also occasionally caused trouble in his own relationship by going OTT on occasions like Reese’s birthday or when she came out to visit. The jealousy was unfounded but girlfriends tended to resent the competition. They had something of a point. It was only natural he supposed - when you were friends with such an attractive girl you did at least notice and have the hots a little, even if it didn’t ever happen. He’d thought about it more than once, and if Reese had ever shown some sign of reciprocation… it was a moot point though. Being his best friend was enough.

“Hey, full moon.” She pointed up at the sky.

“Heh.” Justin’s eyes flicked up. “Hadn’t even noticed. Do you remember when we used to sneak out here with Sam’s telescope claiming we could see Mars?”

Reese snorted with laughter. “Like we had any fucking idea where anything was. Moon was about the only thing we could find.”

“Well it’s a marvellous night for a moondance…” He started to croon, to which her response was an elbow in the ribs. “With the stars up above in your eye…”

“You are such a cheese ball.”

“A fantabulous night to make romance…” He leaned right into her ear and put on his best baritone, sweeping his hand smoothly out in front of them as if to show off the view from the hill. “Neath the cover of October skies…”

“It’s July, moron, and your damn stage act don’t work on me. I can’t believe girls lap that shit up.”

“All except you. Why are you so immune to my charms?”

“Maybe because I met you.”

Reese couldn’t quite look Justin in the eye when she said that. She’d actually had a crush on him for some considerable time, probably since high school graduation. It had never gone anywhere. He’d got into a relationship and she hadn’t waited around. Nobody ever quite matched up, but she knew that was because she was judging unfairly. She couldn’t expect every guy to have known her all her life.

“That hurts, peanut.”

“I’m sure the hordes will soothe your ego.”

“I don’t know. Maybe I care more what you think than all of those thousands upon thousands of girls who worship me.”

He hadn’t intended to sound quite so serious. He’d meant to imply that she was the idiot for not meeting popular consensus - not that she was right.  It was wholly true however; Justin cared an awful lot about Reese’s opinion of him. Whenever he made a misstep in the press she was usually the first person he asked about it. Any time she agreed that it was him rather than the journalist at fault it plagued him for several days after. His publicist would kill for that level of influence over his behaviour.

“Yeah, right. Why would you?”

If his reply had been a little too serious then hers was definitely much too serious. He didn’t like it. He tapped her chin with his index finger, tweaking it affectionately. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“I was just kidding!”

“No you weren’t. Which is horse shit, by the way, don’t you know how important you are to me?”

“Shut up…” She started squirming under his arm, her cheeks going red.

“Don’t get all coy about it. You know I give way more of a shit about your opinion than a bunch of randoms.”

“Come on, Justin, you knew what I meant. You don’t care thaaaaat way, the moooooondance way.”

Once again her attempt to play it off failed to deter him. “How do you know?”

Reese didn’t particularly appreciate this line of joking. She’d come to terms with being the only one carrying a torch, but there had been times at which being unrequited while he was happily ensconced elsewhere was very painful. Equally sometimes it was hard to be the friend he relied on so much, knowing that was all she was. She had dealt with it but that didn’t mean she appreciated the reminder.

“I tend to assume that if a guy hasn’t made a move after, oh, four years? It’s a big hint that he’s not gonna.”

Her tone was much more successfully jokey that time. Still it was too late, she’d already set him on the tangent. Justin sat back a little so he could get a better look at her face. They’d known each other a lot longer than four years. That seemed like a weird number to choose… unless she was referring to something else. Something more specific to the subject.

“You sayin’ you been waitin’ on me to?”

Reese tried not to cringe and give the game away any further. That had been a big slip, letting on just how long she’d had a thing for him.

“Because…” It was entirely possible he was about to ruin his friendship, but sometimes if it was worth the having it was worth the try. “If I’d ever thought for a second you were then the wait would have been over.”

Reese felt like she was on fire. Hot pins and needles jabbed painfully at her skin and she was twitching nervously to get rid of the pent up energy that was building. It didn’t help, his grip just tightened. “You’re not funny.”

“Wasn’t trying to be, peanut, I mean it. So were you?”

Emotionally speaking it was like running straight into a wall. All the air crashed out of her lungs and she couldn’t gather her wits to speak. Half of her still suspected he was pulling her leg – he could be very deadpan - and that she would wreck everything if she confirmed his theory. But… he said he meant it. What did that mean if all this time he’d liked her back and she’d never spotted the signs?

“Yeah.” She called his bluff. “I was.”

He was true to his word – the wait was immediately over. His hands were in her hair, his lips were on hers, and it couldn’t have got any more like a rom com unless fireworks had started going off.

**

Reese hadn’t taken any notice of where her feet were guiding her. When she’d hung up with Tiffany they had simply turned and walked her out of the party. They seemed to know where they were going, so why worry? The smell of the trees and the slight coolness of the fresh air were the only thing keeping her calm. Stopping to wonder where she was going was mental energy she couldn’t spare. Her brain was too focused on Los Angeles.

Her hands were stuffed tightly into the pockets of her jeans and she was gnawing on her lower lip. There wasn’t anything for it. She would have to go, unless she wanted to be the world’s worst friend. How could she though? Her previous life had started to feel like a fantasy world, some un-reality she’d never been part of. How she was supposed to deal with that while being there for her friends and not making the whole thing about her she had no idea. Drake wouldn’t be able to come with her – he’d offer but they couldn’t afford both of them taking time out – and neither would Nadine. She distrusted her ability to hold it together by herself and she was dreading it, but she didn’t see how she could in good conscience decline to go. Harmony had been a good friend to her, and so had everybody else there who would need her support. It was selfish not to.

Even the slight shortness of breath as she’d hit the incline hadn’t alerted her to where she was headed, but the familiar sound of singing did. As she’d reached the top she’d finally been able to hear it. It was mumbled and half hearted but its familiarity punched through nonetheless. It stopped her in her tracks.

“Can I just have one more moondance with you, my love…”

“Dude, why you singing?” Trace asked irritably.

Justin was shuffling back and forth from foot to foot, head bowed and pointed towards the grass. Where he looked sad and listless Trace looked wound up and tense. He was slumped on the grass with his gaze directed out over the tops of the trees. Though at first the pose looked casual, there was an unmistakeable tightness in his back and shoulders beneath his t-shirt. In comparison Justin’s demeanour was more of a weary slouch.

“It... never mind, sorry.” Justin had never told Trace how many romantic interludes the spot had seen lest he get grossed out. It had always belonged to the three of them and not him and Reese as a pair, so there was always an element of weird naughtiness to befouling the place with smoochy stuff. Since they had just been talking about her though the memories had sprung forth. “Guess I’m trying to distract myself.”

“Sorry, no, I’m just…”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. You get ornery when you don’t know what to do.”

Some people would have been annoyed by that kind of comment. Trace simply nodded. He pulled his cap off his head and scratched at his scalp, a morose expression falling over his face. His lips pinched together.

“I mean, do we… do we tell her?”

“I think by ‘we’ you probably mean ‘you.’ Don’t think she needs to hear this kind of shit from me, I’ll only upset her before I’ve even opened my mouth to tell her.”

“I just… she hates talking about LA anyway and she’s already got all this wedding shit going on. I don’t want to be the one to stress her out more.”

“I know,” Justin said, “but can you imagine how upset she’d be if she missed the chance to go? We got to give her the option.”

In that moment Reese completely forgot how angry she was at Justin. Instead she rushed forward and nearly scared the two of them to death. When they’d heard the footsteps the last person they’d expected was her. Yet they turned around and there she was, the familiar brown boots poking out from beneath her jeans. Evidently she’d been crying, so it wasn’t much of a stretch to assume that their discussion was redundant.

“Did you hear? About Harmony and Steve?”

“Yeah,” Justin replied. There was softness in his tone that she hadn’t heard from him in a very long time. “I’m so sorry, peanut.”

She didn’t notice the nickname. It was like everything else had fallen away, and she was just that girl again. She was that girl at that spot with those two boys. They were together, her name was ‘peanut’ and nothing had changed.

“I just… God I barely even talked to them lately, except to bug them about their RSVP. I can’t believe she’s gone and the last thing I said to her was probably ‘chicken or fish.’ God…” Her hand rubbed fretfully at her forehead, and when Justin’s settled on her shoulder she didn’t even shrug it off.

“The funeral’s Tuesday.” Trace ventured. “We’re getting the jet back Sunday.”

“Yeah, I need to fix getting out there and a hotel and stuff… God I hadn’t even managed to think about all that yet. Jesus.” Her index finger went to her eye, ineffectually smoothing away tears. Practicalities had paled into significance against the shock.

“You don’t need to worry about any of that, we got you covered. We’ll pick you up at eight on Sunday.”

A little bit of usual proceedings started to creep back in as she gave him a pointed look. “Come on.”

“I’m serious.” Justin persisted. “Our friend died, Reese, the least I can do is help you get to the funeral. I’m not letting you waste your money on that when I got a plane and an empty estate. If you’re worried about it being weird the guest house should still be minimum safe distance for you.”

“You know if this is some excuse to…”

“Jesus Christ, really!"

Justin didn’t let her finish.  He shook his head, his arms folding defensively over his chest. Exploding was probably not the smartest reaction but Lord, he was fed up of this. He was really fed up of her acting like he was some born and raised monster.

“I know I hurt you and I know we’ve both had our dukes up with each other, but don’t you fucking know me better? I fucked up but that doesn’t mean you have to rewrite me into this bastard who was just evil all along, like I’d use somebody’s death to screw with you! You’ve known me all my God damned life, you were fucking closer to me than anybody so why don’t you know I’m not that guy?! Our friend died and you’re upset and I just want to do something to make it easier! Is it really so fucking hard to believe that I only want to help?”

Reese took in a breath and was about to let rip, but she was once again interrupted.

“Come on, Reese,” Trace said. “You know he’s right. This is bigger than the shit that happened between you two so don’t make it harder on yourself just to make a point, you’re not that petty. He’s trying to be nice - let him.”

Luckily there was some tiny voice in the back of her head that knew her friend was right, even if the voices screaming that Justin had no right to lecture her were louder. Being so used to hostility with Justin didn’t mean that he had to be trying to get another one over on her this time. It was pretty stupid to cost herself so much money for the sake of a couple of days. It was true enough that the guest house was well away from the main house, she wouldn’t even have to see him except for the plane ride. Cutting off her nose would not spite her ex-fiancé’s face and in any event, Trace would be there to keep him in check.

“Sorry, sorry,” she muttered, pushing a shaky hand through her hair. “I  just… I don’t know where my head is right now.”

“That’s fine,” Trace replied. “So long as your ass is on your porch at eight am on Sunday ready to go.”

It was hard to know who felt more uncomfortable. Reese felt like a stranger in what used to be her own house. Justin felt like some nervous hotel manager about to be reviewed by a critic.

Trace remained unperturbed, but he had a home of his own to escape to and promptly did so.

There had at least been some baby steps. The flight was mostly silent, but as yet no harsh words had been exchanged. When they’d got there and realised the guest house wasn’t made up, Reese had calmly accepted it. She hadn’t accused Justin of orchestrating it to make her stay in the main building and she hadn’t insisted they get it made up. Without any further comment she had simply said she’d take the guest room. Justin on his part was also trying his best to behave. He had not said a single thing about the shabby looking house that Reese and Drake were currently renting. He had been polite to Drake. They had shaken hands. When the kiss goodbye had happened he had turned his head away subtly and not made any kind of a fuss. For once in his life he had refrained from voicing every thought in his head screaming how weird and unlike Reese the whole situation was.

Trace had departed some time ago but even so his peacekeeping abilities had not yet been necessary. Reese was sitting on the couch with one of their old photo albums; Justin was shuffling around sorting through his mail and listening to his messages. It was domestic and uneventful. If it hadn’t been for the continental rift between them it could have been any Sunday afternoon in their home.

That wasn’t actually true, Justin surmised. You couldn’t mistake this Sunday for any other he’d previously spent with her. Once upon a time it had been his favourite day of their week because of their various Sunday morning traditions. He had no idea if Reese was thinking about any of that as she sat there on the couch, taking up one small corner as if to use as little space as possible. He on the other hand was finding it hard not to think about because he’d missed it so. Sunday afternoon had been full of mundane chores – mowing the lawn, taking out the trash, running out for the random errands she dreamed up - but he’d never minded because it would have come after a lazy morning in bed. First a round of sleepy lazy sex, then the papers and breakfast, it was intimate and sweet and cosy. It had got to the point where he actually resented having guests stay over Saturday night because they’d interrupt that routine.

Today was definitely not like that. Both of them were stressed and both of them were sad. Reese had managed not to cry, but she seemed very small and hunched over as she flipped through the photos. She looked tired and like she’d lost a little colour in her cheeks.

“Hey, umm…” Justin stuttered out nervously.

She looked up with an expectant gaze, but it didn’t seem antagonistic. If there was some small upside to being bereaved it was that neither of them had the energy for their now customary sniping.

“It’s getting late, did you want something to eat? I got nothing in the house but I can order something.”

“Thanks, but I’m not hungry.”

“Okay. If you change your mind let me know.”

“Thanks.”

She looked down again, her chestnut hair falling out from behind her ear.

“What you looking at?”

Possibly he was risking her ire by trying to start a conversation, but he couldn’t take the lack of noise. The dogs would have been great for that, just the sound of pattering feet, but they had stayed with his mom. Every time it got too quiet in his brain he started thinking about Harmony and then poor Steve. It made his head hurt.

“You remember that party on a yacht thing she made us do for his birthday?”

He padded across the room to stand beside the couch and she tried to ignore the sudden smell of his cologne. “Damn, I’d forgotten about this. When we all got stuck inside because the weather was so bad?”

A tight, wistful smile played on her lips, and her fingers brushed over Harmony’s face in a picture of the two of them. They’d been caught mid laugh, arms wrapped tightly around each other in a hug. Reese was in safe old black but Harmony had been in a vivid turquoise. “Isn’t she beautiful? That colour was amazing on her.”

“You both are.”

“God she was so mad about that damn weather…” A choked laugh left her mouth. “Until we started feeding her doubles without telling her and then we were all just too drunk to give a shit.”

Justin reached across to turn another page. “Oh, there’s the hat.”

“God, the hat…” Her hazel eyes clouded over. “Guess I missed my round with that.”

He reflexively winced, waiting for a following barb that didn’t come. It was an in-joke tradition amongst the group that the birthday boy or girl had to spend an hour in a top hat. That hat had seen some things, been some places, and it was probably for the best that relatively little photographic evidence remained. Reese’s last birthday however had been spent in Tennessee with her new fiancé who probably didn’t have a hat.

She continued before he could respond. “I really should have come back to visit while I had the chance, huh?”

This time a tear did spill from her eye, though she hastily rubbed it away with the flat of her hand. Every bone in Justin’s hand itched to reach out and do something – rub her arm, stroke her hair, comfort her somehow. He knew better however.

“Maybe, but they could have come to see you in Shelby too. Everyone was just busy, it’s nobody’s fault. None of us knew this was going to happen.”

She shook her head. “I broke up with you not them. I should have… never mind. Umm, did you get Tiffany’s e-mail about the colours?”

He had noticed that both of them did that – her and Trace. Every time the conversation started touching on something a little too close to home, a little to close to the death, they started talking funeral details instead. Practicalities were easier to focus on. They at least had definitive answers, dos and don’ts.

“Yeah. Not sure what do to, actually, all my dressy clothes are black and white and all my colours are t-shirts and shit.”

Steve had decreed via Tiffany that nobody was allowed to turn up to Harmony’s funeral in black. She’d hate it, he’d said, find it depressing. Similarly, instead of going to a wake they’d all been instructed that the gang were coming out for a boozy send off dinner. Their little circle of friends needed to see her off right, Steve said. What Tiffany had said to Justin but not to Reese was that she didn’t care if she had to sit them at opposite ends of the table, they were both going to attend and ‘put your drama on ice for the evening or I will personally beat you both down.’ He was trying not to read into the fact that she’d felt the need to specify this solely to him.

“That blue shirt I gave you for Christmas with your grey Boss suit,” she replied, not looking up from the page as she turned it over. “It’s smart but still light enough that it’ll work.”

Justin blinked for a moment before nodding. “Thank you, that’s a good idea. You picked your colour yet?”

“Everything I brought with me was black, so guess I’m going shopping tomorrow.”

“Umm… you know there’s still a bunch of your clothes and stuff upstairs?”

Reese finally turned around in her seat to look at Justin, surprise written all over her face. She had purposely left a lot of her things here. Gifts he’d given her, jewellery and bags that were very LA but would have been out of place in a little country town, her car. She had assumed he’d sell it or dispose of it. She hadn’t wanted it any more, hadn’t wanted to take any part of him and their life away with her.

“I guess it was like the money, y’know? Kept meaning to talk to you about what you wanted to do with it but every time we… well. It’s all still in the closet, anyway, so feel free to just go on in whenever.”

“Thanks. Umm… you mind if I do it now?” She softly shut the photo album, smoothing a hand over the leather cover.

“Be my guest. Umm, I need to go out anyway, so take your time.”

That was a lie. There was no need to go anywhere. He desperately wanted to be out of the house away from all these awkward memories, so he was disappearing to Trace’s in search of a drink.

**

It was like walking into a time warp.

Sure, a bunch of the racks were empty. She had still taken at least some of her stuff. There were a couple of new boxes, presumably full of stuff he’d cleared from other parts of the house. Apart from that however everything was exactly as she’d left it. He hadn’t redecorated to get rid of her style, the cream and stone coloured neutrals she’d picked were still there. The plush cream carpet was still the same even though he’d insisted it was impractical and would get filthy. Justin hadn’t tossed out any of her things. Her corner of the closet was still her corner of the closet, with all the shoe racks and jewellery storage he’d had built in for her. There was her vanity and her dressing table, all still waiting for her as if she’d just gone way for a weekend.

Flicking through the racks, her fingers lingered over the material. She had forgotten what expensive clothes felt like. It really didn’t matter whether it cost fifty or five hundred so long as it looked good but she couldn’t deny that she missed the feel of those heavier fabrics. The buttons that weren’t made of cheap plastic felt like a reawakening to her fingertips.

Even in all the familiarity it still somehow felt as if it all belonged to somebody else. The racks were full of skirts and dresses and blazers, it was all very smart casual chic. Though as a PA you could work in almost any industry she had been primarily in advertising, and everybody in advertising had been into fashion. They’d got her hooked too and Justin had always indulged her in it. These days you could only tell the clothes currently in her own wardrobe apart from Drake’s because they were smaller and had less oil stains; she lived in her jeans. For work it was just blouses and black pants. Once upon a time the look had been fashionable young professional, now it was country home girl.

Picking an outfit was easier than she’d thought it would be. She’d rediscovered an aqua coloured jacket that Harmony had borrowed heavily, and she could throw it on over one of her white dresses. Harmony had always liked spring colours, said it was a re-emergence after the sludgy darks of winter. It would feel weird to put it back on, but playing dress up for the day was the least she could do for the friend she’d neglected. The other thing Harmony had always been big on was chunky jewellery, so she supposed that was the next stop. Her friend had always scoffed at the idea of saving anything for special occasions, said that if she paid for it she wanted to get as much use out of it as possible. Something big and splashy was in order.

Pulling open the jewellery drawer was probably the weirdest part of the entire experience. Somehow it was even stranger than walking back into the house or having to speak to her ex. Reese supposed that was because as a symbol of how much her new life had diverged from the old it was probably the starkest contrast. She still knew people with big houses. She still knew Justin, as much as sometimes she wished she could just will his memory away. Trace still had his big car and his Hollywood life. As distant as they had become, she still had friends in LA. What she definitely no longer had was incredibly expensive jewellery, and yet everything she was staring at was still technically hers. Big diamond studs, a Cartier watch, telltale blue boxes hiding bangles and earrings… its collective worth far outstripped her personal assets. Even before they were a couple Justin had bought her some expensive jewellery for birthdays and such, but as soon as they had become an item he’d started doing it just because. It had mounted up.

For a moment she faltered, wondering if wearing any of it would give him ideas. The thought was dismissed as quickly as it came – it was only metal. She was being silly. Besides, she didn’t have to wear any of the pieces that he’d had specially made or bought to mark some significant occasion. Heck, she was sure if she looked long enough she’d even manage to find some cheap mass market thing she’d bought herself and that he couldn’t possibly read into. Why was she even worrying about it anyway? Who cared what he chose to think of her choices these days?

She picked out a number of boxes at random, strewing them across the vanity. One by one she started pulling them open, having to remind herself what was in them. Sure enough, before long she came across a long gold chain with a white enamel disc on it. It would go perfectly with the dress and she’d bought it herself. What had she been so bothered for? It wouldn’t matter at all. None of it mattered until she started tossing the boxes back in their drawers. She picked up a red one in her hand and for the first time noticed that it was the big one.

It wasn’t literally a big box. Ring boxes were small, of course.

Emotionally it was the biggest box she’d received in her entire life and she was completely ill quipped to have come across it. It was short sighted on her part, but she’d never considered it would be here. That seemed dumb now. It should have been obvious, when clearly everything else had been kept. Still no part of her brain had ever thought that he would hold onto the ring she’d yanked off and tossed at the dresser in that hotel room.

It was probably masochism that made her crack open the box and set eyes on it for the first time in over a year. It twinkled in the light just as she remembered, so perfect it was otherworldly. The blue diamond sat flanked by its white sisters on either side. It was her fantasy ring and it was painful beyond belief looking at it. The ring had been beautiful, everything had been beautiful, and what was it now? Some memory hidden away in a box where she couldn’t stand to see it. A black taint hung around it all like a bad aura.

Reese glanced down at her left hand, at the small little diamond sitting on top of its yellow band. There was a tight squeezing sensation in her chest; it made her ache for Drake’s presence. She wanted to be held, reassured that this was all behind her. If he had been there then she wouldn’t be in this house, wouldn’t be looking at this ring, she’d be looking at her future instead of her past. Her future was a much less painful place to contemplate; it was a heck a lot simpler. Still, somebody had to work some hours this week to pay for the wedding to begin that future. She had to be here so it had to be Drake.

“Reese? You in here?”

Nobody’s limbs could ever have worked with such speed as hers did then. Her hands were grabbing boxes and tossing them back in the drawers like her life depended on it. She had just got the last one away and shut the drawers when she heard the footsteps reach the closet.

“Yes, Justin.”

He appeared nervously in the doorframe, hands in his pockets. He’d got half way to Trace’s before deciding that he didn’t really want the company after all. “You find something?”

“Yeah, thanks.”

“Sorry, I didn’t want to disturb you but I’m tired and…”

“No, no, I’ll get out of here and let you hit the sack. Goodnight.”

She ducked her head, a red flush hitting her cheeks as she scurried out past him.

“Night,” he replied to her retreating back.

“Hello?”

“Hey honey. How are you?”

“Hey Nade. What’s up, how you doing?”

“Umm, I asked first. Don’t think you can dodge me like that young lady.”

Reese rolled her eyes from behind her sunglasses and moved the phone cord out of the way of the gear shift. She’d plugged it into one of the car’s many outlets to charge then nearly died of fright when it started ringing through the stereo. She’d forgotten that Justin had some fancy in car speaker. These days it was a novelty to have a car with central locking, never mind one that took your calls and gave you directions.

“I’m fine.”

“I believe you, thousands wouldn’t. What ya doing?”

“Sitting in traffic on my way to lunch with the girls, trying to remember how to work this damn car. It’s making me miss Dean’s truck.”

“Oh that’s nice, having a catch up. I mean, I know the circumstances aren’t nice, but…” Nadine cringed, wondering how she’d already succeeded in putting her foot in her mouth. “You know what I mean, I know you haven’t seen them in a while but it should be good to see them.”

“To be honest I wasn’t really looking to see them ‘til tomorrow, since we’ll be with each other all day, but Tiffany called and Justin basically told me I was putting a dent in his couch. So, lunch.”

“What, like the fucker kicked you out?” Her friend sounded indignant on her behalf.

“No, he wasn’t being a douche for once. As much as I hate to be fair to the bastard, I’ve pretty much been sitting on his couch like a motionless lump since we got here. He said he could hear me thinking too much and it would be good for me to get out of the place.”

Knowing Reese that was probably an astute and helpful observation on his part, but Nadine couldn’t bring herself to credit Justin Timberlake for anything. As much as she tried to be a bigger person some things were asking too much. She only had so much good will to spare and none of it had been on offer to that guy even before the big drama. There was no particular reason for that. Some people simply had bad chemistry; she thought he was conceited and he thought she was abrasive. It was a pure personality clash. Once upon  time there was forced civility for the sake of their mutual loved one, but then he’d done the dirty and given her the excuse she needed to let rip.

“Well, okay. Won’t add it to the list of things I need to punch him for. How’s it been otherwise, he behaving?”

“It’s awkward as all hell but yeah, he’s been civil. Couple of occasions he’s even been kind of nice, which in a weird way scares me more than when he’s getting his asshole on. Honestly though he hasn’t even been the weirdest part, I just feel so… it’s like I just stepped outside for a minute but my life is still exactly where I left it, not like I’ve been gone a year. Except for Harmony. Everything’s all kind of the same but not and my head is not in the place to process that.”

That was playing on her mind the closer she got to the restaurant. She wasn’t far now, only a couple of streets away, but the traffic was buying her a little more time to try and calm herself. These people were her friends and they loved her - yet right now she’d prefer to take her chances with a firing squad.

“That’s understandable, sweetie. It’s the first time you’ve been back there.”

“Yeah, I guess. It’s okay, really, I know I’ll find my feet as soon as I see the girls. Anyway, never mind me, how are you? I miss y’all.”

“Good, I put my application in for the team leader role and I think I’m the only one so far, so hopefully I can get an uncontested run. But I actually I just came away from the florist with Drake which was why I called you, just to say the wedding train keeps on rollin’ and the to do list remains on track.”

“I love you.”

“You should; I’m way too nice to you. Oh, Drake had to go back to work but since I was calling anyway, he said to ask you where his good black shirt is?”

Reese chuckled, smiling at the dashboard as if it was Nadine herself. “Didn’t know he owned one. I thought he had like two white dress shirts and a whole lot of flannel.”

Nadine snorted, hoisting her bag back over her shoulder as she walked along. Since she was picking up the wedding slack for Reese while she was in LA, she still had two more appointments to get to on her lunch break. “Your boy needs some variety in his wardrobe.”

“I’ll work on it. What else is Christmas for if not a subtle way to readjust your husband’s dress sense?”

“Thank God for tux rental or he’d have nothin’ to go with the big white dress. Listen, I got to run honey but are you sure you’re okay?”

Reese’s fingers tapped against the steering wheel. “Yeah. I… I’m kind of nervous. I feel guilty that I haven’t been better about keeping in touch. Especially with it being too late to be sorry in some cases.”

“Never too late to do better so go and eat nice food and catch up. Just remember that while you’re eating all that nice food and relaxing, I am running around like a maniac doing your shit.”

“How many cocktails do I owe you?”

“Currently four, the number may increase depending how hard I have to haggle over corkage with the caterer. Love you honey, take care okay?”

“Love you too, I’ll call you later.”

She had to let Nadine end the call since she had no idea how to make the car do it. It was an effort not to be too disappointed as the traffic finally started to creep forward, putting an end to her delay.

**

“You know what, I’ll admit it, that went better than I thought.”

“What?” Reese laughed, pushing her hair back behind her ear as they walked along the street. “It was your idea! You invited us thinking it would be bad?”

“No!” Tiffany poked her in the arm before linking it with hers. The two of them made a bit of a mismatched pair. Reese was much taller than Tiffany, whose Chinese heritage made her predictably petite, but where Reese was rocking her jeans and a shirt Tiffany was looking very preppy in a shift dress and heels. It was very much Memphis and LA walking down the street together. “I was just worried that it would be… I don’t know. Depressing or morbid or something.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean. But then actually this has kind of made me feel better about tomorrow because…” She shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess Harm was way too fun for it to be a downer talking about her, even now.”

Even the weather seemed fittingly sunny for their reunion. Of course that was typical for the city anyway, but somehow grey and gloomy would have felt inappropriate. Their friend had been much too bubbly for that. They were walking the few blocks to the nearest shopping precinct as Tiffany had some kind of secret errand to run for the funeral the next day. Reese was glad of the opportunity for them to talk one on one, and the combination of fresh air and light exercise was shaking the cobwebs away. Justin really had been right, sitting in that room brooding had lulled her into a stupor.

“Nah, Steve wouldn’t let tomorrow be a downer anyway.” Tiffany said.

“How’s he holding up?”

“Remarkably well, actually. He just keeps saying that she always wanted to keep going and make the most out of life, even when things got shitty, so that’s the best way to honour her now. I mean obviously he’s been upset and everything but he’s astoundingly positive. The leg’s bothering him, but even then he shrugs it off and says it’ll heal soon enough. It’s kind of amazing, really, you really have to admire his attitude.”

“That’s good, it’s really good. How about you?”

She’d been waiting carefully for the opportunity to ask this question, not wanting to do it in a group setting. Within their little friendship group Reese had always been the relative newcomer. She’d met them during her first few months in LA, fresh out of college, but the rest of them had been friends since middle school. They had been at her spinning class and after a few friendly pleasantries before warm ups they had invited her out for a drink after the session one day. They’d been close knit ever since, but Tiffany and Harmony had always been the leaders of the pack. They had a ‘partners in crime’ air about them and she had never taken it as an insult if they were described as each other’s best friends above the rest of them. In the same way her best friend was Nadine, Tiffany and Harmony had a different bond. The idea of one without the other was strange. That was why she’d wanted to ask; if anybody was going to take it hardest then it would be her.

“Honestly?” Her almond shaped eyes glittered with tears. Reese reached across with her spare hand to squeeze her arm. “It sounds so stupid, but I keep going to call her to ask her about what she wants for the funeral. It’s this reflex, like, I know she’s gone but it’s as if my body doesn’t understand it yet. I keep starting to drive to her place rather than Steve’s.”

“That’s totally understandable sweetie.”

“And, I feel embarrassed telling you this, but I was biting my nails until everybody got to the restaurant today.” She reached out her other hand to display her ruined manicure. “I just did not feel safe until I had all my girls in the room.”

“Again, completely understandable.” Reese unhooked their arms and stroked the back of Tiffany’s head comfortingly. “You know when I got your call, I ran off to talk to Trace about it and nearly had a meltdown because I was worried about what I’d said to her last. Because I thought it was some dumb shit about the wedding and not special enough or something. I nearly made up an excuse about today because I felt guilty for not seeing y’all in so long, like I possibly could have known that I wouldn’t get another chance to see her.”

She smiled, nodding and brushing away more tears. “Well at least it’s not just me. I think helping with the funeral helps though, I feel like I’m kind of… I don’t know, fulfilling my friend duties or something. Is that silly?”

“Naw, it’s sweet.” She wrapped her arm around her shoulders and gave her a squeeze.

“Naw? Oh God, you have never sounded more country than you do right now.”

“Shut up!” She squealed. Maybe the jokes were silly but it lifted things up a bit when they were getting too emotional. They’d been doing the same through the entire lunch, using humour to abruptly change the subject.

“You do though. And you definitely look country; I don’t think I ever remember seeing you in pants before.”

“Hey, you can take the redneck outta the country but I’m still Southern born and bred.”

“Please,” Tiffany snorted, “you have never been a redneck. I have to admit I was kind of surprised you moved permanently. I mean, I wasn’t surprised that you left for a while after what happened but I always thought you’d be back, you know? You love it here, and it suits you. That job of yours sounds friggin’ boring.”

“Ahh, I’ll be giving it up soon enough for the rug rats anyway,” Reese smiled.

“Can I be honest?”

“Always, though nothing good ever starts with that question.”

“Nothing bad, I swear! Only I don’t see you as a stay at home mom. I definitely see you as a mom, but… I don’t know.” Tiffany looked down at her feet as they walked. It was as if she expected the blue pumps to fill in the rest of the thought for her. “Like, I always thought the reason you and Harmony got on so well was that you’re both really… dynamic, that’s the word. In different ways, but y’all get shit done. You want something you find a way to go do it. I feel like you’d get bored with nothing besides the kids to worry about. Like you’re bored now because the job’s lame.”

Reese smiled at the teasing drawl she put on ‘y’all.’ “Okay, that could’ve been worse - was really expecting you to say something bad. Had so many people sticking their noses in and warning me off whirlwind marriages that it’s making me paranoid everybody’s about to criticise.”

Tiffany remained silent on that point. She might have shared those misgivings but she knew that sometimes airing them was more alienating than helpful. Sometimes the only thing to do was to shut up and be supportive. She was ready to be proved wrong and she was ready to be proved right; either way it was safest to quietly have her friend’s back and merely deal with whatever came next.

“I think you should move this foxy sounding fiancé of yours out here. They have cars for him to fix here too, and you could get back in your zone. And selfishly, I’d have somebody to go to zumba with.”

“Drake’s not a fan of city life.” Reese shook her head. “And honestly… I don’t know. It’s been so weird being back here, I don’t feel like I fit any more.”

“I think that’s only because you’re stuck in your ex-boyfriend’s house. Which, let’s be honest, is really friggin’ weird even if it did make the trip financially viable. I bet if you came back on your own terms you’d wonder why you didn’t do it sooner. Plus, we miss you.” Tiffany playfully tugged at a lock of her hair.

“I miss you too. And I won’t lie, I miss the job but… I kind of feel like life went another way, I guess.”

“As your friend…” Tiffany trailed off. “I just want you to be happy, you know, because if this whole Harmony thing has told me anything it’s that life’s too short. And you were really happy here. I know JT went and loused up a big part of it but he doesn’t need to louse up the bits that still work.”

“Honestly, I am happy, just stressed over the wedding. I hate wedding planning.”

“Lord, ain’t that the truth. It’s a good job the eventual day winds up being so great because damn that made me want to kill somebody. Usually my mother. Of course Harm said that was stupid and it was only a piece of paper anyway.  Said she didn’t need her relationship to be government sponsored – think she thought she was bohemian or something.”

Reese smiled again. She really was glad that He Who Must Not Be Named had forced her out of the door, because being with Tiffany was making her feel a lot less lonely and ungrounded.

“Oh, we’re here,” she said as they finally approached the party supply store. “So are you now going to finally tell me why we’re here?”

“Guess I’ll have to. So Steve had this great idea…”

“Justin, over here!”

“Reese, Reese! You two back together?”

“Justin!”

“God, you’d think they’d have some fucking respect,” Justin muttered evilly. He kept his expression as blank and emotionless as possible as he continued driving the car forward. Fortunately the crematorium had gates and a guest list, so the paparazzi wouldn’t be joining them for the service. Less fortunately they’d arrived at the same time as a bunch of other cars and the queuing gave them added time to get shots.

“Not sure why you’d think that,” Reese replied. She was trying not to let her mind race off with thoughts of where those pictures would end up and the speculation they’d start. After the first few months of rumours about the end of their engagement the tabloids had lost all interest in her – she really hadn’t missed it. “Respect is something human beings have for other human beings, pond scum doesn’t qualify.”

“True.”

It was as much as they’d said to each other the whole ride over. The silence wasn’t as aggressive as it might once have been, but conversation had remained thin on the ground. Part of that was down to the event and part of it was a simple lack of anything to say to each other. In their tentative new armistice neither of them seemed to know exactly what the score was supposed to be.

Finally they got through the gate, following the other cars along the long and winding drive. Justin’s fingers drummed against the steering wheel, anxious to get this part of the day over with.

“Reese?”

“Yeah?” She answered without looking up at him. She was digging in her purse for her lip gloss. Reapplying it became a compulsion when she was nervous. Something about primping her make up made her feel like she was arming herself for the day ahead - she did it whenever she was facing a bad day at work too.

“Can we make a deal?”

Now she did turn to look at him, her head tilting sideways with a wary slowness. “Depends on the deal.”

“For today, can we pretend that all this shit didn’t happen between us?”

“Umm, not really because I’m engaged.”

“Not like that, don’t be fuckin’ snarky.” His eyes narrowed as he frowned at her. “I only mean that we stop fighting. Today’s going to be kind of shitty for all of us, and I would feel a lot better about it if for the next twenty four hours we could forget the bullshit and I had you on side. I don’t want us to make anybody else feel awkward, and I don’t want to worry that you’re going to bite my head off if I offer you a tissue.”

There was no response, which he took as his cue to continue.

“So just for today can we pretend that you don’t think everything I do is for some ulterior motive? And that if I’m being nice to you it’s because you’ve been my best friend since forever and it’s natural that I should be nice to you? No arguing, no backhanded insults, we just get along like we used to?”

Her head bowed away from him. For a moment she couldn’t form words. There was some feeling in the pit of her stomach that seemed a little bit like guilt; she couldn’t work out why the hell that should be. Something about it was bringing her mind back to his little outburst on the hill, his speech about treating him like he was a monster, and she couldn’t work out why it should bother her. It was outrageously unfair. Any suspicion he got from her he had earned. Justin had cheated on her and smashed her life to pieces. His behaviour towards her had been abominable on multiple occasions since their break up. He’d even admitted it in the jewellery store. Why was she once again letting him warp things until they were her fault?

The really irritating thing was that it all sounded so reasonable. Even though Justin was the one who had done everything wrong and her reaction was entirely justifiable, he was making Reese sound like the immature one for being mad. It would indeed be wholly wrong of her to bring their issues into the funeral today or to make the atmosphere frosty for everyone else. There was also the inconvenient fact of his generosity. The guy had flown her out here, housed and fed her and driven her around entirely at his own expense. When she’d broached the idea of giving him so much as gas money he’d simply shaken his head. At various times some nice things had come out of his mouth. To the objective observer he had acted like the best friend he had until so recently been.

He was good at that, putting everything back in her court. That little kernel of truth would be twisted around until suddenly it was all on her. She really hated that – namely because he was a master at it and she was terrible at countering it. As the car rolled to a stop she once again had to concede the point, as she usually did.

“Deal.”

Before he could respond she had opened the door and clambered out. Trace was already there waiting for her, grasping her hand ready to walk her into the chapel.

“Hey man,” Justin said as he got out and slammed his own door shut.

“Hey. Y’all ready?” He asked them both as he kissed Reese’s cheek.

“As we’ll ever be,” he replied.

**

“Go get ‘em,” Reese whispered to Tiffany with a final stroke of her arm as she was called to speak.

She was dressed in a bright coral, but it hardly stood out amongst the sea of colour in the room. As she walked up to the pulpit she blended into the rainbow.

“Hi everyone, I’m Tiffany.” She swallowed hard, looking nervously out across the room. In a weird way the colours helped. It didn’t feel like such a sombre occasion. “I just want to thank Steve for those beautiful words, first of all… it’s pretty much the perfect description of Harmony, and the funny thing is I think everything I’m about to say just proves that.”

Reese’s head tipped sideways, a thoughtful glaze coming over her eyes. She found herself more listening to than watching the speakers. Her mind was so focused on the words it wasn’t really paying much attention to her vision.

“I wanted to talk about being her friend, and I think what Steve said totally sums that up. Harmony’s attitude to life was always that it is what you make of it, there’s no time to waste, and that’s how she made her family of friends. She didn’t stop to wonder about people or size them up; she just barrelled on in and treated them like she’d known them since birth.”

Justin and Trace’s mouths both curled into similar smirks. It was no lie. The first time they’d attended one of Harmony’s little gatherings with Reese she had swooped in on both of them like she’d known them as long as Reese had. At first they’d assumed she was trying to ingratiate herself with the celebrity, like so many before her. After watching her do the same thing to three other people within the next fifteen minutes they’d realised their mistake.

“She was always welcoming and always open minded about the people she met. If she saw you’d got something she liked or were doing something cool, she didn’t get jealous or start whining that she didn’t get to do it. She’d be thrilled for you, and then she’d go right out and make it happen for her too. All she ever wanted was to be happy and to be having fun, whatever she was doing, and that always rubbed off on the rest of us. She was completely infectious. There are so many things in my life that I never would have done without her egging me on or even just seeing her do it and seeing how easy she made it all look.”

Tiffany’s fingers clenched around the wood of the lectern; she was steeling herself not to cry. She kept her gaze fixed to a spot on the back wall so that she wasn’t tempted to turn it to the picture beside her. Harmony was smiling broadly, her afro hair falling messily over her face which appeared lit from within. It was too hard to look at a face so alive and think its owner was no longer alive.

“She changed all our lives with that attitude, I think, because you couldn’t help but see the results she got and get swept away with her enthusiasm. She was so vibrant, and people were attracted to that. I think almost all my friends I met through her – she just kind of picked us like she was collecting us, like we were Pokemon and she had to catch us all.”

A low rumble of suppressed laughter sounded through the middle rows of the hall, where most of the friends had gathered. They’d left the front rows for family.

“Like when she decided we had to be friends with Sarah. I don’t even remember exactly why, I think because she’d said something funny in some class that I wasn’t even in, but she dragged us all over to Sarah’s table for lunch and acted like we’d never sat anywhere else. Treated her like she’d always been there. Even after the times where it turned out that she’d been a bit too trusting, she kept believing the best in people. She’d keep taking them right into her heart from the very first second, even though that resulted in a few embarrassing situations and some reeeeeeally unsuitable boyfriends. Not Steve.”

More polite laughter punctuated the speech.

“She’d always keep swearing she’d never be taken in again, would go slower, but she never did. I think the longest stretch she ever managed was about six months, we finally thought she was breaking the habit, but then after we talked with Reese at spinning a couple of times she literally just pointed over, said ‘she’s one of ours’ and invited her out for drinks. Did almost exactly the same thing to Shauna, though I think that was on the poor thing’s first day of work rather than the gym.”

Reese’s hands had been folded tightly together in her lap for most of the service, but now they went to her face. They were smoothing back her hair, tugging at her lip, trying to self-soothe. There was a smile and a grimace fighting for supremacy, like her muscles couldn’t decide which emotion to express.

“Once she had you she wasn’t letting go, either.  When Reese decided to move back home all I heard for a month were threats to go out there and haul her back.”

That comment was the grimace’s victory blow – her whole face screwed up in agony. Instinctively she crumpled round to her left, where a masculine arm was already curling itself around her back. She buried her face in his shoulder and started inhaling deeply, trying not to burst into sobs. Silent tears were one thing but interrupting the service with your wailing was another.

“And I think the fact that this room is so packed out today goes to show how much we all loved her and how much she gave to us by being that person. She was silly and funny and irrepressible, and she made us all lighten up and enjoy ourselves. We knew she was always going to be there in our corner, so we always had her back in turn. And that’s why we’re all here, even though I know a bunch of people had to fly in last minute. She’s the kind of person everyone always goes out of their way to show up for.”

Reese was no longer able to listen to the talk as it went on; she was preoccupied with trying to breathe in and out. Her face remained against her companion’s collarbone, hiding from the other mourners who might notice her reaction. His grip was warm and solid, probably the only thing keeping her mind anchored and in control. If it had been a stranger sat next to her she would have been unable to contain the meltdown.

Her fingers tightly clutched the blue shirt, and she was so distraught she had completely forgotten that it was Justin not Trace sitting next to her.

**

“God. It’s like one extreme to the other.” Trace shook his head as he surveyed the scene before him.

“I know, right?” Reese had recovered from her earlier fit. She couldn’t have dreamed that as little as ninety minutes later she’d be laughing her head off and having actual fun.

It had been extremely embarrassing when she’d snapped out of her reverie to realise that she was all snuggled up to her ex-fiancé, but true to their little deal Justin had not said a word about it. He’d offered her a tissue and shrugged off her worries about staining his waistcoat.

Tiffany’s secret mission had been to go out and buy some helium balloons and labels. Steve’s planned tribute was a recreation of one of her favourite events, the enormous birthday party they’d thrown for her thirty first birthday (Harmony’s logic was that you shouldn’t have to wait for an age with a zero to make a big deal). It had been prom themed and as part of that there was a photographer. The poses started out as formal and civilised, but by the end of the night when they’d been drunk the pictures became increasingly ridiculous. The group of friends was now gathered in the park, at another of Harmony’s favourite spots, and the plan was to reshoot as many of the pictures as possible. A helium balloon took Harmony’s place in any of the pictures; at the end they’d all write messages for her on the labels and release them to the sky.

It had almost made Reese cry in front of the store yesterday, it was such a very Harmony idea. It was commemorative yet still joyful. She’d have loved it, even if there was some questionable environmental impact when it came to letting the balloons go. The silly poses were shaking off all the sadness of the service and people were looking a lot more relaxed – again, precisely what Harmony would have wanted.

“Trace, you’re up!” Came a yell from the ‘set.’

“Ready for my close up,” he said wryly to Reese before jogging on over to take his mark between an inflatable banana and his pal Mike.

His place was quickly taken by Tiffany, who sidled up to Justin looking secretive. She handed him an envelope; mutely he folded it up and tucked it in his jacket pocket.

“You sure this is okay?”

His eyes flicked over at her and he gave her a wry glare. “I’m the one who offered, so hush.”

Her only response was to reach up and give him a brief hug and kiss on the cheek before scurrying back to round up more of her troops. “You’re good people, Timberlake!” She called back.

“What was that?” Reese asked.

Justin looked around before leaning in and lowering his voice. A few people were still potentially in earshot. “Receipt for the dinner.”

Her lower lip dropped, mouth opening in surprise. “Really? I thought we were all…”

“So does Steve, so I’d appreciate it if you kept this strictly between the three of us. But he’s already got medical bills and funeral costs to worry about, and I thought it’d be easier if everybody could just come out tonight and not have to say no because of money. It’s not like this is a big deal for me but it is for other people. I just knew that if I offered he’d think he was leeching off me.”

“That… that’s really nice, Justin,” she whispered back.

If they hadn’t made a deal he might have responded with a crack about her finally admitting he wasn’t Satan. They had, however - besides, this temporary peace was too precious to squander for a quick point score. There was nobody that he’d admit it to, but although he hadn’t liked seeing Reese so upset he’d personally benefitted from it. Concentrating on hugging her and comforting her had taken his mind off of his own feelings. Harmony hadn’t been a close friend of his the way someone like Trace or Rachael was, she’d been that ‘friend of my girlfriend’ he’d seen a lot of, but she represented part of a life that he sorely missed. For him her death symbolised something else.

“It’s nothing, I only spent some money. You know how good I am at that,” he joked.

Reese rolled her eyes at him. “It’s not nothing - it’s really generous. You’re not the only stinkin’ rich type here but nobody else thought to do it. I’m giving you due credit so shut up and take it.”

It was a borderline breach of their agreement, but the jury came down in her favour and he decided to take it as a compliment. “Then thank you.”

“So…” She returned her voice to normal volume. “I haven’t seen those pictures in a while… what are we going to do if some of them are, ahh… no longer appropriate?” Awkwardly she shifted from foot to foot.

Justin shrugged. He didn’t see why she was twitchy about it. “If Tiff picked the shots I doubt anything that would make you uncomfortable got on the list. But if you’re not happy tell me and we’ll, I don’t know, do a more platonic version or something. No big.”

“Yeah, that makes sense I guess.”

She was about to say something else but was interrupted by the sound of her phone. Quickly digging it out, she had intended to decline the call but changed her mind on seeing Drake’s picture splashed across the screen.

“Hey honey.”  

Justin immediately found a daisy in the grass below with his eyes and focused all his concentration on it. It saved him from making any swipes about the grease monkey or wondering too much about why she’d never called him honey.

**

“Man I wish I could drink right now.”

“You and me both,” Justin replied as he blew the smoke out in a ring. It was showing off a little but why not?

“Harm always played designated driver so I’d forgot what it’s like to be sober amongst a whole crowd of drunk.”

Justin found Steve’s ability to talk so naturally about Harmony quite something. After Reese left and refused to take his calls he had gone through a stage of rounding on anybody who dared utter her name; he couldn’t take hearing it. He missed her too much and talking about her felt like rubbing sandpaper on an open cut. Yet here was Steve, recently bereaved, and he talked about her like it was any other day. That thought would remain unvoiced, however, since he wasn’t sure how far this sanguine approach would stretch. He didn’t want to somehow imply that Steve was wrong for not weeping and wailing.

“Heh. She was never one to need to drink for a good time. Me on the other hand could use some bourbon right about now.” He took a drag on the cigarette. He didn’t smoke a lot, not with a voice to protect, but every so often he felt the need.

As the only sober people at the dinner – everybody else was taking taxis or being picked up – they had both stayed outside together to avoid some of the madness. Initially it had been the whole gang of smokers, but when people moved back in Steve had used his leg as an excuse to stay put. Justin had simply stayed for the quiet. It was loud and raucous inside. That might have been what Harmony wanted but a little fresh air and space to think was in order.

“Me too, but doc said not on these meds. Still, some of those pills could probably get you high anyway,” Steve joked, picking up the knitting needle he’d taken to carrying around and wiggling it in under the plaster for a good scratch. That was what drove him mad, the itching.

Justin chuckled, looking into his drink. As he swirled it in his hand the ice collided against the glass. “So, I want to say how upbeat you’ve been today and how cool that is, but I’m kind of worried that I’ll pop the bubble by bringing it up.”

“Ha.” Steve smiled, but the sadness behind his eyes was shining through. “I’ll have my time to be a grumpy bastard who hates the world for being so fucking unfair, but today’s about her. She’d haunt my ass if I didn’t show the party spirit.”

“It just… I can’t even imagine, man.” Justin shook his head. “Are you sure there’s nothing I can do to help?”

Although Justin hadn’t been tight knit with Harmony he’d spent a lot more time with Steve. They were close enough to have this kind of conversation without it being the expected motions. Everybody asked if there was anything they could do, but that was simply because it was what everyone said. They were tighter than that; there was intent above pleasantries in the question. It was inevitable, the women spent so much time together that the boyfriends were all forced to like each other or suffer. Apart from anything else it was a convenience thing. When you wanted to hang out with the guys it was helpful to be on the same schedule – if one of their ladies was out they were all out, which left the men all free.

“Nah.” Steve shook his head. “I really appreciate you offering but I’m covered, anything I can’t do with my leg my sister’s picked up for me. Besides you’ve done enough, you got Reese here and that was the biggie. Tiff was really wound up tight about that - worried that we wouldn’t have all the girls and it’d be wrong.”

Justin shrugged. “Least I could do. Besides, we were coming anyway so not like it put me out to bring one more on the plane.”

“Really?” The tone was pointed and Steve’s eyebrows rose in disbelief. “You weren’t at all put out by having to bring your ex here?”

This time the laughter was dry. “Alright, alright. It wasn’t exactly pleasant, but we’ve behaved.”

“Do you know…” He punctuated each word with a wave of his index finger, wagging it at his companion. “When I first got with Harm, she pointed at you two and told me that it was either give her that or strike out?”

“Uhh…no, I did not know that.” Justin’s tone was quizzical. He took a quick gulp of his Coke before continuing. “Like how?”

“Well at first I thought she meant your bank balance and was telling me to get a better job…” They both snorted out loud at the same time. “But she only meant the way you two were around each other. Like Tiff said earlier, if she saw something she liked she wanted to emulate it.”

“And she wanted to emulate us? Why?”

“Because you two were so fucking adorable it was nauseating,” he replied. It could have sounded rude or critical, but there was a light amusement to it. “Not like PDA or anything, but… I don’t know. It was, like, proper couple shit. Always touching each other’s arms, watching each other, if she was talking then you were hanging on every word. I didn’t really get it until Harm and I got serious but it’s that thing where you’re always paying attention to each other and you’re in tune or whatever. That’s what I miss, you know? Don’t think I realised how many times a day I was kissing her forehead, or hugging her, or just sitting listening to her talk. Even if it was on the phone about her boring business shit or whatever, listening to the sound of her voice and wanting to know every little detail of her day. Feels like I got nothing to do with myself without her. I’m dreading tomorrow when I don’t have a bunch of arrangements to pass the day.”

Leaning back in his chair, Justin stubbed out his cigarette and looked up at the sky. Maybe the stars were out but you couldn’t see them through the smog.  Slowly he nodded. “Yeah. I know exactly what you mean. Not saying it’s the same, you know, but yeah. I get that.”

Steve pressed the tips of his fingers together, peering at them. “So, from the wisdom of your experience… how long’s it take that to go away? Gotta be honest, that’s what’s killing me right now.”

A morose feeling settled back over Justin. The photo session and party had successfully rid him of it but he felt it returning with force. And it hadn’t even taken any alcohol – normally he had to be drunk before he got this self-pitying, it was the come down from the initial high.

“I’ll tell you when I find out.”

“You telling me you’re still hankering after her?”

He shifted in his lounger, trying to reposition his broken leg. He stared at his famous friend with a curious gleam in his eye. Reese had been a bit of a no-go topic for some time, but since he knew Justin had been on dates he’d figured it must be over from his perspective.

“Ugh. ‘Course I am.” Justin rubbed his hand across his forehead, wincing and pursing his lips. He could feel the creases of his own frown beneath his fingertips. “I’ve loved her since we were five years old, I was nineteen or so when it stopped being as a friend… fuck knows how I’m supposed to switch that off now.”

“You tried, or you just been feeling sorry for yourself?” It was a fair question.

“I sat around for a while waiting for it to pass with time, but that only made me angry and act like a dick. So then I thought that maybe if I finally ripped the band aid off and went home seeing her might give me some closure, seeing that she’s moved on would help me let her go, but no. If anything it’s actually made me crazier. She’s marrying this no hoper and all coming home proved was that I still love her. Which I can’t do jack shit about.”

“You know what, man…” Steve leaned over the table to grab another cigarette. He couldn’t quite get the pack and Justin had to push it back within his reach. “You can and you should.”

“Uhh… you heard the part where she’s marrying some other guy in less than a month, right?”

“And maybe a week ago I’d have said that another guy’s girl was off limits and you should respect that, but now? Speaking as a guy who truly can’t do anything to get the love of his life back - to Hell with respecting the fucking limits.” The day had put Steve in a very philosophical mood, and somehow moved him to be blunter than usual. Maybe it was because time no longer seemed like an affordable luxury. “If there was any way in Heaven or Hell then there is literally nobody that I wouldn’t step on to get Harmony back. If you need Reese then life’s too short not to go and fucking get her.”

“Reese hates me. Like, actively hates me. Not that I blame her, but I had to negotiate just to call off the war for today. I don’t see her being receptive.”

“If she hates you that much it’s because she loves you that much. Trust me. At least if you try you won’t spend the rest of your life kicking yourself for not going for it.”

“I don’t know. I really can’t see her ever forgiving me.” His leg jittered, foot tapping against the ground.

“Like I said, you don’t know if you don’t get off your bony white ass and try. Harm always said your dumb ass should have been on the first plane out to Memphis to hunt down Reese and bring her back. Seriously man, take it from me. If you got even a shot at it then you should take it, because some of us don’t even have that small luxury.”

Justin sighed, hung his head for a moment and then raised his glass. “To Harmony. Still managing to shame me for being chicken shit even beyond the grave.”

Steve raised his. “If she could hear that, she’d call you a cheeky fucker before totally agreeing with me.”

The glasses met with a loud clink.

It took an hour of tossing and turning before Justin accepted that he was not getting to sleep.

He’d always been prone to insomnia, but had expected after such a long and heavy going day to be out for the count. He’d said goodnight to Reese, dashed upstairs, washed up and then dived straight into bed within the space of ten minutes, all in anticipation of it. It didn’t happen. Instead the red numbers of his alarm clock glared aggressively out into the darkness. The soft whirring of the air conditioner seemed obnoxious. Although he shut his eyes and nestled into his usual position sleep remained elusive. He’d tried throwing off the covers, he’d tried turning over. He’d tried every mental trick he could think of to clear his brain.

At two minutes past one in the morning he gave it up and put the light back on. With a grumpy scowl he sat back up, surveying his room as if it was to blame. Briefly he considered putting the TV on, but he’d heard somewhere that the light made you more awake. That wrote off any internet surfing too, and he wasn’t much of a reader. The same article also claimed that you should leave your bedroom so you didn’t associate it with lack of sleep; he was starting to see the wisdom in that. For some reason as he was looking at the soft grey furnishings and the blue accents Justin wasn’t calmed as he usually was. He was irritated. He disliked the plush carpet, he disliked the cream walls. He hated the silver picture frames and most especially that stupid clock.

Wondering if a hot drink would help, he decided the kitchen was the next port of call. His steps to the door were quiet and deliberate. Gingerly he turned the handle and started pulling the door open, trying to avoid any tell tale squeaks. As it turned out he needn’t have bothered, because as soon as it was open he could see that the door to the spare room was ajar and the light off. You couldn’t wake up somebody who wasn’t there. He knew she wasn’t because Reese never slept with a door open – not even the closet door or the one to their en suite bathroom. He’d always teased her about it.

“Reese?” he called out.

On getting no reply, he jogged downstairs. It was still in darkness. Had she maybe fallen asleep down here? No, he reasoned – if she’d nodded off a light would still be on.

“Reese?”

It was of course possible that she was ignoring him, but the other place he could try was the back yard. It wasn’t a good idea to go yelling for her out there however in case the neighbours heard. Instead he grabbed a flashlight from the kitchen drawer and headed outside.

As it turned out he didn’t need the flashlight, because he could see a light on in the summer house. It was a little hexagonal hut of bleached white wood, lined inside with benches. During the warmer months they often put a fold out table in there to use it for barbecues, but most of the time it was covered in cushions and throws for Reese to use it as a reading nook. Sometimes on nice nights they had lit some candles in there and used it for drinks, whether on their alone time or when they had friends over. It was nice to stretch out on the cushion covered floor and talk through the night. Since she’d been gone he hadn’t opened it much.

Justin half expected her to have fallen asleep in there, but as he approached he could see her sitting up with her back against the bench.

“Hey,” he said as he poked his head around the door.

If she was startled by his arrival she didn’t show it. “Oh, hi. Guess you couldn’t sleep either?”

“No. Saw you’d left your room open and wanted to check you were okay. Are you okay?”

“Just been a rough day, my brain won’t quit.”

“What’s up?”

Reese’s head turned sideways, her eyes downcast away from him.

“You know, by my reckoning we still got a good nine and a half hours left on that ‘pretend we’re still friends’ deal. If you wanna tell me about it I’ll listen.”

When she didn’t say anything he stepped inside and crossed over to her. He eased his body down, half expecting her to tell him to stop, but she didn’t object as he sat beside her. He still made sure to keep a respectable few inches between them. She was like a skittish animal when it came to him, he didn’t want to push his luck.

Reese tipped her head back against the wood, crossing her feet at the ankles. They were stretched out in front of her as she sat on her favourite cushion, plush navy velvet. She’d forgotten about this cushion. She’d nearly forgotten about this hut, even though it was one of her favourite places to chill out. On the frequent occasions that Justin was on tour and her job didn’t allow her to follow him full time, she’d often spent a night out here with a book and a glass of wine. It rivalled a good long soak in the tub for its healing properties.

This evening however she was remembering other moments in the hut, ones which weren’t helped by the appearance of the other participant. Some were chilled, some were romantic, and some were less wholesome. Trying to reconcile that guy and the one who betrayed her was a real mind twister. Today was forcing her to rethink it, however, because for the first time in a long while she’d seen him live and in person. That guy was still in there. The man who’d listen to her troubles and help pay for a friend’s funeral didn’t much resemble the one who had been antagonising her… but he did still exist.

“Honestly, I’m fine. Just need to be quiet, that’s all.”

Justin’s finger traced over the floral pattern on one of the pillows. “You’re obviously not fine. You can still talk to me, you know.”

“Really? Does the deal really extend to spilling our guts when in nine and a half hours it’s going to be back to waiting for the next shot? Not sure I want to give you the ammo.”

It wasn’t even snippy. That was probably why it shamed him so much more than any other occasion when she’d got irritated with his behaviour. It was sad and matter of fact.

“You know, Reese…” He bowed his head and scratched at the nape of his neck. “I meant it when I said I want us to get along better. I was hurt and angry and lashing out, and I’m sorry that I was such a dick to you. But do we really have to go back to being at each other’s throats like that? Can’t we move on?”

“See, this is what I hate.” She let out a hiss of exasperated air. “You make it sound like this is my fault, like I’m the one who chose to make it this way.”

His eyes widened in horror. Damn it – he probably should have realised she’d take it badly. These days she interpreted his every move badly. If rose tinted glasses made you look at somebody too kindly, she was wearing blacked out goggles.

“God no, that’s not what I meant.”

“I mean, what is that?” Now she’d started the words kept coming unbidden, even though she’d wanted to avoid a dialogue not start one. “You cheat on me, you break my heart, and yet you’re the one who gets to be hurt and angry and lash out? In what kind of world are you entitled to be the one in that position or to get mad?”

“Well…” Oh this was dangerous territory. He hadn’t come out here to get into this with her, especially since it wasn’t going to be conducive to finding restful sleep. “I don’t think it’s anything to do with who has the right. You had it but you never took the opportunity though, did you?”

“What?” When her face turned to him her eyes were blazing icily.

“Look, Reese, I really don’t want to upset you, but the fact is you had every opportunity to get mad and to yell and to hit me and call me whatever name it is you think I deserved. But you didn’t. You didn’t want to see me, hear me, talk to me - not even to tear me a new one. Honestly, I kind of wish you had because I feel like maybe we could have got past it all a lot earlier.”

“What, like you think it would have all been okay and gone back to normal if I’d called you some names? Thrown some crockery?”

“I doubt it.” Justin snorted. “But… I don’t know. Maybe you could have got that out of your system and we could have talked. I don’t know what would have happened, but maybe we could have fixed it or closed the door on it or whatever. Instead, you tried first to act like I didn’t exist and then to make me into some frickin’ fairy tale villain. And I got mad, and angry, and eventually I started running my mouth because at least THAT got some kind of reaction out of you.”

“Oh, so it’s my fault you chose to be a douche?”

“NO!” He growled out, his fingers flexing in the air as he gesticulated. It was as if they were squeezing the neck of some imaginary foe. “That is not what I’m saying; I am not blaming you for anything I did. I’m a grown ass man and I made my choices. I’m just trying to explain to you what was going through my head - it wasn’t just coming from me being some evil bastard who enjoyed seeing you hurt. But I know I screwed up, and you had every right to be mad.”

Reese remained silent at this point. She stared crossly out at the door and refused to make eye contact. Her arms were folded across her chest, defensive and defiant, but he took the silence as a sign that at least something was getting through.

“But yeah, I was hurt and angry that you never heard me out or gave me a chance to explain. I was pissed that you could cut me out of your world like I never existed. You and Trace… you’ve been there all my life. It’s like he’s my left arm and you’re my right, but you just up and turned your back like it was nothing. And no offence to T,” he tried to brighten up his voice, nudging her softly with an elbow, “but I ain’t never been left handed.”

He was trying to lighten up the tone, though if he was honest with himself that last part was anything but a joke. Trace was his boy, but where he was the partner in crime she was the anchoring rock. She was the point he went back to when he wasn’t sure of himself. If ever he was on the outs with Trace it was like being on a limb without someone to yank him back if he fell. In contrast, being on the outs with Reese made him feel adrift without a compass.

“Why shouldn’t I?” She asked, bitter. “Why shouldn’t I leave? Why should I give you a chance to weasel out of it? You were my best friend all my life too, but that didn’t seem to mean so much to you when you were screwing somebody else.”

Justin sighed, hating the way her lips had thinned and her hands were folded so tightly away. “I didn’t actually, but again you never gave me a chance to explain that.”

“I caught you red handed.”

“Yep, but it hadn’t gone that far. Wasn’t going to, either, but I’m not going to sit here and force the story down your throat if you still don’t want to hear it. My point is, Reese…” He inhaled deeply, his shoulders hunching over. “I’ve been acting out, but in my own way… moronic, ass backwards way… it’s because I miss you and I’m mad at the situation.”

For the first time the hazel eyes that flicked sideways at him didn’t bear the same hard glint. At least that was encouraging.

“I’m aware of how utterly stupid that is, but I’ve found it hard to exercise any kind of emotional control around you in the last year. I miss you, I’m mad at myself for screwing things up, and in this fucked up way I was so desperate to get some kind of connection to you back that I would do whatever it was to provoke a reaction, because at least it meant you were sayin’ something to me. And what I’m saying to you now is that I’d like to quit that, and get back to a place where you’re not afraid I’m going to be mean to you every time I open my mouth.”

Unfolding her arms, Reese clasped her hands together in her lap instead. Intently watching them, as if the shifting of her thumbs would give her any assistance, she sat there mute for a few moments. This was not the first intense conversation she’d had with Justin in this hut. It was by far her least favourite. Her eyes travelled forward, and dimly in the back of her head she noted that they were both wearing identical grey sweatpants. His foot was twitching.

“You know what I was out here thinking about?”

“No. Guess we kind of got distracted from that conversation.” The sarcasm slipped out before he could stop it. His lungs felt oddly winded, as if he’d been running and not sitting around talking.

“I was thinking about today, and being back here, and all these memories I have of this life that I’m now completely removed from. There was you, acting like the human being I used to know and not the asshole who’s been taunting me for the last few months. And suddenly I’m wondering where the hell I am and how I got here, and whether I’m doing the right thing, and all I can think is that if it weren’t for you I wouldn’t have this problem. I was happy. I loved my life. Then you messed it up, and now you’re telling me how hurt and mad you are about it like I should sympathise.”

There was some horrid little part of Justin hoping that meant she was reconsidering her wedding. Wisely he didn’t give it voice.

“I don’t mean that you should sympathise…” The words came out slow. He was trying to be careful and deliberate in his next comments. “One of the reasons you’ve always been good for me Reese is that you’ve always understood me and where I was coming from even when you thought I was going wrong. Or doing wrong. I guess I just had this hope that if you’d ever let me talk it through with you then at least you wouldn’t hate me. Because whatever else, you know me better than anybody. Which is why the whole thing where you started acting like I was devil spawn really got to me. Because if you could think that after knowing me that close for so long…”

“What else am I supposed to think about a guy I loved that long who could do that to me so easy?”

“Maybe… you could think that I’m the same guy. Guy who just messed up,” he suggested.

Reese pushed a hand back through her hair and shifted, crossing her legs under herself. He was doing it again. He was making far too much sense and he was wheedling his way into making her doubt her feelings.

“I can’t think of you as the same person, Justin.” A defeated sigh left her lips. “Because the one I loved could be an ass, and he could be a screw up, but not like that. Not against me like that.”

“Can I ask you a question?”

He abruptly changed the subject. This conversation might have been excruciating but it was long overdue and he had no idea how much more he’d get out of her before she inevitably flounced off in outrage. He might as well just go for it. There was far too much he’d wanted to say to her for a very long time. Who knew when she would feel inclined to listen to it again?

Reese bristled - as if this tête-à-tête hadn’t already disturbed her thinking space enough on an already trying day. What was the game now? Even so, thus far there hadn’t been any yelling. He hadn’t been rude or mean, despite it being a difficult conversation. If they could do that like adults then who was to say that his next comment would be bad?

Scrunching up her face, she shrugged. “Why the hell not. Can’t make this any worse.”

“We were engaged all that time, and you never wanted to make any moves towards organising the wedding. You meet this guy, and suddenly you’re sprinting down the aisle like there’s somebody chasing you. Why? I’m not criticising, or anything,” he hastened to add, “I just don’t get it. Why’d you want to marry a guy you just met when you didn’t want to marry the guy you’d been with for years?”

“W-what?” She was so flabbergasted she forgot to be mad. Not only had the mention of Drake caught her off guard, she couldn’t believe he was looking at it like that. Had that been fuelling his behaviour too? Had he been jealous? “I didn’t want to marry you? How can you say that?”

“You tell me you loved your life and you hate me for wrecking it… but in two seconds flat you completely rewrote your entire life. Not just the parts that involved me. Your goals, your job, the way you dress, the way you act, everything! That’s how I can say that. Because you talk about me not being the same, but you really act like a totally different person.” Justin became animated. His palms were held out in the air while his entire body shifted back and forth, as if between the two.

“How could you walk away just like that,” he snapped his fingers, “if you loved it all so much? And you can’t tell me that’s all my fault, because breaking up with me doesn’t mean any of those things have to follow. It’s just hard for me to reconcile what you’re saying with what’s happened.”

He was hitting all kinds of nerves, especially after the last two days, but she couldn’t formulate a good response. Instead all that came out was a squeak. “But that’s absurd. Why do you think I said yes if I didn’t want to marry you?”

“I don’t know.” He stared up at the ceiling and bitterness crept into his voice. “All I know is that I was already worried you were getting cold feet before that whole thing, and everything you’ve done since you left me just seems to back that up. Which also contributed to the hurt and angry thing.”

“Oh – my – GOD.” She spat out. “That whole wedding date thing? You’ve had a stick up your ass this whole time because we didn’t get around to setting a date before you cheated on me?”

“Were we ever going to set one? Honestly? Because I can’t help looking at your behaviour then versus your behaviour now, when a wedding can be done in no time flat, and wondering if the problem was that you just didn’t want to marry me. And I’m here to tell you peanut that there is nothing in my life that has ever burned me like that thought does.”

With that one short speech she’d gone from hopping mad to her eyes brimming with tears. Even the peanut slip passed her by. “I loved you more than anything, how dare you.”

Something about the comment set him off. It was the spark that lit the fuse, and now he no longer cared about treading softly or forcing things down her throat. He no longer cared what she did or didn’t want to hear. This thing had been chewing away at his insides for too long and it was coming out whether that was smart or not. His body needed to purge it.

“How dare I? You want to know the truth, Reese? The God awful truth? The reason you found me like that was because I’d had a shitty day, I was hammered, and then I got yet another text message from you saying to forget about August because you’d have some dumb fucking project due, like you couldn’t have handed it off. That was the moment I realised that you were never going to set the damn date, and when some girl came hitting on me I was thinking with my drunk, bruised ego.”

Yet again he continued on in her silence, not caring how far he pushed her.

“And you know the dumb thing? The really ridiculous thing?” His fist pounded itself into the nearest pillow of its own accord. “It didn’t even help! It didn’t make me feel any better, because what I wanted was you. I didn’t want some faceless girl to want me; I wanted you to want to marry me. I took her upstairs and within about 60 seconds of her kissing me I knew it was pointless and I had to kick her out. That was when you walked through the door. I lost you, I screwed up everything, because of five fucking minutes of drunk self-pity.”

Tears were streaming down Reese’s face at this point, but she was incapable of wiping them away or even registering them as they slid onto her neck and shirt. Her eyes were pointed unseeingly at a spot on the window, her face pale. It was odd to think of Katy Marron, superstar, as being ‘some faceless girl’ to him. That was somewhat ironic when she’d spent so much time tormenting herself with comparisons and assuming that was what had tempted Justin away. She’d thought it must be because Katy was prettier, she was famous in her own right, she had more money.

She even remembered the text message. She’d been at the airport, waiting for her bag, and she’d been checking her work e-mails. To think – if she’d waited to mention it in person instead of texting him while she was thinking about it, the entire story might have been different.

This appeared to be the point at which he’d broken her, because he would have expected her to reply by now. The eruption of fury should have been volcanic, but she didn’t seem to have any fight left for the conversation. As he came down from the adrenalin of finally venting everything he’d been holding in for the past twelve months, he started to feel once more ashamed. Reese was oddly pretty when she cried like that. She looked like a fine china doll with her hands clasped neatly in her lap. Maybe it was the lack of expression on her face. This wasn’t like the church when she’d been hunched over and her features twisted with grief. Now she was inhumanly still.

“I…” Justin was much quieter now, head ducked away from her in embarrassment. “I guess that’s just what I need you to know. I made my screw ups and I got nobody to blame but me, but I want you to understand I didn’t do it because I didn’t care about you. I… I care, but I’ve kept making the wrong choices about how to handle it. Maybe if I’d been better at explaining it earlier you wouldn’t have felt the need to leave town or hate me. And I’m sorry. There’s nothing I want more than to undo it, but I can’t. I’m sorry.”

There was still nothing.

Justin had probably completely alienated her and ensured that his attempt at brokering a more permanent civility failed. There now seemed little else to say and few other ways he could possibly make this worse for himself. Without saying anything else he got up and left the hut. The only positive outcome was that he was now bone tired. At least sleep would come of it if nothing else.

“God, finally!” Trace said as the wheels hit the tarmac.

Justin started shifting in his seat, looking around him for his things. He couldn’t say he’d be sorry to get off the plane either. “Shit, you seen my phone?”

“In your seat pocket.”

He wasn’t going to ask how Reese knew that when she’d barely looked anywhere except the window for the entire flight. When she hadn’t been asleep she’d been staring out at the sky. “Found it, thanks.”

All three of them had different reasons for being glad to be home. Trace drank a lot more than Reese the previous evening, so he was feeling rough; pressurised cabins were not brilliant places to be with a hangover. Reese was more than ready to end the protracted brain breaker of a trip. Facing your demons was never fun, particularly not when parcelled up with a funeral of all things. Justin felt sheepish and guilty about his conversation with her in the hut last night. She didn’t look like she’d had much sleep. She’d retreated back into her shell again and he was certain he’d blown it. Yet again his mouth had run away with him.

At least this time his mouth had spewed out some honesty instead of vitriol. He supposed that was still progress.

It was a nice sunny day, however, and at least there were no paparazzi this time. There had been more of them waiting when they departed and he was getting a little worried about that. They’d shown up at the funeral, they’d shown up at the airport. They seemed very interested in the fact that his former fiancée had been travelling with him. She was of course wearing her engagement ring, which nobody in their right mind could think he’d bought after comparing it to the previous rock, but that never stopped the gossip rags from talking. He was suspicious that a story was brewing. Coming home for a while had (among other things) been an attempt to get away from the gossip hounds.

Briefly he’d considered staying in Los Angeles, letting Trace and Reese get the plane back and allowing them to just get on with the upcoming wedding. There was no particular need for him to be here and after the previous evening he feared the temporary truce was about to be lifted. He had done what he set out to do. He had proved he could come back home and at least somewhat deal with seeing her. There had even been some improvement, difficult as it was to view it that way when he’d taken such a step back last night. They had talked without nastiness and been civil. The last discussion might have been torturous but it was conducted in adult manner. Even if the ceasefire didn’t last that was still more than had been achieved in a year. So did he need to go back to Tennessee when he could have his stuff and his dogs brought out to him?

His mother had called exactly at the right moment (or the wrong one depending on your point of view), right when he was about to make the decision. It reminded him that the other reason he’d gone home was he owed some people some time.  

“So, I’ve been thinking,” Reese said as the plane came to a stop.

“Really? We’d never have guessed. Oww!”

Justin had elbowed Trace sharply in the ribs. Clearly she was preoccupied with something but being sarcastic about it wasn’t helpful. “Ignore him.”

“Oh y’all know I always do.” She glared at Trace. “Anyway, I, umm… I’ve… I officially decided we’re okay.” The words came out in such a rush they blended into each other. She finally met Justin’s blue eyes.

“Say what now? Hey, will you quit that?” Trace got elbowed again almost before he’d finished the sentence, and it connected in the same already smarting spot. He didn’t see why that deserved more violence; he was entitled to be shocked.

“Shut up, ass!” Justin said. He did not want this speech interrupted for anything less than the plane bursting into flames. The door was being opened behind them and people were saying things over the intercom but he was not paying a blind bit of attention.

“It was a hell of a lot easier when we were being nice to each other yesterday and…” She trailed off. Making an announcement of it like was stilted and inelegant, but there wasn’t a good way to ease in. Directness was the only option. “I don’t know. I thought about some things and… okay. I’m not sayin’ we’re best buddies again but if you can act like a human being and stop with all that asshole stuff you were doing, then we’re okay.”

If there was one lesson he’d learned last night it was not to push her so damn hard. As much as he wanted to get some rationale for this – it was so unexpected – he was not going to blow it any more than he already had. This might be the closest to forgiveness he got from her.

“Deal.”

“Well halle-fuckin’-lujah. Hey!” Trace protested. “God damn it will you people stop with the violence?”

This time it was Reese; she’d slapped him upside his head. Both she and Justin were giving him the stink eye.

“It’s about damn time, I’m allowed to swear. Does this mean I can actually invite you both to the same shit now without one of you threatening not to show?”

“Shut up.” They replied in tandem.

Reese was about to make a pithy remark when something else caught her eye on the tarmac. Involuntarily she grabbed Trace’s arm, her fingers digging in a touch too tight.

“Hey, that friggin’ hurts too! What did I ever do to you people?”

She was not listening. Instead she’d rushed to the plane door, forgetting even her purse. The metal steps clanged loudly in protest as she jogged down them. Once she hit the ground she upped speed and sprinted at full pelt towards the figure waiting for her. When she reached him she practically attacked him.

“Oh my God!” She squealed as she threw her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly, a bright grin spreading across her face for the first time in several days. “I can’t believe it!”

“Hey darlin’.” He squeezed tightly, lifting her off her feet momentarily. He even smelled just right, the woody base of his cologne the same as always. Lips met the side of her head and his hand rubbed her back. “So how’s my best girl?”

“I thought you were coming in tomorrow!” She exclaimed. “I was gonna come pick you up!”

“Managed to get an earlier flight.” Oliver shrugged. He gave her another kiss on the cheek before stepping back to take a look at her, picking up her hands in his. “I heard about your friend, sweetheart, I’m sorry. Was the trip okay?”

Reese took a look behind her, where Justin and Trace were emerging from the airplane. She then looked back at Oliver and shrugged her shoulders comically, pulling a face. “Let’s just say this was a well timed surprise.”

“Yeah, about that… do I owe him some pain?” He looked darkly over at the approaching figures.

“We called truce, so be nice.”

Reese slipped an arm around his waist and as Oliver looped his around her shoulders in return she nestled under it. Oliver was the second eldest of her brothers and given their similarity in age, they’d always done a lot together. Since Dean considered himself too old and too cool to hang out with them (though always ready to kick in a few heads for them) the two of them had been co-conspirators, simultaneously entertaining and driving each other crazy. He’d joined the Navy for a four year tour and was currently three years in; he’d had to use all his leave to make it for the wedding. She hadn’t seen him in an age – since before the end of her previous engagement, hence his question - so to have him waiting for her at the airport was probably the best surprise she could have asked for. For a second she’d thought he was Drake, with his regulation short hair they looked similar from a distance. By the time he’d let it grow out for the next couple of weeks it would be more blonde than Drake’s.

“Hey guys, look who finally got his ass home!”

“Ollie!” Trace stuck out his hand and shook Oliver’s. “Long time no see, how you been?”

“Good, good. How’s things?” Oliver stuck out his hand to Justin and shook it too, but the smile was a little forced. Being so far away he was out of the loop on a lot of things, but he gathered something weird had happened. Now his sister was suddenly marrying some guy she just met. He didn’t know what was going on but he had an inkling it was Timberlake’s fault.

“Well, you know. Bit of a tough trip but we drank our way through it together.”

Wordlessly Justin handed Reese the purse he’d picked up for her. He’d immediately read the vibe and decided it was best to let Trace do the talking and let Oliver get it out of his system. The other brothers had already had the time to see him and remember they were friendly, get over any lingering over-protectiveness. Oliver hadn’t.

“Oh, really, y’all hung over?” Oliver said, pinching Reese’s arm. “Because Dean’s fixin’ for one of our legendary nights out, show me how much y’all missed me.”

“Ohhhhh shit,” Trace said. “Just tell me where you’ll be so I can stay away.”

The four eldest occasionally got the idea for a sibling night out into their heads; Clark was merely biding his time until legal drinking age when he could join them. In a more anonymous city he might have got away with joining them but their town was too small for that. Invariably these sibling nights out ended in bar crawls and invariably they were messy.

They’d always looked like fun but the policy was strictly no outsiders, so friends and other halves were not invited. Justin didn’t know exactly what went on, he’d only witnessed the aftermath when Reese eventually called to have him drive her home. More than once he had needed to carry her in the door. Occasionally she’d been so drunk she’d accidentally called Trace or Nadine instead of him, which was how Trace knew to steer well clear. It had taken a month before he let Reese live down the things she’d said to him thinking he was her boyfriend.

“I’m not hung over, munchkin over there’s hung over,” Reese informed him. “For one with my favourite brothers I’ll suck it up.”

Justin raised his eyebrows. He wasn’t sure what time she got to bed the previous night, but it must have been after him and it had been half past two when he finally made it. That was after an early start, and there’d been another one today. Add in a long plane ride yet she still wanted to do another heavy night immediately after? He was not going to jeopardise her newly outstretched olive branch by suggesting it was a bad idea though.

“Well Mom’s itching to get us both back so I’d best get her home. Thanks for taking care of her, guys.”

This time Oliver did look at Justin and give him the nod.

“Any time. You just make sure she gets home in one piece tonight, alright? I know what y’all are like on those Bennington benders,” Justin joked.

“When have I ever not watched out for my little sister?”

**

“Jesus Christ, Ollie, how much more you planning to give her?”

“Oh relax, Sammy!” Oliver hooked his elbow around the back of his younger brother’s neck, leaning on his pool cue. “Girl had a rough few days, she needed it. Don’t she look happier?”

“Yeah, don’t I look happier?”

“You look like you gon’ be real happy ‘til you sober up,” Sam muttered, pushing his over-long hair back behind his ears. Oliver kept handing his own shots off to her, so she was drinking more than any of the boys.

“Saaaaam!” Reese waved an arm, beckoning him to her.

“Yeah?” He sighed, trudging around the table to her side.

“Quit worryin’ and come explain to your big sister how the hell to do that shot again.”

“Which one, with the stick or the shooter?”

“Ahhhhh you’re so funny,” she giggled, ruffling her hand through his hair and smacking her lips against his cheek. Sam quickly started smoothing it back down. She knew he hated it when she did that. He was nearly a foot taller than her but since he was younger she still treated him like the baby of the family -sometimes more than Clark, who she was careful not to infantilise.

“I hate being the responsible one,” he said before patiently showing her the angle and where to aim again.

“Middle child issues,” she whispered in his ear before pinching his arm.

Dean was leaning against the bar, waiting for the next round of drinks. His head was turned to the side to watch his younger siblings and a smile pricked at the corners of his mouth. Of course they went out together all the time in various combinations, but it was different when it was all four. With Reese in LA for so long and then Ollie away serving, it was increasingly rare to get them all in the same room and when they were they were usually under parental supervision. Without the wardens they could get louder, rowdier and ruder – which they did. They were a true little gang and they bullied each other with nothing but affection. He missed that when they weren’t around.

The only one who got off lightly was Clark, but that was purely because he was so much younger. Between the four of them they felt like they were picking on people their own size; going in too hard on offspring number five felt wrong. There was still plenty of teasing but they didn’t get quite so below the belt.

“You should just be grateful we got her out at all,” Oliver declared to Sam. “I thought the ball and chain was going to pitch a fit when she said we were going out.”

“Oh come on!” Reese objected, her volume a little too loud. “He was not!”

“Please, he looked pissed.”

“He did not. You’re just projecting because you irrationally decided you didn’t like him before you met him. Which, by the way, you can go screw yourself with that.” Reese gave him a mock military salute with her middle finger.

Drake had in fact been a little put out, but only in private. They hadn’t had any alone time at all and he’d wanted a chance to talk about how she was doing, which Oliver would be hard pressed to fault him for. In front of her family he’d been nothing but supportive. Even in private he’d merely sighed a little, certainly hadn’t put up any protest. He’d said he totally understood the need for family time and dinner could wait until tomorrow. That was the kind of guy he was – he wasn’t going to pretend everything was peachy if it wasn’t, but he wasn’t unreasonable or possessive. She appreciated that about him. She always felt like she knew where she stood, but that the reins were still hers.

If she needed any proof, it was that he had been completely charming and amiable when he’d heard Dean’s suggestion. Drake had personally dropped her at the bar, happily kissed her good night, then told her that she had a free pass to go wild. The final touch was telling her to wake him up at whatever time if she needed a ride back. That, to her mind, was love.

“Hey, hey!” Oliver put his hands up in mock surrender, laughing. “Give a guy a couple of minutes to adjust.”

“Whatever. You’re under orders to be nice and don’t think I won’t hurt you if you’re not. I don’t give a shit if you’re the wandering son returned or whatever, I will beat you.”

“I’d take her seriously,” Sam said with a smirk as he chalked his cue. “She punches harder than you.”

“Hey - I have military training, assholes.”

“But I taught her how to punch - well, re-taught her after you failed. Trust me, she can take you.”

Dean observed this whole exchange from the bar. They were working on alcohol volume, thinking they were speaking normally but in reality doing so several notches louder than usual. With his arms folded across his chest, he chuckled to himself.

He stopped chuckling when he caught sight of an unfamiliar face at one of the tables, intently watching his siblings – one in particular. Suspiciously Dean peered over, taking stock. He was probably in his mid-thirties, dark hair and a scraggy beard. He was in a hooded sweatshirt and jeans; he didn’t have a beer and looked uninterested in procuring one. He couldn’t have been in the bar too long. They hadn’t been in there long themselves (it was their second stop of the night) and since it was a Wednesday the place had been quiet except for a few regulars. He’d have noticed. When he followed the guy’s line of sight, it was hitting Reese.

He didn’t like it.

Contrary to Reese’s whining over the years, Dean did not object to or put the shakedown on any guy who dared look at her. His baby sister was pretty and of course she was occasionally going to attract male attention. When she was running around in shorts and a tank top as she was now that was not an unlikely prospect. Once she’d hooked up with the famous guy, eyes fell on her for other reasons as well. If he had concerned himself with everybody looking he’d have had an aneurysm long ago.

Even so, he had his instincts. They lived in a small and unremarkable town so any stranger was always a cause for a raised eyebrow, but this guy simply seemed off to him. Arranging his face into a more neutral visage, Dean slipped away from the bar and approached the table.

“Excuse me,” he said with a friendly smile. “You got a light?”

“Sorry, don’t smoke.”

“Just my luck,” he kept it light and good-natured. “So you must be new in town, don’t remember seeing you before.”

“Oh yeah, just here for work. Not staying long. You live here?”

“Born and raised,” he replied. “I’m Dean.” It felt dirty, but he offered his hand.

“Joe,” the guy said as he grasped it with a perfunctory shake. “Wow, growing up in a small place like this you must know everyone, then?”

Alarm bells were going off in Dean’s head, and he couldn’t put his finger on why. Something about that question was raising his hackles.

“Is that your sneaky way of asking if I know about her?” He nodded his head towards Reese. “Sorry bud but you’re out of luck, she’s taken.”

“Oh, is she?”

The bells pealed all the louder. What was it about his reaction that was bugging him? It didn’t seem disappointed, it seemed… interested. Almost a little excited. Why was the guy so fascinated by some strange girl in a bar if it wasn’t because he wanted to make a move?

Then it hit him. It had been so long since anybody had come looking he’d almost forgotten the signs.

“Yep. Though even if she wasn’t, I wouldn’t recommend it.” To anyone who knew, his congenial chuckle would have been frightening in how sincere it sounded. “Brothers, overprotective, you know how it is. Three of ‘em with her too.”

“Oh really?” Dean had kept his tone jocular, so ‘Joe’ (if that was his real name) thought he was kidding and responded in kind. “I only see two.”

“Look again.”

The guy gave a yelp as without warning Dean grabbed a handful of his shirt and was right in his face. There was a loud scrape as the table skidded sideways, and it attracted the attention of everyone in the bar. On seeing it Sam immediately threw his arm out as if to protect Reese, even though they were several feet away. Oliver was already marching across the room.

“Three incredibly overprotective brothers, count ‘em. And let me tell you the oldest is kind of a psycho, really doesn’t like press scum stalking his little sister around town. You best get your ass out of here before I decide to do it for you.”

A cooler head than Dean’s would have confirmed his suspicions before starting anything, but ‘Joe’ gave himself away. It was plain from his expression that he’d got it right. “I’m not doing anything; I’m sitting here about to get a drink! I have as much right to be here as you!”

“Larry!” Dean yelled out for the bar’s owner, who had been getting their drinks. He’d been distracted from that task by the unfolding drama.

“Come on now son, y’all know I don’t hold with that in my bar. Take it outside.”

“Larry, you want to explain to this paparazzi scum right here what the local policy is on press comin’ into our town following our citizens around?”

Oliver reached Dean and had been about to pull him off of the guy, but with that piece of news his visage turned to a threatening scowl. The only thing stopping him from joining his elder brother was the wish to avoid any cops being called (his commanding officer didn’t take kindly to that sort of thing). Reese was quietly listening to all of this from her spot behind Sam. His guarding of her was totally unnecessary, she could take care of herself, but his lanky frame served as a handy way to block her from view. If the gossip hound had a camera he wasn’t going to get any pictures of her with it.

“Ahh. Well you see, sir,” Larry drawled, “we reserve the right not to serve press. I’m gon’ have to politely ask you to leave my premises.”

The town was well used to all manner of people visiting purely because Justin Timberlake hailed from it. Fans and paparazzi frequently swooped down on the place. The population was extremely protective of their golden boy. Nobody gave quotes to the press, and if they got the idea that somebody was hunting around for a story they turned them away. If Justin was offering his patronage to any of the local establishments they did not allow anybody who appeared to be press in.

Occasionally they had to extend this to friends and family too, when reporters and photographers thought following one of them around would yield a quote or story. As his girlfriend and now his ex Reese had long been a target for that. That was what had tipped Dean off. It was the way they all started prying – by trying to casually steer the conversation around as if it was merely small talk. It had been a while since she’d been of interest so it had taken a minute to place it.

Dean released the guy’s shirt, patting the collar back down as if being helpful. “Have a nice trip home. Oh, and I hope your agency offers good medical because if I catch you near my sister again your camera’s getting shoved somewhere you won’t enjoy.”

“Dean,” Oliver said, leading him away.

Larry saw the guy out – they could hear a lot of swearing from outside – and the brothers crossed back over to the pool table. Reese grabbed at Dean to hug him tightly around the middle. Knowing it was a ‘thank you,’ he kissed the top of her head and gruffly pushed her away as if to dismiss it. Nobody was messing with his family on his watch.

“What was that about?” Sam asked.

“They were following us around in LA too. At the funeral, the airport…” Reese said. A disgusted expression passed over her brothers’ faces at the mention of the funeral. “If they’re following me around here too that means they’re working on somethin’. This can’t be a coincidence.”

“I guess we’ll find out soon enough,” Ollie predicted grimly.

They stood motionless for a moment before Reese pulled a face.

“Well that totally killed the buzz.”

“Hey, none of that quitter talk girly girl. We are Benningtons and this is our night - we do not accept defeat.”

Oliver clapped one hand over his heart and pumped his other fist in the air in a circle, pretending to be moved by Dean’s attempt at a stirring speech. Sam was rolling his eyes and shaking his head.

“The buzz is in our blood – and I’ll be damned if we let that asshole kill it. Another round of shots and we’ll make the next game interesting?” Dean suggested.

By ‘interesting’ he meant that they were going to start gambling various dares, chores, and possibly even some money. The other boys nodded their heads in assent, but Reese was already yanking out her phone to write some text messages. One version went out to Nadine and Drake as a complaint, the other went out to Justin and Trace as a warning.

Lord only knew what the next few days would bring.

“Hey hey hey!” Nadine called as she let herself in. “You in here Reese?”

“On the couch!” She replied weakly.

She had been stretched out on said couch all morning with an ice pack and a large pitcher of water. It was the only thing she could stomach. Thankfully she wasn’t nauseous, but she had a pounding headache and the idea of food was off putting. It wasn’t the greatest thing, calling in sick after already being out for several days, but the office seemed indifferent so she would get away with it. Why every dare Dean and Ollie came up with involved shooting whiskey she had no idea, but it was a good job that Sam was sensible enough to keep the bar snacks coming. It had mopped up some of the alcohol.

For a while she’d had Drake there to rub her back and generally offer sympathy, even if he did keep pointing out it was self-inflicted, but then he’d had to go to work. The sympathy had been counter balanced with a lot of laughing at her. She didn’t remember coming back home, but apparently after Clark had dropped her off she’d woken Drake up. (How her baby brother who’d barely been licensed for five minutes had wound up being the one they called to pick them up was beyond her sober self’s comprehension). According to her fiancé she had crawled on top of him, breath like a brewery, and done some kind of strange wriggling that was supposed to be a lap dance. The assessment of her skills had been unflattering to say the least, but suffice to say he hadn’t found it sexy. He’d never seen Reese that intoxicated and of course thought it was hilarious. He thought it was even funnier that he’d had to almost pin her to the bed to stop her amorous attentions.

When she’d commented that it was unlike him to turn her down if she was offering it on a plate, his response was that it ‘would’ve been like doing it with a stoned octopus.’

“Well you look brighter than I thought you would.”

Nadine bounded in and flopped onto the seat next to her, dropping her bags without ceremony on the floor. She kicked off her shoes and curled her feet up under her, making herself comfortable. Her red hair was hidden under a straw hat and with her t-shirt and cropped pants she was doing a fair impression of a farm girl.

“Eh, I’m living,” Reese gave a loopy smile, shrugging her shoulders up to her ears. “How’re you sweetie?”

“Good, good. So I take it you had a good time with the fam, apart from the stalkerazzi?”

“Yeah. God knows what that’ll turn out to be.”

Nadine actually had a fair idea, but no desire to talk about it. It surprised her that she would be at all unsure. It seemed obvious to her that if they were snooping around Reese not Justin the story could only take one of two forms. Either they were going to claim they were reuniting or they were going to claim Justin was having some kind of meltdown over the impending wedding. The two could even be combined. Oh well, she was pleased to know how mistaken they were. There was no way in hell that they were reuniting and Timberlake clearly only cared about the wedding so far as it could be used for ammunition in the flame war.

“How was your trip?”

“God…” Reese put down the ice pack, tossing it onto the coffee table. Pulling her feet in closer, she tucked her hands around them and rested her chin on her knees. “Still doesn’t seem real.”

“Harmony was the curly haired girl, right? The one who took you and me to that cocktail class when I visited?”

“Yeah,” she nodded.

“Yeah, she was really nice,” Nadine said. She reached out a hand and rubbed Reese’s arm. “I, umm… hope this isn’t insensitive but I took her and her boyfriend out of the seating chart. Figured he probably wouldn’t be up to the trip.”

“God I didn’t even think about that. It’s so sweet of you to think of it, thanks.”

There was another surprise – something happened that impacted the wedding and she hadn’t thought about it? Still, she supposed there was nothing like a death to give you some perspective. Reese had never fallen quite into the bridezilla stereotype but she certainly had been single-minded about the wedding arrangements, to the point of boring her maid of honour. Nadine suspected the obsession was part boredom and part determination to get the deal sealed as quickly as possible. For that reason she took it in as good a humour as she could muster, but she’d certainly welcome a bit of a step back at this stage. Even if there were only a couple of weeks to go it was better late than never.

“It was… in a strange way it was nice, you know? I got to spend some time with the girls, and the service was really nice. Tiffany and Steve did this really cute thing where we did a photo shoot of some of her favourite pictures of all of us, and we wrote messages on balloons and let them go.”

“That sounds really sweet,” she said.

“Yeah. In a weird way it was kind of friendly and social and that was her all over. I feel like we said goodbye right, you know?”

“I think that’s as much as you can ask for in this situation.”

“So how come you’re not at work, anyway?” Reese changed the subject before she started blubbing. Crying was cathartic and sometimes necessary, but she didn’t feel like indulging it now.

“I switched with Lucy; she’s got some appointment tomorrow.”

“Did you hear about the team lead thing yet?”

“Not yet. They got another candidate so we have to do interviews.”

Nadine pulled a face, as if affronted by the audacity of anyone else to want the job. Slapping a hand against Reese’s knee, she bounced back up from the couch. She did that a lot, it was hard to get her to sit still anywhere for more than a few minutes. There was always something else distracting her. Trying to have a movie night at home with her was a waste of time for that reason – she was up and down like a yo-yo and the movie never got watched. Reese had long since resigned herself to Nadine being one of those friends you had to be doing something with, going somewhere with. The only place she could get her to sit for any length of time was at a restaurant.

“I’m making some of that mint tea, you want one?”

It was well established by now that ‘mi casa es su casa’ and kitchen raiding was socially acceptable between them.

“No thanks hon, I’d better stay with the water for now.” She rolled her eyes at herself. One of these days she would learn not to let Ollie ply her with extra shots. “You’ll ace an interview though.”

“They wouldn’t tell me who it was, apparently it’s some ‘external applicant,’ but I just figure that gives me the edge.” She rummaged through the cupboards and pulled out a mug. “I know the team, and they like me, and since I already know the place I could just get in and start improving things instead of having to learn exactly how it’s broken first.”

“Saving the world one invoice at a time?”

“Hey, you can tease me all you want,” Nadine turned around and shook a teaspoon at her in mock indignation, “but carbon dating would prove their accounting system predates the dinosaurs.”

“I will never understand why you love math so much.”

“Because there’s always a right and wrong answer,” she said with a laugh. “Math is simple; everything else is a big old screwy mess. Who wants to untangle all that when you can just deal with something that follows the damn rules and works like it’s supposed to?”

Reese stuck her bottom lip out, nodding slowly and pretending to be giving the idea deep thought. “I guess that kind of makes some sense.”

“But nah, I have a whole bunch of ideas of updates we can do and how to streamline everything, because we waste so much time getting out the invoices and it’s killing cash flow. I just need to find a way to shoehorn it into the interview so they know I’ve got a game plan.”

“I doubt you’ll need to shoehorn it in sweetie,” Reese replied encouragingly. She picked up her water and took a quick sip. “Isn’t that exactly the kind of thing they ask at interviews, what you’d do in the job?”

“How would you know, Miss ‘I got hired on sight because my dad knows the guy?’ When’s the last time you did an interview?”

Nadine was only teasing her and couldn’t have known what a sore spot she’d hit. Being away from her job for a few days seemed to have shaken her out of some kind of stupor. The way she was hired was fairly typical of the whole sorry story; it was careless and as an after thought. It almost didn’t matter who she was or what she could contribute, she was filling a chair. Until Tiffany had invited her to lunch she’d been struggling to fill the time on the trip, and she realised that was because most of her time for the last few months had been spent wedding planning. The next realisation was how much of that was work time. She had so little to do in the office once she got through the morning’s routine tasks that she’d been able to devote whole blocks of her schedule to the wedding. Almost every day was taken up with passing empty hours and the idea of having nothing to fill them with was starting to fill her with dread.

Tiffany had said she and Harmony were alike because they were both dynamic – Reese didn’t feel like she’d been very dynamic recently.

“Haha.”

Not for nothing was Nadine her best friend. The laugh had been light but even so she picked up on the subtext. Without looking she was able to open the cupboard and yank the teabags out, her gaze on Reese all the while.

“You know I’m only kidding, sweetie, so I’m guessing that slightly forced tone means something else.”

“Ugh. It’s not you.” That only confirmed what she had already surmised. “I just… you’re so upbeat and excited about this opportunity - and you know I’m gunning for you all the way – but you’re kind of making me wonder what the hell I’m doing in that job.”

“Paying your bills?”

“Yeah, but work used to be more than just a pay check to me. Now I’m stuck behind a desk being bored all the time, totally unproductive… you know hard the girls had to work to sound interested when I was telling them about it at lunch? Shauna was trying so hard not to give herself away she looked like she swallowed a bug.”

“Well fuck Shauna,” Nadine said, misunderstanding. “Who cares if she’s judging?”

“No, she wasn’t judging. It’s a boring job and I just wasn’t kidding any of us trying to make it sound good.” She ran a finger around the edge of her glass, lips pursed in thought. “I mean, I know not everybody gets to have a job they love, but I used to have that. Now I have one that’s sucking the drive out of me, doesn’t pay well enough to compensate, and I can’t help wondering why I’m bothering.”

“Okay, I can get that. So if it’s bugging you that much I guess the question is what do you want to do about it?”

“I can’t afford to up and quit before I get another job, but I seriously need to think about leaving. It’s not like there’s any opportunity for promotion or to try a different department if I stay. Maybe I should go back to advertising? Like, I look at you being so excited about going for this and I miss that. I should be taking a leaf from your book and doing what gets me going.”

Nadine was now leaning against the counter, stirring her tea thoughtfully. “How does that fit in with Drake?”

Reese looked confused. “How do you mean? What’s to fit in?”

“I mean all those plans you two have to settle down here and start mass producing small people? You are marrying the guy, remember.” What she didn’t point out was that she shouldn’t have to point that out.

“I can do that and be a mom.”

“Not around here you can’t, sweetie,” she pointed out as gently as possible. She didn’t want to be unsupportive but a reality check was in order. “We got none of those places. I mean, I’m sure there are plenty of ad agencies in Memphis but they’re not going to deal with the movie industry. You’d have to move back out of state for that, if not back to Cali then maybe somewhere like New York? For which you should probably factor in Tall Dark and Oil-Stained’s opinion.”

“I thought we already discussed how you shouldn’t squash my dreams with all that completely reasonable and well thought out logic of yours?”

“Hey, hey, no dream squashing!” She smiled brightly, giving a low chuckle. “Just saying you’ll have to do some… strategic plan revision, that’s all. If you’re really serious about it.”

“Strategic plan revision…” Reese rolled the words around her tongue, tasting them. “You should use that in your interview, it sounds super smart.”

“Why thank you,” she preened, pressing a hand to her heart coquettishly and batting her eyelashes. “Seriously though, if it’s really bugging you that much talk to him about it. As much as I do not want to lose you so soon after getting you back you need to make yourself happy. And they need mechanics everywhere so it’s not like he’s geographically limited.”

“You are wise and benevolent as ever. Thanks for listening to me whine.” Reese slumped sideways against the couch and nestled her head against the cushion, smiling at her friend.

“You know whatever you want to do I’ll be standing behind you with the pom-poms. Just don’t ask me to do cartwheels because I’d probably break a hip.”

**

“Uhh… hello.”

Justin chuckled, looking at the lean body sliding onto his lap. He’d been so engrossed in what he was reading that he hadn’t noticed her approaching. She’d slipped one tan leg across and eased the rest of her body along with it, straddling him and forcing his hands apart. Her hands hit his chest and then slid upwards around the back of his neck, where they locked together.

“Hey baby,” Reese said. “What you doing?”

“Well I was attempting to read a script but then this woman just came and threw herself at me out of nowhere. Some people have no respect for personal space.”

Though his response was dry his hands betrayed him. They had already dropped the script and were currently going in slow circles over her hips and bare legs. As far as he was concerned the guy who invented short shorts was the greatest humanitarian of all time; it was certainly a service to mankind. As much as Justin loved seeing Reese dressed up and appreciated her dress sense, one of his favourite ways to see her was in her current state. She was in a vest and the shorts, barefoot and with her hair scraped back in a haphazard ponytail. It wasn’t so much the look, he just liked being the one who got to see her like that. You’d never catch her leaving the house that way. Somehow it felt like a Reese that was all his, like he was the only one she trusted to see her without the window dressing.

“If it bothers you I could find some other guy to go sit on.”

“Oh we both know you’re only sittin’ on me right now because you want something, so I doubt that’d work out for you doing it to somebody else. I feel so used.”

Reese raised her right eyebrow at him and gave him a pointed look. Clearly he was not at all bothered by her tactics because even as he said it his arms were tightening around her. His eyes were dropping to her cleavage.

“Maybe I’m just bored.”

“No, when you’re bored you pout at me until I pay you some attention. This is definitely the ‘I want something’ manoeuvre.”

“Geez. Do you have to make me sound so manipulative?” Reese laughed through the words, fingers twisting around the hair at the nape of his neck.

“Since we both know I enjoy having you throw yourself at me I’d consider it more of a negotiation than manipulation. What is it, peanut?”

“Okay, okay, you got me.” She sat back slightly, her hands now resting on his shoulders. “So I wanted to talk to you about this work thing.”

“Uh huh…” His brow furrowed slightly. He wasn’t sure where she was going with this, but if she’d approached him with that strategy it meant she didn’t think he’d like it. She thought she’d have to talk him around. That didn’t bode well.

“So they offered to let me help out with this big launch, it’s this huge client and it’s a really good opportunity to get my awesome organisational skills seen by some of the higher ups. You know how we were talking about me wanting to graduate a little and move up the food chain?”

“Yes, and being the emotionally supportive yet still dangerously sexy fiancé that I am I said I was totally on board with that. So what’s the catch?”

Damn him – this was the problem with being with somebody who had known you since first grade. There was no beating around the bush or gently easing him in. He knew everything about her which meant he knew all her tricks and how she operated. As far as he was concerned she was completely transparent.

“Right before things are going to be totally nuts, I’m barely going to have time to breathe… and it’s in March.”

“March, huh?” Justin tipped his head back and pretended to ponder that. “Hmm, I wonder what other event you could possibly have scheduled for March…”

“Well it’s really more pencilled in than scheduled.” The joke was weak.

“Yeah peanut, and it was ‘pencilled in’ for September before that.” Justin sighed and gave her a long suffering look. Her response was to run her hands up and down his biceps, looking guilty.

“I know, I know. That was why I wanted to talk to you about it before I said yes. I mean I really want to do it and I think it really would be a great opportunity, but I don’t want to make you unhappy over it.”

He shook his head, giving her a reassuring squeeze round the middle. “It would be pretty unreasonable to get mad at you for wanting to take a good career opportunity, like I haven’t postponed stuff on you before. I just…”

“What, baby?” Now she was stroking the side of his head, running her hand through his hair.

What he wanted to say was that he was getting frustrated at the constant set backs. Throughout his life he’d always been the kind of guy who got driven to make his move at particular times, had his gut instinct for when he needed to turn his attention to a particular thing. It told him when to make his next album, it told him when he needed to go work on one of his side projects, and it was telling him that he really wanted to get married soon. Besides, there were only so many times you could have people bug you about when the big day was before it started to grate your nerves. Since he had so many nosy journalists wanting to know that point arrived a little sooner for him than most. What Justin wanted to tell her was that he didn’t think it was a good idea to keep putting it off.

When he looked in her face it was no good though, he couldn’t do it. When she’d started talking about it she’d sounded excited, and even now there was a hopeful light behind her hazel eyes. He was a sucker for that light. After all, part of what he loved about Reese was the way she set her mind to achieving things.

“Can you blame me for being in a hurry to make you mine and have your babies?”

“I am totally available for practising in the meantime.”

“You’ll owe me a shit ton of practising in the meantime,” he threatened.

“Is that a yes?”

Justin inhaled, steeling himself for the answer he didn’t want to give. “If not March I don’t have a good gap until August, and I really don’t want to go any longer than that. August is my final offer.”

“Summer weddings are way better than spring ones anyway. Thank you thank you thank you,” she punctuated each one with a kiss planted on his face. “You seriously are the most emotionally supportive and dangerously sexy fiancé ever.”

“I’m a sucker is what I am. Don’t think I don’t know that’s why you played the lap dance card.”

“Please, that was not a lap dance. Though… since I’ve already interrupted you anyway…”

She waggled her eyebrows at him and gave him a naughty grin. It was a bit of a cliché to bribe your other half with sexual favours, but she honestly did appreciate the concession he’d made. She knew how eager he had been for a short engagement and she kept derailing that. Besides, sexual favours were usually as much fun for her as for him. She’d been bored before she came to talk to him. Reese took his face in her hands and started placing kisses around it again, taking a little longer and pressing her body flush to his. She shifted her hips just enough to tease at grinding.

“Ugh.” Justin sighed once more as he bent his head and started trailing his own mouth along her jaw. “I am way too frickin’ easy.”

“Shh.” Reese playfully nipped at his bottom lip. “How you supposed to concentrate on practising if you keep talking?”

“Okay, you just asked for it baby.”

Without warning he moved, lifting them both out of his seat and pinning her beneath his body on the couch with one smooth motion. She let out a surprised shriek before descending into giggles as he attacked her neck.

Toying with the phone as if it would make the decision for her was pointless. There was nothing useful about it. She turned it in circles against the table, spinning it around with her index finger. That didn’t help. Flipping it over and looking at the butterfly print on the back of the case didn’t do much either. Pressing the button and seeing the picture of Drake kissing her cheek flash onscreen had no notable effect.

None of this stopped Reese from staring at it as if it could give her the answer she needed. Maybe the phone call was a bad idea? Or maybe she was being a drama queen. It was only an enquiry, after all. It was a question. It wasn’t a plan of action; it wasn’t a commitment to doing anything. It was dialling a number and letting it ring, that was all.

Finally she seized the phone in her hand, unlocked it and pulled up the contact before she could change her mind for the fiftieth time. It didn’t ring for very long before a familiar voice came down the line.

“Hey Reese!”

“Hey Sarah!” It was nice to hear somebody using a ‘pleased to hear from you’ tone. Most of her phone calls lately were to wedding suppliers who sounded like she was straining their patience. “How are you sweetie?”

“I’m great, just got into the office so I’m making coffee while my e-mails load. How about you, what you up to?”

“I’m on my lunch break, waiting for a friend and going through some wedding stuff. In fact isn’t it pretty late for you to be just getting into work?” Even with the time difference that seemed late. “Normally you’re there so early.”

“Hannigan’s just had knee surgery so he’s working from home a lot. I had to go there to meet with him first thing.”

“Oh wow, what did he do?”

“He was doing a 10k and tore his anterior something or other.”

“Ouch.”

“Yeah, I told him exercise is bad for you. So anyway, how’s the big day shaping up? Not long to go!”

“It’s on track. Wish you guys could make the bachelorette though, at this rate I think it’s going to be just me and Nadine and my sister in law.”

“Yeah, me too.” Reese couldn’t see her, but Sarah was pouting at the other end of the phone while she was punching buttons on the espresso machine. “None of us could get the days. Oh well, we have the whole reception to party! Can’t wait to see your dress.”

When the lunch talk about her job had gone down like watching paint dry, Reese had quickly shifted gears to the wedding plans. It was a brilliant conversation booster when chat was running dry, she would miss that after the knot was tied. You could get a good half an hour or so out of it before you ran out of details to pick over.

“I can’t wait to see you guys either. Though, that wasn’t actually why I was calling.”

“Ulterior motive! And there was me thinking you missed me,” Sarah laughed. “Sure thing honey, what do you need?”

“Okay, so first I need you to swear that you will not say anything to anyone.”

“Well now I’m intrigued.”

“Seriously, Sarah,” Reese said as her fingers tapped against the side of her glass. “I don’t want anybody else hearing this and getting prematurely excited.”

“Oh my God!” Sarah let out the exclamation a bit too loud and then had to check around herself to make sure she hadn’t attracted attention. She hadn’t but lowered her voice anyway. “Are you pregnant?”

“No! God no!” She rushed to put down that rumour before it began. “I just wanted to ask if you’d do a little digging around for me and find out if there are any job openings.”

It was probably a good thing Sarah had made the pregnancy mistake; otherwise she’d have probably had the same reaction on hearing that question. It was out of her system now. That was a good thing too because she could immediately see why Reese wanted this kept quiet. If she told any of the other girls they’d probably get keyed up and assume it meant an imminent return to the area. Even so, she couldn’t help a little excited jitter in her stomach. It had been Sarah who originally directed Reese to the place, as she was one of the marketing executives there. She missed having her as a work buddy.

“Openings here or in general?”

“There would be great, but I know I kind of left them in the lurch so I wouldn’t count on that. And I’m not picky at this stage anyway; I just want to get a feel for what’s around.”

“Are you thinking about coming back?” It was an effort not to sound too eager.

“Purely speculative right now. I’m thinking about trying to get back in and there’s not a lot of opportunity in Tennessee. I mean, even if I do it still might not be LA, but figured I should put some feelers out.”

“Well, there’s nothing here right this second, but the way Mendoza is going through them? I’d be generous if I gave the latest one another month before she quits or he fires her.”

That name wasn’t familiar to her, so she supposed he was new. “Is he that bad?”

“Doesn’t suffer fools but no worse than any of the others. I think we just need to change agencies again - we moved to this new place to try and reduce fees, but nobody they’ve sent us has been any good so far. Which…” Sarah trailed off in a tantalising pause, ready to drop some honeyed encouragement. “I actually think that would work in your favour if you applied, because a known entity would look pretty good to them after all this hassle. Think it would balance out any damage from you leaving so abruptly before, so if you were going to do it  then now would probably be the most opportune time.”

It was almost as if Reese could hear the cogs starting to turn in her own head. They sounded a little creaky but they were definitely firing up.  

“Thanks, sweetie, that’s good to know. Can you keep an ear out for me?”

“Course I will. Listen, I got to run because I have some meeting prep to do but if I don’t speak to you before I’ll see you at the church.”

“Thanks honey. You can’t miss me; I’m the one in the big white dress.”

“Ha ha! Love you, see you soon.”

“Love ya too, bye.”

Reese tossed her phone on the table and picked her pen back up, tapping it against her folder. Her trusty wedding organiser had been open in front of her for some time now and she’d been ignoring it. If she hadn’t been distracted by the phone she’d been distracted by people watching. Sitting outside was terrible for making her procrastinate – far more fun to observe people going by and dream up elaborate stories of what they were doing with their days. Picking up her tea to take a sip, it occurred to her that her food should have got there by now. How long did it take to toast some cheese and ladle out some soup?

She didn’t have much time to think about it, however, as she caught sight of Justin walking down the street. He was carrying bags and they were clinking suspiciously, so she guessed he’d been to the liquor store.

“Hey you,” he said as he stopped at the table. His handsome face was arranged in a genial smile, and he sounded cheerful.

“Hey yourself.” Reese still felt a little too anxious around him to match his smile, but nonetheless it was an improvement on previous occasions. The fear was more reflexive than anything at this point, an echo of previous unpleasantness. She didn’t expect him to be rude any more but her defensive instincts hadn’t quite caught up.

“I always wondered how a place selling hot drinks made any money in the South outside of winter.” He nodded towards the sign when he reached her. It designated the place as an English tea shop. “They just dump a bunch of ice in it instead, huh?” He gestured to her drink.

“Pretty much. Though I don’t even think the English drink iced tea, do they?”

“Nope, just hot. They look at you like you’re some kind of freak if you ask.” Justin spoke from experience. As he glanced down at her drink he saw the binder spread out before her. “Busy with the big day, huh?”

He inwardly applauded himself for that performance. The voice remained light, the demeanour relaxed and the face nonchalant. The other thing he was congratulating himself for was the way she had responded to his friendly overtures in kind. Apparently she meant it when she said they were okay now. The talk in the hut had felt like a death knell but he must have said something right, so he would allow himself some small measure of kudos. It was only a small one, however, in case he got too overconfident and scared her back off again. As personality traits went his innate cockiness worked great for his stage persona but was more of a flaw in delicate situations.

“I’m supposed to be.”

“Supposed to… procrastinating, huh?”

“Couple of other things on my mind. One of which I wanted to talk to you about, actually, did you hear back from your publicist?”

“Okay… if we need to chat do you mind if I sit down for a second? Bags are killing me.”

There was brief hesitation. Were there still cameras around, should she be worried about being seen with him? She shook it off. “Sure.”

Eagerly Justin sat down, very pleased to be able to set the bags aside. He’d bought some bottles of locally distilled bourbon as a thank you to take back to LA for some people. This would have been no issue if he hadn’t been forced to park so far from the store. Naively he’d presumed it would be fine. He worked out, he did weights - they couldn’t be that heavy right? It was flawed thinking and his arms were now burning as punishment. The bag handles had left indents in his fingers.

“So did you?” Reese asked, picking up her tea and taking a sip through the straw.

“Yes, and they haven’t heard anything,” Justin said. Reaching into one of the bags, he pulled out the soda he’d bought and guiltily checked for any nearby waiting staff before opening it.

“Huh.” She leaned back in her chair, lips curling to one side in contemplation. “I would have expected them to publish by now if they were going to. But then I can’t imagine if they sent somebody all the way out here that they’re not going to.”

“I ran over it with Johnny and his best guess is that it’s not a breaking headline, somebody’s just picked up on the wedding and they’re going to do some puff piece about me moping or whatever.” He shrugged. “Whatever it is nobody can see that it’s anything that’ll impact you. I asked if they thought someone might try to intrude at the wedding, but nobody thought so since clearly I’m not going to be there.”

Even though she knew what he meant by that and he wasn’t being at all accusing (as if he would ever expect an invitation), the sentence still hung for a second. He could be as neutral as they came but it was inevitably awkward.

“Okay, cool. Thanks for checking.”

“No problem, anything you need.” He took a breath for a moment, pondering whether to try and keep up some small talk or not. Thus far this encounter seemed healthy and cordial, so he didn’t want to push it, but then he didn’t want to waste it while it lasted either. “So what else was distracting you?”

“Well…” How much did she really want to say about it? “I was rethinking my career situation. No point doing anything until after the wedding but I’m ready for a job change.”

“Oh. Well that’s cool.” Justin was a little surprised. Last he’d heard she was ready to give work up and become a baby machine. “What you thinking of?”

“Something like my last one? I don’t know, I haven’t got any further than ‘God I want a new job’ in the whole thing.”

That was even more of a surprise. A hopeful little voice in the back of his mind wanted to believe this had something to do with the things he’d said to her, but asking her was a no go.

“You might struggle if you’re going to be based in Shelby.” Little did he know that he was in agreement with his enemy by saying so.

“I know. Like I said, I barely started thinking about it let alone planning.”

Even if he had felt it a ripe time to ask why she was even thinking about it, that thought was quickly curtailed. Behind Reese he saw a familiar flash of red hair and knew that the amiable atmosphere was about to come to an abrupt end. She had seen him too, and was already marching over.

“Excuse you, jackass, you’re in my chair.”

“Hi Nadine,” he said wearily. “How are you?”

“I’ll be better when you push off and stop harassing my friend.”

“He’s not harassing me Nade. I invited him to sit down.” Reese’s elbow propped on the table and she rested her chin in her hand with a resigned huff. Her shoulders were tensed, her whole body anticipating the diatribe that was about to hit.

“In God’s name why? Did you hit your head or something?”

Justin eyeballed Reese, who was looking twitchy yet defiant, and a smirk played at the edge of his lips. It would have provoked Nadine further so he fought it back. More than once she’d told him how much she hated his ‘smug face’ so looking too much like he was gloating was not a good idea. Normally he wouldn’t care if he aggravated her, since she was always equally belligerent towards him, but she was much higher up Reese’s list than him right now. There was no point picking a losing fight.

“I take it you didn’t tell her,” he said. It was not a question.

“Tell me what?”

Now Nadine’s stern glare had fixed on her not him. Reese squeezed her eyes shut. Then she could pretend that if she couldn’t see her best pal she wasn’t there and wouldn’t get pissed off by what she was about to say.

“Justin and I…”

She didn’t get any further. “Justin and you? Like there is any Justin and you?”

“Nadine!” Reese exclaimed.

“Well there’s not, is there, since he went and…”

“I didn’t forget, thank you!” She was shrill and Justin cringed in response. He’d prefer it if she would forget. “We got talking over the trip and we agreed that the arguing was dumb, so we’re making an effort to get along. Which means NOT picking a fight with him in the street if you wouldn’t mind.”

“What, because he’s been so restrained about picking fights?”

“I know. I’m working on it,” he tried to assure her.

“And what, you want a cookie? For the rest of us it’s basic expected behaviour.”

“Nade, you need to can it,” Reese said.

Something about the exchange awoke her stubborn streak. Nadine had no say in who she spoke to. The enmity between her and Justin was long standing and the tally of immature behaviour even on both sides, but on this occasion it was solely her being combative.

“He was extremely generous to me when he didn’t have to be and he’s been perfectly pleasant since. It’s none of your business whether or not I choose to be civil with him but it’s a lot easier for me, so please just save it. I’m not asking you to be friends with him.”

“But you’re friends with him? After all that crap he said?”

“It’s complicated. Whatever, hostilities have ceased and I don’t need you reopening them.”

“It’s alright, I need to get going.” Justin thought he should leave while Reese was still on his side. Nadine was unlikely to let this drop and there would only be so long he could take it before things got ugly. It would be hard to convince Reese that he wasn’t some petty asshole while trading shots. “Rest assured I’m leaving Sunday anyway so you won’t have to worry about me stealing your seat any more.”

“You are?” Reese asked.

“Yeah. Was supposed to be here longer but stuff’s popping back up in LA and there’s no point in me coming back and forth like this.”

That was true, but apart from anything else he had come to a decision. Although he’d thought long and hard about what Steve had said to him, ultimately Justin felt he had to be guided by Reese on this one. She was getting married. Said marriage was already a million times closer to happening than theirs ever got. The last thing he wanted was to jeopardise whatever he could get back for something that he couldn’t. She had taken any romantic reconciliation off the table when she put that little gold ring on her finger. He hadn’t shown that choice much respect up until now and it hadn’t deterred her, so it seemed to Justin like he was better off giving up the ghost and trying to rebuild their friendship. Maybe now there was at least some prospect of that, it would help him get over her romantically.

“Oh dear. What a shame.”

“I’ll miss you too, Red.” He rolled his eyes, scraping back the chair and standing up. “Reese, I’ll let you know if I hear anything else from the publicist.”

“Thank you Justin.” Reese pointedly glared at Nadine after she said it. As Justin walked away with his bags she slid into the vacated seat, folded her arms and glared straight back. She remained unrepentant.

“You’re out of your mind.”

“You’re out of line.”

“I was the one who had to mop up the mess.”

“No, I was the one who had to get through all of it - and as that person I’m fine with it. So if you don’t have anything nice to say about the fact that he’s finally trying to be an adult, then zip it.”

Any further comment her friend had been about to make was mercifully derailed by the late arrival of her tomato soup and toasted cheese sandwich.

**

Drake wished he’d never stopped to watch that stupid show.

He hadn’t intended to. There was no normal circumstance under which he would. He’d got home from his shift and Reese wasn’t back from work yet, so he had cleaned up and dropped onto the couch. The next move had been channel surfing, looking for something he could stare at and shut his brain off for. He had been flipping aimlessly through when he’d heard his fiancée’s name. Wouldn’t anyone stop to watch if they heard their wife-to-be mentioned on primetime television? It was his big mistake.

There was nobody to blame but himself, because he’d gone in with his eyes wide open. He knew that her most recent ex was an A-list celebrity. Logic dictated that any time she was mentioned on an entertainment network it was something to do with the ex. Common sense similarly dictated that no good could ever come out of knowing too much about your partner’s former love life. He knew that they had been engaged and he knew they’d known each other since they were kids, knew it had been serious, but that was as much as he did know or wanted to know. Reese had said and he’d agreed that it was better not to dwell on each other’s pasts. He should have stuck to that, because now there was a deeply annoying gnawing sensation in his chest.

People had asked him before how he coped with knowing she’d dated a millionaire previously. He’d meant it when he shrugged and said it made no difference. Everybody had an ex somewhere. He didn’t care if anybody had more money than him. Why should he? He was secure in his life; it’d never make him rich, but it would make him happy. Who cared what some former guy had? She was with him now. By all accounts they were much further en route to the altar than she and the ex had ever got anyway.

That was easy to say when it was purely academic. Now, confronted with the past, he had to put his money where his mouth was.

It had been a short spiel about a forthcoming magazine story. The feature was going to be about Timberlake and how cut up he supposedly was over the upcoming nuptials. That didn’t bother Drake. Reese had warned him how little of the gossip turned out to be factual, and even if the guy was pining it didn’t affect the outlook for the soon to be Mr and Mrs Turner. A bit of press attention was easy to ignore.

What bothered him was watching footage of them. He’d never been tempted before; clearly that had been wise, because this was crazy inducing. There was his Reese, all dressed up to the nines at various award shows and looking lovingly at some other guy.

Of course they cherry picked the happy footage. He understood that. They were playing up the fairytale aspect of childhood sweethearts to go with the story. He knew that in real life people didn’t wear glossy smiles and stare adoringly at each other all the time. Knowing that didn’t stop the image being effective. She looked so glamorous and elegant she was almost like a stranger. Worse, she looked infatuated with the man next to her. Drake could only hope that was how footage of him and her would look if anybody bothered to take any.

Watching some other guy’s eyes all over his woman similarly stirred up antipathy, even though he knew begrudging it was illogical. There was also candid footage of them kissing, talking, holding hands. It all drew together as one irritating portrait of love and happiness. It was probably bugging him so much because it didn’t fit his previous ideas; even when avoiding the topic he had still managed to form an impression of what happened. It had been subconscious, but he now realised the acrimonious break up allowed him to form a picture of an unhappy couple - one which wasn’t going to work and left the way conveniently free and clear for him. Clearly that hadn’t been the reality. 

Hearing the comments was worse.

“For me I’m with somebody who’s been my best friend since we were knee high, so that’s a good foundation. Knowing each other that well is a powerful thing to have.”

“Well, I mean, it’s not like I specifically sit down and think ‘oh I’m going to write a song about her’… but then I guess by the same token when you write you’re drawing from what you know, and she is what I know. So in that respect I guess you could argue that any love song I write ultimately ties back at least a little, even when I’m putting on a character and telling a totally different story. I guess it’s just that point of reference, you know, and then as a writer you find some place else to take it.”

“Honestly, I’ve felt married to her for an age anyway. At this stage it’s just filing paperwork!”

From the dates on some of the footage whatever happened had been fast moving and sudden, not the result of a gradual breakdown. That bothered Drake. The speed at which he and Reese went from meeting to engagement had never been cause for concern for him – when it felt right it felt right. The idea that it was so soon after she’d looked at some other guy like that was harder to stomach.

It wasn’t her fault. He was being paranoid and he knew it. She’d chosen him and the life they had planned (which comfortingly was a far cry from the one on the TV screen). Clearly it all had little to do with the present day Reese and what she wanted. What she wanted was him, there was a ring on her finger to prove it, and he should put her ex back out of his mind. This overanalysing only went to prove exactly why they’d been right to take the attitude they did to each other’s pasts. Nothing but irrational jealousy would follow and that wasn’t worth it.

Knowing that did not help shut up the reel of Justin Timberlake quotes currently playing in his head.

Drake could not have been more thrilled to step into the diner and into the air con. The system at the garage was busted and it was one of the few errors they couldn’t fix themselves. While they were waiting for the call out they were dying in the heat.

It wasn’t only the temperature. The entire day so far made him feel like shrivelling up. The customers were all in foul moods. There was not a single easy fix on the roster. Even the things that seemed straightforward kept getting more complicated every time he looked at them. They were a man down. Everybody wanted everything done five minutes ago and to top it all off Reese had called him with the fabulous news that they’d underestimated on the final florist invoice. At first she’d thought they were overcharging, but Nadine’s superior math skills had spotted that the mistake was in their original calculations. None of these things by themselves were the end of the world, but they were piling up and making the day painful. When he’d been involuntarily nominated to go pick up their regular lunch order he hadn’t even protested. He needed the break.

“Hey Emma,” he greeted the waitress. “Come for the usual?”

“Oh, sorry Drake, we’re running a little behind – it’ll be five minutes.”

He was torn between being annoyed and grateful for the delay. He couldn’t afford it, but at the same time it was a few more minutes out of the place.

“No problem.” He waved it off, slipping onto a stool at the counter.

Slumping over, he fiddled with whatever was close to hand. The sugar shaker, the menu, the napkin dispenser, they all served as distractions while he tried to clear his brain out. Something about the pointless movements and the inanity of them served to block out the noise.

He didn’t heed the bell that signalled another customer coming in. He didn’t catch sight of the body that came to stand at the counter less than a few feet away. Drake didn’t register anything until he realised there was a new buzz of conversation in the diner.

When he looked up and around the source became obvious. There in the flesh was his predecessor, looking wary and all too cognisant of the stir he’d just created. Drake had no idea if he’d seen him in return, but if he did he wasn’t showing it. They’d met so very briefly when he and Trace picked Reese up for the airport – only five seconds for a hello and a handshake - that Justin might not recognise him. He was in a t-shirt and jeans and had pulled a baseball cap well down over his face, shielding himself as much as possible.

Drake hadn’t said a word to Reese about seeing the TV show, thought it was best ignored. Seeing the ex in the flesh was weird enough the first time but even stranger now. He seemed so very ordinary compared to the guy in the tux from those clips. That was a lot less intimidating, but there was a little voice in the back of his head reminding him that this rich, famous, powerful man had been with his fiancée and could probably lay much better claim to knowing her than he could. That rankled a little, even though he knew it was silly.

It was also silly to size him up, comparing as if they were prize fighters, yet still he did. Little did he know that Justin had done like wise. Justin had indeed clocked his presence, but hadn’t said anything – too distracted by the obvious thrill that had run through the room. He’d inwardly groaned when he saw the onlookers’ reactions, wondering how long it would be before somebody tried to take a picture. The effect he caused when he walked in a room had been novel at the beginning of his career but was now tiresome.

As comparisons went it was probably a draw. They were more or less the same height. Where Justin was neat and casual, Drake looked dirty. The navy overalls were currently tied at his waist, his white vest covered in oil and making him looking grubby. The vest may have made him look untidy but it also showed off his biceps – where Justin was lean from dancing, Drake was muscled from lifting car parts all day. They were both built enough to make each other self-conscious, at any rate.

Justin placed his order, glanced furtively to his left and took a breath. There was no part of him that wanted to do this, but Reese knew that he could recognise Drake. If she heard from the boyfriend that they’d been in the same diner she’d know he had blanked him. In the interests of making the effort with her he was going to have to do a few things he’d prefer not to.

“Hey… Drake?”

Drake was taken aback and a little on edge at being addressed. “Hey. Good to see you again.”

“And you,” he said, holding out his hand. “Little less rushed this time, I know we ran out of there Sunday morning.”

He hadn’t expected that either, but the politeness immediately helped take the edge off. See, this really was a mere mortal like any other. He returned the shake. “Not a problem.”

“Little overdue to speak properly though, I owe you some congratulations.”

“Thanks. Which, I probably owe you some thanks for helping Reese out with the funeral and everything. I know she really appreciates it.”

“Nah, it was nothing.” Justin glanced down at the counter, managing to look almost everywhere but directly at him. Doing this kind of thing was never as bad as the anticipation of it, but it still wasn’t a picnic. Hopefully one or other of their orders would make it here quickly. “Though, speaking of, would you mind passing Reese a message?”

The kneejerk reaction was indignation – pass on his rival’s messages to his own fiancée? Thankfully he was sensible enough to breathe in and count to five. It was an anger management trick he’d been taught in his rebellious teenage past, and it still proved useful to this day. It bought him the seconds he needed to rationalise away his reaction. Clearly if Timberlake considered him of all people a safe intermediary then this message had to be benign.

“What’s up?”

Justin scowled. “I assume she told you about the press at the funeral and at her night out with her brothers?”

She had, though it was interesting she’d told her ex about the latter. Not so long ago she’d start fuming at the mere mention of him, but seemingly the funeral had mellowed her out towards him. “Yes.”

“I told her I’d let her know if my publicist found out what their story was going to be. As expected it’s some bullshit about how I’m going to run in and object at your wedding or something.”

Normally Justin would have simply texted the news, not relayed a message through somebody else. While talking to Drake though he’d had a brainwave that being nice to her fiancé and using him as an intermediary would benefit him more. It would look incredibly mature of him. That sounded calculated and self-serving even to him but he had a lot of ground to make up. Anything he could do to present himself in a more favourable light he would do, even if it meant dealing with the successor he still didn’t understand.

Drake’s laugh was a little too high pitched and he cursed himself. Did he have to sound quite so relieved, like he’d thought Justin was likely to do that? “Yeah, she said they’re a creative bunch.”

“Yeah.” The blue eyes rolled skyward. “Problem is… you might want to break this to her gently, but apparently they got pictures from inside the service.”

“There were paparazzi inside a funeral? Jesus!”

“No. That’s the thing,” he said. Drake was almost alarmed by the dark shadow that clouded his eyes. “There was a guest list and security; they arranged that precisely because I was there. It had to have been somebody who was invited.”

“Shiiiiiiit.” He let out a low whistle. “Somebody who actually knew y’all did that? That’s low.”

“I know. She’s probably going to be upset, so I understand if you’d rather not have to be the messenger…”

“No, that’s okay.” The reply was too hurried. “I’ll see her before you do anyway.”

Justin tried not to take that as any kind of shot or gloating. It was probably unfounded to even suspect that it was, but he didn’t feel too bad about any unfair aspersions. This guy had Reese so he was still winning either way.

“God,” Drake said. “Photographers following you around, people selling you out at funerals… this what it’s generally like to be you?”

“Unfortunately.” It was the best comment Drake could have made – that small touch of sympathy allowed Justin to warm up to him a bit. The opportunity to whine was what he needed in that second and Trace was occupied elsewhere. “Back when I started out it wasn’t so bad, it was just a few photographers and you had some time before the story would turn up, but now it’s everybody with a phone and that’s much easier to hide than a camera. Everybody’s the damn paparazzi these days - between the two of us Reese and I know pretty much everybody who could have taken that shot.”

It would have been great if it had been anyone in her life other than Justin in front of him. Then Drake could have asked how Reese traditionally reacted in these situations and got some advice. It would be good to know what he could expect when he told her. There was no way in hell however that he was going to admit any deficiency in his knowledge of her to this guy. No matter how polite he’d been, Drake still had the image of him gazing adoringly at his fiancée in his mind’s eye.

“That sucks, man, really.”

“Here you go!”

He was interrupted by Emma finally arriving with the team’s lunch order, so he pulled out some bills and handed them to her. “Thanks Em, keep the change. Listen I got to run but thanks for the info, I’ll let Reese know.”

“No problem. Nice to meet you.”

“You too.”

**

“Baby?” Drake called out as he heard the telltale click of the lock.

“Hey!” Reese smiled as she walked in, tossing her bag on the table and kicking off her pumps. “Good day?”

“Decidedly not. Everybody’s been in a shitty mood for some reason; think there’s something in the water.”

“That sucks.”

“What about you, how was yours?”

“Boring as usual.” She rolled her eyes. Walking over to the couch, she flopped down next to him. Even as she did he was lifting his arm up so that he could settle it over her shoulders.

“Hey, only a week to go and then we get some vacation time.” Drake leaned over and pressed his lips to her temple. Briefly she smiled back at him before reaching over and pulling the TV guide off the table. “So listen, did you feel like going out for dinner? There’s nothing in the place.”

“Could always cheat and see what my mom made,” she replied as she flipped through the pages. “Way she likes to overfeed Ollie when he’s home she’ll have extra. Heck, I bet she’s got enough to keep us going ‘til the wedding.”

He was not keen on that idea since it meant sitting through a dinner with said brother. The guy didn’t seem to have warmed to him much. Dean was friendly, Sam was politely engaging, and Clark showed typical teenage disinterest. Oliver displayed minimum courtesy but hadn’t made much effort to get to know him or to connect when he tried to start a conversation. Since he appeared to be Reese’s favourite brother (though Drake was sure she’d deny having one if asked) that bugged him.

“Honestly, much as I love my future in laws after a day like today I’d prefer to be greedy and have you to myself.”

“Nice answer, charmer.” Without looking up from the magazine she gave his leg a poke. “Out’s fine then.”

“Any preferences?”

“Nope.”

Drake peered down at Reese’s face and smiled. He enjoyed the normality of such mundane interactions. It might sound stupid to some but he loved the domesticity. Nobody could be surprised after an upbringing like his, constantly being evicted and shunted between relatives, but he cherished the opportunity to be secure and stable and even a bit boring. Things had been on a constant upswing since he’d moved here. He finally had a steady job and some prospects; he’d met a wonderful woman and was going to have the family he’d always wanted. He had friends and a life and a future, all happily settled and a far cry from the upheaval and histrionics of his childhood home. In hindsight, his mother kicking him out (for the final but hardly first time) in favour of her hundredth unsuitable boyfriend had been the only good thing she’d ever done for her son. He didn’t miss anyone or anything from his former existence.

The smile faded when he remembered he needed to have a conversation with her about something distasteful.

“Oh, I umm, I wanted to mention something to you.”

“Yeah?”

“I ran into Justin Timberlake at the diner today.”

Reese’s body stiffened, and finally she looked up from the magazine. In such a small town it was bound to happen some time, but the way he’d led into it couldn’t be good. Had Justin been rude?

“Oh?”

“He, umm… apparently you spoke to him about that whole thing with the photographer?”

“Yeah, I did.”

“He asked me to pass on a message from his publicist; it’s an article about him crashing the wedding or some dumb shit.”

“Oh.” Her relief was both audible and visible. It made Drake cringe because he knew it was premature.

“But apparently they managed to get photos of you from inside the funeral.”

“They WHAT?”

Reese jumped back off of the couch, storming away, and Drake held out his hands as if to ask why. There hadn’t been a split second between him telling her and her leaping up like that. Of course he hadn’t expected her to be happy, but to leave his side with such sheer speed? She couldn’t possibly be mad at him for relaying the message could she?

Muttering obscenities and not bothering to keep it under her breath, she had yanked her bag back off of the table and was digging furiously through it.

“Don’t suppose he said if he’s told Tiffany or Steve yet?”

“Didn’t mention it.” Did that mean she was mad at Justin? What was this reaction?

When she located her phone she yanked it out and tapped out a brief text message to Justin asking the same question. The reply was almost instantaneous – she guessed he’d been expecting her to contact him.

‘Yeah, I let Tiff know so she can warn Steve in person. So sorry about this peanut x’

Her reply back was succinct.

‘Not your fault people are soulless bastards.’

‘Not sure what pics they got but trying to find out. Though will probably be online before I can anyway.’

Well that was just great, Reese thought to herself. Now she was going to spend all evening with one eye on the gossip blogs. They were poisonous places which she knew she should stay clear of. She’d learned that lesson quickly while with Justin (they’d given her a persona as suited them, which was as a needy girlfriend paranoid about more famous rivals). Most of the time she exercised self-restraint – that was a particularly impressive feat around the time of the break up. Now however she knew curiosity would get her. She had to know what pictures they had. She’d be scrutinising the angle to see if she could work out who might have taken them.

“Are you okay?”

It made her jump. Momentarily she’d forgotten her fiancé was in the room. “Yeah, sorry. Just pissed off. It was a God damned funeral for God’s sake, you’d think people would show some respect.”

“Yeah, Justin was saying everybody with a phone is trying it these days,” Drake said. “Man, bet you really don’t miss that. Not a lot of paparazzi around here.”

“Paparazzi can all go die horribly as far as I’m concerned,” she replied.

“I mean, really, how did you live like that every day knowing anybody could turn around and sell you like that?” He mused out loud, crossing his arms over his chest and shaking his head. “Can’t imagine anybody doing that around here, people actually know you and give a shit about you. You get to a city like that and it’s everybody for their own, no sense of neighbourliness.”

“Not exactly the city’s fault,” Reese replied. “People can be greedy anywhere, and there’s a lot of great stuff in LA.”

“Heh. Lord knows we’re better off here,” he responded.

With that comment, Reese immediately decided that tonight was not the night to discuss the prospect of moving. The more she’d thought about it the more she thought the town held no decent job prospects for her, but clearly this was not the time to convince Drake of that. The prosecution had just put forward some powerful evidence, so her defence might need to be timed for a more suitable moment when the bad impression had died away. He was wrongly attributing the darker side of fame to the location.

“You know what, after that I think some friendly faces are in order - ones I know would beat up paps for me not sell me to them. Think we should go to my mom’s after all.”

He tried not to sigh out loud.

Trace had been snoozing comfortably on the couch when the doorbell roused him. When he’d fallen asleep he wasn’t sure, but his head was protesting at being woken up. He felt dozy and groggy. It was probably his own fault – he and Justin had spent the previous night drinking far too heavily into the small hours of the morning. Then he’d been up early. They’d reconvened at the Harless house for lunch, but at some point he must have drifted off.

As he sat up he noticed that Justin was nowhere to be seen. That seemed odd since from the sound of the voices in the hall it was Lynn who’d opened the door. They were both indistinct to his fuzzy brain but undoubtedly female. So if his best pal wasn’t in the room or answering the door where had he got to?

“Trace, honey?” Lynn called out softly from behind him, unsure if he was still asleep.

“Yeah?” He twisted around in the seat to look at his friend’s mother, then caught sight of her guest. It caused him substantial surprise. “Oh, hey Reese.”

“I was just telling Reese that Justin went out to the store for me while you were napping, he shouldn’t be much longer. No doubt you two can entertain each other until he’s back.”

It was hard to read the expression on Lynn’s face. Trace wasn’t sure how much Justin had mentioned to his mother about the baby steps he and Reese had taken to repair their friendship, but he guessed it wasn’t a lot. The one thing he was certain that he was seeing was shock. Her eyebrows were sitting abnormally high, like she was fighting not to raise them. She didn’t look disapproving, exactly, but was that wariness in her eyes? That seemed strange, because he knew that Lynn loved Reese. All three of their mothers were fond of them as a trio (even if frequently exasperated by their exploits) and from a young age they’d treated the other two points of the triangle as extended family. More than once he’d heard her smugly joking about never having daughter in law issues with her son’s choice of bride. It never occurred to him that she might be wary precisely because she adored her.

“Somehow we always manage,” he joked.

“So long as it doesn’t involve you starting another gambling ring in my house that’s fine,” she replied. Her tone was wry but affectionate. “I’ll be finishing up out back if you need me.”

Lynn gave Reese’s arm a quick rub and then disappeared. Reese for her part had a guilty smirk on her face after hearing that comment.

“You know, I really don’t understand how I always wind up getting blamed for your evil schemes,” Trace said with a shake of his head. “Is it just because you’re the girl? She still looks at me funny every time she sees me with a deck of cards.”

“What can I tell you?” She grinned, choosing to occupy a seat on the couch next to him. The awkwardness of ringing the doorbell and asking for admittance had dissipated with merciful speed. Another ten minutes at that rate and she’d be back to treating the place like she belonged there. “You got a criminal looking face.”

“What, and you’re supposed to be sugar and spice? Clearly these people don’t know what a deviant you really are.” He laughed as she picked up a throw pillow and playfully wacked him with it. “Gender stereotyping is an ugly thing.”

“It is. People really ought to know how much harder I can hit than you.”

“Hey, you’re not the only one Sam taught the left hook to.” It had been embarrassing at the time to ask a younger kid for tips, but that had paled in contrast to the embarrassment of being picked on by the school jackasses. One good punch and they’d never bothered him again. Sam had been paid in comics. “But we probably ought to just agree to disagree now because I doubt Lynn wants us having a boxing match in her front room either.”

“Yeah, yeah. Put it on Lynn. I know you’re just afraid of defeat.”

“Not that I’m not thrilled to have you here abusing me as usual,” he said, “but why are you here? I know you two called truce but I didn’t realise you were already having play dates.”

She glared at him for his use of the word ‘dates.’ “What, I can’t come say bye before he goes home?”

“Course you can. But you wouldn’t.”

“And yet here I am.”

“But you’re not here to simply say bye.” There was more glaring but he remained unperturbed. “Don’t give me that look, you know I’m right. You always did make the mistake of thinking that because I wasn’t the one dating you I can’t know just as much of your shit as he does.”

Reese folded her arms across her chest and propped her feet up on the coffee table, crossing one ankle over another. There was no way she was admitting it out loud but he was right. After the break up she had cut contact with him knowing that he would never cut contact with the dreaded ex - she hadn’t wanted to keep even that indirect connection - but the truth was he was as much her best friend as Nadine or Justin. It was indeed easy to forget that the romantic intimacy didn’t occupy as much separate ground as you might think. If Justin had known one hundred percent of her as her partner Trace had still known a good ninety and change as her friend.

The other reason she didn’t like to admit it was that she still felt she’d been wrong in her prior attitude to Trace. In order to justify herself to herself she had seriously minimised his role in her life. Cutting such a long standing companion loose was much easier if you acted like you’d never been that close anyway. She’d behaved like he was some hanger on of Justin’s and not a friend in his own right. Sometimes she’d acted like he was barely even a person in his own right, though he hadn’t been present to witness it. Shame plagued her but she couldn’t open her mouth to say so to him. She suspected he knew, but Trace was the kind of guy who would let you gloss over it so long as it meant things getting back to normal.

“Yeah. Have I mentioned I hate that about you?”

“I love you too. Seriously, what gives?”

“I, umm…” She dragged her teeth across her lower lip. “If I tell you something will you promise that you will not breathe a word of it to anybody at all? And I mean anybody?”

“Sure, I’ll pinky swear. What’s up?” The ominous tone was worrying him a little bit.

“Going back to LA kind of made me rethink my plans to stay here.”

“Oh?”

That didn’t shock him. He’d always thought the only reason Reese had run home was to avoid Justin. The ongoing animosity had prevented him ever saying so, but he thought the entire thing was one massive and ill thought out avoidance tactic.

“Yeah. So I called Sarah and asked her to put out some feelers for me - just to start information gathering, you know. I figured by the time anything came back it would be after the wedding and I’d have had some time to think about it and talk to Drake and make a more concrete plan.”

“Let me guess, something already came back.”

His brow was furrowed in a contemplative look. Two burning questions were pricking at the back of his head, though he wanted to hear the whole story before asking. Why was it a big secret and why was she here to talk to her ex-fiancé about it? He also had some thoughts about why she would be focused on this with a wedding next week, but they were mere background noise in comparison.

“When I spoke to her Sarah predicted that they’d have an opening in about a month’s time. Turns out the girl left way sooner than she thought and she mentioned me for the opening, so they called to invite me for interview. They’ve said if I can get there Monday they’ll consider me.”

“Ahh.” That answered one of his queries. “Well gee, who do I know with a charter plane that so happens to be going back to LA on Sunday…”

She was a little too tense to give him a real smile, but still the lips curled upwards as she gave him another gentle thump with the throw pillow.

“So you figured you’d ask JT if he’d mind extending his hospitality again and then fly back after the interview?”

“Yeah.”

Mulling over his next words, he rolled them around his brain before opening his mouth. Justin liked to joke he was incapable of thinking before speaking but he found it necessary when tackling touchy subjects with Reese. Justin had a way of managing to pull Reese back around to his perspective even if he’d pissed her off; Trace didn’t possess the same knack. As a result he found it best to take in depth chats with her slowly. He couldn’t afford to let his mouth run ahead of him; she was quite stubborn when it came to it and he found it easier to keep her on side than to win her back round.  If he said the wrong thing he got flustered and then didn’t know how to soothe the ruffled feathers.

“That’s quite somethin’, hon,” he said. “I had no idea you were even thinking of coming back, but you’re really all set to go and do this? And to stay with J again so soon after you made it up? I mean, don’t get me wrong, you know how frickin’ relieved I am that you two are working it out, but I didn’t think you’d be up for spending so much time together yet. Seems like a big ask.”

“A big ask?” Doubt clouded her face. “You think he’ll say no?”

“That’s not how I meant; I mean a big ask out of yourself.”

“Oh, I get you.” Her mouth twisted to one side, and she pulled at a strand of loose hair. “Not going to lie, I did wonder if it was a good idea, but if I want to go then I need to keep costs down and do it quietly.”

“And you do?”

“Yeah,” she nodded. “I mean, for all I know nothing will come of it or I might get there and decide that actually the reality isn’t what I pictured, but I feel like I need to try it.”

He nodded in understanding. Some people felt like they needed to have one last fling or a crazy blow out before they got married. Reese apparently needed to try a different life back on to make sure she really wanted the one she was about to buy. That seemed like a natural thing for anybody to feel right before they got married, even if most people wouldn’t take it quite so far.

“So why the secrecy?”

An involuntary shudder ran down her back. “Too many people to get their panties in a twist, either because of the job or because I’m asking Justin.” She was thinking specifically of Nadine when she added the last part.

“What does Drake think?”

“Drake…” She winced. “He’s in the former category.”

“You mean you’re not telling him? Babe.” He didn’t need to say anything else. One four letter word and its implied chastisement were enough.

“I know, I know.”

“Do you really think that’s a good idea? You are marrying the guy; he should know that you’re considering moving across the country. Isn’t he going to flip when he finds out you went so long before you discussed it with him?”

“If he finds out.”

Trace vehemently disagreed with the category change – he definitely considered it a ‘when.’ How was she planning to disappear for a day unnoticed at this stage in proceedings? Brides tended to be major features.

“This whole paparazzi thing has him really down on LA. Plus he’s got this irrational thing where he associates the bad shit that happened when he was younger with the city as opposed to how much better things are for him since he moved… I am going to talk to him about it, but now is not the moment. I need to let him forget the dumb press stuff for a minute first.”

“Please don’t bite my head off, but I think now is exactly the moment,” he argued. “There’s every chance they’ll want you – you won’t have time to lay groundwork or whatever you think you’re gonna do. They’ll want a decision and he’s not going to thank you for springing it on him.” Then he put on a mockingly chirpy tone. “And that’s before I factor in the part where the guy you’re using to facilitate this is your ex.”

“Believe it or not, I have considered all of that.”

The response that leapt to mind was ‘and yet you’re still going ahead with it,’ but he didn’t think sarcasm would be well received.

“Well, you got to do what you think is best for yourself, but just go careful alright?”

“Always.”

Reese tweaked his arm, giving him the ‘you know I love you’ face. She could tell that he still disapproved but she appreciated that it was out of concern. He wasn’t wrong, either, but she couldn’t put it into words to explain it to him. Her gut was overwhelmingly telling her that she needed to do this. Selfishly she wasn’t going to do anything that might potentially derail it, and she knew telling Drake might do so. Telling Nadine would definitely do so. As supportive as Nadine was of her wish to look into career options, any new ventures being tied back to a resurrected friendship with Justin would go down badly.

“Hey y’all!”

The familiar call came from the front room, signalling the return of the gentleman in question.

“That lazy ass awake yet?” Justin yelled. The volume was clearly designed to ensure that if he wasn’t he would be now.

Reese chuckled while Trace pulled a face of martyred suffering. “This is the gratitude I get for entertaining your guests.”

“Guests? Who…” He entered the room and the question became redundant before he’d finished it. “Oh, hey Reese.”

Justin’s face was almost an exact mirror of his mother’s. Trace had to work hard not to grin. “You need a hand with the bags?”

“Nah, I got it.”

It couldn’t have taken more than sixty seconds for him to disappear and reappear from the room. Reese assumed he’d dropped the bags in the kitchen.

“Hope there was nothing frozen in those,” she said. “You need to put stuff away?”

“Nah.”  Lazily he eased himself into the spare armchair. “So to what do I owe the visit?”

“If she tells you it’s just to say bye before you go, she’s lying. Hey!” The red pillow had been to the face that time, wielded with far more force. “Actually, she’s here to take extreme liberties with your fledgling new friendship. OWW!”

“Hey, I wouldn’t have hit him for that,” Justin said mildly. “Not with the mental strain it must have taken - didn’t think he knew words like fledgling.”

Trace glared at Justin and jabbed his middle finger in the air. “Blow me.”

“That’s more the usual standard.”

As amusing as this all was (it was a pretty typical exchange for the three of them), Reese was too jittery about asking for said liberties to laugh like she normally would. “Excusing Trace being a dumb ass as usual, he is actually right. I do have a big favour to ask.”

“Ah.” Justin smiled, both a little wary and a little triumphant. She was already asking for big favours out of him? This was distinct progress. “Well, you know me. Always ready to let you take all the liberties you want with me.”

Reese tried very hard not to take that as an intentional double entendre. Making sexual jokes was much too forward at the present time.

“Oh, so you noticed too that she always winds up getting her own way when she asks us for favours?”

He guffawed in response as Trace snatched away the pillow before Reese could swing it again. “Man, are you trying to get punched?”

“Actually we were discussing that earlier.”

“Ayala, if you value your limbs you’re going to stop being such a God damn smart ass and let me talk,” she threatened.

Justin settled back in his seat, continuing to grin. Any fear he had about what she might ask was vastly outweighed by the sheer glee at watching this little scene unfold. This was so normal and natural and exactly how things ought to be that he felt sure he must be glowing with self-satisfaction. He’d missed this, a lot.

So as it turned out it was a good time for her to ask, because in this state of mind he’d probably give her anything she wanted.

Guilt made her ignore the beeping phone. It might be Drake or it might be Nadine. It didn’t matter; the same creeping feeling of shame was upon her. She didn’t want to read any text messages hoping that she’d got there okay and was having a nice time. They’d only make it worse.

Instead Reese attempted to focus on the multiple browser windows she had open on her tablet. She was sitting on a lounge chair by Justin’s pool; in vain she’d hoped fresh air and quiet would help her concentrate. It didn’t. She was supposed to be last minute cramming for her interview. Instead her train of thought went back and forth between her career issues (Trace’s words had left their mark) and the big article that had finally hit the stands. Now it was all over the blogs too. She must have stared at the funeral picture for an hour straight, trying to recollect who had been sitting in the aisles behind them. The phone was one more distraction.

The messages came from people who thought that she ditched her bachelorette in order to take advantage of a spa certificate. Early present, she had lied, from the girls since they couldn’t make the party. She had further claimed that she was so stressed with the wedding and upheaval of the past week she needed to decompress alone. If the party had been bigger they might have questioned it, but since it was just Nadine and Jenna nobody thought it odd that she’d bailed. It was only supposed to be a few cocktails, nothing special, and apparently she’d seemed wound up enough to make the story plausible. People thought it understandable to cancel.

It had an underhanded stink that made Reese feel like a bad person. The thing that didn’t bother her (though it should) was how easily she got out of work yet again. They really didn’t seem to care whether she showed up or not. If she’d given it due consideration worry would have ensued, but Reese’s mind was firmly on other priorities.

The feeling of disgrace was compounded by Justin’s ready agreement. It felt manipulative. She knew how eager he was to regain brownie points; Reese understood how he operated. As excruciating as the hut talk was, she’d seen the truth in it. That was why she had eventually accepted his pleas for a truce – she believed and accepted his story – and it was also how despite her nerves she’d believed he’d help. She knew he’d do whatever favour she asked because he wanted more than a simple cessation of fighting; Justin wanted a deeper level of friendship back. Was she was taking advantage of that? She knew he wasn’t going to quibble over the morality of her lying to people at the expense of an opportunity to gain favour, especially people he didn’t like.

Reese was quibbling over it a lot but it was too late. It was done. She set up her lie, left early and met Justin at the airport. She had a ticket to return on Monday afternoon – Justin allowing her to tag along on the ride there even meant she could afford to book flexible in case her interview overran. It would be over within twenty four hours. Then she just had to worry about how to handle Drake if they wanted her. She didn’t truly think he’d object once he understood how much she needed it and that it didn’t mean they had to leave Shelby for  all time, but she did need to approach it right.

“Justin?” She called out as the sound of a sliding door broke her from her reverie. When she turned to the door she could see him approaching in a check shirt and jeans – all day he’d been in a t-shirt and cargo pants. When had he changed?

“That’s my name,” he replied as he approached. When he reached her chair he dropped a brown paper bag in front of her before sitting down himself.

Quizzically Reese looked at him. When she opened the bag and saw the distinctive striped cup she gave a delighted little gasp. “Oh my God I haven’t had this in forever!”

“Yeah well you needed to eat something, figured it’d help settle your stomach. Though how with that weird ass mix I will never know.”

She could have accused him of doing this too for the brownie points, but it was normal behaviour for him. Justin was very good at the thoughtful things, small favours that made you feel warm and fuzzy to be on the receiving end. On this occasion he’d gone out and got her ice cream from a favourite little place they used to go to. The flavour combination that disgusted him so was strawberry and lime.

“Thank you, that’s really sweet.” She yanked out the spoon and dug in greedily, previous loss of appetite forgotten.

Justin smiled to himself, watching her go for it. She’d refused dinner earlier saying she was too keyed up to eat – it was typical for her, stress affected her stomach. If she didn’t eat she’d regret it by morning though and he knew she’d need to be on her game. He’d figured it was a case of finding her something she’d like too much to pass up.

“So how’s the prep going?”

“Ugh.” She rolled her eyes, pulling her legs up and crossing them under herself. “It’s not, too much going on in my brain. Oh, and that article went live.”

“Come on, you know better than to read that bull.” He tutted at her.

“I just wanted to see the pictures, see if I could work out who might have taken it from the angle.”

Justin sighed before picking up her tablet. He unlocked it and pulled up her browser to see the article still open. Feeling dirty for even doing it, he began to read.

“Umm, how did you know my code?”

“You use the same code for everything,” he said.

Reese watched him reading as she ate. She couldn’t totally see the screen but she could see enough to work out where he was in the article – though his face gave it away anyway. When he read something untrue his nostrils flared and sharp little puffs of air exited them. When it got to a part he considered ridiculous a fierce scowl pulled his lips tighter together and made his nose crinkle. When he got to the pictures in question a blank stare settled over his features and she could no longer read his mood.

If she could have, she would have seen two warring thoughts fighting for supremacy. One was an attempt to remember who had been sitting a few rows behind and slightly to their right. The other was observing how the recent pictures looked at home amongst much older ones. They’d caught the moment when she was crying and he hugged her. The small mercy was that Reese’s face and her tears were well hidden from the lens, but Justin was on full display. He was gazing down at her, head bent over hers in a pose that made it look like he was about to kiss it. It lent an irritating air of credence to the text.

As he shifted in his seat, the tablet’s screen was no longer in Reese’s view. He pressed play on the video at the bottom of the article. It was a segment from some show talking about it (unbeknownst to either of them, the same one Drake had watched). Seeing the old footage of them together wasn’t helpful.

“So my agency was right, they think I’m pulling a Dustin Hoffmann,” he said. “Idiots.”

“You’ll have a tough time, I don’t think the church even has a viewing gallery,” Reese said. She could still hear the video and some of those quotes made her uncomfortable. It was another reason to be glad of the ice cream.

Of all the things she could have fixated on, what stuck with her was the quote about his songs. A lot of people assumed what was or wasn’t written about her (her mother certainly had a few ideas) but she had never wondered until now. Of course it crossed her mind but she’d never lingered on the idea. His debut album could be written off since they weren’t together then, but by the time work on the second had started they were.

“I’m looking at that picture and I got nothing,” he said.

“I don’t know, maybe it’ll come to us. Can you save a copy?”

Justin acquiesced – or at least he thought he had. He wasn’t brilliant with technology unless it was a mixing desk; he got by with the basics. He at least knew how to go to the roll of pictures and check it had saved, but quickly wished he hadn’t. When you glimpsed pictures of your ex-fiancée trying on a wedding dress it didn’t matter how loud your brain yelled that it was a terrible idea to look closer. The curiosity would get you every time.

Her hair was back in a casual ponytail that was incongruous with the dress, as were the clips that helped the seamstress gather the excess in. The corseted fishtail was miles away from what he’d pictured her in but she did, of course, look lovely. Why the hell had he opened the damn thing again? Hastily he got rid of it before tossing the tablet aside.

“I can’t tell how far back they might have been,” Justin mused, pressing the pads of his fingertips together. “If it was a lot of zoom the picture would be grainier, but there could still be some.”

“It’s an annoyingly good shot, huh?”

“Yep. Lord knows how much they got for it.”

“Guess being an asshole once again pays,” she said. Still the question bugged her, and it slipped out before she could stop it. “So you never wrote a song about me?”

His head swivelled round to look at her, his scowl slowly being replaced by a grin. It was a little cocky but it was an improvement. It lessened some of the harsh lines that appeared on his forehead when he frowned.

“That’s what you took from that?”

“It never really occurred to me before.” Her cheeks gained a touch of pink. “I’m just being random, it doesn’t matter.”

“Well, it’s like I said,” he replied. “I didn’t sit down and purposely write about you but you probably got in a few places.”

There was a smidgen of pretence in that. It was true on the whole, but he had written a specific song about being unable to wait to start the honeymoon and be within the security of marriage. It wasn’t one of his more romantic tunes – in parts it was kind of dirty – but there was a serious undertone. At the time he’d thought she might be put out that she got a naughty one rather than a straightforward love song, so he hadn’t told her. Now it was too close to the bone to tell her.

Justin decided not to dwell on why she was asking, and moved the conversation along.

“So you really didn’t get any work done at all?”

“Enough to BS my way through” she sighed. “But I’ve given up. I just… you know what, I’m sick of it. I’ve been worrying about the wedding, and then you coming home, and then the funeral, and now this.” She emitted a derisive snort. “I have nothing left to give.”

Justin licked his lips, looking at her contemplatively. “Bennington bender aside…”

“I’ve told you not to call them that.”

“Like it’s inaccurate.” He stuck his tongue out and was pleased to see it elicit a smile. “Anyway, when’s the last time you had some fun?”

“Umm… Ollie and I taught Will a few choice phrases, that’s about it.”

“Because he won’t have picked that up naturally from Daddy, only man I ever met who could cuss to make Trace blush?”

“Not talking about swearing.”

Justin was intrigued but didn’t press it. “Whatever it is sounds like Dean’s gonna murder you when he realises. Anyway, point is I think tonight you should forget about all that shit and we should do something fun. Sometimes you get to a stage where relaxing and clearing your mind is much better prep than… well, prep.”

“Do what?” She asked. “We can’t go anywhere in case we’re seen together.” They’d even had to take separate cars from the airport. Justin was picked up and she found a taxi like a regular tourist. She kept a beady eye out but didn’t spot any paparazzi. “And I can’t drink if I want to be with it tomorrow.”

“What, because we don’t have ten tons of shit in this house?” He didn’t notice his out of date pronoun. “We could swim, shoot hoops, I’ll drag the four wheelers out, whatever. I don’t care what it is; you just really look like you need to relax.”

What he could have added was that he also wanted a real hang out session before she went - another building block in their reconciliation. The good thing about making up was that with such a long history behind them, now the process was started he expected it to flow rapidly. It was such second nature to be on good terms that he was relying on sheer force of habit to help drive them back towards their prior closeness. Reese was already comfortable enough again to express worries, to ask favours and voluntarily spend time with him. She’d defended him to Nadine. It wasn’t ‘best buddies since childhood’ behaviour yet but it was a decent basis – ‘friends for a few years’ level, maybe. They were on their way.

That said, almost all conversation lately had been about serious matters. Justin thought it high time to step back from the drama and remind her that they enjoyed each other’s company.

“We could play poker.” She fought back a smirk.

“Not falling for that ever again,” he said. “Trace ain’t the only still sore from that one. Horse?”

“Like I have a hope in Hell against you on a basketball court.”

“Well you’ve still got bathing suits and stuff in the closet, I could set up the net and we could play volleyball?” He was purposely suggesting physical activity because she was giving off nervous energy that could do with an outlet. Reese didn’t need to know that.

“Okay, okay.” Reese could see she wasn’t going to deter him. Maybe he had a point. “Set it up, I‘ll go change.”

**

“Oh my God…” Reese cackled, putting a dripping hand to her mouth to try and hold back the hysteria. “You are such a freakin’ incompetent.”

Her last shot had gone wide. Justin dived sideways for the ball and came so close to smacking his head against the tiles that he felt them brush his hair. For a second he’d thought he had. He leapt back up yelling as if he had before he realised that he was uninjured.

“Glad you find it so funny that I nearly cracked my skull open,” he muttered. “It’s not my fault you can’t aim!”

“Hey, the ball landed in the pool didn’t it? Where you couldn’t get it, just like I planned. Point to me!”

“Yeah, yeah. Like that was a purposeful shot.”

“Some things never change. You are such a sore loser Timberlake.”

“Well you’re a hyper-competitive freak. Besides, I still got time to turn this around.”

“One point, I need. One point.” She raised her index finger to him.

“Just serve the damn ball.”

She did so, and while Justin was being a little more forceful with his spikes than strictly needed they got a decent rhythm going. Despite the trash talk neither of them was great shakes at this. That probably made it a better bet than the basketball, where Reese was hopelessly outgunned. Having four brothers the stereotype might be that she was a tomboy and as into sports as they were, but she wasn’t that bothered. She liked to watch the occasional basketball or baseball game. She definitely enjoyed seeing Clark play football, but she’d never been much of an athlete. Justin however was very well practised at basketball and thus accomplished; pitting him against her was like pitting a toy poodle against Attila the Hun. Since they were equally mediocre at this it made for a fair match.

Reese managed to make the ball go wide again, but this time it barely scraped the side of the ledge before hitting the water.

“Yes!” They both cried and threw their hands up at the same time.

“Uhh, why are you celebrating when I just won?”

“That was out of bounds.”

“Was not!” She exclaimed, striding to the net. “It landed in the pool!”

“But it hit the paving first!” Justin countered, meeting her there and folding his arms across his chest. Reese’s eye was momentarily caught by the way his biceps flexed.

“Still on this side within bounds, so it’s still in.”

“No, it has to hit the water first or it doesn’t count. It hit the side first, so it’s out.”

“You are such a sore loser!” She repeated.

“I’ll be nice and void my point, just ‘cause it’s you, but you still ain’t won yet.”

Reese’s response was to smack her arm into the water, sending it flying at his face. A good deal of it went up his nostrils. For a moment all he could do was stand there and splutter, arms still folded. He shook his head and snorted through his nose, trying to get it out, before smoothing the excess out of his hair. A grim, steely look settled over his face.

“Don’t start what you can’t finish.”

“And what you gon’ do about it, tough guy? You already lost.”

Without another word Justin had ducked under the net and seized Reese around the middle. She let out yells of protest, beating her fists against him, but he lifted her up and unceremoniously tossed her back in the water. Her body fell in an ungainly heap. When Reese emerged, spluttering just the way he had, her hazel eyes bore an evil glint. She went to give him another chlorine facial but he was too quick, grabbing her waist again and pinning her arms down for good measure. They wrestled and squirmed, both managing at various points to dunk each other, but neither was really winning. He had the strength advantage but being smaller she could wriggle free more easily.

The air rang with yells and laughter. Justin felt a giddy contentment. This was exactly what he’d been after, a plain old good time with his best friend.

It was going wonderfully well until he managed to win the fight. He’d got her into a good lock. On realising that resistance was futile Reese stopped struggling, and for a few seconds they were standing still in the water. Pressed against each other like that the mood was no longer playful for him. His cheek was agonisingly close to hers; if he so much as turned his head his lips would be on her jaw. For the first time that evening it occurred to him that she was wearing a black bikini. It wasn’t revealing but still as much as he’d seen of her in a long time. A good deal of their skin was in contact. If she hadn’t been doused in chlorine water he would have caught the white gardenia scent of her perfume. She was right there, right next to him, and all he would have to do was turn his face.

Reese was not unaffected. She was acutely aware of the familiar frame behind her even though she had her back to it. It was a contradictory feeling, both attraction and repulsion. On the one hand she was ill at ease. On the other it was like putting a soft, well worn-in pair of gloves back on. Somehow her body instinctively knew how it fit against his even as it was rebelling against his touch. That was disconcerting.

“Okay, I give. You win,” she said.

Wordlessly Justin released her, trying to rearrange his nervous face into a more suitably victorious expression. He needed to pretend that hadn’t happened. “I win, I win! What do I win?”

“Bragging rights.”

“That’s it? Oh well, that’ll do.” He rushed on before she could ask exactly what it was he expected as a prize. “Geez, when did it get so dark out here?”

The pool area was so well lit that he hadn’t noticed the darkness setting in. It had still been early evening when they’d started. It was now night proper and even a few stars were winking out from behind the clouds. Lord only knew what time it was.

Reese looked upwards. “I hadn’t even noticed. Hey, you remember how pissed we used to get when we sneaked out with Sam’s telescope on a night like this? Lugged the damn thing all the way up the hill before we thought to check if we’d even be able to find anything?” It was no coincidence that she mentioned a pre-romance point in their history.

“Heh, like we could have found anything with it either way,” Justin said without thinking. In the next second he froze, remembering when Reese had said something very similar to him. Said on any other occasion it never would have stuck in his memory, but that moment had been significant to say the least.

“I believe that was my line.” Her smile was strained – so much for a platonic recollection. “I need to get showered; it’s probably bed time already. Think we were out here longer than we meant to be.”

“Sure, sure. I’ll pack this up and… yeah. Night, Reese.”

“Night.”

With more speed than grace she hauled herself out of the pool. She grabbed a towel and walked at a slightly indecent pace into the house. Justin stood motionless in the water, unsure how much damage that uncomfortable clinch might have done to an otherwise excellent evening.

Justin was trying to work out whether the deathly silence was because of the previous evening or the impending job interview. It was of course possible that it was both. Or maybe thinking the previous evening would be a factor was giving himself too much credit.

Whatever the cause, Reese had padded downstairs in her t-shirt and sweatpants in silence. She proceeded to help herself to coffee and cereal without a single word spoken. His presence had been acknowledged with a brief nod. The rest of the time she was flicking through things on her tablet. The last minute cramming seemed to have resumed. She was hunched over the table, backlit by the daylight streaming through the bay doors behind her, and he didn’t think he’d ever seen anybody look so intent before. If a mariachi band had marched on through she might not have noticed.

The kitchen was one of the few areas of the house where he’d masterminded the design as opposed to her. That wasn’t to say he’d been uninvolved or that she’d imposed her taste on him in the other rooms, but they’d all been based on things she’d found or ideas she’d had. This room was all Justin. Reese simply looked at the brochures and nodded her agreement. Everything was very clean and modern, white tiles and a slate coloured floor. Marble counter tops gleamed, and little cluttered the surfaces. His mother joked that you needed a schematic just to find a cupboard, there was clever yet unobtrusive storage tucked into every available corner. The only thing his bride to be picked was the oak table; she’d said the room needed warming up. Seeing her sitting at it now, Justin had to wonder whether a piece of furniture could perform that task.

For a while he left her to it. Being prone to the same single-minded focus himself, he understood that interruptions needed to be necessary and brief. (Usually he disappeared into his basement studio for that – when they’d lived together there was an unspoken agreement that if he went down there she wouldn’t disturb him). Eventually however he had to. He needed some idea of what if any further part she expected him to play.

“Reese?”

“Uh huh?” She glanced up at him only briefly, just long enough to indicate her attention.

“How you planning to get there? And then to the airport after?”

“I booked a taxi,” she said. “Least conspicuous for me to leave here. My girl Lucy’s still on reception and she said she’d babysit my stuff for me while I go in. I’ll go straight to LAX from there.”

“Oh, okay.” Illogically he’d imagined them sitting down to chat over it afterwards, dissect how it went. Perhaps it was still a little early to expect that kind of thing. At least he felt better now – she was much too breezy for her silence to have been about the previous evening. “What time you got to go?”

She checked the clock. “Interview’s at eleven. How about you, what’s your plan for the day?”

“Laundry and conference calls. Exciting, I know.”

“Superstardom just gets more glamorous.” Her eyes moved towards him again and she smiled. Finally she turned off her tablet and sat up properly. There was little else she could do now; she needed to get ready soon anyway.

“How you doing?” He asked as he continued spooning his cereal up. He preferred to eat his leaning against the counter – she’d always told him it was strange. “Nervous?”

“Yeah. Not bad nervous, just jitters. Honestly, I’m less worried about the interview and more about what’s going to happen if they give me it.”

“Uhh… you take it, presumably.” Justin looked at her critically, trying to read her body language. “Isn’t that why you even interview for a job?”

“I want to, obviously, but it’s a little more complicated than that. This happened so fast I’ve barely had time to think about moving and giving notice and everything, and working around the honeymoon arrangements. Plus I have somebody else who gets a say and Drake’s not keen on LA. He prefers the vibe of a small town.”

“Big surprise.”

It wasn’t hard to read her body language now. Reese was incensed. She’d tossed her hair back, hands folding tightly together on the table top, and she was glowering at him. Inwardly he was beating himself around the head for the comment. It was knee jerk sarcasm and it had come out on impulse. The words fell out so quick he hadn’t had a chance to phrase it with some diplomacy.

“Meaning?”

There was a sharp edge to that comment and every chance he could slice himself on it. He wracked his brain, trying to come up with something to get him out of the hole.

“I only mean that Drake…” He trailed off, searching for the next words.

“Drake what? Please, do tell me all about my fiancé that you spent three whole minutes with.”

It was hard not to shrink back, but if he did she’d take it as a tacit admission of guilt. “Just an observation, but Drake seems like a small town kind of guy.”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing bad! Small town people are our roots, Reese, that’s what we come out of.” He allowed himself a mental high five for throwing that in. It was designed to appease her, lessen any idea that he’d been taking a shot. Judging from the slight softening of her jaw it was working. (He had of course been taking a shot, but fortunately for him Reese misconstrued it. It was aimed at her rash decision to marry an obviously unsuitable guy and not at the inhabitants of small towns). “Happy to work local and raise a family and stay close to home. Like, I could see him running his own garage some day.”

Reese couldn’t disagree with that assessment. She was almost irritated by it because it was shrewd for somebody who’d barely met Drake. “And what’s wrong with that?”

“Like I said - not a thing. We know a lot of great people like that.”

“And yet you make it sound like a friggin’ crime.”

“Reese, it’s not that there’s anything wrong with it, it’s just not what you ever wanted. You, me, Trace, none of us did. Like, I’m really not surprised that you’re here for this interview. You’ve got things you want to do that aren’t going to happen in Shelby, you’re not ready to settle.”

“Who says? You just prefer to think I’m not ready to settle because then us not getting married wasn’t about you, it was about me.”

Justin breathed in sharply, holding onto it a second or two before letting it out. That was a low blow and it landed on target. His first instinct was to let rip, but his brain was screaming out reminders of where that had been getting him in the past few months. No. He had to breathe in and out a couple more times. Even if it killed him, he needed to formulate an adult response to this.

“I’m not talking about getting married. You can be married and still moving around and working on your career. That was what you and I always planned before we broke up, right? Few years doing what we wanted and then doing the family part? Nothing to stop anybody getting hitched and doing that.”

That one hit Reese hard. Electricity crackled painfully up and down her spine. Was that what they’d planned? She’d always thought he wanted to get married and launch into starting a family. When he’d talked about it he’d always waxed lyrical about their future. As she mentally flicked through a dozen conversations, however, she started to realise that he’d never vocalised a time frame. She’d simply assumed he meant an immediate start because he’d sounded so enthused. Reese had wanted exactly the same things, but not with the haste she’d mistakenly believed he did. She wasn’t sure why this little miscommunication bothered her so much but a gnawing feeling was in her stomach.  

“All I meant was that I think you and Drake have different outlooks on it, so it doesn’t surprise me when you say he might need convincing. I’m sorry if it came out badly.”

“No, no.” She shook her head. “Don’t be. That was a fair comment. It’s me; I’m oversensitive because I’m nervous.”

“Well… maybe you’re oversensitive because a month or so ago I would’ve been saying it to be an ass.”

That was another killer move and another mental high five. This time an actual giggle escaped as she looked down at her empty bowl. The self-deprecation seemed to do the trick. “Wow. He admits it.”

“See, I can grow.”

She unfolded her hands, propping her elbow on the table and resting her cheek in her palm. That was when he knew he’d saved it. Her face relaxed.

“You really were an ass, you know.”

“Thanks for the reminder.” He grimaced.

“Lucky for you, you got near enough thirty years of good behaviour to even it out.”

That was probably the most significant thing she’d said in terms of their recovery, and Justin did not take it at all lightly. A rueful voice in the back of his mind noted how little bad behaviour it took to nearly cancel all of that out.

“You’ve known I was an idiot since you met me, lucky for me you and T stick with me anyway,” he said, trying his luck with the present tense. “I’m an asshole but I’m your asshole. And wow that came out wrong.”

Reese creased up laughing. For a moment she couldn’t control it or draw enough breath in to speak. “You are so lucky Trace wasn’t present for that.”

He rubbed at his eyes, shoulders shaking with suppressed chuckles. “They just shouldn’t let me talk.”

“No disagreement here. And on that note, I’m going to go shower.”

“There’s no chance you’re going to forget I said that, is there?”

“None whatsoever.”

“You realise if you tell Trace you’re handing him a weapon?”

“You best be real nice to me then.”

**

Some people might have accused Justin of never being happy (namely Trace, if he’d been there). Instead of being pleased that he’d had another good moment with Reese, he was moping. Wasn’t he ever satisfied? Wasn’t it exactly what he had wanted? He’d been desperate to have some normal times with his peanut again. He’d had them. A bit of early morning silliness at the breakfast table should have been nothing but good.

The problem was that after she’d disappeared into the guest bathroom it hit him that this was the last of it. There would be no more breakfast table shenanigans. Maybe for the last twenty four hours he’d been able to pretend that nothing was changing, but the reality was a seismic shift. She really was going back to Memphis after this. The next time he saw her, she would be married. Her last name would not be Timberlake.

Foolishly, he’d somehow managed to associate himself with Los Angeles. In the same way he originally took her moving away as a wholesale rejection, now some idiot part of his brain had seen her sudden eagerness to move back as a reconnection. That delusion was easy to keep up when it coincided with a thawing in their relationship, but it was still a fantasy. They may have been based in LA for all of their courtship (at first separately but then eventually moving in together) but that didn’t mean she couldn’t live there without him. It didn’t mean that she couldn’t live there with somebody else.

Reese appeared to be finding herself again. That didn’t mean she would rediscover Justin.

Now the cheerful scene he’d been so eager to recapture was underlining what he no longer had. What he still wanted was to come downstairs every morning and eat his cereal at the counter while she resolutely sat at the table and refused to ‘condone the oddity’ by joining him. When she finished some important meeting at work he wanted her to walk back in the door to discuss it with him. He wanted to watch her laughing at him not with him when he said dumb things. That wasn’t on offer any more and the finality was brutal. So instead of being happy that she readily accepted his friendship, as he’d wished, he was buckling under the disappointment. His limbs were heavy, he felt sluggish and weary lines were aging his face. Lord only knew how he was going to concentrate on his calls later.

Reese had walked out over a year ago. It seemed incredible that it should only now hit him that it was over. The wedding wasn’t brand new information. It wasn’t like he hadn’t known she’d got a new boyfriend. He’d known she was engaged almost as soon as it happened. His mother had broken that to him fast (to spare him hearing on the grapevine). There had been ample time available to process this. Hell, for most of that time Reese cut him dead or only spoke to him in order to exchange insults. How could he only just be getting the message that they were done?

What ridiculous part of his brain had thought she’d be back after he’d hurt her so badly?

When he heard her moving around in the entrance hall Justin’s feet took him there on auto-pilot. He leaned against the door frame, watching her as she rummaged through her bags. Then she checked her face in the mirror that hung over the side table.

“Oh hey,” she said when she caught him in her peripheral. “Taxi’s here.”

“Okay.”

Reese’s eyebrows knitted together. She wasn’t sure what the monotone or the bloodless expression was about. She didn’t have time to worry about it though, as she was doing a last minute check of her satchel. Most of her things were in her holdall but she needed to make sure she had her résumé and everything else she needed to hand.

Watching her made it worse. Besides the bag at her feet, this was the usual routine all over. This was what she did every morning before work. She’d check she had everything, give her appearance a last once over and then give him a quick kiss before heading out. The way she moved was so familiar that he could have mimicked her perfectly. The brunette hair was pulled back into a sleek bun at the nape of her neck; the shift dress and blazer were crisp and professional. How she walked in those heels he didn’t understand but when she walked it was brisk and like she had somewhere to be.

This wasn’t the woman who’d run back home and got engaged to some other guy. This was his other half. For what felt like the first time in a long time he was looking at his Reese. And this would be the last time she was his Reese.

“So… wish me luck!” She turned to him with a nervous but bright smile.

“You’ll do great.”

Her face fell a little, confusion pulling it into a frown. Why did he make it sound so morose? The previous night he’d seemed all for stretching her wings.

“Thanks,” she said. “And thanks for everything, I really couldn’t have done this without your help. It’s nice to feel like you have my back again.”

“Sure, no problem.”

The robotic response rankled. How was it that only fifteen seconds ago she felt so great and now that had evaporated?

“Well. Bye then.”

“Bye.”

Okay, so she couldn’t expect him to wish her luck with the wedding. But couldn’t he at least wish her a safe trip? Say he’d see her next time she was in LA or he was home? He’d text her sometime? All she was going to get after all his pushing for her to resume talking to him again was this flat farewell? Without another word she picked the bag up and turned on her heel, marching straight out of the door to the waiting taxi and not looking back.

With the sound of the door closing Justin snapped back from the out of body experience he was having.  He began to loudly and viciously cuss at himself for the look on Reese’s face. Of all the times to turn into an unfeeling automaton he picked the moment that she needed encouragement? No wonder she didn’t love him any more.

When Reese walked down the street and through those glass doors, it was with intention. Her heels clicked a rapid staccato against the sidewalk and then the marble floor. People passing by had barely been clocked in her peripheral, so focused was she on the moments ahead.

Now it was done. She wasn’t sure what she’d expected to feel, only knew this wasn’t it. The sun was just as warm as earlier, the sky just as clear, but now instead of striding out like a woman in charge she was meandering. The heels were swapped for comfortable pumps. Her bag swung slightly at the end of her arm as she peered all around herself. She was noticing people and buildings. The interview hadn’t gone badly yet still ‘we’ll be in touch’ felt like an anti-climax.

Maybe it was reality hitting her. To the naked eye Trace Ayala might not look like much of a sage but he frequently made a good point. She was in trouble. There was little doubt in her mind that she wanted the job if it was hers, but did she want it enough to override Drake if he objected? In the harsh light of day she was less certain that he’d be amenable. By the end of the week another human being would have equal say over her life choices and she wasn’t sure they were on the same track. That was worrying.

It would almost be better if they turned her down. At least that would take the decision out of her hands.

What was the matter with her? A few short weeks ago she’d been scoffing at the idea of employment and telling Jenna that she wanted to follow in her footsteps. Standing in the busy hustle of a Los Angeles street that seemed absurd. The sharp corners, the gleam of glossy wooden desks, the concentrated buzz in the air, even walking into the office was energising. It was like shooting whiskey, it hit the back of her throat with a sharp tingle that promised things to come. Everything she and Drake had planned felt much further away. Not gone, but one for the road ahead.

Reese wondered if Nadine had been right. Maybe she had been rash when she moved back to Tennessee. Maybe it was hiding. Despite all this hopping back and forth she’d been doing between the two places in the past week, the distance felt impossible to navigate.

You thought of the devil and she called your phone – she could tell by the ringtone. Nadine was of course another person she’d lied to.

“Hey.”

“Hey you! I thought we’d have heard from you by now, got a little worried. When we expecting you back?”

Horror struck, Reese’s teeth dug into her bottom lip. If her hands weren’t already full they would have flown to her mouth. “Oh shit.”

“Don’t tell me you forgot… how? What did they do, drug the air in the steam room?”

Nadine sounded astonished and she couldn’t be blamed. Forgetting that she was supposed to have her final dress fitting this afternoon was an enormous flub for a bride to be. That went double for one who’d been as much of a stickler as Reese Bennington-soon-to-be-Turner. It really should have been factored into her little secret mission.

“I’m sorry, I got completely distracted.”

“No need to apologise to me, it’s your own hide on the line,” Nadine said. “I can still pick it up but she already told us she didn’t have any more time this week, so if it’s uneven or whatever you’re living with it.”

That was one small mercy – the only alteration that had been left to do after the last fitting was to take up the hem a little. She doubted it could have gone too badly wrong. The more complicated pieces were long since complete. Even so, she was muttering obscenities at herself under her breath. What was wrong with her? How could she have forgotten something so important?

“Thanks, hon, I owe you,” she said. It was an automatic reaction; her mind was disconnected.

“Yeah, yeah, your debt’s pretty sizable by now. Seriously, sweetie, you got me worried here. You’ve been weird all week, you disappear to hide at a spa because you’re so stressed, and now you go from Perfectionist of the Year to forgetting a major appointment? And by the way, you’re clearly not at a spa any more because I hear traffic. What’s going on?”

“I… I…”

“What?!”

If she had ever wondered what Wile.E.Coyote felt like when he smacked into that false tunnel, this must have been it.

“I have to go. I’ll see you later.”

“What? No!”

Her pleas went unheeded. Reese had already hung up and was throwing her arm out to hail a taxi.

**

“So what’s your initial reaction?”

Justin leaned back in his chair, scratching at the back of his head.

“I don’t know. I mean, you know I like doing those size shows, but it feels a little surplus to requirements.  What have I got to promote?”

“I wouldn’t look at it in terms of promotion,” his manager replied. “I’d look at it more as a little prestige thing and what a big deal it is to be asked, or just keeping things warm with the fans without committing to new music. Plus it opens up avenues to have them sponsor us in future.”

“Hmm.” He twisted back and forth in his seat. Pretty much the only reason he had an office was as an excuse for this big black leather chair. Maybe some part of him wanted to be a tycoon. “I’m not sure, Johnny. I was actually leaning more towards reviewing some scripts and looking at a movie.”

“Well you don’t have to decide right now, so if you want to think on it that’s fine. I don’t need to give them an answer for another couple of days.”

“Yeah, I think I will.”

“Alright, so if that’s everything then…”

“Sorry Johnny but I got to run, someone’s at the door.”

“No problem, talk to you soon.”

“Thanks, bye.”

The doorbell rang again before he’d even left the room.

“Alright, I’m coming,” he grumbled. He resented the visitor. The plan was always to have a quiet day today, sorting out the domestic things that had piled up since he’d been gone and taking some business calls. That plan looked even better now Reese was gone. Alone time was in order and uninvited guests were not part of the deal.

Did the deal change if it was Reese standing on his doorstep? When he saw her his mouth fell open, giving him a gormless look. She was breathing deep, her shoulders rising and falling with each breath. There was a harried and agitated air about her, a wild gleam in her eye. The hair that had been so precisely pinned back now fell messily around her face.

“What’s wrong?” A greeting seemed unnecessary, so he dispensed with it.

“I don’t know what I’m doing here.”

Justin was dumbfounded for a moment. “Huh? You surprised me on my doorstep to ask me why you surprised me on my doorstep?”

“No, no… I mean, I…” She was shaking her head in an odd weaving motion. Her face screwed up in confusion. “Here. I don’t know what I’m doing here. Or what I’m doing at all. I disappeared to the other side of the country with my ex-boyfriend and I didn’t tell anyone and why the hell did I do that?”

All he could do was freeze. Knowing somebody for so long made it tough for them to surprise you, but this was certainly unexpected. In her own subtle way Reese was quite a powerful personality. She was intelligent, authoritative and careful (though not without a devilish streak). Those qualities made her the kind of person who formed a plan and executed it with drive and competence. Her choices were not typically random or impulsive. So when she turned up looking lost and bewildered with no idea which way was up it was alarming.

Finally some sense snapped into him and he pulled her inside – it was unlikely but not unheard of for paparazzi and their zoom lenses to get inside the complex. Unthinkingly she dropped the bags and then turned to look up at him again. Hazel eyes beseeched him to answer her questions for her. She didn’t appear to see any more need for opening small talk than he did.

“I was supposed to be getting fitted for my wedding dress today,” she said. Hearing it was unpleasant for Justin, but he tried not to react. “I totally forgot. I’m supposed to be back home, getting ready for a wedding and all of it and instead I’m in LA taking secret meetings and hanging out with you, not thinking about any of that. Why?”

“How am I supposed to know?”

Though he tried to be as gentle as possible it was hard to keep exasperation out of his voice. He’d already been on edge most of the day on her account, and she wasn’t making sense.

“If you don’t who will?” Her hand went to her forehead, which she rubbed in fretful circles. “I need advice and you know me better than anybody, so if you don’t get this nobody will.”

Justin folded his arms tightly across his chest, lips pursing together. Was this woman determined to kill him? That was the only explanation he saw for the emotional uppercuts she’d been landing all day long. Surely nobody could be this on point inadvertently?

“You know, peanut, sometimes I think that’s exactly our God damn problem,” he said with a bitter tang. They hadn’t even moved away from the front door.

“What?” She was breathy, disoriented.

“You and me know each other better than anybody and it makes us forget that we still can’t know everything. We’re not psychic, some shit we still have to open our mouths and speak.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning how am I supposed to know what’s going on in your head if you don’t tell me? I don’t know why you’re here. I don’t know why you’ve done anything… in about a fucking year,” he spat out. “I don’t know why you didn’t want to marry me, I don’t know why you abandoned LA to go home and play housewife, and I don’t know why you’re suddenly doing another one eighty back the other way. I would love to though so please, tell me! I would fuckin’ love to understand!”

“God you are such an ASSHOLE!” She threw her hands up. At least it seemed to have yanked her back into the moment. “Do you have any idea how hard it was for me to come to you for help after this past year? You wanted my friendship back, well now you got it and I need you. And within seconds of me begging for your support you’re being an ass to me? What is that?”

“What, you thought you could just waltz out, then spring yourself on me again rambling like a crazy person, and I’d just be all cool and calm and read your mind? Well sorry if it makes me an asshole but you’re confusing the crap out of me!”

“Waltzing out? What do you mean waltzing? God, is that why you were so frickin’ weird with me this morning? Which, by the way, really hurt my feelings.”

“Well you leaving hurt mine, so…” Something about those words flipped an internal off switch. In a blink his temper died as quickly as it had flared; now he was overcome with embarrassment. The heat of the blush was creeping up the back of his neck, and he’d bet it was visible in his cheeks too.

“You are unbelievable. Unbelievable! Just when I think things are settling back down you pull the Jekyll -Hyde act on me again!” It was maddening. One moment he was rude, the next sweet, she couldn’t keep up. “GOD, these days I don’t know if I want to slap you or…” The sentence ended abruptly.

“Or what?”

There was a continuation but Reese was having a hard time with it. She couldn’t deny it (it was her brain, after all, she knew what she’d been about to say) but panic raced through her. If it was true she’d answered her own question, at least, but the repercussions were frightening. It didn’t make sense either. She’d felt and done things in the past year that simply didn’t tally with it.  

“Did the interview just go badly?” Justin was trying to calm down and get away from whatever this subtext was. It seemed to him the topic at hand wasn’t what they were really fighting about, but he couldn’t decipher that. “Did you just freak out and come back here because you’re worried?”

“No, no.” She wrung her hands, her own anger similarly cowed by her internal wrangling. “I think it went okay, they should consider me. I handled the awkward questions anyway.”

“Look, we’re being ridiculous squabbling by the front door like this,” he said. “Let’s just go inside and chill out for a second.”

Reese acquiesced, abandoning her bags and following him through into the sitting room. Neither of them sat down, both hanging nervously by the back of the couch. They wore identical expressions of shame.

“You wanna try this again?” He asked. A distant beep announced that a laundry load was done, but it could wait.

“I’m sorry.” Tears sprang to her eyes, but she successfully blinked them back. “Guess I really do sound like a crazy person rambling like this.”

“No. You’re right – you need help I’m supposed to be here for it, crazy or not.”

“I don’t know what’s going on with me. One minute everything’s fine and the next I seem to be having the world’s most crappily timed early mid-life crisis.”

“Is this wedding jitters?” It took everything in him to get that out and get it out neutrally. “It’d be natural.”

“Maybe. I’m not sure, it feels bigger than that.” She bit the inside of her cheek, and one hand unconsciously reached out to the back of the couch to steady herself. “I don’t know any more. I’m just starting to feel like maybe I made a mistake that I don’t know how to fix, and I can’t talk to anybody else about it.”

A spiteful little voice in the back of his head was marking a point scored against the mechanic, but once again he had to control his baser impulses. This whole saga really had brought out some of his less commendable qualities.

“What mistake?”

“You were right,” she said, eyes glittering again. “I left everything. I had some stupid knee jerk reaction because I was mad at you and now I want my life back, except it’s not that simple because I made other plans in the meantime and I can’t turn my back on them. Yet witness me, making futile attempts to run both at the same time.”

“Well…” Now there were several different thoughts wrestling in his brain, some trying to be selfish and others trying to be impartial. They were all so mixed up working out his real opinion was tricky. “Seems to me like it is that simple, peanut. If what you really wanted was my advice as the person who’s known you this long? You ought to be here, doing what you were doing, because it fired you up and even this morning I could see it firing you back up. I know you’re worried about what he’ll say and I won’t lie and say there’s no need, but if he loves you he’ll see you got to do this.”

“You didn’t though, did you?” She said in a trembling voice. It wasn’t accusatory or taking a shot. It was fearful. “And look how that turned out.”

“Actually I did see, which ironically is why it happened,” he said in clipped tones. “I kept agreeing to put off the wedding and not telling you how I felt because I wanted you to be happy. Like I said, I somehow expected you to know what I was thinking and magically see that I couldn’t take another setback without me telling you, because you do know me so well, and then I did something I’m going to regret forever.”

“God.” Reese had a lightning bolt moment. “That’s it.”

“What?”

“This is the same thing all over again.”

“Huh?”

Justin did not appreciate being likened to her latest fiancé. For one thing, he flattered himself that she would never sneak around if it was him. When she thought he wouldn’t like her plans she climbed onto his lap and tried to sweet talk him, she didn’t forge ahead without him.

“I have a guy who wants to marry me and settle down and have kids with me, all anybody could want, and everything’s about to fall apart because I got other ideas. So what do I do? High tail it in the other direction. I did it to you, now I’m doing it to Drake… God, what is wrong with me?” She clutched at her scalp, tugging on a handful of hair.

Justin grabbed at her wrist, partially to stop her yanking out any hair but mostly because of her words. He felt like his heart might stop. “Are you telling me that you kept dodging the date because you thought I wanted you to just start popping out kids as soon as we got married?”

“I guess I am.”

“No, Reese, no…”

She didn’t heed his words; she was simply looking into his stricken blue eyes while her face crumpled. Only as she said it did she realise it. Nadine really had been right.

“I wanted all of that with you, I did, just not right away. But you were always talking about it and I didn’t want to hurt you so… and then everything blew up, and I panicked because it was all gone. So off I ran and found somebody else who wanted it, only I’m still not ready am I? What am I going to say to him?”

Reese wasn’t trying to have a conversation about what had happened between them. She was trying to have a conversation about how afraid she was of repeating that history with Drake. This didn’t matter to Justin. Justin didn’t care anything about Drake at this point, so he kept trying to pull the focus back. That wasn’t helpful when what she needed was advice about the here and now, but he was too busy trying to understand why his relationship had failed. His grip on her wrist couldn’t afford to get any tighter or it would hurt.

“And how did you expect me to know that if you didn’t tell me?”

“God.” Her eyes shot upwards as if she was looking for the deity in question. “The one damn time in your life you couldn’t see right through me and it had to be about that?”

“This isn’t funny, Reese!”

“Who’s laughing?” She exclaimed.

“You do realise if you had just told me…” His face screwed up in misery.

“Ohhhh no no no, you do not get to blame that on me! You’re still the one who decided to deal with it with some other girl!”

“I’m not blaming you, I just… God, Reese, you realise that if you and I had actually talked to each other about shit none of this would have happened? We’d be married and not having kids right now!”

The thought stuck in her throat. It was too little too late, but as it turned out her life truly had been what she thought all along. A good deal of her pain and fury over the cheating was less about what she’d seen – which was, after all, only a kiss - than the feeling that her past no longer made sense. He’d been her constant for her entire life. If she was wrong about something as fundamental as him then nothing she’d ever known could be trusted; so she’d turned away. When she heard his explanation in the hut it helped her forgive him because it reconciled her lifelong companion with the man that wounded her. Things might have gone wrong, but they’d gone wrong in a way that fit the story of her life as she knew it. That knowledge slotted the rest of her world back into place.

It set off all the re-evaluation that led here. Now she saw that she’d had everything she wanted. Everything hadn’t been tainted; she’d done right after all. They’d been on the same page only hadn’t known it. She hadn’t needed to give up anything else. It burned, especially given her current dilemma with Drake. She loved Drake but she wasn’t so confident any more that they were of one mind. She’d thought they were, but as it turned out she’d been deluding herself about her own end – one more reaction to the break up. She thought she’d lost her chance at family so she’d prematurely run to find another. And all this could have been avoided, if…

“I know,” she replied bitterly. “But maybe things just work out like they’re supposed to.”

“Nothing about this is how it’s supposed to be, or we’d still be together.” To hell with impartial, he was going with selfish.

“Really?” Now she looked irate. “For someone who thinks that you got a funny way of showing it. Never even tried to get me back and then you were just a bastard towards me.”

“Bull!” He yelped indignantly. “I never tried? You never gave me the chance! You didn’t want anything to do with me; you wouldn’t pick up the phone!”

“If you wanted to talk to me that bad you could have, Justin, and we both know it,” she said. “I was not hard to find. But you never came, did you?”

“I stayed away because I thought you’d slam the door in my face, just like you ignored the calls. You telling me you wanted me to come after you?”

He stepped even closer, taking her face in his hands. His eyes bored into hers. Her fingers closed ineffectually around his wrists, trying to push them away. Taut arms held her there. Reese tried to turn her head away and break the eye contact, but he held her in place.

Justin was deliberate in his next choice of words. “Because if I’d known you were waiting on me to, the wait would have been over.”

It wasn’t the first time he’d used that line on her. All these years later it had the same effect, only now it was mixed up with everything else that transpired between them. It made her feel dizzy, heartbroken, infuriated and full of electric charge all at once.

“At some point in the last year you turned into the most infuriating person I ever met. Sometimes I don’t know whether I want to slap you or kiss you.” Finally she completed the sentence.

“Well.” The word was somehow a soft, low chuckle. It was too cocky for the situation yet irritatingly alluring for that. It was him all over, that tone. It was one of the qualities that encouraged the whole slap/kiss dilemma. “You tell me, Reese. No more assuming I know, no more expecting me to figure it out for you. This time you tell me what it is you want from me, peanut, and it’s yours.”

His arms had relaxed now. The fingertips were brushing around her face with a much more delicate touch, one thumb stroking her cheek. Her eyes shifted downwards but he was still scrutinising, trying to see her response there before it left her lips.

“And what if I don’t know?”

“Work it out. You wanted my advice as your best friend, so that’s it - work it out. No more reacting, no more running away, you decide what you want and you go after it on purpose. Forget hurting other people’s feelings, you do right by yourself, because if you don’t that’ll hurt worse for everyone in the long run.”

Reese thought he was about to kiss her, but instead he drew back. His touch didn’t drop but it did falter; she couldn’t decide whether she was relieved or disappointed. Worry lines masked his face, and his eyes searched hers. What he was looking for she didn’t know.

“I should probably go,” she said. “Already missed one flight and there are only a couple more.”

Deflated, this time he did drop his hands. “Okay.”

“I…” She hesitated. “Thank you for the advice. I’ll think about it.”

“Do.”

Straightening up, Elizabeth Bennington grimaced and put a hand to her aching back. She was too advanced in years to be crouched over and kneeling on the floor like this for long.

“You know baby, this would have been a lot easier if you’d just made the appointment yesterday.”

“I know; I’m sorry.”

“At least it’s not too bad.”

Nadine had picked up the dress and dropped it off at the Bennington house. What small amount of nous Reese still possessed after the events of the past few days told her that it was a good idea to go try it on and check it was okay. She’d given up her lunch break to see her mother; it was a good thing that she had. She’d been laced in, and the second she stepped into her shoes it became clear that the hemline was uneven. One side sat perfectly, the other was gently brushing the floor and would drag all day. It wasn’t terrible but enough to notice – exactly the kind of thing nobody could notice until she put the dress on. That was of course what the missed fitting was for, in case of such an eventuality.

So now they were out in the conservatory where there was the most room to lay out the skirt. Her mom was trying to fix it for her. She was no master seamstress but she could at least do a simple hem, so all was not lost. She’d had to re-pin it a few times but she was at last happy with the results. The CD player was going in the background and Elizabeth was humming along to Phil Collins’s greatest hits as she worked (much to her daughter’s protestations). Feeling very old and creaky she pulled herself off the floor and peered up and down Reese’s body. Her joints no longer coped with getting up and down like that.

“Okay. Look in the mirror and be sure you’re happy with it before I go near it with a needle.”

Reese turned around and checked herself out. The other alterations had gone well and the gown was masterfully hiding any less toned parts. The hem now looked better. Still she felt more like a small child playing dress up than a bride - everyone assured her that once the hair and the veil were on it would feel more real.

“All good.”

“Okay then.”

Elizabeth moved behind her and was about to start unlacing the back, but they were interrupted by the entrance of her father.

“Well look what we have here.” John folded his arms across his chest and his head tilted sideways, taking in his daughter. “Don’t you look spiffy?”

“Just what every bride is going for on her wedding day - spiffy.” Her mom pulled a face of mock offence at her. Reese giggled.

“Hey now, it’s the highest compliment I got!” He said. “My baby’s going to do me proud as always, and she’ll look mighty spiffy doing it.”

“Vocabulary like that, you can tell he’s a lit professor huh?” Reese nudged her mother with an elbow.

“You know, the men in this family outnumber the women two to one yet somehow I’m still outgunned. How did I wind up with such a spiffy little smart ass?”  He clipped her affectionately around the back of the head before slipping a warm arm around her waist. Reese gave him a quick squeeze around the middle and he kissed her temple.

 “Well if you will go and raise your daughter in your own image that’s just what you got to expect,” Elizabeth said airily as she put the spare pins back in her kit. “She gets it from you.”

“You keep telling yourself that, sweetheart,” he replied. “Well, shall we take this dress for a spin, check it works okay?”

He turned towards Reese and picked up her hand, taking her into a dance hold. Jigging on the spot he gently shuffled them around to the upbeat tones of Phil. His wife would lynch him if he got too enthusiastic while the dress was still pinned rather than stitched, but he dared a few twirls and a little fancy footwork. Reese, who had never been taught to swing dance, was having trouble keeping up. She just about managed to spin around under his arm when directed, but she was too conscious of accidentally stepping on the train. By the time they got to their father-daughter dance at the reception she’d no longer care. Ceremony and photos would be long since done and it wouldn’t matter if it got a little grubby or had a mishap, but until then it needed to stay pristine.

“The dress is doing fine but we need to work on your skills, honey.”

“Not until Mom’s fixed my outfit,” she joked.

“Well fine.”

Her father let out a huff, and then much to the surprise of both women deftly swapped his daughter for his wife. Liz let out a little laugh in surprise but allowed it. Reese smiled as she watched them, toying with the ring on her left hand. There was a practised ease to their movement, and she could imagine what they’d been like in their heyday.

“We’re two hearts, living in just one mind…” John crooned along with the music, spinning her in time to the lyric.

“Hey Mom, where’s… geez!”

Clark popped his head around the door to ask his mother a question, only to be accosted with the sight of his folks being embarrassing. He considered it distasteful for them to be dancing to old fogey music in the middle of the conservatory. Hopefully they wouldn’t do it in public on Friday.

“Lame,” he said.

“Well you better learn to love it ‘cause you’re going to owe your big sister one of those at the reception. Don’t think you’re weaselling out of it.” Reese ruffled his dark hair before mischievously yanking the hood of his sweatshirt up over his head.

“Yeah, good luck getting me to do that.”

She went to swipe at him with her hand but he’d already ducked away and was pounding back up the stairs. He was quickly replaced by Oliver, who’d come to see what all the laughing was about.

“Nice dress, sis. What’s the occasion?” He asked with an innocent grin.

“Shut up Ollie.”

Mirroring his father before him, he hung his arm around her shoulders and dropped a kiss on her head. “You look great, sweets. So who let the parentals out of their cages?”

“I don’t know but I wish they’d quit because I’m stuck in here until she unties me. I got to get back to work soon.”

On hearing this, her father finally released her mother and sidled towards the door. “She knows there’ll always be a special place in my heart for her…” He crooned along with the music, kissing Reese once more on the cheek and clapping his son on the back as he walked past them and back into the house.

“Sometimes I can’t believe we share DNA with these people.” Oliver addressed his comment to Reese.

“Right?”

“God save me from the disapproval of my insolent offspring.” she laughed, a little breathless as she moved back to the sewing kit to select a suitably coloured thread. “Y’all will get to my age and realise you gotta grab your fun where you can get it.”

“And on that optimistic note, I’m going to Dean’s. See ya!”

Elizabeth fondly watched her son’s retreating back before turning back to the task in hand. Clark was enough of a handful by himself but she did sometimes miss the hustle and bustle of having all her children around. “Okay baby, let’s get you out of there.”

She untied the bow and started tugging at the corset strings to loosen them up. The dress wasn’t uncomfortable but still Reese let out a little sigh of pleasure as it slackened off. An entire day in the thing would be an interesting prospect.

“Oh. Can you pass me my phone Mom?”

It had beeped and she assumed it would be Drake (or Nadine for the fiftieth time since she’d hung up on her yesterday). When Elizabeth handed her the phone she could immediately see the text was from Sarah.

‘Hey hon – they’re being tight lipped but I think it’s down to you and some girl they saw after you! x’

There was a sharp intake of breath. Being at such close quarters, her mother couldn’t fail to miss it.

“Something up, sweetheart?”

“Umm… maybe. We’ll see.”

“Sounds mysterious.” Reese couldn’t see but Liz’s eyes were boring into the back of her daughter’s head, watching the way she’d twitched.

“Not really. Can I ask you a question?”

“Is it related to this not a mystery you just tried to dodge?”

“Haha, Mom.” She turned and poked her tongue out childishly. “It’s not a mystery; I just might have a job opportunity coming up.”

“Oh really?” She said. “Sounds interesting, what is it?”

“Well that was kind of what I wanted to ask. It would mean moving back away again and I’m just not sure whether Drake and I are going to want to do that with everything we have planned right now.”

“Oh, I see.” Now her gaze had taken on a shrewd intensity as she started pushing the dress back down around Reese’s hips and directing her to step out of it. “So what’s your question?”

“How did you and Dad know you wanted to settle down here?”

“Well actually we didn’t, I did,” she replied. “Your father wasn’t so sure. Arizona was looking like the only place he’d get a research grant and I didn’t want to go there. We got lucky that something opened up in Tennessee.”

“Really?” That struck an immediate chord with her.

“Yep. I didn’t want to move that far away from your grandparents knowing that Pops was going to need more care as time went on, but your dad wouldn’t have been happy without being able to pursue his work. If Pops had been fine or it had been a more reasonable distance then I would have been okay to follow him, but it was complicated.”

“It worked out though, obviously.”

“Yes.” Liz moved to gently scoop up the dress and take it to the table, smiling at her daughter. “A job opened up for him here and solved the problem. He would have been happy anywhere so long as he got to do what he loved, I think, but I wouldn’t have felt right leaving. What are you thinking, baby, you’re not sure you want to go if it comes up?”

She sighed. “I do but I’m not sure Drake will.”

“Well…” This was the problem with your children having whirlwind romances and giving you no time to get to know your prospective son in law. If they’d been talking about Justin she could have given her a pat answer, but Drake still had the potential to be a dark horse. “I may joke about him raising you in his image but you are very like your father. Question is I think whether Drake is really set on staying here or if he’s happy to just follow where you go.”   

“I don’t know, I…”

The sentence tapered off. Reese wondered how much she really wanted to confide in her mother. The depths of her deception certainly weren’t going on the table, and neither were the events of yesterday. The last thing she needed was anybody panicking that she was about to call off the wedding.

A heavy weight had lodged in the pit of her stomach and its name was Justin Timberlake, but she didn’t know exactly what that meant. There were unresolved feelings, that was for sure, but they were amorphous and hard to define. When you were with somebody that long of course a residual flame would still burn, and the way they’d broken up hadn’t left a lot of room for resolution and closure. That didn’t necessarily mean you should go back. Some part of her was always going to love him but for some time now she’d been ignoring it in her anger. As a result, the transition from romantic to platonic was being pushed upon her with more haste and force than it otherwise would have. That was confusing.

What she did know for certain was that she loved Drake. She wasn’t going to hurt him on a whim, so unless her gut really started telling her otherwise she was sticking to her commitments. In the past twelve months she’d made a bad habit of following whims. She was swearing off it.

“What, baby?” Curse her failing eyesight; she swore she used to be better at threading needles. The thread decided to co-operate at last and she took the needle to the hem, painstakingly making her first stitch. This was her little girl’s wedding dress so she was determined to be more careful with this than she’d ever been in her life.

“I guess I can’t help comparing it with Justin, a little bit.”

Elizabeth’s eyebrows shot up and she peered over her glasses at Reese, who was yanking her sweater back over her head. That was the first time she’d heard her voluntarily bring him up in a very long time. “Oh?”

“Well, you know me and Justin have kind of called peace?”

“No I didn’t. Good to hear, though.”

“It’s just that we’re starting to be friends again, and even after everything it’s pretty easy. Me and him tended to agree on most stuff, or at least the major stuff, and even now after all this crap we’ve started falling back in like nothing happened. I usually had a good idea of what he’d say before I told him anything, whereas Drake… I guess I’m just not used to not being sure how my boyfriend’s going to react to something. I know that sounds dumb.”

“No, sounds natural to me,” she said. “You know, what you had with Justin was actually pretty unusual, so try not to compare it too much. Your dad and I were married with several children before we’d known each other as long as you had before you even started dating. What you’re going through with Drake now is the normal aspect of, you know, navigating a relationship. You work out where your compromises are. You just did that with Justin long before it had adult consequences like where you live and what job you take.”

Her mother’s words spread as a soothing balm on her skin. It sounded far less scary when she said it like that. There were all kinds of logic in it.

“What if we can’t compromise, though?”

“Well.” Liz’s eyebrows shot up once again. “Some things there’s no middle on, so you have to figure out when you’re prepared to give in and when you’re not. Marriage can withstand a lot of differences but there are some things you just have to agree, otherwise it’s a recipe for regret down the line.”

“Like you and Dad?”

“I think so,” she said. “Can’t know for sure what would have happened, but I’d wager he’d have wound up resenting me if he’d felt forced to give up his research. I wasn’t going no matter what, but if the job here hadn’t come up… I don’t know. Maybe he might have felt he had to, and that would have been the end of that.”

“Well phew. Lucky for my existence it worked out.”

Reese was smiling now and appeared to be standing less rigid, so Liz took that as a sign she’d assuaged her fears. That was good. For a moment she’d wondered if she should start to worry.

“It just comes down to what you need to be happy in yourself. Long as you got those things you won’t care where you live.”

“You don’t think you’d be happy anywhere doing anything so long as it was with the one?”

“That’s a very romantic notion, baby, but I never really thought there was only one person in the whole world you could be compatible with,” Elizabeth said. Tying off the thread, she cut the last of it away and started scrutinising the hem for any mistakes. “I think for the right fit a lot of things are negotiable, though. Trick is finding somebody who meets you on the important points and who you love enough not to sweat the small stuff.”

“And you think there’s more than one of those in the world? Man, better not tell Dad.”

“Hey, I only needed to find one. Who cares how many more are around?” She laughed as she stood up and delicately picked up the dress to put it back into its garment bag.

“Well, I guess it’s comforting for if you outlive him.”

“Impudent child!” She reached over and swatted her on the arm. “You’d definitely better not tell your dad that one!”

Any other time Reese might have laughed or poked her mother in retaliation, but she was too busy trying to ignore the voice in her back of her brain. It was an evil voice. It was a voice reminding her that as the scores stood, Justin met her mother’s criteria while the jury was still out on Drake. There would be further evidence to present when she suggested the small matter of abandoning their current plans and moving to California.

It could be worse, she supposed. At least this had come up before rather than after the wedding. And at least her ex was the other side of the country where he and that annoying soulful expression he was so good at couldn’t confuse her further.

“I’m sorry, remind me who you are again? Your face looks familiar.”

“Yeah yeah, Turner.”

Drake opened out his arms and Reese stepped into them willingly, snuggling in. The thing about Drake being so wide set was that he felt very solid and all-enveloping when he hugged her. He was just the right height, taller than her but not too much, so her head hit the right spot against him. The lingering smell of engine oil wasn’t so great but after a good shower it’d be gone.

“You just got back so late yesterday and I had an early one so I couldn’t wait up, sorry. Didn’t want to wake you to say good morning.”

“Nothing to be sorry for.” She shrugged. Drake pecked her lightly on the lips and she gave him a doleful smile.

“Can’t believe you’re giving me that face after you spent two days in a spa. You don’t look very rested.”

“Gee, thanks baby,” Reese joked. Guilt was jabbing her in the solar plexus.

“Nah, I know how you feel; I can’t shut my brain off either with all these arrangements. I don’t care whether they put sugared almonds or mints in the damn favour bags,” he groaned.

That assumption was incorrect but far less hazardous than the truth. She liked it, she wouldn’t discourage it. “I actually forgot about my last dress fitting yesterday. That’s how over the arrangements I am at this point.”

“I keep revisiting that whole elopement idea, if you’re up for it.”

“Tempting, but they’d kill us. Think we’re doomed to do this thing.”

“Well hey, so long as you’re Mrs Turner at the end of it I guess it works out.” He removed one hand from her waist to brush a stray hair away from her forehead. He planted a kiss where his fingers had been. “Seriously though, did you at least have some fun?”

“A little.” That wasn’t a lie. Sunday evening had been enjoyable. When your ex was being bratty to you it was easy to forget there had ever been any good times; Sunday was a reminder that she used to have fun hanging out with the guy. “But actually some stuff came up that’s kind of stressed me out a little, and I wanted to talk to you about it.”

“Wow. Snap.” He grimaced.

“Really?”

“Really. I need to shower first but I was thinking maybe we could go walk up the trail and talk through it? I’m out with the guys for the bachelor not-a-party tonight but I don’t wanna sit on this until tomorrow.”

“Umm… sure, that works.”

Drake left one last peck on her lips before disengaging and heading off towards the bathroom. Reese watched his retreating back with an appraising gaze. Going out for some fresh air and a heart to heart wasn’t a suggestion she’d expected from him. Typically they did their best chatting over meals or over drinks, whether at home or in a bar or a restaurant. He wasn’t the type to propose a romantic walk, or even any kind of walk. That wasn’t to say she minded (meandering outside with some fresh air and decent scenery shook the mental cobwebs out) but she was a little taken aback.

She had no time to dwell on that, however, as if they were going walking she needed her sneakers. She had no idea where they were.

**

Trace yanked open the door of the bar and was immediately hit with a blast of warm air. It was busy, a lot of bodies were milling around, and even walking in there made him feel too hot. Stripping off his jacket, he craned his head and scanned the room. The booths were so high backed that he couldn’t see much. After eliminating almost every other table in the place he found his by default. Stalking to the back of the room, he tossed his jacket onto the vinyl seat and then slid into it himself. The forcefulness with which he did so expressed everything for him, but still he peered disdainfully at the man opposite. Folding his arms across his chest, he waited.

“Well hi to you too.”

“Dude,” he said. The tone articulated more than mere words could. The look could have withered plant life.

“Beer?” His companion gestured to the pitcher next to him and the empty glass waiting. His own glass was already half drained.

“Dude,” he repeated.

Justin’s face twisted in a dark smirk. “This really how you’re gon’ be?”

“Is this really how you’re gon’ be?” Trace riposted. “They giving out frequent flyer miles with that jet now?”

“Actually I flew commercial this time. Cheaper.”

And far more high profile, Trace mentally noted. There was next to zero chance that somebody somewhere hadn’t documented his movements. If it wasn’t paparazzi at the airport it’d be some excited passenger on Twitter. Given the gossip around him at the moment it was a foolish move.

“JT, man, what are you doing?” He cut the repartee. “I thought you decided you should stay away? Hell, I thought you actually had some shit to do?”

“You spoken to the peanut since she got back?”

“We are not talking about her right now.”

“It’s relevant to the question.”

If there was one thing he found annoying about his best friend (there were many, but should he be forced to narrow it down) it was the way he became so inscrutable at times like this. They’d be talking, Trace would be trying to get down to brass tacks, but Justin would become aloof and obtuse. It was exasperating. He didn’t know if it was some attempt to control the conversation or just to add some kind of gravitas to his words, but as far as he was concerned it was bullshit. It would be nice to be spared the performance.

“I asked how her interview went. She said fine. We’re meeting for lunch tomorrow. I am not inviting you, before you ask.”

“Wasn’t gonna.”

“Tick tock, still waiting to hear why that was so crucial to know.”

Justin’s fingers played with the bottom of his glass, rolling it against the table top. The condensation was dripping over them. “I just needed to know whether she told you that we had a fight, discovered that she didn’t marry me because she thought I was going to turn her into a brood mare and she confessed she’s still got feelings for me. Guess she didn’t so I’ll have to fill you in.”

For a moment Trace didn’t respond; compulsively he nodded his head in shallow little jerks. Sucking air in through his nose with a loud huff, he grabbed the pitcher and glass and hastily poured himself a drink. It took two or three long gulps to soothe his nerves back down.

“Fuckin’ A, I got some taste in friends. Nothin’ but fuckin’ drama.”

The hostility caught Justin off guard. He’d anticipated misgivings and warnings, but not the sheer power of resentment that seemed to be rolling off of his best pal.

“When did this become about you?”

“It’s never about me, is it? World revolves around you,” he said, tossing back another swig and scowling even through swallowing. “You two have your little saga going on and I’m stuck in the middle, it totally fucks up shit between all three of us and yet somehow y’all both seem to forget that I’m here too. I just got her back, bro, only lost her because you fouled up in the first place, and I am not here for you showing back up to wreak havoc and scare her away again.”

That one felt like taking a hammer to the skull – or maybe a cannonball. It was the first time that Trace had ever made any kind of sentiment known about the chasm the break up created in the middle of their little triangle. He’d had no idea that he was harbouring so much bad feeling over it.

“I guess that’s… harsh but deserved,” Justin said slowly, eyes trained on the beer mat rather than meeting Trace’s hard gaze.

That was all he needed to hear. Knowing his complaints were acknowledged as righteous was enough to puncture his anger. All the energy fizzled out of it. Seeing his friend looking so shamefaced on his account made him feel instantly better disposed. Slumping forward slightly, he reached out and clapped him awkwardly on the arm.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to be a hard ass, but I just think you’re torturing yourself coming back here.”

Justin twisted his head around, scanning the nearby area for anyone who looked like they might eavesdrop. He’d purposely picked the place because it was highly unlikely anybody in here would give two hoots about his presence, but years of dealing with tabloids had taught him paranoia.

“So I’ll bite,” Trace said, “why did you?”

“Long story short, we were getting on really well until after her interview. She had this meltdown over the fact that she lied about it, it turned into us fighting, and all this shit just started coming out about us.”

“Like what?”

“Turns out she was avoiding our wedding because she wrongly thought I wanted her to start shootin’ out babies the second she got the ring on. She wants to come back to LA, and she strongly suggested that if I’d physically run after her when she dumped me things would have been different. I mean, the way she was talking, T…” He shook his head. “Everything that never made sense to us about her running home? She was just making opposite choices hoping it’d work out better. Only now she’s catching up to the rest of us on how wrong it is for her, and it can’t be long before she works out he’s wrong for her too on the same basis.”

“You so sure on that? Drake’s a good guy, JT.” Trace sat back and folded his arms, scrutinising his friend. Maybe if he stared long enough he’d be able to decipher how rational (or not) this assessment was.

“He seems like it.” His lips grudgingly formed the words as if that was audacity on Drake’s part. “But he’s not a match for Reese. Her and me… the dumb thing is that we were actually alright the whole time. The whole damn bust up was just miscommunication, pretty much, underneath it we were solid. She still loves me, I’m sure of it after that conversation. Which means that if I make the same mistake and don’t run after her then I’m an even bigger dumb ass for that than for being a dick to her.”

“Look, I wasn’t there, so I can’t know if you’re right or you just heard what you wanted to hear. But either way - she came back here and she’s still getting married, far as I know.”

“I asked her to consider and she said she’d think about it, but she hasn’t contacted me since,” Justin said. “I mean, I’m not planning to do anything melodramatic or to crash the ceremony or anything like that. I just need to be here and let her know that I came after her this time. She needs to see that I did. After that all I can do is let Reese choose and deal with it if it doesn’t go my way.”

“What, because flying back here for like the third time in a week hoping to talk her out of her wedding isn’t melodramatic?” Trace scoffed.

“I was going more for romantic.”

“Alright, alright.” He sighed deeply. “You got to do what you got to do, no point living with the what if, but I got to make it clear right now that you leave me out of it. I’m not putting in words for you, I’m not passing messages or any kind of shit, and if there is a wedding on Friday I will be there.” 

“Fair enough.” Justin nodded.

“I mean it. I know what you’re like, you’ll wheedle me into doing your dirty work.”

“Scout’s honour.”

“I don’t remember you being a Scout. Or were you just working for your boy band badge the whole time?”

The evil edge to that comment told him that maybe Trace wasn’t completely calmed down yet. It seemed like changing the subject would be a smart move.

**

“Jesus Christ, could you at least attempt to look enthused?” Dean muttered.

Oliver replied to that comment with the same sharp elbow in the ribs he’d received. “Don’t pretend like you’re any more interested than I am. Nobody likes these dumb ass speeches.”

“Seriously, you need to start being nicer to the guy,” Sam butted in. “We’re about to be related.”

“Don’t remind me.”

They were sitting in a bar, a short distance away from the other attendees of Drake’s bachelor ‘not-a-party’ – Reese was spending the evening with Jenna and the kids while the guys were out. After a lot of aborted plans Drake decided he didn’t want the usual trappings, so it had been food and a few quiet beers (or a lot of them). Dean had even caught sight of the best man hastily making phone calls after Drake warned the group that any stripper who turned up was being sent immediately away again. Somehow he doubted the deposit would be refundable. It felt unfriendly, sitting away from the rest of the group and not being so involved, but Oliver was being somewhat bratty about the whole thing. He begrudged being forced to attend and was childishly not making much effort to hide it, so they’d thought it was best to pull him back slightly. No need to let him dampen everybody else’s mood.

“What’s your problem with him?” Dean asked. “He’s a decent guy, he treats Reese nice…”

“And he fixed the transmission on your broke ass truck for free. So easily bought.”

“You shut your mouth about my…”

“Yes, yes, we know, you love your damn truck.” Sam breathed a grumpy sigh. “He’s still got a point, Ollie. What gives?”

“What gives is that this is clearly headed for disaster and I seem to be the only one in the family who’s noticed.”

“If you forgot, you’ve been riding around on a ship for the past eighteen months. We’ve actually had a chance to get to know the guy.”

“Which makes it all the dumber that I’m the only one who noticed,” Oliver said. “Y’all must be blind or something.”

“Enlighten us, o wise all seeing one,” Dean replied with gruff incredulity. “What’s wrong with him?”

“It’s not him, it’s her. Our sister, she who can’t do anything unless it’s written in an appointment book several months in advance, having some rush engagement to a stranger two minutes after she’s broken up with the wonder kid? This really didn’t strike any of the rest of you as the rebound it so obviously is?”

Sam shrugged, reaching into the bowl of nuts and grabbing the last few. “Sometimes people are unpredictable, doesn’t mean they don’t know what they’re doing. Reese is a tough cookie, knows her own mind.”

“Sure she does, but she’s not always as together as people think she is,” Ollie insisted. He knew he’d probably been closest to her growing up, but he shouldn’t be the only one who knew her well enough to get that. He found it irksome that nobody else was cottoning on. If he could see this after only a few days why couldn’t they?

“She’s smarter than to take a rebound this far. Don’t you think that if she’s even thinking about getting married she’s over it?” Dean pointed out.

“No I don’t. She’s had boyfriends like him before and they never lasted. And as nauseating as I found the way she and Timberlake were always so cutesy, compare that to her and this guy.” He pointed the neck of his Corona bottle at his prospective brother in law. “Sometimes she barely notices he’s still in the room.”

“Even if you’re right – and I definitely ain’t sayin’ you are - Reese is a big girl who can make her own mistakes,” Dean said firmly. He’d pull out the ‘I’m the oldest’ tone if he had to. “You got a problem with it talk to her but in the meantime, there’s no reason to be an ass to the guy. So play nice.”

Oliver was about to make a retort but was interrupted by the arrival of Trace Ayala and Justin Timberlake. Quickly he rearranged his expression into something more congenial.

“Hey y’all,” Trace said. “Didn’t expect to see you guys out tonight.”

“Hey,” Justin nodded at the three of them. To Oliver’s eagle eye, both looked a little intoxicated. They weren’t sloppy, but Trace’s drawl was slower than usual and Justin was a little unsteady on his feet.

“Yeah, you too,” Sam gave them a friendly smile. “Good to see you.”

“You want to pull up a chair, have a drink?”

Dean’s foot met Oliver’s shin with a mighty kick. Inviting Reese’s ex to join her fiancé’s bachelor party was not in his definition of playing nice.

“Nah, we were just out the door, best get going.” Whether Trace had caught on or just had his own reasons for thinking it was a bad plan they weren’t sure, but both Dean and Sam were mentally thanking him.

Then they were both mentally cursing as Drake arrived at the table, flanked by one of his groomsmen. There was no subtle way to give Oliver a ‘don’t even think about it’ signal, but neither of them trusted him not to keep stirring. As much as they loved their brother, he was a master at it – could probably start an argument with the Dalai Lama if he was determined enough. Most of the time that evil little talent was restricted to family squabbles and inter-sibling teasing, but given the irrational dislike he’d taken to Drake there was no telling what sly digs he could make.

“Hey y’all, we were thinking we’d move onto Joe’s, get a few games of pool going.”

“Sure, sounds good.” Dean spoke for the three of them, and he didn’t care what Oliver thought about that. He would frogmarch him there by force if he had to.

Drake turned to Justin and Trace, trying not to let his uneasiness show. He wouldn’t have blinked twice at it if he’d been expecting them, but he was taken off guard. Since his first meeting Trace he’d now gathered that the two of them had grown up in some kind of Three Musketeers set up with his fiancée. Somehow with that knowledge it was hard to look at Trace and not see him as Justin’s friend rather than Reese’s. It was like he’d discovered he was conversing with the enemy. That was stupid and he knew it, but it didn’t stop him feeling it.

“How about you guys? Always room for Reese’s friends.”

It was a gentlemanly gesture, and it was not lost on anyone present. Justin was trying not to let the guilt show on his face – little did Drake know the man he was offering drinks to was only here in order to try and win away his girlfriend. Trace was holding his breath without realising it. Oliver was giving a wolfish smirk at everybody’s discomfort and Sam was glancing at Dean with a sinking feeling of looming disaster.

“Thanks, man, but we were just saying to these three that we got to head out. Have a good one though, yeah?”

Justin held out his hand and Drake shook it. “Thanks, y’all too. Safe trip.”

Relieved smiles were passing over everybody’s faces (except Oliver’s). Neither Drake nor Justin was the type to be needlessly aggressive, they’d never needed to worry, but the situation was precarious enough to make them do so.

Trace and Justin had waved goodnight and were walking away when the comment came from behind them, clear as a bell. “Don’t know why you even asked. Like he was gonna stay to hang with the guy who took over the pussy.”

The reasons for that comment being foolish could have filled the Doomsday Book. It was offensive. It was insulting. Even if it was better phrased the general sentiment was still ungracious. The idiot was too drunk to regulate his volume properly and had misjudged how loud he was saying it – he had intended it as a silly joke to Drake, not for Justin to hear. What Justin particularly took umbrage to was the person most precious to him first being reduced to her genitals and then talked about as if she was some piece of property that Drake had taken possession of. Both he and Trace turned back around with matching expressions of outrage.

The fatally imprudent thing, however, the icing on the cake, was that it had been uttered while standing right next to the Bennington brothers. Dean had immediately scraped back his chair and was towering over the perpetrator with an ugly and wrathful glare – he’d narrowly beaten Ollie to it.

“You want to say that again, you little piece of shit?”

“Jesus Christ, Shane…” Drake pressed his hands to their chests and separated them, pushing them back away from each other. “Sorry, Dean, he didn’t actually mean it that way.”

“Really? ‘Cause he sure as hell said it that way,” Oliver replied. Venomous menace was radiating from him.

“What’s the big deal, I didn’t say anything!”

That was a very poor answer and Dean’s reaction was to start advancing again. It took all Drake’s considerable upper body strength to restrain him from doing so.

“When he has a few too many he says the wildest things, it’s like he has drunk Tourette’s,” Drake pleaded. “He has no idea right now but I promise you, when he’s sober he’ll be embarrassed and falling over himself to apologise.”

“You’re actually defending him?” Given his line of work Justin was capable of putting some real decibels on his voice. The unfortunate side effect of this was gaining the attention of onlookers. “He opens his mouth to talk about Reese like that and not only are you not punching his fucking lights out you’re acting like it’s no big deal?!”

“Good question!” Dean said. He was especially aggrieved because he had so shortly before been fighting Drake’s corner for him with Ollie. Now was not a great time to prove his faith misplaced.

Drake was breathing deeply, trying not to rise to that. His own temper was trying to fire up within him but he should not let that happen. He needed to defuse this, not get stuck in himself. The problem was that while he was a long time friend of Shane’s and knew this kind of talk was merely an alcohol induced failure of the brain-mouth filter, other people weren’t. They could only take him at his word. Drake knew that in Shane’s beer-fogged head he was simply making a joke. Being drunk beyond a certain level robbed him of the ability to see the line between being off colour but funny and being plain offensive.

This wasn’t the first time it got them in trouble, but it was the last occasion on which he’d needed him to have one of these turns. His day had been trying enough as it was and these were not the people he wanted pissed off. Normally Shane limited his intake precisely because he’d learned it got him in hot water, but clearly he’d relaxed too much tonight. Hopefully Drake could save him from the consequences; though truth told, he was sick of having to do so.

“He doesn’t mean it, he’s drunk, stay out of this.”

“Fine,” Sam interjected.  “He can apologise for my sister then. Now.” This was both an attempt to dial things back down – hoping an apology would soothe ruffled feathers – but also his way of making his own displeasure known. He might not get physical the way Dean or Ollie would, but that didn’t mean he’d let this kind of thing go either.

“Sure, sure,” Shane said, holding his hands up in surrender. “No offence intended. I’m sure she’s got a great…”

He hadn’t been about to repeat his previous turn of phrase, but Dean and Oliver wrongly anticipated it and weren’t going to allow him the opportunity. Both of them charged at him. Drake was still standing between them so took the full force of their bodies slamming together. In order to try and extract himself he had little choice but to try and push Dean away, but Oliver took this as an attack on his brother and so started going for him as well. Sam dived in to try and pull his brothers back off, but was only succeeding in putting his own face in the way of the flying fists.

Justin had been about to march in himself, seething more at Drake for defending it than even the guy for saying it, but was yanked backwards by his jacket collar.

“Hell no,” Trace told him, dragging him towards the door. “We’re getting out of here.”

“But you heard what he said!”

“Yes I did, but what do you think Reese’ll say? Or the damn tabloids?”

Even in the midst of his fury Justin took the point. He was here for Reese, and getting into a fist fight with her fiancé would be detrimental to his cause even if it was to defend her honour. She wasn’t likely to thank her brothers for this and he did not need to join them in the doghouse. He needed to see camera phone footage of himself in a bar fight flying across the internet even less.

Instead, it just made him doubly determined that he was going to talk her out of this stupid wedding.

“Come on baby… that’s it… come to Momma…”

“Come on Daisy, next foot!”

Daisy was currently attempting to pull herself out of her aunt’s grip, more squatting than really standing upright. Reese had her by the hands, and was trying to assist her in walking over to Jenna. Jenna sat on the floor with her back against the couch, arms open and trying to coax her baby onwards.

Finally Daisy yanked herself down and planted her bottom on the floor, so Reese conceded defeat.

“She’s getting better.”

“She is, normally she’ll only go three or four steps.” Jenna smiled brightly. “Don’t know why she’s so stubborn, Will couldn’t wait to move.”

“God, I remember,” she said. “You helped him up and he wouldn’t let you leave him.”

“In for the duration, yep.” Jenna pulled her legs under herself and started getting up. “This one only pulls that trick when you’re trying to put her to bed.”

Reese glanced at the clock. Bedtime had been some time ago but Daisy had kicked up a fuss. It took a long while to get her down, and even after that she’d quickly woken back up. Eventually Mom heaved a sigh of acceptance and brought her back downstairs.

“This is why Aunt Reese enjoys handing her back.”

“Yeah well just you wait, this’ll be you soon and you won’t have the luxury!”

“Well actually…”

“What?” Jenna’s head snapped up. The pause was tantalising, it suggested news.

“Not as soon as originally planned,” she said.

Moving over to the table, she took another slice of pizza. It had lost most of its heat by this stage but it was still good. Dean had gone out to Drake’s bachelor gathering and they’d had a night in with the kids. They played Candyland with Will, watched Aladdin, and then after they’d sent him off to bed they ordered the pizza and cracked open the ice cream (to hell with their dresses, that was what corsets were for). Daisy’s diva fit derailed their plan to watch a movie more to their tastes, but that didn’t matter. The sisters in law got along pretty well so they were happy just to gossip.

“Oh really now? So what gives?” She sat down on the couch, keeping an eye on Daisy as she crawled around the rug.

“So…” The corners of her mouth went up in a happy curve. “My old firm got in contact with me about a job they had going.” That was a little fib, but she needed to keep it up with everybody but Justin and Trace. Sarah was also sworn to secrecy, though she was so happy at the outcome that she hadn’t batted an eyelid.

“Oh wow,” Jenna exclaimed. “Back to LA?”

“Yes. I spoke to Drake about it earlier, he’s on board, and we’re going to take a month or so to fix everything and get out there.”

“Well that’s… wow! I’ll miss you, but that’s great. Congratulations.”

“Thanks.” It felt like she was carrying a small candle around inside. It wasn’t big; it was a tiny light that was lit up in her chest, warming her through. It was more than enough, however, and she felt like she must be glowing. Drake’s acquiescence was a huge weight off her shoulders. “Though I didn’t actually get the job in the end. But it got me feeling like I want to go back there, and as it turns out we might as well because  they just told me at work today that Mason’s retiring and we’re shutting up shop. They’ll still pay me for the two weeks’ notice, but by the time I get back from vacation I won’t have a job.”

“Oh wow,” Jenna breathed.

“Yeah. I should have figured, I’ve been really pushing my luck with time off lately and they couldn’t care less. Should have known something was up.”

“Man. Well, thank God he at least waited until now when everything’s paid for the wedding,” Jenna said. “Would have been really bad timing for one of you to be out of work. What you going to do when you get there though?”

“I have history with some temp agencies out there, so I called and they’ve got some things I can do while I’m looking.”

“Wow,” she repeated. “You’re braver than I am. I wouldn’t want to move an hour up the interstate without everything locked in but you’re ready to just pack up and go to the other side of the country; that takes guts. Always admired that about you, you know.”

Reese smiled, blushing a little. That description sounded much more like a dynamic person, the one Tiffany had said she was. In a way she felt like it wasn’t only her sister in law giving her the thumbs up - it was Harmony. That was nuts since Jenna never met Harmony but nobody said feelings had to be logical. It felt like the kind of thing she’d support.

“Won’t lie, I’m a little nervous not to have something locked already, but I figure since I’m gonna be unemployed either way it might as well be where it’s richer pickings. In a way it works out though because they needed the PA to start real soon; this gives me longer to organise the move. Like, I’d probably have to cancel the honeymoon for that.”

“Geez, to hell with that. After the planning and then the day you need the vacation just to get over it.”

“Oh you know it,” she laughed. That was the nice thing about being the second in the family to get married – she felt like she had an ally who understood the stress she was under. Somebody like Nadine didn’t understand. It wasn’t that she was unsympathetic or didn’t realise the importance of the day for her. She simply thought it was strange to get so worked up about what she viewed as essentially a party (not helped by the fact that Nadine was in general ill-disposed towards the notion of marriage).

“I told Dean I didn’t care where we went; there was just no way in hell we were going straight back to work.”

“Speaking of big bro, what time they due back? I probably ought to go soon but if I’m going to get called to pick their asses up I’ll wait.” She laughed.

“Soon I think. At least for Dean anyway, he’s on shift tomorrow.”

“Oh!” Reese heard the familiar sound of Beyonce coming from her phone. “Maybe that’s one of them.”

The name flashing up told her it wasn’t.

“Hey, T,” she said brightly as she answered. “How’s tricks?”

“Where are you?”

“I’m at Dean’s, me and Jenna are hanging. You okay?” Lines creased in her forehead. He sounded strange.

“Oh that’s close. Okay, stay there, we’re coming to you.”

“Why? Who’s we?”

“Me and Justin. Just stay there and if either of you get any phone calls, I’ll explain everything when we get there.”

Trace hung up before she could ask any more questions. Reese was looking at Jenna, slack-jawed and confused. What the hell was going on? Why was Trace coming there? What phone calls was she supposed to expect and why in God’s name was he with Justin who was supposed to be in California?

Jenna’s face immediately paled in trepidation. Her sister in law’s expression could not herald anything good. “What is it?”

“I have no idea, but we’re about to have company.”

**

When the doorbell finally went both Reese and Jenna bolted for it. Both were equally on edge; that was Trace’s fault. When he said either of them could expect calls it doubled their worry, because they didn’t understand what he could have to say that would affect both of them.

Perhaps if he was sober he would have realised being so abrupt would only frazzle their nerves, that he should have given them the basics, but he wasn’t running on full throttle. Most of his concentration had been on trying to calm Justin down. The two of them had walked towards Trace’s place from the bar. Along the way it occurred to them that there was every chance of people being injured or arrested as a result of the brawl taking place. Quickly deciding that it would be better coming from them than the local sheriff’s office, they’d changed direction. Dean and Jenna’s house wasn’t far from his so it hadn’t taken them long to get there.

“What in blazing hell is going on?” Reese asked without preamble. “And what are you doing back?”

Justin would have to ignore the second question until they were alone. “Can we come in?”

The girls stepped back, hustling them in with as much speed as possible. “So?”

“Maybe we should sit down,” Trace said.

“Oh God that can’t be good.” Jenna’s words tumbled out in a worried rush.

“We, uhh…” Justin put a hand to Reese’s back and started leading her back into the living room. Daisy was still sitting nonchalantly on the rug, chewing a stuffed dog. “We were out for a drink, and we happened to come across Drake and your brothers.”

Reese froze solid. This did not sound good, though it explained Jenna’s involvement. “And?”

“We, uhh… well…umm…”

“There’s no good way to say this, but, umm, just before we left it got really ugly between your brothers and one of Drake’s friends,” Trace finished for him.

“What?” Jenna asked. “Why?”

“He said something. About Reese.”

“What?”

“I’d, uhh, rather not repeat it.”

“Trace…” She growled threateningly. “You do not get to call and scare the living daylights out of us then not tell us what’s going on.”

“Alright, alright. From the beginning.” He pulled a chair out from the table and sat down on it. The world weary slump gave him an air of having survived a great battle, like he was a veteran recounting an ambush. “So we’d been in there, hanging out, and as we were leaving we saw your brothers so we went over to say hi. Then Drake comes over, says they’re moving bars, and did Justin and I want to join them.”

Neither of the women interrupted him at this point, though they shared a confused glance sideways at each other. This didn’t sound bad so far. Reese was actually quite pleased with her fiancé for that magnanimity.

Justin picked up the thread, not sitting down but standing rigid with his hands shoved in his pockets. The walk went a long way to calming him down but he was still angry. “We said no, we had to go, so we said goodnight and I shook Drake’s hand, but then as we were walking away this asshole said… said…”

“He said he didn’t know why Drake had even asked since Justin was never going to hang with the guy who… umm…”

“Who what?” Jenna asked, starting to connect the dots.

“I’m really sorry to repeat it, but his exact words were ‘took over the pussy.’ Sorry, Reese.”

Trace cringed, waiting for her to start shooting the messenger. His expectations were squashed, however, when a grim look of comprehension came over her face. Jenna let out a gasp and clapped her hand to her mouth, but Reese seemed a lot less perturbed than he’d predicted.

“I bet that was his friend Shane. I’ve never met him but Drake’s told me some stories, says he’s all mouth when he gets drunk. It sounds really funny when you’re just hearing some of it back but Drake says he’s got them into hairy situations before.”

Justin bristled at hearing this. So the mechanic was telling the truth – even so, he still wasn’t giving him any leniency. He never should have tolerated it the way he did. Not that.

“So I’m guessing the dipshit was stupid enough to say that in front of my husband?”

Jenna pushed a hand back through her hair, pulling it from her face. Her back teeth scraped the inside of her cheek, gnawing on it anxiously. Her brain was rapidly filling in the blanks. Dean was fiercely protective of his family, and insulting one of them in his presence was dangerous. In his younger days he’d been extremely impetuous and got into a lot of fights (something he had in common with Drake – they were similar characters which might be why he was the Bennington boy who took to him best). Age and maturity had chilled him out a lot, his temper was usually firmly under control, but coming for one of his family was still a health hazard. She got a feeling she knew how the rest of this story went.

“Yes,” Justin replied. “He was standing right next to all three of them, was like the guy had a death wish. Dean got in the guy’s face and Drake was trying to calm it back down, saying he didn’t mean it, but Dean and Ollie were still pissed. Sam tried to make the guy apologise but then the way he was talking he was about to say something else and the two of them just went for him. Last we saw all four of them were smacking the shit out of each other and Sam was getting whaled on trying to break it up.”

“Sorry, we would have tried to help but I figured I needed to get Justin out of there before his presence made it newsworthy.”

“No, you did the right thing.” Jenna’s hands were wringing together, but she managed to pause them long enough to give Trace a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “So when you said we should expect phone calls you meant from the cops?”

“I don’t know,” Justin answered. “We just didn’t want you panicking if you got calls from the emergency room or something.”

“Yeah,” Reese said with caustic acidity in her voice. “The stitches and black eyes will look great in the photos. God I can’t believe those idiots.”

Jenna glared at Reese. “Because that’s what’s important right now?”

Immediately she felt chastened. “Sorry honey, just being sarcastic. To hell with the photos, I just can’t believe they’ve been so dumb.”

“No, you’re right.” Jenna reached out and slung an arm around Reese’s waist. Reese looped her own arm around her sister in law’s back and gave her a squeeze. “I’d make cracks about our next family gathering being fun, except the wedding is the next damn family gathering.”

“Oh.” She squeaked out. The room began to spin, delirious panic blurring her vision. “My fiancé and my brothers have been beating the crap out of each other. They’re never going to speak again are they? Oh Lord…”

Daisy broke the spell by letting out a loud wail. While they’d been preoccupied she had hauled herself up on her walker but then fallen over, face planting on the floor. Jenna rushed over to scoop her up, looking harassed.

“I should get her into bed. Reese, can you try and call one of the guys?”

“Yep.”

Grabbing her phone off the table, she frantically tried each number in turn. Her swearing got louder and more vociferous every time she was greeted with a voicemail message. It was punctuated with threats of bodily harm against Drake, Dean and Oliver. Sam was spared only because he at least had been trying to stop the melee, even if he’d made it worse. The points for intent saved him.

“Well fuck it.” She tossed her phone down angrily on the table, as if it was the device to blame. “They got themselves into this so they can get themselves out.”

Trace said a silent prayer of thanks. Half of him had worried that Reese would try to go down there. He didn’t know whether they’d still be there or not but he imagined her presence would inflame the situation further.

She touched her hand to her forehead – it felt warm and there was a headache brewing. It wasn’t an actual fever; she was just agitated and flushed. How could it be that a few short hours ago she had been trying on that wedding dress? It felt like everything had tipped upside down since then. Her news, Drake’s news, the agreement to move, the beginnings of a family feud…

“Least you two were smart enough to keep yourselves out of it. Small mercy at least.”

“I wasn’t,” Justin said with a matter of fact pinch. “I’d have been first in line to hit the asshole if Trace hadn’t hauled me out.”

Reese leaned over and kissed Trace on the cheek, looping her arms around his neck from behind to give him a hug. “Thank you for being the only sane man in my life.”

“Thank you for finally acknowledging my superiority.” He reached up and rubbed her hand. “Listen, now we’ve given you the bad news I need to jet. You gonna be okay?”

“Yeah.” She gave him one more kiss and then stood up so he could get up. “Still on for lunch tomorrow? I can’t promise I won’t be bitching.”

“You know it. JT, you alright to call a cab from here or you want to do it from mine?”

“I wanted to talk to Reese for a minute; I’ll stay and grab one from here.”

“Okay.” Trace eyeballed him, looking him up and down with a suspicious gaze. Surely he couldn’t be about to make any grand declarations now? It wasn’t exactly an opportune moment. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Justin was still standing in the same spot, in the same pose. His hands were balled tightly into fists, stuffed in his jean pockets. Standing there like that somehow allowed him to keep a lid on things. It was as if he’d managed to mentally push all of his fury into his hands; if he kept them in check he therefore kept himself in check.

Reese saw Trace out of the door, shutting it gently to avoid disturbing Jenna and Daisy. She wasn’t hearing much from up there, so she hoped that meant Daisy was settling down - though she wouldn’t blame Jenna for hiding up there anyway just to try and process things. Her eldest brother might have a heart of gold but he was a hothead and he was old enough to know better. She felt guilty that he’d done this on her behalf. She didn’t care what some moron she’d never met thought of her and she didn’t want him in trouble on her account. Jenna hated this aspect of him and she didn’t like to see her reminded of it. Normally he had it under much better control. Oliver she was angrier with because he wasn’t a hothead. If he’d got caught up in this it was out of some dumb macho pride or simply to follow Dean, and she expected better of him.

Drake… she didn’t know how she felt about Drake right now. She’d been so full of gratitude and appreciation for him earlier that evening. He hadn’t been in a great mood after announcing his news – that his mother had found out about the wedding and was threatening to show up – but she’d had to press on with telling him she wanted to leave anyway. She loved him for the way he’d still handled it so well. He hadn’t looked thrilled, had asked a lot of questions and raised a lot of objections (especially since they’d be doing it without much of a safety net), but he’d eventually conceded. He could see how much she wanted it and the important thing was being together, he said. Now he’d ruined it by getting into some dumb fight with her family, and over what? Why hadn’t he taken his idiot friend away instead of trying to defend him?

When she moved back into the room, she could see Justin was brooding on something. His hands were stuffed into his jean pockets and his jaw tense. His shoulders were hunched in so tightly that his unzipped leather jacket had almost closed itself round his body; you could only see the faintest glimmer of the grey t-shirt beneath.

“I’m going to leave too. Do you want me to drive you to your mom’s and we can talk on the way?”

“If you wouldn’t mind that’d be great, thanks.”

His words and his tone were too careful. The usual rhythm of his speaking was off, too slow. That should have warned her that maybe it was safer to have the conversation there, where Jenna’s presence would restrain things. Normally she might have, but she was understandably preoccupied. Instead she found a pad and pen and left a note for Jenna on the table.

It never crossed her mind that the night could possibly have more to dump on her.

“So…” Reese said once they’d got underway. “You wanted to speak to me? Is that why you’re back?”

“Yes, then yes and no.” Justin propped his elbow against the car door and laid his head in his hand, scratching nervously at the back of his head. The car smelled like it had recently been detailed, something like soap was in the air. “I came back because I wanted to speak to you, but that’s not what I want to talk to you about now.”

“Umm… okay.”

The streets were dark and quiet as they moved steadily on towards the Harless house. It was in the opposite direction from the house she rented with Drake, but it was closer to her parents’ place. She was spending the last couple of evenings before the wedding there, wasn’t due until tomorrow, but after this evening’s stunt she was going to add an extra night to her stay.

“Well where do you want to start?” She said.

Justin’s focus fell on Reese’s hands rather than her face. She was too busy driving to meet his eyes anyway, but he found himself watching her fingers on the wheel. He’d always liked her hands. It was one of those silly things you noticed about your other half. It had no rhyme or reason - you just liked it. He liked her hands, same as he liked the way she lined up her shoes in height order on the closet floor. He liked her long eyelashes and the amusing way her voice started squeaking when she was nervous. He liked the annoyed pout her upper lip went into when people called her his childhood sweetheart (she objected, said they weren’t because they’d hooked up as adults). It was the small things that stuck on you.

“I know I’m risking pissing you off by saying this, but I have a real problem with your boyfriend’s behaviour this evening.”

Reese breathed in and out. Once again her instinct was to go on the defensive, but was she really in a position to argue? Besides, they agreed not to be that way with each other any more. Instead she tried to keep her tone measured.

“Oh?”

“When that asshole friend of his said that shit about you, he didn’t say a thing about it to the guy. Just defended and excused him. I’m not okay with that.”

It rankled with her too, but since she was pre-warned of Shane’s behaviour she could let it go. She could understand that for Drake knowing what Shane was like would take the sting out of it.  

“You don’t think maybe he was just trying to get the guys to back off first?”

“Maybe. And I’m not saying he needed to go swing for the guy in Dean’s place.” Justin swallowed hard. That was what he thought but it wouldn’t help to tell her that. “But for him to not so much as tell him that he was out of line? I have a serious issue with that, Reese. Nobody who loves you should ever be letting that go unchecked.”

Reese slowed the car in order to take a left turn, unnecessarily flicking on her indicator even though there was nobody around to need the signal.

“I could remind you that you’ve said some pretty mean things to me yourself.”

“Not like that,” he replied. “I goaded you a lot, acted snobby, but I never insulted you like that. And even back then I’d have pulverised anybody who spoke about you like that to me. I wasn’t kidding when I said Trace is the only reason I didn’t get into that fight.”

“And what would that have achieved?” She rolled her eyes. Why did so many men in her life think they needed to defend her honour with their fists? If they thought they were being chivalrous they were pitifully mistaken. She could take care of herself without their idiocy.

“Probably nothing, you’re both right, but don’t ask me to stand for it when people talk about you like that. Which I guess is why I’m telling you now; call this my pacifist alternative. He should have spoken up for you.”

“Look, Justin,” she said, taking a glance over at him. The way his face was creased up in concern made her stomach do a little flip. “I get what you’re saying. But I know Drake better than you do, and I really think he would have just been preoccupied with trying to dial things back down. It’s easier for him because he knows Shane’s issue and y’all didn’t. Just like I don’t really care what he said because I already know that. I’m sure he would have bitched him out later.”

“You’re trying to be fair and I get that. But you’ll never convince me that the first thing out of his mouth shouldn’t have been that he was out of line.”

“Can we just leave it at I appreciate you wanting to stick up for me?”

“Okay.”

Silence fell between them. Justin stared out at the darkness ahead, broken up only by the street lamps and the glow from behind people’s curtains. This really hadn’t been how he expected to see her again. The plan of action was only half-formed, but springing himself on her with bad news wasn’t in it. He especially wouldn’t have wanted this moment tied back to her fiancé. He’d been thinking of calling and asking her to meet him or something. That would have been a nice normal approach, rather than interrupting her girls’ night to tell her that her family was probably in jail or the emergency room.

“So… where are the dogs if you’re back here?” Reese broke the pause.

It was such a random question that he could only smile. “I got a sitter in.”

“Oh.” It must have been a soft opener, because she followed it with another. “So why are you here, Justin?”

Justin looked over at her. She was in a white tank and jeans, face and hair un-groomed. It was a familiar picture. They’d done this countless times over many a year. It was only their hair styles and a few laughter lines that had changed. She’d be driving him back to his mom’s from somewhere, dressed very similarly, and the only major difference was that it would be in Dean’s truck or her dad’s old Chevrolet.

“Can we talk about that tomorrow? I don’t want to have that conversation right after this one.”

“My schedule’s rammed for the next forty eight hours and then it’s the big day, so unless you’re willing to wait for another two weeks it’ll have to be now.”

He nodded a grudging acceptance. “Okay then.”

When he didn’t continue, Reese prompted him again. “That would be your cue to tell me why you’re here.”

“I think you probably know, peanut.”

“I thought we weren’t assuming we’re mind readers any more.”

“I think you making that particular comment just proves you do on this occasion.”

“You know I hate it when you do that.”

“What?”

“Put it back on me,” she said. Though she couldn’t look over at him she still arched an eyebrow. “The whole cryptic lead in thing is annoying as hell, Timberlake, always has been.”

She hadn’t been the first to think so on that Tuesday evening, but she’d been the first to voice it. Saying it had more practical effect than Trace’s tacit fuming.

“Alright.” Shifting in his seat, he removed his face from his hand and sat up. “I came back because of the conversation we had before you left.”

“What about it?” It was a real effort to keep her voice even.

“I…umm… this isn’t exactly how I imagined starting this.”

She let out what was supposed to be a laugh. It manifested as more of a strangled bark. “Things haven’t exactly been going how I imagined today either.”

He steeled himself. “I came back because I want us to be together and I got a notion that maybe you still want the same.”

Reese’s knuckles turned white around the steering wheel. It took a few seconds to collect herself to respond. “I’m getting married Friday.”

“Which I’m even less thrilled about after his performance in that bar, but that’s exactly why I needed to do this now or never. You told me you’d think about it, and I’m not here to pressure you but I am here to make it clear I’m serious about this. You and me, peanut, that’s what I want.”

“I, umm… hang on, let’s get out of this damn car.”

Without waiting for his assent Reese pulled over and stopped the vehicle. They weren’t far from Lynn’s house now, but she didn’t want to have this discussion while trying to drive. It was too distracting - last thing she needed was to clip somebody’s wing mirror because she was too busy trying to put off her ex-boyfriend. On opening her door she could see they were by the park. That was helpful; there should be a bench or something close by. They were the wrong side for their spot but they could at least get out into the fresh air. Hopefully it would help her keep a clear head.

Justin followed instructions, getting out and moving around the car to her side. He fell in behind her without speaking as she strode off along the path. They found a bench quite quickly, but she decided to keep walking. With his longer legs he caught up to walk alongside.

“I’m moving back to LA, Justin,” she announced.

“You are?” His stomach did a little somersault of glee. “You mean you got the job?”

“No, actually.” Twigs crunched under her sneakers. “But as it turns out I’m about to be laid off, so I’m going anyway. Bright side is it gives me more time to organise the move than if I’d got it.”

After his initial excitement, an annoying voice of reality was creeping back into his head. If she was still intending on the wedding… “Did you tell him?”

“Not that I went for an interview, no, just said they’d called me about it and I wanted to go back.”

“And?”

“He’s agreed.” That landed like a full body blow. “To the move, to me taking more time to work on my career, all of it.”

“Well… I guess I got to give him credit for that, I never thought he would. But I still don’t think he can be really okay about it, Reese,” he said stubbornly. “I still think that what he wants is to be here, fixing his cars and starting his family and I don’t think either of you are going to be very satisfied with that in a while.”

Her eyes narrowed. Irritation flared up but she suppressed it. There was little good to be had in arguing about Drake right now, especially given that Justin was unimpressed with him already.

“Whereas you of course would be perfectly content with the whole arrangement?”

“One hundred percent, actually.” Justin tugged on her arm, stopping her and turning her to face him. “That’d suit me good. You and me, back where we should be, doing our respective things and getting to take another few years or so to be footloose and fancy free before kids come into the equation. Can you really say that about Drake? Or is he just giving in because he thinks he has to?”

“What, you think I forced him?”

“No. But I bet he took one look at the way you lit up and knew that you would go with or without him.”

“You don’t know that. You don’t know him.”

She wasn’t going to get into the discussion they’d had. It wasn’t Justin’s business, but she believed Drake when he said what was important to him was being where she was. Even more so after the talk they had to have about his mother. It was clearer than ever why marriage and family meant so much to him. It was no small thing to delay their plans; she hadn’t appreciated that enough with Justin and she refused to underestimate it again with Drake. He loved her. He was making sacrifices for her. Drake Turner was an honest to goodness catch and she was lucky to have him. Finally she could admit to herself that she was always going to love Justin Timberlake too, no getting away from it, but she’d made her promises and she would keep them. She wasn’t going to let Drake or her parents or the several dozen guests down at this stage of the game.

“I’ve been him, in that respect. Difference is that with you and me it was just misunderstanding each other. With you and him you fundamentally don’t fit.”

She wouldn’t rise to that either, tempting though it was. “This might be hard for you but I love him.”

It was hard for him. Hearing her say that to his face made the bile rise up in his throat. “Not saying you don’t but it’s not like us, Reese. I’ve loved women other than you but never like you, and I’ll be arrogant enough to say you’re the same. You and me don’t just love each other we’re right for each other.”

“You can still say that, after this last year?”

“This last year proves it for me. It took me long enough but I’ve had to face the fact that everything I’ve done is still all about you, one way or another,” he said with a resigned jut of the chin. “And look how far we’ve come in, what, maybe a few weeks? Even after everything you and I just click into place. Because we fit better together than we ever will with anybody else.”

“You asked me to think about it and I have. I’m getting married. I’m sorry, Justin.”

Lips pressing tightly together, Justin nodded. His eyes found a stray leaf on the floor. “You told me yesterday that I should have followed you before.”

There was an uncomfortable pang in her chest. “That wasn’t what I said.”

“Not in so many words, but you let me know. And I’m not making that mistake twice so here I am, peanut – this time I’ve followed you, I’m here, and I’ll be right here until you actually go through with it. I’m not going to hassle you about it but you know how I feel, and when you realise that you love my dumb ass you know where to find me.”

“I already know I love your dumb ass,” she said with kindness, trying to let him down gently. “Despite the ample reasons you’ve given me not to. I did miss you, though you seriously are a dumb ass,” she added. She still wasn’t completely beyond the odd jab. “But what I’m counting on is getting to LA and it being you, me and Trace again, on you being back to my best friend. I’ll already have a husband.”

“I’m always your best friend, peanut, that’s not even a question,” he said. It was difficult to form the words. He could feel himself getting choked up and was trying to force it back. “But you’re also the love of my life. Please don’t make me watch you marry somebody who’s not going to make you happy.”

“I think maybe we just need to accept that we screwed it up and move on,” she told him gently, picking up his hand and squeezing it in hers.

She was unprepared for him to grasp her waist and pull her body to his. His hands went to the small of her back, holding her there as he dipped his head and kissed her. It was hard to remember exactly how long it had been, yet somehow it felt like no time at all. The same warmth rushed to her ears (she didn’t know why, but it had always been the tips of her ears). It was different to Drake. When Drake kissed her it wasn’t a warm rush; it was a release of tension she didn’t know she’d been holding.  

Breaking the kiss, he moved back to search her face. The pad of his thumb rubbed over her lips. “We need to move on, she says, present tense. Says to me she hasn’t.”

“She says she has.”

The left side of his mouth curled up in a half smile. It was both sceptical and sad at once. “She’s a liar, but she’ll work that out in her own time.”

“She’ll see you in LA in a month or so. And now if you’ve said everything you needed to say, she’ll stop referring to herself in third person and finish driving you to your mom’s.”

“I’m done. For now,” he said.

Reese turned and started walking back towards the car. Her feet felt unnaturally heavy. It didn’t matter that this was her choice and she was settled on it; it still felt horrible to have to reject him like that. For a second Justin watched her retreating back, his heart tying itself into knots in his chest. With a shrug to himself he followed after her, mentally trying to convince the panicked voice in the back of his brain that he was right and she’d soon see it. He had to keep the faith.

Unbeknownst to Reese, there were several missed calls waiting on her phone for her.

‘This is today’s reminder that I’m here.’

With a frown Reese read the message. She distinctly remembered Justin claiming that he wasn’t going to hound her. All the same, it was hard not to appreciate it. It was nice to hear from somebody she wasn’t mad at. She’d had a long and sleepless night at her parents’ house. The reappearance of three sheepish looking siblings in the early hours didn’t help. At least some people had the sense to keep out of that ludicrous fight (even if prompted by Trace).

She was hiding in the back room, pretending to finish the last of the table decorations. There was nothing left to do but it kept her out of her brothers’ way. Dean had gone back to his own home but Oliver of course was staying there and Sam had crashed on the couch. She was also ignoring calls from Drake. He’d gone home to find her not there and realised why, but she wasn’t ready to speak to him yet. She’d got his version from voicemail and text messages instead.

‘You know what we should resurrect?’ She tapped out. ‘The dumb lyrics texts.’

Once upon a time, in a less complicated life, she and Justin used to text each other stupid lyrics they’d heard. It could be lines that were outright ridiculous, or a pun read into something otherwise innocent. His almost always topped hers due to some of the demos passed to him. The messages frequently made her laugh and it would be fun to revive them, but that wasn’t the true motive. She wanted to know what he’d say when she so blatantly ignored his sentiment.

‘Sounds good - how come, did you hear a candidate?’

Oh – so he wouldn’t bat an eyelid. Maybe he’d meant it after all and a single text would be it (or he could simply take a hint). With an evil grin she took the opportunity to tease him.

‘Yes - even though I’m a professional I like to do my work at home.’

The response came at speed. ‘What’s wrong with my lyrics?!’

‘The song’s about sex. You know who has sex professionally JT? Hookers and porn stars.’

‘You’re seriously over thinking it peanut, though I’m glad I’m back on the stereo.’

As a matter of fact Reese hadn’t purposefully played the song. It happened to come up on shuffle; it wasn’t welcome that morning. After such a heavy conversation last night her dreams were full of memories. There was a bizarre portion in which she simultaneously relived both marriage proposals at the same time, as if somebody had mashed them up in a script out of order. Hearing her ex’s singing wasn’t what she needed at this juncture any more than reminders that he wanted her back.

Justin’s proposal was fairly straightforward (at least by his standards). They’d been on vacation in Italy; he jazzed up their Sunday morning ritual by ordering a room service breakfast and sneaking some champagne and the ring onto her tray.  She’d already been on tenterhooks for it so it didn’t come as much of a surprise, lovely as it was. As it turned out she’d got off lightly – apparently there was some elaborate plan involving an ice hotel until he realised that having to sleep in Arctic weather gear would be a passion killer. Drake’s was much more of a bolt from the blue. They’d gone into Memphis to see his friend play and as they danced he whispered ‘I think I want to marry you’ into her ear. She thought he was flirting until he produced the diamond. Both had been equally happy, in different ways, but she didn’t appreciate having them chopped up and blended in her subconscious. That made for a very strange scene.

She appreciated it even less when the dream morphed into a reimagining of the bar fight. Justin and Drake went for each other while her brothers took sides.

There was a knock on the door before it gently opened. A face with close cropped hair and too much stubble appeared. “Is it safe to come in?”

“Depends. Are you the jackass who gave my fiancé a black eye two days before our wedding pictures get taken?”

“I’m really not convinced it was my punch that did his eye.”

“You think you should be trying to joke about that with me right now?”

“Reese, sweetheart, you don’t know what happened,” Oliver pleaded.

“Trace filled me in. Some drunk moron makes one dumb comment and you all decide to go on an alpha male rampage.”

“Trace is a wuss,” Oliver snorted. “At least Justin stuck up for you.”

“Trace is the only damn one of you with a lick of sense!” Reese snapped. “Nobody other than him stopped to think how this would affect me, the person you were supposedly doing this for! How I’d feel about my family beating the crap out of the guy I’m about to marry. You pounded on my boyfriend over nothing, like what some random says about me matters!”

“It matters, sis!” Oliver said, walking over and putting his hands on her shoulders. He rubbed them gently, pleadingly. “You are worth so much more than that and I will stand up against any idiot who insults you any day of the week.”

Reese was not mollified. “How does it matter? He’s some guy who doesn’t know me and is irrelevant in my life.”

“That idiot thought he could say anything about you right to the faces of the people who love you and that it was okay. Worst thing is that in your fiancé’s case he was right!”

“I already had that argument with Justin and I am not having it with you. Y’all didn’t do this for me you did it for your egos, so unless you want to apologise to Drake I don’t want to hear anything else you have to say to me.”

“But Reese…”

“But nothing!”

“Look, even if we took it too far, can’t you see we were looking out for you?”

“If you’d been thinking about me and what was best for me for even a second you would have walked out right along with Trace - this was about your macho pride. Apologise then we’ll talk but in the meantime, Clark is my only brother.”

Oliver’s lips had a slight quiver to them; he was on the verge of bursting into a tirade. What he wanted to do was let loose every objection he had to the guy. It was bad enough that he was a clearly mismatched rebound, but as it turned out he didn’t have a small qualm about hearing her demeaned. He really did not understand why his sister was okay with that. She’d never let anyone else slide over that kind of thing. So why was she so determined to ignore every red flag screaming that the mechanic was a bad idea?

“I will never apologise for demanding that people show my sister some respect, so don’t hold your breath.”

Reese took a sharp breath in, ready to cuss him out, but Oliver quickly turned on his heel and stomped out of the room. Yanking the half opened door out of his way he slammed it into the wall. She was about to get up and go slam it shut after him (her mother’s ire be damned) but a lanky frame stepped into it and blocked her. Sam was still in last night’s clothes, his hands folded in front of him and a forlorn look of contrition on his face. His long hair was lank and matted. It looked like maybe somebody had dumped a beer on his head.

She glared up at him, taking in his split lip. “What, you’ve come to bitch me out too?”

The words cracked like a whip and he winced. “I heard yelling and wanted to make sure you’re okay. Obviously not, I guess.”

“No shit, Sherlock.”

“I’m sorry, Reese, I tried to stop them but I think I made it worse. I’m sorry. Is Drake okay?”

It took all the wind out of her sails. She dropped back down in her chair with a weary huff. “Black eye. He’ll live. Guess I get to have the same argument with him later, which is just what I want us to be doing two days before our wedding. Thanks y’all for that.”

“I really am sorry. They were out of line, and I should have known better than to get involved.”

“Well… at least you were trying to stop it, I guess, even if you failed miserably.”

“Forgive me?”

Sam crouched down to give her a hug and she let him. The smell confirmed her beer theory; he stank of it. “I’ll forgive you if you go home and shower.”

“Deal. So you have two brothers, at least?”

Despite herself she gave a chuckle. There was a mild dash of hysteria to it; stress-laden energy was crackling around her like static. He must have heard her crack about Clark. “One and a half. You still need to apologise to Drake.”

“I will, promise. And now I’m going to get the hell out of your way before you change your mind.”

Well that was more wisdom than he’d shown last night, so at least there was hope for one of them. “Shower!” she called after him.

Her phone beeped again and she picked it up thinking it would be Justin. He did that sometimes, if she didn’t reply when he expected her to he’d send another prompt. It wasn’t him though.

‘So I hear you had some drama last night. Need somebody to bitch with? It’s a traditional MOH duty x’

She’d been avoiding Nadine since she got back, after that strange phone call in the middle of the street. That however was an offer too tempting to pass up.

‘I need to pick up some stuff from my house, meet you there at eleven.’

**

“Men.”

That was Nadine’s summation of the whole sorry affair. Reese had recounted it in a fifteen minute long expletive filled whine. She preferred brevity.

“Tell me about it.” Sometimes, Reese really wished she’d had sisters. “You wouldn’t have punched the guy; you’d have said something really funny that cut him down to size. Which makes me wish you’d been there now.”

“True, would need to be something good though. Something that’d haunt him every time he tried to lie with a woman.”

Reese believed she’d succeed, too. She was fully capable. Trace had accused Nadine of possessing ‘weird voodoo bitch powers’ the last time he found himself on the wrong end of her sharp tongue. It was a fair description. She jokingly blamed it on the red hair, said it made her fiery, but she was just a witty and self-possessed woman. There was no way she’d have ever stood for it but she wouldn’t need to so much as raise her voice. It was her combination of fierce intelligence and thick skin. Reese both feared and admired it - having a friend so brutally blunt was all very well unless you became the target.

Nadine was helping her go through her things and what she’d need for Friday. She’d always planned to stay with her parents from tonight onwards, but last night had been unexpected. What she needed was to pack for the honeymoon, find clothes for tomorrow, and make sure she had all jewellery and make up and any other items she needed for the big day. It was more time efficient to complain while attending to the packing.

“Drake still wants him at the wedding so you’ll get your chance.”

She eventually picked up the phone to Drake shortly after Nadine texted. The conversation was abrupt and unpleasant. Though she defended him to everyone else, she was still angry at him both for failing to defend her and also for getting into any fight. As far as she was concerned he equally needed to apologise. Drake saw himself as equal to Sam in the situation, somebody who’d just tried to stop it, but that didn’t match her siblings’ stories. Maybe it started that way but at some stage he got in it as much as them. That seriously displeased her, for the same reason that she was mad with Oliver. And in Drake’s case it wasn’t even nominally on her account – it was for his foul-mouthed friend.

“Drake considers that wise, when Ollie is still raging?”

“To hell with Oliver,” Reese said with a dark scowl. “But yeah, I wasn’t impressed. It’ll just create an atmosphere with them all. Still, with the move I majorly owe him one so…”

“Yeah, about that.”

“What?” Reese glanced up from the t-shirts she was folding.

“If I ask you a question will you answer honestly?”

“Of course.”

“I don’t think you were at a spa Monday. I think you were in LA about a job. Am I right?”

Reese ran a hand over her forehead, pushing hair back over her face. “How did you work it out?”

Nadine ticked the reasons off on her fingers. “You missed the fitting, so I knew whatever it was had to be huge. You sounded so freaked out when I called, and like I said I could hear all that traffic. I knew something was up, and it seemed way too much of a coincidence that you had this chat with your old bosses and decided that you wanted to go back so quick. I figured there had to have been more to it… then I remembered that my least favourite person just so happened to have flown home on Sunday, same day you disappeared and voila! It all fell into place.”

Even the oblique mention of Justin made Reese tense up. She was waiting for the diatribe about how terrible he was and how she should have nothing to do with him.

“Why didn’t you tell anybody?”

“Didn’t want to hear the objections. Besides, this close to the wedding I didn’t want to start drama over nothing if I decided I wasn’t interested. I didn’t mean to miss the fitting though, I just screwed up the planning.”

“But you are interested, and you’re going.” Nadine matched pairs of clean socks as she talked, stuffing them into the bottom of the case.

“Yep.”

“How’d Drake take it?”

“Like I said – I owe him big.”

“How’d Timberlake take it?”

Her voice was laced with sly nonchalance but Reese knew her game. There was a hook beneath that bait. “Justin’s happy for me, thinks it’s the right move.”

“Is that all he’s thinking?” Nadine arched an eyebrow.

“Nade…”

“What’s he doing back here?”

She fought not to roll her eyes. She’d known this would start, which was why she’d avoided her to begin with. “We had a pretty difficult talk before I left and he still had some stuff he didn’t want to say on the phone. It’s all fine. I’ll be hanging out with him and Trace once I’m back in the city.”

“I bet Drake’ll love that.”

“Drake doesn’t get to pick my friends. Neither do you,” she said with a pointed glance.

“I just don’t understand how you’ve gone from hating his guts to being his friend again so quick,” she said with a confused blink. “After what he did to you?”

“I didn’t really hate him; I was hurt. You’ll never understand, Nade, because you do genuinely hate his guts,” she replied. “Can you please just accept that I got an apology and an explanation that made sense to me and that I felt was forgivable?”

“If I must. Still think he’s an asshole and you’re better off without him.”

“So you keep telling me. Can you go grab my earrings out of the dresser? It’s the blue box in the top drawer.”

Nadine obliged, unsatisfied but knowing better than to push the topic. There would never be a good time but now would be one of the poorer choices. From the moment she’d arrived the woman’s features were moulded into a steady frown. It only left her face to make way for scowling. You’d have to be an idiot to pick this as the moment to argue a thorny issue.

Nadine pulled open the drawer – a large piece of paper was obscuring the contents so she picked it up to begin rummaging. The blue box was immediately obvious. She grabbed it and was about to put the paper back when a sentence caught her attention. As she started reading, her eyes widened.

“What’s that?”

“Oh, nothing.” She put it back in the drawer and shut it behind her.

“You’re a bad liar. What is it?”

“Alright, alright - Drake’s vows, which is why you shouldn’t see it.”

Reese hadn’t even thought about writing her vows. They’d plumped for the traditional ones and were only going to add a short few lines themselves. She’d probably do it off the cuff; it would only be a quick ‘I love you’ and the usual about beginning their lives together. Curiosity got the better of her, but she rationalised it as needing to know how long to make hers to match. She marched over to the dresser, stuck her tongue out at Nadine and opened the drawer. Drake’s spiky letters had been crossed out and scribbled over several times, so it took some concentration to read.

“What?” Nadine studied her face, surprised to see it dropping.

“I don’t know, it just… wow.”

“You don’t like them? I mean I didn’t read it all but what I saw I thought was sweet.”

“It is sweet. Think I just had some weird preconception or something - I don’t know what I expected but it’s strange to actually see them.” Reese waved a dismissive hand and put the paper back where she’d found it. Clearly her mother was right when she said snoops always found things they didn’t want to see. “I’ll be too busy checking him out in the tux to notice much of what he’s saying anyway,” she joked.

“Shallow, but true. A man who looks good in a tux can be forgiven a lot of things.”

“Including nearly breaking my brother’s wrist,” she said. That was why they were so late coming back; Dean needed a trip to x-ray. Luckily it was a bad sprain not a break. “Though Drake swears that wasn’t him. Funny enough Ollie also swears it wasn’t him who clocked Drake in the eye - it’s amazing how none of these injuries seem to have an actual culprit, and yet there they all are with their busted faces. It’s like magic.”

“I repeat – men.” Nadine snorted.

“Men.”

It could have been a scene from a movie if it hadn’t been so imperfect. The lighting was right – just enough soft daylight was coming through the shutters to illuminate the room. The staging was impeccable. The room had a beach hut feel to it with its white wood furniture, dark wood floors and bright coloured decorations. Crisp cotton sheets gave the tiniest rustle as he shifted on the mattress.

What wasn’t so Hollywood was the two of them. One hand to his face told him he needed a shave – God only knew what his slightly too long hair looked like. His companion was lying next to him, scant inches between them, with her legs half curled up towards her chest. She’d gathered up so much of the covers in her clutches that he couldn’t quite pull the remainder over himself. The edge of the sheet barely skimmed the mattress and he could feel air circulating around that side of his body. Dark hair fanned out across the pillow in a haphazard mess, a slight frizz making odd strands stick up at angles. Features slack with sleep made her look a little older than she was, hinting at a slight frown. One cheek was smashed into the pillow.

As he watched her he thought it was his favourite sight in a long while, but he was a little strange like that.

Finally she started stirring, cracking one eye open before smiling shyly at him.

“Morning.”

“Morning.” His fingers brushed her shoulder before trailing along her arm. “Sleep good?”

“Mmmhmm.” That was as much of an assent as Reese could muster. Stretching her legs out, still sleepy, she didn’t say anything else. As she shifted back into her previous position he imagined she curled up a little closer, but other than that there was no indication of her mood.

It didn’t take long before he cracked in the silence. Mouth stretching into a grin, he gave a low chuckle. “I feel like I should be saying something but I don’t know what.”

“Mark it down, ladies and gentlemen; JT’s finally got nothing to say. Oww,” she giggled as he poked an index finger into her arm.

“Don’t I keep telling you that you’re not funny?”

“And we both know it’s a lie, so, whatever.”

There was a continual compulsion to keep reaching out and touching her. Justin wasn’t sure why – maybe to convince himself it was real? It had truly happened? Whatever the reason he reached out his hand yet again and smoothed down her snarled hair. His fingers came to rest on her cheek. When she turned her mouth into his palm he took that as a sign of approval.

“You know what’s weird? Besides me, before you be a smart ass?”

He had correctly pre-empted that comment. “No. What’s weird?” Reese replied in a sing-song monotone lilt, like a class full of kids answering the teacher in unison.

“This isn’t weird.”

Her eyes flicked downwards, long lashes fluttering. The gaze that fixed on his tattooed bicep was now uneasy. “You thought it would be?”

“Wasn’t sure.”

It was all very well kissing your childhood best friend in your childhood meet up spot, but where to go from there was a challenge. Justin didn’t help matters by having to leave for promotion. His absence left Reese to travel back to her new apartment and await his return. The apprehension was mutual. They continued to text as they always did when apart but the whole subject took on something of a taboo. Both of them glossed over it, acting as if nothing had changed. Neither wanted to be first to bring it up but the question remained – was it a blip or was there something to be made of it?

On his return Justin tried to ask Reese out on a real date. Whether or not he’d succeeded depended on how you measured success. The foremost thought in his mind was to play it cool, so if you judged by that he’d done well. The problem was he’d played it so cool it left her in serious doubt of whether it was even a date. When you looked at it from the angle of getting her to knowingly agree to go out with him, it was a bit of a disaster.

Reese couldn’t even seek advice from anyone. Nadine hated him. Trace on learning of the kiss declared that he was staying out of it. None of her new friends had earned that level of trust yet. If he hadn’t been famous she would have asked, but she really needed to know somebody well before she felt safe talking about anything Justin-related. She never wanted to be the ‘source close to Timberlake’ even if it was unwittingly.

Still Reese agreed to meet him for dinner and a movie. She agreed despite having no idea what it was supposed to be. The actual occasion Justin played better. It was small things: glances that held for too long, little brushes of his hand against hers that were new. When he leaned down to ask if she wanted popcorn it was closer than before. He guided her along with a hand on her back that wouldn’t previously go there.

At the end of the night when she invited him in to see her new place for the first time it wasn’t with the intention of him staying. In no time at all an electric mood took over and now here they were, waking up in the same bed. The last time they’d done that it had been pre-puberty, before they’d left footie pyjamas behind.

“Hmm.”

The tone was non-committal and gave away nothing. It was the way she avoided his eyes that told him it hadn’t gone over as intended. He’d been teasing but had he worried her? Justin yanked the sheet out from her arms and pulled it over himself properly, removing the barrier it formed between them. He burrowed in further under it, bringing his face level with hers and shifting closer. He was now right in her eye line. She could feel his breath on her face.

“So I, uhh…” he said, voice lowered as if he thought someone would overhear. “That was me totally fishing for some hint that you’re as happy as I am about this.”

“Heh.” The way her lips stretched back out was somehow both bashful and knowing. Now hazel eyes looked into blue ones. “Maybe I should let you sweat it a little longer.”

“We’ve known each other too long for the hard to get bull so let’s just skip it.”

Justin reached out once more. This time it was to gather her into his embrace and close the gap between them. Where their bodies met he felt a ticklish flush creeping along the surface of his skin. The way it felt like she’d always been there when she nestled into the crook of his arm took him by surprise. Reese smiled at him again and it was impossible not to grin back.

“Then I’m glad too,” she said.

Was it really this easy? How had he missed this? It was probably around nineteen that he started to notice her as an attractive woman, not just a friend, but he never thought anything could come of it. They both dated other people and the issue never arose, so as far as he knew the attraction was one-sided. If asked he’d always claimed that they’d been friends too long for this to happen – even as he’d glanced sideways at her and thought that actually he wouldn’t mind. Why had it taken him years to work out that she was doing the same, that this was a possibility?

“I’m glad you’re glad.”

His hand ran up her back and he was emboldened to press his lips to hers. For a few moments it was a brief series of little kisses, but as Justin’s mouth went to tease hers open Reese ducked her head away.

“Sorry, I have total morning breath.”

“Let me tell you something about men, peanut,” Justin said with a condescending school teacher tone.

She rolled her eyes but knew it was best to get this over with. “What’s that?”

“If a guy’s got you naked next to him and gives even the tiniest shit about your morning breath…” His lips met her shoulder. “He’s a stupid bastard.”  

All thoughts of such inanities as tooth brushing soon fled as he kissed her again and her limbs developed wills of their own. Her arms wound tighter around him, one leg hooked over his, and Reese blissfully sank into surrender.

**

Justin was yanked out of his daydreaming (some would call it brooding) by a discreet finger poked in his ribs. It was extremely well done, delicate yet inescapable. You couldn’t ignore it.

“Earth to Pop Star,” Sarah said with a teasing smile.

“Sorry, I was miles away.” He returned the amiable expression and picked up the beer he’d neglected, taking a sip.

In truth he’d rather not have company but the LA gang had all arrived. Since they’d never seen the homestead before, they demanded to be shown around. Reese was too busy prepping for the big day tomorrow but he suspected they’d still have hit him up anyway. They weren’t all as subtle as Sarah and it was clear the group thought he needed distracting. As much as he appreciated the thought (his mother shared it) he would have preferred solitude.

His final little reminder message went out to Reese that morning but he hadn’t expected a reply. He didn’t get one. Now he wondered exactly what he was supposed to do. It felt like his thoughts had all come together in one big messy soup, and it was hard to sift through them.

Certainly he had to respect her choice; that much was plain. But what did you do when you firmly expected your friend’s marriage to go up in smoke before long? Setting aside his own wishes, he still thought Reese would be better off single than with Drake Turner. Was he to bite his tongue and say nothing? How was he going to deal with seeing them together all the time? How did he cope with knowing that in the end she hadn’t chosen him? How was he supposed to let go of the toxic piece of hope that wanted to just stick around and wait for her anyway, married or not?

At least the gang possessed enough sensitivity to avoid the topic of the wedding. Tiffany’s husband Ben made one cheery comment about having the gang back together, referring to the move, but that was about it. Trace had smoothly moved the chat back to how Steve’s physiotherapy sessions were going. (It was atypical conversational dexterity for him). Justin was honestly making an effort to give the group his attention, but his mind kept wandering back. The loudest thought was whether or not he should fly home tomorrow. He didn’t want to seem like he was running away but saw little point in staying to hear how it went.

“So what’s next once you come back to Cali?” Sarah asked. She could practically see him thinking too hard and was determined to break him out of his own head.

“I don’t know.” Justin gave a shrug, pushing his shirt sleeves back up to his elbows. “My manager was talking about a couple of club shows, but I don’t know if I’m in the music zone.”

“So that usually means movies, right?” She asked. “Anything you’re considering?”

“There’s this thriller about a rookie lawyer who realises his new firm’s laundering money for a cartel, but… I don’t know. I’m in that annoying space where I won’t know what I want until I see it.”

“Tell me about it.” She pulled a face and let out a puff of air that pushed her bangs from her forehead. “I vetoed three perfectly serviceable pitches yesterday for no good reason. I’ll just know when it’s put in front of me.”

“Exactly.” He nodded and took another swig of beer. He wasn’t truly in the mood but it was ordered and put in front of him so he was drinking it anyway.

“Like I keep saying, you should just go join SNL for a season.”

Justin chuckled, shaking his head and giving her a smirk. “Give it up.”

“You should though! You’re the only time it’s funny any more.”

“And that novelty would wear right off if I was there every week, for me and everyone else.”

“What about TV in general though?” Sarah pressed on, determined not to lose him again now she’d got him engaged.

“Nah. Signing up to anything that long isn’t smart when for all I know I could suddenly get a music itch on. Can’t sit on it while I finish up a season on a show, if I don’t record then and there I lose it.”

“So what you’re saying is you’re a commitment phobe?” She teased.

That was the wrong thing to say, though she didn’t know why. It was still certain that she’d lost him. Although he looked down at his hands and laughed, head still facing towards her, his eyes were far away again. Growing up with media training taught him how to keep his expression guarded and his cards close to his chest, but nonetheless there was something stormy visible in the blue eyes.

“If you want to put it that way. Excuse me a second.”

Easing his tall frame out of the chair, he shoved his hands in his pockets and walked back outside. Mercifully the porch was near empty. There was only one pair of smokers huddled in the opposite corner. Reaching for the packet stashed in his back pocket Justin pulled out the box and his lighter. Plucking a cigarette out, he played with the items in his hands rather than actually lighting up.

Eventually he did light it, stuffing the rest of the paraphernalia back into his jacket. He sucked in a deep breath of the acrid smoke. It wasn’t good for his voice but there was something mind clearing about it. Standing outside, noise of the restaurant behind him, all he needed to concentrate on was breathing it in and then blowing it out.

His pocket vibrated and with his spare hand he reached in for his phone. His eyebrows creased together when he saw her name on the screen.

‘Did you tell the *NSYNC guys about tomorrow?’ Her message asked. He’d mentioned it on the group message trail then thought better of it, too late to cancel the sending.

‘Yeah. Was I not supposed to? Lol.’ That was his best attempt at keeping it breezy. He doubted it would fool her for a second.

‘I just got congrats texts from Chris and Lance, hadn’t heard from them in forever!’

Justin tried to ignore the unreasonable voice in his head branding them traitors. They’d known Reese a long time and of course they’d wish her luck. ‘That’s cool of them. Good luck tomorrow, I’ll see you when you get to LA x.’

It was such an innocuous sentence, but it said everything. It was his admission of defeat. It was an implied plea for her to not say any more and let him back away with what little dignity remained to him.

Mercifully she heeded it.

**

“Reese, honey?”

“Yeah?” She looked over towards the door where her mother was standing. She hadn’t been doing much – perching on her window seat, staring out at the inky blackness of the backyard. Through the dark you could still make out the shape of their old tree house. As a kid she frequently sneaked in there. Dean and Oliver declared it a boys-only zone so had to be proven wrong.

“Dad and I are going to bed. If you’re not already up in the morning I’ll wake you.”

“Ha, not sure I’ll sleep anyway,” she joked.

“Excitement will do that.”

The feeling seemed far more like nerves than excitement. She just smiled at her mom. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Night baby, love you.”

“Love you too,” she replied as her mother shut the door.

How were you supposed to feel the night before your wedding? What was anticipation and what was trepidation? Why was she still fretting about the vows she wasn’t supposed to have read? Why did she spend the evening picking faults in flawless plans and imagining several increasingly improbable disasters befalling the day? Why was she feeling bad about Justin’s last message, even though it was exactly the subtle reassurance she needed from him that they’d still be friends? Why did she feel like she’d drunk several cups of coffee in the last hour? Her entire body was buzzing. More than once she caught herself starting to pick at her nails, endangering the neat manicure so painstakingly done earlier that day.

She was being absurd. Everything would be okay. Drake had given his notice at the garage. Oliver had finally (if resentfully) apologised and promised he would avoid Shane. The dress hem was now perfect. Her friends had all arrived in town and sent her an avalanche of good luck messages. Nadine and Jenna would be at the house first thing in the morning. She was marrying a wonderful man who loved her and that she loved. Everything she’d so carefully planned for the last few months was coming together beautifully. Her entire life was coming together neatly.

Yanking out her phone, she tapped out a brief message and hit ‘send.’ The reply was swift.

‘Sure I can. Where?’

“As bachelorette parties go this is definitely the weirdest.”

“Definitely more sober than yours.”

“Hey!” Tiffany elbowed Reese with an indignant giggle. “You’re all the alcoholics, not me.”

“Oh I’ve seen you put it away, missy. Don’t act all innocent.”

“Usually aided and abetted by you. It’s a damn good job my bachelorette was a week before.”

“Don’t blame me, blame Shauna. All her idea.”

“Yeah, yeah. You can’t weasel out of it.”

Tiffany stole a fleeting look at Reese as they walked along. Nothing much had been said yet but she was waiting for it. You couldn’t imagine for a second that the woman purely wanted a walking companion. She’d received the text, agreed to meet her friend at the park, and after getting directions from the barman slipped away from the group. Mercifully it wasn’t far. Walking on your own in a strange town at night was uncomfortable even when only a few blocks.

Reese never asked who she’d been with. Tiffany wouldn’t volunteer the information. Sarah wasn’t the only one who spotted their superstar looking down in the mouth, but it was none of her business. She didn’t think the woman needed to hear about her ex at this juncture. Whatever this was, she doubted it was about him. Jokingly she’d described it as a bachelorette party, but what she actually suspected was some kind of cold feet crisis. For five minutes now they’d been conversing with feigned cheerfulness. Surely she’d crack soon.

It wasn’t long. They reached a playground and Tiffany followed her as she went to sit on one of the swings. Whether Reese always had this destination in mind she didn’t know, but since she wasn’t in walking shoes she was grateful. Her friend was clad in jeans and comfortable sneakers; she was wearing a tunic dress and loafers. They were flat but too tight for protracted walking. She’d probably have blisters – thank goodness tomorrow’s heels were open-backed sandals.

“Speaking of things I can’t weasel out of…”

“Hmm, is this a point I’m finally seeing on the horizon?” She teased with a gentle smile.

“What, I couldn’t just want to see you?”

“You could, but night before your wedding you have better things to do.”

“You got me. Wedding’s what I want to talk to you about.”

“So shoot.” Tiffany rocked the swing back and forth with her heels. “What’s on your mind?”

“I don’t know. I guess you’re the only one of my really close friends who’s married and I have no idea if the jumbled mess in my head is normal.”

“Swear you won’t tell anyone?”

“Swear.”

“I spent the day before my wedding totally nauseous. After a while it was so obvious my mom point blank asked me if it was morning sickness.”

“Really?” Reese’s abiding memory of Tiffany as a bride was her remarkably tranquil attitude.

“Yep.” She brushed a strand of glossy black hair back behind her ear. “Some point the day before it just hit me how huge it was. I didn’t sleep, and I felt sick to my stomach right up until I saw his face.”

“And then you just knew it would be alright?”

“Cheesy but yeah.” Her lips curled in a smile. “It’s normal to be nervous - even though it’s amazing it’s still a big step, after all. I didn’t tell anybody though because I was worried they’d all panic or think I wanted to cancel or something. It wasn’t that, I just had a little bit of a freak out.”

“And you didn’t tell Ben because it sounds really bad to be like ‘hey honey, I was shitting bricks marrying you.’ I can understand that.”

“Charming as always, sweetie.” Tiffany’s leg reached out to give her friend a kick on the shin. “But yes. Are you asking because you know the feeling?”

“Your turn to promise you won’t tell?”

“Promise.”

Reese breathed in, wondering where to start. Looking around the dark playground, she felt a childish urge to start playing on the equipment. Climb the frame, try the monkey bars (she’d never been good at those), or run up the slide. At this point she was ready to do anything to spend the pent up energy. Her muscles were so tight she felt they might ping back at any second, like overstretched elastic.

“Ever since the funeral everything’s all shaken up.”

“Because of moving back?” She asked.

“Yeah. I was worried how Drake would take it, and how it would be with things still being weird with Justin, but as it turns out that’s all fixed. Drake’s fine, it’s kind of unbelievable after everything but Justin’s also fine, everything is falling into place.”

“So what’s wrong?”

“Exactly,” Reese said. The question was its own answer. “Something still feels off, but I don’t know why and it’s making me feel like it’s sitting there waiting to sneak up on me tomorrow. But I don’t know what are normal bride jitters and what’s a red flag.”

That must be why she wanted the advice of a married friend. Tiffany understood that, but not the problem or how to help. Unless Reese omitted some crucial piece of context everything sounded like it was shaping up great.

“You know, honey…” She shook her head, hands gripping tight as she pushed herself further back. “These are the moments I really miss Harmony. You know she’d just roll on in here and magically get it.”

“Nah.” Rather than swinging Reese simply rested her head against her hand where it held the chain. “That was her whole trick. She didn’t actually know. She would ask all these questions and coax it out of you, then take all the credit and gratitude like she came up with it herself.”

Tiffany let out a sad laugh. “Really?”

“Oh yeah. Sneaky that way.”

“Now you say it that sounds like her, always something up her sleeve.” She glanced up at the sky, as if she’d see Harmony’s face there. “Lucky she was such a good heart or we’d have all been in trouble. She was smart enough she could’ve made a real diabolical fiend.”

“I wish she was here.”

“Me too.”

“Is it silly if I say that was the other reason I texted?” Reese said. “I was sitting in my room wishing I could call her and ask about all this crap. She’d have wheedled it out of me.”

“I’m a pretty poor substitute but I’ll give it a shot,” she offered. Her eyebrows knitted together as she tried to imagine where Harmony might have started. Knowing her friend so well didn’t necessarily mean she could do a good impression. Their minds didn’t think the same way.

“So you don’t think I’m a whiny idiot with first world problems?”

She made a sharp snort. “You’re an over-thinker, not a whiner.”

“Notice you didn’t deny the first world problems.”

“You’re about to marry some hot guy and move to find the job of your dreams. It doesn’t exactly suck to be you, in the big scheme of things.”

Now it was Reese’s turn to giggle, unable to suppress it even as she tried to look offended. “You have no idea what a Nadine comment that was.”

“I know I’ve only met her a couple of times but she always seemed like a smart cookie,” Tiffany replied. “But focus, girlie, tell me what’s bothering you.”

“Didn’t we establish already that I don’t know?” Her voice was dry.

Pushing from the ground with her feet, she started to swing. Previously she’d sat and rocked a little, now she was going for it. Something about the motion was relaxing. Maybe it was the childhood throwback, a memory of simpler times when all she had to worry about was getting high enough to satisfy Dean’s taunting before she jumped. He would call her chicken, as older brothers were wont to do, but after a certain height sprained ankles were likely. Staying safe but not losing face was her biggest problem in those days.

“How about you just tell me something that’s bugging you? Doesn’t matter if it’s the big issue or not, just anything that comes to mind. Like a warm up.”

“Warm up bitching… I can do that…” Now she was putting her back into it and gaining height. Tiffany started to follow suit, though she wasn’t exerting herself as much. “Okay, that dumb friggin’ fight they all had.”

“Good start; that sounded ridiculous. What’s still getting at you about it?”

“Drake and Ollie, because they clearly only apologised to each other to shut me up. Ollie’s doing a shitty job of hiding it.” Her mouth pulled into an irritated scowl. “And they’re both being passive aggressive around each other now. So that bugs me.”

“Any particular reason, besides the fact that nobody likes passive aggressive bull shit?”

That was a good question. She had to pause for a moment. “Because Oliver doesn’t like Drake.”

The specificity was interesting. “And that’s it?”

“Yeah, I guess so.” Reese stopped kicking her legs, letting gravity do the work as she mulled the thought over. “I guess he and I have just always been so close, it feels really weird to have him disapprove of something this big. I mean, not that he needs to approve, but it bothers me.”

“Has he said why?”

Her eyebrows rose, letting her friend know it was a silly question. “No. Far too adult, better to just stew on it then punch somebody.”

“But you’re not so worried about it the other way around?”

“No.” She shrugged. “Drake barely knows him, just has him figured wrong.”

“But equally…Oliver barely knows Drake.”

“But he knows me. He should trust me.”

Tiffany could almost swear that she heard a bell ring in the back of her head, like they were on a game show and it signalled a correct answer. This seemed noteworthy. Unfortunately she had no idea how it might be significant but she was pleased to identify it nonetheless. (If Harmony could see them right now Tiffany imagined she’d be the viewer screaming at the contestants for not getting the obvious answer).

“Okay, that was good, I feel like that was a good vent. Try another one, what else has happened this week?”

There was no power in the universe that could make Reese mention the Timberlake saga. Pertinent though it was she had no idea what (if anything) Justin had shared with their friends. He had his pride and would find it humiliating if people were to pity him. He could tell who he was comfortable with and she wouldn’t take offence but she wouldn’t set him up for that. Though it was a big part of her worry – she felt guilty and like she’d let him down, which was ridiculous when you compared it to some of his past behaviour – she wasn’t ready to talk that one over.

“Well… I have another one, but you’re definitely going to think I’m a whiny idiot this time.”

“I’ll take the risk.”

Reese started brushing her feet against the ground, using the friction to slow down. “I found Drake’s vows.”

“And what, they were bad?” Her eyes widened.

“No, that’s the thing. They were really sweet so I have no idea why it’s needling at me. Maybe they just weren’t what I expected or it made the wedding hit home? It was just…unsettling. Which itself is unsettling.”

“What did they say?”

“That I’m smart and beautiful and funny and he loves me.”

“Oh yeah, sounds terrible so far.” It was lucky Tiffany’s swing was still in motion or Reese might have reached out to pinch her for that.

“It was this thing about how he pictures coming home to find me with our baby and living down the street from all the family and raising our kids in the way that brought up a woman like me, and how lucky he feels to be joining that. It was lovely, and I know I’m the dumbest wench in all the world for freaking out about it.”

This time she planted her feet right down and brought the swing to a complete stop. It twisted with the sudden halt, nearly sending her into the path of Tiffany’s. 

“God this whole thing really is just dumb; you must think I’m such a moron dragging you out here for this.”

“You’re not dumb, sweetie.” Tiffany was biting the inside of her cheek. That bell sound had gone off in her head again but this time she had more of a clue.

“That’s a tone.”

“No tone.” It would have been more convincing without the squeak.

“That was even more of a tone. What is it?” Reese was also gnawing at herself with her teeth, her upper lip rather than her cheek.

“It’s nothing.”

“Why do people say that when clearly it’s something?” Her hands slapped against her thighs in exasperation.

“Probably because they don’t want to land themselves in shit if the other person doesn’t like what they hear.”

“Come on, you’re my friend, you know you have immunity.”

“Which everybody always says, right up until you tell them something they don’t want to hear. Or until they decide later that they’re going against your advice and start being funny with you because they know what you think.” Tiffany’s swing now came to a stop. Her arms folded across her chest in a defensive pose.

“I swear to God, Tiff. There is nothing you can say about it that’s going to make me mad at you. Hand on heart.” Reese placed a palm over her chest.

“Alright, but I’m not taking the blame if you hate it.” She took in a deep breath, shoulders hunching up as she did so. “That whole thing is just wrong. There you go.”

What did you do when you felt sucker punched? You made a weak joke. “You mean I’m not smart and gorgeous?”

“Besides that part,” Tiffany replied with an affectionate but pointed look. “It is really sweet, but I already told you before my feeling about you and soccer mom life. It’s not you, honey - and you know that which is obviously why it bothers you.”

“You really think that’s it?”

Reese thought the look on her face must have been disturbing, because Tiffany started scrambling to mitigate what she’d said.

“I’m not saying it’s, like, a huge problem, I bet he wrote that before you guys agreed to change your plans anyway. I only mean that’s probably why it made you uncomfortable, because you just went through all that with him and I know you were really worried. It probably just pushed that button again.”

“Yeah.” After a brief pause for thought, she repeated it with more conviction. “Yeah, that makes sense. That is exactly what I’ve spent the last week or so obsessing over… and after all that it was almost hard to believe he agreed so easy.”

“That was exactly what I meant.”

“Yeah, that’s probably exactly it. I just need to get a grip and stop waiting for things to go wrong.”

Tiffany exhaled the breath she’d been holding, trying not to make the relief too audible. “Yeah, I agree. Makes sense.”

Reese tipped her head back, looking up at the sky once more. It was too cloudy to see any stars - noticing that made her think of Sam’s telescope.

“So as far as coaxing it out of me goes I think that was a job worthy of Harm.”

“Ha.” She shook her head. “She’d cuss up a storm, use a bunch of big words to call me crappy at it and tell me to leave the talking to her in future.”

“Yeah… did you ever notice that she always mixed up cussing with these fancy words she’d never normally use?”

Grateful to have dodged the ire she’d thought was coming her way (she still half expected Reese to shoot the messenger), Tiffany latched onto the change of topic. Besides, she’d love to talk about their friend. The more time went on, the more she found that actually she liked to talk about Harmony. To begin with it was too painful. With a little distance from the funeral her perspective changed. A lot of people avoided the subject, worried that they’d make her cry, but more and more she found herself wishing people would talk about her.

“I think she thought that if she sounded smart it somehow cancelled out the potty mouth.”

Reese smiled. She too was eager. In part because she’d found herself missing Harmony so acutely earlier, but she equally wanted a change of topic. Having been so keen to dissect her issues, now they’d hit on the problem she wanted it banished. It sounded so pathetic when you said it out loud. It was nothing she didn’t know. Drake already addressed it. They’d agreed everything. The piece of paper changed nothing and wasn’t nearly as momentous as she’d built it up to be. This evening’s wobble felt like the reactive and blinkered Reese of the last year, not the considered and confident one she was trying to get back to.

“There’s no dictionary big enough. When she got going she was almost as bad as Dean, and that’s saying a lot.”

“Wouldn’t know, only met Sam before.”

“I mean, you know I like my f bombs, but she said words that made me want to wash my own mouth out just hearing ‘em.”

“Ha, you still win though for when you called JT ‘the most fucking motherfucker of a fucking fuckhead.’ I can’t even remember what he did to provoke it but it was glorious.”

She felt a pang in her stomach; that would be the guilt again.

“It was his birthday, remember? He ignored me all night at the party because he was mad that I had to cancel my day off and go into work. I was so wasted by the end I’m amazed I even got my tongue around that sentence.”

“It was kind of slurred but totally awesome,” Tiffany assured her. “Harm said she’d never wished she had a camera as much as she did that second. His face was something else.”

“Better, worse, or on par with when she called James a C-word-y C-word C-word and he nearly choked to death on his fries?”

“It will always kill me the lengths you go to avoid that word when I know all the bad things you will say… but it was on par. Though that time it was more that he found it funny. When you did it, he looked like somebody just stabbed him in the butt with a pitchfork.”

Despite the intoxication Reese’s memory of that particular expression was vivid. It had been an indignant mix of incredulity, anger, embarrassment and guilt. There was also a slight touch of the wounded puppy about it. More than anything she’d shocked him because it was so uncharacteristic. It wasn’t typically the way she got mad at him. When they fought it was a matter of heated debate or backhanded sarcasm, not simple name calling. So for her to skip all that and publicly go straight for such a vehement swipe was out of left field (especially when he might have expected her to be conciliatory, trying to placate him). Once they made up he saw the funny side.

“And with that lovely mental image I think maybe it’s time to start walking back,” Reese said. “I do have somewhere to be in the morning.”

“Yeah, me too. Weird coincidence, huh - maybe I’ll see you there?”

“Sure. I’d tell you what colour to look out for but I haven’t decided what I’m wearing yet.”

“You all ready?”

Justin’s head whipped around to the doorway the voice had emanated from. Leaning against it, his mother stood there yawning in her dressing gown.

“Hey. Told you there was no need to get up.”

“What’s the world coming to if I don’t see my boy off, huh?”

Sleep still laced her voice but Lynn managed a small smile. It was earlier than it perhaps needed to be but Justin wanted to get on the road as soon as possible. The first available flight would bear him back to Los Angeles, where he would stay put this time. He told his parents not to bother waking up to say goodbye, there was no need, but she ignored him. In any event she would have wanted to be up to see him off, but as it turned out she’d slept badly anyway.

“Nah - you should sleep while you can, you got a late one ahead.”

Lynn’s eyes travelled critically over her son’s tall frame. The words were nonchalant, but she couldn’t imagine that they were a true reflection. It didn’t take a trained psychologist to know that his behaviour in the last few days was something to do with the wedding that was now upon them, but he hadn’t opted to let her in on what he was thinking. His strange reappearance a few days ago must have something to do with Reese, she guessed, but Justin had evaded her gentle prying. Whenever she started broaching the topic he found somewhere else to be. His eagerness to leave so early seemed related.

“Not planning on being too late tonight,” she said with a lightness of tone that matched his. “So do you go straight into rehearsals or do you have a couple of days first?”

“Tomorrow,” he replied. Eventually he’d decided to take Johnny up on the club show offer. It was only a handful of gigs, but he could use a project to sink his teeth into. This was a quick win.

“Great. You look set, do you have time for a quick bite or do you need to get straight out?”

“I’ll grab something at the airport, thanks.”

“Okay.” It felt incredibly disloyal to watch her son departing with his head hanging down. In a few hours’ time she would be at an event celebrating the cause of it. Lynn would never refuse to go, for the sake of both Elizabeth and Reese, but she dreaded it. It was awkward to say the least. “Sweetheart…”

“Yeah?” Justin looked back at his mother expectantly.

“Are you sure you don’t need to talk?” It would be ridiculous to ask if he was okay.

“There’s nothing to say, Mom.” The shrug was melancholy but determined. This wasn’t a subject he wanted to discuss but she wouldn’t let him out of the door until he’d allayed her worry. He might as well cut to the chase. “I messed up, she moved on. So as long as she’s happy then it’s all good, I’ll deal with it.”

More than ever she wished he would tell her what happened. At the time she and Liz spent many fruitless hours discussing the possibilities, but neither of their children would divulge. This was the most he’d ever said. It bolstered her suspicion that he’d done something wrong. Of course you didn’t like to imagine that your child was at fault, but shame was the only thing that might explain his reticence. The secrecy was too strange.

“But you came back here for her.” It was stated not asked. “You can’t tell me you’re fine.”

“I’m not.” Zipping his bag shut, he grabbed his hoodie and yanked it over his head. “But it’s okay, I’ll deal with it. Honestly, Mom, I’m good to just take what I can get. We’re friends again and that’s more than I could’ve hoped.”

“Alright.” It was not alright but she was forced to accept it.

“Honestly, Mom,” he repeated. “It’s okay. And don’t feel like you have to sit there being miserable on my account today, have fun.”

That was an unlikely prospect. “Alright.”

Justin gave her a look that told her he didn’t believe her.

**

They hadn’t even left the house, and Reese was already fed up of the photographer.

That was unfair. He was a perfectly nice man doing exactly what he was hired for. She was just already sick of having her picture taken. Camera shyness wasn’t normally a problem for her before but today it was no good. Every time she saw the lens aiming in her direction she worried about what she looked like. That was particularly silly when the whole idea was to get candid photos of the preparation. She wasn’t supposed to look perfect yet, that was the point.

Sitting on a stool in the kitchen (it had the best light and most space), half of her hair was in rollers. A mercifully taciturn stylist was carefully applying her mascara. She must be used to nervous brides who didn’t want to talk. Instead Reese’s eyes kept skirting around the room to the buzz of activity. Nadine’s short hair didn’t need much styling, so in no time at all she was in her gown and ready to rock. Jenna found getting ready more of a challenge since Will kept pestering her, but Dean was wrangling both him and Daisy. It looked like the photographer got some nice shots of them as a family.

Reese was the only one who wasn’t ready. The make up was now done. The hair would be pulled back and pinned and then she’d be released to step into her dress. In half an hour or so, she’d be on her way to the church.

Oliver stepped into the room looking handsome. She hadn’t seen him in any suit except his dress uniform for a while, but the classic tux suited him. All he needed was to shrug on his jacket and he’d be good to go. Idly she wished she’d been one of the sons - it would make getting ready a lot quicker.

“Cars are here.”

“Great, thanks Ollie.”

Eyeing her as if he wanted to say something, he apparently thought better of it. That was for the best, with an audience it wasn’t the best time for any familial chats. Instead he gave her a nod.

“You scrub up nice, sweets.” The smile was in his eyes rather than on his lips.

That was the closest he’d ever come to approving of what she was about to do, so she took it gracefully. Hopefully the hair and make up did look good even if she was still sitting there in her robe.

“Thanks. Lucky for you nobody got your face so you still look nice too.” Okay, maybe not that gracefully.

His eyes ducked down and he shook his head with a sheepish smirk. “Touché, sis.”

She was then distracted by the cloud of hairspray that was suddenly in her face, so Oliver left her to it.

**

The house was quiet now, only two inhabitants and one photographer left. Everybody else had been bundled into cars and whisked away to the church. John Bennington was standing at the bottom of the stairs, fidgeting from foot to foot with his hands stuffed in his pockets. Though he’d seen the results of the coiffing Reese had disappeared into her bedroom to get her outfit on and was yet to re-emerge. He’d expected her to come downstairs after everyone else, could only suppose she was taking a few minutes to gather her thoughts. The photographer was waiting to take pictures of them getting into the car and setting off (and unbeknownst to John, to capture his reaction to seeing his daughter in full regalia for the first time).

Finally the moment came, and the shots the photographer snapped started with awed surprise before melting into a proud beam. With a small bouquet of white roses in one hand Reese was making her way down the stairs in a lace and pearl decorated mermaid gown. Her hair was neatly swept back from her face but left hanging loose in curls, and her veil was pinned into the back with a small comb. Unfortunately she was being so careful as she came down the stairs in the form fitting dress and tall heels that the camera was getting more frowns than smiles as she descended.

“Well,” John said as she finally reached the bottom. “Look at you.”

“Am I spiffy?”

“You’re the spiffiest thing I ever did see, sweetheart.”

He reached out and folded her up into a hug. The warm sturdiness and the familiar smell of his cologne made Reese feel five years old again, as if he’d scooped her up like she was Daisy-sized. Releasing her from the hug, he took her spare hand in his and squeezed.

“You ready to rock?”

“Let’s go.”

The ride to the church wasn’t long, so there wasn’t much time for last minute pearls of wisdom. John didn’t particularly feel that he had any, anyway. Reese had seen plenty of the world by now and done all manner of things, was about to embark on yet another, so he was of the opinion that if she needed his advice she’d ask. Besides, she seemed preoccupied with her own thoughts. Normally his children were chatterboxes on car journeys, all five (maybe it came of constantly having to compete with each other to be heard), but now she was mutely watching out of the window. Clearly the bride was nervous.

“Dad?”

“Yes baby?”

“Can I ask you something personal?”

He chuckled. Was he a stranger or her father? How much more personal did your relationship need to get before you stopped asking if you could enquire into personal matters?

“Sure.”

“Mom said when you were engaged, there was a problem over your job and if you needed to move.”

“That’s right,” he answered. “Got lucky and something opened up close to home.”

Reese fiddled with the bouquet in her lap, looking down at the roses. The florist had pinned a small pearl into the middle of each flower.

“What would you have done if it didn’t?”

“Oh that’s easy, darlin’. I’d have got something as a stop gap until there was an opening in a better location.”

Her eyebrows rose slightly in response. When she spoke to her mother it sounded like a serious dilemma, even a potential deal breaker, but her dad was completely relaxed about it. His hand waved it off dismissively and he answered without hesitation.

“Oh really? Mom said she wasn’t sure if you’d have just gone anyway.”

“Huh.” John’s lower lip pursed outward in exaggerated deliberation. “Never knew that. Well, far as I was concerned it wasn’t a question. Don’t get me wrong, I might’ve still pushed for a move, but I’d never have gone without her. Why do you ask?”

“I was thinking about me and Drake moving and it came to mind, that’s all.”

“Well, it’s just that thing, isn’t it?” He reached out and squeezed her hand. “There would’ve been other jobs, but there was only one Elizabeth Lavelle.”

A soft, wistful look came into Reese’s eyes. “Never tagged you for such a romantic.”

“Hey, your old man has been known to have a sweet spot on occasion,” he replied. “But I couldn’t say it was some romantic gesture because it wasn’t really a purposeful decision that I made. It never seriously crossed my mind that there was any option which didn’t involve your mom.”

“No?” That was interesting, because from what she said it crossed hers.

“No.” He paused briefly to consider it further. He’d never thought about it like that until she asked. “I guess when somebody’s it for you, you don’t stop having your own life and your own plans but they become a big part of them. Which, as far as fatherly advice to your little girl on her wedding day goes, that’s probably best I can say to you. Don’t stop following your own paths; just make sure you factor each other in.”

Reese went to lay her head on her father’s shoulder, then remembered her hair and thought better of it. “You know I always had this picture in my head that you’d spend the entire drive giving me fatherly advice.”

“Nah.” He patted her knee. “Of all my children, you’ve always been the one who needed my advice the least.”

“Really?”

“Really,” he replied. “Dean took far too long to grow up, though he came good in the end like I knew he would. Oliver’s a good boy but never really known his direction… wager Clark’s going the same way.”

Reese’s silence was her agreement. Dean did go through a few wilderness years before he straightened himself out. Some might put it down to finding the right job or meeting Jenna, but she thought those were consequences not causes. He’d got his head on straight and the rest followed. Oliver she always felt joined the forces needing some time to test himself (though it turned out it suited him, she’d lay bets on him staying). Time would tell with Clark, but they were similar personalities.

“Sam… well, kid’s always had a habit of playing it too safe. That’s why he looks up to you so much, you know. Thinks you’re brave.”

She snorted. “Hard to think of Sam looking up at anything.” He was absurdly tall. All her brothers were, got it from their mom’s side of the family, but even they looked short next to him.

“Mark my words, girl, your little brother looks up to you - as well he might. You’ve known what you wanted since you were seventeen, and you’ve got a knack for when to shoot for it. Even now you’re about to go off and do it again. Ollie’s got guts and Sam’s got sense, but you got both and that’s a powerful combination. That’s why I don’t worry about you, even when you’re the other side of the country. Sam could stand to have a little of your adventure in him… even if it meant I had to go see the principal less about him than you.”

Reese flushed. Trace would be pleased – there was at least one person who understood he wasn’t the real mastermind of all those escapades.

“Nah, I didn’t need to spend this drive telling you what to do,” John finished with a tap of her nose. “You always knew how to figure out it for yourself, and that makes me proud.” 

He couldn’t know it, but this little chat had been exactly what she needed. “Thanks, Dad.”

They fell back into quiet for the remaining five minutes of the journey. The bride sat primly in her seat, hands clasped around her bouquet in her lap. Staring at the flowers she slowed her breathing and compelled herself into a state of calm. All she was concentrating on was inhaling and exhaling. The butterflies in her stomach were trying to fight their way up into her chest but through sheer force of will she kept them there. Aside from nearly making her cry, her father’s speech had reminded her that she’d earned some trust from herself in her own instincts.

When they pulled up outside the church Nadine and Jenna were waiting for them. John exited the car and then extended his hand back in to assist her. She grasped it gratefully; the dress was constricting her movement and the heels were higher than strictly practical. Jenna fussed around her, pulling the veil over her face and straightening out the small train. Looking around, for the first time Reese appreciated how many people were in attendance. The lot was full of cars.

Nadine smiled excitedly at her. Despite her general attitude to marriage, she was actually looking forward to this day she’d helped so much in planning. “You ready?”

“In a minute. Can you just go get Trace for me a second?”

All three of them looked at her like she’d said something insane. “Umm, hon, we need to get in there.”

“I know,” Reese replied. “It’ll only take a minute.”

“But…”

“Please just get me Trace.”

Nadine worked very hard to withhold the expletives resting on her tongue. It was going to be tricky to do this discreetly and without causing some stir amongst the groom’s party. Not to mention it involved her having to converse with her second least favourite person.

“Alright, I’ll go.”

Trace stepped cautiously towards Reese in much the way you’d imagine the bomb squad approaching a suspicious package. Her veil was still over her face so he couldn’t see enough of her expression. It didn’t matter though; the very fact that she’d called him out there made things apparent. Something wasn’t right.

Fortunately for Nadine, Trace had been running late as usual that day. It meant he wound up sitting towards the back of the church where it was much easier to grab him. He enjoyed that experience even less than she did. Nadine never bothered hiding her disdain and she often made him nervous. It wasn’t that he was easily rattled; her tongue was just that sharp. Bitter experience taught him to fear her. On seeing her approach he’d been too busy inwardly groaning to wonder why she could possibly want him, but the second she’d started talking his heart sank. She didn’t say much, only that Reese wanted a word. That was more than enough. Because why would she want to speak to him now if it was anything good?

“Hey…” He said it with a slow and wary lilt.

“Hey.” Her own voice didn’t give much away. She spoke carefully and at a near whisper.

“You… you look pretty.”

“Thanks. I like your suit.” He did look abnormally smart in his charcoal threads.

“Maybe we should quit talking like we’re in the receiving line and I’m the second cousin twice removed that you never met before. Why am I here?”

Her bouquet dangled at one side, and with the other arm Reese reached up to sweep her veil aside. It did the dual job of allowing her to look at Trace properly while blocking her face from the view of three worried onlookers. Nadine would probably be standing next to her listening to every word if Jenna wasn’t there to hold her back. This needed to be a private conversation.

“I know you don’t like to stick your nose into other people’s business and it’s one of my favourite things about you, but if I asked you a point blank question you wouldn’t bullshit me right?”

His eyebrows knitted together in confusion. “You know I’d never bullshit you, babe. What’s going on?”

Reese’s hand tightened around the flowers. She was probably crushing the stems – it was a good thing the thorns had been removed. “Both Justin and Tiffany have told me, in one way or another, that they think he’s wrong for me. What do you think?”

His face paled and he shook his head. “Come on, Reese, you can’t put me in that position. Especially not five seconds before your damn ceremony.”

“Yes I can, you’re my best friend and you’re way more objective than either of them. I promise I won’t get mad. You’re the only person I really trust to give this to me straight and not be blinded by some other issue.”

He wasn’t as confident that she wouldn’t hate him, but she seemed to believe what she was saying. There was also some flattery to be taken. It was an ego boost to be viewed as the trusted advisor. As his eyes flicked over her face, Trace thought she was sincere.

She was sincere. Every other opinion expressed to her was flawed in some way. Justin plainly possessed too much of an ulterior motive. Tiffany’s opinion became clear by accident rather than design. She hadn’t actually intended to suggest that it was a poor match, though that was the practical effect of her advice. But how far could you trust that when she’d never met Drake or seen them interact? Oliver took badly to Drake almost on sight and only became more ill-disposed towards him after the bar incident. Nadine was too fond of Drake and if she was honest, she hadn’t confided enough in her about everything for her to see the full context. Of all the people whose opinions she valued, only Trace’s stood any chance of being objective.

“You sure? Because whatever I say, once I’ve said it you can’t take that back.”

“If I walk in there this is for real, T,” she replied. “It’s now or never.”

“Okay…” He reached out and squeezed her wrist, since her hands were too full of flowers and veil respectively. His eyes closed for a second. Opening them back up, he made sure to look her directly in the face. “If you want my honest opinion…” One more inhalation and the he took the plunge. “It’s not what I ever pictured for you. He’s a good guy, but I don’t think you’d be with him if you hadn’t had a rough time and not really been acting like yourself.”

Reese’s gaze moved to Trace’s neatly shined shoes. A copper tang in her mouth told her that she’d bitten her lip. He held his breath until slowly and uncertainly she began to nod.

“I had a feeling you’d say that.”

“Then why’d you ask?”

Now her eyes met his again, looking fearful. “I needed to hear you say it. So I’d know it was really true.”

“Reese…” Words failed him.

“We’re too different, aren’t we?”

A braver person might have gone ahead and voiced it, but Trace couldn’t bring himself to. Instead he reached out to give her a hug. He risked a glance over at her father, who was looking extremely troubled. Jenna was anxiously pacing while Nadine’s face was set in grim lines. They must have been able to see something was wrong.

“It’s okay, babe,” he said. In a futile attempt at reassurance he rubbed her back.

“How is it okay?” The entire conversation was already at a low volume but now she was near inaudible. “I have to go in there, in front of all those people, and tell him this isn’t happening. I have to go humiliate the both of us.”

Of all the feelings to hit in that moment, the one Trace felt most acutely was shame. What was he thinking, saying that? He really did not want to be the reason she ran out on her wedding. What if he was wrong?

“You don’t have to call everything off just because of my opinion. It’s not like I’m some guru.”

“No, I have to call it off because you’re right, pretty much everything he and I ever talked about for our future was me not really acting like myself.”

That was a better reason. “I’m sorry, babe.”

“I can’t believe I have to do this. Oh God…”

“It’s going to be a bitch.” There was no getting around that. This wasn’t the climax of some movie where she would run off in the sunset with people cheering her onto freedom, or where the jilted groom would graciously thank her for her truthfulness. Even if Drake didn’t kick up a scene this was going to be drama. The guests wouldn’t be able to help themselves, they would gossip.  “But it’s going to be a heck of a lot easier for both of you than if you’d got married and then had to get divorced. At least you realised now before you went through with it.”

“What do I do?”

This might have been the first time in their lives that it was Reese looking to him for a plan, Trace thought ruefully. Whether for good or for mischief, it had always been her leading him along and telling him how things were going to go. It was one of the things he’d missed during the year long estrangement. Whenever he was lost or didn’t know what to do next, he would go to her. After hearing him out for a little bit she would cook up a plan of action for him. Sometimes they were kind of nuts, but she rarely steered him wrong. It usually worked out in the end. Now it was his turn to step up and return the favour. He hoped he was up to it.

“You… stay here. I’ll go in there and get him, so at least you can talk out here without the audience. Then you and your dad can get back in the car and go home.”

“But... the guests… and the reception and… God Trace, why was I so stupid to let it get this far?” The tears spilled out properly this time.

“You’re not stupid; you just got a little caught up, that’s all. We’ll fix it babe, don’t worry. You talk to Drake, I’ll take care of the announcement and getting everybody out of here.”

Hastily releasing her arm, Trace strode away. Half blind through the crying, Reese could only vaguely make out the shape of her father and bridesmaids as he dropped the bombshell. Nadine looked shocked and made as if to run over there to her. Trace grabbed her arm and prevented her doing so. She couldn’t hear the conversation, but apparently he’d given her some other instruction because with a filthy glare she shook him off and stomped away in another direction.

Her father was upon her before she even noticed his approach. Without ceremony or care he pulled the veil from her face and tossed it back over her head.

“I don’t understand, sweetheart.”

“I’m so sorry, Daddy,” she sniffled. “Guess maybe I’m not as smart as you thought.”

He took her face in his hands and wiped at her wet cheeks with his thumbs. “Why didn’t you say something earlier?”

“I thought it was just cold feet,” she said.

“And it’s not?”

She shook her head, tasting more blood as her teeth once again scraped her lower lip.  “I’m so sorry I’m embarrassing you like this.”

John wanted to deny that she was, but he wasn’t so naïve. This was indeed going to be incredibly awkward with their family and friends. It was still infinitely preferable than going ahead when she felt like this but none of them would escape unscathed. There was a good deal of his money that had been wasted as well as the couple’s. The wedding insurance wouldn’t cover this. It was no small matter, even if his daughter’s well being trumped it all.

“You’re really sure that you don’t want to do this?”

“I’m sure it’d be a mistake.” Pain etched harsh lines into her forehead. “What do I do?”

He was saved from having to answer by the appearance of the groom, who looked worried to death. Surely Trace wouldn’t be so insensitive as to break the news himself? John quickly dismissed the thought. Trace didn’t have to have told him; Drake wasn’t a fool. Nobody could think this boded well.

“I’ll wait for you by the car.”

Of all thoughts to fly through her mind at that moment, she wondered whether her mascara had run. Presumably the stylist would have used waterproof.

“Reese? Baby, what’s going on?”

Drake reached her and his hands went to her arms. Deep concern was stamped in the frown lines around his mouth, and delicately his fingers rubbed her bare skin. The care he showed made it worse. Her stomach felt like it was ripping itself to pieces. It was a good thing she’d had no appetite that morning because any food probably would have been making its reappearance. She needed to leave her lip alone too, because once again it was bleeding.

Her breath came in shudders, and the resulting sentence was stilted. “Drake, I… I…”

“Hey, hey.” His hands went to her face and it only made it harder. “Whatever it is, it’s okay.”

“No it’s not.” It was as if her face was some sheet of paper somebody had picked up and was now crumpling into a ball. Everything seemed to wrinkle in on itself. “I screwed up.”

“Whatever it is you can tell me, it’s okay.”

Drake didn’t know how to comfort his sobbing bride. Everything he did seemed counterproductive. His words weren’t helping and neither was the kiss he’d laid on her nose. She was only crying harder. He didn’t understand it. They’d texted each other last night and nothing was amiss. He’d told her he couldn’t wait to see her and she’d said she loved him. So why had she made her friend drag him out of the church? Why was she having this meltdown? How had she screwed up?

A million thoughts went through his mind. Was this some left over issue from that ridiculous bar fight? (He knew she knew that his apology was grudging, though she’d accepted it anyway). Had she done something behind his back he wouldn’t like? With that thought he immediately started to wonder if she’d cheated on him and was having a fit of conscience. The next place his mind went was to her ex-fiancé, whose return was only marginally less strange than the fact that she’d suddenly forgiven whatever transgression made her so previously wrathful. What could possibly be so bad that she would get so far as the church door yet not be able to walk in as scheduled?

Whatever it was, it was making his insides thrash and churn like a sea in a storm. The gut wrenching thing was that she looked breathtaking (apart from the ugly crying). If he’d seen her walking towards him as planned his heart would have been fit to burst. 

“I read your vows.”

He almost wanted to laugh. Was that it? She felt guilty for being nosy? “Well that’s okay, baby, I’m not gonna get mad at you for that. You were only gonna hear ‘em anyway,” he joked weakly.

“No, that’s not…” Her nose was threatening to stream along with the tears, and she had to make a very unattractive snorting sound to keep it back. “Did you really mean them?”

“Of course I do.” Drake ran his hands to her shoulders, massaging them tenderly.

“Then I…” Now she was hiccoughing. He looked so handsome (even with the ineptly concealed black eye). He was looking at her so lovingly that it made her feel ten times more wretched. She imagined this was what it felt like to be boiled in oil. “I’m so sorry.”

“What?” He felt helpless. “What is it?”

“I can’t marry you.”

Drake’s hands flew away from her like she’d burned him. The shock forced him backwards. “What?”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Reese, I…” He shook his head as if to clear out his ears. He couldn’t have heard her correctly. “What the hell is going on?”

Her lips were pressed together so tightly they were almost white. Her shoulders shook as she tried to get the words out. “You wrote me these… these really beautiful vows, and when I read them… somewhere deep down I knew I couldn’t be your wife.”

“That doesn’t make any fucking sense!” He exclaimed. Shock and disbelief were starting to make way for confusion and anger. “What do you mean you can’t marry me because of the vows? If they’re so beautiful what’s the damn problem?”

“You don’t want to be in LA, do you?” She asked. The bouquet was quivering up and down in her trembling hand. “You want to be here. Starting a family.”

“What? Reese, baby, we already talked about that.” He picked up her hand again, trying to reason with her. “I’m fine with LA.”

“For how long?” She threw her arms out, taking his hand along with hers in the gesture. “A year? Two years? Because we’re going to get there and I’m not going to want to come back. You will, I won’t.”

“What?”

Reese dabbed at her nose ineffectually with the back of her hand. The snot would be added to the tears whether she liked it or not. This was not how she’d ever pictured looking on her wedding day.

“I feel like I’ve been so unfair to you. You came into my life and you’ve been nothing but amazing, but it’s been this time when I really haven’t been acting like myself and been trying to be somebody that I’m not. I need to get back to who I really am but if I try and take you with me, I’m going to make you miserable. You don’t deserve that.”

“I… I don’t understand.”

“I love you, I honestly do.” A fresh batch of tears sprang up. As far as pain went, this probably rivalled the moment she’d found Justin with the tramp. Inflicting this on somebody she loved so much and who deserved it so little was torture. Apparently heartbreaking sucked equally when you were dishing it out as when you were on the receiving end. “But we’re not what each other needs and I feel like it would be wrong to go through with this. I’m so sorry.”

Repeating that wasn’t making him feel any better. “Why the fuck didn’t you tell me about all this before we had a hundred God damn people sitting in a church waiting for us?”

“Because I didn’t want to believe it. I was so determined to keep my promise to you that I didn’t stop to think whether that was the best thing and now I’ve just made it all worse.”

Drake was not going to disagree with her. “Look, baby… it’s understandable to be nervous and to panic, but there’s no need to do anything drastic. It’s not that big a deal; we just need to thrash it out some more if what we talked about before hasn’t made you feel better. We’ll work it out.”

She shook her head. “Do you know what I would’ve done if you hadn’t agreed to go to LA, Drake?”

“You’re about to tell me,” he said with a sarcastic bite. He wasn’t in the mood for guessing.

It came out in a bare whisper. She couldn’t bear to say it but she had to. “I would have gone anyway.”

That one shocked him into stunned silence. It was without a doubt the nastiest thing anybody had ever said to him. It wasn’t intended that way of course, yet somehow that only made the sting more potent.

“I would have tossed and turned and agonised over it… but in the end, I’d have to go, because that’s the real person that I am. And that’s not what you signed on for or what you need to be happy. I’m so sorry. I really love you but it’s not enough.”

“No.” Words were coming back to him, and his head started to shake compulsively. “No. You can’t love me that fuckin’ much if you could say that.”

Reese’s head hung, and all she could do in response was to renew the sobbing. More than anything she wanted to be able to answer that charge. She wanted to be able to tell him that it wasn’t true, that she loved him more than anything, that it was all just some unfortunate but uncontrollable mismatch.

That wouldn’t be the truth. That was why it hurt so much.

Right up until her little chat with her father, she still intended to become Mrs Turner. Her talk with Tiffany the previous evening kept her on that path even as she continued to harbour doubts. It allowed her to rationalise away what her gut kept telling her. Over the past few weeks she’d been waking up from the fantasy she’d woven around herself. Unfortunately she had pulled somebody else into that fantasy and now he was suffering the consequences along with her. She hated herself for that. But as John talked his words rang true to her, and she realised her failings.

Her father loved her mother enough to keep his track in line with hers even when that seemed difficult. It never occurred to him to do otherwise. When made to choose he chose her without hesitation and yet without compromising himself. Reese didn’t have that for Drake; he was right about that. If push came to shove she would have to go back to LA. In order to do what she needed to be fulfilled and happy, her choices would have to take her away from him or keep him from what he needed. That meant he couldn’t be it for her. Maybe she’d loved the way he built her back up or what he represented to her, but he couldn’t be the one. She knew what that ought to look like and this situation did not resemble it at all.

Reese knew what it meant to love somebody so much they became too integral to your life to do anything but follow them. She’d done it before, many years before she’d ever realised that was what she’d done. At seventeen years old she’d seen her two best friends starting a life that would take them far away. Her response was to plan a future that would allow her to join them. That was long before one became her boyfriend. It wasn’t a conscious choice, either - just as her father described, she never entertained any other possibility. It wasn’t a matter of sacrificing herself either, the way it would be if she took her vows today.

Reese Bennington simply loved Trace Ayala and Justin Timberlake so much that she’d found a way to make her dreams compatible with theirs. Something she couldn’t do for Drake Turner, no matter how much that was killing her in this moment.

“I’m so sorry. If I hadn’t been in so much denial I could have done this sooner and spared you this. I’m so sorry.”

“Not as fuckin’ sorry as I am,” he said bitterly. “What am I supposed to say to all those people in there?”

She sniffled. “Trace said he’d break the news and get everybody out of there, you don’t have to.”

“Well that’s just friggin’ great. You clearly had this all worked out.”

“What? No…” She reached out for his arm but he batted her away.

“Just save it, Reese. We’re done here.”

As he turned and walked away, her legs dissolved from under her. Later she would find grass stains on the lace from where she’d fallen, but she would have no memory of falling. The world slipped away and though Jenna and her father were rushing to her she saw and heard nothing. All she could concentrate on was the burning black hole that had formed in her chest and was swallowing her insides.

On hearing the sound of the front door, Jenna rose from her seat and went to greet her husband. As it turned out she was also greeting her brother in law. Both Dean and Oliver were kicking off their sneakers and shrugging off their jackets. They were always the siblings who resembled each other least of the five, but apparently some facial expressions were genetic. There was an uncanny similarity in their clenched jaws (and also in their dress sense – both were in jeans and plaid shirts, having long since ditched the tuxedos).

“Hey.” She leaned against the door jamb and folded her arms. “No luck?”

“No,” Dean said with a bleak shake of his head. “We just came to grab something to eat and then we’ll head back out.” They wouldn’t even have done that, but they were flagging and needed the energy.

“I put yours under the grill. Figured you might bring home guests, so there’s plenty for Ollie too.”

“And that is why I married you.”  As he passed by her to get to the kitchen, Dean gave her a quick kiss hello and a light rub on the arm.

Oliver followed, hands stuffed in his jean pockets and giving her a strained smile. “Thanks, Jen.”

Dean paused only briefly by the table to kiss both of his children on the forehead. Daisy was much too busy digging in her food with the spoon to pay any heed (or to eat the food). Will was doing better with his dinner but had managed to smear the tomato sauce all around his face in the process. A good few pieces of his pasta made it onto the place mat rather than into his mouth. Oliver in turn ruffled his nephew’s hair en route to the cupboards.

They had been searching for their sister for a couple of hours now with no results. Sam and their father were also out looking, but even a town like theirs was too much ground for such a small group to cover. Nobody wanted to make a further spectacle of Reese by involving any more friends and neighbours, but it was getting to a point where they might not have a choice. The night was upon them. She hadn’t taken her phone with her, so there was no way to check that she was alright. They didn’t even know what she’d been wearing. For all they knew she’d gone out without enough layers and could make herself sick as the temperature dropped.

The wedding ceremony lapsed into chaos as soon as Trace Ayala got up to the front and haltingly announced that it would not be going ahead. People swarmed upon the Bennington family members as if they weren’t also hearing this for the first time. None of them knew what to do. As people started getting up and milling around, rushing over to each other to exclaim and speculate, they filled the aisle of the church. That made it difficult to get out, not helped by them already being at the very front. Everybody stopped them to offer condolences or to try and dig into what might be happening but they were as clueless as anyone.

Once outside they were filled in by Jenna and Nadine. This was a short and incomplete story since neither of them was told much. John had loaded Reese into the car and got her out of there before anybody made it outside (helped by Trace’s strategic delay). All that was left was to clear the church and apologise to as many of the guests as they could. It was the most excruciating experience any of them had suffered in a while. The mix of pity and curiosity everybody wore on their faces was galling. A few were clearly feeling a little disapproving, but luckily most of those were dealt with by Elizabeth or Sam. Oliver might not have been able to hold his tongue.

“So none of her friends know where she is either?” Jenna asked.

“No.” Dean finished dishing the pasta onto the plates and handed one to his brother. Rather than sitting down they both leaned against the counter. Neither could relax enough to sit and eat a meal properly. “None of her LA friends had a clue she was going to back out, and she hasn’t answered any of Trace’s messages since Dad took her out of there.”

“Do we have any idea what’s happened? Like, why did she even run out?”

Oliver swallowed the bite of food before speaking. “Not really, she wasn’t talking to anyone when we got home. Dad said she got Trace out of the church, spoke to him, and then just called the whole thing off saying it’d be a mistake. She told Drake, naturally they had a fight and then Dad took her home. That was as much as anyone got out of her.”

“So how did we manage to lose her?”

“No friggin’ idea,” Dean said. “She shut herself up in her room, wouldn’t open her door to anyone. When Ollie finally said screw that and barged in anyway she was just gone. She could have left any time before we actually realised.”

They hadn’t immediately fretted abut it. Even though it was a mystery how she’d got out without being noticed, they didn’t blame her. It was only natural to need to clear her head after the tumultuous day. At that stage the disappearance was sudden but not cause for alarm. The worry only set in when she didn’t return for several hours. Their mom tried to call her and they heard the phone going off upstairs. That was when they started to grow concerned. It wasn’t that they wanted to prise answers out of her; this wasn’t the time of year to be outside all night. The days were still mild but when the sun went down it got cool very quickly.

“Lord.” Going to the sink, she grabbed a cloth and took it back to the table. As she talked she started wiping up after her children. “Anyone hear from Drake?”

“No, not that I expected to,” Dean replied. “Though he probably couldn’t get through even if he tried. Everybody’s phones have been blowing up with people calling to check if we’re okay.”

As if to punctuate his phone beeped yet again in his pocket. Pulling it out with a sigh, he saw that it was Clark. It made him feel bad, having to text back to say that they still hadn’t found her – almost like he was letting the kid down or failing him. Where the four eldest had more or less equal relationships, the age gap meant Reese had always doted on Clark. Though he was currently at an age where he wouldn’t willingly admit it, he adored her in return. He knew he wouldn’t sleep until she was accounted for.

“Check if we’re okay meaning ‘be nosy bastards and get the gossip,’ of course.” Oliver’s nose twitched as he scowled. “Even Mom was starting to swear every time the damn house phone rang.”

“Well it’s not great, is it,” Jenna said. “Apart from being insensitive as all hell, if Reese tries to call from somewhere you want the line clear.”

“Exactly.”

“So what’s the plan?”

“Mom’s staying home in case she shows back up. You’re here, Trace and Nadine agreed to stay put in case she turns up at either of their places, and her friends are doing the same at their motel in case she goes to see them. All else we can do is keep looking, though if it gets too late we might have to consider calling the sheriff. I mean, she wouldn’t qualify as missing persons but they might be able to think of some places we didn’t look.”

A light bulb went off in Jenna’s head. “Speaking of, you should call Justin. If Trace can’t think of anywhere else she might be I bet he could.”

Dean looked at his wife with wonder in his eyes. “You always have all the good ideas, baby.”

“Just you remember that.”

Before this exchange was over Oliver had abandoned his plate and got his phone in his hand. He pulled up Justin’s contact details. It only took a couple of rings before a puzzled voice answered.

“Ollie?” He’d seen the name on the caller ID and was perplexed. None of the Bennington brothers had any occasion to call him in the last year, but for Oliver it was even longer since he’d been away serving. In the middle of his sister’s wedding reception seemed like an odd time.

“Hey, Justin, I’m sorry to bug you but I was wondering if you heard from Reese today?”

“Umm… no. Of course not. Figure she’s a little busy.”

“Heh.” Oliver’s laugh was twisted with irony.

“Why you asking?”

“It’s a long story, but she didn’t get married today and we haven’t heard from her in a while. We’re getting worried and I just wondered…” He got a pointed look from Dean, as if by saying that he was stealing credit. Rolling his eyes, he corrected himself. “Well, Jenna wondered if maybe she might have talked to you?”

“Shiiiiiit.” He couldn’t see Justin’s face, but from that tone Oliver imagined it to be wearing a look of dumbfounded astonishment. “No, she hasn’t.”

“Don’t suppose you know where she might go? We’ve been looking but no sign of her.”

Justin could have screamed. That wasn’t often the case – he was more the ‘fume silently’ type – but he really could have screamed. Leaving seemed like the smart move this morning. Now he was kicking himself. He couldn’t believe he was sitting alone in California, unable to act on any of this information.

“Where have you checked?”

He reeled them off on his spare set of fingers. “Her place, the Ayalas’, your mom’s, the hotel where your friends are, our usual bars… all the normal hang outs.”

“Did Trace tell you where to check in the park?”

Oliver perked up, gesturing to Dean with a finger pointed at the phone and then a thumbs up. “No he didn’t mention the park. Where?”

**

Reese wasn’t sure how her brothers guessed where she was. They had taken the most direct path to the spot; she happened to be facing it so saw them coming. Although she’d left home wanting solitude she was comforted. Even from a distance she’d been able to tell who it was. The path was well lit and they were too distinctive to her. They were both similar heights, but it was the walk that did it. In Oliver’s case it was the smooth glide; in Dean’s it was the square-shouldered stance. There was something very John Wayne about it.

When they reached the summit they looked at her with loving exasperation in their eyes. A spare jacket dangled from Dean’s hand, which she could only assume was for her.

“I know you don’t have a curfew any more but you could have called,” Dean said before easing himself down on the grass next to her. Oliver did the same on her other side. As he did he sent a group text message letting everybody know they’d got her.

“Just needed to be on my own a while.” She gave a shrug.

“We totally get that, but we were all getting worried sis,” Oliver told her gently. “It’s late.”

Reese picked up his wrist to look at his watch. Her eyes widened. Of course she’d seen the night start setting in, but somehow she’d underestimated the time. “Oh shit, I had no idea.”

“Geez, your hands are freezing!” He exclaimed.

“Are they?” She asked. She’d been a little chilly a while ago but felt fine. She thought that meant she’d warmed up – actually it meant she’d gone so far she stopped feeling it. It was lucky they found her when they did or she could have expected a nice head cold on top of everything else.

Dean took it as his cue to wrap the jacket around her. That was another good suggestion of Jenna’s, making sure they had a spare in case she wasn’t dressed warmly enough. He then followed it with his arm around her. Reese wearily rested her head on his shoulder. She snuggled into the jacket, pressing her nose slightly into his sleeve. The one he’d put on her was his assistant coach jacket but the one he wore was a leather number he’d lived in since high school. It was like her old brown cowboy boots – well worn in. If she associated any smell with her eldest brother, it would be that beaten up leather or the pine freshener in his truck.

“How did you even get out?” Dean asked.

There was no way she was admitting that. She had been climbing out of her bedroom window and down the adjacent tree since the age of twelve. If nobody figured it out yet she wasn’t cluing them in. There was a faintly perilous hop between window ledge and the sturdiest branch but it became less so as she grew older and taller. She’d never expected to do it again at this age but here she was. She knew she’d never get out of the front door without an inquisition or people wanting to go with her; she hadn’t been ready to face anyone. If she’d timed it like she’d meant to then she would have been back before she scared anyone.

“I’m sorry, I totally lost track of time.”

“Just take your phone next time, alright?” Oliver picked up her hand in both of his, rubbing to warm it up.

“I just knew Nadine and everybody would be blowing it up and… God, I’m sorry. First I go and pull that stunt at the church and dump you all in it with the guests, and then on top of everything I go and worry you all thinking I’ve jumped off a bridge or something. God I’m such a stupid bitch. Total screw up.”

“You know I don’t let people talk shit about my sister like that,” Dean said.

“You should if she deserves it.” Reese’s mouth curled into a self-loathing sneer.

“If all you’ve been doing is sitting out here beating yourself up then you should’ve come home earlier,” Oliver said with a stern gaze. “Nobody blames you, Reese. If you were having doubts then you did the right thing.”

“Yeah, but maybe if I’d have done the right thing a few days ago it wouldn’t have been such a God damn drama. And I wouldn’t have had tons of people waste so much money for a wedding that didn’t happen, or embarrass Mom and Dad like that. Or worry you all by being inconsiderate.”

That was hard to respond to. Neither of her brothers thought she was being fair on herself, but it was hard to refute. There was no untruth in what she’d said; her actions had all that impact and more.

“Dad called the venue,” he offered up. “They managed to save some of the stuff so we can try to return it or at least sell it on as second hand.”

Oliver’s intent was to soothe her worries about the money side, but she only felt more ashamed. “Which if I wasn’t such a selfish idiot I’d have been taking responsibility for.”

“It’s okay,” Dean told her, rubbing his hand briskly along her upper arm. “We’re your family; helping pick up the pieces is what we do.”

More tears sprang to her eyes. An endless well of them seemed to reside somewhere in her body. Part of her wondered if she’d been storing some that she should have let out long ago. Maybe if she had she wouldn’t have got herself into this mess, pretending to be someone she wasn’t.

“I just feel like I went and created this whole mess and it’s everybody else paying for it,” she sniffled. “You guys, Drake…” The name made her choke. “I feel like I hurt everybody.”

“Only way you’d hurt us is if you’d done the wrong thing and been unhappy, darlin’. Even if I hate it when Ollie’s right.”

“Let’s not make this about me, ‘kay?”

Reese was confused. “What do you mean?”

“Yeah. Ass called this a few days ago. That’s why he’s been such a dick.”

“Hey!” He protested.

“And you couldn’t have just, I don’t know, said something instead of acting like a total brat?” She asked bitterly. It wasn’t Oliver’s fault, she got herself into her own trouble, but it would have been nice if he’d tried a conversation instead of a fist fight.

“Would you have listened?”

Maybe he had her there. “Possibly not. You’re still an idiot though. You too, I haven’t forgotten you were throwing punches,” she said before Dean could get too smug.

Dean rolled his eyes. It felt like he did that a lot when it came to Oliver lately. “Me and my nearly broke wrist haven’t forgot either.”

“So the only ones of us who aren’t total dipshits are Sam and Clark,” she said.  “Huh. Guess older’s no guarantee of wiser.”

“Look, sweetheart, you’ve been out here in the cold too long. We’ll get you home, get some food down you, and maybe you can just go to sleep and be more ready to talk about all this in the morning?” Dean suggested.

When they began searching, the first thought in his mind about what to do when they found her was trying to coax the real story out. In her current state he no longer thought that was smart. If she’d spent several hours convincing herself she was a horrible person it wasn’t wise to revisit the most emotional point while she felt that way. Maybe a good night’s sleep would give her some perspective.

“I don’t know…” She hid her face a little further into his shoulder. It muffled her voice against the leather. “I’m not sure I can face Mom and Dad.”

“Doesn’t have to be home-home; my guest room’s yours if you want it Reesey.” It was a childhood nickname he didn’t use much these days.

Did it matter where it was? Her parents’ house, Dean and Jenna’s house, it wasn’t the honeymoon suite she was supposed to be staying in. She was supposed to be a wife right now. There should have been vows, pictures, dinner and dancing. People should have made speeches and she should have thrown her bouquet. Instead she spent her evening sitting by herself on a hilltop, plucking blades of grass, wondering how the hell she’d managed to get everything so spectacularly wrong.

A brief thought skittered through her head that she could ask Trace to help her pack up. Get away to Los Angeles as soon as possible. Immediately she berated herself for it. He would do it without question - but she’d run away once before and it hadn’t helped. This time she needed to be brave and deal with the mess. Whoever she had to face, however painful that might be, she had to suck it up. As Dean might say, they were Benningtons and Benningtons weren’t cowards. Even if being a coward was a more comforting idea right about now.

“Please.”

Dean kissed her forehead and released her, clambering to his feet and leaving Oliver to help her up. Once they were standing, he took his turn to give his sister a hug. Reese accepted it willingly. Being older Dean somehow felt more reassuring when he hugged her, but Ollie had a way of making the weight on her shoulders feel a little lighter. Hugs from her younger brothers were different, made her feel admired and looked up to (even if Clark was in his teenage ‘too cool for displays of affection’ stage). She might have scoffed at her dad in the car when he said so, but it was true. It made her feel madder at herself for not living up to her role model status.

Oliver tucked her arm through his and started leading the way home.

From: jrandall81@zmail.com

To: rbennington@talk.com

Subject: Hi

Hey Reese,

Remember how we used to e-mail each other all the time? Why’d we stop?

Been trying to call but you’re forever busy and shit’s too long for texts, so figured I’d give this a whirl. Just wanted to check up on you and see if you’re okay – Trace mentioned what happened but he didn’t say much. Not sure if he’s being discreet for once in his life or you haven’t felt like talking. I understand if in the situation you don’t want to, but if you do then I’m here. Promise I’ll sound sympathetic in all the right places and be ready to cuss about anyone who pissed you off.

Not a lot going on with me – prepping for some club shows on the East Coast, I fly out in two days. Nothing major, just me and the band so no choreography, but I wanted to work out a couple of covers so we’re in rehearsal. Don’t know what your plans are over the next couple of weeks but if you want a vacation let me know and I’ll fix for you and T to come out.

Speak soon,

JT x

**

From: rbennington@talk.com

To: jrandall81@zmail.com

Subject: Re: Hi

Hi,

So sorry it took me this long to reply, been mega busy.

We stopped e-mailing because I moved to the same time zone and you no longer had to fear my wrath if you got it wrong and accidentally called at 3am. And also because it’s no longer 1999 when that was cool.

Things are… umm… yeah! Don’t have much time to write, but keep the cussing prepped and I’ll give you a call at some point (when I’m not on permanent hold to idiot companies who don’t understand that you need to cancel because you don’t fucking live there any more). 

But hey, covers, you know I like when you do those. Doubt I can get away, as soon as I tie up all this stuff with Drake I need to start fixing the move, but I hope it goes good.

Reese

**

From: jrandall81@zmail.com

To: rbennington@talk.com

Subject: Re: Hi

That’s fine, you can leave me hanging for several days, I don’t mind.

Sounds like you’re having some fun (not), do you need a hand with the move? I know people. Please don’t read that in some tone that makes me sound like a bad mafia movie.

JT x

**

From: jrandall81@zmail.com

To: rbennington@talk.com

Subject: Re: Hi

Hi,

Okay, so when I said you could leave me hanging for several days? That was a joke. You weren’t supposed to take me literally!

Wasn’t going to resort to e-mail again (you’re right, way too ’99), but thought of you today and once again I got the busy tone of doom when I called. You really weren’t kidding about things being crazy. Just wanted to tell you that I’m in NY, and I finally stumbled back across that bakery we could never find again!  You know, the one with the crazy psychedelic sign out front? Had the presence of mind to save the address this time, can confirm that the pastries still rock as much as we remembered.

Let me know you’re okay. I’m a little worried that my inability to get hold of you means you’ve beaten yourself to death with the phone after one too many calls to the cable company.

Love, JT x

**

From: rbennington@talk.com

To: jrandall81@zmail.com

Subject: Re: Hi

So you can’t see me but I’m wearing my most penitent face!

Sorry, I really have kept meaning to call you or at least reply to this but things have been kind of shitty. I felt crappy as it was anyway, but it’s just been one never ending parade of calls and forms and trying to deal with all the leftover shit from the wedding and the house. I have about a zillion unanswered texts and voicemails and some are probably yours, I’m really sorry!

I finally have some time to myself (I’m staying at Dean’s) so figured I might as well write all this out now and fill you in while I have some peace and quiet. I was going to call but I’m kind of sick of the sound of my own voice, so figured I’d write. If it gets long, please at least try to make it through to the end!

Though before I start, that is friggin’ awesome about the bakery. I still dream about that blueberry éclair – genius!

So… I hate to say it, but you were right. Drake would’ve been unhappy moving to LA and I would’ve been unhappy staying. Just kind of hit me finally while we were in the car on the way to the church, and something my dad said made it hit home. I’ll assume Trace told you what I said to him about it, but I then had to break up with Drake while we were both standing there in our wedding outfits. I was really upset, he was really angry with me, and it’s all kind of gone downhill from there.

It’s been embarrassing as all hell. The way people look at me when they see me in town or they suddenly start whispering is just crazy. It’s like being you, only without the millions in compensation.

I’ve just been feeling really guilty all the time, like I set him up for a fall he didn’t deserve. He’s so pissed with me that whenever we have to talk about anything to do with the house he’s really sullen. He doesn’t say much; I hate that, it’s so unlike him. It’s making the practical stuff that much harder because he’s defensive and doesn’t want to co-operate. I know I brought that on myself, but it’s why everything’s dragging on so long. Way too much stuff in our joint names so separating it back out is taking forever. That’s why you can never get me on the phone, because I spend my life on hold or being told I’ve come through to the wrong department and they’ll transfer me.

It’s  almost like he thinks I want to go back to LA for some kind of celebrity lifestyle or something and I’m looking down my nose at Shelby and him. I keep telling him he’s being ridiculous, but I think he just wants something to blame.

I’ve been staying at Dean’s. It’s fun but I’ve reached saturation point; little people are exhausting. Hopefully though I can finally get to work on actual move stuff in the next couple of days. Once I can actually do that I think it’ll only be a couple of weeks. Trace said he’s happy to have me crash for a little bit so that saves me needing to find a place right away.

So… yeah, that’s pretty much everything going on with me right now. Just a lot of financial shit and trying to come to terms with my screw up! What about you, how did your shows go? What covers did you do? I’ll let you know when I finally have a move date and then the three of us can arrange my welcome back (I’m thinking couch, beer and pizza).

Reese x

P.S. Not to make you jealous, but your grandma made pineapple cake and your mom gave me some. I’m pretty sure it was pity pineapple cake, but I don’t care. Your people rock.

**

From: jrandall81@zmail.com

To: rbennington@talk.com

Subject: Re: Hi

Hey peanut,

I did make it through to the end - nice that my efforts were rewarded with news of Granny’s betrayal. She is not supposed to make that cake without me. I am insanely jealous, but I suppose I got the bakery so we’re even.

Wish there was something I could do or say to make this better, but you just have to kind of ride it out. I think at least once you get out to LA it’ll give you some distance. It’s probably being stuck there still dealing with all that crap keeping it fresh. I am totally in for pizza and beer and I will even volunteer my own couch for it. (Feel privileged, when it’s Trace I invite myself to his place so I don’t have to clean shit. For you I will vacuum).

For what it’s worth, I really think you did the right thing. It’s not being snooty about Shelby or any dumb shit like that; it’s just being suited to different things. If he can’t see that it’s his problem not yours, you did the best thing. Though… and I can’t believe I’m saying this… don’t think too badly of the dude over the being bitchy thing. You’re hard to lose and it’s tough going. He seems like a decent-ish guy so I don’t think he’ll take as long as some people to get his head out of his ass.

You could imply that as me admitting I had my head up my ass. I can’t confirm or deny.  

Shows went well, covers I did were Poison (the Alice Cooper one – surprised the hell out of people, loved it) and Careless Whisper. Glad to be done though, it was a fun diversion but I definitely need to look at some scripts next. I’m back in LA in a couple of days so we’ll see what comes up.

Call me soon,

JT x

**

From: rbennington@talk.com

To: jrandall81@zmail.com, ayalat@zmail.com

Subject: IT’S ON…

One Reese Bennington coming your way next Friday! The temp agency got me a placement starting on  the Monday after so I’ll have the weekend to settle in. Pizza and beer Saturday? Gives JT plenty of time to vacuum.

Love Reese x

P.S. Trace, I know it’s probably beyond you to actually make up the guest bed but at least make sure there are some clean sheets ready to go, alright?

When Justin Timberlake wanted to relax, he played golf. When he wanted to let off steam, he played basketball. When he needed to think, he ran or he walked.

On this occasion he plumped for the latter. That was partially so he could kill two birds with one stone and exercise the dogs. It was also because he felt too sluggish to run. That was how he found himself in the hills, ambling along.

As it turned out running would have been a bad plan. It was an unseasonably warm day. Even in his t-shirt and shorts he felt overheated. The sole reason he hadn’t peeled his shirt off was that he’d spotted at least one paparazzo roaming around; it would only increase the worth of the photos. (That and he had slacked off his gym routine a little – he was still in perfectly good shape but his abs didn’t have the cut glass definition they did at twenty one. Only in Hollywood were people unreasonable enough to expect it). 

Thankfully whatever paparazzi were on his tail were making good use of their zoom lenses. Keeping their distance was as much as he could hope for; privacy was a beautiful dream.

That was his reason for being up there in the first place; the media was having a field day over his renewed friendship with his ex-fiancée. The snappers were out in force, novelty showing no signs of abating over the weeks. Pictures of them appeared constantly, along with so-called body language experts speculating on their status. Body language appeared to be an exceedingly inexact science - almost everyone drew a different conclusion from the same sets of pictures. It didn’t matter that they were usually in a group. The idea of a reunion was apparently too intriguing.

As Reese correctly surmised, the press didn’t care about her in her own right. As a character in ‘The Justin Timberlake Story’ however she made a perfect addition. First she was the hometown sweetheart who’d won him over the temptations of more famous beauties. Then she was the one who mysteriously got away, leaving the hero of the tale broken hearted. Now she was back in the mix to spice things up and give them some more dross to fill their word counts with. Never mind his actual life story - the tabloids would come up with a narrative for him.

The problem was that fiction intruded on real life. The speculation begged the question of why she hadn’t got married (especially after the salivation over the unlikely possibility of Justin busting up the wedding). They started digging into Reese’s private life and eventually started sniffing around Drake. This in turn put Drake onto the blogs, curious to see why they were bugging him.

Every so often as he walked along Justin was distracted by the dogs – disappearing too far out of eyesight, about to eat something they shouldn’t – but for the most part he concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other. The repetitive and rhythmic nature of it somehow blocked out all extraneous thought. It allowed him to focus on the problem at hand. The weather though hot was beautiful and the hills were a great place for a walk. The grass was starting to look parched, but the flowers were out in full bloom and large bushes cast patches of merciful shade across the path.

Reese had been back in Los Angeles for several weeks. In Justin’s opinion she had progressed to a point where she was (more or less) over the emotional impact of her disastrous wedding. That was down to a few things. The change of scenery was a part, and getting back to work. Temping put her in different places. The constant change and busy nature of it kept her mind occupied, and she was starting to see some longer term prospects. It put colour back in her cheeks; Reese was at her best when she was productive and had something to aim for. It restored the confidence her mistakes had battered.

The biggest part was that shortly after she arrived the last of the practical issues were wrapped. It closed off all remaining ties with Drake. She no longer had to speak with him and be constantly confronted by his hurt. Without those continual reminders she was able to look to her future instead of past missteps. Justin doubted she’d ever remember it without a grimace, but she’d stopped berating herself every other sentence. The topic came up a lot less.

The media’s poorly timed attention brought this all to the fore again - an unwelcome interference on all fronts.

There was no way to know if during those weeks Drake’s feelings softened. Was it possible he’d started to see it was for the best, even if it was painful? If he had it was undone now. Justin didn’t blame him for his outrage, would probably jump to the same inaccurate conclusion in his situation. When you were already bruised, being presented with pictures carefully selected to make it look like your ex was all over some other guy would do that. Reese was still living with Trace and so he’d been in the room when she got Drake’s phone call. Trace’s description was… colourful.  

The reason it drove Justin into the hills that day wasn’t Drake. He hadn’t cared about the guy’s reaction when he’d been trying to win Reese back, so it would be strange to care about it now. The reason Justin was out in this heat, dripping with sweat as his dogs padded happily along beside him, was that it left him unsure where he stood.

Although Reese’s decision ultimately wasn’t about him, it left him room to hope that he could still have a shot. When he left Tennessee that morning there was no such hope. He couldn’t remember a bigger wound to his pride - which said something, given some of his past press coverage. The woman he loved didn’t choose him. It burned. Knowing that he’d at least tried was precious little comfort, though some was better than none. There was nothing to do but resign himself to it; it was a fate he’d brought on himself. Even so, he’d been in great pain until he received that call from Oliver. From his perspective it was the world’s most incredible Hail Mary pass.

At the time he cursed himself for leaving when he did. It was typical Murphy’s Law; only a few hours after he gave up she was suddenly free again. In hindsight however it was a good thing. His presence was an extra complication she didn’t need. Giving her space where she didn’t have to worry about him on top of everything else was better all around. If he stayed she wouldn’t have got that. He wouldn’t have been able to resist getting involved.

Even once she arrived in LA he wasn’t selfish or insensitive enough to press his suit with her immediately. Justin knew that she was genuinely grief stricken. She needed space to get over her break up. Whatever else he thought of the mechanic, Reese cared about him. His priority had to be what she needed, not his own wants, and she needed a friend not a suitor. This was not the time. So instead he chose to put his feelings on the back burner, being there to hang or to listen when she required it without any other agenda.

Now, just when he was beginning to wonder if he could start testing the waters again, here was another roadblock to thwart him. It revived the ghost right when he thought it was ready to be put to rest.

So what did he do now? Did he leave it longer? Did he try his luck anyway? He was keenly aware that passing time only gave her more opportunity to get over him as much as Drake. Besides, if things took too long Reese wouldn’t be the only one who needed to move on. Justin couldn’t put his own life on hold forever. He had received a promising script; he wasn’t sure whether or not to take the role because it would have him shooting in Vancouver for three months. That was both a very short and yet a very long time. A lot could happen in three months.

Justin really would have preferred to have addressed his situation with Reese before he made that decision. If there was a chance then he didn’t want to jeopardise it by leaving. Even if she wanted him back, they would still have some serious rebuilding work to do. If there wasn’t, then a few months away for some healing and perspective would probably be a good thing. Whatever happened, things couldn’t remain as they were. Being so close and yet so far was grinding him down.

Those questions kept rolling around in his head as he watched the brown tails swinging back and forth in front of him. The answers were nowhere to be seen.

**

“Trace?” Reese called out as she closed the door behind her.

“Yo!”

The sound came from the kitchen. “Yo? Who says yo any more?”

“Me, obviously. How was work?”

Her keys joined his in the bowl and she dumped her bag on the floor. Padding barefoot into the kitchen, her feet rejoiced at being out of the stilettos. Trace was sitting at the table, doing something that looked like balancing his books.

Living with Trace made Reese see a different side of him. Despite being his best friend of several decades, she never really saw him in a business or a domestic context. Of course she knew what he did for a living and that he had to run his house like everyone else. Knowing and experiencing were different things. When somebody was your friend – particularly the friend you got into trouble and ill-advised schemes with – you didn’t necessarily see them carrying out their adult responsibilities. She saw him when they were hanging out or lounging around or partying, not when he was being a grown up. In a way, her view of Trace probably hadn’t changed since they were teenagers.

Something about seeing him as he was now, sitting at the table with his finances, made her view him from a new angle. She appreciated that.

“Okay,” she sighed. “Not holding my breath for a permanent position now though. Manager was talking way too much about handovers.”

“That sucks, sorry babe.”

“Eh, I’ll live.” She shrugged before crossing over to the fridge and pulling out a soda. “How about you?”

“Usual,” he said. “Starting to plan next season.”

“Cool.” There was a brief pause as she took a swig of her drink. “You said you were waiting for your samples for today?”

“Didn’t happen. Delays at the warehouse, surprise surprise.”

“Fun never ends. Listen, Sarah wants to do dinner and a movie so I’m planning on heading out for the night after a shower.”

“Okay.”

Trace smiled. He found it funny the way Reese made a point of checking in with him, like he was her mother. She was a big girl, she didn’t have a curfew. He wouldn’t worry if she was out late. Idly he wondered if it was a leftover from living with Justin - now he was a guy who needlessly bothered himself with such things. It used to irritate him when they hung out. If she was more than ten minutes late he got twitchy and distracted. It was rude when you were trying to have a conversation (when he complained Justin simply flipped his middle finger). In fairness to him, Reese was punctual and rarely came in late without a heads up – maybe that had trained Justin to worry if nothing arrived.

Her phone beeped, and she grabbed it out of her pocket. It was her sharp little hiss that caught his attention. Trace’s eyes flicked up at her with curiosity.

“What’s up?”

“Oh, only that breaking up with me does some weird juju, turns perfectly decent guys into jerks.”

“Message from Drake?”

“Dean, actually. Ran into Drake and he was an ass to him.”

“You sure that’s about you?” Trace asked. “Even before you dumped him Dean did beat the crap out of him.”

“Oh I don’t think it was about me.” Reese was tapping her thumb against the screen, wondering what to type. “But I still think he’s got aggravated by all this dumb gossip stuff.”

Trace didn’t think it was so dumb, though possessed too many IQ points to say so. Justin’s gambit hadn’t paid off and he’d taken it as well as could be expected, but small signs of tension still showed. That was probably natural, given how little they ever addressed their break up, but people weren’t blind. It was still there in the way Justin looked at Reese, or offered her a hand to step out of the car. Trace hadn’t yet decided whether it existed in the other direction. Certainly there were shadows of it – the way Reese focused on Justin when he spoke – but nothing he would consider a safe bet. She’d been preoccupied with Drake.

“Give him time. He’s just still sore.”

“That’s the annoying thing. Nade said he was doing better until the press pushed all his buttons again. She said he was starting to talk like at least I did it before not after and that he’d hate LA anyway. I think maybe he was starting to get it.” She let out a despondent sigh.

“She’s still in contact?”

“Yeah, they’re friendly. Which gives me hope,” she said, “the fact that he’s not holding it against everybody linked to me. Apart from Dean, but Dean asked for it.”

“Well, like I keep saying…” The woman really had droned on about the topic ad infinitum. He remained patient because it was well intentioned. She wanted Drake to feel better. “You blindsided him but I would lay money that once he’s processed it all he’ll be decent. You just got to give him his time to be pissed off and work through.”

“I know you’re right.” Reese pushed her hair back through her hand. Her forehead creased into a sad frown. “And it’s not like he got any space to do that, since we had all the house stuff to argue out. It’s just frustrating… like, I don’t expect him to want to be friends again, but I’d like to know that if I see him when I go home things will be civil. And it just pisses me off that the media dragged him in like he hasn’t had a rough enough time already. But then I think, well, I broke up with him so what right do I have?”

“Maybe not, but you’re a good person who cares about him and wants him to feel better.”

He doubted that was one hundred percent altruistic. In part he thought she wanted to ease her own conscience, though for the most it was real concern.

“You know, I never thought I’d say this, but this actually made me kind of understand why Justin was such a jerk about everything. The frustration really is crazy making.”

He snorted. “Yeah, but the difference is you’re sitting here worrying that he’s having a rough time - not being a total bitch to him.”

“I was tempted when he was making the house shit such a pain.”

It was hard to admit, but on occasion her temper started to flare and she’d felt on the brink. After that her moral high ground seemed shakier. How could she get annoyed at him when she was the one who’d caused all that grief? It made Justin’s prior explanations of why he was mad seem less far-fetched.

Drake’s prickliness wasn’t helped by him associating Justin’s reappearance in her life with the collapse of their engagement. Seeing them in the tabloids must hit an already raw nerve, but she couldn’t do a lot about it. It was maddening. Though he didn’t accuse her of cheating he pinpointed that as the start of the trouble. He thought she’d gone back to Los Angeles, made it up with her ex and got stars in her eyes.

That was untrue - she’d long since stopped seeing celebrity as glamorous - but a nagging voice in her head wondered. Did he have a sliver of a point? No matter what it would have been a mistake. It was luckier for them both that it was spotted before the vows. But would she have seen it in the nick of time like that if she hadn’t been forced to confront the reason she ran back to Memphis?

Sometimes, in her darker self-chastising moments, Reese considered that maybe in an oblique way she had been cheating on him. Maybe from the moment she stepped foot in California her thoughts were back with her old life, even if not romantically. Could you platonically cheat?  In a lot of important ways she abandoned him, well before she ended their relationship. All done blithely and without even being aware of it.

That drove a lot of the guilt and responsibility she felt for Drake. How long did he have to suffer the effects of her screw ups?

“Tempted is not doing.” Trace said with brutal matter-of-factness.  Done with his paperwork, he started to pull everything into a neat pile. “Justin has no excuses for being a dick.”

Unexpectedly Reese smiled. Trace couldn’t for the life of him work out why. Why would she look so pleased to remember all the nastiness it took so long to move past? It was because she was remembering the breakfast table exchange in which Justin admitted as much himself. She had solemnly sworn not to divulge it – specifically not his comment about being their asshole - so the cause of her mirth had to remain secret.

“True. I just have to stop worrying about it, I guess. I did the best thing, I’ve done as much as I can to apologise and I can’t do anything else to make him feel any better. Whatever else is up to him,” she said.

“I totally agree. You need to get on with your own life,” Trace said. “I’m sure in time things will settle down and he’ll be okay but there’s zero point in you obsessing on it.”

“Is that Ayala speak for you’re sick of me whining?”

“Yeah, but it’s also true.”

Reese leaned over and hugged him around the shoulders. “You’re a good friend.”

“If by ‘good’ you mean ‘stupendously amazing,’ yeah.”

“God damn it.”

An evil scowl on his face, Drake leaned over and with a swipe picked the wrench back up. It was the third time he’d dropped it in as many minutes. Being preoccupied apparently turned him into a butterfingers. The trouble was there was so much tension in his body that it seeped out in his movement – it was like his muscles were trying to spend some of it for him.

At this stage he was no longer certain exactly what he was brooding on. There were so many things that they were all melding together and becoming indistinguishable. That was hazardous; he was at risk of connecting things that might not truly be related.

There was the jealous part that was annoyed with the stories coming out. There was some residual anger, for sure, though he’d done his best to work on it. Then there was the part of him that was simply upset and missed the good times. Confusingly, there was also a voice in his head which actually thought he was an idiot for still being bugged about any of it anyway. Before he’d been fool enough to start reading press cuttings, he’d barely thought about Reese for a week. That was major progress. Why had he given into the curiosity? What did he hope to achieve? All he’d done was wind himself back up.

The mere fact that Reese jilted him was proof enough that they weren’t ultimately right, wasn’t it? Simple logic dictated that it was better to find that out before rather than after vows. If he’d been starting to feel better before the media decided she and Timberlake were news then why should that derail it now? Even if it was true, she was single. There had been a respectable gap. Whatever her romantic present or future it didn’t alter any other conclusion he’d come to about the past.

So why the ire?

Feelings weren’t that logical, he supposed. That was why he’d been unable to resist finding out why the press was knocking on his door. That was why a simple brake pad change was giving him so much trouble. He couldn’t concentrate.

“Hello?”

“Back here!” he called out. The voice was familiar enough by now.

Sure enough, the red hair appeared around the corner. Standing there in an understated navy suit with a briefcase in her hand, Nadine didn’t really look like herself. He supposed that being an accountant people expected you to look very serious, but in her off time she wasn’t very serious at all. He was used to seeing her in much brighter outfits.

Drake was now used to seeing her a lot - in the months since the wedding, she had taken it upon herself to keep a check on him to make sure he was doing okay. He appreciated that. Half of him suspected she was probably reporting back to Reese, but since her concern still seemed genuine he ignored that. Whatever else, she was a friend and he needed them at the moment. Specifically, he needed ones who didn’t think the answer to his problems was to bitch about his ex.

Though well-intentioned, a lot of his male friends acted like he should be over it already. If he brought it up they responded in extremes – either by dodging it or by going over the top in their criticism. They seemed to believe that if they could only convince him she was horrible he’d be able to flip a switch and forget. His overwhelming impression was that they were made uncomfortable by his pain. They’d prefer him to pretend everything was fine.

Sometimes he preferred that himself, but on the few occasions that he needed a vent it was wearisome. Nadine had stepped into the breach as a sympathetic ear.

“Hey slugger,” she smiled brightly. “On your own again, huh?”

“Yeah, Johnny had a family thing so I told him to scoot early. Don’t tell Joe.”

“Your secret’s safe with me.” Nadine noticed that the other mechanics always seemed to have something going and Drake was always left carrying the can for them. She wasn’t sure whether he was being played or it just suited him. “So I only stopped by because I heard what happened with Dean. You okay?”

Some people would have come under a pretext. She was far too blunt to do so, and Drake was never quite sure if he liked that or not. On the one hand it was transparent. There was no waiting for the real agenda to become clear. On the other, there was a certain social nicety and easing in that came with the pretext; you didn’t get that with Nadine. She’d hit you with the whammy and wind you in the process.

“Yeah.” He stifled a sigh. “Guess I was a little pissy.”

“You were a lot pissy, the way he tells it.”

“You blame me?”

“I wouldn’t say blame, exactly… but maybe you were taking something out on him that isn’t his fault.”

“It isn’t his fault he tried to smash my face in?”

She gave him a sardonic glare. “Because that was exactly what I was referring to.”

“What do you want me to say?”

Drake tossed the wrench back in the tool box and wondered if he should quit for the night. This wasn’t a difficult job and normally he could finish it without staying too late. Today his head was not in the game. Picking up a rag, he started wiping off his hands.

“Yeah, I’m pissed off at a lot of stuff. Yeah, Dean probably copped some of that. Yeah, I probably ought to be mature and accepting and shit but I’m not a friggin’ saint.”

“It’s kind of a shame,” she said. “I actually think you two could make it up, you know. He liked you.”

“Only one of her brothers who did,” he muttered.

“You and Ollie have more in common than you think. Like, oh, say, blowing up at one person when you’re actually mad about something else.”

“I’m not mad at Reese.”

“The fact that you immediately assumed I meant her might suggest otherwise.”

“You know, this whole adopting the ex program of yours is really irritating.”

“You dig me and you know it.” Nadine remained unabashed. She merely shrugged off her jacket and tossed it on the bench. Sitting down on it, she crossed her ankles and started swinging them. “Seriously, I just came over because I don’t think you’d have blown up at Dean like that if you weren’t stressed. Do you need to talk?”

“If I did I’d call.”

“No you wouldn’t - that’s kind of the problem. You’re Mr Stoic-Pretend-Everything’s-Fine guy.”

Drake shook his head. “I’d call it manning up and getting on with shit.”

“Which is a good idea… in moderation. When it becomes sticking your head in the sand and repressing shit then it’s not good for you.” Though she was blunt, Nadine wasn’t unkind. Her voice was softening and she was looking at him with affection. “Look, you’ll stand there and shrug and say you’re alright but it’s not easy and it’s okay if you’re feeling some stuff. It’s just not okay to bottle that up and let it explode on innocent bystanders, for your sake as much as theirs.”

With a sigh, he shook his head and looked at her. “Thought you were supposed to be on my side, not Dean Bennington’s.”

She smiled back at him. The teasing was a good sign. “Known him since we were kids and he taught us all the good cuss words. That’s a strong bond.”

“Fair enough.”

Drake started picking up his tools and putting them back in their assigned places at his work station. This ought to be the work of mere seconds, but he was stretching it out. It bought him some thinking time. Was she right? Should he talk about it? Spilling his guts didn’t come naturally to him, but would it help?

“Do you think it’s true?”

Nadine’s answer was slow and careful. “Do I think what’s true?”

“You know.” He gave her a pointed look. “All those articles about Reese.”

Nadine needed to tread softly on this one. Was that choice of words significant? The articles weren’t really about her, after all. They were about the pop star. He was the celebrity, not her. Sure Drake knew her far better than him, but did he really read them and see more of a commentary on her than on the insanity that was the Timberlake Celebrity Show?

“If it is she hasn’t said anything to me.”

“Would she?”

“Yeah,” she replied without hesitation. She disliked Justin but that didn’t mean she refused to listen to Reese’s chit chat about what she was up to. It would be childish to do so because it might involve him. “And honestly, I’d be surprised if it was because when I’ve spoken to her it’s all about her job, or catching up with me, or her asking if you’re doing okay. Obviously she’ll start dating eventually, but up ‘til now I really think she’s been too preoccupied getting over you to worry about anybody else.”

Some part of him wanted to take hope from that – the part that was desperate to believe she’d loved him as much as he loved her. The part that remembered her saying she’d have waltzed off to LA without him wouldn’t let it.

“She seemed over it when she was racing out of here.”

“Look, Drake...” She shifted uncomfortably on the counter. “I hope you don’t think for a second that hurting you was easy for her. She was never going to run off and go jump some other guy like it was nothing.”

Well, that was the trouble wasn’t it? He got the impression that he wasn’t merely some other guy. Nobody could convince him that the timing was a happenstance. The ex came back into her life, and slowly the engagement started failing. What did that mean in terms of events and what happened when? Drake wasn’t sure. He only knew that he’d spent enough time worrying about her previous relationship even before he was left at the church.

Now there seemed to be a possibility of its resurrection. If that was so then it couldn’t be brand new. Even if nothing happened at the time, there would’ve been some undercurrent of it all the while. That was a disheartening thought - maybe she’d been with him but not truly with him the entire time. Could anybody blame him for being a little mad at the world? Though her behaviour was ultimately blameless it was still a bitter thing to swallow. It would almost be easier if she’d done something wrong; at least that would be clear cut.

“I don’t know. You really think it was a big coincidence that he turned back up and then this all happened?”

“Well…”

“I don’t like that pause.”

She rolled her eyes. “I need a second. Trying to be impartial about Justin takes me some working up to.”

“Why do you hate him so much anyway?”

The intent behind that question was to subtly pry into the original break up. Nadine didn’t realise, but in any event would never have been drawn on the subject.

“There was no big bust up or anything, we’ve just always clashed. I think he’s hell spawn and he thinks I’m a bitch.”

Over the years a few armchair psychologists hypothesised that it was jealousy, she felt left out of the trio. That wasn’t true. She’d never desired inclusion precisely because she didn’t like Trace or Justin. Even so, somehow they’d managed to function in their loathing without driving Reese insane over the years. That was probably because (despite the steady stream of insults) nobody was at all territorial in their behaviour. Nadine didn’t pout if Reese turned down a night out because she was with Trace. When they’d lived together Justin didn’t sulk about Nadine’s visits. On the big occasions, they sucked it up.

“Reese thought he was an asshole too, right up until they went away together,” Drake pointed out as he finished putting away the tools. The next job was to do the rounds and start turning off all the equipment as necessary.

Twisting her bracelet around her wrist, Nadine thought about that. “That’s true, but I don’t think it means what you think it does.”

Bristling, he glared at her. That comment felt presumptuous. “What do I think it means?”

“Well, the way you’re talking it sounds like you think she dumped you for him. Am I wrong?”

All you could hear was the steady whirring of the machinery as he lowered the garage door.

“I’m taking that as a no,” she replied with a wry drawl. “The thing you have to understand is that she never left LA because she really wanted to change her job or her life there. It was just too awkward for her, so when they became friends again it made her rethink her plans. But if you notice, right up until the last second she was still trying to include you.”

“What you getting at?”

“What I’m getting at is that if it was all about him, then she wouldn’t have done that. Her first thought wouldn’t be to try and take you with her. It’s like she told you, the pair of you just wanted different things and she didn’t realise that quick enough. Whatever is or isn’t going on with them now wasn’t part of your break up.”

“I just… I will never get it.” Drake scratched at the back of his neck. When he was annoyed all the tension went to the muscles there. He couldn’t seem to get the kink out. “She and I had talked about all that stuff so many times before. We were agreed on everything, until suddenly after a few days in LA she’s got other ideas.”

“I think it was one of those things where she wanted it to be true so much she didn’t really see that it wasn’t, not until she kind of got hit upside her head with it. I know she feels awful that you got caught up in that.”

“I wish that made me feel better,” Drake said. “I mean, I know she’s sorry, but… fuck. I just had everything banking on her, you know?”

“Oh please. You’re a good looking, charming guy who wants to get married and settle down with the picket fence and the kids and the dog and shit. If you think Reese was your only shot you’re either too modest for your own good or just friggin’ dense.”

For the first time that day, something actually made him laugh. “I’ll try and take that as a compliment.”

“Seriously, hon,” she continued. “Once you’re ready to get back out there you’re not going to have a problem finding somebody on the same wavelength.”

“I know you’re probably right but… I can’t explain it. I know that everything you’re saying and that she said makes sense, but I still can’t help feeling like I got passed up for a better offer and that gets me. I try to be the good guy and understand, but I still have an ego like everybody else.”

“No, you shouldn’t look at it like that.” Nadine shook her head vehemently. “Reese still thinks the world of you, you know.”

With everything switched off, the last thing to do was have a quick sweep. Even after sweeping the floor would still look filthy, but at least it wouldn’t be covered in black dust. When you got that on your shoes it tracked everywhere. Even Reese, who hated all her mother’s rules about shoes, used to make him take his boots off outside.

“Can’t help thinking she thought more of somebody else.”

“Trust me, if I could find some way to blame Timberlake for all this I would, but this is a bona fide blameless situation. She’s told me again and again why she did what she did and his name did not come up. She wasn’t looking for anybody else. And if she is now… well, not to be harsh but it’s been long enough. She’s allowed and you need to deal with it. Honestly, I thought you were until you started reading all those dumb reports. You should just ignore it, it doesn’t change anything.”

In some measure she was telling herself as much as Drake. Although she found the relationship unfathomable, it seemed clearer than ever to her that for whatever reason her best friend needed her least favourite person. Whether it was platonic or romantic, she functioned better when he was around. Nadine would never comprehend it but she didn’t have to. So long as nobody expected her to fake playing nice it was all good; she loved Reese and wanted what was best for her. She’d sucked it up before and would again.

“You’re right, you’re right.” Drake heaved an irritated sigh. Nadine might be blunt but sometimes that was the medicine. “I just… you know how you could logically know something but your emotions take a little while to catch up?”

“I do – which is exactly why I stopped by to bug the crap out of you until you expressed some. Venting is healthy. And stops you being a douche to people for the crime of being related to your ex.”

“Man.” He chuckled. “You’d think that when I lost the fiancée I could have ditched her crazy best pal in the bargain.”

“Please - if I stopped talking to my guy friends just because they broke up with one of my girlfriends I would be avoiding every male in Shelby under the age of 40. Perils of living in a small town.”

“Eh, you’re not so bad. Guess I’ll keep you.”

“I’ll take that as ‘thank you Nadine for your wise counsel, I will listen to you and work through my issues.’ You’re welcome.”

“Sounds like the way to take it.”

It wasn’t sarcastic; it was a quiet endorsement. Nadine’s technique might have been forthright, some would even say abrasive, but he knew it was in his best interests. In the scheme of things she was correct. No matter what else was going on, he should drop the baggage and move on. Nothing changed the fundamental fact that as much as he loved Reese the two of them wanted different things out of life. She’d done him a favour when she cut him loose, as hard as it was to see it that way.

It was true – he’d been well on track with that thought process until the reporters had hit the raw nerve again. He shouldn’t let this set him back. Luckily for him he had a pushy and overbearing friend to prod him back into his senses.

“Glad we worked it out,” she said. “So, feel like pizza?”

“It’s time.”

“What?”

“It’s time.”

“What are you talking about?”

Reese arched an eyebrow at them with a naughty glint. “Where’s the hat?”

“Oh!” Tiffany’s eyes lit up. “It’s at the booth…”

She rushed off into the crowd, Sarah rolling her eyes at her retreating back. “Really? I hate that hat.”

“The hat rules.”

“Every time I put that hat on, crazy shit happens!”

“Exactly why it rules. It’s your birthday, you have to.”

“It won’t go with my outfit!”

Now it was Reese’s turn to roll her eyes. “It’s a top hat; it doesn’t go with any damn outfit. So what?”

“It’s my birthday, why are you making me?” Sarah whined.

It was true that it wouldn’t go with her outfit – a blue tunic dress – but it was the hat’s cosmic effect she feared. It never failed. They went out for somebody’s birthday, had a few drinks and some fun, and then somehow the hat infected everybody with the spirit of madness. Wackiness began the moment the hat came out. Nights involving the hat wound up in stronger hangovers.

“It’s tradition. You have to. And if you won’t do it for you, do it for me.”

“Why for you?”

“I had a really terrible day. Seeing you in that hat will lift my spirits! You want to lift my spirits, don’t you? Why wouldn’t you do that for me?”

“You are so full of shit.”

Yet even as she said so Sarah was accepting the proffered hat from Tiffany and jamming it resentfully on her head. Emotional blackmail was the pits. “What now?”

Tiffany grinned. “Time for some shots.”

**

“Thanks.” Justin accepted the bottle and took a sip. “Do you see them?”

“Nah, place is packed,” Trace said. “We’ll find ‘em eventually.”

The place was more packed than Justin’s security team would normally allow. It took a lot of protesting that it was a private party before they relented. They wouldn’t have given in if this was any old night in a club with normal punters. It struck him now how few of Sarah’s wider circle he was acquainted with. Looking around the room, he recognised only a few as people she worked with. That was purely because once upon a time Reese worked there too. He’d attended some work functions (not many, because it soon became clear that his presence drew the wrong kind of attention to her).

Everybody was obviously having a good time. Trace and Justin were required at a business dinner for their label so missed the first portion of the evening, but arrived just as everybody had a good buzz on. Alcohol was flowing, the music was loud, and there was a loud hum of chatter even above the speakers. They’d left Justin’s security on guard outside with the club’s VIP room security and ventured over to the bar to start catching up. The night was still young, it was Saturday, and they were both in the mood to shake off the day.

Leaning against the bar, Trace took a swig of his drink. His eyes still scanned the room. “So now we’re away from the suits, what did you really think?”

Justin’s lips twisted sideways. “I don’t think they really get what the brand’s about.”

“Me too,” he responded. “It was good stuff but too formal.”

“So it’s a no?”

“Agreed.” The next morning he’d call to turn them down. “Though if nothing else, that’s three weeks back for your schedule.”

“Ha.” Part of the proposal involved Justin travelling around launching the new range. He wasn’t disappointed. “Sorry not sorry. Think I’d prefer to stay put a while.”

“Oh? That mean Vancouver’s out too?”

“Undecided.”

“You’d better hurry up, man. They won’t hang on much longer for you.”

“I know, I know.”

His long fingers reached under his beanie and scratched at his hair. He might have to ditch it in a minute; it felt warm in the packed bar. Though it was a smart place they both kept it as casual as they dared in jeans and shirts. Possibly the superstar status helped Justin (therefore Trace by association) get away with it.

“What’s the hang up?”

“Don’t know if I want to be away that long. I’d prefer something shooting closer to home, but it is the best script I currently got. I don’t know.”

That wasn’t a dilemma he could shed much light on, so he merely shrugged. “Maybe that’s your gut saying no?”

“Maybe. I’m not in a very decisive mood right now I guess.”

“Well hey, it’s Saturday night. Who needs to decide anything other than their next drink?”

Justin clinked the neck of his beer bottle against Trace’s in a toast. “Amen, brother.”

Loud whooping rose above the noise of the crowd. Both men turned to see the commotion, letting out amused grunts simultaneously. Sarah was in the famed birthday top hat and standing on top of a table with Shauna and Tiffany. It was obvious that she wasn’t there willingly. Sandwiched between them, she grimaced while they danced and tried to cajole her into the same. Reese was the one hollering as she snapped photos.

“Told you we’d find ‘em.” Trace said drily.

“Well at least Reese looks happier,” Justin commented.

Breaking into a smile, he watched as she clambered onto the table to snap a group selfie. They had to hurry as the bouncer was already coming over to order them all down. He wasn’t sure how she managed it in the precarious looking heels, but on the bright side at least she was wearing pants. Tiffany was in a mini skirt and in danger of showing off more than intended.

“Happier?”

“Didn’t she tell you?”

“Haven’t talked to her since this morning.”

“Somehow the agencies got hold of the wedding photos.”

“What?” He was confused. “How were there any photos to get hold of?”

“They had photographers while they were getting ready,” Justin told him. “It was some dumb story about how I’ve been chasing after her and it was me made her back out on the day. She was pissed, texted me about it all through lunch.”

“Really?” Shoving a hand in his pocket, a pensive frown crossed Trace’s face – he really had thought she was getting past it. Certainly since he’d advised her to let it go he hadn’t heard anything else on the topic. “When did she start reading those damn sites? She knows better.”

“Oh she doesn’t give a shit about the story,” he said. “It was the pictures. Just the fact they got them was enough, but apparently in every one of ‘em she looked like she had an appointment with the firing squad.”

“Apparently?”

“I haven’t seen them, taking her word for it.” The temptation was there, but in his current state of mind viewing pictures of her in a veil wasn’t smart. “But I think seeing the evidence stirred things again. Though…” He gestured in her direction with his free hand. “Seems like she’s not dwelling on it this time.”

“That’s an improvement. Let’s follow suit.”

“Agreed,” Justin said. Although he’d brought it up, he was more than a little sick of that stupid wedding. One way or another it had been dominating his life far too long. Maybe that was another reason to say yes to Vancouver. “Think I’m gonna look for Ben.”

He set off into the crowd, Trace close on his heels.

**

“I mean, I just don’t get it.” Shauna gestured along the bench at the quartet. “Look at us! We’re some seriously sexy bitches.”

“I would’ve gone with seriously drunk, but okay.” Tiffany smirked before taking another drag of her cigarette.

Sarah’s designated hour in the hat was done. Hi-jinks ensued but everybody made it out alive. Sarah had needed to smoke to calm her ‘damn nerves’ (as she put it). It was a bit of a wild ride. Neither Reese nor Shauna smoked but they’d followed them onto the patio to keep them company. At that stage fresh air was no bad thing. They were all over heated. Shauna’s eyeliner was making tell tale moves under her eyes. Reese was so dishevelled that Ben had (charmingly) told her that she ought to seek a mirror (she hadn’t). Tiffany was the only one who still looked presentable.

“Speak for yourselves,” Reese said. “Some of us were smart enough to turn down the tequila.”

An extended break for water instead of more shots left her in better shape than the rest. Even so, she’d thrown herself so wholeheartedly into the mischief that she looked as bad as any of them. She couldn’t remember the last time she felt so carefree. She loved it. Any shadow of her earlier upset was gone.

It wasn’t all plain sailing. She’d barely seen her boys. When she did it was the uncomfortable experience of watching as a stranger flirted with Justin. The feeling was bizarre, even though they were long since broken up. He was doing nothing wrong; this was always going to happen eventually. She was as prepared as she’d ever be but it was still alien. There were always women willing to try their luck but it had been many years since there was any possibility of them getting anywhere. She was so unused to it that it was more like seeing him in one of his movies than real life.

It wasn’t a problem but it was weird. For a little while it left her in a funny mood – a mood which was fixed by requesting some 80s classics and making Sarah dance with her.

“Whatever.” Shauna was unhappy with the interruption. “I’m saying, for seventy five percent of us to still be single something’s wrong with the male species.”

“Nope,” Reese said, “it’s not the male species that are weird for avoiding us. It’s Ben for being suckered in.”

“What?” Shauna protested. “Hell no!”

“Didn’t you see the public spectacle we just made of ourselves? Face it babe, we may be sexy bitches but we’re crazy bitches. Drake ought to thank me for dumping him and saving his ass.”

The initial reaction of the other three was awkwardness. That soon dissipated when they saw the way their friend began to crack up. It wasn’t false or embarrassed. It wasn’t caustic or making a joke as a defence mechanism. Reese was cackling out loud and her whole body was folding over with it. Her head hit Sarah’s arm and she was in hysterics. It was infectious.

“Oh my God…” Tiffany struggled to breathe. She already had a stitch.

“It was when I sent my damn shoe flying across the room…” Shauna’s eyes squeezed shut, as if closing them would make it all a dream.

“No,” Reese replied, clutching at her arm. “It was when she managed to tip that entire drink in Trace’s lap and just said ‘you look like you peed yourself’ as if she wasn’t the reason.”

“Do you realise how many people I work with are here?” Sarah shrieked, hiding her face in her hands. “I am never living this down!”

“Hey, I’m sure not all of them saw.” Tiffany stroked her arm. “Maybe one or two were in the bathroom?”

That set off the giggling again, and that was how Justin found them. He’d also stepped outside for some air. The sight amused him greatly. They were all curled up against each other, clutching each other’s hands or arms and practically crying. The hysterics were starting to die down and they were trying to regain control, but every so often it still came out. Shauna’s eye make up was everywhere, Reese’s hair was a wild mess of curls and Sarah’s face was still in her hands.

“Having fun, ladies?”

“Worst party ever,” Shauna replied.

“If I get fired for this on Monday, can I be one of your back up dancers?” Sarah asked.

Justin folded his arms, looked along the row and shook his head. “Having seen your skills I’m going to have to say thanks but no thanks.”

“Actually that’s a good idea, let’s go dance again!” She remained undeterred.

Tiffany and Shauna jumped up with her, but when she reached out a hand to Reese she shook her head.

“I need to recover, y’all go. I’ll be there in a minute.”

“Y’all. Y’all! She’s so country,” Shauna giggled, stumbling sideways into Sarah.

The Tennessee two rolled their eyes at that comment but the others were already scurrying back inside. Justin made a tutting sound with his tongue before sliding onto the bench next to his friend.

“I see you’ve had a good time.”

“Damn straight.” There was a toothy smile on her face, and he was heartened to see it. “You?”

“More sedate than yours, I think.” He came outside intending to smoke, but instead he folded his arms and slumped back comfortably. The cool air was pleasant after the heat of the crowd. “But yeah, just been talking to some people. Sarah’s friends are nice.”

Reese refrained from asking about anyone in particular. It would only make him uncomfortable and was none of her business anyway. “So I barely even said hello to you yet, how was your day? How was your business thing?”

“Went okay but I think we’ll pass. I’m more leaning to this script I think.”

“The hockey team one?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh, cool.”

Reese crossed one leg over the other, turning her body towards him. Her eyes darted over the long frame lazily stretched out in front of her. In dark jeans, a white t-shirt and blue shirt, he was a little scruffy but looking good. The shirt played up his eye colour. As he talked she watched his jaw – there was too much stubble, he needed to shave.

“When would you film?”

“Four weeks’ time, up in Vancouver.”

“Vancouver?” This was news. He’d mentioned the movie but not the location. “How long?”

“Three months.”

“Oh. Wow.”

She was silent while she pondered that idea. Three months was actually quite tame by his standards. When he went on tour he was typically away for a year, on and off. Long absences were a staple of their friendship since he first joined the Mickey Mouse Club. She barely remembered a time when that wasn’t the case. Even so, the thought dampened her high. Justin had been right when he predicted how fast their friendship would recover once they finally called truce. She was back to the place where separation was a heavy notion. That was unwelcome, coming just when she’d started feeling lighter lately.

“Sounds cool. You definitely decided?”

“Hmm…” He twisted his hand from side to side.  “I could go either way.”

She tried not to look too visibly cheered. “Well I wish I had anything to tell you but… same shit different day. And I think you already witnessed every funny story I have about tonight.”

“Yeah.” He chuckled, looking at her with a wry glint. “You ladies know tonight has completely destroyed all claims that Harmony was the one who got you into all the trouble, right?”

She shrugged. “Like you believed it anyway.”

“Nah, I know you too well. You were always the one getting everyone else in hot water and somehow coming out smelling of roses.”

Reese knew what he was referring to – namely high school – but even so it stung. It was too close to some of the self-flagellation she’d been doing too much of.

“Well damn, do you have to make me sound so evil?” She joked. “Ouch!”

Justin tipped his head back, closing his eyes in chagrin. Why was his foot always so determined to relocate to his mouth? “After all these years, it’s amazing you still let me talk.”

“Eh, I always know what you mean.”

Bringing his gaze back down to his folded arms, he nodded. His eyes skated sideways, flickering over her. The girl had clearly partied with all her might. Even if he hadn’t witnessed it he would have known. The hair neatly curled for the outing was now big and wild. The smoky eyes were smudged, her lipstick almost completely gone – doubtless the pink marks were against a few dirty glasses on their table. Even so, the shine of enjoyment was in her eyes and she looked good. The form fitting khaki boiler suit and gold heels would have been strange on anybody else but she pulled it off somehow. She looked more like herself than she had for months.

 “That you do.”

“Funny to think, huh?”

“How’d you mean?”

“It’s been a really long time. And a lot of crazy shit,” she added.

He looked at her with a quizzical purse of his lips. “Not following you.”

“Just that we’re still here and I still know what you mean. And… you know what, I don’t even make sense to me any more. Maybe I should cool it for the next few rounds.”

Her giggle was oddly melodic. It always amused him how melodic her laugh was, given that in general she had zero melody. Of the pair he’d received all the musical talent. You could at least credit her with a little rhythm but she wasn’t much of a dancer either.

He reached out and rubbed her arm. “You always make sense to me, you lil’ lush.”

“Ha.” Her hand came to rest on top of his. “Maybe this is the booze making me mushy, but I’m really glad we still have that. Let’s not lose it again, okay?”

“Pssh.” She’d made him as wistful as she had gratified by that statement. “It was… just a… brief hiatus.”

“No *NSYNC fan could ever trust your idea of a hiatus, Timberlake.”

Her joke about Drake earlier wasn’t a diversionary tactic. This one undoubtedly was. She got too deep for her own comfort there – she blamed the alcohol – and she didn’t want to take that any further. Trouble was she’d lost too many close people lately, in various ways, and thus far he was the only one she’d recovered. Justin was too important to let slip again.

Possibly she wouldn’t be so insecure about it in this moment if it hadn’t been for her little upset earlier in the day. It was an unwanted reminder of how badly she could get things wrong and what a soap opera she’d been living in. Even when you cut the tabloid embellishment out the truth sounded bad enough.

Still, she was having too much fun to make herself melancholy. The disaster was eventually averted and they’d fixed things. There was no need to worry about it any more.

Justin took his hand back so he could loop his arm around her shoulders. Immediately she nestled in under it, her own arm snaking around his waist to return the hug. His lips pressed against the crown of her head, and remained there in her hair as he talked.

“I know you had a lot of upheaval lately Reese but it’s alright. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Except maybe Vancouver.” There was another anxious zinger.

“I don’t know. We’ll see.”

When in doubt, abruptly changing the subject was a good fallback. “Is it weird that suddenly I have no energy left?”

Justin glanced at his watch. “No, it’s nearly quarter past one already and you’ve been going hard peanut. You’re probably due a crash.”

“That late? Might find Trace and see if he wants to go home.”

“Then I’m about to drop Trace in it because he already went home.”

“What?” She complained. “Didn’t think I’d want to share the cab?”

“He figured you were in until the bitter end and you’d go with the girls. If you need an escort though I’m planning on cutting out anyway.”

“Would you mind?” She asked gratefully. “They’re not calling it a night any time soon.”

“Randy’s bringing the car round in about five minutes and I’d feel better than putting you in a cab by yourself. Don’t worry, I’ll take you home.”

“Thanks. You’re a good friend, JT.”

Looking down at the dark curls and the way she was huddled around his body, Justin stifled a sigh. A great friend wasn’t exactly what he wanted to be, but he supposed he had to take what he could get - even if that was merely being the safe ride home.

It took half an hour of staring at the ceiling before Justin realised why he wasn’t falling asleep. It didn’t matter that he wasn’t. Tomorrow (technically today) was Sunday. If he needed a lie in he could have one. Even so, it was a long raucous night and he’d expected to drop off promptly. It wasn’t insomnia, he didn’t feel wide awake. He was sleepy, felt ready to go any second; for some odd reason he didn’t.

Eventually he realised he was listening for Reese.

From force of habit his driver brought them straight to his house instead of stopping by Trace’s. The pair was too busy chatting about the evening’s shenanigans to notice, but Justin waved it off and offered her the spare room. There was enough of her stuff still hanging around that fresh clothes wouldn’t be a problem. (They’d decided there was no point in moving everything to Trace’s only to move them again to her new place once she got it).

They both went upstairs and washed up. Last he’d seen Reese she said goodnight and disappeared downstairs for a glass of water. The reason he wasn’t getting to sleep was that he hadn’t heard her come back. There was little wonder; he was a light sleeper and would be easily woken by movement in the corridor, no matter how quiet. His subconscious was probably waiting for the green light.

With a sense of déjà vu, Justin swung his feet out of the bed. He yanked his sweatpants and a t-shirt back on. Tying the drawstring and giving a yawn as he padded through the door, he called out.

“Reese?”

At least this time when he got downstairs and found it dark he knew where to look. He went to the back door and as expected found it unlocked. The lights weren’t on this time, but a faint orange glow emanated from the windows. He padded across the patio and onto the lawn.

“Reese?”

“In here JT.”

Justin reached the door of the hut and peered in. His hands rose to his hips in mock accusation.

“This sure looks cozy. Said you were tired and here you are, hiding out, drinking my wine.”

“Mine, actually.” She picked up the bottle and turned the label towards him. “Me and Harm went for dinner at the vineyard and I bought a case.”

“Okay, so you didn’t steal my booze,” he conceded. “But I still can’t believe you wanted another drink after all that.”

“I just needed to wind back down,” she said ruefully. “Too wired to sleep but didn’t want to keep you awake walking around the house.”

“Nah, I wasn’t sleeping either. Though what’s with the candles? Didn’t even know I had any.”

Justin strode over and dropped down on the cushions next to her. There were the benches lining the walls, but mostly they would sprawl out on the cushions when they were in there.

“They live here, remember?” She knocked on one of the benches – it was hollow.

“Oh yeah. Forgot.” They’d stashed supplies in there to save trips back and forth. The top was hinged and inside were usually candles, blankets, cups and the like. “So you’re having a romantic moment with yourself?”

“Ha ha.” That earned an elbow to the ribs. “Softer light, little quiet, calm my ass down and then I’ll be able to sleep.”

“Not surprised you need to unwind. You really, uhh… let your hair down.” He chuckled, picking up her glass and taking a sip. The red was fine, but not his thing. She liked hers more full-bodied than he did.

“Get your own, cups are in the bench,” she said with a teasing scold. “And yes I damn well did. I needed that.”

“Thought you said drinking wine out of a solo cup is trashy,” he said. “But as far as your hair goes, I’m glad you had fun. You sounded like you needed it earlier.”

“Oh, that.” Reese’s nose wrinkled in distaste. “Don’t know why I let it bother me, not like those photos said anything I didn’t already know. I’m over it.”

“Good.” Her detachment didn’t appear feigned so he pressed no further. That was as much as he felt like saying about it anyway. “Seriously though, it was good to see you back with your girls.”

“Good to be back.” Her head tilted to the side, content serenity settling over her features. She wasn’t smiling as such, but her eyes were soft. “That was a really good night. Didn’t see enough of you though, where were you hiding?”

“Milling around.” Justin shrugged, sinking further into the cushions. “Wasn’t in the mood to go nuts.”

“Something on your mind?” Her face turned to him and she took another sip.

“Not really.” Another shrug, but the way his bottom lip jutted out told her otherwise. It wasn’t a pout but it wanted to be. “Only that script, but that’s no biggie.”

Reese disagreed. Justin liked a good party and was usually in the thick of it when the debauchery began. Though he accused her of being the mastermind, he possessed a similar (if less potent) knack for encouraging things along without getting his own hands dirty. If it was enough to dampen that spirit then it troubled him more than he was acknowledging.

“What about it?” She coaxed.

“Just… I don’t know. It’s good, but I’m not sure I want to go away right now.”

This was an ethical dilemma. She didn’t want him to go, but it would be bad form to discourage it. “What’s holding you back?”

There was no way he would answer that question truthfully. “I guess the last few months have been kind of unsettled. Now shit’s calmed down should I maybe stop and enjoy it a minute?”

“Oh I hear that.” She raised the glass, meaning to take a sip, but instead she held it to her lips with a pensive gaze at the candles.

“Oh I bet you do.”

“Not funny.”

“It’s been anything but funny, peanut, but sometimes you have to laugh or you’d lose it.”

Eyebrows knitting together, she shifted uncomfortably. She felt more than a little responsible for some of the strain he’d been under. Although he was her friend and he supported her because he wanted to, she was acutely aware of how much she’d been leaning on him. She’d been reliant on her boys as she reacclimatised and worked through her break up. Some might consider it insensitive, given his declarations beforehand, but he wouldn’t have it any other way. She was more grateful than she could tell him. It seemed too risky to touch that button though, even to acknowledge how great he’d been.

Looking back it felt strange that she’d been mad for so long, despite having good reason. How had she lived an existence that he and Trace were no part of? The experience felt second hand somehow, not her history - some wildly out of character blip.

“That’s why tonight was so nice,” she said. “Finally feel like it’s all good from here and the badness is over with.”

“If I had a glass I’d drink to that.”

Her response was to hand hers back and allow him another sip. “Good to be back to normal, right?”

“Right.”

There was another lie of omission hidden beneath. His agreement was sincere but his idea of normal still differed from the current set up. Maybe things had progressed too far in a different direction, he was starting to accept that, but a stubborn part remained unwilling to change.

“Kind of amazing when you think, huh?” The reflection of the flames swayed in her eyes.

“Kind of? Damn miracle we’re friends after everything.”

“Heh.” One side of her mouth tugged upwards. It wasn’t to smile – it was like a weary sigh that never came out. “Maybe not so miraculous.”

His eyebrow rose. “Really? ‘Cause given how much you loathed me our making up so fast pretty much defies physics.”

“That’s the thing though,” she said. “I didn’t, not under it all. In a weird way… I don’t know. I think I was actually ready to hear you out long before I did. Was just being stubborn.”

“I gave you a pretty good reason to be,” he reminded her. 

What he read between the lines was that had he taken a more mature attitude from the outset and actually asked to talk she might have responded (even if it took a little while). That grated. It was one more thing he wished he could change.

“You did, but…” Reese’s lips pressed together as she considered her next words. “Honestly, JT, the more I’ve thought about it the more I think you were… justified is the wrong word, but I guess I blame you less. If there’s anything I worked out lately it’s that I got a lot wrong myself and how that can drive you a little crazy.”

She might not have sighed but Justin did. Only moments ago he’d thought her past it. “Peanut, you got to quit beating yourself up.”

Apart from anything else, he worried that she was transferring too much blame onto herself. You might expect him to be grateful, given it was rightfully his, but he didn’t like it. It didn’t feel fair. Maybe the underlying situation was about both of them but the big mistakes were his. The backbiting was his. The attendant shame belonged to him.

“I’m not,” she replied. “It’s just a factual thing. Like…” She accepted the glass back and put it down. Her arms folded over her chest. “I don’t know how to explain, but actually it’s part of what I mean about how the badness is over. I won’t take that kind of stuff for granted again.”

Justin looked down at his hands where they’d linked. Rolling one thumb around the other, he mulled that over.    

“I get you. You feel like you grew from the whole thing even if it’s sucked.”

“Exactly.”

“I don’t know. Still look the same to me,” he teased gently.

“You can laugh, buddy.” With an index finger Reese poked his cheek. “Like you’re not a major improvement on the previous version.”

He groaned. “Are you going to remind me what an asshole I was forever?”

“Probably got another six months before you’ve done full penance,” she joked. “Seriously though, you did make it right and you’ve been pretty great since. I really don’t know how I’d have survived all this without you and Trace.”

“That’s just how we do. Rain or shine we’re with you, peanut, you know that.”

“And we’re back to that’s pretty incredible, considering.”

“Yeah.” He spoke the word less than exhaled it.

A companionable hush fell as they stared at the candles. It was soothing to watch the flames flicker in the darkness. The glow cast was soft and warm. Justin wouldn’t admit it but she was right about using them instead of the lamp. This was more relaxing. Reese’s wine was forgotten; instead she nestled her cheek into one of the pillows and sank back. She was half tempted to have Justin to pass her a blanket and sleep out here.

It was a few minutes before she felt compelled to break the silence.

“We should hang like this more often. I’ve missed this.”

“Me too.” It was an effort to keep his voice level.

“Umm… is it really selfish if I say forget the script and stay here to hang?” She was split squarely between kidding and being serious.

“Heh. Right now I’m not sure I got energy to go back inside, much less to Canada. How long will supplies last until one of us has to get up?”

“We have no food out here and I am not peeing in the bushes.”

Even chuckling seemed like too much exertion but he did anyway, shoulders twitching slightly with it. Seeing Reese about to fall asleep, Justin smiled. She looked so small and unassuming like this, in her plaid pyjama pants and the black tank. It was funny comparing her to the party animal of earlier.

“Tempting though.”

“Yep.”

He brushed her hair back where it was falling on her cheek. “You look done. Bedtime for you.”

She was but this moment was too nice. “You sure we can’t stay here?”

“Every time you ever said that to me, you woke up in the morning complaining you were cold and your back hurt.” He was rising even as he said it.

“Good point.”

Begrudgingly dragging herself into a sitting position, she accepted the hand offered and allowed him to pull her up. Picking up the glass and bottle, she bent over the window sill to blow out the candles. The strong smell of smoke hit her nose as the final sparks died on the wicks.

Together they left the hut. Justin pushed the door closed behind them and they set off across the lawn.

“Seriously,” she said as they reached the patio, “would you want to forget Vancouver?”

“Really?” His eyebrows rose, then shifted closer together as he frowned. “You don’t want me to go?”

“Okay, you say it like that and I realise how selfish this is so ignore me.”

“No, what?” He pressed. He held the door open and allowed her to step into the house before entering and locking up behind himself.

“I know this sounds silly, but with things back to normal… I don’t know. Things have been so heavy and we’re getting out the other side, finally. I suddenly thought that we won’t be able to kick back and enjoy that together, but that’s a dumb reason to pass up a good role. Ignore me.”

His eyes moved over to her without meeting hers. They hovered around her nose and cheekbones. “That’s not dumb.”

“No, you’ve been here for me more than enough. You should do something for yourself for a change.”

She moved into the kitchen and Justin followed. “Who says it wouldn’t be for myself?”

“I appreciate you being nice,” Reese said as she stashed the bottle away and discarded the glass in the sink, “but don’t worry.”

“I’m being totally self-serving, not nice,” he replied with curt exasperation. “Maybe you forgot, but I’ve been busting my ass to get back to this for months. Why wouldn’t I want to stick around if you’re telling me you want me to?”

When she looked back on this exchange, she wouldn’t be able to tell what tipped her off. Possibly it was the overreaction. The voice held unnecessary bite and was too irritated in context of the conversation. Otherwise it might be the timeline he mentioned, an agenda he’d held for a while. Whatever the subtext was it tapped on the inside of her skull.

Maybe it wasn’t the words but his newly smouldering expression. Justin could be rather intense sometimes. It all radiated out from the clench of his jaw and the deep lines that would appear across his forehead.

There was also the matter of her reaction. Butterflies made vigorous protest in her stomach, and there was a lifting sensation in her chest. Reese was too happy with that response.

“Then I do. Want you to.”

“Then I will.”

“Okay then.”

“Okay.”

“I, umm… what are you doing tomorrow? Or today, technically?”

“Nothing.”

“Want to start then?”

“Sure.”

There was another tension filled pause before she spoke again. “Justin?”

“Yes?” From his tone it seemed very possible that she was getting on his nerves. His arms had folded over his chest and he wasn’t looking at her.

“What if… what if we…”

“Yes?”

“Made it a date?”

Lord how she wished it hadn’t come out sounding so squeaky and small and like she had all the swagger of a mouse. She wished she looked more self-assured; the frightened little girl stance wasn’t a winner. Unfortunately the second she’d said it out loud the sheer magnitude walloped her in the face. That would knock anyone’s confidence.

Justin’s head snapped up, mouth dropping open. “A date? Are you serious?”

“Well… yeah.” Answering rhetorical questions was pointless but she did anyway.

Maybe it was inevitable that as she came full circle in everything else she came back around to him too.  After all was said and done he was still her rock and the person she wanted to be around. Maybe he’d shown off a few character flaws in recent history, but so did she. Watching somebody else flirt with him had been too disquieting, a reminder that he couldn’t be expected to wait forever.

If anything she felt slow for not realising earlier. She’d already noted the way she mentally checked out of her engagement once they got back on good terms. Their reconciliation may not have been romantic but was no less significant for it. Nobody rushed back into being that close that fast if their feelings had changed. Evidently she’d repressed hers, not moved past them.

His first response was to stand there and blink a few times. A quick review was in order, a short sanity check to reassure him that his senses were in working order. No, she was still looking at him in suspense – not crazy, then.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Uhh… great.”

Both remained rigid, eyeing each other with edgy apprehension.

“Well… guess it’s bedtime,” she concluded lamely. “See you in the morning.”

There was an art to shuffling out with discreet speed (not giving away your embarrassment). Reese was good at it. Her stride was naturally long; she could cover ground without appearing hasty. This didn’t stop her feeling the eyes boring into her back. It didn’t prevent her from concentrating too much on the sound of his footsteps behind hers as she ascended the stairs. She could even smell him – something of the bar still clung to him, alcohol and cigarette smoke, but it was blunted by the fresh air and dewy grass outside.

It was when she reached her door that a long fingered hand closed around her wrist. Her body had already begun to turn when the hand tugged it the rest of the way. She collided with his chest. Even before Justin’s arms closed around her waist hers instinctively reached around his back. When their lips met it knocked the breath from her lungs – though if it hadn’t, the force with which her back hit the door would.

He didn’t plan on any of it when he followed her upstairs. He planned to be the gentleman, to see what the morning brought. The trouble was that knowing she was interested killed the last of his ability to fight temptation.

“I know you said tomorrow but I’m free now?”

His lips parted so briefly from hers that she could still feel the movement of them as he spoke. Speaking was probably unnecessary anyway – the kiss was a conversation in itself. The tips of her ears were now so warm she was sure they must be glowing.

“Kind of short notice, but I’m not busy.”

His mouth was upon hers again even before the last syllable died. Blindly he groped for the door handle. Reese was leaning too heavily against the wood, so when Justin opened it they almost stumbled over; the alcohol they’d consumed over the evening didn’t help. They remained locked together regardless.

“Wait, wrong room,” she muttered.

Halting the kiss to briefly look up, Justin saw that they’d stepped into the guest room he no longer intended she used. Releasing her momentarily he took her hand and led her out, flicking off the lights as they went. The master was directly opposite so it was the work of moments to rush in, kick the door closed and gather her back into his clutches.  Over-eagerness set them both into a clumsy fumble with each other’s shirts, as if they could somehow get them over their heads without breaking the clinch (not physically possible, try though they might). It was a while since she’d had sex and longer for him. When you coupled that with how long they’d been apart it was not a recipe for finesse or taking your time.

While Justin attacked her neck and collarbone, warm hands sliding over her bare back, Reese was trying to get his sweatpants off. They were tied too snugly and wouldn’t give enough to slip over his hips. Her fingers pulled and tugged at the drawstring, her frown growing fiercer as she failed to loosen it.

“Jesus Christ, where the hell did you learn to tie knots?”

Ceasing his attentions he took the string and made his own attempt. A full twenty seconds went by before he realised they had a problem. “Shit, I can’t get this either.”

Their eyes met and in tandem they broke out laughing. This didn’t help Justin as he tried to work – it made his arms shake. Mild intoxication and tiredness hampered his dexterity. Reese was no use. When she wasn’t distracting him with glimpses of her now naked body she was too busy clutching her sides to offer assistance.

“This is sooooo sexy.”

“Shut up and help!” He protested through guffaws. The absurdity wasn’t lost on him either but she wasn’t exactly being useful.

“I don’t think those are coming off. Maybe we should just call it a night.”

“Hell fuckin’ no.” Justin gave her an arched eyebrow and a comic glare.

“I’m not kidding; I really don’t think you’re getting that knot undone.”

“I’m not kidding either – even if it takes scissors.” Besides the way they were sabotaging his game, they were digging in.

“Oh, wait…”

Reese dived into the bathroom and rooted through the drawers. Sure enough they yielded a pair of nail scissors. It would be cumbersome but doable. Moving back into the bedroom (making sure to close the door behind her, otherwise it would bug her), she pushed Justin’s hands aside and got to work. She had to saw at the string with the scissors, but with perseverance they would go through. He said nothing but stared at her bare body.

“Enjoying the view?”

Ignoring her sarcasm he gave a shrug. “I really am.”

“You’re a bad man.”

“God, finally!” He exclaimed as Reese succeeded and yanked the sweatpants down with a flourish. Red creases marked his stomach where they’d been pulled too tight.

She was still giggling manically as she embraced him and planted a kiss in the middle of his chest. Her ribs still shook and he could feel the movement of her face as she smiled against his skin. Hugging her back, Justin brushed his lips to her temple and kicked the pants aside.

“Real smooth,” she said. “Way to remind me what I’ve been missing.”

“Shut up, peanut.”

Backing Reese up towards the bed, Justin tried to take some measure of charge again. He wanted the mood in a more serious spot, not for their moment of incompetence to derail things (you wouldn’t think they slept together for years, this was first time level inept). Despite his sleepiness every nerve ending clamoured. He’d waited far too long to get her back, even leaving it until morning was unacceptable. At least he managed to be a little more suave as he laid her on the mattress and settled himself next to her.

Even as she smirked, she ran a hand through his hair and shifted closer to him. You might think someone’s body would lose the familiarity in all those months apart, but every ridge and line was right where her fingers expected to find them.

“I did miss this though,” she said into his ear before letting her mouth drift to his cheek. “Even how ridiculous we are.”

“You have no idea…” Justin cupped Reese’s face in his hands and interrupted himself for another couple of kisses. “How much I missed you.”

The obvious quip would be that the attempt to break up her wedding was a big clue, but somehow this didn’t strike her as the time. Wisely she shelved that remark and chose to resume the kissing instead.

“Hello?”

Reese pulled her key out of the door and kicked off her shoes, waiting for a response. No reply came, so she assumed everyone was out.

Justin was setting down their bags and following suit. He was a long time visitor to the Bennington household and knew the rules as well as anybody. Elizabeth clipped him around the head enough times as a child for the message to sink in. Picking both pairs up, he put them on the rack before shrugging off his jacket and hanging it on a peg.

“What we get for springing ourselves on ‘em,” he said.

“Not a bad thing, you have a phone call to make remember.”

“True. Want me to take these upstairs?”

They were interrupted by pounding feet on the landing. At the top of the stairs appeared Clark, looking shocked to see them.

“Reese?”

“Hey kid,” she said with a smile.

“What are you doing here?”

“Surprise visit. So you gonna come give me a hug or what?”

“Oh, umm…”

Justin gave a knowing grin. The kid was far too flustered. “Sorry, did we disturb you?”

“Oh, umm, no…”

“Ohhhhh.” She was not slow on the uptake. “Busy, were you?”

Clark flushed, jogging down and flinging himself at his sister as if to prove her wrong. “Just surprised. Good to see you.”

She kissed his cheek, rubbing his back briefly in the hug before releasing him. “Yeah, yeah. Who’s the girl?”

Clark involuntarily gulped. If that hadn’t proved it, the girl did by appearing on the landing with a face redder than his. Descending the stairs, self-consciously pushing her hair behind her ear, she smiled tightly at Reese. The silent acknowledgement was the best hello she could manage. When her gaze hit Justin she blushed even more and avoided his eye. Sadistically he loved that – people’s reactions to him could be very entertaining. Fame had to have some perks.

“I’ll see you in school,” she said to Clark. “Umm…nice to meet you both.”

“Hold on…” Reese said. The girl froze. “Before you go I’d like to know who you are and why you were alone upstairs with my baby brother?”

Justin had to work to keep his face deadpan. It was tough to decide who was more embarrassed – her for the challenge or him for being referred to as the baby in front of his new girlfriend. Clark quickly hustled her out, whispering that she should ignore his sister. His next move was to turn and give her the filthiest look he could muster. A kinder person would have let her go quietly. Would have left it until next time when she wouldn’t take it so seriously – but then his family didn’t tend to be kind when they could be mocking each other instead.

“Clark, honey…” Folding her arms, she looked at him. “Hate to be ticking you off already when we barely said hello, but you know that’s not allowed.”

“And?” He tried defiance but the bravado was false.

“I might have to tell Mom about this. Rules are rules.”

Clark’s face paled. The rule was no dates in the house unsupervised, but so what? He was pretty sure all four of his elder siblings made a mockery of it in their day. “You wouldn’t.”

“I should,” she said with a concerned gaze. “I mean, you know how she’d feel. You let a guest wear shoes in the house.”

Justin’s hands made an involuntary clap, a snort escaping. Reese’s mouth curved into a wide grin and Clark knew he’d been had. First his shoulders sagged with the sheer relief. That didn’t last long before it made way for extreme annoyance. Stomping past, he jogged back upstairs.

“Hi to you too!” Justin yelled, struggling to get the words out through chuckles. Slinging his arm around Reese, he kissed her temple. “You’re evil, baby.”

“He’s getting off easy. If I actually told Mom his ass wouldn’t see daylight for a month.”

“Still evil.” He dropped his lips on hers before playfully smacking her denim clad backside. “You get the bags and I’ll get on the phone.”

She started to but then paused. “Oh, are we set with Trace?”

“For the hundredth time, yes. Relax, peanut, he’ll come through.”

“Really, you trust him after yesterday’s screw up?”

“I trust him to know what you’ll do to him if he fails.”

**

Bennington family car journeys were not, as a rule, quiet affairs. With five children clamouring for attention and picking on each other it got noisy. That made it strange when everyone was quiet, though they weren’t ill at ease. Tonight there was expectant tension in the air.

Reese and Justin supposedly made a spontaneous trip home. On any normal occasion everybody would accept that at face value. It would hardly be the first time. Neither had been back since the previous family disaster (which nobody talked about these days). John and Elizabeth had visited them in LA since, but this was their first trip back to Shelby as a couple. She hadn’t seen any of her brothers since she moved so a visit was overdue. The mere fact of being back didn’t raise suspicion.

It was the insistence that they wanted to take them out for ‘a nice dinner’ and everybody needed to dress up. That was unusual enough, but they’d been positively strange about the arrangements. Justin was driving his family to the restaurant. Reese similarly insisted with hers. Dean followed behind with Jenna and the kids - the only one missing was Oliver who was on deployment. Reese’s resolve meant that John was squeezed in the back with Elizabeth and Clark, since Sam and his long legs needed to ride shotgun. All this rather than reveal the location? Everybody had been staring doggedly at Reese for the entire journey. They knew something was brewing, but her face remained so impassive she might as well have been marble. 

Dean tried to bet Sam fifty dollars that the dinner was to announce an engagement. Sam declined on grounds that only an idiot would bet against it. It wasn’t until they pulled into the parking lot that he started to wonder if he should have taken the wager.

“Well this doesn’t look like a restaurant,” Clark said.

“Doesn’t, does it?” Reese said cheerfully. She opened the door and stepped out before anyone could question her.

Looking around, she saw that the Harless car was already parked up. They’d clearly got here on schedule. Trace’s parents’ car was there too, so the Ayalas were accounted for. Her face fell a little when the third car wasn’t there, but she supposed she couldn’t be surprised.

Doors were slamming all around, until everybody was out and clustered together in a group. Every face turned to look at her.

“So…” John stuck his hands in his pockets. “Something to tell us, sweetheart?”

Reese gave a dainty shrug of her shoulders. Folding her hands behind her back she twisted from side to side. “Just that I lied to you all. Sorry. Though I promise we are still feeding you after.”

“After what?”

She braced herself. “Our wedding.”

Time hung in stillness for a moment. Identically dumbfounded expressions marked the genetic trail across her father and brothers. Her mother’s hand had flown to her mouth.

“I’m glad you didn’t take that bet now,” Dean muttered in Sam’s ear.

The moment broke when Elizabeth ploughed forward to sweep her daughter into a hug and suddenly everyone was upon her. Exclamations filled the air. Jenna was so shocked she even forgot to reprimand her husband for the swear words in his (Will was at the age of repeating).

“When did this happen?” Sam asked.

“Few weeks ago,” Reese replied. “I’m so sorry for springing everything on you like this but the only way to keep everything quiet was to just not tell anybody. Not even you.”

Opting for such a simple celebration with the cloak and dagger routine had multiple reasons behind it. The first and foremost was to avoid paparazzi intrusion. There was a flip side – a bigger splash when the story did hit - but they wanted to skip the months of speculation about the big day. Next there was the eagerness to get on with it. All things considered the ceremony was late in coming; they should have been married some time ago but the break up put them behind schedule. Even after getting back together they needed time to reconstruct before rushing back into an engagement.

Reese also had a personal reason. She simply couldn’t stomach the idea of getting into another bridal gown. It was still too humiliating to remember the previous attempt down the aisle. She didn’t want any reminder of it today, her real wedding day. The mere thought of the ‘hope she makes it through the door this time’ jokes made her queasy. She preferred the idea of it just being her and Justin in their own damn clothes with family and a spot of dinner after. That felt a lot better.

The downside was that there was no chance of getting Ollie there. She’d sneakily called to let him know.

When the explanations stopped and the rest of the family scurried in, John was left outside with Reese to give them a minute or so to get in their seats. He eyed his daughter warily. After the trauma of the last occasion (which was embarrassing for everyone and very hard on his wife, who blamed herself for not seeing it coming) he was nervous. More than that, it was never what he’d imagined for his baby girl. He wasn’t generally an old-fashioned father but he and Liz often talked about getting to throw a fancy wedding for her. Even the previous attempt hadn’t altered that picture.

Still, there was something to be said for reality over dreams. Reese wasn’t in the fairytale gown this time – she was in a white strapless tea dress with black polka dots, the white her only concession to tradition. She looked less bridal but a heck of a lot happier. More than the organisational headache or neighbourhood gossip, what grieved him about the previous occasion was the photo album. The photos were paid for so the photographers delivered (though there were legal arguments once they turned up in the press). His daughter looked lifeless in them. John didn’t know how he failed to notice. If ever anyone doubted her decision, those photos ended the argument.

There was no hint of that now. She was smiling. She looked nervous yet bright. Instead of hesitating she’d already taken his arm. This was how brides were supposed to behave, even if not how they were supposed to dress. She didn’t even have a bouquet.

He was about to start moving when the sound of a car hitting the gravel gave him pause. They both turned to see the new arrival, and Reese’s face lit up. Out of the driver’s seat tumbled a harassed looking Nadine, clad in an electric blue dress that made her hair look even redder.

“Sorry, sorry, crisis at work! Am I late?” She asked.

“Right on time.” Reese released her dad’s arm to hug her best friend tightly. For a moment there she’d thought she wasn’t coming.

“So you’re really going to marry the asshole, huh?”

That was exactly why she’d thought she wasn’t coming. “Yep.”

“That’s fine, but I’ll need my own separate wing of his mansion when I visit.”

Reese laid a smacker of a kiss on her friend’s cheek, then having to wipe away the pink lipstick. “I’ll give you the furthest guest room, promise.”

“Okay, good luck… if you hear any muffled yelling ignore it, that’ll be me trying to contain my objection.” Nadine winked and raced inside the church.

“Always an interesting girl,” John said mildly before offering up his elbow once more. “You ready, sweetheart?”

“Let’s do it.”

**

“Well would you look at us,” Dean said lazily to his sister as they watched the other members of their party on the dance floor. “Who would’ve figured it’d be you and me as the respectable married ones?”

Reese gave a slow grin, slumping sideways closer to her brother. The music in the club was so loud it was hard to talk otherwise. Jenna was dancing with Sam and Trace, while Justin was at the bar getting more drinks.

“We were supposed to be the bad asses but I guess now we’re upstanding citizens. Lame.”

“Nobody ever saw us after a few rounds would call us that. Don’t worry Reesey, we’ll always be trouble.”

“I’d drink to that if my husband would get back here with my beverage.”

He tried not to roll his eyes too hard. She was abusing the word ‘husband’ that evening but then she was a freshly minted newlywed. He supposed he should let her off.

“You made a rookie error sending him, sweets.” Dean learned long ago not to. So many people stopped him for photos or autographs that you were lucky if he made it back before the ice cubes melted.

Originally they’d planned to go straight home after dinner and stay with her family (they wouldn’t be alone, but a hotel would have felt weird). This plan was demolished by their now unified family. Sam protested that they needed a proper celebration and nothing ‘so boringly God damn civilised.’ Then Lynn cooked up a plan to swap with the happy couple - she and Paul were now in the Bennington guest room, giving them the Harless place to themselves. Paul even promised to drop off their bags.

So one ceremony and a rowdy family dinner later, the Bennington children and their spouses were now partying it up at a Memphis club. Trace joined them, though the parents called it a night. Nadine also politely declined, claiming tiredness, but Reese suspected she’d had her fill of Justin’s company. That was okay. All credit to her, she’d behaved extremely well and even managed to say something vaguely congratulatory to him. She’d cared enough to button it for her big day and that was enough.

“It’s fine. I always get him back eventually.”

Dean snorted. “No kidding.”

“Shut up.” She elbowed him, knowing full well that was a shot at her previous dramas.

“Hey, at least it gives me a break from all that lovey dovey crap.”

“This is our wedding party and we’re paying for your drinks, so deal with it.”

Reese didn’t need his kiss on her hairline to know her brother was only teasing. She still flipped him a finger anyway.

The comment was justified but she was unapologetic. Most of the dinner was spent with Justin’s arm around her shoulders and her hand on his knee. At the club they were surgically attached. There were squeezes of waists and hands, plentiful kisses. It was all manner of nauseatingly cute stuff that would have had Oliver complaining as well as Dean. She didn’t care. They kept up the touchy feely newlywed stance throughout. As far as she was concerned, anybody who thought they were too cutesy could go jump. She’d earned this happiness.

The wonderful day felt like compensation for the previous trauma. Getting to this point was a struggle. Several hearts were broken in the process – hers, Justin’s, Drake’s – and there’d been a whole lot of soul searching and self-realisation to do. Getting back together was only part one. Breaking the habits that helped split them up was a whole other challenge. There were a few slip ups, and she’d had to learn not to hark back to their time apart when she was mad at him. The past took a while to leave in the past.

That wasn’t all of it. She’d also lost dear friends, not only Harmony but Drake too, and she’d had to mourn that. Out of the blue she received a long note from him (she suspected at Nadine’s prompting) which was both healing yet sad. It acknowledged that they weren’t the right fit and forgave her everything; even so it was clear the wound ran too deep to rebuild a friendship. That was understandable but painful nonetheless. Getting the career side of her life fixed was also full of setbacks, though she finally had a permanent job to start after their honeymoon. Life was emotionally tough going for a while there.

Today all that hardship felt over and done with. She’d had an amazing evening alongside the people she loved best, celebrating the best things in her life. She felt good.

“I’m going to go grab Jen, back in a sec.”

Her brother disappeared at the wrong time; not thirty seconds later Justin was back with a waiter in tow. Another round of drinks was set down on the table.

True to Dean’s prediction Justin was waylaid first by some old acquaintances and then by some fans who wanted pictures. He had no idea if any of them noticed his shiny new ring. If they did the story wouldn’t take long to hit.

Sliding into the booth, he waited for the server to depart before putting an arm around Reese and pulling her to him. She propped her legs over his lap and snuggled up. His spare hand fell to her knee.

“You alright there, wife?”

“Perfect.” She tipped her face up to brush his mouth with hers. “How’s my husband?”

White teeth flashed in a broad smile before he returned the smooch with one of his own. He was in a better mood than he could ever remember. Initially he’d been a little disappointed that she wanted to avoid the traditional wedding. As it turned out it didn’t matter. His day was spectacular enough purely because they’d finally sealed the deal. He was still keenly aware of how near he’d come to wrecking that for himself, so however it happened was fine by him. Small and intimate felt good (besides, he was sure he could talk her into a fancier celebration for all their other friends who were still in the dark). 

“Pretty damn pleased with myself. Couldn’t have picked a better first marriage. Oww!”

She’d pinched him, though the way her hand was now stroking his stomach told another story. “There’s still time for an annulment, you know.”

“Sorry, no can do.” He gave her a peck on the nose. “You’re stuck with me ‘til you die.”

“Oh that’s real romantic. Way to make it sound creepy.”

“Hey, never let it be said I’m not romantic. Do you see the champagne?”

“And only two glasses. Seems kind of mean,” she laughed.

“They’re busy anyways and I thought we deserved our own private toast,” he said, “for finally managing to get ourselves hitched.”

“Good call.”

Justin picked up one of the flutes and handed it to her before taking the other. “Though if I’d been smarter, this would’ve been the perfect moment to give you your ring too.”

She frowned. “Uhh, didn’t you already? Remember, during that whole secret wedding ceremony we masterminded? Minor thing we did today?”

Trace had managed to pick up and deliver said rings as instructed, and thus escaped any bodily harm.

“Your engagement ring, been waiting to give it to you. If not for the secret you would’ve got it after I proposed. Or re-proposed, I guess I should say.”

“Oh!” She hadn’t even thought about it. The fact that he did gave her yet another warm and fuzzy moment. It seemed a promising start that there were so many of those today. “Is it the same one?”

“Yep. I thought about a new one but…” He gave a shrug and then grinned at her. “Figured it was fine all along. Just needed a little clean up.”

Reese grinned back. “I see what you did there.”

Justin raised his glass. “To my beautiful wife and to us, finally married. I love you.”

A shiver ran right through her, to the very tips of her toes. When he said it like that the enormity struck home; it was hard to believe it possible. Everything had by all appearances been irretrievably wrecked and yet they weathered it. The thought was overwhelming.

 “I love you too. To the wait being over.”

Her glass found his with a light tinkling sound. Their eyes met as they took their first sips.

“Nice line, Mrs Timberlake,” Justin said, the arm around her shoulders squeezing. “I see what you did there.”

“Hey, you don’t have all the moves. I still got a couple.”

“Do you now?” A wicked gleam sparked behind his eyes. His features took on a roguish quality.

“One more reason you should be glad we didn’t do the big wedding.” Reese’s expression was equally devilish. Casually she sipped, dragging out her response. “Can’t wear some moves under a corset.”

There wasn’t much, only a tiny widening of his eyes. “Dangerous thing to say to me.”

“Don’t know what you mean,” she said, batting her lashes in faux innocence.

Justin shook his head before pushing his lips to hers again. This time the kiss was harder, longer. “Consider yourself lucky we’re not in private right now.”

Before Reese could come up with a suitably coy response, Trace was sliding in on her other side.

“Get a room.”

“Get lost.” Once again Reese’s actions gave the lie to her words. She’d pulled her legs down and twisted around so she no longer had her back to him. She hooked her hand around his bicep and was rubbing it affectionately.

“You’d wither and die without me.”

That was somewhat true, she thought. Previous experience proved she muddled along better with than without him. “You’re lucky I like you, Ayala. I was trying to have a moment here.”

“You say moment, I say gratuitous PDA. Po-tay-toe, po-tah-toe.”

Justin leaned down to Reese’s ear and whispered. “See why they don’t get the good booze?”

“What?” Trace asked as Reese’s face slid into another smirk.

“Nothin’, babe,” she said. “Hey, somebody grab my phone, group selfie is in order.”

“Really?” It was hard to judge which of the men looked less enthused.

“I haven’t had a good picture of the three of us for an age, shut up.”

Obediently Trace shifted in closer and Justin accepted the proffered phone. With the longest arms  it was always left to him. The first was a nice, normal one where they all sat together sensibly and smiled. The second saw Justin mugging at the camera while Trace smugly accepted the kiss being planted on his cheek by Reese.

“Satisfied?” Trace asked. “Because I ain’t doin’ that again.”

“Hey, consider yourself lucky. If my ring wasn’t visible I’d put them on Twitter.”

Flicking quickly through the resulting photos, she gave a self-satisfied nod. That was her husband and her best friend, right there. The three of them were still together. With the guys in their white shirts and black ties and her monochrome dress, they even looked synchronised - like they all fitted.

“Okay…” She picked up Justin’s glass and handed it back to him before giving Trace one of the beers that had just arrived. “I feel another toast coming on.”

“I thought the point of not doing the big wedding was I didn’t have to suffer through endless toasts and speeches and crap,” Trace said.

“Yeah, it was all about you.” Justin rolled his eyes.

“Shut up, the grown up is talking.” She ignored the disbelieving guffaws in order to take up her own flute and raise it to them. “To my boys, to us, still the TN trio - I love you both, dumb asses.”

Their glasses met in the middle.

“So long as we establish that you love me more.”

“Which is why she just took my name and legally tied herself to me.”

“She’s gotta get the cash, I understand.”

“Yep. Dumb asses,” she said as she sipped her champagne.