Callie crouched in the corner of a booth, in the back of the bustling restaurant, attempting to enjoy a quick lunch and some time alone. She had offered to stay with Paula or to go home while JC worked on his samples for the meeting, but he wanted her there, for some reason, so she stayed. Watching him work was both fascinating and frustrating, as he pored and worried over a note here, a chord there, a lyric here, a word there. He wanted perfection, but it wouldn't come. Callie tried to get away for a few hours a day, to give him time and space to work and think in peace.

She hadn't reviewed her songs in a long while, so she savored the opportunity, and the wide table, to spread out with a cup of coffee and allow the changes in her life to breathe new meaning to old lyrics. Head down, ear buds in, Callie was oblivious to the world around her and was quite surprised to look up and find a familiar face sitting across from her.

“Curtis,” she mumbled, startled, yanking the ear buds from her ear, gathering her pages spread about the table.

“Callie,” he said with a nod, perusing the mess she was cleaning up. “Doing some writing?”

“A little,” she said, eyeing him. His very presence made her a little insecure—what was he here for, this time? “What do you want?”

He shrugged one shoulder. Callie noted how tired he looked. He hadn't shaven in days, his eyes were red from lack of sleep and had dark heavy bags underneath them. His hair, which he took great pride in, was stringy and unkempt. Curtis did not look good. “Just saw you over here,” he said. “Thought I'd say hi. I'm not... I'm not here to harass you.”

“I'm not in the mood for anything you have to say, Curt. We aren't friends.”

“I know. I know,” he raised both hands, palms up, in a gesture of surrender. “And I'm cool with that. I was an asshole and I know it.” He paused and motioned to the waitress for a glass of water. She brought it, and a straw, setting them in front of him. He played with the straw, his fingers shaking, and took long gulps of the ice water.

“What's wrong? You don't look good. Are you sick or something?”

“No,” he said, his eyes downcast. Then he looked up at her, his eyes shining with unshed tears. “Mikey is, though.”

Callie gasped. Mikey was the bass player for Soul Train, a completely lovable man with a heart of gold. Mike and Curtis had been friends since they were children. No one knew Curtis like Mike did, and vice versa.

“What's wrong with Mikey?”

“Some kind of infection. It's pretty serious. He's at Cedars. I just came down here to grab a quick bite. Cafeteria sucks up there.” His voice was gruff, gravelly, low. She considered that he could be lying, but he looked too haggard to be lying.

Callie's expression softened, and she reached across the table and grasped his hand. “I'm sorry to hear that, Curtis. Give my best to him, okay?”

He nodded, squeezed her hand briefly, and then let go. “Would mean a lot to him if you stopped by. You know, if you get the chance. I know you're... busy and stuff.”

“Yeah,” Callie said. “I'll definitely stop by. Thanks for letting me know. So... the tour?”

“Had to cut it short. Truthfully the nonstop touring probably did it to him. Sucks.” Curtis cursed under his breath and sat back against the plush backing of the seat. “How are things with you and... what's his name?”

“JC. You know his name is JC. Don't start, Curtis.”

“JC. Yeah. Sorry. I haven't slept in a couple days, I just... I couldn't think. I'm really not trying to...” His voice trailed off as he stared out the window at nothing, tapping the side of his empty glass. “I think about you, a lot. You know? Like, I see pictures of you and... JC... here and there. Seeing a movie. Walking the park. Going to a club, hanging out, whatever. And I see him laughing. And you laughing. And I remember what it was like, when it was good. Remember?”

Callie nodded. “Yeah. I do.” And she did. She remembered when it was very good, when her world was Curtis, and she was his and they stayed up late at night talking and laughing and relating and getting along. Those days had been long since over.

“And I mean. I don't know,” he was saying. “I guess I let a lot of stuff go to my head, and the money, and everything... I started to believe the hype people wrote about me.”

“Me too. Actually. Maybe we're both better off, now that we're not together.”

“I'm not,” Curtis said, his voice cracking with sadness. “I miss you. A lot. I miss when we were friends and we had fun. You're a lot of fun, Cal. I miss that. I was gonna say... when I see pictures of you and JC, I'm jealous. When I saw you in New York, you looked good. Real good. Like, the best I've seen you in a long time, almost like when we met. And I was a dick, because I was jealous. Like that would make you come back to me.”

“I wish I could say the same, Curt,” Callie said, shaking her head. “But... it wasn't good for so long. I was miserable and we stayed together much longer than we should have.”

“I know. That's my fault.”

“Not just your fault. My fault, too,” she insisted, pointing at herself. “I wasn't blameless at all. I just should have had the strength to know that I was killing us, too.”

“I loved you, Cal. I did. You can believe me or not, but I did. I still do. And, I know you've moved on, and I think JC is great for you, if he can bring out that fun side of you again. I just wanted to say that.”

“Thanks. I’m surprised to hear that, but thanks.” Callie began to gather the rest of her songs and file them away while Curtis looked on.

“Write anything new lately? You always were a good songwriter. I liked your album. Picked it up the day it came out.”

Surprised, she froze, her eyes wide. “Really. Wow. I guess I'm flattered. No, I haven't written anything in awhile. I guess my brain is on vacation, or something. I toured and then took a break and JC might be getting back to music, so...” she shrugged.

“You writing for him? You should, if you're not.”

Callie chuckled to herself. “He's a pretty good songwriter, himself. I'm sure he doesn't need my help.”

“You were sure you didn't need his.” Curtis raised an eyebrow and drained his glass of ice. Crunching, he slipped out of the booth, bent over to her and touched his cheek to hers. “I want to get back to Mikey. Visiting hours are 'till seven. Stop by, okay? Good seeing you.”

And then he was gone.

Callie blinked, motionless for a few minutes. She'd had the first civil conversation with Curtis in over a year. He said he missed her, loved her, was jealous. In no way did she want him back, but part of her felt sorry for him, made her heart break a little. He seemed so very unhappy.

A stop into the loft and a visit with her friend and mentor was long overdue, so Callie dropped in to visit with Paula for a few minutes. She was riveted by the story of the surprise visit from Curtis. A lover of drama, she sucked every drop out of the chance meeting.

“Oh my God. So he looked really bad? Like really bad?” Paula set a tall glass of iced tea in front of Callie and sipped her own, settling into the couch.

“Yeah, but not like 'yay he looks horrible, and I won cause I'm doing better'. I mean, he looks really bad.”

“Wow. And so, what did he say was up with Mikey?”

Callie sipped and shrugged. “Infection, or something? I might stop by tomorrow. If he's lying, I will kick myself, but I don't think he is. He wouldn't lie about Mikey.”

“You'd better tell JC you saw him. You don't want him to hear from anyone else that you were canoodling with your ex.” Paula winked, teasing her.

“Oh, he doesn't care. He knows I don't want Curtis.”

“Ah,” she said, lifting a finger. “But he knows that Curtis wants you. If he didn't want you, he'd have never said those things to you in New York, trying to get under your skin.”

“Yeah, I guess. He admitted as much, anyway. So... Curtis said I should write for JC.”

“You should. You're not?”

“Well, no. Why would I write for a songwriter? Won't he be offended?”

“Just because you took it personally doesn't mean he will. And he doesn't have to use the song if he doesn't like it. I can't see him recording a song just because you wrote it.”

“No. He's just barely recording songs he wrote.” Callie said, rolling her eyes and leaning back on the couch, head propped on her elbow. She shook her head as she thought about the slow progress he was making, methodically trying to perfect every piece instead of just letting the piece be imperfect and have character.

“I don't know. I could write something. I guess. And he wouldn't have to use it,” she mused, thinking.

“Well, yeah, and he might hate it, you never know.” Paula attempted to hold a straight face, but a smile burst though, followed by a loud giggle. Callie picked up a large, soft cushion from the couch and lobbed it at her.

“He's required to love everything I write. If he hates it, I'm dumping him.”

###

The next few days, Callie hardly saw JC. He was either in the studio at home or in the city, or he was home and doing nothing, and she was working, doing interviews, guest spots, photo shoots or in meetings. Jive was hinting toward not wanting to wait too long for a new album to hit the stands, and while Callie was usually inclined to agree, she wasn't in a very big hurry to get back to the process. She was being selfish, but she wanted JC free and clear to work with her so she was dragging her feet until he was available, no matter how long it took. Unless they forced her to release earlier than that, she had no intention of moving on without him.

To pass the time, and because he was willing, Tyler offered to spend a day with Callie and she took him up on the offer. The day was sunny and warm, not too hot, not very smoggy, and the sky was a clear and pretty blue. Callie finally had to admit to herself that she did enjoy the weather, and when LA was good, it was really, really good. Tyler showed her a great time and she saw places that she would enjoy visiting, not that JC necessarily wanted to show her.

They got along famously, laughing easily and talking loud and long. Tyler was gregarious, outgoing, and a little lovesick, when it came to Callie. He blushed at the slightest touch and stumbled over his words when they talked. Other tell tale signs made Callie laugh and she played off of it well. She thought it was cute and he didn't seem to mind a little good-natured ribbing over it.

“Can I ask you a personal question, Callie?” Tyler veered off of the path they were walking and took a seat on the park bench, chipping mindlessly at the worn green paint.

“You'll have to 'off'' Josh before I'll marry you. I won't leave him for you.” Callie smirked and stole a glance at Tyler from behind her sunglasses.

He blushed, and looked away briefly, then back to her. “Not that. But sort of that. You love him, right?”

“Right.”

“I mean, really.” He was serious, his eyes told her.

“Yeah, Tyler,” she said softly. “Really. He's—he's everything I never knew I needed and never thought I wanted and I've never, ever had. I love him more than anything.”

“Good. Because he's a cool guy. I mean, you know that. Just. You know. You know.” He shrugged.

“Yeah,” Callie nodded, smiled over at him. “I know.”

 “Be good to him. I don’t think you have any idea what you mean to him. Okay?”

“I intend to, Tyler. I promise.”

The day passed too quickly, and the pair headed back to the house. JC was awake and not in the studio, enjoying having the place to himself.

“Hey, there you guys are,” he said with a wave from the couch where he was lounging. Callie leaned to give him a quick peck. “You have fun? Where'd you go?”

Tyler piped up. “I took her to lunch. Walked around UCLA a little bit, she wanted to see the campus. Hung out, took a walk through the Japanese gardens. I think she’s tired of looking at me now so I’m leaving. I'm leading a study group tonight.”

“Tyler, I loved spending time with you. Thanks for keeping me company.” Callie sent him a sweet smile that made him blush, and he shyly ambled down the stairs and out to his car.

“You're so mean.” JC said, pinching her.

“Ow! What?” Callie whined, pinching him back.

“He has a crush on you. You know that. Why do you encourage the kid?”

“Oh, was the smile too much? Or are you jealous?” She winked at him. “I remember a time when I could flirt with your brother and you wouldn’t say a word. My, how people change.”

“You flirt with each other in front of me.”

“So, now what? You have to work, or can you spoil me tonight? You've been working so hard. I'm neglected,” she whined.

“I don't spoil you. What do you want to do? Watch a movie? We could go hang out. Or uh...” He wiggled his eyebrows and wrapped both arms around her. “We could go upstairs.”

“Subtle, JC. Very subtle,” she said, unwrapping herself from him his arms and reaching for the folded newspaper that sat on the coffee table. “What’s showing? I’ll pick the movie, you suck at it. We'll end up seeing something that's not even in English.”

###

“Shit. Hang on a sec, honey.” JC stepped in front of Callie and she followed him out of the theater, illuminated by explosions of bright light-- flashbulbs-- and shouts from photographers trying to get a closeup photo.

'JC! What's going on? JC over here! What did you see? Did you enjoy the show? Is that Callie Phelps? Are you guys an item? How long have you two been together?'

JC ignored the questions but pushed through politely. “Hey, guys you mind? That flash is bright. Can we get through here? Appreciate that, thanks, man.” The gaggle of press followed them a few steps down the block toward the parking structure before they found another, more interesting face.

Callie blinked through the spots in her vision until it returned. “Shit. That so doesn't happen at home. I can't get used to that.” JC put an arm around her as they walked to his car.

“You okay? Can you see? Sorry about that.”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she said, rubbing her eyes and blinking. “I guess we're not a secret anymore.”

“Nope, I guess not.” He seemed unfazed as he backed out of the space and pulled out onto the street. “ Are you hungry?”

“Starving.”

JC found a quiet, out of the way restaurant and asked for a booth in the back. They sat in a cozy corner of the family style establishment and talked and laughed and sang along to the old school music.

“What do you know about Kriss Kross, my cute little rocker chick?” JC was amused as Callie rapped along with the popular 90's tune.

“I know it's wiggety whack, that's what I know,” she said, laughing her eyes sparkling. “This was every eighth grade dance, like every third song. This, and 'Motownphilly', and like, I don't know, 'Jump Around', and 'Bust a Move'. I was quite down in my youth.”

JC threw his head back and laughed, a loud, full, warm sound. “Yeah,” he said, when he could catch a breath. “You dance pretty well for a rock chick. You should do a hip hop crossover on your next album.”

“I'm not that down, babe. Besides, I'm not talking about my album until you have one,” she shot back.

“Touche`,” he responded and sipped his drink, watching her bounce to the beat of the song that crackled out of the speakers above them.

A tall, lanky, dark haired man with a goatee and wearing a beret stopped at the table on his way out. “JC? Long time no see, man!” He extended a hand and he and they exchanged greetings. “Good to see you, you’ve been gone awhile.”

“I've been around, you know I live in the studio, man. How are things with you?”

“Good, man. Real good, working on an album. I would love if we could get together and write some stuff, maybe work on some music together?”

“That sounds good. I’m up for that, anytime.”

“You're Callie Phelps.” He pointed at her, and smiled in her direction.

“Oh,” JC said, remembering that he wasn't alone. “I’m sorry, excuse me, yeah this Callie. Callie, you have no clue who this is, do you?”

Callie shook her head. “He looks familiar. I’m sure this handsome gentleman won’t mind introducing himself,” she said, extending her hand. He took it and kissed the back of it, his lips brushing her hand lightly. Callie blushed and JC rolled his eyes.

“AJ McLean. Backstreet Boy for many years. ‘Nsync and Backstreet started on the same label, with the same management, and then we switched to Jive. And then they switched to Jive. Always a step behind,” he joked, winking at JC.

“Oh! Well, it’s nice to meet you. I knew the groups, but faces, they all run together.”

AJ laughed and bobbed his head. “Understood. Sometimes it's nice to work with someone who has no clue who you used to be. Am I right, JC?”

JC glanced at Callie and winked. “Absolutely.” He looked back up at AJ. “Well, you have my number, man. Gimme a call, I’ll write, produce, whatever you need, okay?” They shook hands again and AJ left the table.

Callie grinned as the next song started, and sang while she finished her entrée, dancing in her seat. ' I can't sleep at night/ I toss and turn/ listenin' for the telephone/ 'When I get your call/ I'm all choked up/ can't believe you called my home..'

JC continued, 'As a matter of fact/ it blows my mind/ that you would even talk to me/Cause a girl like you/ is like a dream come true/ a real life fantasy'

Together, they finished, 'No matter what your friends try to tell ya/ we were made to fall in love/and we will be together, any kinda weather/ it's like that, it's like that/ Every little step I take...'

Callie snorted and JC laughed at her. “I bet I can still do the dance to this song,” she said, giggling.

“Oh, I have to see this,” he said. “When we get home. You'll put on your bike shorts and suspenders and do the Bobby Brown dance.”

“And red socks. Oh God. For all I know that's some kind of sexual fantasy you have.”

An eyebrow rose slowly and he shrugged. “I'm not saying it won't be sexy, honey.”

“You’re not nice. You’re mean. Picking on me.” Callie pretended to pout and pushed her plate away. “I’m so full. I have some calories to work off, later. You have to be nice to me, though.”

“When am I ever not nice to you?”

Callie reached across the table to pat his hand. “You are the nicest man I know. I love you.”

Surprised at her sudden, and increasingly frequent, show of emotion, he laid a hand on top of hers. “I love you, too. Are you really done? Can we go?”

“I am really done, we can go. You might have to carry me out.”

“Almost gave myself a hernia doing that last week,” he said, ducking in time to miss her swat at him.

“Are you saying I'm heavy? Fucker.”

“I’m just playing with you.”

They reached the car, and he opened her door and held it for her. She stood in the opening before getting in. “Are you lying to make me feel better?”

“Nope. I do not lie to you. Haven’t. Won’t. Ever.” He leaned in and brushed his lips against hers. “Get in the car. Hurry up, woman.”

She obeyed and he closed the door, making sure the seatbelt automatically secured her inside. He got in and turned the ignition and the radio came on, playing softly. The familiar strains of *Nsync’s ‘Girlfriend’ came through the speakers.

“Hey, it’s us.” He reached to turn the station but Callie stopped him.

“Leave it. I like this song.”

He stared at her for a few seconds and she shrugged one shoulder. “At least you have good taste.”

He pulled out of the parking lot and headed for the main road that would take them to the house. He found himself humming along to the tune.

“Do you miss it, JC?” Callie thought maybe he couldn't hear her. He didn't say anything for a long while, until well after the song went off.

“You know, I used to miss it, a lot,” he said out of the blue, minutes later. “But now, not so much being with the group but those guys were my best friends, companions for ten years. It was all I knew, for a long time. And then all of a sudden it was… gone. It took some adjusting. We’re still friends, you know. We still see each other. I think I am who I am on my own because of what working with those guys taught me, but I was ready to grow and do some other things. When I was there, I was there. Once I was gone, I wanted the chance to do the music I really wanted to do.”

“Do any of the others miss it?”

“I think it was a rough transition for all of us. Justin, too. Joey and Lance had a hard time with it. They put a lot on hold, with the hope that we were coming back together, you know? I think Joey just threw himself into whatever he could do. He HAS to work. He has too much energy to sit around the pool the rest of his life. And his wife would kill him if he was around a lot anyway. Chris though…” A pained expression crossed his face as he stared out into the night.

“Chris needs people. He couldn't deal with being alone and uh... he’s a good guy but it took its toll on him. He started drinking a lot. Got into some stuff, he wasn’t doing too well for awhile but he’s got some great friends that smacked him around and was like ‘man, what the fuck are you doing to yourself? ”

“It's nice to have people around like that when you're sinking.”

“Or people to tell you not to be scared, do what you want,” he said, glancing over at her, wearing a slight grin.

“Oh yeah, I was a mess, “Callie said sarcastically. “And then you came along. My Producer Man.”

He laughed, reached over to her seat and squeezed her hand. “You’re sexy when you’re humble.”

“We must be close to the house – you’re flirting. I’m a sure thing, baby. Don’t suck up.”

“I’m not flirting,” he said, grinning and glancing over at her, her face illuminated in the passing streetlights. “I'm naturally this charming. I wondered if I was gettin’ some.”

Callie scoffed, incredulous. “In the history of dating me, have I ever turned you down?” She squeezed his hand in return. “Hurry up, I’m horny.”

“Well there was that one time, in New York. It sounds like I’m in trouble tonight, though. Good thing I’ve been workin’ out.”

The massive garage door slowly opened as he pulled into the driveway. Tyler’s car sat in its spot.

“Uh, oh,” he said in a sing-song voice. “Looks like someone has to practice her inside voice tonight.”

Callie walked inside the house and up the stairs, JC on her heels. Tyler was in the living room, asleep and stretched out on the couch, remote resting on his belly. She winked at JC and leaned over him, leaving a light kiss on his forehead. His eyes fluttered open at the touch and he looked up at her and smiled. Callie smiled back. “Hey, Tyler,” she said, moving around to sit next to him.

“Hey,” he yawned, sitting up. “Where'd you guys go?’

“Movie, and then we ate at Rose's,” JC answered. “If I knew you were home we would have called you. Hey, Callie met AJ tonight.”

“Really? Be careful, you're turning into a pop tart.”

“Shut up, both of you,” Callie said, glaring at one, and then the other. “Are you home for the night?”

“Yeah, B had a date. So I came home after study group. You need me to vacate?”

“No, no no,” Callie protested, embarrassed. “You live here. You don’t have to keep leaving. I'm going upstairs, though. JC, I'll see you up there?”

“Yeah, few minutes honey.”

A few minutes later, JC climbed the stairs, unbuttoning as he went. He closed the bedroom door behind him and was pleasantly surprised to find Callie already in panties and bra, sitting on the bed, waiting. “Well,” he said, a slow grin spreading across his face. “Hi there, sexy. I guess I won't shower first.”

She blushed and smoothed down her flyaway hair, then put a finger to her lips. She rose to her knees and reached out to him as he unbuttoned his shirt. He stopped and stood in front of her and let her finish, pushing it off of his shoulders, and dropping it to the floor. She gestured toward his t-shirt and he pulled it up and over his head while she worked at the button fly of his jeans. He was already aroused, straining against the buttons, and they gave easily. She pushed them down his hips and he stepped out of them. Callie moved over so he could join her on the bed, then motioned him to lay down, straddling him. He grinned and happily complied.

Her hands wandered his body-- from his broad shoulders to his rock hard abdominals to his slight waist., tracing the thin path of hair from his belly into his briefs. She took a hand in each of hers and placed one on each breast, still encased within the thin lace bra. His thumbs rubbed at erect nipples as they rose and poked through the fabric. Callie's eyes closed and her mouth fell open as her hips began to roll and gently grind into him. He let out a ragged breath and his hips arched up to meet her.

She increased the speed at which she ground into him and braced herself with her hands on his chest. She caught his eye, and smiled, her bottom lip wedged between her teeth and moved her hips against him. He smiled back and moved his hips up into her. Callie felt a climax on the horizon and closed her eyes, trying not moan. He gripped her hips tightly and moved her against him, thrusting up into her. He breathed in hard gasps, beads of sweat forming on his forehead. She opened her eyes to find him staring at her, in deep concentration. ‘Come’, he mouthed.

Callie gasped as her orgasm overtook her. A bead of sweat rolled down her back as hips continued to roll, eeking out every second of absolute pleasure. She nearly bit a hole in her lip, trying not to scream as she reached the highest point of climax, hips jerking violently, head tossed back, nails digging into skin. She slowed, then stopped, out of breath and caressing the skin on his chest where she had scratched him. He barely noticed.

JC rolled her over and slipped off his briefs, then her panties and positioned himself above her. Her legs wrapped around him and she felt him push into her and then build to a pleasurable, steady rhythm. She raised her eyes to his face, smiled and silently giggled. He mouthed ‘shhhh’ and bit his lip as his thrusts sped up. Callie nearly squealed but managed to stay quiet.

With a sparkle in his eye, he turned her over, onto her knees. Callie thought he might knock her over with the force of his thrusts but thankfully he was holding onto her. She had a feeling she wouldn't last much longer and sure enough, the wave originated in her belly and radiated outward. She gasped loudly and he bent over her, cupping each breast and tweaking a nipple. She violently pushed back against him as the wave crashed, whimpering at the sheer force of energy. Clinching and pulsing and squeezing him, she wanted him to finish with her. She heard him almost cry out and looked at him over her shoulder. He gripped her hips, gave one last thrust and then collapsed on top of her, forcing them down on the bed.

They panted and gulped air and laid motionless for a long while. Eventually JC rolled over. Callie lay in the same spot, on her stomach, willing her limbs to move. Soft but dry, chapped lips left light kisses on her arm, then shoulder, then he pushed her hair aside and kissed her neck, then her cheek. She smiled and lifted a hand. He took it and laced his fingers between hers.

“That was the hottest sex we have ever had. Sexy little rocker chick.” More kisses traveled down her back, and then up to her shoulder.

“Mmmmmph.”

“Uh, oh. I think I wore you out. ‘Hurry up, I’m horny’,“ he mimicked.

“Oh please. I totally owned you the first time.”

“Okay, I'll give you round one. I won round two though. And you didn't dance for me.”

“Shit. I can’t move, let alone dance.”

“Come on, come over here.” He rolled away from her and laid on his back, extending his arm for her to find her usual spot. With much effort, Callie rolled over and found it.

“So, uhm.” JC breathed in, and out again.  “Were you ever going to tell me you saw Curtis?”

Callie's heart skipped a beat. “What?”

“You know I have spies, right? You saw Curtis.”

A brown eye opened and focused on his face, then blinked. “Yeah. I saw Curtis. I didn't think it was that big of a deal.”

“It's not. Just, when people mention to me, 'hey I saw your girlfriend holding hands with her ex the other day'--”

Callie shot up, sat bolt upright, fuming. “Who said I was holding hands with him? I wasn't. I was not holding his hand.”

“What did you do?” he asked, calmly.

“He was there, getting something to eat because he had been up for two days sitting with Mikey, the bassist for Soul Train. He's in the hospital with an infection, Mikey is his best friend. He saw me, he sat down, he looked like shit, he looked like he felt like shit, he told me about Mikey, I reached across the table and squeezed his hand. That's all.”

The soft tic tic tic of the clock on the bedside table seemed loud to Callie, against the silence in the room. JC lay unmoving, simply staring at her.

“So, someone said I was holding hands with him?”

He nodded, once. “And that he kissed you.”

She shook her head, scratched it in frustration. “He didn't. He got up to leave, he touched his cheek to mine, he walked out. JC, I mean it. I wouldn't lie to you, and I wouldn't do that to you. That restaurant was full of people.”

“I know. I trust you. That's why I asked.”

“You don't sound like you trust me. You sound like you're accusing me.”

“I'm not. I swear. I'm not. I was just asking. Come here,” he said, offering her favorite spot to her once again. After a short hesitation, she laid back down and tried to relax.

“I hope you believe me, J. I wouldn't do that to you.”

“I know. I believe you. And I'm not trying to make you like, check in or anything. I just don't want to be surprised with that shit. Can we agree that if you see him that you let me know? I don't like him, and I don't trust him.”

Callie breathed an inward sigh of relief. “Yeah. We can agree to that.”

He planted a kiss on her forehead and yawned. She giggled. “Oh, you’re not tired are you? I thought you said you’d been working out.”

“I’m ready whenever you are.”

“I’m ready.”

“I need a minute.”

She laughed and laid an arm across his waist. “Take your time. I'm not going anywhere.”

“Do you want to go out tomorrow? Like, dress and red carpet, out?”

“I guess. Where are we going?”

“New club opening. Joey will be here, and his wife Kelly. You can meet him. You would like Joey. He's your kinda guy.”

“Really?”

“Oh, totally. Burps a lot. Rude as hell.”

“Great. Looking forward to that.”

“I’ve got something else you can look forward to,” he teased, a wide grin on his face, rolling her on top of him.