A violent gust of wind threatened to rip the door handle from his fingers.  Gripping tightly, JC pulled against the strength of mere air and yanked the door open. Stepping inside, he briefly brushed his feet across the strip of carpet that was already soaked with rain and scattered with bits of leaves.

Orlando was under torrential downpour. On top of the monsoon-like rain and winds, it was unseasonably cold. "This weather is ridiculous," he muttered to himself, shivering inside his jacket, swiping beads of water from his hair.

Inside the shop, it was warm and dry, the scent of brewing coffee luring him away from his momentary grumbling. Though it was just after Christmas, the festivity of the holiday season was still apparent. The windows were still smocked with cheer, garlands still hung from the edge of every surface and the music quietly seeping from the speakers above was a gentle Christmas instrumental. Guitar, if he was hearing correctly.

He stepped into the line, only about four people deep, listening to patrons rattle off their complicated orders. "Tall, skinny, soy hazelnut latte, no whip, no foam," chirped the woman in front of him. The clerk clearly understood whatever that meant, since she nodded, her fingers flying across the touch screen keyboard as she repeated the order back. Behind her, the order was repeated again, adding to the noise of grinding and foaming and banging, people whipping from one work station to another. Apparently coffee is a complicated thing.

"Hello sir. Would you like to try our new caramel flan latte?" The clerk glanced up at him and smiled, fingers poised over the keyboard.

"Uh...." He chuckled and consulted the menu board above. Not finding a description for whatever she just said, he returned his focus to her. "A what?"

"Caramel flan latte."

"Which is what?"

"Uhm. A latte that tastes like flan with caramel."

"So if I've never had flan before... you know what? I'll keep it simple today. Just give me a latte please."

"What size?"

"Oh, like a medium."

"So a grande?"

"Is that a medium?"

"Well, it's the middle size..."

"So if grande is a medium, then... wait, what's the biggest one?"

"Venti."

He rolled his eyes. "Whatever. Medium. Grande. Yeah."

Her fingers moved quickly as she repeated his order. "So that's a grande latte. Any whipped cream or flavor in that?"

"Uh... no. I don't think so."

"Great." She tapped a few keys. "That'll be $4.90."

JC slipped a hand into his pocket, where he was sure he'd stashed his wallet, but the pocket was empty. As was the front pocket of his jeans, his other failsafe spot. He felt his face grow hot with embarrassment as he realized he didn't have his wallet. Panicked, he glanced back through the window at his car parked in front of the entrance. Maybe he'd left it there?

Nope. It was in the jeans he wore yesterday. What a great time to remember.

"I guess I forgot my wallet. Dammit, sorry. I'll come back-"

"I've got it," called out a voice from the background. A woman seated in a booth grabbed her purse and hurried to the front of the shop. Tall and thin, wearing skinny dark rinse jeans and a fleece sweatshirt, her smile was wide as she approached.

"Oh, you don't have to do that. I'm okay, I'll just come back."

"It's no problem," she said with a smile. "I've done that before and it's really embarrassing. Someone helped me out. Just paying it forward." She handed her credit card to the clerk, who paused, one eyebrow cocked as if to make sure it was okay. The woman nodded and waved a hand as if to dismiss any further arguments.

"I really appreciate it," JC finally said, realizing she was not going to take no for an answer. "I can pay you back. I'll run and grab my wallet-"

"Oh, please. It's five dollars," she said, taking her card from the clerk and shuffling down the line to the counter where the finished drinks came out. She turned, a sneaky smile on her lips. "You don't happen to remember me, do you?"

The question was a surprise, since he almost never forgot a face. If he'd met someone, even in passing, he'd at least remember what they looked like. And he had a feeling that if he'd ever met her, he'd remember her face-a delicate oval shape, olive toned skin, thick, shiny hair that fell in waves just past her shoulders. Her cheeks were pink, as if she was warm; her eyes bright and dancing, searching his face for signs of recognition.

"Oh this is going to be awesome. You have no idea who I am."

JC wracked his brain from one end to the other. Granted, he'd met a lot of people in his life. This girl-his savior on a very small scale-didn't look familiar.

"Can I get a hint? A clue? A name? Something. Did we know each other?"

She chuckled and crossed her arms. "Yeah, we knew each other. Briefly, but we did."

He scraped the stubble on his chin with his palm, deep in thought. "Okay. How long ago?"

"Oh, a long time ago. Like, late 90's."

JC laughed. "Oh, man. I probably don't remember anything from those years. Do you know how long ago that was?"

"And yet I remember you."

"Well. Yeah... but-"

"Grande latte!" A cup appeared at the counter in front of him, the clerk pushing it toward him. He picked it up and moved aside so the next person could pick up their drink. The woman gestured toward the booth where she'd been sitting.

"Join me," she said, leading him to her table and then sliding into one side. She'd been working, obvious by the stacks of official looking papers and mini laptop propped open. She closed the lid of the computer and piled the papers on top.

"Okay, so. Fill me in.  I apologize, but I can't remember where we met or how I know you."

"Really? I'm hurt," she said, pouting. Teasing, though-he could tell by the glint in her eye. "Christmas, 1997."

JC settled into the cloth seat of the booth, wrapped both hands around the warm paper cup, and let his mind travel backward, nearly twenty years in the past.

"Okay. We had been in Europe. We got to come home for Christmas. I remember it being really nice because no one knew who we were here. We could go to the mall or McDonald's or hang out wherever we wanted to. By that time in Europe it was crazy."

"You did, in fact, go to the mall a few days before Christmas. Fashion Square Mall.  To buy a book that your mom wanted."

JC sat straight up, almost knocking his cup over. "Chicken Soup for the Marketing Soul. My mom worked in advertising at the time. You-" He pointed. "You helped me find it."

She giggled, nodding, grinning wide. "Remember you looked for it in the recipe section, because you thought it was a cookbook?"

JC shrugged, his face turning pink. "Hey, I never... I never said I was a really smart person. And I was tired, and stuff..." He laughed, sipping his coffee, licking the sweet liquid from his lips. "I was so frustrated, and I was like, standing in the middle of the aisle-"

"And I came around the corner and you were talking to yourself."

"And you asked if you could help me. Like God sent me an angel. Again." He lifted his cup and took another sip. "So when you said, ‘oh that book is over in self help', I felt really stupid. I remember that. I also remember thinking that made sense because chicken soup is just chicken soup. There's no special soup for marketing professionals."

She laughed, a loud giggle bubbling from her. "So I walked you over, right to where the book was and you grabbed it and then kinda... just stood there."

"No, I said thanks, and asked your name. And it was...." He paused, furrowed his brow for a moment. "It was..."

"You want help remembering?"

"No, no.  It's on the tip of my tongue.  I remember it was a cool name. It was..." JC stared at the surface of the table for a long moment, and then his head popped up. "Lizzy?"

"Liz," she answered with a smile. "Though, Elizabeth, these days."

"Taylor!" He shouted. "Your name was Liz Taylor. I remember laughing at that."

She nodded. It was her turn to blush. "Yup. You asked if I was THE Liz Taylor."

"I was being funny, obviously."

"Obviously."

"You look different. Way different."

"You think so? I just look older, I think."

"Well, so do I but I look the same. You look really different."

"I got a nose job about ten years ago. And my hair is longer. Darker. Other than that I look the same."

"Still a pretty girl," he said. Then lowered his head and sipped on his coffee. Maybe he shouldn't have said that.

"Still a handsome guy," she said, without hesitation. "Do you remember us flirting with each other?"

"Like crazy. I think I hadn't seen a girl in months." Her face fell; her lips formed a frown. "I mean--- I don't mean it like that. Shit. Sorry. I meant... you... you were nice to look at. A sight for sore eyes, they say."

She nodded. A moment later, the frown disappeared. "You asked me what time I got off that night."

"I showed back up right before the mall closed. We hung out in the food court and watched the cleaning crew until the security guard kicked us out."

"And we ended up in your car..."

"I remember now."  

Like it was yesterday, he remembered the cute girl he'd met at the bookstore at the mall.

‘So you guys have to work every day when you're over there? No days off or anything? No wonder you're happy to be back in this shithole.'

JC chuckled, his head leaning against the headrest. ‘We get Sundays off. But one day off out of six isn't much time. And it is nice to be back with my family.'

‘You have a girlfriend over there?'

‘Nah,' he answered. ‘Not really any time. We're not in one place for that long and the girls over there...' He glanced over at her. ‘They've got nothin' on the girls here.'

‘Really?' She smiled and shifted, leaning toward him. ‘How so?'

‘Well,' he said, shifting toward her. ‘They're not as pretty.'

‘Oh?'

"Yeah. And you have way better teeth.'

She giggled. ‘Is that all?'

‘Well, lemme check one thing.' He leaned forward and brushed his lips across hers once. And then again. And a third time, but this time she opened her mouth. A deep groan rose from the pit of his stomach as the kiss deepened, tongues swirling around each other, hands madly gripping and stroking one another until one of them had to come up for air. And then it would start all over again.

The windows fogged and the air inside the car was wet and heavy with the scent of two bodies in heat, trying hard to resist what they obviously wanted.

‘Liz,' JC panted, taking a break from nibbling on her ear. ‘I really...'

‘You really...what?'

‘Like you,' he finished. ‘Really like you. But I have to go. My mom's probably throwing a shit fit. Which she can do ‘cause she works for a fertilizer company.'

‘Yeah, I gotta go too. My mom doesn't care where I am, but I have to open the store in the morning.'

‘Well...Can I see you again? Like, at some place more comfortable?'

She giggled. ‘Like where?'

‘Don't worry about where. I'll take care of it.'

‘Okay. When? Tomorrow is Christmas Eve. I'm working until close.'

‘I don't know. I don't have a lot of time. We're leaving a couple of days after Christmas. I'll work it out, though, and I'll call you.'

Her shoulders sagged. ‘Guys never call when they say they will.'

‘I will call. I promise.'

He'd gotten home that night, wrapped up the book for his mom and put it under the tree. The next night Joey had come by; he and some friends were going out and coerced JC into going.  The rush of the holidays, mixed with time constraint swept him up like the tide and by the time JC remembered the cute girl at the bookstore in the mall, he was on his way back to Europe.

"I waited for you. For days and days."

"Yeah, I-"

"I stayed at the bookstore after hours, thinking you'd drop by." She shook her head. "You didn't. I never saw you again, at least in person, until five minutes ago in that line."

"Liz-"

"Elizabeth."

"Elizabeth, I am so sorry. I didn't do that on purpose at all. I got caught up and-"

"With some other girls? Some groupies?"

JC chuckled. "We didn't have groupies here. I just... things got crazy busy and we left again right after Christmas. We had a show New Year's Day in Germany."

Elizabeth was quiet, studying the faux wood grain of the table. Then she flicked her eyes upward to JC's face and smiled. "It was a long time ago, anyway. I guess I shouldn't still be hanging on to stupid feelings."

He sipped his coffee, feeling awkward. What started as a brief stop into Starbucks for something to warm him up had turned into a confrontation that made him feel guilty for something that happened so long ago he barely remembered it.

"I guess belated congratulations are in order," she said. "About a year later, I was watching the Disney channel with my niece and there you and the other guys were. I told everybody I almost went out with you."

He laughed, and thankfully she laughed with him. "Things got a little weird. And stayed that way for a long time."

"Was it fun though?" She asked. "Everything you dreamt it would be?"

"More," he answered. "It's everything you think it'll be and much more. Good and bad."  She nodded once, then fell silent, like she'd run out of things to say or tease him about. "So, you still live here?"

"Not still, but I do live here. I left for college, stayed gone for awhile. Came back a few years ago."

"Yeah my brother just moved back here a few years ago. Got married last year."

"I heard."

He nodded. Of course everyone was an expert on not only his life but the people in it. Comes with the territory. "So, are you still Elizabeth Taylor?"

She laughed. "And people still find that funny."

"I knew a guy named Michael Jordan. Poor kid. Scrawny white dude. No jump at all."

The sound of her laughing was music to his ears. She had a pretty smile and an infectious chuckle. He liked hearing it.

"That seems worse than Liz Taylor."

"He really had a hard time with it. I guess he's used to introducing himself as Not THE Michael Jordan."

"I should try that! Hi, I'm Not THE Elizabeth Taylor."

"A little long for business cards."

She shrugged. "I guess I'm stuck. So you're in town for the holidays?"

JC bobbed his head in agreement. "My usual trip. Gotta see the family. Mom gets an attitude if I don't make it."

"Understandable."

"Yeah. So..." JC squirmed in his seat, unsure if the next thing he was about to say should be said, but knowing he was going to say it anyway. "I really feel badly about leaving you hanging like that. I guess I never realized..." He paused again, and then pushed himself forward. "I uhm... I could make it up to you."

"How would you do that?"

"I'd like to take you out. Like I wanted to that night."

"If I remember right, you weren't talking about taking me out."

He blushed. True, he'd wanted to get her alone so they could have sex. "Touche'. Okay, I'd like to take you out like I should have wanted to that night, but my hormones couldn't plan that far ahead."

She didn't answer. Not at first. As if she was waiting for him to say he was joking, or for a camera crew to pop out of nowhere, she waited. And waited.

JC grew impatient and started to slide out of the booth. "Well, this was fun. Thanks for the coffee. Sorry about a long time ago. Have a nice life, Elizabeth."

"Wait, okay?" She held out her hand as if to halt him. He froze. "You couldn't wait a minute and let me think?"

"Sorry," he mumbled. "I thought you were trying to make me feel like an ass, and it worked. I was going let you gloat. You got me back."

"I didn't... I wasn't trying to get you back or make you feel like an ass. I..."

"You don't want to go out? That's okay. We don't have to. I was just offering."

"It's not that...it's..." She shook her head a few times, quickly, and then heaved a sigh. "Nothing. It's nothing. You really want to take me out?"

"I really want to take you out," he said, his tone softening. He tipped his still full but now cold cup of coffee toward her. "If not for leaving you hanging way back then, then to repay you for saving my ass today." 

They'd decided to go out the next evening. JC was nervous, determined to correct the mistake he'd made so many years ago. At the least, he could look at a new face and have some fun. But In some way, he hoped, righting this wrong might straighten out his love life, as if blowing her off had set him on a certain path and maybe if he'd remembered her, his life would be different.

JC pulled into the driveway of her beachfront condo and, right on time, rang the doorbell. She opened the door dressed in skintight jeans, bare feet and a loose, low cut blouse.

"You made it!"

"See, I was wearing something like that before. I'm glad I changed."

Elizabeth laughed and stepped aside to let him in. "I'm almost ready, give me one second. Just need to put my shoes on."

"No problem. Take your time." He wandered down the hallway until he found the living room and stood there for a second, waiting. Outside, he heard the hypnotic murmur of the ocean. He poked a finger through the slats of the blinds and watched the tide roll in and back out.

"Nice view, huh?"

He whipped around to find her standing behind him, wearing a black leather jacket and high heeled boots. A matching black leather bag was slung over her arm. "That's why I put my office right here," she said, gesturing toward the L shaped desk and executive chair in a space that would normally hold a dinner table and chairs. "This way I can work and watch the water."

"That's pretty cool. Yeah, that is a nice view."

"You live on a lake though, right?"

"Out here, yeah. Not in LA. I have... well I have the pool."

She shook her head and clicked her tongue. "Not nearly the same. Are you ready? It'll take us a good hour to get to Cocoa Beach from here."

The sushi was his idea, a nice spot outside the city with great ambiance and good food, where he wouldn't be followed or bothered or photographed. The Samba, however was her idea. She'd just happened to visit a club a few months ago and was dying to go again. Reluctantly he agreed to go-because she begged and because he owed her.

Over endless plates of fresh seafood wrapped in rice and seaweed, they caught up. Sort of. You can't really catch up with a person you never really knew, but they gave it a good effort. He learned that she was Creative Director for an Internet Marking group. She learned that he was honing a group of girls (a large group of girls) to be the first US Super Group.

"See, in a lot of ways, we're the same," JC was saying, dipping something called a Conch Roll in sauce. "We creative types, I mean. We're stimulated by different things than normal people."

"You're saying we're not normal?" She paused before popping a crispy tuna roll into her mouth.

"Well," he started, but decided to chew more before he continued. He swallowed and then said, "I'm not normal. I know that. I mean, I'm not a serial killer or anything-"

"Thank God."

"But I knew a long time ago that my mind works differently than, say, the guy that sells things all day. Or the guy that picks up my garbage. You know what I mean?"

She nodded. "I do. And it's something I've had to learn to embrace and not try to change about myself."

"Do you get people telling you that you have to change that?"

"Oh, all the time. ‘You've gotta start thinking more inside the box, Elizabeth. These far-fetched ideas of yours'... and then they laugh and walk off like they said something brilliant and mind bending when all they did was tell me to conform."

"Well, don't. The world has enough conformists and if it wasn't for people who think outside the box, we'd never have some of the world's greatest art, for example."

She smiled, waving her chopsticks around the massive plate of sushi they were sharing. "What should I try next?"

"Try that," he said, pointing to a neatly packed roll topped with seaweed salad and sesame vinaigrette. "It's good, a little spicy, but not too much and the salad on top is a nice palate cleanser." He watched as she picked two rolls and set them on her plate. "So what brought you back to Orlando?"

"My mom."

"Sick?" He asked, pausing out of respect before stuffing his mouth with fish.

"Broke. Crazy. Literally, crazy. She's in a home now."

"Oh. I'm sorry about that."

"Don't be. It's the best place for her and she's getting great care. I'm here to give my brothers a break. They've been dealing with her for a long time."

"And how much older are they?"

"Younger," she answered, her mouth full of spicy sashimi. "I'm the oldest."

"Me too. Well, you know that." He shrugged, mentally kicking himself. He knew what she knew, but he didn't have to keep reminding her that she knew things. "Anyway she's got to be a lot to deal with."

"Easier now," said Elizabeth. "I channel all my angst into my job." She chewed and smiled. "So now it's my turn to make you uncomfortable."

"Oh, here we go."

"So are you dating out there?"

"No," he said, plainly, shaking his head.

"Just no? Not kind of, not sort of, not I have this girl I've known forever and we sometimes have sex..."

"Nope."

She gave him a bewildered stare. "I don't believe that, JC."

"Really. Nothing right now. I mean..." He sighed, set down his chopsticks and leaned an elbow on the table. "I uh... I had a girl. And she was great. And she... I should be engaged by now but I uh..."

"Don't tell me you told her you were going to call her and left her hanging for like 20 years."

He laughed, sensing the mood lighten. "No. I didn't do that. But I did fuck around on her."

"Why? Do you know why?"

"Now you sound like my therapist." He picked up one stick and poked at a grain of rice with it. "I don't know. I hate that answer. So did Kath. But I don't know. I guess..."

"She was really serious about you and that freaked you the fuck out?"

He nodded. Reluctantly.

"And then you start talking yourself out of something really good, telling yourself you don't deserve that or don't want that, or it's not for you. And then you do shit to make her walk away so you don't have to."

He cleared his throat, obviously uncomfortable. "You sound like you've been through it."

She let out a haughty chuckle. "Hell. I am you with boobs."

He flicked his eyes up, to hers, looking right into them, searching for truth in her words. She gazed at him, her lips a grim, tight line.

"I don't know what it is. Maybe I haven't found the right guy or something. I just... I get into something really good and it's... it's not perfect but it's so great and so what I need. And then he's in love and he's planning our future and I..."

She shook her head. "I want to see myself there with him. But I don't. And that kills me because I don't want to hurt this guy."

"But you end up hurting him anyway. Because you know the truth now. You can't pretend, now. You have to be you and being you means you can't fake the funk. So you start to pull away and become kind of... annoyed by this person that loves you to death."

She was nodding, smiling, almost laughing with recognition. "Man, this is better than therapy. My emotional doppelganger telling me about myself."

"You know, I... I kind of thought earlier that I should do this tonight-you know, make it up to you, because maybe that was the point in my life where it all went to shit. Maybe if I correct something from my past, I can heal from it. Or at least I'll feel better."

"That's a crock of shit," she responded, which made him laugh. "An interesting thought and a nice gesture, but also a total load."

He'd laughed so hard he was choking, so he grabbed the neck of an open bottle of beer and chugged down a mouthful. When he'd recovered, he was still smiling. "I did really think that though."

"That's because you're sweet. I can't believe you even wanted to make it up to me. I thought you'd think I was crazy for even remembering."

"I don't think you're crazy for remembering. I feel bad that I forgot."

"I don't hold it against you. Your life completely blew up after that."

"I feel a little better about it. You?"

She nodded. "I'm having a great time."

 

After dinner, they left the car parked at the sushi and Thai restaurant and wandered a few streets away to the sounds of Latin flavor wafting through the air. Ritmo was a new dance club that had opened in the last year to rave reviews and huge fanfare. Elizabeth had done part of the web marketing for the grand opening.

It was impossible not to tap his toes or bump his shoulders to the heavy mixture of hip hop and salsa booming from the speakers. The line around the bar was three people deep. The dance floor was full of bodies rhythmically gyrating against one another.

Despite his arguments, JC found himself in the thick of things, his hands resting lightly on Elizabeth's waist as her hips moved from side to side to the latest Sean Paul hit. He laughed, he danced, he dipped her and twirled her and even moved his hips a little.

Snippets of their dinner conversation popped up in his mind. He found her interesting. Intriguing even. As beautiful as she was back when he first met her. And ten times sexier.

Her hands were everywhere, smoothing across his shoulders, down his chest, back up his arms before looping around his neck. She laughed as they were jostled into each other by all of the bodies on the dance floor. Her smile faltered for a few seconds when he pulled her tightly up against him to get her out of the way of some rowdy dancers. There was no way she didn't feel that hard lump against her thigh.

She moved closer, wrapped her arms around his neck, stood on her tip toes and pressed her lips against his. JC responded immediately, moving a hand to the back of her head and attacking her with all of the passion he could muster up. He felt her moans and squeals even if he couldn't hear them. He felt her shudder when he touched her and sigh when he kissed her.

She pulled back after a few breathless minutes.

"You want to get out of here?" They both asked. And then laughed.  "Great minds," he said, then grabbed a hand and began to lead the way off of the packed dance floor.

They walked back to the car hand in hand. Once inside and safely buckled, the heat blowing gently through the vents, JC backed out of the parking space and pointed the car toward the highway.

"I really appreciate our conversation in the restaurant. I hope you weren't just saying things to make me feel better."

Elizabeth reached across the console with her hand upturned. He closed his hand around hers and brought the jumble to his lap. "I was saying things to make me feel better. Do you really have a therapist?"

"No." He chuckled. "I have well meaning friends, who think I'm a total freak and I'm broken and I need to figure out what's wrong."

"Are you?"

"A freak? Maybe. Broken?"He sighed glancing over at her. "I don't know. Am I?"

"I say no. If you're broken, I'm broken. I'm your emotional doppelganger, remember?"

He chuckled. "Yeah. So how long ago did you and the guy split up?"

She didn't answer for a few moments. "A year ago," she finally said, gazing out of the window at the darkened scenery between cocoa beach and Orlando slipped by.

"I don't mean to pry. I'm sorry."

"It's okay. Technically you're my oldest friend."

"Well in that case..."

"But I don't really want to talk about him."

"Okay."

They rode in silence, with no sounds but the road beneath the tires and the light music coming from the speakers.

"Is this your girl group?" She asked.

"Yup. Gotta hear new music in the car. More people bump tunes in the car than anywhere else."

"Turn it up," she said, nodding toward the series of knobs on the console. With his thumb, he pressed a button on the steering wheel and the interior was full of the sound of upbeat pop music. In spite of herself, her mood began to lift.  "I like them. They sound fun."

"They are. Each one an individual. Hard workers though. They really want to make it. And I really want to get them there."

"Really? Knowing what you know about the business? And the life that comes with it?"

"Yeah. I mean, you take the good with the bad, right? And I'm still alive and around so it wasn't that bad. I do whatever the hell I want to do, all day every day. I don't ever have to worry about money or anything. That's a good life, right there."

"But then there's the bad..."

"Yeah. And you can get wrapped up in that if you aim for fame and not success. Success is something you have to define for yourself. In my eyes, I'm successful. In your eyes, maybe not, because I'm not as famous as I could be."

"I think if you're happy and you like where you are, you call that a success and ride that puppy as long as possible."

"We agree on that."

"Of course we do," she said, leaning back and resting her head against the headrest. "We creative types do things our own way. In our own time. And we don't conform."

"Nope. We don't."

JC pulled into the same driveway he'd pulled into hours before and cut the engine. The night was murky, leaving the moon as the only light available to guide them to the front door.

"Sorry," she said, slowly picking her way along the sidewalk. "I forgot to turn on the lights outside." 

"That's what iPhones are for," he said, pulling up the flashlight app. Suddenly the walkway was bright and luminous and they easily made their way to the front door, where she also found her key and slid it into the lock.

"Handy," she commented, as he turned off the flashlight and stepped into the condo.

"I have a million more apps that do nothing but stupid shit."

She led him inside and down the hall to the living room. "Can I get you a beer or some wine or a Pepsi...I could mix you a drink, if you want something stronger."

"What, you got like a full bar in here or something?"

"Something. Come on."  He followed her to the kitchen and stood back when she opened the right side of the enormous stainless steel refrigerator. Two brands of beer, what looked like a case of Pepsi and a few gallons of different flavors of juice filled most of the interior. On the bottom shelf and in the drawers were a few food items, as if they were an afterthought.

"Your fridge looks like you live in LA. Girls don't eat out there."

"Help yourself to whatever you like," she said, opening the freezer. It was packed full of frozen dinners and frosty packages of meat. "I just don't keep much in the fridge. I buy fresh fruit and veggies every morning at the farmer's market. I eat what I cook and toss the rest. I don't like the idea of food slowly rotting in my fridge."

He grabbed a bottle of beer and twisted the cap off, offered it to her and then grabbed another when she took it.  

They settled into the deep, soft cushion of the overstuffed couch, covered in a microfiber in a stylish slate grey and drank the first few sips of their beers in silence.

"So.." JC started, mindlessly wiping the lip of his bottle. "When I asked you out yesterday, you were a bit hesitant. Any reason for that?"

She smiled. "Not used to hearing no, are you?"

He laughed, long and loud. "I'm actually plenty used to that. I hear no all the time. I wonder now if it had something to do with the guy you don't want to talk about."

"A little," she admitted. Sheepishly, she bowed her head and ran her fingers through her hair, pulling it forward to hide her face. "I haven't been with anyone since him. I hadn't had an interest in dating, not even for a casual night out, in a long time. It scared me a little that I was ready to jump when you said you wanted to take me out."

"How come?"

"Because I do have a therapist. And she tells me that I'm not interested in the easy guy. The guy that's willing to lay everything down for me, right here and right now. I want the guy I can't have. I want the one that would willingly walk away from me." She lifted her head and finished softly. "I want the one that forgot about me."

"Maybe..." He sucked in a breath. "Maybe you want to conquer that experience. Maybe you want to conquer him?"

"Maybe." She sighed. "At any rate, it's not exactly healthy."

"Maybe not. Or maybe that's a conformist way to look at it. Maybe there's nothing wrong with having to work for something. Worth going after what you want, knowing you might not get it, but really relishing the fight for it."

Elizabeth grinned, chuckling. "You like that theory because it ends up in me jumping you."

JC laughed along. "I like any theory that ends up in someone jumping me. But that's been my whole life. Reaching for things I don't think I can get. Some things I got. Some things I didn't. I liked the fight."

"So you're saying..." She paused, a mischievous grin on her lips as she slid closer to him on the couch. "You're saying that you think it's a good idea for me to do this?"

He was ready for her as she tipped her head toward him, mouth slightly open, breathing at a standstill. They collided in a rush of deeply inhaled breaths and guttural, sensuous moans. He crawled her body with his hands, moving slowly upward until they were buried in her hair. They kissed, breathlessly, endlessly, like they'd been waiting fifteen years to do it.

When they came up for air, JC tipped his head to one side and nuzzled her just below her earlobe. Elizabeth gave low, sultry chuckle. "You don't remember that that tickles."

"Yes I do," he murmured, nipping lightly at the fragrant skin of her neck. He toyed with the thin strap of her bra before moving down into the deep ‘V' of her blouse and slipping his hand inside the shirt, and then the cup of her tiny lace bra. Her nipple stood at attention, taut and red. She shuddered when he fondled and flicked it, then nibbled her earlobe a little more.

"Uh... so I think I'll take you up on that offer to get a little more comfortable."

"What offer?"

"The one you made the last time I saw you." She sat up, then stood and grabbed both bottles of beer. "Come on," she chirped, leading him down a hall and around a bend to the corner bedroom.

Spacious wasn't the word for this room. It was more like two rooms combined into one, a bedroom and a sitting room, complete with fireplace and window seat, giving a cozy perch from which to watch the ocean just feet away. A set of sliding glass doors covered by sheer drapes led to the wrap around patio, just wide enough for a bistro table and an oversized umbrella.

The waves were louder in this room. It was soothing, relaxing as they climbed up onto the four-poster bed with the intricately carved headboard and lay next to each other. Listening. Waiting.

"I suppose you do this a lot, huh"

He rolled his head in her direction. "This?"

"Don't pretend like you don't know what I'm talking about. I'm a big girl. I know average men who do one night stands. Don't pretend your famous, celebrity ass doesn't do it too."

"Yeah, my famous celebrity ass does them. That's how I lost my girlfriend."

"Oh. Forgot about that."

"You never had a one night stand?"

"A couple," she answered, shrugging a shoulder. "Meant nothing."

"They're not supposed to mean anything, silly. That's why they're one night stands."

She smiled, though it was thin and weak.

"Are you worried about how you'll feel afterward? Even though, if we'd have had sex way back then, it still would have been a one night stand?"

"Even if we'd have had sex way back then, I already liked you too much for it to not mean anything. And this... tonight... will mean something to me."

JC was quiet for a few seconds. Then he asked, "Are you trying to fight for something, here? Trying to conquer me?"

She giggled once. Then again. "Oh my God. Probably. That's why I'm so turned on right now."

"Are you really?"

"Yeah. Really."

"Tell me."

"I'm really turned on right now."

He laughed. "Okay, smartass."

"What do you want me to say?"

He rolled to his side and reached for her, slid her across the bed until she was right up against him. "Tell me what you're feeling. How you know you want me."

"I didn't know I wanted you until I heard your voice yesterday. I knew it was you. I couldn't even see you, and I knew it was you. My body knew. I've been on high alert since yesterday. My... my heart beats out of control and I can't breathe when you look at me. When you touch me, all sorts of things happen to me, like volts of electricity shoot through me-"

"Like that?" He asked, brushing his fingertips down her arm.

"Fuck," she responded, closing her eyes, doing her best to hold back a shudder but losing the fight.  

"Did you just come?"

"No." Her eyes opened and fixed on his. "I want to, though."

He bent over her and pressed his lips against hers, gently until she welcomed his tongue and he claimed her mouth with an impassioned moan. He rolled toward her, then settled in the space between her legs as her arms circled his neck.

"I want you," she whispered between frantic kisses. "I don't care if it's a bad idea or if it's a one night stand or if it's unhealthy. I've been waiting all this time for this moment. I want it."

"Me too," he whispered, shaking with desire. "I want it. I want you."

In a flurry, clothes were tossed in all directions-jeans and shirts and shoes, underwear and a bra until two warm naked bodies were rolling around on the bed together. Elizabeth sat up for a moment and rolled to the edge of the bed, reached for a drawer and plucked out two gold foil envelopes.

"I hope these fit," she said, tossing the condoms in his direction.

He snapped one up, ripped the package open, removed the disc and rolled the latex on himself, smoothing it down the shaft until he was covered. "Contrary to popular belief, I do not have a giant dick," he mused with a smile.

She glanced at him, tipping her head as if she was mentally measuring.  "It'll do."

"Gee, thanks."

"You're welcome. You'll find that we complement each other well."

He laughed. "Is that your way of saying you're tight?"

She smiled, that mischievous, devilish smile again. "Try it. Find out."

"I'll get to it," he said. "Eventually." A moment later his mouth was on one nipple, sucking and licking her into oblivion before moving on to the other, and then kissing his way south until he'd arrived at a light patch of soft hair. He let the patch guide him lower, further south until his mouth closed around her warm center, applying teasing flicks and light suction.

"Oh my--- Oh, fuck!" She grabbed him, grasping handfuls of hair, her hips bucking in rhythm with the movements of his tongue. For a few minutes, she said nothing, barely breathed while riding the wave from pleasure to intense pleasure to loud, shuddering, thundering explosion.

Before she could even recover, he was inside her, gently thrusting until he was buried to the hilt. He began a slow, sensuous grind. Her body responded in kind, rolling in symphony with his.

"See, you didn't think about the best benefit of waiting so long to do this."

Her grin was slow to spread across her face, giving her the appearance of drunkenness. "And what's that benefit?"

"I'm better at it now," he answered, then sped his movements, increasing the strength of his thrusts until they were rocking the headboard against the wall. Mumbles and sighs gave way to moans and cries until, together, they stiffened, gripping each other tightly, grunting barely decipherable phrases into the warm, muggy air.

"Jesus," JC said, heaving great gulps of air as he pulled out and rolled to the side.

"You can just call me Elizabeth. Or Liz," she added, chuckling. The grin on her face was worth a million words. She was satisfied.

"Smart ass," he panted, his gaze on the ceiling fan slowly turning. They said nothing to each other for a good, long while. Breathing slowed and sweat dried and the air hung heavy with, ‘what now' lingering between them.

Elizabeth rolled to her side, propping her head up on an elbow. "I was thinking about something you said earlier. About how you thought that making things right between us would be like a good omen for you, relationship wise."

"And then you said it was a crock of shit."

"Well, what if I was wrong about that? What if..."

He rolled to his side so he could see her, look her in the eye. "What if?"

"What if this wasn't a one night stand?"

JC eyed her, curious. "How could it not be? Besides doing this again tomorrow," he added with a wink.

"There's always that. It's just a weird thought I had."

"Expound on the weird thought."

She shrugged a shoulder, shyly reaching out to run her fingertips across his chest. "Me and you... we ended up being so much alike, you know? Like, what if... what if all the way back then, we were meant to be together but things got all screwed up? And you went your way and I went mine, but it never worked out with anyone else because that's not who we were meant to be with?"

"I'd say.... I'd say that's some pretty outside the box, thinking, Elizabeth."

She smiled. "But I shouldn't conform. Right?"

"Right. So what you're saying is that even though I live across the country, and I'm kind of a big deal as far as 90's pop music goes-" They both paused to laugh. "You think there's something here that we should pursue."

"You don't?"

"I'm asking you what you think."

"I think... for the first time, probably ever, I see a future with someone. I don't know if it's because you're practically unattainable or because I've wanted you since I was nineteen and everything finally came full circle, but... it's like we got a second chance, JC. You don't feel it? You don't see it?"

Her eyes widened, pleading with him. "Am I crazy?

JC didn't answer, not for a few beats. The clock on the bedside table quietly ticked away the seconds. The ocean waters rushed in, then back out. Elizabeth's eyes never wavered from his.

"You're not crazy," he mumbled.  "I don't think running into you was coincidence. Maybe you're like my Christmas Angel or something."

She laughed. "I am clearly your Ghost of Christmas Past. You know, from A Christmas Carol. Sent to help you right the wrongs of your past so that your present and future go the right way."

He laughed with her, then scooted closer, gathering her in his arms. She held him tight, her lips roaming his neck and shoulders. "Maybe you could be Christmas present. And Christmas future, too. What do you think?"

She tipped her head up and grinned. "I think I see that. Do you?"

"For the first time," he answered, with a smile and a happy, content sigh. "I think I do."