“No, no the reliefs should go in front. Why? What do you mean why?”

 

I shift the phone from one ear to the other, juggling my bags while struggling to get to my wallet for my I.D. I’m digging in my purse, growling as my carry-on slides from my shoulder to the crook of my elbow. I sigh, struggling to keep my patience as the security guard glares at me and waits. I fucking hate flying; the packing, the security, the tiny seats on the plane. I hate it all

 

A large hand rests lightly on my shoulder as another reaches for my bag. I look up and he just gives me a small smile, shouldering my carry-on along with his. I smile tensely.

 

This was his idea, this little vacation. Ever since we met again in early March my life has been a whirlwind of red eye flights and early morning goodbyes whispered against bare flesh, both of us doing everything we can to spend every moment together possible. Even though we both do our best to be with each other it still doesn’t change the fact that I am gearing up to take over my department at the end of the summer and Justin is… well… Justin.

 

“The reliefs need to go in front because they are from 350 B.C. and the figures are from 42 B.C.,” I explain as calmly as possible considering the intern I’m speaking to is a moron.

 

A TSA official checks my I.D. and Justin is moving towards the exit to the tarmac, standing next to Tiny as he pauses to wait for me to catch up. When he asked me to spend Fourth of July weekend with him I immediately said yes. It was the first time I’d seen him in two weeks and even after we’d spent hours in bed together I was still ravenous for any part of him. So I had said yes when he invited me to LA to meet his friends but the next day after he had left to wherever it was he had to be and the bed was made I began to worry just slightly that this may not be the best of ideas. I mean he and I haven’t spent any real time together in ten years. The last three months have been a blur of sex and skin and while that has been great…beyond great really, it doesn’t hide the fact that I’ve changed. He’s changed. What if we don’t even like each other anymore?

 

Justin pushes the door open and a warm breeze blows in, ruffling his t-shirt, giving me a peek at the tan skin between his hip bones. Well, I doubt we’ll ever not like each other in some way or another. But spending a whole week together, seven days, a vacation together, going away together is a pretty big step. One that I’m wondering if we should have waited a little longer to take.

 

My mind jars as the person I’m speaking to on the phone says something completely absurd.

 

“What do you mean the figures are older?” I exclaim. “I just told you-”

 

“Skylar,” Justin says softly and I hurry after him, following him outside, the private plane waiting for us on the runway.

 

“The figures are not older! Did you not hear what I just said?”

 

“Sky,” Justin says, sighing and turning to me, walking backwards.

 

“I said the figures were from 42 B.C. and the reliefs are from 300 B.C.”

 

“Sky.” His voice is flat and warning. But I’m not listening because my intern is a fucking idiot.

 

“Oh my god,” I mutter, bringing my hand to my temple and closing my eyes in frustration. “We are talking about B.C. as in ‘before Christ’ as in the higher the year the older the piece!!!” I swear to god I’m going to rip this kid’s head off when I-

 

Justin snatches the phone from me and I whimper slightly reaching for it but he catches my wrist in his hand, clearing his throat and placing the receiver to his ear. I watch horrified as he speaks in a cool, pleasant tone:

 

“I’m sorry, Dr. McKibbons is on vacation until next Wednesday”. If you have any questions, please contact her assistant or leave her a voicemail at her office. Thank you and have a nice day.”

 

I’m staring at him slack jawed as he snaps my phone shut and slips it in the front pocket of his sweats, grinning at me. I look around dumbly, feeling strangely cut off from the world.

 

“You’ll get it back at the end of the vacation,” he says pecking my forehead and I give him a withered look. He sighs. “And they call me a work-a-holic.”

 

“Oh ha ha,” I reply condescendingly, following him onto the plane.

 

This is going to be an interesting weekend.

My phone rings in Justin’s pocket as we are making our way through LAX and my fingers itch to answer it immediately. He lets it ring a few times before slipping his hand in his pocket and drawing it out casually, checking the caller I.D.

 

“Who’s Lawrence Nichols?” he asks and my eyes widen as he mentions the curator of the Greek arts department at the Toledo Museum of Art.

 

“Gimme that!” I exclaim snatching for my phone but he looks at me, his face pulled into a mask of intense contemplation.

 

“Do we know a,” he looks at the ringing phone again, “Lawrence Nichols, Tiny?” he asks and Tiny shakes his head bemusedly as I reach for the phone but Justin holds it just out of reach.

 

“Justin, gimme the phone!” I sigh irritated  and he gives me an offended look

 

“Are you cheating on me?” he asks, his voice accusatory but a smile tugs at the corners of his lips. Tiny chuckles to himself,

 

“Justin!” I exclaim, grabbing into his arm and trying to reach for the phone, but he flicks it open and puts it to his ear. I watch mortified.

 

“Dr. McKibbons’ phone. Justin Timberlake, assistant, speaking,” He smirks.

 

I press my palm to my forehead. “Oh god.”

 

“I’m sorry sir, Dr. McKibbons is on vacation for the remainder of the week. Fourth of July holiday you know. She’ll be back in the office on Wednesday if you would like to talk to her about…what was it…a diadem?”

 

My eyes widen and I snatch the phone from his ear, him pouting at me deeply.

 

“I’m sorry Dr. Nichols what was that about the diadem?”

 

We’ve been trying to procure this ancient Greek diadem from the Toledo museum to do some studies on it and this is the first time he’s called me back. I hurry ahead of Tiny and Justin in case he gets any more genius ideas, stepping out into the warm Los Angeles air.

 

“Yes! Yes we’re still interested in-”

 

My voice cuts off as I let out a shrill scream, my phone slipping from my hand as three men jump out at me, cameras crushed against their faces. They step close to me and I back pedal, my heart thundering in my chest.

 

“SKY!” they exclaim one after the other, yelling even though they’re only a foot from me, their attention overwhelming me and I step back again.

 

“Here on vacation?” one asks and I step backwards, my foot crunching over a piece of my decimated cell phone.

 

“Or maybe doing a little tutoring?” another sniggers and my jaw drops.

 

“Skylar!” Justin exclaims and I turn to find him jogging towards me, Tiny picking up his carry-on that he seemingly dropped in his haste to get to me.

 

The cameras turn to him and he slides between me and the men, my hand immediately wrapping around his arm, nails digging into his skin in panic. His face is a hard mask of anger as he pulls himself to full height, scowling down as the cameras continue to click in his face.

 

“Hey Justin!” one exclaims jovially. “Bringin’ your girl out for a little summer school?”

 

“You motherfuckers just never quit huh?” he snaps, his arm wrapping protectively around my waist, dragging me towards the street.

 

I tuck my face into his shoulder, my heart still racing and his grip on me tightens, turning his face into my hair as he mutters, “Its okay I got you.”

 

“My phone,” I say weakly, looking over my shoulder at the broken pieces on the ground.

 

“I’ll get you another one,” he says tensely, ushering me along quickly, his arm leaving my waist as he hurries over to the pick up lane.

 

Tiny barks at the men to move along, nudging them back further, their lenses still snapping furiously, the men cat calling me. Justin flips them off, receiving a cacophony of clicking shutters in return. I’m dazed by it all, panicked and stressed so I have to blink twice as Justin hurries to a fire engine red sports car, gleaming like a shined apple in the California sun. A short, stocky man pulls himself out of the driver’s seat and Justin greets him quickly, the two of them eyeing Tiny as he hands our bags off to another man who loads them into an SUV behind the drop top.

 

“Sky,” Justin says, holding out an arm, beckoning me forward and I look back at the three men who are still snapping away. “Sky!” he says again, tersely this time and I jump, scurrying towards him.

 

He pulls open the passenger side door for me, ushering me in and shutting me inside quickly. He rounds the back of the car, the paparazzi descending on him again as Tiny and the two other men climb into the SUV behind us.

 

“I’ll see you guys back at the house,” I hear him say mutedly, before he opens the door and folds himself into the driver’s seat. “God dammit,” he mutters under his breath as the engine roars to life, the sound loud and jarring and my entire body, already tense from the previous encounter, tightens even more.

 

He peels out and I gasp as we jump onto the road, ten yards away in a matter of seconds. He maneuvers the car out of the airport parkways fairly quickly and zooms onto the 405, barreling along at a harrowing pace.

 

“Are you okay?” he says, his hand leaving the shifter and running the backs of his fingers up and down my bicep quickly before reaching for the shifter again to take us out of fifth gear as he slows down to a less break-neck speed. “I’m sorry about that.”

 

“It’s…it’s okay,” I say shakily, looking over at him and finding his face scowling, his brows knit together in anger.

 

“Fucking assholes,” he growls, shifting again as he swerves around a car, speeding past it.

 

My hand covers his on the gear shift and he glances at me, his face relaxing a little, heaving a sigh, his shoulders slumping slightly.

 

“Welcome to L.A.” he quips and I laugh a little, the tension draining from me at the sound of his throaty laugh.

 

“Great place,” I grin, nodding my head as I watch the city fly by.

 

Silence descends on us and it’s slightly awkward. We haven’t really sat down and talked since the coffee shop that first day he came back. His fingers tap on the steering wheel to a beat only he can hear and then he glances at me, smiling.

 

“You can turn on the radio if you want.”

 

“Okay,” I say and reach for the radio knob but stop abruptly when I see enough buttons and knobs to pilot a small plane. “Good Lord.”

 

He laughs. “Sorry, I’ll do it,” he says, reaching forward and flicking a few switches and the heavy bass of a hip hop song fills the car, the seats vibrating with it. He cringes, smiling still. “Sorry…not really your style?”

 

“Its fine,” I reply, bobbing my head a little to the beat.

 

“You like hip hop?” he asks, quirking an eyebrow at me and I shrug.

 

“I don’t mind it. I’ve only really heard what’s on your iPod,” I reply and then cringe as he turns his head to me slowly, a smile pulling at his lips.

 

“When have you listened to my iPod?” he asks and I blush, smoothing my hands over my thighs, fingering the hem of my shorts.

 

“You left it at my apartment that one time,” I say and he eyes me, grinning. “What, I was sick of all my music.”

 

“Sure,” he smirks, punching the gas and we zoom ahead of a group of cars, careening down the highway at a perilous speed.

 

He’s watching me from the corner of his eye, smiling when I gasp and grip onto the seat, the leather soft as butter under my fingernails. He reaches out and swipes his fingers along the gleaming dashboard, seemingly wiping away dust but there is none in sight. In fact the car is so clean it looks as if its never even been driven. He reaches down and fiddles with the radio knobs again, adjusting the bass until I can feel it vibrate in my stomach and then grabbing the gear shift, throwing us back into fifth as we clear another small cluster of traffic. I gasp again, squealing a little as he weaves in and out of traffic, not slowing down until we’re stuck behind a group of cars that seems to be moving at a snails pace even though we’re going sixty-five. He’s grinning widely, eyes cutting to me every once in awhile and I get it now. He’s trying to impress me. With his car. I can’t help but giggle.

 

“Nice car, J,” I say and he beams at me, settling more in his seat and leaning a little on his door.

 

“Thanks,” he says, pulling his face into an unaffected stare, watching the road ahead of him. “I’ve had it for awhile.”

 

I giggle, leaning onto the console, my shoulder brushing his arm and he sits up in his seat so that his arm presses to mine. He turns his head just slightly to look at me, slowing down some and licking his lips.

 

“How long have you had it?” I ask, my arm sliding down his to cover his hand on the gear shift.

 

“Couple years,” he says, his eyes flitting back to the road for a moment, shifting when my other hand curls around his shoulder, lifting my body so I can breathe against his ear.

 

“You get lots of pussy with this car, J?” I ask and he gasps at my brazenness, fingers tightening around the wheel and I can’t help but smirk at him a little, kissing his ear lightly.

 

“I may have,” he replies, the corners of his mouth turning up and I grin as I snake my tongue out, laving the shell of his ear, relishing in the shiver that shakes through him.

 

My fingers tighten over his on the gear shift. “Show me what she’s got.”

 

He grins widely and I clutch onto his shoulder as he throws us into fifth gear, the force of it causing me to squeal, watching the dotted line between the lanes turn solid. My heart is pounding, watching as we clear mile after mile at a breakneck speed, not even daring to look at the speedodometer, grasping onto him so I don’t slide backwards between the seats. He laughs, throwing his head back as he brings us back down and I start to chuckle too, relaxing a little as the g-force goes down and I press my lips to his ear again, nibbling the lobe slightly. He growls as I suck the skin just under his ear, but I pull back with a gasp when I hear sirens.

 

“Fuck,” Justin mutters, looking in the rearview mirror, finding blue and red lights flashing.

 

I grimace, pulling myself back into my seat and grabbing for my seatbelt quickly, clicking it in place as he pulls to the shoulder, sighing and letting his head fall back against the seat, waiting for the officer to climb off his motorcycle and come to the window.

 

“Good afternoon,” says a tall, gruff looking man in police tan as he strides up to the driver’s side door.

 

Justin squints up at him. “Afternoon officer,” he says, grinning brilliantly.

 

“Clocked you going 110 back there…and you were slowing down. Any reason you’re in a hurry?” he asks, his eyes flitting to me and I look at my lap.

 

“Sorry, you know how these cars are. They have a tendency to get away from you,” Justin chuckles, a charming lilt in his voice.

 

“I wouldn’t know,” the officer replies, having none of it, “Driver’s license and proof of insurance please.”

 

“Yeah, sure,” Justin says, lifting himself up off the seat and fishing his wallet from his back pocket. “Babe, could you grab my insurance card from the glove compartment.”

 

I reach forward, popping the lid and fishing around for his insurance card. I find it, checking to make sure I have the right thing. In the process I notice that its two months expired. Oh great.

 

“Is this the right one?” I ask quietly, eyes flitting to the officer and Justin takes it from me.

 

“Yeah,” he says, handing it along with his driver’s license to the officer. “Here ya go. So, you have kids?”

 

I look at him, wondering what the hell he’s doing. The officer seems to be wondering the exact same thing. “No,” he replies, looking over Justin’s driver’s license and making notes on his clipboard. “Why?”

 

“I didn’t know if you had any daughters. Maybe they were into my music,” he replies smoothly and I turn away looking out the window. Oh god.

 

“I’m sorry…” he says chuckling slightly, pausing to check Justin’s driver’s license, “Mr. Timberlake…but I don’t have any daughters.”

 

“Nieces? Maybe they’d like an autograph,” he says and my nails bite into my palms. What the hell is he doing? I’ve never heard him pull a “don’t you know who I am” in the entire time I’ve known him. He picked a really shitty time to start. Just…stop talking, Justin. Please for the love of god stop talking.

 

“You wouldn’t be trying to bribe an officer would you sir?” he asks, his voice gruff, eying Justin hard. “Because that’s a pretty serious offence.”

 

“No!” Justin exclaims, his ears turning red as he sighs and runs a hand over his face. “No, of course not.”

 

“Good,” the officer says, giving him a curt smile. “I’ll just ring you up here.”

 

The officer ambles back to his bike and Justin sighs, letting his head fall back against the seat.

 

“Of course, the one person in the world who doesn’t know who I am,” he grumbles and I can’t help the laugh that pulls from my throat. He glares at me. “Glad you find it amusing.”

 

I gasp at the venom in his voice. “I’m sorry,” I say slowly. He’s never snapped at me before, not like this. Not when he meant it.

 

He sighs and looks out the window, tapping his fingers on the side of the door, waiting for the officer to come back. This is awkward. I haven’t felt tension with him since…well…maybe ever. Sexual tension yes…this kind of tension, no. Not the kind where he’s mad at me.

 

“Alright,” the officer says, strolling back up to the car. “Mr. Timberlake I’ve cited you for reckless driving which is a misdemeanor offense and requires your appearance in court.”

 

“WHAT?” Justin asks, his eyes widening as he looks up at the officer.

 

“I would assume you have a lawyer on retainer?” the officer says and Justin scoffs looking ahead in disbelief, still reeling over the last statement. “You might wanna call them.” He hands Justin a ticket. “And here is one for failure to show proof of insurance. You can dispute that one in court if you have valid insurance now and you just don’t have your card on you. Do you have any questions?”

 

“Can I just pay this now?” he asks, his voice flat and my nails bite into my hands again. Polite, Justin. Be polite for god sake.

 

“Sorry sir you have to appear in court,” the officer says nodding. “I can tell ya now the reckless driving is gonna cost you about 3,420 dollars and the insurance infraction is about 370 dollars so that has you at about…” he pauses screwing up his face as he calculates in his head.

 

“3, 990,” I say and Justin turns to me, his eyes hard.

 

“Thank you, Skylar,” he replies condescendingly and I bow my head again, silencing instantly. “Great…just great.”

 

“You have a nice day sir,” the officer says smiling. “And slow down.”

 

“Yeah,” Justin grumbles, shoving the tickets in his pocket. “Have a nice day.”

 

The rest of the drive is silent, me chewing my bottom lip, wanting to say something but knowing it’s probably not the best of ideas. I knew this would happen. I knew that we were too different. Too much time had passed and we aren’t the same people. Not to say that we don’t still care about each other. If I didn’t care about him I wouldn’t be feeling sick to my stomach right now, dread sitting on my chest like a rock. But people care about each other all the time and it doesn’t work out. Maybe we just really aren’t meant to be.

 

The highway has given way to twisty turning side streets, the road cut into a beautiful countryside, hills and rock cliffs off to the left and the mountain looming on my right. The higher we climb the bigger the houses get and by the time we pull onto a maze of secluded drives I see nothing but towering roofs safely guarded behind high walls. We climb higher and higher, the road barely large enough for two cars to pass, leafy trees allowing the sun to dapple down on us. We pull into a cul-de-sac and Justin presses a button on the steering wheel, my eyes widening as a large wooden gate swings back and Justin maneuvers through it, gravel crunching underneath the tires as he pulls into the large driveway of a house that looks large enough to be a hotel. He parks in front of the entrance and turns the car off and now it really is silent, the roar of the engine gone and nothing but awkwardness left in its wake.

 

“Hey,” he says softly, and I see his hand creep into view, reaching for one of mine. “Hey, I’m sorry.”

 

I nod, not really knowing how to respond. I’m not telling him its okay because its not and I don’t want to bitch at him because I understand that he was frustrated. His thumb smoothes over my knuckles before he sighs and lets go, gripping my head rest, turning in his seat to face me fully.

 

“Hey,” he says, his voice quiet and apologetic, hooking his finger under my chin, forcing me to look at him.

 

My eyes crash into his and I see him, all of him, staring back at me, apologetic and a little embarrassed by his actions. I soften a little when I sense his fear, fear that he may have screwed this up royally. Fear that I won’t forgive him. I reach out and touch his face and his eyes close, pressing his cheek into my hand. His lips brush my palm and he sighs, the hand on my head rest wrapping around the back of my neck, tugging me forward. His lips find mine over the console and my chest lightens, the tenderness of his mouth on mine is all I need to know that he didn’t mean it, that he’s sorry.

 

“I was a jackass,” he says pulling back and I shake my head at him, kissing him again.

 

“It’s over,” I reply, pecking his lips softly over and over and he grins slowly, chuckling at the way I’m holding his face so he can’t pull away.

 

The hand on the back of my neck tightens and he crushes his mouth to mine, his tongue slipping in and what were we fighting about? We weren’t fighting! It was just…oh who the fuck cares. My hands slide around to fist in the short strands of his hair, tongue massaging against his and when he pulls back we’re both breathless, looking at each other wide eyed, still amazed that we can get so lost in each other with just one kiss.

 

“Our first fight and you haven’t even been inside yet,” he sighs and I dip my head giggling slightly.

 

“Well…” I say nuzzling my nose with his. “It can only get better.”

 

He grins pulling himself out of the car and I do the same, rounding the front of the little red sports car, eyeing it as Justin waits for me to get to his side before we make our way to the front door. His hand settles warmly on my lower back as he pushes the door open and I’m awed slightly by the grandeur of the entryway, looking around speechless.

 

A rumbling, strong and rolling not unlike thunder comes from over head and it only gets louder, the sound of claws skittering against hardwood and two large dogs come tearing through the great room, barreling towards us. Justin grins widely, crouching down and both dogs plow into him, knocking him backwards. He laughs as they lick at his face, sputtering and spitting as they bark happily at him. I giggle and one turns its mammoth head to me, jaw open and tongue hanging out the side, seemingly grinning up at me.

 

I squeal as it rears up on its hind legs, its paws digging into my stomach and I grab on trying to alleviate some of the animal’s weight from my abdomen.

 

“Buckley DOWN!” Justin says, his voice echoing harshly off the high walls and the dog drops back to all fours, wagging its tail excitedly.

 

Justin grabs onto its face, nuzzling their noses together and the dog licks at him affectionately, Justin turning his head just in time so the dog laps at his cheek and not his mouth. The other is peering up at me curiously but stays behind its master, waiting to be told what to do.

 

“Buckley?” the dog who’s face Justin holds cocks its head at its him. “Brennan?” Justin looks back at the dog behind him who regards him curiously. “…this is Skylar.” He says, his eyes falling on me, still rubbing Buckley’s face in his hands, grinning slowly at me. “Sky, this is Buckley,” he says nuzzling the dog’s nose again. “And this back here is Brennan, come’ere baby,” he says softly and the other dog ambles around him to lay its head on his shoulder. “Buckley’s the boy. Brennan’s the girl.”

 

“Well, hello,” I say and Buckley turns to me, his entire body wiggling as he wags his tail hard. I bend down to pat his head and he jumps up licking me in the face, causing me to sputter and laugh.

 

“Hey only I get to French the girl,” Justin laughs, tugging Buckley back by his collar as I wipe at my face.

 

“Hi Brennan,” I say, holding my open hand out to her but she has none of it, eyeing me cautiously and staying close to Justin.

 

“Aww, come on Bren play nice,” Justin chides gently, rubbing her ears and her eyes flutter closed, “She’s shy,” he says and then laughs as Buckley throws himself down on his back on top of my feet. “And he’s a whore!” Justin exclaims, patting the dog’s ribcage hard causing him to roll over and bounce around playfully. 

 

“Hey J is that you?” a feminine voice drawls from the other room and a short skinny brunette peeks out from the great room, clad in a bikini top and cut off jean shorts.

 

Justin pulls himself off the floor, wiping at his pants as he does so. “Hey Ray,” he says hugging her quickly before stepping back and throwing an arm around me. “This is Skylar…Sky this is my assistant Rachel.”

 

“Also his cousin,” Rachel replies, eying him hard before giving me a short wave. “Nice to finally meet you Sky. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

 

I look at Justin uncertainly and he just beams. “Um thanks, I’ve heard quite a bit about you too.”

 

“None of its true,” Rachel replies and Justin and I both laugh.

 

“Where is everybody?” Justin asks and my stomach tightens. Everybody?

 

“Out back,” she says cocking her head back into the great room and Justin nods. “We’ve got the fire goin’ and everyone’s just kinda chillin’ by the pool.”

 

“They take the bags upstairs?” Justin asks bending down to rub Brennan’s head who had been pawing at his leg.

 

“Yeah,” Rachel says turning to leave but pauses turning back towards us. “Trace says he saw you get pulled over?”

 

Justin’s ears pinken. “Yeah, um…can you take care of that for me?” he askes digging into his pockets and pulling out his tickets. “Oh and they said my insurance was expired! What the fuck?”

 

“Did you pick up the new insurance card I left on the counter for you two months ago?” Rachel asks and Justin’s eyes widen, his neck turning red. “No, I know you didn’t because it’s STILL sitting there.”

 

“Okay okay,” he says, dropping his head, his face red and I can’t help but grin at him. “Everyone’s out back?”

 

Rachel nods, turning to walk back into the great room. “Yeah you guys change and come on out. It was great meeting you finally Skylar.”

 

I smile at her and I feel Justin’s arms slip around my waist from behind, tugging me back against him. He nuzzles his face into my neck and I grin, my hands sliding over his forearms, fingers threading in his.

 

“I just invited a few people over,” he says softly, kissing the side of my face. “I know you’re tired from the flight.”

 

“It’s okay,” I say, butterflies tickling my stomach at the thought of meeting his friends. His friends who are all probably his age and wondering what the hell he’s doing with me.

 

“Come on,” he says softly, squeezing me tight before pulling back and taking my hand. “Let’s get you in that bikini.”

 

“What makes you think I wear a bikini?” I ask, lifting an eyebrow at him as he tugs me into the great room and I’m awed once again by the sheer size of it.

 

“Because I bought you one,” he grins, tugging me toward the stairs and my jaw falls open. He chuckles giddily.

 

“How did you-”

 

He makes a hissing sound with his teeth, causing me to silence instantly and he grins again. “Doesn’t matter. All that matters is you’re gonna put it on.”

 

“Hey motherfucker!” I jump, startled as a harsh male voice echoes off the walls and turn to find the same man who handed Justin his keys at the airport stride through the hallway just next to the base of the staircase. “Saw your ass got tapped by the fucking cops. They strip search you?”

 

“Shut the fuck up,” Justin says, his ears reddening a little and the other man laughs, punching him in the arm.

 

“Gotta watch that road head man it makes you do crazy shit.” I gasp and Justin punches him hard. “OW!!!”

 

“Great first impression asshole,” Justin says wryly. “Skylar this is Trace, my idiot best friend.”

 

“Hi Trace,” I say holding out my hand to him and he grasps it, grinning and nodding. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

 

“Same here,” he says eyeing me and Justin slaps him again. “What! You talk about her all the time!”

 

I raise an eyebrow turning to Justin who presses his lips together and eyes me kind of sheepishly, his ears bright red. He stutters a little and Trace just smirks at him, letting him squirm for a moment before saying:

 

“Hey I can’t get the grill to work.”

 

“Did you try turning it on,” Justin quips and Trace narrows his eyes.

 

“Yes fuckhead I turned it on,” Trace replies. “You know how it does that thing sometimes-”

 

“Ugh yes,” Justin groans, letting his head fall back. “I’ll check it out.” He turns to me. “My room is at the end of the hall, the double doors” he says extending his arm up towards the stairs and jabbing his finger to the left. “You can change in there.”

 

I make my way up the stairs cautiously, listening as Justin and Trace speak in heated whispers at the base of the steps. The words “…her that way” “…just kidding” “idiot…” and “sorry man…” stick out among the whispers. I smile as I make my way to the top of the stairs, looking down to see them disappear through the doorway at the base of the steps. Maybe he’s just as nervous about this weekend as I am. Maybe we’re both nervous for nothing. We met again after all this time. We’re together now. That means something right? 

“And then….THEN he tripped and fell flat on his ass. THAT’S how he broke his foot!” Trace says and I’m crying from laughter.

 

“Would you shut the hell up over there?” Justin hollers from his place at the grill, brandishing his spatula in a threatening gesture and Trace just grins.

 

“He’s a closet klutz don’t let him tell you otherwise.”

 

Trace winks at me and I grin back at him. I have no idea why I was even worried. When I stepped out of the house and into the backyard I was so nervous. I have dealt with some of the most renowned artists and archeologists in the world. I’ve met with multimillionaires to discuss funding for the museum. But for some reason meeting Justin’s friends had my stomach in knots.

 

This could be because of the fact that I was meeting them half naked. The suit that Justin had left on the bed for me was little more than scraps of fabric held together by bits of string, the soft blue nylon dipping just below my pelvic bone, exposing all of my tattoo, which I’m sure was his goal from the start. The little skirt on the bottoms is hardly long enough to reach my thighs and the two small triangles cover my breasts but just barely. Metallic scroll work in a blue just slightly darker than the rest of the suit curves and loops all over the fabric in a very loose interpretation of Greek architecture. It’s something I would never even give a second glance to if I was shopping. But I look damn good in it. How does he always do that? He comes in with little nighties and bra and panty sets that I wouldn’t buy in a million years but when I put them on they transform my body into something I never dreamed it could be.

 

Which is all well and good when it’s just he and I but not when we’re out back grilling with seven of his closest friends. I had crossed the patio shyly, settling awkwardly on a lounge chair while Justin ran in to change into his swimsuit. It was fairly awkward at first but then Trace sat down next to me and started regaling me with stories of Justin’s past, all the way from when they were kids in Memphis to the exploits of his last tour. I can see why the two of them are best friends.

 

We’ve been back here talking, drinking, and laughing for a few hours, “shootin’ the shit” as Trace and Justin say. This drinking and camaraderie, I’m not all that familiar with it, having spent the majority of my college career with my nose stuck in a book but it’s a lot more fun than I imagined. This could of course be the alcohol talking.

 

Rachel and her friend Laney are shooting playful barbs back and forth between each other, giggling tipsily before breaking out into loud laughter, Marty and Nick are paddling around the pool, and Tiny sits between Rachel and Laney listening intently, the eternal observer. Justin is just now pulling the burgers off the grill, setting them on a plate as Brennan sits expectantly at his feet, and Buckley is sprawled out on the warm pavement a few feet away. I watch Justin, the setting sun casting a warm glow on his naked torso as he closes the top on the grill and walks around it bringing the plate of food with him.

 

“Grub!” he hollers as he sets the plate on the table and everyone starts milling closer, grabbing paper plates and piling the food on. I’m about to get up when Trace stops me by leaning in close, seemingly sharing a secret.

 

“You should hear about the time he dressed up in Rachel’s prom dress,” Trace says and I chuckle to myself.

 

“I actually heard that one.”

 

Trace’s eyebrows raise. “Oh really?”

 

“Yeah and I heard he wasn’t the only one,” I tease lightly. Trace grins at me good naturedly.

 

“Told you about the high heels?” he asks and I grin nodding, “and the glitter eyeshadow.”

 

“Here ya go babe,” Justin says, handing me one of the plates in his hands before glaring down at Trace. “Get up.”

 

Trace peers up at him amused. “Sky and I were getting to know each other a little better.”

 

I giggle as he wiggles his eyebrows at me, alcohol forcing me into a slight daze and making everything seem funnier than it is.

 

“Ha ha,” Justin replies condescendingly. “Come on man, move.”

 

“Alright…alright but only because I’m starving,” Trace replies, pulling himself up and stretching before patting Justin on the shoulder and going to get a plate.

 

Justin sets his plate down next to me on the lounge before tugging the legs of his shorts up and straddling the end of the chair. He tugs himself forward so that his knee presses to mine and he leans in to nuzzle my cheek, receiving a giggle in return before grinning to himself and digging into his food.

 

“You doing okay?” he asks and I nod, trying wrap my hands around the massive sandwich he’s handed me.

 

“This is fun,” I say, trying to take a bite and barely being able to fit it in my mouth. “Jeez Jus this is huge,” I say, chewing slowly and wiping at my chin.

 

“I get that a lot,” he smirks, eyes a little hazy from the alcohol and I giggle pushing at his shoulder. He looks around his brow knitting. “Damn I forgot a drink. You want another beer?”

 

“Um okay,” I say knowing I probably shouldn’t drink anymore but I don’t want to be the only one not drinking.

 

He starts to get up but Laney’s voice stops him. “I’ll get it for you Jus.”

 

I nearly choke on the bite I just took, keeping my head down. Justin’s knee bumps mine and I see his thigh tense. No one calls him that but me. Jealousy flairs in me but I stop myself, finding that I’d fallen into the old trap of forgetting who he is, what he does. He has girls screaming for him and wanting to be with him all over the country. I shake my head. He’s here with me. He brought me here to meet his friends. I don’t own that nickname for him. It’s probably just a coincidence that she used it. Its not like she likes him or anything.

 

“Thanks, get two will ya?” Justin responds, one large hand smoothing up and down my back a few times before reaching down to grab his burger again.

 

Laney slinks over, two cans of beer in her hands and I take one from her, trying to smile but she isn’t looking at me. She’s looking at Justin, smiling down at him in a shy way. Okay maybe I wasn’t overreacting.

 

 He takes his can from her, giving her a quick smile before ducking his head to pop the top. She waits a beat before turning away, looking at him over her shoulder before settling back in her chair.

 

I watch Justin for a moment as he takes a swig of his beer before setting it on the ground next to his feet and picking up his sandwich again seemingly unaffected. Okay, I’m overreacting. Laney’s a nice girl. She’s been quiet all evening but not unfriendly. I’m sure I’m overreacting.

 

“Everything okay?” Justin asks and I snap out of my daze, realizing I’ve been staring at him and have barely touched my food.

 

“Oh…yeah,” I say and give him a quick smile. He smiles back at me, rubbing a hand over my back again, before shoving the rest of his sandwich into his mouth.

 

I attempt to eat my burger the best I can, chewing slowly. Justin is watching me intently, picking at his chips and eating them, his eyes never leaving me. He always did that, just sat and stared at me. He reaches up and brushes my hair off my shoulder, leaning in to press a kiss there sweetly, allowing his hand to run down my back again. I look over at him, swallowing and I smile.

 

“What are you looking at?” I ask in a low whisper and he grins at me, chuckling a little.

 

“You,” he replies and I giggle, taking another bite of my sandwich.

 

“Well stop you’re making me nervous,” I reply, poking him in the chest and he smirks at me.

 

He leans in to kiss me but stops when a shadow is cast over us. I look up and Laney is standing there holding several empty plates. She smiles at Justin, again not looking at me.

 

“I’ll take your plate Jus,” she says, holding out her hand. There’s that name again.

 

Justin nods, handing her his empty plate and thanking her before turning back to me and pulling himself closer to me. He tugs me to him, the hand on my back wrapping around to hold me at my hip, his other hand resting warmly on my stomach. I set my food aside as I wrap one arm around his sun warmed shoulders, settling against him comfortably and everything is fine. Who cares what she calls him. He’s with me. That’s all I really need. He nuzzles my ear, kissing down my cheek and I turn my head capturing his lips with mine. He pulls back slightly, nuzzling his nose against mine and grinning, his blue eyes dancing happily and everyone and everything else just melts away.

 

“I like your swimsuit,” he says, his fingers slipping down to run over the ink of my tattoo before flattening his hand and smoothing it back up my stomach.

 

“Oh I’m sure you do,” I reply, gasping as his mouth opens against my neck, his tongue reaching out to dot my skin before his teeth graze gently. “Justin…” I giggle warningly, my eyes flitting to the group of people sitting not five feet away.

 

“What?” he asks pulling back to grin at me, his eyes hazy and I giggle.

 

“You’re drunk,” I reply nodding my head at him and he narrows his eyes, shaking his head from side to side.

 

“Nope, I’ll tell you what I am though,” he says, smirking at me and I feel his hand slide down my back, fingers tracing my spine. I shiver.

 

“What’s that?” I ask and he grins, tilting his head to nibble at my neck before breathing hotly against my ear.

 

“Horny.”

 

I burst out laughing. “Justin!” I pull back slightly, giving his shoulder a shove and he laughs, dropping his head to my shoulder and sighing. “You are so drunk.”

 

“I’m not so drunk,” he replies scoffing playfully and then he lowers his voice. “I want you.”

 

“I’m right here,” I reply, smoothing his curls back from his forehead and he raises his eyebrows, taking my hands in his, his thumbs smoothing over my knuckles.

 

“Right here?” he asks, smirking at me playfully, bringing my hand to his lips while the other snakes around my back again. “In front of all these people?” I laugh, letting my head fall back with a sigh. He’s such a kid sometimes. “That’s a little kinky for me but all right if that’s what you want.” His fingers find the bow at my back and I gasp.

 

“Justin Timberlake, don’t you dare!” I exclaim and he laughs, a deep throaty sound from his chest, his fingers walking back down my spine in concession. I press my lips to the side of his face and he grins widely.

 

 “So how’d you two meet?”

 

Its Laney’s voice and he and I both look up finding everyone at the table watching us now, the laughter dying down. She’s sitting back in her chair, one bare foot propped against the edge of the table, eyeing the two of us amusedly, her beer bottle dangling from her finger tips off the side of her chair. My eyes flit to Tiny who’s face is a mask. He’ll reveal nothing, strong and silent as always. Justin and I look to the ground, shifting uncomfortably as the silence stretches on.

 

This is always problematic. How did I meet Justin? Well, we met on tour. No, I wasn’t an assistant or a wardrobe girl. I was a tutor. His tutor. If the silence wasn’t awkward before it definitely would be after that.

 

“Um we met awhile ago,” Justin says flippantly, waving his hand and that seems to be that, the others starting to chatter again. Apparently Justin’s word is law around here.

 

Or so he thinks.

 

“Really? How long ago?” Laney presses and everyone quiets again, her eyes boring into him and I look from her to him and find his jaw tight, his eyes warning.

 

“Awhile,” he replies hardly, glaring at her and the other occupants of the table look down but she’s undeterred.

 

“She’s older than you right?” Laney asks, taking a drink from the bottle in her hand, eying him challengingly

 

“Justin likes older women,” Trace jumps in, chuckling lightly, trying to cut the tension. “Still needs to learn a thing or two.”

 

“Oh I heard she taught him some stuff,” Laney responds, taking another swig of her drink and the electricity in air is amplified tenfold. Justin’s fingers curl against my back as I drop my head, looking at the ground. “How old we you when you met her? Fourteen? Fifteen?”

 

Seventeen. I cringe, nails biting into my palms as my heart starts to race. I can feel the heat of Justin’s anger, his body tense next to mine, the hand on my back gripping at my skin hard enough to bruise.

 

“Laney,” Rachel whispers, tugging on her arm. “Come on…you’re drunk.”

 

“So what if I am drunk?” Laney responds, setting her bottle on the table with a jarring thump and then leaning back in her chair, jutting her chin out defiantly. “I’m just asking a question.” Her eyes fall on Justin again, scorn and something else I can’t place painting her face. She smirks. “Did you hit it back then Jus? Did you even have hair on your dick yet?”

 

Justin flies up from his seat, fists balled at his sides as I gasp. “Laney! Inside right fucking now.”

 

“Justin,” Rachel says, her voice warning, her eyes pleading and Justin just shakes his head.

“Come on,” Justin says turning resolutely towards the house. “Inside. Now.”

 

Laney pulls herself from her chair and wobbles her way towards Justin, defiance in her eyes and a smirk on her lips  He glares at her, jaw set as he opens his arm to let her pass in front of him. He and Rachel share a look before he follows Laney towards the house and then inside, shutting the sliding glass door behind him with a snap.

 

“Uh…I should go,” Nick says, looking at Marty who nods, both of them standing.

 

“Yeah, me too,” Marty responds awkwardly. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Skylar.”

 

I stand, reaching to shake Marty and Nick’s hands. They look amused at this. Apparently you don’t shake hands in this situation. Great.

 

“Yeah, great meeting you,” I reply, watching them walk toward the house and disappear through a gate I hadn’t even noticed before.

 

“Uh… I’m gonna go turn off the grill and head out too,” Trace says, standing and heading out towards the grill. “Great meeting you Sky,” he says grinning at me and I grin back. His face goes solemn as he looks at Rachel. He nods at her before turning and making his way to the grill.

 

“I’m gonna go get the car,” Tiny says, pulling his hulking form from the chair and I look at him slightly panicked. For some reason Tiny being here is a comfort. I know Tiny and he knows me. He knows everything. He gets it. “Yeah,” Rachel replies sighing and he gives her a pat on the shoulder before ambling towards the house.

 

“Good seeing you again, Sky,” he adds, giving me a curt nod as he walks past and I watch as he leaves through the side gate.

 

I turn back and find Rachel eyeing the glass door to the kitchen wearily. I don’t know what’s going on. I’m out of the loop. This part of his life, I’m not a part of it. It makes me wonder if he’s a completely different person when he’s here. It makes me wonder if he thinks of me when he’s here. Am I that saturated into his life that I permeate his every thought even when he’s away from me? Because that’s certainly the case with me.

 

“We should go inside,” Rachel says after a moment and I press my lips together in a tight smile. This is awkward.

 

I follow her to the gate, listening as she whistles for Brennan and Buckley who trot after us. We step into a lush pathway with trees hanging overhead, meandering around the side of the house until we reach a side door. Rachel opens the it, allowing the dogs entry and I follow, finding us in a laundry room, the yelling audible even from where we stand.

 

“I never fucking promised you anything Laney.” Justin’s voice echoes off the high walls. “There was never anything between you and me.”

 

“What, so all the flirting and the innuendo, that just meant nothing?” Laney’s voice rings out and Rachel and I don’t look at each other, standing awkwardly in the doorway.

 

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Justin exclaims and I can hear the frustration in his voice.

 

“Why don’t you go on upstairs,” Rachel says softly, nodding toward the doorway and I nod, looking back uncertainly. “Yeah just go through the family room and you’ll be in the foyer again.”

 

I make my way through the large family room, walking cautiously around the leather couches in the darkening room. The sun is setting and the house is nearly dark as I make my way back into the foyer and through the great room, Brennan and Buckley trailing after me, wondering what this stranger is doing traipsing around their master’s house. I hear angry murmurings from the kitchen as I make my way up the stairs, the dogs stopping at the base, the angry voices drawing their attention.

 

“Fine!” Laney exclaims, loudly causing me to halt about halfway up. “You just run off to New York with her and live happily ever after. Maybe you can stop off at a high school on the way for a little menage a trois.”

 

I close my eyes and cringe. Will it always come back to this? Are we destined to account for ourselves for the rest of our lives? Is it really gonna be one pedophile joke after another?

 

“HEY!” Justin’s voice echoes angrily. Not if he has anything to do with it.

 

“Come on Laney, lemme take you home.”

 

Its Tiny’s voice, gentle and coaxing and I freeze as I see him guiding Laney past the stairs and toward the foyer. She’s hugging herself, her face tearstained and I almost feel bad for her. Brennan and Buckley follow behind them, guiding the newly christened intruder in her journey out the door.

 

“I don’t want her in my fucking house anymore, Rachel,” Justin barks, his voice closer this time and I panic, making quick work of the rest of the stairs, padding my way down the carpeted hall toward the double doors of his bedroom.

 

“What so I can’t have friends now?” Rachel’s angry voice wafts up the stairs and I cringe.

 

I tug down on the lever handle, pushing gently and slip inside, the room almost completely dark aside from the soft light of the setting sun that is filtering feebly through the French doors to the balcony. The large bed is perfectly made, a mass of soft blue sheets and pillows overlooking a marble fireplace, candles scattered around ledge. An overstuffed chair sits next to the doors leading to the balcony, a book sitting on the table next to it and I step over to see the title.

 

But my breath catches in my throat as I catch sight of the magnificent view, the sky painted pink and orange and purple, the rolling countryside dotted with homes, lights twinkling in the windows. I step out onto the balcony, propelled by the beauty of the scene and I’m struck by the fact that Justin sees this everyday. He wakes up to it. He goes to sleep with it. I can’t help but wonder why he spends so much time in New York with my shitty view of the concrete jungle, buildings and sidewalks, street lamps and garbage cans.

 

I nearly jump out of my skin when I feel two strong arms wrap around my waist, hugging me back against his naked torso and I grin as his lips smudge along my shoulder. He heaves a sigh, his chin resting against my shoulder, swaying me gently to the music in his head.

 

“Some view,” I whisper, still slightly enthralled and he cranes his neck, looking down my body

 

“Indeed,” he grins and I roll my eyes playfully, elbowing him in the ribs gently. He huffs, the air leaving his lungs as I pull from his grasp and smirk at him over my shoulder before moving to the bed, fingers playing along the soft blue comforter. “I’m sorry about Laney.”

 

I turn to find him standing there, the dying light causing his skin to glow warm, his hand rubbing the back of his neck uncertainly. He bites his lip and winces and I know he’s wishing he never even mentioned it. He’s searching for something else to say.

 

“Its okay,” I say, nodding my head and he scowls.

 

“It’s not okay,” he insists. “Laney…” he sighs. “Laney has a…a thing for me…or something,” he spats, waving his hands in the air in frustration. “I tell Rachel…I tell her I don’t like girls hanging around. It’s all drama and petty bullshit and all they wanna do is…” he trails, looking up and his eyes widen when he realizes it’s me he’s speaking to. “um…”

 

“All they wanna do is what?” I ask grinning at him and his cheeks redden.

 

“Um…”

 

“Fuck you?” I ask, raising an eyebrow and he gives me a tight smile.

 

“Yeah,” he says with a sigh. “I mean, its not that I don’t want Rachel to have friends. I mean you know…why can’t she just have guy friends?”

 

“Justin, a girl cannot just have guy friends,” I reply, looking around the room. My brow furrows. “Where’s my suitcase?”

 

Justin sighs, walking over to a set of doors and disappearing through them into the closet, reappearing a moment later with my luggage. “Why not?” he asks, hauling it onto the bed.

 

“Why not what?” I respond unzipping the bag and pawing through for a pair of underwear, stifling a yawn with the back of my hand.

 

“Why can’t she just have guy friends?” he whines, peering into my suitcase.

 

“Because she needs someone to talk to, someone she’s close to,” I reply, watching him reach to touch my things gingerly but stops, looking at me with a frown.

 

“She’s close to me.”

 

I smile softly at him touching his face. His scowl lessens. “Do you wanna hear her talk about sex?”

 

He jerks his head back. “Ew! God no!”

 

I laugh. “Then she needs girl friends.”

 

“Fine,” he sighs, grumbling slightly as he reaches into my bag and plucks out a pair of barely there silk panties. He smirks. “These.” I grin, snatching them from his hand and turn toward the bathroom. “Sky, wait.” I pause, turning back and he’s back inside the closet. I hear him rummaging around, the clink of hangers knocking against each other and he reappears, tossing a ball of fabric my way. I catch it against my chest and his scent instantly envelops me. “You can sleep in that.”

 

“Anything else?” I ask before stepping into the bathroom.

 

“Nah that’s it,” he replies, missing my sarcasm as he goes back into the closet.

 

I step into the bathroom, startled for a moment by the size of it. A large whirlpool tub is nestled under a large open window, boasting views equally as breathtaking as the one in his bedroom. Half burned candles litter the edges of the tub and I can just see him relaxing in here after a hard day, head tipped back, eyes closed.

 

There’s something almost voyeuristic about being in his house, surrounded by his things. There’s so much I don’t know about him now. So many ways he’s changed and being here, in his most intimate of sanctuaries, it’s good to know that some things haven’t. Like the pile of dirty clothes in the corner.

 

I chuckle to myself, peeling off the tiny swimsuit and slipping comfortably into his old t-shirt. It smells like him, soft from frequent wear and its better than any nightie he could ever buy me. I squint at myself in the mirror, finding my small toiletries bag nestled against the side of the vanity and pull out my toothbrush and soap. I go through my nightly ritual- face wash, moisturizer, body lotion- and as I’m brushing my teeth I realize what a pain in the ass my nightly ritual is. All this crap I have to drag with me everywhere. It’s practically taking over Justin’s counter.

 

I rinse my tooth brush and wonder if he would mind if I left this stuff out instead of having to repack and unpack it again and again. My brain stalls, body seizing in panic. Is that some kind of step? Like leaving your stuff at a guy’s place, in his bathroom. That’s a step right? Is it a step he wants to take with me yet? I mean he invited me over here, across the country to stay in his home but does that mean I should really make myself at home?

 

I close my eyes trying to think of what he does when he stays with me. He keeps his tooth brush, deodorant, razor and shaving crème in a drawer in my bathroom. He uses my toothpaste. But all of his stuff is still in ziplock bags. God what does it all mean? I’m too old for this. This is the kind of ridiculous pondering you do in your early twenties.

 

“Everything okay?”            

 

I turn and find Justin standing in the doorway in boxers and a wife beater. I stare back at him, holding my toothbrush dumbly, looking from him to the jars and pots I’ve set on his counter. He smiles as he steps towards me, taking the toothbrush from my hand and dropping it in the holder, right next to his. He kisses my forehead and reaches around me to tug open a drawer in the vanity.

 

“I cleared this one out so you could put all your beauty crap in it,” he says and I watch his brow furrow when he sees the mess on the counter. “Maybe I should have given you the bigger one.” I purse my lips, unable to contain my grin.

 

“Oh stop,” I say pushing his shoulder and he grins at me, kissing my cheek sweetly as his arms snake around my waist, his hands reaching to grab my ass.

 

“Get in bed,” he whispers lowly into my ear, sending a shiver down my spine and I yelp when he smacks my ass playfully, giving me a little shove towards the doorway.

 

I giggle to myself, padding back into his bedroom and approaching the massive pile of sheets and pillows that is his bed.

 

“Hey Jus, where do you want these?” I ask, grabbing two of the decorative pillows and holding them out. He leans back from the sink so he can see me from the doorway of the bathroom and I giggle because he looks adorable with his face half covered in shaving crème.

 

“Just toss them at the end of the bed. That’s where they usually are when I’m not trying to seduce you,” he grins and leans back over the sink and out of sight.

 

I grin to myself, tossing all the pillows towards the end of the bed and then I struggle to pull the heavy comforter back, fighting a yawn. My fingers brush the soft cotton of his sheets and I briefly wonder what side I should sleep on. I try to think of which side he’s always slept on. I smirk when I realize it’s usually whatever side he falls on when he rolls off of me. I sigh, resigning not to care about it any more, allowing my body to fall into his bed, the water blue sheets engulfing me and I have never felt fabric this soft in my life.

 

I pull the blankets over me, burrowing down and holy hell this is the most comfortable bed I’ve ever been in in my entire life. I nestle my head against one of his pillows, my body relaxing completely as his scent surrounds me and a quiet contentment washes over me, my head lolling to the side towards the doorway to the bathroom, waiting, eyelids heavy.

 

Something catches my eye on the bedside table and my heart drops, eyes opening wide. I hesitate for a moment, blinking, thinking maybe I’m seeing things before I resign to struggle across the mammoth bed towards it, reaching for the hair clip sitting innocuously next to his alarm clock. My fingers wrap around it and it hurts to hold it, to know that it was probably left here by some other girl. Someone other than me that shared his bed.

 

I bite my lip, my fingertips smoothing over the dips and planes of it and I gasp as pain shocks through me, pulling my finger away and finding a small cut on the pad of my index finger, blood bubbling to the surface. I scowl at it, remembering a long time ago when I used to cut my finger on a hair clip that looked a lot like…

 

My eyes widen and I turn it over in my hands again and again and there it is, a small chip in the plastic near the springs from when I dropped it getting off the bus so many summers ago, the edge sharp as ever. I stare at it dumbfounded and notice it’s a lot more beat up than when it was in my possession, the plastic tortoise shell finish scared and scratched, a few teeth missing from being carted around the world at the bottom of his suitcase.

 

I nearly scream, the clip falling from my hands as Brennan and Buckley both fly onto the bed, snorting and panting, trampling my body under the sheets. Buckley jumps forward, wagging his tail playfully, his front paws on either side of my waist, licking my face. I sputter and cough, laughing as I push at his chest, barely moving him. Brennan makes herself comfortable at the end of the bed, ignoring me completely.

 

“Aw come on guys,” I hear Justin groan and he’s pulling on both their collars, dragging them towards the door, his face still half obscured by shaving crème, the other half smooth. “Not tonight… Don’t gimme that face,” he warns as he closes the door on them.

 

They whine and I hear a paw scratching at the wood but a quick whistle from Justin and they’re silent. He sighs, shaking his head as he walks back towards the bathroom. He grins at me and I can’t help but giggle at him, his face half shaved, walking around in his underwear.

 

“You look good in my bed,” he says, before disappearing into the bathroom again and I can’t help but agree.

 

I manage to find the hair clip in the mess of sheets and place it gingerly back where I found it. I’ll ask him about it later. My eyelids are heavy as I settle back against the pillows again, the combination of jet lag and alcohol making my limbs heavy. I rub my cheek against his pillow, the softness of it soothing me as I drift in and out of consciousness, barely noticing when the light flicks off and the room is thrown into darkness.

 

I feel him slide into bed next to me, his legs smoothing against mine as he props his head on his hand, using his other to brush the hair away from my face. I try and pull my eyes open, struggling to smile at him. He kisses my forehead and down my face, his hand sliding down my arm and reaching for my hip, tugging my body closer to his and my arm wraps weakly around his waist, my face pressing into his chest. His hand smoothes around to grip my ass, squeezing softly and I want to lift my head to kiss him but my body doesn’t listen. I’m too comfortable and sleep is so close.

 

He sighs. “You’re tired,” he whispers, pecking my forehead softly and burrowing down in the covers with me.

 

“Nooooooo,” I slur, my hands pawing weakly at his sides. “No, I want to.”

 

My eyes are closed but I can tell he’s grinning. “We have all week baby.” His fingers run through my hair. “Sleep.”

 

He settles onto his back and pulls me against his chest, my ear resting over his heart and I’m fading fast but I want to stay awake. I want to lay here against him and savor this moment but my body is just too exhausted. His lips press to my temple and he whispers softly that he loves me and that’s all it takes for me to drift into a peaceful slumber.

The next morning I don’t want to wake up, the sun teasing my eyelids open long before I’m ready for it. My cheek is still resting easily on Justin’s chest, his breathing slow and steady, arm curled around my shoulders. I shift slightly, rubbing my cheek against him and I still cannot get over how comfortable his bed is. I haven’t slept that good in ages. I stretch, rolling onto my back and Justin growls at the disturbance, rolling away from me and curling up, heaving a sigh before falling back into sleep. I grin, propping my head on my hand while the other smoothes down his arm, relishing in the goosebumps that break out over his skin. He shivers, slipping his arm beneath the covers and curling tighter into himself. I bite my lip, leaning in to place a soft kiss at the nape of his neck, his skin warm under my lips, before crawling out of bed.

 

I shuffle into the bathroom, wincing at my reflection in the mirror as I brush my teeth. I need to shower. I sigh turning towards the tub, glancing around and I see it, the cavernous marble shower in the corner of the room, recessing into the wall. I look inside and I’m twenty-three years old in Houston, Texas, covered in chocolate and scared as hell because I’m about to lose him. I shake my head reaching for the hot and cold knobs, twirling until water spits from all six shower heads, banishing those memories into the recesses of my mind. He’s here now and he’s not going anywhere.

 

I tug the soft cotton of Justin’s shirt over my head, his scent gone from the fabric. I sigh, pushing my panties down my legs and step in, the water beating down on me soothingly as I let my mind wander.

 

Ten years. Ten years is a long time. It’s almost uncanny how we just stepped back into each others lives, fitting almost effortlessly as if we’d never been gone in the first place. I think that’s why the little awkward moments when people ask us how we met or comment on our age difference catch us so off guard. When it’s just he and I it’s nothing. It’s us. Our relationship was always just he and I. We never worried about how our lives affected us as a couple. Our relationship was a retreat from our lives.

 

I gasp as I feel a hand snake its way around my stomach and Justin’s lips press to my shoulder, his hands coming up to cup my breasts. I gasp, the pleasure so sudden and intense, a flash of heat traveling down between my legs as he breathes hotly against my ear.

 

“Good morning,” he mutters as he licks up my neck, one hand sliding down my stomach, reaching between my legs and I have to reach up, wrapping my arm around his neck for support.

 

I hiss his name, his fingers rubbing slowly between my folds as his other hand rolls my nipple slowly. I’m panting, fingers fisting in his curls and I can feel him brush my thigh, half hard, almost ready. I turn in his arms, my mouth finding his as my hand finds his dick and his mouth falls open, allowing my tongue to slide against his. He tastes like mint and that special sweetness that I’ve never tasted from anyone else. A few slow strokes and he’s completely stiff in my hand and I want him. I want all of him.

 

My lips smudge along his jaw and I feel his vocal cords vibrate as I suck on his throat, my hand still gripping him, the water allowing my hand to slide easily over him. He moans softly as my lips drag down his chest, tongue tracing lazily over the lines of his abdomen. My knees hit the floor of the shower and he looks down at me, eyes dark with lust and I grin at him, hands moving to grip his hips as I flick my tongue out against the head of his cock.

 

“Justin? Justin phone!”

 

It’s Rachel’s voice, muffled from a room away and my body tenses.

 

“Tell them I’ll call them back,” he growls, his hand coming down to wrap in my hair, urging me to continue.

 

I look up at him uncertainly and he whines softly, his fingers massaging my scalp and I shake my head grinning before taking the tip into my mouth, his head falling back.

 

“It’s Matt. Something’s wrong at the studio.”

 

Justin groans as my lips slide farther down his shaft. “Kinda busy here Ray…”

 

“They won’t let him record,” Rachel says, her voice closer now. “Something about the contracts. The label offices didn’t fax the contracts or something?”

 

Justin’s hands leave my hair and he pulls back, turning his head to the side, speaking to Rachel. “Are you fucking kidding me? I took care of that last week!”

 

“I dunno J,” Rachel says with a sigh. “Matt says they’re telling him they don’t have your signature.”

 

Justin sighs. “I signed that last-” he cuts himself off growling.

 

“They need you to go down there,” Rachel says, caution in her voice and Justin presses the heels of his hands to his forehead and looks down at me.

 

“Okay just gimme twenty minutes,” Justin responds and I raise an eyebrow at him receiving a cheeky grin in return, his hand moving to cup my chin.

 

“He’s been fucking with them for an hour. You’re losing studio time,” Rachel responds and Justin sighs.

 

“Okay ten minutes,” Justin responds rolling his eyes and tugging me up, pulling my body flush against his. He grins as he whispers. “Think I can get you there in ten minutes?”

 

I giggle, panting in anticipation as he lifts my leg, hooking it around his hip. He’s right there against me, ready. And I’m ready too. God, I’m so ready.

 

“You’ve already lost about three grand,” Rachel says hesitantly. “Which puts his record at about seventeen thousand dollars over budget now.”

 

Justin growls, his forehead falling against mine, hand squeezing my thigh. My hands smooth down his chest, panting against his lips.

 

“You told me to remind you of that when you procrastinate…”

 

“Yes Rachel thank you!” he barks and pulls back from me roughly, my foot falling to the floor. “I’m coming.” He stomps out of the shower, grabbing a towel off the shelf and wrapping it around himself. “or I’m not coming,” he grumbles to himself and I sigh, my stomach coiling with want as I lean against the shower wall, fighting the urge to drag him back in here with me.

 

But I turn off the water, wrapping myself in a towel and padding back out into the bedroom, searching for him. His jeans are riding low on his hips, the band of his boxers peeking out the top and he’s ripping his shirt over his head, cursing and muttering under his breath. Jesus Christ he’s gorgeous and my breathing hitches as I watch a droplet of water zigzag from his temple and down his cheek, his long slender fingers reaching to wipe it away. He sighs when he sees me chewing my lip in the doorway, eyes roving over his body hungrily.

 

“I’m sorry babe,” he says softly and I shake my head forcing a smile.

 

“It’s okay,” I reply. “Can…can I come with you?” I ask, the ache between my legs making me think I wouldn’t be able to handle the day away from him.

 

He breaks into a grin. “Yeah…yeah you can come. It should only take like twenty minutes.”

 

“Think you can get it done in ten?” I quip, sauntering over to him and he growls at me, grinning as I step into his arms.

 

“We’ll make it quick,” he says, kissing my nose and then smacking my ass. “Now get dressed I’m losing money.”

The drive to the studio is filled with innuendo and lustful glances, my hand resting easily on his thigh, squeezing every now and then as he maneuvers the massive all terrain vehicle through the streets of L.A. We pull into the parking lot of a nondescript building and Justin tells me to wait as he hops out of the car and I can barely see his head as he walks around the front to open my door for me. The ground looks like its ten feet away. He chuckles as he offers his hand to help me down.

 

“Jesus Jus what on earth do you need this massive thing for?” I ask as he shuts the door behind me.

 

“I dunno maybe I’m overcompensating for something,” he grins cheekily and I giggle at him.

 

“Oh, I seriously doubt that,” I respond, my arm sliding around his slim waist as we make our way to a small door in the side of the building

 

“Do you?” he murmurs softly, looking down at me and licking his lips.

                                                            

I nod, biting my bottom lip and standing on tip toes to brush my mouth with his. He grins, moving to deepen our kiss but I jump as I hear someone yell, my nose bumping hard against his. He yelps turning his face away as five men come out of nowhere, cameras clicking rapidly. My heart starts to race and I feel Justin’s entire body tense, his arm tightening around me, pressing his lips to my ear.

 

“Just keep your eyes forward and don’t respond,” he whispers before pulling away from me, slipping one large hand in mine, squeezing tight, my lifeline.

 

“Justin when are you gonna pop the question?” one man asks as Justin tugs me along.

 

“You guys gonna have a summer wedding?” another questions, his shutter snapping and as we approach the building I feel trapped between the building and the flashing cameras, no means of escape.

 

“Where’s your ring, Skylar?” another prods and I tense when he says my name so casually, like he knows me. Justin squeezes my hand, pressing the call button next to the door.

 

“Auerelia Studios how can I help you?” a cool female voice asks but she can barely be heard over the clicking of shutters.

 

“Justin Timberlake,” he says tensely and there’s a quiet hum as the door is unlocked.

 

Justin pulls it open, ushering me inside quickly and my jaw falls open at the lavishness of the reception area. Who would have guessed by the drabness of the exterior? Glass tables and leather couches are nestled against one wall while gold records and plaques line another. The receptionist’s desk, which is really a large fish tank with a workspace on top, is directly in front of us.

 

“Mr. Timberlake,” the receptionist says, smiling as she stands smoothing her suit jacket.

 

“Elena,” Justin responds with a short nod and a quick smile. “Might wanna get security out there.”

 

Elena’s face crumples in alarm. “Yes, I’ll take care of that right away.”

 

“Where’m I goin?”

 

“Studio three,” Elena says, her eyes flicking to me quickly, eyeing me up and down and I wish I would have had more time to clean up rather than just throw on clothes and wrap my wet hair into a bun.

 

One thing I’ve come to notice about being with Justin Timberlake, not my Justin, Justin Timberlake, the guy who wins the Grammys and sells out the arenas, is that no matter where I am or what I’m doing I’m being sized up, evaluated, and documented. I could be sitting in his backyard having a beer or going to the recording studio with him, it doesn’t matter. The only question on anyone’s mind is “is she worthy?”

 

Justin tugs my hand and he leads me back through a long hallway to an open door with a small number three on the plaque beside it. I glance inside and there are five men sitting around, seemingly waiting.

 

“Gentlemen,” Justin says with a sigh, releasing my hand and walking into the room. “What seems to be the problem?”

 

He’s standing tall, shaking hands with each of the men in the room, nodding and smiling congenially. Something radiates off of him, confidence yes but he always exudes a certain aura of confidence. No, what I see in him now is power. The way the men bow their heads to him and speak softly and Justin seems to tower over them, nodding authoritatively to their greetings. I’ve never wanted him more than I do in this moment, my stomach dropping slightly and I swallow hard.

 

“Just a matter of a signature Justin,” says an older man wearing a suit that looks like it costs more than my apartment. He meets Justin squarely in the eye, eyeing him unfazed. Okay maybe not everyone.

 

“Yeah,” Justin says, taking the pen that’s being offered to him by another younger man who looks to be an assistant. “You know I faxed these to you last week.”

 

“We don’t have them on file sir,” the assistant says softly, staring wide-eyed at Justin who smiles at him before turning to the older man again.

 

“No harm no foul I guess,” Justin grins but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Matt, man you cool?”

 

A man about Justin’s age pulls himself off the couch, looking somewhat nervous. His black hair is tussled, face obscured by a week’s growth of beard. He shakes Justin’s hand and gives him a nervous smile.

 

“Sorry about this man,” Matt says softly and Justin shakes his head.

 

“Nah, it’s cool. Hey,” he turns back, his arm extending out to me and I step towards him, smiling uncertainly. “This is Skylar,” he says, his hand settling warmly on my lower back. “Sky this is Matt Morris, one of my best friends and the best artist at my label who is in the room right now.”

 

Matt laughs good naturedly. “Nice to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

 

I glance at Justin who ducks his head, grinning. “Pleasure’s mine,” I reply, holding out my hand, Justin’s fingers digging into my back at the word “pleasure.” Matt grins amusedly as he grips my hand, shaking it. Another no shaking situation. Dammit.

 

“This your girl, Justin?” the older man asks and I turn to find him looking me up and down, appraising me.

 

“Yep,” Justin responds shortly, his hand sliding to grip my waist and tugging me against him. “So I’ll see you later, man. We’ve got breakfast plans.”

 

Justin smiles at everyone in the room before turning and ushering me out quickly, sighing when we reach the hallway.

 

“I fucking hate that guy,” he mutters under his breath and I giggle. “He owns the fucking studio and thinks he’s God or something.”

 

“So we don’t have breakfast plans?” I ask, an accusatory edge in my voice, grinning at him. “It was all some ploy to get you out of there faster?”

 

“No,” he says, leaning so he’s whispering directly into my ear. “We don’t have breakfast plans but I certainly planned on eating something.”

 

I gasp as his tongue flicks out to lick around the shell of my ear, my stomach dropping and how he can get me wet with one sentence still amazes me. He’s standing straight again, smirking slightly to himself but otherwise seemingly unaffected. I bring my hand up, pressing my palm flat between his shoulder blades, curling my nails just slightly and dragging down, eliciting a full body shiver from him. Two can play this game.

 

“Justin!”

 

He stops, turning and breaking into a wide grin as he sees a large dark man approaching him. I know him or at least I feel like I do. I’ve seen them together on numerous occasions, on tour and on television. Butterflies tickle my stomach and its not necessarily from being star struck so much as knowing that this is one of Justin’s very best friends.

 

“Tim! How you doin’ man?” Justin asks, clasping the other man’s hand and patting him on the shoulder.

 

“Doin’ good. Doin’ good,” Tim’s eyes fall on me and he smiles. “This must be Skylar.”

 

I look at him slightly bewildered and then smile. “And you must be Timbaland.”

 

“The one and only baby,” he grins and reaches out his hand. I look at it for a moment before realizing that he wants to shake. Okay I seriously suck at this.

 

“Justin, dude, you gotta hear this track I’m working on,” Tim says and a conflicted look comes over Justin’s face as he looks between Tim and I. “It’ll take like two seconds.”

 

Tim’s already making his way down the hall and Justin gives me an apologetic look as we follow him into another studio, set up much like the one we were just in, soundboards pressed up against soundproof glass, couches and chairs spread throughout, keyboards and guitars laying everywhere. There’s a young dark man sitting behind a keyboard, large headphones on his ears and upon seeing Justin he smiles and waves before going back to what he’s doing.

 

I’m still standing in the doorway, stunned by all I see, but Justin and Tim have moved to the soundboard and Tim is talking heatedly about beats per minute and bass and snare, Justin nodding his head in understanding and it’s as if they’re speaking their own language. Tim flips a switch and a pulsing beat fills the room, Justin finding it instantly and bobbing his head. A slow grin smoothes over his face and my breath catches in my throat at the pure unadulterated joy radiating from him. This is what music does to him, it flows through him and around him, and the effect is dazzling. I see his lips form the words “that’s sick” but I can’t hear him over the pumping bass. Tim flicks it off and instead of silence left in its wake, there’s a ringing in my ears. No wonder Justin never hears me when I talk to him from across the room.

 

“Maybe if you did this?” Justin asks, fiddling with a few knobs on the soundboard, “And added a really funky guitar riff, something like…” and he screws up his face as he plays the air guitar, his fingers plucking out the notes his mouth is spitting.

 

Tim nods. “You wanna work it out with me?”

 

Justin’s smile fades and it’s as if someone has turned out the lights as he turns to look at me but a new smile pulls at his lips. He shakes his head. “Nah man, my girl’s here.”

 

“Its fine,” I say, wishing for nothing more than to see him smile like that again. “We can hang here.”

 

“Sky,” Justin says walking over to me and holding my elbow as he leans into me in conference. “Are you sure? It could be awhile,” he warns but I can see in his eyes it’s what he wants.

 

“It’s fine. I’ll just hang here,” I say and he eyes me.

 

“I’m not kidding it could be hours,” Justin says and I shift. Okay maybe I didn’t wanna spend that long just hanging out. I was thinking an hour maybe and then we could go back to his place. A wave of heat passes through me as I think back to this morning. We could finish that shower…

 

“Hey, you know what. There’s a museum just a couple blocks over I think.”

 

My brain jars. Museum? “Really?”

 

“Yeah,” he says and turns to Tim, “Isn’t there a museum over on Wilshire?

 

“Yeah the L.A. County,” Tim says nodding before sitting behind a keyboard and tapping a few keys.

 

I gasp. “The Los Angeles County Museum! They have the Thomas Hope collection,” I say bouncing slightly and Justin grins at me, amused by my excitement.

 

“Would you wanna do that? Mill around the museum while we bang this out? Is that okay?” Justin asks, his eyes slightly unsure. “I mean I know we were supposed to spend the day together but-”

 

“Justin,” I say, reaching up to touch his face. “It’s fine.” I nod and his face relaxes, his fingers wrapping around my wrist, turning his head to kiss my palm.

 

“Okay, here,” he says digging into his pocket and producing his keys. “Take the truck. We’re on La Brea street and you just head straight down like six blocks until you hit Wilshire and you’ll run right into the museum.”

 

“Justin,” I say looking at the keys he’s holding and laughing. “I cannot drive that truck. Are you insane?”

 

He chuckles. “Okay…well…” he sighs, looking around the room as he thinks. “Okay how bout this. I’ll call Rachel and she can bring up the Ferrari and switch out and you can take that to the museum and she can take the truck home.” He beams at me as if waiting to be patted on the head.

 

“Then how would you get home?”

 

“Rachel’d pick me up,” he says shrugging.

 

“That’s an awful lot of work for Rachel,” I say, biting my lip. She probably already hates me for running her friend off.

 

“Don’t worry she’s paid well,” Justin chuckles and I let my lip slide from between my teeth slowly.

 

“You’d let me drive the Ferrari?” I ask, eyeing him and he nods, grinning.

 

“Just don’t get a ticket. I hear they’re rather expensive,” he chuckles and I smile at him.

 

“Well okay…if you’re sure,” I say, studying his face for a moment and his eyes go uncertain.

 

“If you’re sure…” he says and I nod. The grin that breaks out over his face dazzles me as he reaches into his pocket for his phone.

 

So we’re spending the day apart. This wasn’t exactly how I pictured it but I certainly can’t complain. Justin laughs as he talks to his cousin on the phone, a quiet giddiness surrounding him like an aura and it’s worth it. And I’m not exactly getting the bad end of the deal on this either, my stomach jumping in excitement at the thought of going to the LACMA for an afternoon of art. And I get to drive a Ferrari. Not bad for my second day in L.A.

I sigh, grinning giddily as I step inside the large foyer and close the door behind me. I’ve spent four glorious hours trudging around the museum, surrounded by art and culture and the only thing that could have possibly made it better would have been having Justin with me. In many ways he was, always in the back of my mind, his face and his hands and the memory of the shower from this morning, which of course led to other memories of he and I in the shower. It plagued me as my eyes traveled over Greek statues, their nakedness affecting me so much more than it usually does. It haunted me in European paintings, nude bodies twisted and curved around each other in ecstasy.  It turned me on and revved me up and I swear to god I’m going to pounce him the second I find him which could be days given the size of his house.

 

A soft cheering from the family room catches my attention and I turn to see the massive television lit up, the crowd at Dodger Stadium cheering as one of the players in blue and white rounds the bases. I grin as I see Justin’s lanky frame draped across one of the leather couches, bare feet hanging over the end, one hand resting on his chest that’s rising and falling steadily, fast asleep.

 

I toe off my shoes, padding quietly towards him and carefully straddling his hips, my knees sinking into the soft leather as I lean in to kiss his lips softly. His head turns to the side, jerking awake with a gasp and he squints up at me before grinning lazily. He gives me a soft hum of acknowledgement, his hands smoothing weakly up my arms before falling back down to my thighs, his eyes falling closed again. I run a hand down his face, his cheek scratchy under my palm and I lean down to kiss him again, lips sliding down his chin. He hums again when I suck on his throat, his hands smoothing up my back.

 

“D’you have fun at the museum?” he mumbles, his voice thick with sleep and I hum affirmatively, nibbling at his pulse point. “You must have…you were gone forever.”

 

“How long have you been here?” I ask, suddenly alarmed that he’s been waiting long.

 

He yawns, muscles tensing underneath me as he stretches, his long body pulling tight. I slip my hands under his t-shirt, moaning softly as I feel the soft warm skin of his torso stretch over tight muscle. He makes a rumbling sound in his throat, his arms reaching far over his head and then collapsing back against the couch, his entire body limp.

 

“Oh I dunno,” he yawns again, his eyes still closed. “Couple years.”

 

I swat his chest. “Seriously.”

 

He chuckles. “I dunno babe. I don’t even know what time it is,” he whines, wiggling his hips and his face screws up in displeasure. “Here, move.”

 

He presses his knee against my inner thigh, lifting me slightly as he steeples his knees and I squeal quietly as I’m forced to move so that my body lays between his legs. He grips my biceps, pulling me down so I fall against his chest and he settles back into the couch with a contented sigh. I can’t help but smile, rubbing the side of my face against his chest, feeling his heart thud against my cheek. His fingers thread at the small of my back and he rests his chin on the top of my head, sighing again, wiggling just slightly until he’s comfortable again. His breathing slows and he’s asleep in seconds, my body following the motions of the steady rise and fall of his chest. I sigh, my body begging me to wake him up, to finish what we started this morning but I know he’s tired.

 

And if I really admitted it I am tired too, walking around all day and still being slightly jetlagged from the day before making my body heavy and weak. Within moments my eyelids are drooping, the steady thud of his heart like a lullaby as I slowly drift into unconsciousness.

When I wake up two hours later I’m slightly disoriented, the soft leather of the couch under me instead of Justin’s warm body, the late afternoon sun filtering in through the blinds, the television dark and quiet. I sit up quickly, looking around blearily, rubbing my face and trying to wake up.

 

I pull myself from the couch, stretching languidly and then I hear it, his voice from a few rooms away, singing. I grin to myself, following the sound of his voice through the laundry room and into the kitchen where I find him at the center island, cutting up vegetables, singing and bobbing his head to the music in his headphones.

 

“Justin,” I say grinning and he doesn’t look up, just continues to sing softly to himself. “Justin,” I say again and still nothing. I step closer. “JUSTIN!”

 

He jumps about three feet in the air, ripping his headphones from his ears and dropping the knife with a clatter. He steps backward quickly, avoiding the sharp edge as it falls to the floor.

 

I rush forward. “Oh god, are you okay?”

 

“Yeah,” he sighs. “Yeah,” he says again, chuckling at himself and clutching his chest. “Damn girl you’re dangerous.” He grins at me and I can’t help but smile back. “You sleep okay?” he asks, bending to pick up the knife from the floor before dropping it in the sink and retrieving another one.

 

“Mmmm yes. You’re a very good pillow,” I reply and he grins at me, his eyes twinkling as he continues cutting up carrots.

 

“Whatcha doin?” I ask, leaning on the counter across from him.

 

“Making you dinner,” he smirks and I beam at him.

 

“Just for me?” I ask playfully and he nods, his eyes dancing.

 

“I sent everyone away for the evening,” he replies, picking up the cutting board and sliding the carrots into a pan of water. “It’s just you and me tonight,” he adds, grabbing a potato from the sink and beginning to peel it, the edge of the blade coming dangerously close to his thumb as he skims away the skin.

 

“Just you and me huh?” I ask, my stomach fluttering.

 

“MmmHmm,” he responds, nodding his head and then his eyes meet mine. “No interruptions.” I shiver and he grins. “Oh, I got something for you. On the table,” he says nodding towards the breakfast nook nestled into the bay window that overlooks the backyard.

 

I narrow my eyes at him suspiciously, walking over to table and see a black plastic bag with the Verizon emblem slashed in red across the front. I grin as I reach inside and my fingers close around a cell phone, my phone except brand new.

 

“I had Ray pick it up for you,” he says, his knife still moving steadily over the skin of the potatoes as I flip it open and scroll through my contacts, finding everything the same as it was before.

 

“She didn’t have to do that,” I murmur checking my text messages, all from my best friend, Connie, their urgency increasing over time. “I’ll have to get her a card or something.”

 

“Don’t worry about it,” Justin says, shaking his head. “It’s her job.”

 

“Not to get me a phone,” I say looking up at him and he blinks at me.

 

“Yeah but I asked her to. She has to do what I tell her,” Justin grins charmingly and I can’t help but giggle at him.

 

“You’re a brat.”

 

“You love it.”

 

I don’t respond to this, which is enough of an affirmation for him to smile cheekily at me as he starts to cut up the potatoes.

 

“I’m gonna go upstairs and freshen up a little,” I say airily, turning dramatically and I can hear him chuckle.

 

“Okay, dinner should be ready in forty-five minutes,” he replies and I turn back in time to see him pop a piece of raw potato in his mouth, chewing slowly as he reaches for his headphones again.

 

Thirty minutes later when I pad down the stairs and peek into the kitchen, I find Justin peering into the oven and I grin as I clear my throat. He lets the door to the oven close and turns to me, wiping his hands on a dishtowel. His jaw drops slightly as he takes in plunge v-neck of my summer dress, the handkerchief hem falling just above my knees. I saunter in slowly, my hands behind my back and he grins widely, dropping the towel to the counter before rounding the island to reach for me. I can feel the warmth of his hands through the thin cotton of my dress and he licks his lips, growling when he doesn’t feel the line where my panties usually are.

 

I raise my arms and circle them around his neck, pressing my body fully against his, my nose nuzzling his gently, looking up at him coyly from under my lashes. His eyes darken, pressing his mouth to mine hard and I’m glad he’s holding me so close because my knees actually go weak. His tongue surges past my lips, stealing my breath as his hands smooth down over my ass, squeezing gently. I gasp when he lifts me, hoisting me up onto the kitchen island and my fingers fist in his curls as his mouth devours mine, making me dizzy with want. My fingers fumble with the hem of his t-shirt, hands slipping under it to smooth warmly around his ribs, clutching at his back, nails scraping his skin. He nudges my legs farther apart, one hand smoothing up and down my thigh, the other tugging at the strap of my dress. His lips trail down the side of my neck, leaning me back so he can lick and suck on the skin exposed by the low neckline of my dress.

 

I move restlessly against him, tugging his waist forward so that he’s pressed against me and he’s already half hard. I moan softly, one hand delving into his hair again and tugging, forcing him to pull back so I can crush my mouth to his again. He moans into my mouth, the hand on my thigh sliding to cup my center and I moan in approval, begging to be touched. He hisses when his fingers come in contact with my bare flesh, tracing in my wetness teasingly. My hand slides down his chest, reaching to rub my palm against the crotch of his jeans and he hisses, his head falling back and I nibble at his neck, pressing harder, wanting him right now.

 

We’re jarred out of our lustful fondling by a high-pitched beeping sound and Justin pulls back startled. We both look around dazed, finding the kitchen hazy with smoke and we turn to each other wide eyed.

 

“Shit, the roast!” Justin exclaims, pulling back from me suddenly and skittering around the kitchen island.

 

He rips open the oven door, grabbing for a towel before pulling the flaming roast out of the oven. He drops it quickly in the sink, beating at the flames frantically with the towel and I hop off the counter, looking for any way to help.

 

“Hang on!” I exclaim over the loud wail of the smoke alarm, grabbing for the spray nozzle on the sink.

 

I turn on the cold water, heart pounding hard as I spray at the pan, water going everywhere but finally the flames die down, the smoke detector still screeching loudly in the background. Justin growls, stumbling towards the control panel on the wall and jabbing at buttons until finally all is quiet again aside from our labored breathing and beating hearts. He turns to look at me and heaves a sigh, his eyes asking if I’m okay. I nod, reaching up with the back of my hand to wipe a few stray droplets of water from my face.

 

“Well…” Justin says, walking back over to me, shaking the water from his arms and we both stare into the sink.

 

I glance at him, watching as he surveys the steaming block of charred meat, grumbling as he runs a hand over his handsome face. I watch as he presses his finger against the blackened meat, poking it as if asking if it was okay and I can’t help it. I burst out laughing, the released tension making me slightly slap happy and Justin just looks at me sighing. I can’t catch my breath, clutching on to his arm as my knees weaken from the force of my laughter, my stomach cramping with it until I can only make dry gasping sounds.

 

“Okay, okay,” Justin grumbles after a moment, chuckling slightly himself as he reaches to turn off the water. “It’s not that funny.”

 

“Oh but it is,” I gasp, pressing my face into his shoulder and sighing as the laughter finally subsides. “It really kind of is.” A few chuckles escape me again and I have to breathe deep so as not to be overcome completely once more.

 

“I wanted this to be a nice dinner,” Justin says quietly and I look up at him, finding him scowling slightly, poking the roast again as if he doesn’t want to believe it really is ruined.

 

“Aw babe,” I sigh, my hand reaching to cup his cheek. “It’s fine.” I kiss his jaw softly and he grumbles. “Hey,” I say, reaching for both his hands and he sighs, looking at me, as if he’s only humoring me. “Why don’t we have a picnic,” I say and his expression doesn’t change. “Come on, some sandwiches in the back yard,” I wrap my arms around his waist and he reciprocates slowly but is still skeptical, “laying on a blanket.” My nose nuzzles his and I can tell he’s starting to crack. “Just me and you.” My lips brush his and he sighs, pressing his mouth to mine sweetly, before pulling back with a sigh and he waits a beat before nodding.

 

I grin at him, pecking his lips softly and smacking him on the butt before moving around him to go to the fridge. Everything is going to be fine. Some sandwiches, a couple beers and him laid out on a blanket. This was just a minor setback.

“You ‘bout ready?” I call from the doorway as Justin shakes out a blanket onto the grass just beneath a large orange tree.

 

“Yep, all set,” he says, smoothing the edges of the blanket out with his foot before jogging back to the house.

 

“Here take these,” I say, handing him two paper plates with sandwiches and potato chips piled high. “I’ll get the drinks.”

 

“Mine better be alcohol,” he grumbles and I giggle, grabbing two beers from the fridge and trotting out the sliding glass door.

 

He’s just settling onto the blanket as I make my way over, leaning back on locked arms and heaving a sigh, turning his face to the evening sun and I think he’s finally gotten over the roast disaster. I grin at him, setting the drinks down next to our plates and settling next to him, fanning my skirt out around my legs. He turns on his hip, reaching a hand out to brush the hair off my shoulder, cupping my face and I smile at him, nuzzling against his palm softly. He tugs my face forward his lips brushing mine softly and that familiar tingle spreads down to my center. He grins at me, pulling back and reaching for his sandwich.

 

“Did you have fun at the museum?” he asks, before taking a bite and my eyes widen.

 

“Ugh yes it was awesome!” I exclaim, reaching for my own sandwich. “Did you know they have the most extensive collection of Greek and Roman art on the west coast?”

 

“Can’t say that I did,” he grins and it widens when I babble on about the sculptures and pottery, explaining that really, the Met needs to put more money into our Greek department and try and acquire some of those pieces or at least get them for research.

 

“… I mean some of those things date back to 600 B.C.!” I conclude and Justin’s eyebrows raise, nodding in feigned astonishment. I blush. “Sorry…”

 

“No!” Justin says, reaching out to touch my arm. “No I like when you ramble about that stuff.” He grins. “It takes me back.”

 

“God, to what? Me trying to pound the information into your brain,” I chuckle, reaching to scratch at my hand and find an ant, crawling along my finger. I flick it away annoyed, but then again what’s a picnic without ants?

 

“Oh I think I was the one doing the pounding,” Justin responds and grins widely when I gasp, slapping him on his shoulder. “What?” he exclaims, sitting up and crossing his legs, wiping a hand down his arm. “Ugh ant.”

 

“You are such a pervert,” I tease, reaching to pinch at his ribs and he grins, propelling himself forward until he’s on his hands and knees, face inches from mine.

 

“You like me this way,” he growls, his nose nuzzling against mine and my breath catches in my throat at the lust in his voice.

 

He presses his mouth to mine and my hand moves to the back of his head as he kisses me again and again, his tongue slipping into my mouth and tasting me thoroughly. He crawls over me and I let myself fall back, his hand cradling my head as his mouth devours mine. Screw dinner. I want him right now. He settles between my legs and I moan at the pressure, wanting to feel him, all of him. I’ve waited all day for this.

 

His lips trail down my neck, licking and sucking slowly but suddenly he stops, pulling back to wipe his fingers against my collarbone. I look at him confused and he shakes his head at me, dipping down again to nibble at my shoulder.

 

“Ant,” he murmurs against my skin and I giggle, my arms wrapping around his shoulders, hips pressing up harder into him.

 

He hums, rocking against me slowly and I can feel the tingle in my legs, my body humming with pleasure. His mouth slides along my shoulder, tongue dotting wetly against me, my skin crawling with anticipation. Or maybe that isn’t anticipation, the soft tickle against my legs and shoulders. I push at Justin’s shoulder and he growls, pulling back to look at my face.

 

“What?” he asks slightly breathless and I shift slightly, my legs itchy, skin crawling.

 

“I dunno. Something…”

 

My voice trails as I look down and let out a shrill scream, long lines of black ants, crawling over my legs…and my arms…and Justin’s arms. He jumps back, swatting furiously at himself as I do the same, but it’s not helping. I can still feel them crawling all over me. Tears sting my eyes and my breathing is labored, panic seizing me. I have to get them off me. They have to get off me!

 

“Come on,” Justin says, grabbing my wrist and tugging me to my feet and I can still feel them marching up my legs, on my shoulders and my chest, everywhere. “Its okay, come on.”

 

But I can’t move, too busy swatting feebly at the little black bodies crawling over my skin, too panicked to think straight. Justin growls, hooking his arm behind my knees and pulling me to his chest before taking off running towards the house. He darts through the kitchen and across the Great room, sprinting down a hallway and into a bathroom I didn’t even know existed. He’s setting me down, my legs trembling underneath me and he grabs the hem of my dress, tugging it roughly over my head and I’m completely naked except for the bugs that are still dotting my skin. I swat at them furiously as Justin reaches to turn on the shower, stripping himself quickly before lifting me into the tub and stepping in behind me.

 

“Come on Sky its okay,” he breathes as he forces me under the shower head, his large hands skimming from my shoulders to my wrists, down over my breasts and across my stomach, over my ass and down my legs, wiping away every trace of the bugs.

 

I nod, curling my arms up to my chest, clasping my hands together as I try to stop shaking, my heart finally dislodging itself from my throat. I move out of the way so he can step under the spray, rinsing his body thoroughly, his eyes closed, spitting out the water that seeps into his mouth. His eyes open, meeting mine and I try and smile at him though I’m still trembling, my heart still racing.

 

He reaches for me, tugging me against his chest and I unclasp my arms to wrap them under his, clutching at his back as I press my cheek into his shoulder. His hand rubs soothingly up and down my back, his lips pressing to my hair as I finally start to calm down a little, my eyes closing and I heave a sigh. His hands come between us to cup my face, pressing his lips to my forehead and I grip his wrists, eyes closing as he kisses down my face his lips finally claiming mine.

 

“I wanted so bad for this to be perfect,” he sighs, his breath rushing against my lips and I smile softly at him, wiping the water from his face.

 

“It has been,” I say quietly and he snorts.

 

“Skylar, this vacation has been far from perfect.”

 

I smile at him. “Okay true, but it’s certainly been interesting,” I laugh and he chuckles, nodding his head in concession.

 

I press my mouth to his and he sighs, arms tightening around me, pressing our naked bodies together and the want for him comes back full force. I’m ready to do this. I need it right now. And he must too because he hooks his arms under my knees, lifting me and pressing me back into the shower wall. I gasp, feeling him hardening against my lower belly, panting as I smooth the water from his face, his eyes searching mine. He smiles at me slowly, somewhat shyly, lips brushing mine and I’m twenty-three years old again and it’s so wrong but he just feels so fucking good. He kisses me slowly, purposefully, one hand reaching between us to guide himself to my entrance.

 

“Justin?”

 

He growls deeply in frustration, his head falling to my shoulder and I can’t help the whine that tugs from my throat, my fingers clutching at the back of his head weakly. So close. I gasp as his fist slams into the tile wall, his body shaking with frustration and my nails scratch at his scalp soothingly, shushing him softly.

 

The voice calls his name again, but it’s closer this time and I think I recognize it now. But no it can’t be… there is no way. God is not cruel enough to have her walk in on us in the shower twice.

 

“Seriously?” he asks me, his voice unbelieving as he pulls his head back to look at me, his eyes large. “Am I being fucking punished for something?”

 

“Justin, honey, are you in there?”

 

I give him a sympathetic look and he sighs, hanging his head. We just can’t seem to win today.

 

“Yeah, Mom can you come back later I’m busy,” he says, his voice weak as if he doesn’t really believe she’ll do as he asks.

 

“Well, I just came by to see how things were going. I know you were nervous about Sky coming here…” his mother says, her soft southern drawl coming from directly behind the door now.

 

He squeezes his eyes shut and I grin at him. So I wasn’t the only one with reservations about this vacation? He lets my legs slide from around his waist and I frown at him, running my hands over his shoulders, his muscles tense beneath my palms. I paw at his chest and he gives a slight shake of his head and I can tell it’s taking all his willpower not to blow up.

 

“Where is Skylar?” Lynn asks and Justin growls again, ripping the curtain back.

 

He snatches a towel from the rack, wrapping it quickly around his waist, heading to the door. I step further back into the shower with a gasp as he swings the door open.

 

“Oh hi honey,” Lynn says jovially. “Where’s Sky?”

 

“She’s here,” Justin says and I cringe, the twenty-three year old in me still deathly afraid Lynn will rip me apart with her bare hands for defiling her son.

 

“Oh, where? I didn’t see her in the house,” Lynn asks and I peek my head out from behind the curtain, holding it against me to cover my nakedness.

 

“Hi Lynn,” I say smiling awkwardly and Justin is standing there, his head hanging back as if he can’t really believe this is happening to him and I know it’s taking everything in him to keep his patience.

 

“Oh…” his mother says, her voice surprised and a little strained. “Well, hey. You and I need to sit down and catch up.”

 

My fingers tighten around the shower curtain as she smiles at me and that’s not just any smile. That is the pleasant smile of a woman who is determined to find out just what exactly is going on between her son and I. Her smile says “you will tell me everything or I will drag it out of you.” I swallow hard.

 

“Mom…please,” Justin says heaving a sigh and closing the door a little.

 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt,” Lynn says, wringing her hands and chuckling awkwardly. I give her a tight smile, clutching the shower curtain tightly.

 

“I know.” Justin closes the door a little more.

 

“I just wanted to make sure things were going okay.”

 

“They’re not,” he says, closing the door a little more.

 

“Why?” Lynn asks her voice high with concern.

 

“MOTHER! WHAT IS HAPPENING RIGHT NOW?!” he exclaims, finally breaking and Lynn and I both jump at his outburst.

 

“I’m sorry honey I’m going,” Lynn says sighing and reaching to pat the side of his face affectionately. He sighs. “Bye Skylar.”

 

“Bye,” I reply weakly as Justin shuts the door and stands there, chest heaving, the anger and frustration emanating off him. “Jus-”

 

“Don’t,” he says, cutting me off, his voice low. “Just…” he sighs, “just don’t.”

 

“Baby-”

 

“No!” he exclaims as he turns to face me, his voice echoing harshly in the small room and I silence instantly, ducking my head slightly. “I worked really hard. I planned…” his voice is quiet and he almost seems to be talking to himself. I’ve never seen him like this before, barely controlled and seemingly at his wits end. “I planned… I…I made lists! Look!” he bends down to grab his jeans and pulls out a wad of papers, his untidy scrawl barely visible.

 

“You made lists?” I ask carefully, unable to mask the smile in my voice. He is too freaking cute sometimes.

 

“YES!” he exclaims, his eyes widening. “LISTS!” he throws them in the air and I jump as they flutter to the floor around him like confetti. “I worked hard and I planned and I made fucking lists.” He grumbles and his voice takes on that barely controlled edge again. “I wanted everything to be perfect but I burned dinner… and… the studio,” he growls, “and that goddamn ticket and the fucking ants! I mean WHAT?” he’s yelling now, his face turning red and all I can do is listen to him fall to pieces. He sighs, his hands flailing as he whines, “I get we’re kinda weird. You know…you were my teacher and I’m…I’m younger than you and this is kinda crazy,” he laughs, a maniacal edge to it and I just stare at him wide eyed. “Us together is crazy. After all these years, it’s fucking nuts but goddammit…” he sighs, his shoulders slumping, hanging his head, his voice weak as he finally loses steam. “I just wanted it to be perfect.”

 

I just watch him for a moment, marveling at him and how much he cares. He’s always cared so much, more than me for the most part and now, now I’m able to really appreciate him. I’m able to look at him and see the man he is and the man he wants to be for me. And I want him to see that I love him for that. I want him to see that I appreciate it and cherish it and it’s so fucking important to me now. I know it wasn’t really before, or I wouldn’t let it be before, but it is now. It always has been, really. I’ve loved him always. I’ll never stop.

 

His chest is still heaving slightly, his ears red now, embarrassed by his outburst. He’s scowling at the floor, his bottom lip protruding slightly and I haven’t seen him make that face since that summer so many years ago. I find I’ve missed it, even though I’m glad he’s grown into a more masculine maturity, I really believe I missed his pout. I do the only thing I can at this realization. I giggle softly.

 

“And now you’re laughing at me,” he sighs turning away from me and I try to stop.

 

“No! Justin,” I exclaim, laughter still bubbling in my voice, “It’s…it’s adorable.”

 

“I don’t want to be adorable!” he whines and stomps his foot. He actually stomps his foot. I bite my lip hard, doing everything I can to bite back my laughter but it’s not enough.

 

“Well, you are,” I say smiling softly at him. “Come here.”

 

“No,” he says, crossing his arms over his chest. “No this whole thing is just fucking doomed. We need to give up.”

 

He throws his hands in the air and opens the door, slipping out of the bathroom. I gasp in alarm, reaching down and turning off the shower, grabbing for a towel and stumbling quickly after him. Doomed? How can he say we’re doomed?

 

“Justin-”

 

“No! No, no no,” he says stubbornly, raising a hand to me as he crosses the Great room and starts up the stairs. “No.”

 

He’s shaking his head, his feet stomping the stairs as he makes his ascent and I realize this isn’t about us, this is about what we’ve been trying to do all damn day. I purse my lips as I follow him up the steps, taking two at a time, determined. He is not quitting on me now. We are gonna do this. I don’t care if I have to hold him down. We’re doing this.

 

I approach his bedroom and he’s in his closet, towel balled up on the floor, pawing through his underwear drawer, his back to me. My breath catches in my throat as I take in the tan expanse of his back, his broad shoulders, tiny waist and even smaller ass. My pussy throbs. I need him now.

 

“Justin-”

 

“No,” he responds, shaking out a pair of briefs and prepares to step into them.

 

“Justin, you’re being ridiculous,” I huff and he stops, turning to face me and it’s everything I can do to bite back a moan at the sight of him naked in front of me, my very own Greek god.

 

“Am I Skylar? Am I really?” he asks, throwing his underwear to the floor and striding out towards me, standing in the middle of his bedroom, buck ass naked. “I just wanted to be with you,” he says pitifully, his shoulders slumping and his wall comes down, finally letting me really see him. “Me and you, that’s what I wanted.”

 

I step to him, reaching to touch his face. “We are together.”

 

“I wanted for us to be together,” he says earnestly as if he hadn’t even heard me, his blue eyes wide and searching mine, “because we never could before…”

 

And in that moment, I see him, seventeen years old and holding onto me as tightly as he could, holding onto us, wishing he could change things. Wishing he was older, wishing I was just another girl in his class instead of his teacher. I feel his desperation and frustration, his furious desire to make it right. To fix us so nothing will ever break us again, to make us fit seamlessly together and for everything to be perfect so we’ll never have to be apart. My heart aches at the realization that he’s still so desperately afraid of losing me.

 

“Justin,” I say softly, my hands cupping his face and he won’t look at me, his eyes trained resolutely on the floor. “Justin…look at me.”

 

His blue eyes flick to mine and he swallows hard. I smile softly at him, stroking his cheek and his eyes close, pressing his face into my hand and my stomach trembles when he looks at me again, love so fierce, so deep staring back at me.

 

“We’re together,” I say, nodding at him and he still looks uncertain.

 

“I can’t lose you again,” he breathes, his voice raw with emotion and my heart aches with his sincerity.

 

“I’m not going anywhere. I need you. God I need you,” I breathe, my entire body tensing with the words. “It’s you, Jus,” I breathe, my thumb stroking his cheekbone. “It’s always been you. It was you then and it’s you now and it will never, ever stop being you. I love you. I’m never going to quit.”

 

His arms wrap around me tightly, crushing our bodies together and my arms wrap around his waist, palms pressing flat against the roundest part of his back, my towel falling to our feet. His hand moves to the back of my head, pressing my face to his shoulder, holding me tight and I can’t help the goose bumps that break out over my skin, feeling him pressed against me so close, my entire body begging for him still. Even after all these years I still can’t get enough of him.

 

I press my lips to his shoulder and then to his collarbone, following it with my tongue until it dips into the base of his throat, my lips dragging up, feeling his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows hard. My lips suck at that sweet spot just below his ear and he shivers hard, his large hands closing around my biceps and pulling me away from him. I whine softly, nails scratching at his back and he looks down at me uncertainly.

 

“Sky, maybe this is a bad idea,” he says and my eyebrows race to my hairline.

 

“Justin,” I say chuckling. “I’m naked and willing. Since when have you said no to that?”

 

“Well, never,” Justin says, his face conflicted and he sighs. “I can’t get hard again without getting off, Sky. I can’t. I don’t have it in me.”

 

I laugh my forehead falling to his shoulder and he chuckles a little himself, one large hand running over my hair affectionately.

 

“You’ll get off, baby,” I say softly, my nails scratching softly down his back and he shivers, my lips pecking along his chest. He grips my arms again.

 

“But…but we’ve been trying all damn day,” he sighs, hissing as my tongue finds one of his nipples.

 

I moan. “God I know,” I pant, my fingers lining with his ribs before smoothing down to his hips.

 

“I…I really can’t take it…” he breathes and swallows hard as my hand closes around him, feeling him lengthen against my palm.

 

“Justin we’re all alone now,” I breathe against his neck, nibbling at the crook of his shoulder. “No more interruptions.”

 

“Yeah but with our luck the roof will cave in or something,” he pants and we both simultaneously look up at the arced ceiling, the exposed wood beams hanging ominously in the open air.

 

I shake my head. This is ridiculous.

 

“I don’t care,” I say simply, releasing him to wrap my arms around his neck, crushing my mouth to his.

 

I whimper against his lips at the feeling of him pressed against my lower belly and he moans, tugging me tighter against him, his hands smoothing down my back to grip my ass in his hands. My tongue slides wetly against his, hands delving into his hair as I ravage his mouth and he just stands there and takes it, letting me devour him.

 

All day, all damn day I’ve dreamed of this and the waiting has made me impatient, hands sliding down his chest and then back up, gripping his shoulders so I can maneuver him over to the bed. He lets out a small yelp of surprise when the backs of his legs hit the mattress, tumbling backwards onto the sheets and I climb over him instantly, crawling with him as he scoots so his head falls back against the pillows. He reaches out to me but I catch his wrists, gripping and pinning them next to his head and he struggles a little before smirking up at me.

 

“You gonna hold me down Sky?” he asks, licking his lips, his eyes dark. “You gonna have your way with me?”

 

A flash of heat travels through me and I can’t respond, only press my mouth to his again, tongue sliding against his. His hips lift slightly as he moans against my lips, his dick brushing my thigh and I nearly choke from want. I need him now. I find him, feeling him slide against my wetness and his eyes roll back in his head, nails digging into his palms as he aligns with my entrance. I throw my head back, crying out as I allow my body to slide slowly onto his, taking him in inch by inch, savoring every second.

 

My body trembles over him and it’s all I can do to just breathe, the pleasure so intense, the closeness almost unbearable. He’s the only one it’s ever been this way with. He’s the only one. His wrists turn in my hands and he’s gripping my palms, fingers threading through mine and I open my eyes to find him gazing up at me glassily, his eyes deep and blue and he knows. He always knows.

 

My fingers tighten around his, my hips lifting just slightly before sliding back down and my eyes slide shut, head hanging back as pleasure ripples through me, shivering at the soft moan that wafts from his lips. I do it again and again until it becomes subconscious, the only thing on my mind being the way he’s making me feel, his body sliding in and out of mine.

 

He’s still staring up at me, his eyes glassy, his jaw slightly slack as his breath comes in ragged pants. His hands squeeze mine before untangling his fingers and reaching for my waist, his hands sliding up my sides and then smoothing around, meeting at my back. He skims them back around to my stomach, his palms gliding up to cup my breasts, molding them slowly. My head falls back and I moan, nails scraping down his arms before smoothing back up, gripping his shoulders for support. His every touch is fire, every brush of his fingers is like someone takes a match to my skin and I burn with the intensity of the pleasure he gives me, the sensation tingling over my skin and directly to my pussy as it takes him in over and over again.

 

His hands cup my neck before wiping down over the breadth of my shoulders, slipping down my arms, fingertips brushing the delicate skin of my inner elbow, skittering down to wrap around my wrists and squeezing before one hand reaches for my hip. His fingers dig into my flesh, urging me faster while his other hand reaches to touch my face, his calloused fingertips brushing my cheek before he cups my jaw, letting his thumb smudge against my bottom lip.

 

“Oh god,” I breathe softly, panting as the pleasure rolls in soft waves but the current running through my veins is strong and violent and I can feel it starting to build. “Oh god…Jus…”

 

He lets go of my jaw, his hand smoothing down my neck, his breath hitching with each twitch of my hips, whimpering softly as his palm flattens against my chest, smoothing down the valley between my breasts to grasp at my hip, both his hands holding me firmly, moving me over him. His head tips back, his tanned skin stretching tight over the long column of his neck as he moans.

 

“Sky,” he gasps, his head falling to the side, gritting his teeth, his stomach muscles contracting and expanding beneath his velvety skin, a thin sheen of sweat covering his body. “Skylar please.”

 

I growl, hooking my ankles around his legs and lean back just slightly, my fingers lining with his ribs as I push myself from him and tug myself back down, crying out as he nudges that spot inside me only he can hit, shivering as the pleasure bubbles so close to the surface. I gasp as the first shocks hit me, my body sucking at him trying to take him deeper and he whines, his back arching, hips pressing up into mine. My entire body trembles, fingers scratching weakly at his sides, hips working furiously and I’m so close. Its right there and all I need is…

 

Justin growls, his hands flying from my hips to the mattress and I gasp as he propels himself forward, his legs widening as he sits up. I slip up his thighs and slide directly into his lap, my clit bumping his hip bone and that’s all it takes. I scream, my voice echoing off the walls, his name tearing from my throat as my nails tear down his back, clutching onto him as my body convulses over and over again, pleasure hot as lava scalding through my veins.

 

He gasps, fingers digging hard into my spine, whimpering softly into my hair. He gasps again, clutching me tighter, one hand flying up to hold the back of my head, pressing my face against his shoulder as he comes violently, his back going ridged under my palms, my name tumbling from his lips in breathless whispers.

 

We’re both trembling hard, holding on to each other for dear life as we struggle to breathe and to think. His grip on me lessens just slightly, allowing himself to pull back to rest his forehead against mine, his breath panting against my lips. I crush my mouth to his, ignoring the burn in my lungs. I need him more than I need air.

 

He finally rips his mouth away, panting hard, his nose nuzzling against mine before allowing his body to fall back and I tumble forward onto his chest before letting my body slide off him, the sheets cool against my heated skin. His arm curls around my shoulder, his opposite hand grabbing for my hip and tugging me flush against his side, sighing contentedly when my cheek rests over his heart.

 

The room is darkening now, night tugging the daylight from the room and I’m content just to lay with him, to have him hold me against him and never move. Tomorrow is the Fourth of July and I think his friends are supposed to come over to grill out, have a pool party, something festive but I don’t really care. This is all I want right here. Him with me, his fingers combing through my hair, his heart thudding against my cheek.

 

And then I see it again, on his bedside table, sitting innocuously next to his alarm clock. I press my palm to his chest, grunting as I push off him to reach for the hair clip and I settle back against him, opening and closing the claw, careful of the chip in the back. I look up at him, finding his eyes wide and his cheeks pinken as he avoids my gaze.

 

“Um…I can explain that,” he stutters softly and I grin, resting my chin on his chest and looking up at him. “It’s…it’s…”

 

“Mine,” I say simply, clasping and unclasping it and his blush deepens.

 

“You left it in my bathroom,” he says softly, reaching to take it from me, holding it gingerly. “I had taken it out and clasped it on the shower rod that one time we…”

 

“I remember,” I say, smiling giddily at the memory and he grins at me.

 

“I kept meaning to give it back to you,” he says, opening and closing the claw gently, slowly, as if he’s afraid it will break. “I kept forgetting and then…then…” He stops, heaving a sigh like he always does when it comes to this part. “then it was all I had.”

 

My arm smoothes across his stomach, clutching his waist and hugging him tight, pressing my cheek hard against his chest. I still hate that it came to that. I hate that I had to leave him. I hate that I hurt him. He sighs, pressing his lips to the top of my head, nuzzling his nose in my hair. I like to think that I’ve changed since then. That if it happened now I wouldn’t just give up. I would fight harder and push farther. I would be better. I like to think that while I’m still weak when it comes to him, I’m strong when it comes to us. I’ll never let him go again.

 

“I can’t believe you kept it all these years,” I say, my fingers tracing over the backs of his hands as he holds the clip gently.

 

He chuckles. “It’s a little worse for the ware but it’s still good,” he says, reaching back to twist my hair up off my neck and he secures it to the back of my head. “See!”

 

I grin at him, my mouth pressing to his and I love him. I couldn’t stop if I tried. I have tried…and here I am ten years later in his bed, right where I belong.

 

We jump slightly as a loud boom echoes through the room and our heads lift to see light flickering in through the open doors to the balcony. It happens again. And again, red and blue light splashing across the walls in short bursts. Justin grins.

 

“You know…I’ve always seen fireworks when I kissed you but this is kinda ridiculous,” he chuckles.

 

I laugh, pressing my mouth to his again, still seeing the colors behind my eyes, his kiss leaving me breathless. He rolls me underneath him and I grin. I think it’s about time we ignited some fireworks of our own.