Justin Timberlake was staring at me from across the room. At first I was positive that I was imagining things since my mind had a tricky little talent of taking my heart's desires and bringing them to life, even if they didn't actually exist. My sister and I had been pressed up against the bar for a good portion of the night, far too intimidated to actually venture out into the crowd and mingle with people who were clearly far superior to us, monetarily anyway. Honestly, when Jessica called me on the phone earlier in the week and told me that she'd managed to scam tickets to Justin Timberlake's twenty-sixth birthday party at Pure Nightclub and that I was her date the first thing I did was go straight to the salon to wax my mustache, eyebrows and, um... a few other areas. I then proceeded to spend the next five days shopping for the perfect dress, which I never found, and ended up settling for a purple number from Forever 21. It was a cute and worked against my chocolate skin nicely, shorter than what I'd usually dare, but nothing worth catching the eye of Justin Timberlake from across a crowded room.

Getting into the club hadn't been a problem. Jessica was stunning and, just like in the movies, she flirted with one of the bouncers and we were swept past the velvet rope without even a whisper of a request for ID. I'd always looked and behaved older than my years, so no one gave me a second glance. Thank god for that, because I was very much seventeen years old and would have been thrown out on my ass the second anyone found out. I didn't even want to think about what my father would do to me. As far as he was concerned we were on an innocent "last week of summer vacation" trip to San Diego.

I shuddered to myself at the thought of being caught as I took a sip of my drink, a diet soda (Jess had slipped just a little alcohol in it), and shook my head, "No, no. No, this doesn't happen."

Jessica, my sister, shook her head along with me, "You're right, it doesn't happen, but it's happening."

I was a huge NSync fan, had been since middle school, and I followed Justin closely after he left the group and went solo. My interest in him wasn't as die hard as it was in my pre-teen days because, well, I kind of grew up, but I still wouldn't turn my nose up at the opportunity to meet him. Coming to this party was pretty much a dream come true. I talked about nailing Justin with my friends and we'd made elabroate plans for exactly what I would do if and when I had any contact with him, but none of that had been serious. Just a bunch of girls being stupid. "Why is he staring at me, dude?" I was honestly baffled.

Offensively enough, so was my sister, "I have no idea."

The first time I'd caught him looking was purely by accident. Jessica had been rambling on about something or another, as she often did, and I was half listening, as I often did, while scanning the crowd at the club. I wondered when Justin was going to make an appearance, if he was going to make an appearance, as I scanned all of the dancing heads. He was nowhere to be found. The disappointment must have been apparent in my eyes as I took a dainty sip of my drink because when I caught Justin's gaze, quite accidentally, from across the room, he'd looked mildly concerned. Concerned for my safety or my sanity, I wasn't sure. The first thing I noticed, besides the fact that he was Justin fucking Timberlake was the outfit he had on. It was jeans and a jacket, nothing extravagant, but it screamed money. Everything about him screamed money, in fact, and this was a quality that I wasn't used to in people that I was sharing a room-- hell, sharing air, with. It made me nervous, so I tore my brown eyes from his blue ones and looked at something, anything, else.

Of course, two seconds later, my eyes were right back where they'd started. His eyes were still on me, right on me, and I was truly shocked. It must have shown on my face because then he smiled. And that was it. That was the moment that I realized I must be going crazy. I even looked over my shoulder, searching for the blonde bimbo, or the celebrity it girl, or the drug dealer of the party or anyone that could make sense of why Justin was looking in my direction so intently. But there was no one behind me but the bartender. Then I looked to my right and saw Jessica. Of course! Jessica, my completely beautiful, completely flawless older sister. Of course he was looking at Jessica.

I sighed in defeat and nudged her, "Justin Timberlake is looking at you." I swallowed back that resentful 'of course'.

Jessica beamed, not nearly as surprised as she pretended to be. She was a goddess and she knew it, "Really?!" She reached up to fix her hair, "Where?! Where is he? That hot fuck!"

"Isn't he a little young for you, Jess?" Justin and my sister were the same age, but he was still much younger than the men she usually dated. The balance number on his ATM reciepts, however, was just right for Jess. The jealousy was nearly climbing off of my skin.

I looked back to Justin and was very close to pointing him out to her, but I had to stop myself. I'm sorry, maybe I am crazy but it really did seem like he was looking at me. There's a feeling one gets when there's a pair of eyes directly on them, an unmistakable feeling, and I had that feeling right at that moment.

Then he did it.

He looked over one shoulder, then the other, very dramatically, exaggerating every single movement. When he was done doing that, his eyes were riveted right back to mine. He was smiling, still, almost laughing, extremely amused. He was making fun of me.

"He's looking at you!" Jessica cried, realizing this at the same moment I was. She seemed just as shocked. Quickly, though, she regained her composure and lowered her voice to that conspiratorial tone she got when there was an interested man in her vicinity. "That's the look, too. God damn." Jessica whispered, taking a dainty sip of a daiquiri while paying way too much attention to the man I was fighting to ignore. The look Jessica was referring to was the eyes. His eyes. The come fuck me eyes that every sexual being on Earth had unconsciously mastered. I still couldn't believe that Justin was giving me the come fuck me eyes. Now I was seventeen years old, a senior in high school, but I was no virgin, hadn't been since I was fourteen. I was a sexual creature who was always safe and knew a come fuck me look when it was being directed at me. This was an absolute come fuck me look.

"Could you not stare at him?" I requested. She looked to me. "Thank you." I beamed, widening my gaze at her. To little or no surprise of mine, her eyes shot right back to him as she brought the drink to a lips. A tiny smile kissed the edge of the crystal, her green eyes shone.

"He's looking at you." She sang.

"Not interested."

"Oh, please, who the fuck do you think you're talking to? Don't forget that I grew up across the hall from you. Back when you couldn't even see the color of your walls past all of the NSync posters."

"Jess, I will kill you, I promise I will kill you dead if that sentence ever leaves your mouth, again." She had the kind of dirt on me that only a sister could have, and I hated her for it.

She rolled her eyes,"Just go fuck his brains out, will you? He's a fox and you're so obvious."

"I'm obvious?" I beamed. "You really have the balls to call me obvious when you're the one watching the poor man like a hawk from fifty feet away?"

"I think I do." She said, ever devoid of shame. She looked over, much more carefully now, then gasped out loud, "He's coming over."

When she said the words, I didn't look his way, but I could feel my heart skip. I'll be damned if he wasn't good looking. What I didn't understand was why I was so desperate to deny it.

Then I felt it. The panic. Was my hair okay? Was there anything in my teeth? Was my mascara running? Was it obvious that I was two seconds from toppling to the floor if I had to stand in these heels for another second?

"Hi." I said, pleasantly, yet breezily, when the man of the hour stopped up in front of Jessica and I. Every eye in the place was on him, some more carefully than others, but he seemed oblivious to it. He was balancing a scotch on the rocks in his left hand and I took an inventory of his ring finger. I knew about the engagement rumors just as well as the next person not living under a rock, so I had to take a quick peek.

Or maybe not so quick. I glanced up at him and was riveted at strength of his eyes staring back into mine. They had a sparkle to them, a gleam. When the corner of his lip twitched ever so slightly and he gradually ran his left ring finger around the edge of the glass I was annoyed. When I glared at him, his smile only brightened, his amusement more apparent than ever.

"I'm Justin." He said. For some reason I could hear him perfectly when he spoke, even though he wasn't screaming over the music like most people would. His eyes stayed on mine and I'll be damned if I wasn't a little dumbfounded by this. It wasn't everyday that a man paid me any attention when Jessica was mere inches away.

As if she were reading my thoughts, my lovely sister chimed in. "I'm Jessica!" She beamed, holding her hand out. Reluctantly, Justin took it, taking his eyes from me only for a second to shoot her a glance.

Here it comes, I thought. He'll realize that this supermodel has been standing next to us this entire time and wonder why he wasted even an iota of a second on the Plain Jane standing next to her. In fact, Plain Jane probably wasn't a sufficient enough cliche to describe how much Jessica's beauty eclipsed mine. If you dropped the Jane, therefore eliminating the charm of the rhyme, and just called me "plain" it would be much more fitting.

"And this deaf mute over here is my sister, Keelah. I call her KiKi. Every once in a while, she'll sputter out a syllable or two. Usually when she has to pee or doesn't know what's good at Starbucks."

As I watched my sister go on and on, I quietly wondered who people usually went to when they needed to hire a contract killer. I was fairly positive you couldn't find them in the phone book. Didn't know anyone who was crazy enough to give me any references. I did, however, know my sister and was convinced that if I looked hard enough I was bound to find some ex-boyfriend/best friend/neighbor that hated her enough to do it for a reasonable price.

Her boyfriend in the third grade, Tommy Gavin, would probably do it for free. Tommy really hated Jessica. To that very day. He did. I'd seen him in the supermarket two weeks ago and he asked me how the "nasty blonde bitch" was doing. I immediately knew who he was talking about. Not because she was the only black girl I knew with blonde hair, but because I knew very well my sister's ability to reap havoc on other people's lives. I suppose I had to thank her, though. If she was a jealous, bitter bitch she would have immediately told Justin that I was only seventeen year old who used to decorate her life with NSync memorabilia and he would be running for his life. It wouldn't matter to him that the legal age of consent in California was seventeen and even if it wasn't, I would be eighteen in a few short months. No, all he would look at me and see was a child. But my sister wasn't jealous, or bitter, and she never saw me as a child, so I knew her lips would be sealed. I loved her so much. What Justin didn't know wouldn't hurt him, right?

"She's the strong silent type." Justin said, snapping me out of my thoughts. I was so shocked at the fact that he'd actually stood up for me, that I barely heard Jessica scoff in the background.

"Is that what they're calling it?" She laughed.

I stared at her, unwilling or unable to think of anything to say to the Jezebel. Why I loved her with all of my heart was the Nancy Drew of mysteries to me at moments like those. Somehow, I managed to keep a smile on my face. I didn't know if it seemed genuine (it wasn't) and I didn't care.

It was just then, suddenly, standing there, I realized just how much more attractive this man was in person and wanted little more than to rip that incredibly expensive looking outfit right off of his body and do dirty, dirty things to him on top of the centerpiece in the middle of the room.

"I think I'll call her Kiki, as well." He said to Jessica, smiling. "It fits her."

"Don't." I spat. Quietly, I was kicking myself at the knowledge that a hastily squealed "don't!" was my first official word to this gorgeous man.

Way to make a first impression, huh?

"You can't make a second first impression, Kiki. Remember that." Jessica said, rolling her eyes before giving Justin one last smile and making her long awaited exit. Justin watched her go. I was so busy kicking myself that I barely realized he was looking back at me, when my eyes met his, I couldn't hold back a smile.

"She's right, you know." He said. "About the second first impression?... I can only hope the one I've left on you is as good as..."

Was he blushing? Nah. I hadn't made a boy blush since I accidently mistaken Mark Riley's family jewels for my hacky sack in the ninth grade.

"... as the one you've made on me."

Was he still talking? I raised my eyebrows, trying desperately to ignore and hide my growing arousal and make sense of the words he was speaking all at once. The image of him and I on the centerpiece didn't seem to be making it's exit from the whirlwind that was my mind so concentration was a distant memory as I imagined his touch.

I knew it was any man's touch that I was really craving and Justin was just the star of this show because he was the closest one around. As you can see, I'm a pro at denial.

He stood there before me, looking expectant, probably waiting for something, anything. Any kind of human response from this idiot girl standing in front of him.

I finished off the last of my drink, took notice of the new smile on his face and shook the bangs out of my eyes. Nervous habit. He continued to circle his bare ring finger around the edge of the glass he'd yet to take a sip from. He was so calm, patient. I wondered if he was like that in bed. It would be a huge plus in my book if he was. Sure, every once in a while, all a girl wanted was for a man to get on top of her and give it all he had, but that was just that-- every once in a while. I was seventeen years old so I knew a thing or two about sex with boys, and I mean just that--boys, who had absolutely no idea what they were doing. I was sick of it. I wanted a man. Justin's actions were very slow, steady... focused. Nothing wrong with that.

His expression grew ambivalent, I must have been catching him by surprise with my silence, "I saw you earlier. In the lobby."

Lobby? I struggled with all of my might to understand what he meant by lobby. Apparently, in my horny stupor, my usually extended vocabulary had failed me, as well. Then it hit me. The lobby! That's right, I'd been in the lobby earlier that day, waiting patiently for Jessica, who'd been searching the casino for a fifty dollar bill that she'd insisted on shoving in her bra. Because everyone knows Victoria's Secret is unrivaled when it comes to currency preservation.

Justin continued, clearly now struggling to hold on to any hope of conversation with me. "You were reading The Hunchback of Notre Dame. It's one of my favorite books. Or it was until Disney Studios came along, but that's true of any book..." He smiled.

He just made a joke, I told myself. I smiled, even though I hadn't even heard the whole thing. Something about Walt Disney? I said to myself.

"Honestly, I'm kind of hoping that you'll have to go to the bathroom or get a sudden craving for a Carmel Macchiato so you'll talk back to me." He whispered, taking a step closer to me. His smile grew as he leaned in and whispered in my ear, "So I can hear your voice."

Was I breathing?

"I'm sorry if I'm rambling." He said, standing straight. "It's just... you smell really nice. You're the only woman in this room who hasn't thrown herself on me in the last hour. Those are two qualities I find highly endearing. By the way, when I'm nervous, I tend to, uh... ramble and wont stop until someone stops me, so, I'm hoping that you'll say something soon and get me off the hook here."

I was making him nervous?!

"Huh." I said, out loud. I was sure that the look on my face, open mouthed and wide eyed, went with that idiotic "huh" like a warm day in Spring.

"Plus, you're a reader. The Hunchback... did I... did I mention--"

"Your favorite book." I said the words with astonishment, like a woman who'd had amnesia for ten years and had just realized the man talking to her was her eight year old son, now eighteen.

"Yes." He smiled. "You can speak. Who said Jessica was the end all, be all?"

"You're funny." I said, pointing at him.

"Thank you. I actually don't hear that often."

"Hm." He'd been cracking jokes since the moment I'd met him.

"You're a woman of very few words."

Only when I'm horny, I thought.

He blinked a few times, looked around, then back at me, smiling. "So--"

Enough of the small talk.

I spoke up. "Let's go have sex now."

Was he shocked? Yes, and rightly so. The sight of it on his formerly calm, cool and collected face, however, amused me.

It also made me feel extremely sexy. So much so that the need to stick a straw in him and swallow him all the way down was damn near eating me alive at that point.

I heard and saw him swallow, and was charmed when the rocks in his scotch glass began making music under his trembling fingers.

"Uhm... your place or mine?" He sputtered... his voice was suddenly reminiscent of Peter Brady at his worst.

"Wherever."

"Wherever's good." He said, quickly.

I grabbed his tie and pulled him towards the exit. Once we hit the door, I heard him whistle to the large man that had followed him in.

"James. The Venetian. As quickly as possible, please."

---

The limo ride was a short one, we hadn't even had time to kiss since, like the asshole I was, I'd spilled my red wine all over Justin's beige jacket the second after he'd poured me a glass. The entire ride was spent with me apologizing profusely, telling him that it would come out easily and with Justin laughing at me and telling me it was okay. He didn't even like the jacket that much, he only wore it because his mother gave it to him, he had ten more at home just like it. I didn't care. The fact that his jacket was the equivalent to a years worth rent for me made me extremely anxious. Even if he didn't care about the damn thing I was going to fix it, anyway, just because it was the principle.

The Venetian was a stunning hotel, but I'd barely noticed as I was too anxious to get to his room.

"Calm down." He was still laughing once we were in the elevator. When he pulled my hands away from where they'd been pressing hard onto either side of my head and pulled my body to his, I couldn't help a sigh as I felt instantly relaxed with his hands on me. The look in his eyes left no question to his plans for the evening and it sent my heart into overdrive. I was sure he'd kiss me, right then, in the elevator, and it would be my first official kiss with a celebrity, but instead, he leaned close to me, just that little bit closer than friends do, and whispered, "We're just going to take it all off, anyway." His eyes were very serious, then a smile slowly grew on his face, "Right?"

I couldn't help it, I smiled back, "Are you sure you don't have me confused with Jessica?"

His eyes searched mine, full of confusion. "Jessica?"

At first I was positive that he was making a joke, but the pure perplexity in his eyes solidified that in ten short minutes he'd managed to completely forget that my sister ever existed. "You're great." I beamed, before I could stop myself.

He laughed heartily just as the elevator dinged, and allowed me to pull him out by his tie. He followed me out, slowly, never taking his eyes off of me. I walked backward, lead only by his hands on my hips. He leaned down and brushed his nose against mine, "You're kind of great, too..."

"I'm not that great..." I waved a dismissive hand, "I'm the kind of girl--" My words were lost in the gasp that left my lips when my back slammed against the wall. Justin almost laughed, but was nice enough to bite it back. "I'm the kind of girl who walks into walls."

"To be fair," He said silkily, as he reached into his pocket, his body pressing against mine, pushing me harder against the door, "To be fair... you didn't walk into a wall, you walked into a door. A door that leads into a room... with a bed. So you're actually the kind of girl who's...." He swiped the card and I heard a beep next to me, "Who's kind of a genius." He pushed the door open and kept an arm around my waist, leading me in. I felt him, immediately, against the thigh of my Forever 21 dress, but I was too busy being momentarily entranced by the beautiful suite awaiting us and the view of the entire Las Vegas Strip that illuminated the room and made artificial light a non-essential.

I almost tripped, but regained my footing, thankful to have his arm around my waist, "You already know me too well."

"Not well enough." He shook his head and slammed the door, immediately ripping off his jacket. "Kiki I'm going to need you naked. Immediately."

I burst out laughing when he tore off his jacket dramatically and threw it to the other side of the room.

"If not sooner." His eyes widened and he began working on his tie.

I bit my lip, anxious for whatever inch of skin he was willing to allot me, but my eyes narrowed over his shoulder where there was a giant bar against the far wall. I held up a finger, "You keep doing what you're doing." I hurried past him, kicking off my heels I as did, and swept his jacket up off the floor. He had my arm in his hand in the nick of time and threw his head back in protest.

"Fuck the jacket." He demanded, a hint of annoyance on his breath.

I tilted my head and him and leaned back, comfortable that he wouldn't let me fall. When I felt a strand of hair come out of my clip and tumble into my eyes, I was sure this was the sexiest I'd ever felt. Funny how a celebrity can do that to a girl. "I can think of a few things I would much, much rather fuck besides this jacket." I held it up, "But I'm a woman of my word." I slipped my hand out of his and skipped to the bar, fumbling around with the liquor that had been set up for him. The possibilities were endless, Grey Goose, Patron, Cristal, the list went on a on. It was a cocktail of alcohol, a woman of my age's dream, and AA sponsor's worst nightmare. The bar was brightly lit so it was an easy search for what I needed.

"You know a lot of people think there's no cure for red wine. Once they get some of it one their clothes they immediately throw them out, but that's such a mistake. Red wine is so misunderstood. Ah-ha!" I snatched up the bottle when I found what I was looking for.

Justin was very slowly making his way up to the bar, undressing a little more with every step he took. I would have to work fast, that much was certain, because I knew if he got his hands on me one more time, there was no way I would be able to resist. I found a cork and popped open the bottle, "White wine!" I said, with far too much enthusiasm, as I looked up at him.

He smiled back at me, "White wine gets out Red?" An eyebrow raised on the right side of his face, he was skeptical. The sound of his belt buckle as he undid it alleviated any anger I would have felt at his doubting me.

"Yeah." I said, spilling a bit of it onto the jacket and scratching it gently with my nail, "My mom was a wine freak, but she was a spaz just like me and she was always spilling it all over my father." I laughed, "After years of throwing away his favorite clothes and sleeping on the couch after yelling at my mother about it, he went on a mission. A mission to find the cure to red wine stains. And he found it. White wine."

"Oh yeah?" Justin pushed his pants off of his hips and they pooled around his feet.

I stood, dumbfounded, as he stepped out of them slowly, one foot after the other, before continuing to make his way over to the bar. To me. Slowly. Very slowly. I opened my mouth to speak, but no words would come, so I just nodded. Finally, I cleared my throat and dared to look up from under my eyelids.

He was in his boxers and white undershirt now, but he was no longer making his way toward me. I looked back down at the stain that was quickly lifting, suddenly feeling unworthy of the half naked man in front of me. When I looked back up I willed myself to be confident, "Why'd you stop?" I asked.

His eyes bore into mine as his fingers played quietly against the bottom of his shirt, "How old are you?"

I was surprised by the question, "There's a question every girl loves to hear." I laughed nervously.

He didn't smile. "I was just looking at you right now, and..." He didn't finish.

My heart began to race, "I'm 22." My eyes immediately fell back to the stain, the lie felt bitter on my tongue. I'd never been ashamed of my age before, and I wasn't usually a liar, not by a stretch, but I couldn't risk ruining anything tonight. I rose my eyes back to his, attempting to appear coy. "That's about four years too old for most rock stars, isn't it?"

"You're beautiful." Was all he said, his eyes sincere. It was the first time that anyone had called me a beautiful and nothing else. Not a beautiful black woman, or a beautiful girl. Just beautiful. I loved it. Too much, I loved it.

I had to look back down at the shirt. It was way too intense. "Thank you." I didn't think he heard me. I barely heard myself.

"I don't usually do this."

My eyes shot back up to him, "Shouldn't that be my line, Mr. Timberlake?"

"When did you get a big mouth in the last fifteen minutes?" He asked sweetly, his tone contradicting his sarcastic words.

"I guess you just bring it out it me." I swept my dress over my head in one movement as I said the words, posed and tossed it at him. I only had a second to take in the look on his face before it wrapped around his head and hampered his vision. For a few long moments he just stood there, much to my amusement, before tearing it off his head.

"All right, no more Mr. Nice..." He swept the dress off of his head and, for the first time, I was the one that left him speechless.

I stood, illuminated under the bright lights of the bar, wearing his jacket open on my body and nothing else. It was huge on me, streching down to the middle of my calves, but it felt nice. Through the opening my breasts were full and my nipples peaked out ever so softly, hard and ready. I hadn't worn panties with my dress, so there hadn't been any fuss in taking them off. Being naked under a piece of fabric that had just been on him, still warm and fragrant with his scent made me feel more like a woman then I could ever remember. I had been so long. The way he was looking at me made me feel so good. Beneath the sleeves of his jacket my palms were hidden and sweating. "How do I look?" I whispered.

He didn't answer. Instead, without taking his eyes off of me, he pulled his shirt over his head. It hung at his side for only a second before it fell from his fingers and hit the floor. His chest was ripped and strong, heaving with his desire, and when he tucked his fingers into the waistband of his boxers, I couldn't help but be completely riveted.

"Aren't you ever going to compliment me on my... stain lifting skills?" I lost my breath when he was completely exposed, hard and standing at full attention. Moisture glistened up at me from the tip, expressing that he was just as hungry for this as I was. He reached down and touched himself, then began slowly pumping, once, then twice. My fingers slowly, carefully emerged from beneath the sleeves of his jacket and, with only a moment's hesitation, I placed my hand against my abdomen and slowly slid it down. Fuck, it already felt so good, I could already feel it and I hadn't even done anything, yet. Keeping my eyes riveted to his hand, his fingers, working himself, I slipped my own between my legs, past my lips. The moment they were in, brushing against me, soft and tender, I could have died. My eyes fluttered shut and my head fell back. It was so, so good. Oh god, I needed this. I needed this bad. I found my clit and my entire body responded, thighs tightening around my hand like a vise, breath coming in heavy gasps. "Oh god." I was so close, too close, when it hit me. There was another person in the room with me. A man with a hard dick that he was willing to share and here I was about to finish the job on my own! Just goes to show how long it had been since I'd gotten some.

My eyes fluttered open, hungry for the sight of him touching himself, too, and I was stunned to find him directly in front of me. His eyes searched mine, "Wonderful job with the stain." He said, raspily, tucking his warm hands into the jacket and clutching my waist in an eager grasp.

"Oh god, thank you." I didn't know what I was thanking him for, the compliment or the feeling of his hands running all over my body. I wondered if he could feel it on my skin, smell it on me, how long it had been since I'd been with a man. I hoped it wasn't too obvious. His hands moved behind my back and he pulled my body to his completely. I felt him hard and fast between my legs as he brought me to my toes, the jacket fanned out across his back as I held him, warming both of us up as we came face to face, nose to nose.

"Tell me you want me, Kiki."

"I want you." I clawed at his back, breathing erratically. It wasn't a lie.

"I've wanted you from the second I laid eyes on you. Reading that book. My book. Fuck." He breathed in deeply his eyes falling to my lips, "Why the hell haven't I kissed you yet?" He took the back of my neck and pulled me into him.

I only had time to whisper, "Fuck if I know..."

Then the my phone rang. And rang.

An irritatingly joyful chime with a highly distinct melody.

To this very day, I can barely listen to it.

--

The phone call had been from my father, Vince Brown, a man who only picked up a telephone when someone was missing or dying. Since Jess and I were in elementary school, when our mother passed away, our father had been taking care of us and, we knew, whenever we got a phone call from dad that wasn't initiated by someone else, that it meant it was time to come home. I was sick with fear, sure that he'd figured out that me and Jess weren't in San Diego, at all, but in Las Vegas living it up, his youngest about to fuck one of the biggest superstars on the planet.

I was already near tears, having been stunned to have seen his name on the caller id when I'd tore myself out of Justin's arms. To think that I'd thought about not answering it, at all. I'd taken a seat, naked, on the edge of the bed, "Daddy?" I beamed into the phone, "Daddy, are you okay? Is PopPop okay?" I listened to his response, relieved by his tone of voice. He didn't sound angry, which meant he hadn't found out about Vegas, thank god.

Justin had pulled his boxers back on, thrown the jacket across my naked shoulders and was sitting next to me with a glass of water, rubbing my back. He was being so nice. Any other guy, assuming that they were still as hard as Justin was at that moment, would completely resent the girl who was almost making out with them one minute and damn near nears on the phone with Daddy the next.

My dad continued to assure me that he was fine.

"Is somebody dead?!"

Justin's entire face dropped and his eyes were full of stunned question in mine. His hand rested firmly on my back.

Nobody's dead, my dad reassured, he just needed Jess and I to get home right away. It was important. No, it could not wait.

"Okay. We'll be there. We'll be there as soon as we can."

Justin was disappointed at the words he was hearing, and it showed. After I hung up he bombarded me, "Who died?"

I looked at him, sitting next to me on the bed with a glass of water ready, and it reminded me of how nice it was to have a boyfriend. How long it had been since I had one of those. It had been so long since I'd done anything and that had never been more glaringly clear then it was right at that moment.

"What's wrong?" Justin asked, "What do you need? Anything."

I wiped my eyes, "Nothing. It's nothing. I'm just being dramatic." I swept the jacket off my shoulders and didn't miss the way his eyes immediately took in my naked form. "Nobody's dead it was just..." I looked all around, then jumped up from the bed when I found my dress pooled on the floor. I hurried over to it, much to Justin's dismay. "It was just my father." I said, pulling the dress over my head.

"Do you have to leave?" He asked with a surprising amount of regret in his voice.

"Definitely." I stood tall and took in the expression on his face, "I'm sorry, Justin. I really am. If it were anyone else- anyone else-- it wouldn't matter and we would probably be fucking right now, but it's my dad, you know?" No, Kiki, he doesn't know. "He's the kind of guy who only uses phones when someone is dead in the street or he heard from someone that me or Jess was dead in the street. He needs us to come home and he wouldn't have asked if it wasn't something really, really important. And you're standing here half naked and you smell so good and it has been a long, long time for me and I'd love nothing--nothing more than to make you come right now, hopefully with my coming in a close second," With every word I said he touched me a little more, pulled me a little closer, and I didn't even realize I'd been letting him until I could feel his dick against me. So I pulled back, "but I just can't. Maybe this was all just..." I waved an arm, "A stupid, stupid mistake."

It was a stupid mistake. What the hell was I thinking? I was not the type of woman who could pull off a one night stand without becoming extremely attached and I knew that about myself. How I'd convinced myself that it would be any different with Justin Timberlake I would never know. I was just a woman in a long and endless line of women. And even if hell were to freeze over and he and I did stand a chance I knew he would run for the hills screaming at the top of his lungs when he found out I was seventeen. Just because he'd been the first man to chose me over my sister I was ready to jump in bed with him without thinking things through, at all. It made me hate myself right there, standing in the middle of his ridiculously overpriced suite.

"I'm really sorry." I said, again, grabbing my bag. The phone in my hand rang again and I flipped it open without looking, "Hello? Yeah, Jess, he just called me. I'm leaving right now. At the Venetian. Okay." I took a deep breath, "I love you, too. I know. It scared the shit out of me, too. I'll be out front. Okay. Bye." I closed the phone and looked at Justin. For a long moment we just stood there in the middle of his suite. We had nothing to say to each other because we didn't know each other. Two strangers. Two strangers who were this close to having wild, passionate sex. Or, at least, I like to believe that it would have been wild and passionate, but I don't like to believe that it would have been with a stranger. Justin was just that.

He opened his mouth to speak, but I beat him to it. "This is probably better." It was better. "I don't know what I was thinking." I wasn't thinking. "It would have been a really, really bad idea." I would have been setting myself up for one hell of a heartbreak.

Justin didn't respond. He was clearly uncomfortable and didn't know what to say. "Do you need a ride?"

"No." I immediately declined, "Jess is going to pick me up downstairs and we're going to drive back to California." I began heading towards the door.

"California?" He asked me, shaking his head.

"Yes, LA." I pulled the door open. He set his hand on top of mine.

"Give me your number." He said, softly, "I live in LA, too." He faultered, "You never know what kind of stain I might need to get out." He added, when the look on my face wasn't what he must have been expecting.

"I don't think that's a good idea." Why give him a number that he wasn't even going to call? "It was a nice night. Why don't we just call it what it was? A one night almost-stand."

He didn't laugh, but he did smile, very small, not because I'd said anything funny, but because it was the nice thing to do. He was a nice guy. I released the door handle and wrapped my arms around him. I wanted to thank him for looking at me and not Jess at that party, for making me feel more like a woman than I had in a long time, for giving me a story that would make me the envy of my friends for the rest of our natural born lives. I wanted to thank him for being so nice, to promise him that I would splatter how nice he was all over every message board that had ever trashed him for being an asshole. I wanted to do so many things at that moment, but I didn't know how, so I hugged him because that was the one thing that I really did know how to do. I hugged him as tight as I could and waited for him to squeeze back, pat my back, something, but nothing came. Just me standing there with my arms around him like an idiot. When I was willing to humiliate myself no longer, I let him go, pulling away quickly as a blush crept to my cheeks.

He grabbed my arms and pulled me back, wrapping his own around me as tight as I had him. I hadn't expected that, but it was nice. And it held so much promise. Promises that couldn't be kept.

My father had better have just won a billion dollars.

Because that was the only thing that would be worth walking away from this.

--

After a five hour drive where both of us were contemplating the million and one tragedies that may have befallen our father in the twenty-two hours we'd been gone, the sun was rising, and we were shocked when we rang the bell of our small childhood home and were met with Daddy's smiling face. He was a tall, golden brown man with hazel eyes and a smile to die for.

Jessica was not smiling back, neither was I. "Dude, you just pulled us out of San Diego, CA on the last week of summer. Somebody better be dead in a ditch." Translation: "I was on a roll at the blackjack tables in Ceasar's Palace with another mans money and Kiki was about to get laid for the first time in two years, somebody better be dead in a ditch!"

I elbowed Jess. Though I did partially agree with her, I didn't want her to regret her words if somebody actually was dead in a ditch.

"Baby." Daddy stepped out of the doorway and gave Jess a big hug and a kiss. He turned to me, "Baby!" and did the same. He pulled back, took in the sight of us, heavy sunglasses to hide the bags under our eyes and thick curly hair pulled into equally sloppy buns. "I missed you guys."

"Okay, Daddy, enough with the pleasantries." I was beginning to believe that he really had brought us out here for nothing and if he had I was really, really going to kill him. "Tell us why you called us."

Ever smiling, Daddy motioned into the house, "Come inside, we've got breakfast and tea set out--"

"No, fuck that, Daddy! Maybe you didn't hear me but I was lying on a beach in San Diego now why the fuck am I no longer lying on a beach in San Diego, huh?!" Jessica was no longer having it and I thanked god that our father wasn't a tight ass about profanity. Any other parent and she would have been slapped into next week five minutes ago. Instantly, her entire face collapsed, "Wait a minute..." She pointed to him, "You just said we."

Daddy pulled a innocent look that did not belong on his face, "I did?"

I had heard it the moment he'd said it, before Jess had gone into her second tantrum of the morning, "Yes, you said 'we've got breakfast and tea set out'. We all know that PopPop doesn't rise from the dead before noon and you don't have any friends so who the hell is 'we'?" I crossed my arms over my chest.

"I wanted to surprise you girls, but it looks like I got caught in my own web." Daddy jumbled with laughter.

Jessica and I stood, seething.

"Look, I know you girls were having the times of your life in San Diego, but you are a big part of my life and when my life changes dramatically I think it's important that you be there and, well... I got engaged last night."

The air fell from my lungs as Jessica cried out from behind me and lunged herself into Daddy's arms. I couldn't believe what I'd just heard. Immediately, I knew that I wasn't angry about the news, but I wasn't happy either. When the hell had he had the time to meet anyone? Between Jessica's weekly visits, the fact that I lived with him and his job at the construction site there wouldn't be any time for him to meet anyone. Hell, there wouldn't be any place for him to meet anyone. He never left his couch unless it was the get another beer from the fridge or jump into his truck for work. The last time I'd seen my father with a woman was the night before my mother died so who the hell was this?

He and Jess were now staring at me with their arms wrapped around each other, as if they'd both just delivered this news and were waiting for my response.

I didn't have a response. Oh, wait, yes I did. "Who?" I asked, my voice dead with displeasure. I wasn't sure that I wanted to know the answer.

My father opened his mouth to speak, but before any words could come out there was a foreign voice behind him, a female voice. Then there was an arm wrapped around him from behind, a white arm with skin that was damaged from too much tanning. Then an expensive looking pair of boots that I see Jess liking, a black dress and a face.

My mouth dropped open and I took a huge step away from the woman like I'd seen a ghost. That was certainly what it felt like.

"Baby!" My father beamed proudly, "This is Lynn. Lynn this is Kiki, you know Kiki."

"Oh yes." The southern accent that I'd become so familiar with because it often accompanied the man I was crazy about filled my senses and rendered me speechless. I remembered her face along side of him in the tv specials that I'd recorded in middle school and watched over and over, the dvds I owned. I remembered the name from all of the cd jackets and interviews that I'd read, how proud he was of her. I remembered it all, and I didn't know what to say.

Lynn sensed my complete horror, but she held her hand out, anyway, "I'm Lynn Harless. It's such a wonderful pleasure. Vince has told me so much about you. I got so excited when he told me you're on your school's dance team. I was too! Maybe you could teach me some new moves." She laughed a sweet little laugh.

I couldn't speak.

My father was extremely pissed off, "Keelah!"

"It's okay." Lynn pulled her hand back, camouflaging her wounded expression beautifully, and rubbed Vince's shoulder. There was a familiarity in her gesture, an intimacy, "She's in shock! Which is completely understandable, right?" She looked at me and giggled, "I mean we did kind of spring this on you out of nowhere."

"No, Kiki just has no home training, that's all." Jess crossed her arms over her chest, obviously failing to have made the same connection I had.

"I'm sorry, I..." I. Couldn't. Speak.

The three of them examined me as I struggled to construct an acceptable sentence, they had so much hope in their eyes, as if I were a retarded child who was coming this close to getting it right, but kept falling short.

"I... I... I..." I could only construct one, correct thought.

Thank god I didn't fuck him.

Ten minutes later we were all sitting around our small dining room table in silence. That table had seen many silences. Usually when there was a game on the TV that was visible from the dining room, one of us was pissed off at the other or the food was just so good that there was no time to talk. This silence, however, was the worst kind of silence. The awkward kind. The kind that made you uncertain of who you wanted to kill more, the awkward bastard that you were in the awkward silence with, or yourself, so you wouldn't have to be in that awkward silence for a second longer. My brilliant sister had yet to make the Lynn and Justin connection, so every few minutes she would shoot daggers at me with her eyes, probably because my silence was partly to blame for the weird situation we were all in. Our eyes met and Jess gave me a look that could kill before nodding her head towards Lynn, who could see everything she was doing, frantically. I wanted to smack her.

If Jess loved anything it was running her mouth, so she'd managed to fill most of the silences up until now. We'd heard the story of how Lynn and my father met (he'd rear ended her coming off of the 405 a month ago and it was "love at first sight"), why we hadn't heard a peep about Lynn until now was still up for questioning. They must have discussed a million and one things because we'd all been sitting at that table for an hour but damn if I could remember any of it. All I could remember, all I could think about, was Justin's naked chest, how his hands had felt all over me, how I wanted to throw myself off the edge of a cliff for not giving him my number. How--wait a minute, my father is marrying his mother, I can't think about these things.

That was how I'd spend my last hour. With those exact thoughts. On repeat.

When the silence became too much, I decided that honesty was the best policy. "I was just surprised to see you, Lynn, standing at my door. I was a big fan of your son when I was young so I recognized you immediate--"

Lynn, who for a moment seemed to be stunned that I was speaking to her, at all, didn't even let me finish, "Oh my god. Yes! Oh lord. For a minute there I thought, 'Oh my god this child hates me and she's going to make my life a living hell'. But you were just shocked to see me because of..." I waited for her to say his name, but for some reason she didn't, "Oh good lord!" She laughed so hard that her stomach hurt and she had to lean down, her hair nearly touched the eggs on her plate. She laughed so hard that her face turned red.

Before I knew it, I was laughing to, ignoring the completely mystified expression on my sister's face. I was used to it.

"What?" Jess howled, hating to be left out of anything, "What's so funny?"

Lynn straightened up, "I can't believe I haven't mentioned him, yet, seeing how he's my only son and, well, he's a celebrity, but--"

Jess nearly choked on her orange juice. If you didn't count "millionaire", "celebrity" was her favorite word. I was convinced that there had been a special chip implanted in her brain as a child that prompted her to respond immediately to those two words above all others. Her eyes lit up brighter than every bulb in the small room and I could almost see the dollar signs taking life and springing out of her bugged eyes, just like in the cartoons. "Your son is a celebrity? Who?!"

My father, always the strong silent type, seemed disappointed that Jess was responding like such a maniac. His sanest daughter, moi, had already failed him this morning, and Jess had been his last hope.

Lynn was beaming like the proud mama she was, "Justin Timberlake." She answered.

The forkful of food that Jess had just put in her mouth came flying right back out in huge chunks, one of them hit me right in the eye. Then, of course, Jess was choking, hands clasped across her throat, eyes bugging out like golf balls. My father and Lynn both jumped from their seats, immediately, to aid her.

I just rolled my eyes and continued eating, watching like I was sitting in a seat at the movie theater. Yeah, hoe, I thought, as my father lifted Jess' right arm in the air and Lynn began slapping her back, forcefully, now you understand why I haven't uttered a single passable sentence since this woman walked into our lives. She deserved a little choke action after how she'd treated me that morning. Besides, Jess had always had a flair for the dramatic. I wouldn't actually take this choking of hers seriously until she began to lose color in her face or lost consciousness. She was the kind of girl who would pretend to pass out on the floor or drown in the pool just to see how hysteric you'd become. Then, just when you were in that special second right before real panic set in, she would wake up, point at you and laugh hysterically. Seriously. This was a weekly thing when we were kids. My sister has "died" so many times in our lives that if she was ever really dying, she better pray I wasn't her only hope, because I wouldn't take her seriously until it was far too late. And you know what? She'd have no one to blame but herself. The evil wench.

I had no doubt in my mind that she was faking right now, so I scooped another spoonful of eggs into my mouth and chewed carefully while Dad and Lynn fussed over her.

"I'm fine." Jess waved them away with brave eyes, still holding her throat. She threw me a quick look of displeasure since I hadn't responded to her little show the way I should have, but then she was smiling courageously back at Dad and Lynn, "I'm fine, I'm fine. You just startled me." She beamed at Lynn, who had taken her seat again. "Justin Timberlake." Jess said to Lynn, before looking to me, "Justin Timberlake."

I nodded, tightly. Yes, dear sister, you are now entering last week.

Jess exhaled, "Well! That is just..." Her eyes jotted across the table, but when the landed back on me, they were overcome with amusement, "Special." She finished.

"Special." I repeated before turning to my father, "May I be excused?"

They were all stunned by the question, "Absolutely not." He answered and I could tell from the sound of his voice that he meant it. I wasn't sure how long I could sit at this table now that Jess knew that Justin was Lynn's son. She was offended that I hadn't collapsed into tears while she was "choking" and now she was going to make the rest of this breakfast a living hell. Just for me. Jess was sweet that way.

I threw my father a pleading look as Lynn spoke up, "That's actually why your father and I--"

Jess and I both looked at Lynn. 'Your father and I' was a sentence that was going to take some getting used to.

"Your father and I called you both down here for a reason. We know that you wanted to spend your last week of summer in San Diego, but we were talking about the best way for this new family to bond before the wedding and I mentioned a beautiful cabin that Justin and I have on Lake Tahoe that we have barely used." Lynn reached across the table and took my father's hand, her bright red curls flew into his face as she turned back to us with a smile, "We thought it would be fun to spend the rest of the week up there. A fun family trip."

I didn't know what frightened me more, the idea of spending an entire week on a lake, the fact that a woman was holding my father's hand across the table or the term 'family bonding'. I looked to Jess and saw she wasn't exactly pissing her pants in excitement, either. My father sensed this and said, "You're going." In that no bullshit tone of his. It was decided. We were going.

"Justin is going to be there, too." Lynn said, hopefully.

Mine and Jess' head snapped in her direction. We were going to have whiplash by the end of this breakfast. "Really?!" Jess roared.

Lynn nodded, "Yes, really, the whole week."

Jess' gaze flew to me and she didn't even have to speak because I knew her too well. She was enjoying this. The bitch was enjoying watching me squirm.

"He can't wait to meet all y'all. In fact, I told him we'd all be at the airport to pick him up. He's flying in from Las Vegas this evening."

"Is he?!" Jess cried.

Lynn nodded, "Yes."

Jess' eyes shot to mine. She was turning red with the effort it was taking to conceal her laughter. "Las Vegas, huh? Crazy city." Jess remarked, tucking her soft, carmel colored cheek into her hand and bearing her green eyes into Lynn's, "Craaaaazy."

"Yeah, you know I always worry about what kind of young girls Justin's picking up out there." Jess nodded understandingly, coaxing Lynn on, "I mean it's Vegas. You never know what kind of sexually transmitted infections most of those girls are carrying."

"1 in 4 people is infected with the herpes virus, did you know that Lynn?" Jess asked her, innocently. "I hear those numbers are doubled in Vegas, since people with herpes are drawn in by the city's slogan. You know the slogan... 'What happens in Vegas--"

" 'Stays in Vegas." Lynn finished, shaking her head with eyes full of concern.

I looked at my father in distress. Was this conversation actually happening? But he was gazing at Lynn in adoration. Love-struck.

Lynn shuttered, taking my sister more seriously than any human being ever should, "And, you know what? Justin's the type of boy to trust people. Even after being in the business for half his life he's still not as thick skinned as I'd like him to be. I mean, I'm not saying I want him to be mean and cynical..." For some reason, everyone at the table looked at me, "I just want to make sure he takes care of himself without losing himself, you know? He wears his heart on his sleeve and that worries me so much. He falls in love so easily, ever since he was a boy."

Daddy opened his mouth from where he was quietly admiring all of us silently, a smile lighting his face, "Yeah, didn't he call you earlier today talking about some girl--"

"Oh my god!" Lynn didn't even let him finish, she seemed to have an unconscious habit of interrupting people, "Some little girl, some hussy who probably has herpes..." She motioned to Jess, who nodded, "Waltzes into my baby's party and-- and this is just like Justin-- he took one look and her and, I quote, 'Had to have her.' It was infatuation at first sight."

My father was shaking his head as he ate, laughing quietly at whatever people his age laughed quietly about.

"This girl just waltzed in wearing a purple dress--"

Jess' fork collided with her plate.

Lynn didn't notice, "And before she even opened her mouth she had him." Lynn looked at my father, "She had him." She repeated, before looking back to us, "He took her back to his room and she had to leave early and wouldn't give him her number. Now I know my son, I know him well, and I know that there is nothing--nothing, that he loves more than a girl who's hard to get. Even if she's one of those girls who isn't hard to get but just knows to pretend. He loves that shit." She covered her mouth immediately when the word 'shit' slipped out.

Jess and I were staring at Lynn in complete shock, which only excited her since she was under the impression that we were shocked by her story and not the fact that I was the star of it.

"Like I said, some hussy. He met her seven hours ago and he's all tore up like they've been lovers for years. I don't understand that boy sometimes. He loves Tahoe, so maybe this little trip will get his mind right. I don't know." Lynn finished, then there was a long silence as she looked to Jess and I, expectantly.

We both looked at Daddy and, for once, we were on the same wavelength, "May I be excused?" We both asked at the same time.

We must have passed the breakfast test because, to my complete shock, he said yes.

--

The moment after we stood from the table we'd both run up the stairs like two little girls with a secret. Naturally, I'd gone straight to the door of my room, but Jess insisted we go to hers, instead. I sat in the middle of the bed in her old room, which Dad had yet to turn into his own personal gym, indian style, and my head seemed to be in a permanent back and forth motion, "This is bad, this is bad, this is so bad." She didn't seem to be disagreeing with me or offering any advice or condolence so I threw my arms out, "That's your cue, sis. What am I going to do? What am I going to fucking do? Advise me!"

Jess was sitting next to me on the bed, rubbing my back, "Well, the solution to this problem is simple." She started, and when I nodded, eager for any suggestion, she shrugged, "You're going to have to move to Mexico."

I groaned and collapsed onto the millions of pillows on her bed, "Oh my god, Jess. You heard what Lynn said at the table. He's going to see me and what is he going to do? Is he going to hug me? Is he going to kiss me since he never got the chance to do it in Vegas? Is he going to give me those come fuck me eyes that we both know he's amazing at? Can you imagine how Lynn will react when she finds out we almost had sex? Think about what Daddy will do when he finds out." My mind was running a mile a minute, "I will have to move to Mexico!" I wailed.

"Okay, Kiki? Breathe. Relax. Maybe you and Justin can just... forget it ever happened. I mean it's not like the two of you slept together. You can both just make a fresh start."

I shook my head, "You weren't in that room with us that night, Jess. The attraction was so pronounced. It was alive and dominated everything in the room. The way he looked at me... it was like he wanted to eat me alive. In a good way. How do you fake something like that? How will I be able to look at him, ever again, and see only a step-brother?"

She chuckled, "Well, as soon as he finds out you're seventeen I doubt he'll be so attracted. He's going to hate your guts."

"Oh god." I cried, throwing my head into my hands. "This is such a disaster. This is such a nightmare. And you want to hear the worst part?" I looked back up at her, "I don't want him to forget about that night in the hotel room and move on. I don't want that. I want us to have another chance at what we missed last night. I want him." I whimpered. This was one hell of a fucked up situation.

"Well, of course you want him, baby. He's young, rich, famous, and spent the better part of your childhood pinned up on the wall."

I threw her a look of death.

But she continued, "Of course you don't want this to end the way it's going to end. A calamity. But, Keelah... I honestly don't see any other way around that." She took a moment, brushed my hair like I was a small child, and looked away. Seconds past, and her sweet brushes began to feel more like pats you'd give to a dog. Clearly she was thinking, losing concentration, since multitasking had never been Jess' strong point. I looked up at her, and saw her bottom lip trapped between her teeth right before she muttered, "Unless..."

My entire body jolted. Thank god! She was having an idea! I was so thankful, even though most of Jess' ideas were far from inspired, but at that point I was grasping at straws, "What?" I was like a hungry puppy nipping at meat.

"Maybe..." Jess seemed to have a moment where she was going to change her mind, all together, as if the thoughts running through her head were insane, but then she bounced back, "Maybe he doesn't have to know that the woman who had him entranced in his hotel room is going to be his future step sister, at all."

I peered, not following.

"Remember those red glasses you wore all through middle school? The ones with the squares frames? You looked like a completely different person when you wore those. Plus, I've always hated that horrible brown contact you insist on wearing. Your natural eyes are so much prettier."

Okay, my sister had officially lost any and all respect I may have had for her point of view with that last sentence. "I have one brown eye and one purple, Jess. I look like I walked right out of a episode of Star Trek when I don't hide that thing." The 'thing' I was referring to was my right eye, which was a pale violet color with a splash of blue in the center. By itself, it was a stunning eye. A stunning eye. But, you see, eyes come in a set. I needed two purple eyes to pull off the pretty, otherwise it was just a waste. Don't even get me started on my left eye, a brown that wasn't even an appealing brown that most people would find comforting. No, it was just an ugly brown eye, the color of shit. So many times in my life perfect strangers had gone out of their way to stare at me. Pretty girl, but something just isn't quite right. Acquaintances were baffled by them, barely able to grasp the concept that two eyes could be different colors, let alone that there was actually a human being on Earth with the balls to rock them out. Needless to say, halfway through my freshman year of high school I begged my father to take me to the eye doctor for a color contact. I had one in brown and one in purple, though I used the brown one more.

"I love your eyes. They are the eyes you were born with and they're fabulous. Especially the purple one. God, talk about fucking gorgeous."

"Thank you, Jess, that's sweet. But no matter how gorgeous, it is still an eye. It's supposed to come in a matching set. Like earrings." I tried to explain.

She rolled her eyes, "Whatever, we're getting way off track. Like I was saying... when you don't have that contact in your eye you look kind of different, too. Plus, you've been in the market for a haircut," She fingered a few strands of my long, black hair, "And a color, might I add, for a while now...."

"Jess..." I was extremely troubled now, especially at the mention of my purple eye and the red glasses that had been the bane of my pre-teen existence, "What are you saying?"

She shrugged innocently, "I'm just saying that, with a few nips and a few tucks you could become... a whole other person."

"Jess..." My heart was beginning to pound uncontrollably, "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying..." She said, in a tone meant for stupid children and stubborn adults, "Justin doesn't have to look at you and see KiKi. He could look at you and see.. anyone." She raised her eyebrows and dragged out that last word, clearly proud of herself.

"Are you actually suggesting that I pretend to be a different person? Because that's bound to piss him off much less than me lying about my age, right?" I rolled my eyes, "God, why do I listen to you, ever?"

"Look bitch, I'm your big sister and I know better. Respect your elders!" She pushed me and jumped off of her bed, crossing the room to her vanity table. Through the mirror I saw her open her mouth, unfortunately, to speak some more. "Come to think of it, coloring your hair is a bad idea because you have that perm in it. So, yeah, that's out unless we want to see chunks of it in the shower drain halfway through the shampoo." She laughed to herself. "I spent way too much time growing it out to lose it in one fell swoop."

My hair fell down my back in thick black waves, stopping just a few inches above my bra strap and Jess was right, I had no one to thank but her. My hair wasn't extremely long, but I had the longest hair of any other black girl in my school and some of those bitches hated me for it, which only made me love my hair more. When Jess permed it at age twelve I'd loved it, but, when my father saw it , I was sure he was going to murder Jess right where she stood. I remembered that night clearly. He'd been making spaghetti in the kitchen and was using an unnecessarily large knife to cut the noodles in half. I'd walked in with my hair (it was barely past my ears back then) straight as an arrow. I remember the exact moment he'd stopped breathing, right after I asked him if he liked what Jess had done to my hair. He swept past me, eye manic, stride quick and purposeful.

Unfortunately, he only screamed at her until his voice was gone, he hadn't killed her, which was why I was sitting where I was now forced to listen to her drivel. She carried on talking about what a great plan it was to lie to Justin even more than I already had and it was harder to drift off into my own thoughts and completely zone her out than it usually was. Seriously, if the US Military ever needed some fresh torture devices to use on their enemies my loud mouth sister was the quintessential solution. She could end the war on terror in record time, honestly. Forget about ripping out teeth, cutting off fingers and injecting debilitating liquids. That's just a waste of good, America tax dollars. Throw Osama in a room with my sister while she talked about strappy back sandals and he would sing like a canary in under twenty seconds. I guarantee you.

I stared at her back, "Why are you rambling on and on as if I've agreed to anything? You're asking me to do this to a man who is going to be our step-brother. I wont do it."

"I'm sorry, KiKi, but I was under the impression that you wanted to fuck Justin Timberlake." She finally finished fussing in the drawer of her vanity and turned to me. She leaned against it and balanced against her arms behind her back. "Or did you leave Pure and go back up to his hotel room to play a rousing game of Scrabble?" Her eyes widened and she laughed at her own joke.

"If I didn't know any better I'd say you're a little jealous."

"Of course I'm jealous. We were at the biggest party hosted by the biggest star and he chose you over me. Of all times for hell to freeze over it had to be last night, at Justin Timberlake's birthday party." Jess was such a snob, at moments like these I wondered if she even knew it, "Whatever, there are a million rich guys out there, Justin Timberlake is not the end all, be all. I can have any man I want, you on the other hand... " She sighed a dramatic sigh, and I wanted to strangle her, "I'm just trying to help you out because I love you. How many chances like this are you going to get in life? To fuck a hot, rich guy? It's been two years for you, what better way to get back in the game then with Justin Timberlake? It's not like I'm telling you that you should disguise who you are for the rest of our lives. Just until you get yours."

"And what happens to me when I get mine? I'm just supposed to come clean with all of it, giggle and hope that he doesn't mind being a castoff? Common, Jess, be for real. I'd be better off throwing myself to a pack of wolves!"

"So you're ready to go to that airport tonight and face him? You're ready for him to look at you and see nothing but a snot nosed, seventeen year old brat? And a lying one, at that?"

I wasn't ready to see his face at the airport, not at all. I wanted to see Justin, again, more than I would have imagined. With every minute that passed I hated myself a little more for not giving him my phone number when he'd asked for it. More than anything I wanted to call him right now and warn him, warn him that the twenty-two year old woman he'd almost slept with in his hotel room was actually me, a seventeen year old girl and, oh yeah, I'm the youngest daughter of the man who's marrying your mom. It obviously wouldn't be the most delightful conversation, but at least then, when we went to pick him up at the airport, there wouldn't be that moment of uncertainty, the painful awkwardness and the mystery. The mystery of how he'd react. Pissing him off over the phone seemed much more appealing than doing it in person. I could barely look into the pissed off eyes of representatives at retail stores when I was returning an item, let alone a man I'd almost slept with.

"KiKi, you're terrified of seeing him, I can see it in your eyes. I, personally, think this is a great idea. It's not like he's going to be living in the same house as you or even be around that much. He's a superstar for god's sakes, he'll probably be gone for 75% of the year. He has his own house, probably with his own cooks and butlers. The only time he'll even see you is on the odd weekend and a couple holidays. And, even then, it'll only be the weekends and holidays that he happens to be in town and how often will that happen? Those are the only times that you'll have to pretend. Meanwhile, you, the real you, will see him as much as you want. All he'll know is that he has a really hot black girl on his arm and a really dorky little sister back at home. Two separate, independent people. He never has to know, Kiki. You can so have your cake and eat it, too, right now. Sometimes a woman has to be a little conniving to make things go her way. If you were a smart woman, like your sister, you would be all over this opportunity like a moth to a flame."

Throughout her entire speech, which had excited me way more than it should have, she was waving her arms all over the place. Jess had a habit of doing that--speaking with her hands. Whenever we were in a situation where she was speaking to more than one person, like an entire group, I was always worried for the people who were standing closest to her. All it took was one second of over excitement on her part and the poor, unsuspecting soul standing behind her would take an elbow right to the nose in front of everyone. Right now, while Jess was throwing those arms that doubled as Louisville Sluggers every which way, there was a slither of gold that would vaguely come into my view. "What is that article of clothing you're waving all over the place?"

She stopped speaking, all together, and for a moment it seemed like she was going to unload on me for daring to interrupt such an inspired speech. Instead, she opened her right hand and a wig came into my vision, hanging from her fingers, "Remember that Beyonce wig I wore for Halloween?"

I did remember. The day that Jess and I saw Beyonce's new video for 'Me, Myself and I' she decided that she had to have the blonde wig Beyonce had been wearing. My sister looked exactly like Beyonce, she heard it all the time and she saw it every time she looked in a mirror so whatever Beyonce did, Jess did. I shook my head as I recalled all of the horrible hairstyles, outfits and attitude changes my father and I had to endure over the years thanks to her Beyonce obsession. The wig, however-- a completely gorgeous, completely expensive mass of dirty blonde hair cut into a bob that stopped sharp just about the shoulders, was fierce. It was a fierce wig, and it had looked amazing on my sister. But I wasn't my sister.

"Forgive me, Jess, but I seem to recall your threatening to have both of my hands completely lacerated from my body if I ever went anywhere near that wig."

"That was before you had the chance to bang Justin Timberlake. Besides... I'm over that whole Beyonce faze. I'm too old for all that."

Oh please. Two hours--TOPS-- before she completely contradicted every word she'd just said. I sighed, "My skin is too dark for a blonde wig."

"You are not dark. You're brown. Like a really deep tan or a sepia color. You've got beautiful skin and, as much as it angers me that you tried it on so many times without my permission, this wig does look good on you." She tilted her head at me, "I think it'd be perfect. You'll wear it whenever you need to be Vince's seventeen year old daughter, along with the glasses and your natural eyes. And you'll take it all off whenever you need to be Justin Timberlake's twenty-two year old fuck buddy. You. Can't. Go. Wrong."

"A wig and a pair of glasses is not going to be enough. There is a certain intimacy that comes with fucking a person. They start the recognize the little things. Your natural scent, your mannerisms, that little mark under your knee that you got the first time you tried to shave without your mother's permission. Glasses and a wig just wont cut it." I was shaking my head back and forth.

Jess stared at me, "KiKi, you are severely, severely overestimating the attention span of every man on the planet. However, if Justin does happen to be the million to one exception to that, and he starts to catch on to what you're doing then--" She bared her teeth and made a slashing sound, swiping her manicured finger across her throat, "We cut it off, immediately. Done."

"Suppose I go along with this. How do you suppose I'll meet him, again? The last time he saw me I refused to give him my number. We have no way of getting in contact. The only time he'll really see me is when we're doing family stuff together and I'll have to be in disguise that whole time."

Jess tilted her head at me and I suddenly felt like one of those poverty stricken children on those commercials that everyone felt sorry for, and she was the host. The fat, condescending host of that commercial who talked down to any and everyone who dared watch it all the way through. "Oh, KiKi, you really are seventeen, aren't you?"

"And you're twenty-seven, what's your point?"

"I'm twenty-four!" Her eyes went bright red and foam began bubbling over her lip glossed lips. She was upset, but, honestly, between you and me, Jess had been turning twenty-four for the last three years now. I knew her age was her soft spot, and it was frightening territory that I wouldn't normally venture, not even jokingly. I just hated when she talked down to me. Hated it. Thankfully, she decided to spare my life just that once, and continued like I hadn't say anything, at all. "His mother is marrying our father! For the rest of our lives we have an All Access Pass to everything Justin Timberlake. He's going on this stupid trip with us, isn't he? All you have to do is say you're going for a walk, take off the wig and glasses and accidentally run into him on the slopes, or something."

"Jess, we're going to Tahoe in August. There are rivers and snakes, not slopes."

"Whatever, you know what I mean. You'll always know where he is, so all you have to do is accidently run into him... on purpose."

I was stunned at how quickly she was throwing these answers back at my face and the fact that they were actually acceptable answers! "How many men have you manipulated in your life?"

"A lot." At least the hoe was willing to be honest about something.

"This is all so Machiavellian." I tilted my head at her, "Haven't you considered his feelings, at all?"

"No." She answered so definitely and so immediately that it took me off guard. I didn't even have a response. Volatile-- yes, egomaniacal--absolutely, slightly dimwitted--sure, but I never believed that my sister was cold-blooded. It would be nice, though, really nice, to have sex with Justin Timberlake. I could just do it once and then cut it off at the source. And for the rest of my life I would wear a stupid wig and glasses whenever he stopped by for a visit. It actually seemed like a very small sacrifice when I actually thought about it.

"Don't you think Dad and Lynn will notice that I just happen to throw on my wig and glasses whenever Justin stops by?" I sputtered, shaking my head.

"You're graduating in a year and will be off to Brown by the fall--"

"Don't jinx me." Brown was my dream school, so much was it my dream school that I didn't even like talking about how much it was my dream school. The more I excited myself the father I had to fall. I got straight A's, sure, I had the extracurriculars, yeah, but the past had proven even those weren't garanteed didn't seal the deal. Plus there was that Asian bastard at school, David Lenney, who was neck and neck with me for the valedictorian title and everyone knows that Brown rarely accepts two students from the same school. That, however, was a whole other story entirely. "Just, don't jinx me." I mumbled, again, my heart returning back to normal after the, always distressing, thoughts of David Lenney.

Jess had always been resentful of my grades, even when we were kids, so she just rolled her eyes. "Spare me, girl wonder, you're getting into Brown. It's not like it some big fucking secret. It'll just be a year. One whole year of you spending time with Justin Timberlake, a good portion of that time will be spent completely the fuck naked. Once you head off to school he'll probably see you once or twice a year and you can gradually get back to your normal look every time you see him. By the time you graduate college and you're back to your normal self, he wont even have realized that you've changed. You'll just be the girl who used to have nerdy glasses and bad clothes, but is now a fox who kinda looks like that one girl he used to fuck." She shrugged.

Okay, my sister was a genius.

Oh god, I was not going to let her talk me into this. I refused! I refused to be talked into this!

"Think about it. The way he looked at you, the way he touched you, the way he made you feel like the only woman in the world...."

Oh fuck, she was talking me into this.

"Think about the way he made you feel about yourself. Like a woman. Are you really ready for that man to look at you like a child? Think about it, Kiki." She narrowed her eyes at me, "Are you really ready for him to look at you and only see his little sister?"

--

The sun went down way too quickly.

I changed my mind fifteen times. Fifteen. I'd actually counted. First, back in Jess' room, I'd tried to wig on, then changed my mind for an hour. Then I'd taken out my brown contact, leaving one eye brown and one purple, took one look at myself in the mirror and had a change of heart again, for fifteen minutes. It was a ping pong game with my emotions as the ball. For the entire time we'd been in the house it was a game of back and forth on whether or not I was going to do this, all the way up until the moment that my father screamed from the bottom of the stairs, "Girls, let's go! Justin's plane will be here in an hour!"

Now we were sitting in the backseat of Lynn's car, Jess and I, as it zoomed down the 405. It was a sleek little black BMW with matching black rims and windows so tinted I had a half a mind to ask if they were legal. "Is this car at all visible during the night?" I asked, leaning against my seatbelt and gripping the back of the passengers seat, where Lynn sat. I could hear her laughter clearly.

"No, this car, literally, disappears at night. Justin thinks it's the coolest thing on wheels and he didn't even consider my reputation for forgetting to turn my lights on when he bought it for me. I've had many near accidents in this car."

"It drives beautifully." I was sure that my father was salivating into his own lap as he spoke while turning a smooth corner. This was the nicest car any of us had ever sat in, let alone drove. Lynn was nice to let him drive it, I know I wouldn't have, even if it was the man I was going to marry.

Jess tapped Lynn's shoulder, "You might want to have some tissues ready to wipe off Daddy's seat when he gets out of your car." All of the women of the car fell into simultaneous laughter while my father simmered at the wheel.

"Haha, very funny, the car is going to give your father an orgasm, laugh it up." He said dryly, quickly, clearly unamused by Jess' little joke.

"Ew!" Jess and I were never ready for that kind of talk coming from his mouth. "Daddy!" I cried, leaning forward, I registered Lynn's quiet giggling, "Daddy, let's get one thing very clear. You do not have orgasms." Jess shook her head furiously, obviously in complete agreement.

As quickly as there was laughter, though, the car was silent. We weren't all completely used to each other, yet, so the awkward moments always came hard, fast and in very large doses. Jess and I weren't even whispering and giggling to each other in the backseat like we usually did. We both had too much on our minds. If I had to guess, I'd say she was just as nervous as I was, if not more. I reached up, barely able to see my own hand in the car that was pitch black outside of the red lights on the dashboard, and fingered the blonde wig. I adjusted the glasses that I'd yet to get used to and tugged on the too big Counting Crows shirt from back in the day when I was still shy about my body. I adjusted the glasses one more time. Did these things even fit anymore? Ugh. Sure, I'd been squinting at the world for the better part of my life and being able to see was like waking up for the first time, but even that wasn't worth having to wear these hideous things.

Right before we left the house Jess and I had come bounding down the stairs, Jess in her usual outfit that was more fit for the back room at a strip club than the entryway of a single family home, and me... in this. My father had taken one look at me and, man, I'm pretty sure his eyes glazed over at that blast from the past. With the glasses and the wonky eyes and the baggy outfit I really did look like a twelve year old. If I were to bust out my sixth grade yearbook picture right now and set it up next to my face you would never know that almost a decade had past since it had been taken. I hated to admit it but Jess had been right. I really did look like a different person. This insane plan really could work. If I played my cards right I could be having sex with Justin Timberlake before the week was out.

My father hadn't seemed unhappy with my surprising appearance, just confused, "New look?" He'd asked, with a smile, "Is that Jess' Beyonce wig?" His smile died, immediately.

I'd touched the back of the wig and given them the best uncomfortable look I could, "I just figured since the family was changing so drastically that it was time for a drastic change of my own."

Clearly, by the dumbfounded expression on his face, this explanation did nothing for my father. When he was silent for a moment too long, Lynn had jumped in, "I think it's wonderful, KiKi. The wig looks so natural and the color of those glasses makes your eyes pop!" She'd widened her own eyes and thrown the palms of her hands out into the air to drive her point home.

"Thanks." I'd said, smiling past the horror I felt, since I'd rather die a slow, painful death then wear anything that made my eyes POP, "And if you don't mind, Lynn. I'd really prefer it if you called me Nicole, or Nikki for short."

Everyone, my sister included, had been shocked when I'd said those words. Jess was shocked, it seemed, only because she couldn't believe I'd remembered such a small detail as changing my name. Really, though, how many KiKi's do you know? I had to change it. Anything that would give Justin even the tiniest inkling had to be changed. Nicole is my middle name and the only two people I'd ever allowed to call me that without getting their eyes clawed clear out of their heads were my mother and my father. I saw a hint of distrust in Daddy's eyes for a moment, then gratefulness. He saw my request as a peace offering to Lynn. An acceptance of her as my new mother. It was anything but.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know." Lynn covered her heart, worried that she'd offended me somehow, "Whenever your father talked about you he called you KiKi. He did mention that Nicole was his nickname for you, but.., I never thought." Oh god, I'd thought, she was getting teary eyed, "I never thought that you'd ask me to." She sighed, shoulders collapsing in embarrassment, "I'm rambling! Of course I'll call you Nicole--Nikki! Nikki! I'd love to."

"Great!" And that had been the end of that. We all climbed into the car shortly after and now were were fifteen minutes. Fifteen minutes. From the airport.

"I'm excited." Lynn was practically bouncing out of her seat, "I'm excited to see him, I'm excited for him to meet all of y'all, I'm excited for the family we're building. I'm just..." She took a deep, thoughtful breath, then faltered.

"Excited?" Jess offered.

Lynn pointed to her, giving her a playful little wave of her finger, "Yes!" She beamed.

And then, right then, I felt bad. Really bad. She was clearly a sweet woman who wore her heart on her sleeve. Already she'd accepted Jess and I without question or hesitation. With that kind of loyalty to two girls she barely knew I could only imagine how much she loved her own son. It was probably the kind of love that our mother had felt for us. The kind of love that made her hurt when we hurt. I was sure that whenever Justin hurt, Lynn felt that same hurt in her heart times ten. Knowing that I could be apart of making her feel that way did not sit well in my already rumbling stomach.

"No turning back." Jess mumbled from next to me. She knew me very well. I hadn't said a word to her the entire ride yet she could sense, immediately, every time I was anxious.

Sooner than I would have liked my father was complaining about how the prices of airport parking were astronomical compared to the prices in his day, while the teenage parking attendant rolled her eyes because she probably heard that very thing all day long and, really, like she gave a shit. Daddy grumbled all the way up to the eight level of the parking garage and all the way into the airport.

It had been years since the terrorist attacks but LAX was still on high alert so once we got inside we weren't even allowed past the baggage check, let alone into the terminal where we'd be able to wait for Justin at the gate. Oh well. I was thankful when we stopped walking at the closest baggage claim, looking out for Justin the entire time. Jess and I were sitting on the edge of the only baggage strip that wasn't moving with Dad and Lynn standing a few feet in front of us. My father was behind Lynn with his hands on her shoulders. Every time she got too excited and jumped up on her toes, his would squeeze her shoulders tenderly, and she would come back down to earth and stay there for several minutes. This went on and on, to the point that it was almost beginning to irritate me. I looked to Jess to see if she was equally annoyed, but she was much more bothered by a hangnail she was picking at with eyes of death.

I shook my head at her and turned back to Lynn and my father, but my gaze stopped short. There he was. Justin fucking Timberlake was walking towards us with a natural swagger that few men had down pat. With anyone else, I would have been annoyed at the fact that they were wearing sunglasses indoors, but somehow it wasn't as grating when it was Justin. He was wearing airplane clothes. Jeans, a white t-shirt, a white hat and a hoodie that was pulled very low on his head. A small, no fuss brown duffle bag hung from his shoulder. He was simple, but sharp. Fuck, he was fine. For a split instant I was dumb struck, then, in a whisper that matched my shock at the unexpected sight of him, I said, "Oh my god, there he is."

Jess' head popped up, hangnail disregarded.

Two seconds later, Lynn squealed, "There he is!" And took off running. Dad and Jess stayed put. I did, too, but it wasn't without effort. Having been an NSync fan for as long as I had there would always be an advanced level of restraint I'd have to exercise when I was in the presence of any of the five members. To control my natural instinct, and just in cause you were wondering, my natural instinct was to run after Lynn and body slam her before continuing onto Justin, so I could have first dibs at ripping him to shreds, I clawed my nails against the jeans on my thighs.

Justin was close, close enough for me to see the anxious look in his eyes as they searched the baggage claim. Close enough to see his eyes catch Lynn and convey recognition. The smile that crossed his face was brilliant, and I was disappointed that I had only a moment to see it before Lynn catapulted herself into him. The force of her weight threw him and his hood and hat both went flying right off his head. He didn't seem to notice. She was no size two, and he had clearly just woken up, but Justin didn't seem to have a problem catching her with one arm and swinging her around. Their laughter was genuine and jubilant, so much so that every once in a while people would turn and scowl, wondering who had the nerve to be so god damn happy? The last thing Justin needed was the extra attention, but that was obviously the last thing on his mind as he set Lynn down and they clasped hands, proceeding to talk to each other at about a thousand words a minute. I wasn't sure if there was even an actual conversation going on, there was no way they understood each other, or if they just liked the sound of hearing one another talk at full speed.

When my father began making his way over, I stood up and immediately followed. Strangely enough, I didn't feel nervous. In fact, I'd completely forgotten that there was anything to be nervous about until Jess came up behind me and adjusted my wig. Yes! Adjusted my wig! In public. I made a mental note to remind her that adjusting my wig in public was a big, insert finger wag here, no-no.

It wasn't until Daddy touched the small of Lynn's back that she stopped talking to Justin. She turned to us, quickly, as if she'd been there alone the whole time, but when she caught sight of Daddy, she threw herself at him the same way she had at Justin. Justin took that moment, those three seconds they were embracing, to look towards us. It didn't occur to me until that second, that very second, that he had met Jess. He'd seen her face, shaken her hand, talked and laughed with her. She didn't have a disguise. If he recognized her he would immediately ask her where Kiki was, then he would look at me and he would know. He would just know.

Jess seemed to be having the exact same thought at the exact same time because as soon as he removed his sunglasses and turned towards us she immediately turned away, pretending to be studying the designs of the carpet and adjusting her hair to hide her face. I, however, couldn't tear my eyes away from Justin, and when he looked at Jess, there didn't seem to be a hint of recognition. I thought back to the short elevator ride we'd taken at the Venetian, how he'd given me that dumbfounded look when I mentioned Jess, and breathed easy. If he hadn't remembered her then he wouldn't remember her now.

But what if he remembered my nose? My lips? What if he remembered my voice? What if I had some bizarre habit, something that I wasn't even aware of, that I would unleash right in front of him and effectively blow my entire cover? What if? What if? What if?

"And this is Ki-- Uhm, Nicole! This is Nicole!" Lynn cried, so proud you would have believed that this black girl was her actual child, who she'd given birth to, and motioned to me while grabbing Justin's arm and pulling him. She was pulling him closer to me. It was so embarrassing. If he wanted to come closer he would! Now that he was this close, however, I realized his being this close was something that I would never become accustomed to. There would always be that stomach flip, that moment of doubt, that holy-shit-this-is-Justin-Timberlake feeling alive somewhere inside me.

Justin's gaze left my father, who he'd apparently already been introduced to while I was lost in my crazed mind, and landed right on me. A moment of silence stretched on for a moment too long, his eyes boring into mine. Why was he looking at me like that? I asked myself. Why wasn't he smiling? Why wasn't he offering to shake my hand? Why was he just standing there?

He knew it was me. That had to be it. The plan had fallen flat before it even got off the ground and I would have to come up with some excuse as to why I'd lied to him about my age and why I'd been in Vegas in the first place and why I was wearing those disgusting glasses. How was I going to explain the glasses?!

Justin took another long look at me, blinked and said, "Oh my god."

"Oh my god." Justin motioned to me, "Your eyes are unbelievable. Jesus. They're natural?"

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Oh, and all of the negative comments I've ever made about my eyes? Retracted. "Yeah, they're natural. Melanin hasn't been on my side since the day I was born."

Justin tilted his head and squinted one eye, "Melanin?..."

"Yeah... Eye color is determined by the amount of melanin in each eye. My right eye has less melanin than my left, which is why it's purple. That's why darker skinned people usually have brown eyes, because they have more melanin in their skin. Most white people have lighter eyes because they have less melanin in their skin. I got caught somewhere in the middle." How. Boring. Could. I. Get?

Justin nodded, "Very cool." Well, he certainly didn't seem bored. "How old are you, Nicole?"

"Seventeen."

"Wow." He must have seen the look on my face, "No, I'm just surprised. You seem much... younger. You're extremely well spoken, though, for seventeen."

Lynn took his shoulder and smiled brightly, "Nikki is a straight A student and she's up for Valedictorian. She's going to try for Brown in the fall."

"Shut the fuck up!" Justin yelled, "Now you know I'm going to be up there every year visiting you for basketball season, right?"

Oh god, I really would have to wear this disguise for the rest of my life. "I haven't been accepted, yet."

"You will." Lynn said with so much confidence that I didn't have the heart to argue.

I went to ask Justin how his flight had been, but, since the attention had been off of her for a good five minutes now, Jess had to throw herself into the mix. She stepped in front of me, much to Justin's surprise, and held her hand out, "Hi, I'm Jessica, Vince's oldest daughter. You may remember me from..."

My eyes popped out of my head. What the fuck was she doing?

"... From a few NSync concerts my sister and I went to years ago."

"Oh yeah." Justin pointed to her, "Was it a concert in Los Angeles?"

"Yes!" Jess beamed, as if he were so intuitive, even though we all lived in Los Angeles and were currently standing in it's largest airport.

Justin seemed deep in thought, then asked her, "Staples Center?"

"Yep." Jess nodded.

"Third row?"

"Fourth row."

"Were you the one with the head?"

My mouth twitched as Jess hesitated, then nodded, "Uh... yes?"

Justin snapped his finger and pointed at her, nodding vigorously, "I remember you! I remember you!"

We all laughed quietly at my sister's expense. She didn't realize that the joke was on her until a few moments later, but when she did her lip hung down lower than I'd seen hang in a long time. I was secretly pleased. I was secretly pleased with anyone who had the guts to fuck with Jess. Most people didn't, usually men, because they were intimidated by her beauty. Justin, however had seen his fair share of beautiful women and was clearly unruffled by her looks. I would have believed this was something Jess would like about Justin, since she always complained about the dates she missed when men where too afraid to ask her out, but she wasn't happy. Not at all.

After a few minutes of polite conversation, we all decided it was time to get back to the car so we could go home and pack for Tahoe, and Jess was the first one to stomp towards the exit, walking a mile a minute.

I shook my head and watched Lynn and my father hurry after her while I took my own leisurely pace. Just when I thought to look back to see where Justin was I felt an arm go around my shoulder and the scent that I'd been fantasizing about for the last few hours wafted into my nose. I never would have imagined, as I looked up and saw him looking down at me, that I would be this close to him again, so soon, or that we would both be as fully clothed as we were. He had retrieved his hat and sunglasses from where they'd fallen to the floor and put them back on his face, making him look like a different Justin in the best possible way. As fine as he was at the moment, at the same time, I couldn't believe how normal he was, that he was actually willing to touch me. Put his arm around me. As far as he knew, I was a complete stranger. We walked together, him with his arm around my shoulder and me with my arms crossed over my chest. I wanted to touch him back. To wrap my arm around his waist or even take the large hand hanging next to my chin in my own, but I was afraid if I moved, he would realize that he was touching me and pull away. I tried not to breathe too hard, shift too much or make direct eye contact. Justin Timberlake was touching me. This was a moment that needed to be savored and extended for as long as humanly possible.

At that point, he was practically pulling me along, since I was lost in my own world. "So... looks like we're going to be siblings." He said, conversationally.

I couldn't wipe the smile off... my.... face. I stared at the carpet below me, watching our sneakers moving in the same stride, trying to bite my grinning cheeks, "Yeah, it looks like it."

"How do you feel about that?"

"Well, to be honest, I've never been a huge fan of plagiarizers."

"Plagiarizer? How am I a plagiarizer?" He beamed, lightheartedly.

I finally managed the courage to look into his eyes, and almost stopped walking completely. The sight of them up close was... no picture would ever sufficiently capture them. Not ever. I attempted to appear coy, rather than what I really was--completely maniacal. "Justin, I was an NSync freak as a kid just like every other girl on the planet. As much I as enjoyed watching you piss my sister off just now I know that you totally, totally stole that joke from Chris. On NSync N' the Mix, The DJ was reading a letter from a fan asking if you guys remembered her from the eighth row of a concert, and Chris said, 'Is she the one with the head?' I think I watched that DVD five thousand times in middle school. Honestly, I know the entire thing word for word. That was Chris' joke. Plagiarizer." I pointed to him.

"Whoa! Whoa!" Justin stopped walking, completely, and I stopped with him. For a quick second I looked to my father, Lynn and Jess who must have assumed we were right behind them, because none of them had looked back. Justin was still rambling on in mock confusion when I looked back at him, "Listen, I did not steal that joke from Chris. Chris stole that joke from me. I had been telling that joke for years before that DVD came out. Chris just happened to be on camera when he stole it so everyone believed it was his. Nic." He tilted his head, "How you trying to play me, girl?"

I loved. Loved. Loved. That he'd just called me Nic. Loved it. However, I was not convinced. "So you're not only a plagiarist, but a compulsive liar, as well?"

Justin clearly wasn't used to people talking back to him, hell, I barely understood where I was getting the balls to challenge him the way I was, but he didn't seem to mind because he threw his arm back over my shoulder and pulled me even closer than I was before. "Oh, I'm going to have fun with this one." He said, taking me in a playful headlock.

I shifted out of it and pushed him with all my might, delighted when the sound of his laugh, his real laugh, filled my ears. He was absolutely going to have fun with me. In fact, he had no idea just how much fun.

Absolutely no idea.

Justin didn't have a car at the airport so he spent the entire ride to the house in the backseat smushed between Jess and myself. She was still pouting, staring out of her window with her cheek in her hand, mad at the world, and Lynn and Vince were in their own world up front. So I was the only one left. Left on my own to entertain the biggest star in the world. It was surprisingly easy. I didn't need to recall my best childhood anecdotes or know the best jokes. No, Justin was entertained from the moment I took out my pink Razr to check a text message from a friend. He asked me what games I had on it.

"Um..." I opened the games consul on my phone, quietly embarrassed that the red nail polish on my nails was beginning to chip, "I've got Pac Man, Miss Pac Man, Bowling, Scrabble, Wheel of Fortune--"

"Scrabble?" Justin's eyes widened in mine and he make a squirly motion with his hand, "Let's go. You and me, Nic." Our legs had been smushed together for the entire ride, which was why I got so disoriented when he moved himself even closer. I don't know which prospect pleased me more, that he was moving closer to get near me or moving closer to get away from Jess. It was obvious to me how much it bothered her that, for the second time, Justin liked me more than he liked her. Even in baggy clothes and ugly glasses with two different color eyes I had still managed to snag his first place. She hated it, a lot, and when Jess hated things, she showed it. I was a little pissed about what a child she was being, sending off such negative vibes to this guy who was so nice and was going to be apart of our family, but I could hardly do anything about it. Justin Timberlake's knee was touching my knee. I had bigger fish to fry.

Ten minutes in, I was pretty much murdering him. To my complete delight, he was an excellent loser. Or not.

He bumped his shoulder to mine as Dad pulled onto the 405, "Okay, no, I'm sorry. No. Mungo? Mungo is not a word." He was the worst loser, ever.

I threw him a look, "Justin. This is the fifth word I've used that you've insisted isn't a word. The game wouldn't accept it if it wasn't a word. Okay? I'm really going to have to give you some lessons on losing gracefully."

"To do that you'd have to have lost at something in your entire life, which you certainly haven't." Jess spat, shocking all of us into looking at her. It was the first sentence she'd said for the whole drive.

After a few moments, Justin turned back to me, "Define it."

I sighed, "Justin, the testosterone is too much. I'm losing air over here."

"Define. It."

I looked to Lynn, who was turned completely around in her seat, watching us with an adoring smile. When my eyes caught hers, she nodded, clearly believing her son could stand to be taken down a peg or twenty. I rose my eyes to Justin, "Mungo, a cloth made from recycled woven or felted material." I paused, "Mungo."

"Hm." Justin smacked his lips.

Lynn beamed at him, "She's wicked smart, baby."

"Fuck yeah she is." He scowled at me, "Too smart for me."

"Sore loser." I mumbled.

"Brain." He bumped my shoulder, again, and he was lucky that we were literally saturated with relatives. Or I would have molested him right there.

The rest of the ride was spent that way. With Jess ignoring us and Justin and I not caring. Whenever one of us cheered after winning a triple word score or taunted the other for words that didn't exist she got a little more angry. I didn't understand her sometimes. This entire thing was her plan, after all. She should have been ecstatic that it was going so well.

After a ride like that, needless to say, since he wanted to leave my father and Lynn with their alone time, Justin was attached to me at the hip once we arrived back home. He pretended like he was going to close the door on my legs when I was climbing out of the car, he booty bumped me repeatedly as we made our way into the house and he laughed hysterically from behind me when I tripped on the way up the staircase.

"This place is probably like nothing compared to your house. So small." I said, as we made our way down the upstairs hallway.

For a moment I'd been panicked about all the family pictures on the walls but relaxed when I realized they were all baby pictures. He was taking in all of the photos that lined the walls with his hands shoved in his pockets. He was uncomfortable and I couldn't blame him. I understood what a weird feeling it was to walk through the halls of someone else's house for the first time and I wanted nothing more than to make him feel more comfortable until we could get to Tahoe since Jess obviously wasn't going to help me. "It's not small." He said, finding the picture of me as a baby on the wall and tapping it before turning to me with an amused smile. I just rolled my eyes and opened the door to my room. I held it open and he stepped in past me, "It's homey."

He looked like a giant in my room. Ten feet too tall. It wasn't until that moment that I realized it was the first time a boy had ever been in my bedroom. He was the only boy my father would allow in my bedroom, which I found ironic since he was a boy I'd been in love with since I was ten. I guess Daddy figured that hell would freeze over before Justin Timberlake put the moves on his little girl. Daddy, unfortunately, underestimated just how horny his little girl was, and how willing she was to make all of the moves herself. Still, it was bizarre. Not only was there a guy in my room for the first time, but that guy just happened to be Justin fucking Timberlake. I found myself frozen in my doorway for a moment, staring at his back. It was almost too much to bear.

Almost.

I pointed to my bed, "That's the remote in the middle of my bed. You can watch whatever you want. I've got cable." I said, motioning to the bed as I went to grab my suitcase from the closet.

"Cable huh?" Justin's eyebrows wagged as he plopped himself in the middle of my bed and turned on the tv, "You're living the good life, Nic." During the hour long car ride home he had gotten nice and comfortable with teasing the hell out of me. Every little thing I did, no matter how insignificant, he made a complete mockery of. I would have hated it if it was anyone else. I would have hated it, a lot. With Justin, though, I couldn't help but be thrilled, almost shocked, that we were getting along as well as we were, and so soon. Then I remembered the night at his suite in the Venetian, how comfortable I'd felt with him. Even though I was now hiding under a layer or ugly, I was still the same person I had been that night. And so was he. The chemistry we'd experienced had been real, this proved it. This very moment. We'd met only a hour ago and already he was lying on the edge of my bed with his arm tucked under his head, flipping through the channels. It was as if he had been watching tv in my room all his life. He was comfortable, and that made me comfortable. I kind of fucking loved it.

"Sorry, I don't have movie channels. " I called from the closet as I hurled my huge suitcase into my arms. I waddled out, "My Dad canceled them when he caught me watching Red Shoe Diaries." I grunted.

Justin jumped from the bed and took the suitcase from me the moment he saw me struggling. He deposited it onto the middle of my bed and threw it open, "Red Shoe Diaries is the only reason one gets cable. Doesn't he understand that?"

I shook my head, "Dads." I said, as if I were talking about a small, impossible child.

"Don't worry, Nic. Red Shoe Diaries is for rookies. I've got a huge box of porn at my house with your name on it."

I guffawed, "Are you going to write that off on your taxes as a charitable donation?"

"Possibly." Justin nodded, then burst out laughing, shaking his head at me. He touched the side of my head, and I was so in awe that he was, again, touching me, that I didn't see it coming for a second when he flicked his wrist, knocking my head to the side, "Big head." He smiled, then laughed, turning away from me and heading to the other side of my room.

I had to turn away from him when it all became too much. Here I was with Justin Timberlake in my bedroom and we were laughing and joking. Joking! Like we'd been friends for years. He was so easy to talk to that it made it too easy to forget the complicated situation I was in. I needed to be in control and that was difficult in his presence. I couldn't afford to lose my grasp on this situation for even a moment. I began going through my drawers, picking frumpy clothes that I wouldn't usually wear as well as the sexiest clothes I owned. I would need a nice variety. It was going to be a crazy week in Tahoe.

"So tell me about yourself." Justin said from behind me.

I turned and saw his back was to me. He was lingering in front of my cluttered dresser. Fuck. God only knew what was up there. I would have cleaned it off before we left to pick him up but I honestly never imagined when we brought him back that he would come within mile of my bedroom. In fact, I'd imagined us all scrunched up in the living room watching some agreeable sitcom on television, laughing nervously when we knew we were supposed to, but not really interacting. Obviously, I'd been dead wrong. Lynn and Dad had disappeared into the den to do god knows what and Jess was currently giving the entire house the silent treatment. Already I was losing my grasp and that was all it took, just a few stupid assumptions, a couple of small slip-ups and this entire thing would go to shit. God, what else hadn't I thought about? What other surprises were in store? I wasn't sure if I could pull this off.

Unfortunately, Justin was now in my room and taking an unabashed inventory of my personal property. It was a little too late to turn back. He was as quiet as I'd ever heard him while he fiddled with trinkets and took in certain objects, slowly learning about this new girl by the little things she chose to display in her room. As he was observing my stuff I caught sight of a very recent picture of Jess and I just inches away from where he was sniffing my cocoa butter lotion. It was a picture of us in our bathing suits on a trip that we'd actually taken to San Diego. She had on sunglasses and a huge hat but my face was completely bared, smiling straight into the camera, unmistakable. There I was-- there she was. Kiki. Without another second of hesitation I leapt onto my bed, rolled across it and jumped to Justin's side where I slammed the picture down just as his eyes fell on it. He jolted in surprise at my sudden appearance at his side, and I was quietly thanking god that I had such a small room. It wasn't difficult to get from one end to the other.

"What the hell was that?" He chuckled and tried to stand the picture back up. I snatched it away. The way his eyes lit up made it very clear that snatching something from him was as good as dangling a slab of steak under the nose of a hungry lion. "What are you hiding? Huh?" A smile crossed his face, "Naked baby pictures? Naked adult pictures?" He wagged his eyebrows, following me when I began to slowly back away, "Let's see it." He held out his hand. He was so much taller than me and stronger than me and we both knew that if he really wanted that picture frame, he would have that picture frame. I put it behind my back, anyway, and continued to back away from him. He raised an eyebrow, "A girl as clumsy as you are should never walk backwards, Nic. You never know what you just might--"

My back slammed into a wall and I was rendered motionless.

"Hit." Justin finished, coming down on me. Fuck. Nowhere to run. "Show me the picture, please."

I shook my head.

His voice was psychotically patient, "Show me the picture, Nic."

"No. Absolutely not. It's embarrassing."

He leaned one hand on the wall next to my head and bore his eyes into mine, "Why's that?"

"It's uh... it's uh... it's a picture of my boyfriend and I at a Harry Potter convention. We're dressed up. In costumes. We're posing. With toys. We're the oldest people there. It's just... bad."

Justin was staring at me, not responding. Then, suddenly, he asked, "Boyfriend?"

I jammed my eyes shut, "Ex. I meant ex. Ex... boyfriend."

"Just so you know, Nic, I'm not a snitch. You can tell me if you have a boyfriend. I might even be able to help you when you mess shit up because... you know how you women are great at messing shit up." He winked at me.

It was the first time since the moment I'd met him that I wanted to slap him the way I constantly wanted to slap Jess, "I beg your pardon, but I happen to be a fantastic girlfriend! No messiness here."

The look on his face dripped with skepticism. I wondered how many women must have fucked him over for him to be so cynical.

"Ugh!" I tried to push past him, but he was now using his size and strength to his advantage and didn't budge an inch.

"I'm sorry, okay? You don't have to show me the Harry Potter picture." He tilted his head at me and gave me a look that I was sure he'd mastered on the many women he'd been with, or dealt with, in life.

I was thankful that he'd given up on his quest to see the picture behind my back. At that point I wasn't even sure which picture I would be more horrified for him to see, the one of me and Jess or the Harry Potter one. And, yes, there was really a Harry Potter picture, but I would never put it on display in my room. It was safely tucked away in the back of my closet, wrapped up in some dirty socks.

"Harry Potter, huh?" He turned to the other end of the room where my bookshelf sat and back to me, "Looks like you're a hell of a..." His words came to a slow stop, "Reader," And his eyes focused behind me.

Oh god. My Wall of Winnings. How could I have let him into my room without taking down the Wall of Winnings? When he'd first walked in his back had been facing it, so he hadn't seen it up until now. Oh Jesus, why? Anything but the Wall of Winnings. I suddenly wanted to kill my father, the contractor and maintainer of the Wall of Winnings, for ever having built it in the first place. It started off as one stupid award that I'd won in kindergarten, I didn't even remember what it was, but too quickly it had grown into a monster of achievement that took up the entire North side of my bedroom wall. Justin took my shoulder and pushed me slowly to the side, gaping at it. He was gaping.

Every award that I'd ever won from Perfect Attendance in Kindergarden to Biggest Flirt in High School Yearbook. From sports, to grades, to writing contests and everything in between, if I had a plaque, a medal, a ribbon or a Kinkos .40 cent print out it was somewhere on that wall. "Good lord..." Justin whispered, taking in the sight. It really was a bit much. I'd been meaning to take it down for ages now. So embarrassing. He read softly, "First prize, The Little Miss Sweetie Pageant, 1992. Sixth grade Honor Roll. First prize, Cashman Middle School Track and Field. Eighth Grade Honor Roll. First prize, 2004 American High School Dance Finals. Ninth grade Honor Roll, Christ." And that was just the tip of that wall's iceberg. He turned to me, curling his nose, "You're one of those."

I pushed his shoulder lightly, barely aware that I was flirting, "One of what?"

"You know... those. And you're worried about getting into Brown?" He whistled at the wall, then turned to me, "Baby, you've got Brown in the bag."

"Not unless the Asian Invasion rockets himself back to his home planet." I mumbled.

Justin smirked, "The Asian Invasion? What the hell is the Asian Invasion?"

"It's just a nickname that I have for this kid at school named David Lenney. We've been going to school together since we were kids and we're always neck and neck in everything. We both get straight A's, obviously, but that's not it. It's like he's always nipping at my heels. If I join a sports team, he joins a sports team. If I enter a writing contest, he enters the same one. If I scratch my ass, he scratches his own. It's so frustrating. God. My life would be so much easier if he just... fell off a cliff, or something." I snorted, prompting a laugh from Justin, as well.

"You know, Nic, it is true that saying, 'imitation is the highest form of flattery', but imitation is just that-- imitation. By an imitator. Believe me when I say this, because I know a thing or two about the David Lenney's of the world, the imitators are going to come and go, but..."

We were ten minutes in and he was already giving me a big brother speech.

"But the real thing will always shine the brightest..." He stalled, standing very quietly, watching me, then exhaled, "Your eyes are beyond belief, girl."

I wanted to let him know that his eyes were pretty fucking incredible, too, but unfortunately I couldn't breathe.

God, I wanted him naked so bad I could taste it on my teeth. I could only hope that it wasn't completely obvious. The faster we got the Tahoe, the better, because I needed him to look at me not the way he was now-- like a kid, but the way he had in Vegas. Like a woman who he wanted to violate. I needed to be violated.

He took a deep breath and stood tall. Very tall. "Need help packing?" He asked.

I grinned up at him, "It's like you're reading my mind."

--

An hour later Justin and I were making our way out of the house. I had a duffle bag of shoes on my arm and Justin had the rest of my bags, which took up both shoulders, both hands and the bleeding edge of his pointer finger, where my make-up bag was hanging. He'd refused, absolutely refused, to let me help him with some of my bags. He said that it was extremely dangerous for someone as clumsy as myself to be trusted with anything exceeding fifteen to twenty pounds. Who knew how hard I might fall and, even scarier, who I might take down with me.

The sun was just beginning to fall when we made our way out into the driveway where Jess, Daddy and Lynn were already packing all of their things into the BMW. Though Dad and Lynn had gone to Justin's house earlier and brought back his truck so that the kids and the adults could ride in separate cars, Jess insisted that she wanted to be in the BMW to "get to know her future step-mother in law". My father had beamed with glee at her exceptional maturity towards her new step mother, and I had been annoyed at her extreme jealousy. That last time I'd seen Jess this jealous of me was when our mother gave me all of her hand me downs (aka hot jeans that no longer fit her fat ass) and I'd looked incredible in them. Honestly, I was surprised that she hadn't sneaked into my room and burned all of the clothes while I was asleep. As much as it would pain her, I was positive she would rather see her Skinny Girl Jeans dead and gone then see them looking fantastic on anyone's ass but her own. Especially if that ass was mine.

Why couldn't she ever just be happy for me? Why did everything have to be a fucking competition?

"I guess it's just me and you, Nics." Justin nudged me, startling me out of my thoughts. I gazed up at him, squinting against the sun, and smiled. He smiled back and nodded his head, "Common..."

I followed him to the end of the driveway where the biggest truck I'd ever seen was parked. It was black as night, just like Lynn's BMW, but it was a monster. It somewhat resembled a normal sized Jeep, but I couldn't be sure, as I'd never seen anything like it that didn't have a supplier conglomerate's logo printed on the side. The tires were taller than I was. I stopped in my tracks, watching Justin open the trunk and throw all of my bags in.

"You don't trust me to carry a few lousy bags but you trust me to climb into this aberration of a vehicle?"

He slammed the trunk shut, turned to me, and pointed a finger. "That is your first and last free pass. Insult my baby, again, and I will murder you in your sleep, Rocky."

I raised an eyebrow, "Rocky?"

He approached me, grabbed my shirt in his hand and tugged me towards the car. "You know? Like rocket scientist? Only a rocket scientist would use a word like aberration with a straight face."

I couldn't believe my ears as he opened the passenger's side door. I was three hours in and I already had two new nicknames from this man. In my entire life I'd seen boys gives girls at school nicknames and I'd come to learn that it was something they did only with girls they truly, or secretly, adored. Did this mean Justin adored me?

I attempted to appear annoyed, rather than enchanted, "Really, Justin? How exactly does rocket scientist translate into Rocky?"

"You're a smart girl, Rocks." He touched my ass, prompting me to scream out loud because, hi, Justin Timberlake was touching my ass, and pushed me up into the passenger's seat. Once I was in I turned to him and glared down, way down, at him. He winked in return, "I'm sure you'll figure it out." The door closed in my face and before I knew it Justin was in the driver's seat, starting up his aberration and following Lynn, Dad and Jess onto the highway.

You know that feeling you get when you're in an uncomfortable silence with someone that you don't know? How it can make you nervous, give you the feeling that you're the most boring person in the world and, all in all, make you want to kill yourself just so you didn't have to deal with it for another second? Justin and I didn't have that. Not at all. We'd been in his aberration, driving for nearly three hours, alone-- all alone-- and the silences fell between us very often. I always waited for the weird feeling that would inevitably come, as the music became the only noise filling the vehicle, but it never did. I honestly couldn't remember ever having that with another human being outside of Jess and my parents. I made me feel connected to him.

I was dark out now, but neither of us was tired. We were both excited for Tahoe, for two very different reasons, of course. As we quietly drove I wondered how I was going to run into Justin as myself, as "KiKi". What was I going to say to him? What was I going to do? If he wanted to pick up where we left off in Vegas where would we do it? Obviously we couldn't go back to the cabin. What if he asked to go back to my cabin? Something that I didn't have? What if he was already over that one girl who he met in Vegas? What if he didn't recognize me, at all? Oh god, I missed Jess. Why was she being such an asshole?

Justin turned the volume knob on the radio and threw me a look, "You should listen to this song." He said, his voice exponentially softer than it was on solid ground, "It's a really good song." Then he went back to driving like he hadn't said anything, at all.

And, yeah, it was a really good song. A song that I would never hear the same way, again.

"What are you thinking about?" He asked, breaking the calm hush. My head snapped to his, surprised at the unexpected question.

He was staring out into the road, watching the street, and if I hadn't heard him the first time I wouldn't have been able to tell that he'd asked a question, at all. "Jess." I answered, which was actually the truth.

He smiled at the name, then chuckled, throwing me a look, "That girl is not liking me too much, is she?"

"I bet you're not used to that, are you? A being of the opposite sex responding to you in a way that doesn't involve screaming, crying, professing their love, not saying a word out of sheer fright or all of the above? Jess must be like the Holy Grail to you."

"Nah," Justin shook his head. "My fans haven't been nuts like that for a while. They were teenagers when I started, which explains the crying and the profession of love, as you so beautifully put it." He threw me a look, "But they've grown up with me, they're much more mature now. There's a difference, though, between a person who's afraid to talk to me and a person who doesn't want to talk to me. There's a difference and I can tell. I can see it, I can smell it, I know it. Jess doesn't want to talk to me... for some reason." He eyes widened, then he turned to me. He was looking for answers, and to me he looked, waiting for just that.

I shrugged my shoulders, then let them fall, "Jess is..." I didn't even know how to answer. Honestly, I was surprised at how much this was obviously bothering him. From the way he'd been behaving since we'd met you'd have thought that he'd barely acknowledged Jess' existence, let alone be bothered by her blatant bad attitude. "Jess is Jess." I finished, "You'll get to know her."

"You say that like it's a death sentence."

I held my hands up, feigning innocence, "You said it, not me."

"Tell me a story about her." He said, gripping the steering wheel with one hand and resting his head in the other, "Tell me something to make me understand."

He wanted a story about Jess? Oh, man, did I have a story about Jess. I could write a fucking book on Jess. "Okay." I sat up, straighter, "Here's a story for you, Timberlake."

I told him twenty. Probably more. By the time I was done telling stories about Jess' ass, he had tears in his eyes and I was vaguely worried for our safety. Anyone laughing as hard as he was laughing couldn't have been paying adequate attention to the road, "So she actually pretended to fall into the lake?"

"And pretended to drown." I nodded, vigorously.

"Just because Vince wouldn't buy her the Bashful--"

"Bubbling, Blushing, Baking Go Pink Barbie. It was a special edition, Justin. Every other girl in school was going to have one. How could she show her face in kindergarden the next day? How?!"

He sputtered, "So, obviously, pretending to drown herself-- on Christmas Day-- seemed like an adequate punishment."

"She had to make Daddy understand." I reasoned in a flight attendant tone of voice.

"And did Daddy understand?"

I raised my eyebrows, "He understood that she wasn't leaving her room for the rest of Christmas break, yeah." I nodded, then laughed along with him for several minutes. Then the silence fell between us, again, and again, it wasn't weird. I kind of loved him. "And, that's Jess, in a nutshell."

"She sounds like a barrel of laughs."

"You have no idea." I said, shaking my head.

"We're almost there." Justin said, surprising me. We had been driving for hours. I had noticed the subtle changes in scenery for the first thirty minutes or so but after that I had barely been paying attention. He pointed out of my window, "You see that mountain, right there? The one that looks like a titty?"

I searched the millions of mountains ahead of us and found the one he was pointing at, in the very back, the tallest mountain of them all with an extremely smooth surface and a mess of trees at the very top. It really did look like a woman's breast. I had to laugh, "I see it." I answered.

"That's us. That's our cabin." Justin said, before going back to the wheel, "I think you're going to love it, Nic. Rocky." He corrected himself, giving me a look.

I rolled my eyes, "I'm not exactly a nature type girl. You'll never catch me on a pair of skis in the snow-- not purposely, anyway. I can't fish and, even if I could, I hate being in huge bodies of water for extended periods of time. I hate all animals that aren't house broken and clean air is an extravagance that I am not accustomed to. In fact, I think I'm allergic to it."

"I'll teach you how to fish, I'll take you out kayaking, we'll go sightseeing and, I promise you, by the time we're back in LA you'll be choking on all the toxic fumes."

I stared at him, but couldn't respond. I loved Justin Timberlake, really I did, but Tahoe was just about my worst nightmare realized. The only thing that was going to make it better was the fact that I'd be fucking him while we were there. A smile spread over my face at the very thought, "Well, obviously we're not going to be spending every second together."

"Yes, every second." Justin confirmed, "The whole point of this trip is for all of us to be together... get to know each other... like a family. We are going to be a family. Kin."

"But not real kin. Not blood."

"Blood is just liquid. It doesn't count for shit."

"Do you really believe that?" I asked, shocked at the words he was saying. Honestly, I was horny, I was horny for him. I couldn't wait to relate to Justin, but not in the sense that he was getting at.

"I do. You're my sister, now. Honestly I..." Whatever he was about to say, he stopped himself, and I was struck extremely curious, "I've always wanted a sister." He said, instead. "I want to spend every second of this trip with all of you."

I didn't respond, couldn't. If I actually accepted Justin as a brother then what I was planning to do would skyrocket into criminal, instead of just very wrong. And when I fucked him I needed to fuck him without guilt or conviction. "How are we going to spend ever second together? I know that, as a man, your attention span only extends so far. There are going to be a lot of hot girls in Tahoe."

"There are a lot of hot girls everywhere. This is more important."

"But--"

"You know, Rocks, we're only a day in and, already, I feel like you're trying to get rid of me. Am I already the annoying big brother to you?"

I couldn't believe my ears. 'Get rid of' and 'annoying' were two phrases that I would never use in the same sentence as him. "Of course not." I whispered, meaning it. "The second I met you in the airport and every minute after that... I can't remember the last time I've had so much fun. I can't remember ever laughing as much as I do with you. Justin, I can't wait to have you as a brother." To my complete horror, I realized that I actually meant these words. He would be a good brother, hell, if today was any indication, he would be an amazing brother. I'd been trying to repress that fact for so long because it wasn't something I was ready to accept, but it was still a fact.

"Likewise, Rocks. Nic. Big head." He reached over and knocked my head to the side, "And, don't worry. To steal a quote right out of Jerry Maguire, you had me at hello. Actually, you had me at 'melanin'."

Justin Timberlake just told me that I had him at hello. I had Justin Timberlake at hello.

As his kid sister.

Kill me, please.

--

In the interest of doing some serious damage control, I got "sick" during the last few hours of the drive to Tahoe. First it started out as a "headache", which prompted Justin to pop out a bottle of aspirin from his glove compartment. It quickly escalated into a "cough", which prompted him to reach over and gently pat my back every time it happened. By the time we made it to the cabin, it was a full on "cold", coughing, sniffling, the whole nine. This was my genius plan. As long as I was sick, Justin wouldn't feel obligated to spend every second with the family. Lynn and Daddy were going to be on their own for a majority of the trip doing... I don't even want to know what, Justin wasn't comfortable enough to be alone with Jess, yet, and me, well I was "sick". What else could he possibly do but leave the cabin to go out and do fun things on his own?

Fun things... with me. The real me. KiKi.

Speaking of the cabin, it wasn't what I was expecting, at all. Being the filthy rich superstar he was I would have expected Justin's cabin in Tahoe to be more like a lodge that could house thirty to forty people, but when I climbed out of the aberration, I was pleasantly surprised.

I jumped, or rather "fell" out of the truck with Justin's aid, gaping up at the modest sized, secluded little cabin with amazing mountain views and wall to wall windows that shone out on us and lit up the night.

"I love it!" I beamed, gripping Justin, who was holding me against him.

"It's so cute, isn't it?" Lynn asked, coming up beside me and rubbing my back. Just seeing this cabin, how reasonable it was, made me love them so much. They obviously weren't the kind of people who spent money just to spend it. If they didn't need something, they didn't buy it. The end. "It only has three bedrooms, though, so you and Jess will have to share." Lynn said, apologetically.

"Aw, Lynn, that's okay." I looked to Jess, who was standing beside Daddy. She didn't seem too thrilled. "Jess and I shared a room in middle school, I'm sure we'll manage."

"Speaking of rooms." Justin said, "I'm going to take Nic inside. She got really sick on the ride up."

"Oh no!" Lynn's eyes went as wide as a cartoon character's and she ran her hand down the side of my head, "Oh, sweetie, yeah you should definitely get some sleep. Hopefully you'll be better by tomorrow. Baby," She looked at Justin, "There's that huge cabinet full of medicine in the kitchen. Next to the fridge."

"I bought and decorated this house, Mom. I think I know where the medicine cabinet, is." Justin, laughed, then kissed her cheek to soften his smart-ass words.

The inside of the cabin was even better than the outside. The ceilings were vaulted and it was so well decorated. All of the furniture was modern and cozy. On the way into mine and Jess' room I saw a stone fireplace, a huge wrap around deck with a jacuzzi, a game room and a kitchen that was to die for. Even Emeril would be envious. Every room had a flat screen tv, every room had a view. It was going to be hard to leave this place, I already knew. Unfortunately, I couldn't take as in-depth a tour of the cabin as I might of liked. Justin was adamant that I get into one of the two full beds in mine and Jess' room. Before I knew it I was stuffed to the hilt with antibiotics that I didn't need, a blanket up to my chin that was making me sweat and a cartoon I didn't recognize on the huge flat-screen tv.

He was fussing over me so much that I had to pretend to fall asleep just to get him out of my hair. Not that I wanted him out of my hair. It was just that, the sooner he was out of my hair, the sooner I could get this plan underway. Nothing, at this point, was more important than that.

I didn't even realize that I actually had dozed off until I was being shaken awake by, you guessed it, my lovely sister. I looked up into Jess' face with tired eyes, not sure if I wanted to kill her or hug her. I hated to admit it, but I was so overwhelmed with all of this, and I knew I would never get through it without her help. I just wasn't sure if she wanted to help. I wasn't sure if she was willing to get past her jealously. I sat up, rubbed the sleep out of my eyes and looked around before locking eyes with her.

She was just a gorgeous as ever, with a make-up free face and cotton pjs. Her hands were on her hips, "You looked so peaceful in your sleep, dear sister, but I just thought you might be interested to know that Justin Timberlake has just left this cabin, which means that you're supposed to be two steps behind him, fool! Get up!"

Oh my god! Oh my fucking god! This was it. This was it. I jumped out of bed and, with the speed of light, the blonde wig and glasses were off of my face. Jess followed me as I raced into the bathroom and helped me into a pair of jeans, heels and a cute top as I put my brown contact in, making both of my eyes match. As I looked in the mirror while Jess combed out my hair, I found myself not as thrilled with having two brown eyes as I might have been a few hours ago. Justin had complimented me on my natural eyes so much, I'd actually caught him staring at them in awe more than a few times, that I was sure I would never hate them as much as I once had.

Yes, I was a pathetic woman.

Once I was back to my normal self, Jess pulled me out of the room and made sure the coast was clear in the great room of the cabin. It was. Lord only knew what unholy things our father was up to with his future wife. Jess pulled me after her towards the front door, thew it open and pointed, "He went that way." She stared at me, "Hoe. Don't ever say I never did anything for you."

"I love you, Jess." I said it. And it meant it, too.

"Yeah, yeah. There's no time. Go! Go get laid." She literally shoved me through the threshold and I could almost see her rolling her eyes when I tripped, quickly recovering, turning to her with a sheepish wave. Then I was gone. Running as quickly as I could. The feel of the cool night's wind in my hair was amazing after sweating under a wig for hours and hours. After years of lusting after that thing, I couldn't wait until the day that I was rid of it!

It didn't take long for me to catch up with Justin. He had on jeans and a light jacket with a hat pulled low on his head. From behind I could see that his hands were shoved deep in his pockets and his shoulders were hunched. He was trying to appear inconspicuous. I wondered, as I followed him, where he was going. He wasn't in a hurry, his stride was calm, but sure. Looking at the large sign just ahead of him, it appeared that he could be heading to one of three places. The Smokey Mountain National Park, the golf course, or Debby's Coffee Shop. In the heels I was wearing, I prayed that he was on his way to the coffee shop.

Thank god he was. Debby's was slightly full and extremely warm with a distinct mountain feel. The aroma that filled my senses the moment I stepped in make me weak in the knees. A cup of coffee would be heaven, heaven right now. Apparently Justin agreed with me, because he was standing at the end of a fairly long line, patiently. I stood at a magazine rack near the exit and pretended to be flipping through one, keeping my eyes on him. I was hoping that he would look up and see me, but that didn't happen. He had yet to be recognized and was not making eye contact with anyone. I doubted that he would.

I would have to approach him myself.

Jesus, I swear to you, if I wasn't as hot for this man as I was...

I waited for him to order and pick up his drink. I took a deep breath, willing myself to be courageous, and made my way across the shop, putting on my best surprised face as I approached him at the pick-up counter. No one looked at us, thankfully, when I touched his shoulder, "Oh my god, Justin?" I beamed. I went a little over the top when I placed one hand over my heart. He turned to me, looking down at my hand on his shoulder, first, then up at me. He clearly thought I was a fan of some sort. When he looked at me, he took a very long moment of hesitation. Too long. Then, just as I was completely kicking myself for being stupid enough to think that he'd actually remember me, his entire face face fell.

"Holy shit." He whispered, tilting his head, "KiKi?" A slow smile grew on his face and I could have died right there, but I wouldn't die, not yet. Not until I, at least, got a chance to fuck his brains out. Justin shook his head in shock and opened his arms, which I immediately jumped into with way too much vigor. He moaned as we embraced and I felt him turn his head into my hair and breathe deep, "What are you doing here?" I was surprised when the hug went on past the polite two seconds, but disappointed when he pulled away, "Holy shit." He said, again. Then he was staring at me. Just staring. At that moment, I really did feel sick. How could he be so close to me and not see the girl he'd just spent hours upon hours laughing with in his truck?

Out of nervousness, I began to talk, hoping it would break his concentration, "I've got to be honest, Justin, I didn't think I would ever see you again. At first I though I was crazy. I'm all, there's no way this man is standing line at Debby's right now. Wow." I breathed.

"What are you doing here?" We both asked, at once, then laughed. I was thrilled. So thrilled that you would actually believe that this was my first time seeing him since our almost one night stand in Vegas. It was so strange, how at ease we were with each other, even when we'd first met, even when I was a completely different person to him there was an ease.

He watched me intently as he spoke, "I'm actually here with my family, we've got a cabin right outsie of Gatlinburg. My sister isn't feeling well so I was down here getting her hot chocolate."

My entire heart melted. It actually stopped beating, took on a liquid form, and. Fucking. Melted. "Oh my god, Justin, that is so sweet. Thank you!" Fuck. Why are you thanking him, idiot? "I mean, that's very sweet, I didn't even know you had a sister."

"Well, I didn't... but as of yesterday, I do." He laughed. Not once did he mention the fact that I wasn't even legally his sister, yet, and even when I was, it wouldn't be by blood. He was very loyal, and my heart snatched with a twinge of guilt at that moment. Only, however, at that moment. Then my eyes were back on the prize. The way he was looking at me... Lord have mercy. "My mother is engaged to Nic's father and we actually just met tonight, but... she's a cool kid. An amazing kid." His took a deep breath, "And then there's Jess..." He left it at that.

"Wow." I said. It was a strange feeling of being torn in two right then. On one hand, I was a little hurt that he'd just referred to me as a kid--twice, but on the other hand, the way he was looking at me now, it was clear that the word "kid" was the very last thing running through his mind, "Sounds like one hell of a situation."

"Yeah, it is. God, I can't believe you're actually-- what are you doing here?" He laughed while motioning to me.

I thought up a quick lie, "I work at the bookstore up the street, but I'm addicted to Debby's coffee. I'm here all the time. Maybe you and I could have a cup on day." I said the word cup with more suggestion than anyone ever should. I couldn't help myself. Having him so close, looking at me like that, smelling as good as he was, I honestly could have fucked him right there in front of everyone.

"Why don't we have a cup right now?" His eyes were saturated with desire, and so was his voice, then he looked down at the cup in his hand, "Damn, I forgot about Nic."

There it was, that stupid feeling offense, again.

He reached out and took the sleeve of my shirt between his fingers, and it was strange how it felt new all over again. As if it were the first time he'd ever put his hands on me. When I felt his skin touch mine I was honestly beside myself, "Why don't you come with me real quick while I drop this off? Then you and I can..." He bit his bottom lip and didn't finish. My eyes were glued to that bottom lip and when it popped out of his mouth, wet and glistening, I almost said yes. Almost. Then I realized that it would be impossible for me to go with Justin to drop the coffee off to his sister because I was his sister. Man it would be great to be a superhero right now, with the power to be in two places at once.

"Why don't I wait for you here, instead?"

Justin was clearly surprised, then displeased, "You'll be here when I get back?" He tugged on my sleeve.

I nodded, biting my bottom lip as well, "I'll be here. We've got a lot of lost time to make up for."

He was staring at my lips as he spoke, "Yes, we do." His eyes rose to mine and he took a deep, heaving breath, while widening his eyes in mine, "I'll be right back."

"Kay." I said, in the idiotic voice that seemed to be reserved just for him.

"Don't go anywhere." He pointed to me as he backed up towards the doorway.

"Kay." I breathed.

"Okay." He gave me one last, dazzling smile, before turning and walking out the door.

I stood in a silent, amazed stupor and waited for him to be completely out of my sight. Then I took off running. I had to make it back to the cabin before he did!

--

I took a shortcut back to the cabin and, luckily, it worked instead of getting me dangerously lost. In record time I was back in my frump clothes, the contact was out, wig and glasses were back on. I hurried out into the living room just in time to see Justin putting the cup of hot chocolate in the microwave. God he was so fine and so sweet for doing this. Every ten seconds he would stop the microwave and check the temperature of the drink to make sure it wasn't too hot or too cold. When it was done he poured it into a large mug and began searching through the cabinets until he found what he was looking for. Marshmallows. He deposited them on top of the steaming liquid. Clearly, he was moving as quickly as he could, but there was still a certain amount of care he applied to everything.

I made my way into the kitchen, unable to keep the smile off of my face, "Hey." I said, coming up next to him and leaning against the counter, "What's that?"

He finished off the marshmallows and kissed the tips of his fingers, "For you!" He held the steaming cup out to me.

My eyes lit up, "For me?"

He nodded, "I wanted to help you feel better so I made you some hot chocolate from scratch."

Oh my god! Justin Timberlake had just told a bold face fucking lie right to my face. I almost burned my tongue after he said those words and I looked up at him, struggling not to laugh . "Really?" I asked. My eyes narrowed to the trash can where the cup from Debby's was sitting at the very top, label up. Justin's gaze followed mine and he kicked the can out of our sight promptly, before turning back to me with an innocent smile. I leisurely sipped my hot chocolate, watching him, "Homemade, huh?" I raised my eyebrows, "You really are a compulsive liar aren't you?"

"Absolutely not." He shook his head furiously, smiled, then leaned down until he nose was nearly touching my cheek. He kissed it, making my entire body stop, "Feel better, Rocks." To my immense disappointment, he began making his way towards the door.

"Even if you are a compulsive liar, you're a great soon-to-be step-brother, you know that?" I called after him as he hurried towards the door, throwing his jacket on in the process. "Where are you in such a rush to? Hot date?"

That stopped him at the door. He opened it and turned to me, "Nic, you have no idea."

Actually, Justin, I do. "Must be a pretty cute girl. Gonna fuck her?" I asked, casually.

He threw his head back and laughed heartily while opening the door, "I'll tell you all about it later." He stuck his tongue out at me with a devilish expression and stepped out of the door.

"A superstar of your caliber should never be this eager for pussy!" I screamed. The door slammed closed without a response and I had no idea why that bothered me so much. After all, I was the girl he as in such a hurry to get to, so why did I feel abandoned? I turned and hurried out of the kitchen, ripping my wig off in the process. My hair fell in soft waves around my shoulders and I almost screamed in horror when I turned the corner to my room and found Jess standing quietly in the doorway, arms crossed.

A smile spread over my face, "Right now your baby sister is running a 99.9% chance of boning Justin Timberlake within the next hour." I was practically salivating.

Jess smirked, "Sounds like some pretty good odds, sis."

"I know, but I have to hurry and get cleaned up so I can run back to the coffee shop where he's meeting me." I paused when she didn't move, "So, if you could, like... get the fuck out of the way? That would be great." Jess stepped out of the doorway without another word and I didn't have time to grill her about why she was behaving like such an asshole so I swept past her without another word.

--

Thanks to the same shortcut, ten minutes later, I was sitting in a cozy booth at the farthest corner of the coffee shop waiting, not so patiently, for Justin. From the way he'd raced out of the cabin I was positive that he would be there, any minute. This fact did not calm my racing heart.

He stepped into the shop with a swagger so smooth I would have never guessed that he'd just finished running out of the house the way he had. He caught my eyes from the doorway and I knew, right then, just by the way he looked at me, that we were absolutely going to be having sex before the night was out. he hurried over, sweeping the jacket off of his shoulders as he approached. When he leaned down and brushed his lips to my cheek there was a strong sense of de-ja-vu that washed over me, then a moment of thick, powerful silence. A hesitation. He took his lips from my cheek and placed them next to my ear. "I want you."

"Now?" I whispered, leaning into him, barely resisting the urge to lick his neck and see if he tasted as good as he smelled.

He pulled away just an inch, we were nose to nose, and raised his eyebrows, "Right now."

"Where?" I gasped, my voice ripe with the unmistakable twinge of desire.

His voice was nearly gone, breathing ragged, "Anywhere." He took my hand from where it was resting on the table and pulled me out of my seat, coffee forgotten.

"Kay." I whispered, ever idiotically.

He pulled me after him and I had no idea, none at all, where he was taking me. The only thing I was absolutely sure of was that, wherever we were going, there was going to be some very hungry, very desperate, very over-due sex involved.

And who was I to question a superstar?

We got as far as the side of Debby's Coffee Shop, then Justin was pressing me up against the side of the building, coming down on me, quickly, our bodies welding together fast and desperate. There were too many clothes to be shed, there always would be when he was this close.

"I have thought about you..." His hands slid down my arms and around my waist where he cupped my ass and pulled me, hard, into him. Feeling him solid against my thigh was too much, and when his hands came up, sliding beneath my top and tentatively fingering my stomach, his skin was like fire against mine. Every bone in my body rolled with chills, then warmed up to his wandering hands. He leaned in close, his breath mere inches from mine, taking my jaw in one hand and reaching farther up my shirt with the other. He lifted my chin and licked the glistening patch on my neck, moaning against my skin. I could feel his breath, uneven and ragged when he pressed his lips against my neck with fervor, working his way up to my ear, my cheeks, then he lingered. Right at my lips. I needed him to kiss me so bad I could taste it. "Every fucking minute." He whispered, "I have thought about you." A slow smile spread on his face, "And I don't know why."

Any other woman would be offended at his being so baffled at the thought of her, but I wasn't. Blinded, I was. By the heat in his eyes, the heat of his fingers, the heat in his pants. I wrapped one arm around his neck, smiling back, but maintained just that whisper of distance that kept our lips apart. This was a man that I'd just spent several hours in a car with that felt like thirty minutes. This was a man that had seen me, then my sister, and had picked me-- both times. This was a man that I was quickly developing feelings, real feelings, for, and it hadn't hit me until that moment. Walking away from him was something that was not going to be easy to do but it was something that was inevitable. What if I fucked him right now and got attached? Even worse, what if I fucked him right now and he got attached? I hadn't taken into consideration the possibility that he could have any feelings in this because before this moment he had been nothing but a man I'd concocted in my own personal fantasies. A face and body and a status that I took a molded into my own perfect person. Now here he was, a real man, with real man emotions, and the sudden weight of responsibility that was presenting itself to me was frightening.

But it did nothing to eliminate my arousal. I was seventeen and horny. A bulldozer wouldn't be enough to eliminate my arousal.

I smiled softly while reaching into his front pocket. He sucked in a deep breath and my hand brushed against his cock, pressing against he zipper of his jeans, anxious for release. The first touch had been an accident, but the second, which could only be described as a squeeze, certainly was not. "What you got in there?" I whispered, brushing the tip of my nose against his.

His eyes lit up, "Something for you."

"Oh yeah?"

He nodded, biting his bottom lip. He wasn't being overly aggressive, indicating that, for the time being, he was willing to let me run this whole show. From the look in his eyes, though, it was clear that it was only for the time being.

I shuffled around in his pocket a little more, then pulled my hand out. He frowned unconsciously, clearly upset that the contact had ended so abruptly. I held up his cell phone, which had been the whole reason I'd gone in his pocket to begin with. When he leaned into the kiss me I flipped it open, creating a Motorola shield between both our lips.

"For next time?" I explained to the perplexed expression on his face. I keyed in my phone number and, to my complete shock, actually typed the name 'Nic'. I erased that, promptly, and thank god I did, because, just as I programmed the correct name and number, he'd taken the phone back into his own hands.

His face was playful and seductive all at once, "Didn't your mother ever teach you that it isn't polite to snatch?"

"My mother always taught me to take what I wanted without hesitation or apology." I undid the button of his jeans and his hard dick took care of the zipper. I slipped my hands into the opening and twirled my hand to clutch him, "Do you have a problem with that?" I asked, gently.

His eyes had fluttered shut, and his lips were parted and trembling. Clearly, there was some sort of human response dancing on the edge of those lips, which I'd yet to kiss, but he couldn't quite manage to get it out.

I couldn't believe I had him in my hand, touching him, stroking him. Never in my wildest dreams did I believe anything even remotely close to this would ever happen. Yet, here I was and here he was, hard and ready. To think that I elicited this, that I was the reason he was in this state... Jesus, I knew I could go all night on that thought alone. "You like that?" I asked, releasing him from his boxers and taking him into a firmer grip.

"Fuck yeah." He placed his hands on either side of the wall, one next to my head and the other next to my waist, thrusting into my fisted fingers.

I released him for a moment and wet the palm of my hand, before taking him, again, finding a rhythm, quick, then slow. He buried his mouth in my neck, which stifled his groan, and submerged his fingers in my hair, "Fuck, KiKi, just like that..."

Okay, this was fun. Fun, fun, fun. I almost laughed out loud in pure delight, that's how fun this was. In fact, I was forced to lean into him and put my on lips into his neck to quiet myself down, never losing my pace, of course.

Then there they were. Walking down the same hillside that I'd followed Justin down earlier that night were Lynn and my father, arm in arm. My father never wore the color orange, he detested it, and that was probably why I hadn't recognized him on first glance. After a moment, however, of taking in his delicate features, carmel skin and, of course, the curly headed woman on his arm with a youthful stride and permanent smile on her face, I gasped in shock. Lynn and my father were less that a hundred feet away and were closing in on us... fast.

Fuck. No. Fuck, talking about timing. My father turned his head toward me, and I gasped in shock, then exhaled when he looked back to Lynn, having not seen me, at all. Still, they were too close and if they saw me and Justin together they would completely blow my cover. I had to get the fuck out of there. "Shit." The unfairness of it all! I actually whimpered.

Justin didn't seem to notice, he was probably assuming the gasp was due to his lips which, at the moment, were assaulting my neck. He pulled away, breathing heavily and cupped my face in his hands, "Why'd you stop?"

I hadn't even realized that my hand, which had been all too eagerly petting him, was now at a complete stunned standstill in thin air. His heat stood at complete attention without either of our assistance, wet and glistening. Oh god, I thought of all the different ways I could ride that thing, I wondered how it felt, what it tasted like. It probably tasted sweet-- fuck, I couldn't think about that!

Justin leaned in to kiss me, but I pulled away. I had only a moment to take in his confused and wounded expression because within two seconds I was gone.

Running. I was running in the complete opposite direction of my father and Lynn, praying that I got away before either of them saw me and that Justin managed to compose himself before either of them saw.... uh, him.

--

"That's what you get for trying to get you swirl on in a public fucking area. Hoe."

Jess had an electric toothbrush shoved deep into her mouth, so the only words I processed were "swirl", "hoe" and "fuck". Man, I was horny. "Man, Jess, I'm horny." I shook my head and met her amused eyes in the mirror.

She laughed out loud, causing foamy white toothpaste to leap from the private confines of her mouth where they belonged, and out onto her chin and the bathroom counter. It was fucking repulsive. She, however, was too busy laughing to realize that she was not cute at the moment. This was how the last fifteen minutes had been since I'd arrived back at the house and told her what happened. Me being near tears because I was a girl who was horny with a father that was perpetually destroying any chance of my having good sex, and Jess... laughing hysterically. She was now almost completely collapsed against the side of the bathroom counter, about to fall off, holding her stomach in pain. She was in pain. That was how funny she found all of this.

"I'm thrilled that my life is so fucking amusing to you, Jess." She laughed harder. "You know what? Fuck you." I kicked her in the ass with my bare foot and stomped out of the bathroom, completely aware of her laughter increasing with every passing second. I had no idea why I tried to talk to her about some things. Once I left our room, entirely, and was out in the great room, it was like a breath of fresh air. It was as if the sound of Jess' cackling had put a momentary intermission on my brain function, but now, in the quiet, it was slowly creeping back to me. This was just one night. We were going to be in Tahoe for the rest of the week! I had plenty of time to fix all of this and get my swirl on with Justin. Next time, I just had to make sure we got down to it in a much more private place. A place with windows and locks. Yes. Windows and locks were good.

The sound of the front door slamming shocked me so deeply that I jumped to my toes, screamed out loud, and managed to scare myself so badly that I covered my mouth with both hands, gazing towards the door with circular eyes. "Fuck!" I screamed.

Justin stood in front of the slammed door and, man, the look on his face... I wasn't sure that there actually would be a next time by the look on his face.

He swept off his jacket, stared at me, then turned to the door and threw it, hard. He must have had something solid, probably expensive, in his pocket, because I was fairly sure that I heard a crack before it fell into a heap at the floor. Whatever it was, it obviously wasn't something he cared enough about, because he turned back to me, lips in a straight line and eyes hard, "I'm pissed and I need to work it off."

I wondered if he was asking me for a suggestion. I hoped not, because I had nothing that didn't involve me being naked, him being naked, or all of the above. "What do you propose?" I croaked.

Cooking. Twenty minutes later, we were cooking. This, apparently, was what Justin did to calm himself down when he was upset. And I'm not talking about the bullshit cooking that people like me do when we're starving and Pizza Hut isn't open. I'm not talking about Cup-A-Noodles, Lean Cuisines or grilled cheese sandwiches. In fact, if it's a meal that can be prepared in a microwave in under five minutes, it did not apply. Justin decided that he was going to cook enough gumbo for the entire family, which I found ludicrous because, hello, no normal person has all the ingredients necessary to make gumbo on hand.

Justin Timberlake, however, is not a normal person.

"Make sure the sausages are cooked all the way through, but don't burn them." He coached me, calmly, giving me meaningless little tasks but making it seem like I'd ended world hunger every time I completed one. "That's fantastic, Nic. Now set the peppers aside and start on the okra, it's very important that you don't slice them too thin, all right? I'm trusting you." I had to smirk. He was a little ridiculous. Soon, after we both had our supplies and tasks, we were working quietly but efficiently in the kitchen. Going around each other for extra things we needed, passing each other utensils that we somehow knew the other was looking for. Every once in a while we would both look up from the stove at the same time, meet eyes and smile.

I was always the first to look away. The poor fool had no idea how close he was to being molested on the spot.

Finally, after several dozen minutes of complete silence, I had to ask, "So you left the cabin and hour ago excited and you came back pissed off. Apparently, pissed off enough to inspire a round of gumbo for the whole cabin." I took my finger in my mouth, tasting the succulent juices, and looked up at him innocently, "Wanna talk about it?"

His eyes were riveted to my finger when I pulled it from between my lips, then he rose his eyes to mine, "Don't touch anything with that finger until you wash your hands."

I held up the finger, lingering in front of his face, then tapped his nose, lightly.

"Cute." He smirked, watching me walk to the sink and wash my hands, "I just don't understand you women, Rocks. I just don't understand you."

I came back next to him and continuing cooking the sausages, "What's not to understand? We're hot, we smell good, we're always right... seems pretty simple to me." I shrugged, then got serious, "Justin, I'm your future sister. I'm not a prude, you can talk to me about these kinds of things. You have to get it off your chest one way or another."

He frowned in hesitation, then tilted his head away from me as if he'd smelled something foul, "You're just a kid..."

That hit me harder than I imagined it would. I stared up at him, waiting for him to take that back, or at least apologize for being so god damn condescending, but nothing came. Bastard. I began to chop the onions with extreme and obvious vigor. I was angered by his words and I wasn't afraid for him to know it. As the minutes ticked silently by, I wondered if he was the stubborn type. The type that wouldn't apologize for anything regardless of how wrong he was. A kid. A kid. I'm just a kid. That one sentence had broken my heart right in two. That one sentence had just completely justified everything that I'd done up until that point. If I wanted Justin he could never know who I really was, because he already had his mind made up about who I really was just because I was a few years younger. It was enough to make a girl homicidal! I was homicidal, towards the okra and onions, anyway.

His voice suddenly filling the suffocatingly silent air startled me, "She was touching me..." He threw me a look, weighing my expression, clearly trying to decide whether or not I could handle this. I bit back the urge to ask him why he didn't just give me a fucking bib and a pacifier?! He licked his lips and stared intently into the large pot that was quickly growing with ingredients, "She was jacking me off on the side of Debby's Coffee and then she ran away. She just... ran..." He gazed off into space for a long moment, then looked down at me.

I couldn't respond only because I was shocked that he'd told me the truth. The actual truth. If he honestly looked at me like a child he would have never told me what he just told me. Right? I didn't know what to say, so I repeated him, "She just... ran?"

"She ran. Ran away." He nodded once, then shook his head.

"Well..." I tried to imagine how a normal person would respond to hearing something like that, and realized that Jess hadn't been so wrong for laughing as hard as she had. It was kind of funny. For a quick second I wondered where Jess was. She had to be smelling all the delicious smells wafting out of the kitchen by now so why hadn't she come out?

"Why would a woman do that?"

I watched Justin, closely. I wanted to answer him honestly, but I couldn't. So I said what I really believed, without including the whole truth, "Well, Justin, I'm sure that if a woman ran away from you and your penis... she probably had a damn good reason for doing so."

He dropped the wooden spoon into the pot, wiped his hands on a towel and threw it over his shoulder while coming to face me completely, "Like what?"

"Like..." I had no idea.

"Please, Nic, don't be shy, because I'm seriously at a loss. This is the second time that this woman has run out on me in two days and I... please. If you have any inkling... any theories, I'll take them with open arms."

"Well..."

"Don't be shy!"

"Um..."

"Any... theory... will do."

Okay, I was officially trying not to laugh, "Maybe she got her period and was embarrassed? Maybe your dick is so huge that she got scared? Maybe there was someone walking up behind you guys and she freaked out?" I bit my lip to shut myself up.

A wave of realization washed over his face, then doubt, then realization, again. "Fuck. You know what? My mom. I saw my mom and Vince walking into the coffee shop like five minutes later."

"Did they see your dick?"

"No. I put that away while I was chasing after KiKi."

"Is that her name?"

His eyes took on a glaze that made my entire body chill, "Yeah. God, that's it." He whispered. To my complete surprise, he leaned down and wrapped his arms around me, pulling my body to his. When he stood tall, he took me with him, bringing me up to my toes. After recovering from the initial surprise I wrapped my arms around his neck and hugged back. Hey, I had no idea why he was doing this but, shit, when Justin Timberlake hugs you, you don't ask questions. You hug back and pray that it never ends. He moaned, softly, "Thank you, Nic." He pulled away, but held onto my arms, "She used to be a fan so she probably knows what my mom looks like. I bet she saw her and was embarrassed."

"Yeah." I nodded eagerly, rubbing his arms. Could we hug, again, please?!

"Jesus, I was so mad," He squeezed my arms as he said this, "You really are a genius, you know that?" He reached up to tuck a piece of hair behind my ear. Then he froze.

My heart stopped.

"Is this a wig?" He asked, taking the strand he'd tried to tuck between his fingers. He inspected it, closely, leaning down to get a better look, then his eyes met mine. There was no suspicion in them, because I'd never given him a reason to suspect me of anything, just curiosity.

I came so close to lying. So very close. "Yes." I whispered. I knew that my eyes were full of shock, concern, but I tried to play it off. Thinking back on miserable childhood memories, (I had a ton of those) I attempted to conjure up some fake tears, and it worked, "When I was a child I acquired a... a very rare... scalp condition... and... my hair..." I weeped and covered my mouth, as if it were all too much to take. I turned away from his stunned face, keeping one hand over my mouth and leaning on the counter with the other. "Oh god!"

I could hear him sigh from behind me, "Oh, fuck, Nic, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, I had no idea." He came around to face me and tried to wrap his arms around me. Just to maintain some credibility, I pretended to be too hurt to hug him and pushed him away. He wouldn't have it, clasping my arms and pulling me to him. I placed my hands on his chest in an attempt to push him away and we stayed that way, him pulling and me pushing, for far too long. In fact, I'm pretty sure that I was secretly beginning to enjoy it.

"No." I jammed my eyes shut and turned my head away from him, "No, it's too late. Even the five hundred dollar wigs aren't good enough. You'll never look at me the same, again, will you?"

"Nic." Justin seemed genuinely hurt by these words, and I wondered why I was taking it this far. What was I so desperate to pull out of him? He released one arm to hold the other with both hands and drew me to him. "I'll never look at you the same? Are you kidding me?"

The tone of his voice washed over me like warm milk and I slowly found myself allowing him to pull me, and he did just that, he pulled until my arm was around his waist. Then he grabbed my other arm and put that around his waist, as well. Ah, this was nice. This touching Justin Timberlake business was something I could definitely grow used to. His hand stroked the back of my wig and he cradled me against his chest. Fuck, he smelled good. His nipples were inches from me. I could see them, just above my eyebrows, poking against his black shirt. Mmmmm.

His chin rested against the top of my head, "I'm sorry. Shhhh. I'm sorry. I'm an asshole. I shouldn't have been so blunt." He pulled away and looked down into my eyes. Tenderly, he swept away my fake tears, appearing honestly distressed, "Nic, you could be black, green, fat, smelly... whatever. You had me. You have me. You're pretty much... pretty much my favorite person in the world, right now, you know? And you know what? You're probably right, I'll never look at you the same, again, because every minute that passes I find out another thing about you that I really like, and that I want to know more about. You're always changing in my eyes, for the better...."

The tears in my eyes were officially real, and I only realized that when one feel from my eye as I was staring up at him, and ran all the way down to the bottom of my chin. He wiped that tear, too, and lifted my head, lowering his own. I. Couldn't. Breath as his eyes slowly took in every inch of my face. I didn't know whether to be worried or enamored. How closely was he digesting my features as his eyes traveled from my lips, to my nose, lingering on my eyes? Was he picking up on the tiny similarities I had to the woman he'd just been with? Or was he seeing Nic? Only Nic? I couldn't imagine that if he was seeing Nic he would have the look in his eyes that he had at that moment.

"Don't lie." I said as another tear escaped my eyes. He caught that one at my cheek, brushing it away long after it was gone, "You would hate me if I was smelly." I sniffled.

"Yeah, more than likely. Yeah." He smiled widely, but it slowly fell. He hesitated, pressed his knuckle to my cheek, then shook his head, "No." He whispered, smiling so softly that I barely saw it. "You had me at melanin." He stroked my cheek, "Remember that?"

I nodded and, though pure instinct, my eyes fluttered shut. 

"Bitch, I thought you told me that you packed my..." My eyes popped open. Jess. My head snapped to the door of our room and I jumped away from Justin just as Jess croaked, "Mouthwash." Her eyes jumped from me to Justin. From Justin to me. Then back again. Her eyes landed back on me and her voice was high and squeaky, "Nicole, may I see you in our bedroom for a moment?" She turned and hurried away before I could answer.

I whirled toward Justin, who was adjusting his shirt, which was already perfectly ironed and didn't need adjusting. Our eyes met and he shrugged, "I can handle the gumbo for... a while." Then he turned away from me before I could answer.

Sheesh.

I hurried into Jess and my room, for the first time eager to get away from Justin, and closed the door after me. She was leaning against the headboard of my bed with her legs crossed at the ankles. Though she was cleaning her nails, her eyes were riveted to the door as I locked it behind me.

She gave me a moment, and when I didn't say anything, she sighed, "Oh! Please, allow me to begin. Um..." Her eyes narrowed, then landed back on mine, "What the fuck was that?"

I hurried over to the bed and climbed in next to her, eager for the closeness. I missed her. "We weren't doing anything. I was crying and he was comforting me."

"People who aren't doing anything don't jump away from each other when another person walks into the room, KiKi. Okay? People who aren't doing anything don't turn as red as that fucking man just turned out there."

"He turned red?" I asked, smiling.

"Are you serious?!" Jess picked up the nearest pillow and whacked me smack in the face. Hard.

I wasn't even mad at her. I needed that. "I don't know what I was thinking, Jess. I was out of my mind. When I look at Justin I forget my own name sometimes. I completely forgot that I was supposed to be his future step-sister Nic in that kitchen. All I knew was that I was completely attracted to him and wanted to kiss him. I wanted to kiss him."

"KiKi, you are my sister and I know you well. I know that you do not go in for a kiss unless you are getting a complete metaphorical green light from the man. You don't have the balls, otherwise."

"It's different with Justin."

"I highly doubt that. What kind of signals was he sending you in there?"

"None."

"So you came onto him without provocation?"

Why was she talking so fast? "No."

"He came onto you? Knowing that you're his seventeen year old future-step sister? Because if he did then this whole thing has been a colossal waste of time. You should have just stayed exactly as you were since the dude obviously has no problems fucking around with his future kin."

Oh my god, somebody shut her up. "He didn't come onto me, either. We were hugging, Jess. That's all. It was a sweet embrace that would appear intimate to the casual observer but it wasn't. Believe me, I've seen Justin when he is captivated by a woman--"

"He seemed pretty fucking captivated to me."

My eyes widened, then fluttered, "Really?"

She grabbed the same pillow and knocked the shit out of me. My entire body actually swayed.

I rolled my eyes, "Thank you."

"You're welcome. Freak." The look on her face was full of concern, like I'd just escaped from a mental ward.

"Seriously, though, Jess. I've seen Justin when he's turned on. The look on his face... his eyes, I know when he's hot for a woman and that out there..." I pointed to the kitchen, "That wasn't it."

She didn't say anything, but I could see my words had little to no impact on her or her opinions. As usual. "Can I ask why the two of you were hugging to begin with? Or do you have some bullshit excuse for that, as well?"

"He almost busted me, Jess. He asked me if my hair was a wig."

She gasped, and finally! An appropriate response. "Fuck." She hissed.

"Yeah, that's right, Jess. He asked me, flat out, is that a wig? So, I had to make something up really fast, so I told him I had a scalp condition and pretended to start crying about it. That's why he hugged me. Because he felt bad that he'd made his sister cry. Not because he was trying to get his jollys off, but because he's kind."

She stared at me, really stared, and for a long time. I could almost hear the minutes ticking away on the dainty watch she wore on her wrist. Her eyes danced through a series of contrasting tones from shock, to disbelief, to flat out confusion. Then her eyes met mine and the tinniest smile crossed her face before she grabbed her stomach, threw her head back and collapsed onto my lap with a wail of laughter that quickly grew into hysterics.

I really hated her sometimes.

With a little too much force, I shoved her head off of my lap, and it bounced onto the mattress a few times, never silencing my sister's thunderous roaring.

I rolled my eyes and tried to talk over her, "So, I'm going to go back out there before he realizes we're talking about him." She didn't respond and I mumbled, "Whore."

--

We finished the gumbo in silence. Complete silence. Only when Justin was pulling out two bowls did he finally speak to me. He looked down into the bowls, turned to me, and didn't say anything for a second. "Do you think Jess will want some?"

I squinted, "Eh, probably not. She's on that no carb, no sugar, no fat diet."

He closed the cabinet, "Wow. How's that working out for her?"

"It's only her second eating disorder of the month so it's a vast improvement from July."

"Yeah." He chuckled, "So... just you and me, then?" A moment of silence passed and he raised his eyes to mine.

I held his gaze, even though it was strange. Strange in all the right ways. "Actually all that taste testing has got me pretty full. I honestly don't think I can eat another bite at this point. Maybe later?"

He was running his finger around the edge of the pink bowl. My bowl, or so I assumed, since the other one was blue. "You sure?" He softly asked.

I nodded once, then again, since I couldn't think of anthing else to do, before motioning behind me, "I think I'm going to go scope out the game room. I didn't have a chance to do it earlier what with feeling like I was going to die and all..."

"Yeah, yeah." He smiled.

"I remember seeing an air hockey table in there and I am the air hockey, champ. We should play when you're done eating."

"Yeah, yeah." He said, again, and I realized it was a nervous habit of his. Again, I was baffled at what I could possibly be doing to make him nervous. Maybe my standing in front of him, shuffling my feet and 'aw shucks-ing' him into oblivion was what prompted him to fidget about the way he was now.

I turned away from him in a hurry and made my way across the cabin to the game room. Fuck. Why had I almost kissed him? What the fuck was I thinking? Where was my head?

That was the problem. I hadn't been thinking. I hadn't been of sound mind. I never would be of sound mind when I was within two feet of that man and that was what would make or break this entire trip. If I couldn't control myself around him when I needed to, how could I be trusted to control this entire situation on my own? With Jess too busy laughing me into oblivion I had absolutely no help. I coudn't carry all of this on my shoulders. It was way too much.

Then it hit me, just like that. Cindy Morenacca. My best friend since Ms. Story's kindergarden class where I'd mistaken her pink Barbie backpack for my hot pink Barbie backpack. God Cindy! I hadn't spoken to her in days, which was like a miracle with us. That girl was my other half and I knew she'd have my back until the day I died. Just thinking about her made my whole body swirl with longing. God I missed her. I wondered what she was doing at that very moment and how she would react when I told her that not only was Justin Timberlake about to be related to me but that I planned on christening that relation as frequently as possible before it happened. Man, that is so unholy.

I made my way into the game room and closed the door, strangely conforted by the buzzes, bangs and cartoon explosions that surrounded me. An ice hockey table sat in the middle of the large room and was practically screaming my name. Jess and I would definitely have to hit that later so I could kick her ass. Pin ball and video game machines were pushed up against every inch of the wall and at the far end of the room were shelves upon shelves of boardgames. If I wasn't mistaken, I was sure that every game in exisistence was up there, Connect Four and Scrabble being my all time favorites.

I took a seat on a couch at the far end of the room and flipped on the television. As an orange juice infomercial came blaring to life before me I took my phone out of my pocket so I could call my baby Cindy. The moment the phone was in the hand, however, the door to the game room opened. After being momentarily startled, I smiled when Justin stepped through, blue plate in hand.
He looked towards the ice hockey table, first, then towards the couch. When his eyes caught mine, he returned my smile, but lingered in the doorway.

"Hey." I spoke first, slamming my phone shut. Cindy would have to wait. "Is there something wrong with the gumbo?"

"No." He looked down into the bowl, "No." Then back up at me, "No, I just... I just don't like to eat alone. May I?"

When I realized he was motioning to the couch I visibly jolted, then proceeded to throw a bunch of pillows and cushions out of the way, "Of course, of course. I'm just watching infomercials."

He closed the door and made his way over, setting his bowl on the coffee table and taking a seat next to me on the couch. He was close, but not close enough. For a moment, he watched the television, leaning his elbows on his knees, taking a spoonful of gumbo every other minute.

While he ate and watched the infomercial, I watched him. Quietly, hoping that he wasn't aware.

Then he said it. "Nic, I understand that you used to be a big NSync fan, my mother told me all about it... and I think it's great. Don't get me wrong."

Oh god, what the hell was he about to say? He was about to say something to piss me off, I already knew it.

"But we have to be realistic here. You're my future sister. I'm your future brother. You're seventeen, I'm twenty-six." He sighed, deeply, studying his gumbo closely, "I guess what I'm trying to say is..."

When his eyes landed on me my entire body froze.

"Nic, I just need you to not come on to me, anymore. All right? I know it's hard, but... please. You can't do that. It puts me in a really awkward position."

Oh. My. God. I saw red. I saw red. I wanted to say a million and one things in response, that I hadn't come onto him in the kitchen, at all. And even if I had, I had merely been responding to the completely obvious signals that he'd been sending me. Was he seriously going to sit there and act like this was all one sided? Or was he honestly delusional enough to believe that it was? I sputtered, but no words came out.

"Okay?" He asked, his eyebrows knitted tightly together. "Deal?"

Before I could stop myself, I reached forward, threw my arm out and knocked his entire bowl of gumbo off the table. Justin's eyes followed the bowl as it flew, clear off, and sailed-- sailed across the room where it smashed against the side of the Ms. Pac Man machine and tumbled to the floor in musical shards. All over the coffee table and wood floors were thick coats of gumbo juice, veggies, sausage, shrimp, you name it. The silence that followed was suffocating.

Justin stared at the mess with a face that could only be described as staggered. He turned to look at me, but I hopped off of the couch and stormed out of the room before he could do that or even say another word to me.

I slammed the door shut when I left, too.

Okay, I'll be the first to admit that maybe knocking his food off of the table was a tad immature of me, but... I am only seventeen, after all. For the first time in my life, I might as well act my age, since it's what everyone else will reduce me to, anyway.

What Justin didn't know was that pissing me off was the last thing he wanted to do. I had a woman inside of me that he didn't know I had, a power. If he pushed me far enough, I could make his life a living nightmare.

Hell hath no fury like a KiKi scorned.