I awoke early, still on east coast time, almost forgetting where I was until I felt the gentle rise of JC’s chest against my back and an arm thrown heavily over me. Slowly, I separated myself from him, dug my toiletry bag out of my suitcase and headed for the bathroom. I rummaged around his master bath until I found the closet with towels in it, turned on the faucet in the spacious shower and stepped under the spray.

The previous day, and our conversation the night before, rolled through my mind. I felt close to him—close enough to consider him someone I could tell my secrets to. I hoped I was working my way toward being someone he felt like he could share things with. I hadn’t breathed a word of anything we’d talked about to anyone—not Melissa or Jen, or my parents, who knew I met someone in LA but didn’t really know the extent. I supposed they would find out, if they needed to, eventually. I was really still trying to figure it out myself.

The night before, after collapsing against each other again, we laid in bed, staring at the ceiling, talking until we fell asleep. Easily, randomly. Those were the times I liked him the most. Sex was certainly a highlight and a great benefit but after, when he was relaxed and calm and open, sometimes he said things to me that made my heart hurt with want for him. Sometimes a selfish want, as in I wanted him, forever. Sometimes a not-so-selfish want, as in I wanted him to have his heart’s desire, everything he ever dreamed of having but didn’t have and was slowly plotting to accomplish. I guessed, at least I told myself, that this must be what falling in love felt like. Not so much a falling, but a growing, a sinking, gentle and soft lowering into something warm and comforting.

Of course, the demons circled. The thoughts that asked me why I thought I was special. Why would he choose me to be with, and he had to have a reason, and maybe the reason was because I was willing. I was a rock star’s dream come true—quiet, not demanding, and willing to give him what he wanted, whenever he asked. I knew enough to not give in to them. Time would either prove them right or prove them wrong.

I stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around myself and another around my hair,  plugged in my various hair tools to warm up and opened the door to walk out of the steamy room--- into a chest of hair.

I jumped in surprise and hopped backward. He blinked against the bright light of the bathroom. “Oh! Hey! Did I wake you up? I’m sorry.”

“Nope, have to pee,” he said, his voice gravelly with sleep as he walked past me. I heard the toilet flush, and the water run as his washed his hands and brushed his teeth.

I unwrapped my towel and sat on the side of the bed, a bottle of lotion in my hands when he stepped out and laid across the bed, pulling the sheet back around him. He watched me apply lotion to every inch of skin from my feet up.

“You’re all showered and smelling pretty. How do you know I didn’t want to have sex again this morning?”

I snickered and glanced back at him. “California doesn’t have a water shortage. There is such a thing as taking another shower. You game?”

An eyebrow lifted and I watched his eyes travel down and back up my body. He shook his head. “Nah. I’m good. We’ll build up to later.”

“Never say I didn’t offer.” I went back to smoothing the heavy cream lotion into my skin as he watched, then removed the towel from my hair, running my fingers through it, detangling as I went.

“I like your curly hair. I don’t remember if I said so, last night.”

I glanced back at him. “Would you tell me, if you didn’t?”

“I just wouldn’t say anything, if I didn’t. If I mention it, I pretty much like it.”

“Well thank you. I kind of thought you wouldn’t. I’ve been challenging myself to let go of certain things, like trying to be the exact opposite of Regina.”

He nodded, his head leaning on a loosely closed fist. “What do your parents think of all of this? Regina, and the therapy and you taking care of her. I mean, do they know you resent her and having to watch over her?”

I nodded, over my shoulder. “Yeah. We’re wide open. They know everything. And you’re not the first person to tell me I needed therapy. They’ve been harping on it for years.”

“I’m just the first complete stranger to tell you that you need therapy.”

“Exactly,” I said, standing up, picking up my suitcase, sliding it onto the bed and zipping it open. I picked out a modest pair of underwear and held them up. He shook his head. I rolled my eyes and pulled out another pair. He chuckled, tucked his bottom lip between his teeth, crawled over to the suitcase and picked out a frilly pink lacy pair and handed them to me.

“You scare me,” I said, tossing them to the center of the bed.

“I’m a man”, he said, with a smile, a hand spread across his chest. “I enjoy the female form and all its pleasures. If you ask me what I think about lingerie I am going to tell you. Otherwise,” he flipped his hand at me. ”Wear what you want.” He crawled back to his warm spot and laid back against the pillows, smiling as he watched me pull on the dainty, thin pieces of fabric. “I love your body. Have I told you that?”

“Once or twice,” I said winking at him and bending over the suitcase.

“Pick out something sexy now,” he said, teasing, an arm under his head, a silly grin on his lips.

I gave him a look as I dug through the piles of clothing. I always over packed—I liked to have options. “I always look sexy, Chasez. Always.”

“Damn right. I like that,” he said, pointing to the sheer pink blouse I pulled out.

“Good, because this is what I’m wearing.” I tossed it to the center of the bed, picked out a pair of comfortable shoes, jeans, and a few other items I would need and zipped the suitcase closed.  I padded into the bathroom, blew my hair dry, put on a little makeup and came back out, expecting him to be up and moving around. He was still lying in the bed, the room quiet.

“Are you getting up? I’m hungry.”

He groaned, and pulled the sheet further, up over his shoulder. “Of course you are. There’s pop tarts in the kitchen.”

My breathing was stuttered as I yanked my jeans up and over my hips, zipping them closed. “Get your ass up and take me to breakfast.”

“No.”

My eyes narrowed, I glared at the lump in the bed. “Did you just say no to me?”

“Yes.” He snuggled deeper under the sheet, eyes closed, long lashes laying against his skin.

“I’m going to eat every pop tart you have down there.”

“’Kay,” he yawned. “We’ll get more at the store.” He scratched at his face and burrowed deeper under the sheet.

“JC, get up!” I reached for the sheet and yanked it down. He moaned and stretched, pouting, his eyes blinking open, then laid there. “Do I get some if I take you to breakfast?”

I buttoned my blouse and smoothed it against my body. He watched me, his eyes following my hands as I adjusted the deep v-neck so my bra didn’t show. I chuckled at his question. “I don’t use sex as a reward. You’ll get some anyway. Come on. Please get up.”

“You said please, so. I guess. Gotta shower. Give me a few.” He rolled out of bed and stumbled toward the bathroom. I heard the shower turn on and a loud yawn. Before he could close the door, I barged in and swept my collection of brushes and makeup tools off of the counter. He stood, holding the door, watching me. He looked amused.

I lifted my face to him as I passed him on my way out. He leaned to press his lips against mine, then swatted at me. “Get out, woman.”

“I’ll be downstairs,” I called as he closed the door.

To my surprise, Tyler was home, awake and seated at the kitchen table, eating a bowl of cereal and poring over a textbook. I noticed that it was a study guide for the Bar Exam and I smiled, giving his shoulder a pat as I walked by. I stood in front of the coffeemaker, wondering if I could figure out how to work the thing. It was a big shiny silver contraption that, I guessed, was a grinder and also an espresso maker.

Tyler got up, chewing a mouthful of cereal, and pulled out the tray where the grounds should go, then opened a cabinet and set out a bag of beans. He measured them, poured them into the grinder, grabbed my hand and set it on top, flipping the switch. He swallowed, then said, “They fly everywhere, if you don’t hold it down.”

Once the beans were ground, he handed me the small cup and I poured them into the tray he’d opened, then closed it. “It gets the water from the water line, so you don’t have to fill it. Just flip that,” he said, pointing to a switch. I did, and a light came on and steam started to rise from the vents in the back. “About six minutes, you’ll have yourself a cup of coffee.”  He nodded once, and then went back to the textbook and the cereal where he sat at the breakfast nook.

“Thank you, Tyler.” I sucked in the scent of delicious aroma and my mouth watered. “I didn’t expect to see you this morning. Did you not drink enough to still be passed out?”

“Guess not. I felt like a wimp but I was pretty much sober at closing time. I slept over at my buddy’s but he had to work at 8 so I got up when he did. I figured the coast would be clear.” He looked up at me and winked. I blushed and turned around, watching the glass carafe fill with rich, dark brown coffee.

“Josh up? Where’s my breakfast?”

“He is up, and you’re eating it. But I’ll make dinner if you plan on hanging around tonight.”

“I’ll be here for a little bit, probably. Can you make him unload the dishwasher? You gotta see him do it.” He pointed at the cabinet to the left of the refrigerator, where I found the mugs.  I snorted, reaching for one and filling it. “That’s an idea. A good one.”   

“I sensed myself being picked on,” said a voice from around the corner, and then all of a sudden Tyler was in a headlock.  

“Ow! Serena started it. Let go, man. I just ate.” JC released him and punched him in the arm. “Where you guys taking me for breakfast?”

“Nowhere. I’m taking Serena to breakfast and then to Malibu. She wants to see the pretty people. Pour me a cup of that,” he said nodding toward my mug of coffee. He sat in the seat next to Tyler, landing heavily, unfolding the paper that laid untouched on the table.

I poured him a mug and set it next to him, his head buried in the paper. I leaned against the counter, enjoying my own mug, listening to the brothers talk and argue. They reminded me of my brothers, who fought a lot growing up but were now the best of friends. Their sons were close in age so their families often intertwined, vacationing and entertaining together. Once a year, the entire family gathered at my grandparent’s home in Colorado. That trip was coming up quickly and I was excited.

JC tipped his mug back, sucking down the last drop of coffee and then folded the paper, swatting at Tyler with it.

He looked up at me, waiting patiently, still leaning against the counter. “You ready to go?”

I nodded, standing up. “Yes. Bye, Tyler.” I ruffled his hair on the way out.

“Bring me back a present!”

I found the perfect present for Tyler in a Malibu gift shop, a bobble head with blonde hair, a hat and dimples. It looked so much like him it was creepy. I tucked it away in my purse and I couldn’t wait to give it to him.

Malibu was gorgeous and full of very pretty people. JC and I stood at the beach on Topanga Canyon, watching the waves crash, feeling the cool breeze off of the spray of the water. If it were warmer, according JC, we would be watching lithe bodies fall off of and continuously climb back onto surfboards and ride the incoming tide.  I made a note to come back to that spot when it was warmer so I could watch.

I love houses, and happened to mention it, so we went on a tour through a few neighborhoods of very nice, very new homes. I wasn’t even listening as he crawled past home after beautiful home while I dreamt of beach front property. The day was pleasant, nice weather, not hot but not very cold. The top was down and JC was in a silly mood. He’d kept me laughing all day with story after story and odd observations. I liked walking around with him, standing with him, listening to him, getting an insight on how his mind worked and what he thought about the world around him.  

It was late in the afternoon when he pulled into the parking lot at Ralph’s. We wandered the store while I tried to remember everything I wanted to buy.  

“I don’t understand how you can be as old as you are and you can’t cook. Tyler can’t either? “

“I could probably follow directions. I just don’t want to. And I don’t know what stuff is supposed to look like when it’s done so… I just don’t try. He shrugged and looked over at me as I stared up at him, in the middle of the canned soup aisle. “It’s not like we’ll starve. I can make, you know, Easy Mac. And pancakes.”

“Pancakes,” I said, shaking my head and walking on. “Well. You could survive off pancakes if you had to. You know, in a pinch.”

“Right, that’s what I think.”

“So… but you have food in your fridge. Do people just bring you food? Or just bust in and cook something?”

“Sometimes,” he answered, flashing a cocky grin at me. “Tyler’s friends who realize we can’t cook and wouldn’t if we could. And Autumn. She uhm… does my laundry and stuff.” He laughed, embarrassed. “But really, it helps because sometimes I just don’t have time to do stuff like wash my clothes. And other times I have plenty of free time but… I’m just so used to someone else doing it.”

“So, what you’re saying is… you’re spoiled.”

He tipped his head down toward me, his eyes darting around, then finally settling on mine. “Yeah.”

“Just so I know. Grab one of those for me?” I pointed at an onion.

He picked one up, tossed it into a plastic bag and set it into the cart among the other things I had picked up. “I’m serious though. You really don’t have to cook.”

“I know. I don’t mind. I like it. It relaxes me.” I rubbed his back as took over pushing the cart for me.

We slowly made our way up and down the grocery aisles. I picked up miscellaneous items and set them in the basket. “So. Your meeting. In New York?”  

“Yeah. I’ll probably fly up one day and out the next. I hope, anyway.”

“Do you want me to come up? Just to be with you?”

He stopped pushing and grinned. “Look at you, trying to get a trip to New York out of me.”

I blushed, a deep crimson red and my cheeks were on fire. Not exactly what I meant. “I’m not. JC, I swear, I will pay for myself if you want me to. If it would help to have a friendly face there, I’ll come up. I know it’s not a vacation. I just want to support you.” I looked up at him, chewing his bottom lip, lost in thought, staring into the cart.

I wrapped both hands around a muscular arm. “It’s okay if the answer is no. I just was offering.”

My touch brought him out of his trance and he glanced at me, his blue eyes blinking. “I know. I appreciate it. Let me think about it, okay? I’m not sure it would be worth it for you to come up.”

“Okay,” I said, rubbing his arm. ”I think I’m ready to check out.”

He looked down into the full cart and laughed. “Uhm. What is all this?”

“Dinner. Breakfast. You guys need food to eat. Ready?”

 ##

“Tyler, I found something for you.”

Dinner was over, the kitchen was clean and we lounged in the living room, deciding what we would do with our evening. JC picked up a call and moved to a room downstairs to take it. Tyler lay on the couch, rubbing his full stomach, laughing at the random comedy program he was watching. His dimples reminded me of the toy I picked up for him in Malibu.

“If it’s not a million dollars, I don’t want it.”

“How about a bobble head that looks freakishly like you?” I pulled the toy out of my purse and handed it to him. He sat up and took it, moving it so the head wiggled and shook. He looked at me, with one brow raised.

“This is freaky. I’m totally creeped out by it. But I love it, because it’s from you. Thanks!”  JC came back just in time to see Tyler drop a sweet kiss on my cheek.

“Hey.” JC punched him lightly on the arm. ”How come every time I leave the room you’re flirting with my girlfriend?”  

Tyler shrugged, his shoulders meeting his ears. “I can’t help it. Quit leaving me alone with her.”

“Aren’t you leaving?”

He yawned and stretched, turning around to check the clock on the wall. “Yeah, I’m gonna head out. You guys have a good night. Thanks for dinner, Serena. And for the really creepy bobble head. I love it.” Tyler made his way down the stairs and out the door.

JC took the spot Tyler vacated and I sat next to him. He raised an arm and let me snuggle up against him, dropping it around my shoulders.

“Girlfriend?” I glanced up at him, just barely smiling. I didn’t want to make a big deal of it but… girlfriend. Without asking, he’d slapped a label on my back.

He looked down at me, shrugged a shoulder, and dropped a feather-light kiss on my lips. “Are you okay with that?”

“I’m alright. You could have asked me, though.”  

“I didn’t figure you would say no. Do you want me to stop calling you that?”

“Didn’t say that,” I said, moving over him to straddle him. Intertwining my fingers in his, I leaned down to kiss him, my tongue lazily exploring his mouth. I let go of his hands and let him wrap his arms around me. Mine found their way into his hair and I ran my fingers through it, tugging lightly. He moaned into my mouth and his hands roamed my body.

“Mmmmm,” his voice rumbled, the sound coming from deep in his throat. “If calling you my girlfriend gets me this kind of treatment I’ll be happy to do it more often.”

I giggled. “I think I’m just… surprised.”

“Why? And you like sitting on me, don’t you?”

“Very much,” I said, moving my hips against him. “I guess I figured it would be awhile before we decided to go there. I’m not… I mean I’m happy. I’m gonna shut up.” I leaned down and pressed my lips to his. His responded, his hands roaming up and down my waist. I broke the kiss and rested my arms around his shoulders, pressing my cheek to his. It was something I wanted. I was not going to complain. I just wished I’d had the chance to say ‘yes’ when he asked.

I felt his arms around me, rubbing my back. “Talk to me. You still think I’m playing with you, don’t you?”

I pulled back so I could see him, look him in the eye. No matter what thoughts and doubts came to me, I didn’t think that. “I don’t. I just… I thought we were just hanging out. I would have been cool with that.”

“Mmhmm.” He looked like he didn’t believe me, and I didn’t blame him. I was clearly falling for him, and I wasn’t even trying to keep it from him.

I laughed, caught. “It’s just. It’s fast. Don’t you think?”

He gave me that look that said ‘whatever’. “If we were 22, yeah. I don’t need to wait forever to know if I like a girl or not, or if I want to date her or not, or if I want her to be someone I’m spending a lot of time with.”

“True,” I said, nodding. “I’m happy. I’m not complaining. I also don’t want to screw it up by rushing it. Or accept it and lose it because you change your mind about what you want. I wasn’t expecting to label it. That’s all.”

“I’m not changing my mind. Look, here’s the thing.” He swallowed, pressed his lips together, then opened his mouth to say something, closed it, and opened it again. “I… I’m selfish. Okay? I’ll admit that. All I can think about is that I don’t want to lose you to someone who can be there on Friday night to go to a movie with you, or wake up with you on Saturday morning, or who doesn’t have to plan three weeks in advance to have two days with you, or who can come over on Sunday morning for coffee and croissants and bad movies on cable.” His hands moved to my face, cupping my cheeks, bringing me closer to him.

“I liked you the minute I met you, Serena. I know you know that. So, that means I can’t be the only man interested in you. I can’t leave that to chance. I want to be that guy, no matter where I live. Or you live.”

I laid my hands over his. “I want you to be that guy, too. Just know that it’s not a competition. No one was going to snatch me up, if you didn’t, first.”

He closed his eyes, a shy smile on his lips, then opened them again. “In my mind, I know that. Sometimes I have these thoughts, though. And I can’t turn them off. You know?”

“I have those, too. I call them my demons. I’ve had them since I was little.”

“Me too. They used to tell me things about my mom. Like, she didn’t want me. Or like… you know that Tyler and Heather didn’t like me or I wasn’t their real brother. And now they tell me things like I’m a failure and everyone I love leaves me…”

I nodded, slowly. “Mine tell me things like I’m one step away from being Regina. That I won’t ever find someone that accepts me for who I really am. And that I have no business messing with you because I’m not good enough or glamorous enough or Hollywood enough for you.”

“I bet they’re irritated right now.” He wiggled his brows and burst into quiet laughter.  

“I bet they are.” I laughed with him, sliding my hands down his arm and around his shoulders. “I hope they’ll go away, now.”

He breathed deeply, his chest expanding. “They’ll just bug us about something different. Whatever I’m unsure of or insecure about—there they are.”

There was that want, again. For him. “Like?”

“Like.” He breathed in, and out, leaned his forehead on mine. “Like, if I’ll ever have the kind of career I want to have.” His voice was so soft I barely heard him over the TV. I reached for the remote and muted the sound, the room falling silent except for the ticking of the clock on the wall.

“Do the fans know I want it? That I’m fighting to get it back?”

“The fans don’t know what you want, sweetheart,” I said, softly. “You say one thing and do another. You say you love music and love performing, but you haven’t been on a stage in years. And that was for ONE song. There are artists who don’t have a fourth of your talent who do shows all the time. We don’t ever get to see you.”

“It’s not like I can. My hands are so tied in so many ways, no one would even understand--” Frustrated, he turned his head and stared at the wall of electronics, blankly watching the images flip on the large flat screen, chewing on his bottom lip. “Fuck.”

“You asked me, JC. And I’m not the fan spokesperson. Why not ask me what I think?”

His eyes found mine, deep pools of blue searching my face. “Because it’s not fair to ask you. Because you know more than the average fan does and what you know taints what you think. And because you’ll be nice. I don’t need nice. I need truth.”

“Have I lied to you, yet?”

“I don’t know,” he mumbled. “Don’t let me find out though.” He winked. Very quickly, but it was a wink. I took the hint that he was done talking.

“So what are we doing? You wanted to see a movie?”

“Yeah, there’s a film out, I’ve wanted to see. Get off me.” He smacked my thigh, loudly.

I didn’t move, instead I pressed myself against him, wrapped my arms around his neck and gave him a sweet smile. “I think I’ll like being your girlfriend. But you better quit smacking me around.”

 “Or what?” he said with a toss of his head. “Really. I have to pee.”

I leaned in for one last kiss and moved to the side so he could stand up. I watched him walk away, down the hall and duck into the bathroom. I fell back against the couch, watching the muted TV, thinking.  Breathing a long sigh of relief. If this didn’t work, at least for a good, long while, I was in trouble. 

We never really made it to the movie—we got as far as the car, in the garage, looked at each other, and decided we wanted to enjoy having the house to ourselves. So we did.

“You have…” JC panted, “A ridiculously high sex drive. Ouch!” JC rolled over and stretched out in the giant King sized bed.

“I know you’re not complaining. I’m just making up for lost time. And stockpiling some for a few weeks.”

His head rolled so he could see me, one eye open. “How much time are we making up for? Can I get a rundown? I need to start working out.”

I laughed and inched over to him. “No! Nope. You stay there. When you get near me, I get going and I can’t…. I... I need a minute.” He tucked both hands behind his head and closed his eyes while his rapid breathing slowed to normal.

I rolled to my side, leaned on an arm and watched him. “Did you know the more you have sex the more you want sex? It’s a scientific fact.”

He groaned at me and moved further away. “That can’t be true. I won’t be in the clear until we haven’t had sex for like…six months.”

“Let’s not do that.” I scooted over to him on his side of the bed. “You do not listen well. I told you to stay over there.”

“I won’t do anything. I’ll just lay here. Okay?” I laid down next to him and didn’t move.

After a few minutes, he extended his arm in invitation for me to come closer. I accepted, snuggling up next to him. My eyes slid closed, my body exhausted from exertion.

“Serena.” JC tapped my shoulder. “You awake?”

“Mmmhmmm,” I mumbled against his chest.

“So, I was thinking. About New York.”

I lifted my head. “What say you?”

“I say,” he hesitated, tucking hair behind my ear. “Sorry, honey. I think it’s a bad idea. I won’t be in a mood to have to you there and it will probably be stressful. And I’m really hoping to be in and out. It won’t be fun for you.”

“Okay,” I said with a nod. “I was just offering.”

“I know. You’re sweet to offer. And we’ll go, later in the year. It’ll be fun. I have a plan, though.” My head dropped to his chest and I laughed. He always had a plan.

“Okay. Tell me your plan. It’s a terrible idea, isn’t it?”

“It’s not that bad,” he said. “I was thinking I would come out to see you. On my way home from Miami. Does that idea suck?”

I lifted my head, a smile growing into a wide, surprised grin. “That idea does not suck, Chasez. It does not suck at all.”

“You have to call me something besides Chasez.”

“I call you JC sometimes.”

“That’s my stage name.”

“I’m not calling you ‘C’. That’s even worse than JC.”

He huffed, mocking frustration. “Alright, alright. So. Now we have plans to see each other before you even leave town. Look at that.”

I dropped a kiss on his chest. “I like that.”

“I knew you would. I still need to meet Melissa.”

“She is dying to meet you. Like, out of her mind. She can’t wait.” I laid my head back down on his chest, listening to his heart beat. His breathing slowed, his breaths deeper, and even.  I was not asleep, but was getting there.

“Have you ever been in love?” The question hung in the air as I laid there, blinking. I had no idea he was still awake. I lifted my head and moved so I was laying next to him, on my side. He turned to his side to face me and laid an arm over my waist.

“Really, truly in love? I don’t think so. Have you?”

He nodded, his face brushing against the pillow, making a swishing sound. “I liked it. Loved it. It was scary, but I loved it. Then… it kind of fell apart. And now…”

I reached across the pillow and cupped his face, scratched the back of his neck. “Now are you scared to let yourself go there, again?” He nodded, again.

“I don’t know what I’m doing, with you. I don’t want to hurt you. So badly, I don’t want to hurt you. I want a lot with you. I think we could have a lot together.”

“Did you think that calling me your girlfriend would push us closer to that?”

“I should have asked you, instead of assuming you would just say yes. Because, you know, how could you say no?” He chuckled, bitterly.

“I wouldn’t have. But I would have appreciated you asking.”

“I could ask right now.”

I giggled, softly. “If it would make you feel better, go ahead.”

“Do you want to be my girlfriend?”

“Hmmmm,” I mused, teasing him, scooting closer, tucking an arm under his. “Do I want to only date you, who lives on a completely different coast, in a different time zone, in a whole different world than I do? Do I want to possibly have my private life on the front page of some blog while people tear me apart on the internet? Do I? Really?”

His laugh vibrated up from his belly and through him to me. “Sounds like a killer deal, honey. So what do you say?”

“Yes. In spite of all of that, yes. Let’s just not… you know, rush through a lot of steps. I want to enjoy this.”

His arm around my waist tightened and he leaned into me, pushing me back against the pillows. “I don’t rush through anything,” he said, covering my mouth with his, gently, softly playing with my lips and my tongue. My nails scratched his scalp and I sighed into his mouth.

He pulled back, pushing hair off of my forehead. “Thank you, for saying yes. I’m sorry for assuming you would. You okay?”

I nodded. “I… have to ask you something. It’s about something you said in an interview and I’m sorry to bring an interview into what’s going on here, but…”

“What is it?”

I debated in my mind, quickly, if I should even bring it up, but it was sitting so heavily there. “Okay. You said, once, that you cheated on a girlfriend, out on the road. Actually, you said you made some mistakes, which… whatever, we don’t accidentally fall into people’s beds—“

“No, no. Wait. I didn’t say it was an accident. I said it was a mistake. I made the wrong choice. And I owned up to that, on the air.”

“Yes, and it was very big of you. I’m just asking. What’s changed? Why should I trust you won’t make the same mistake?”

“Because I’m not the same person, Serena. I don’t have the same raging hormones and I’m not cooped up in a bus with three other guys working 20 hours a day, not being able to even see a girl unless she was screaming or crying or shoving a piece of paper in my face and making demands. I haven’t—I’m not expecting a parade or anything but I haven’t cheated on a girl in a long time. And when it happened to me, I…” His voice trailed off and he wagged his head. “I don’t think I could do that to someone else. You don’t have to believe me. We’ll just wait and see but I hope you’ll trust me. I trust you.”

“I trust you, I do. I don’t want to regret trusting you, though.”

He moved down in the bed, laying his head on my shoulder. I laid an arm over his back, curling my hand around his side, the other hand cradling his head, my fingers playing in his hair. He rolled his head slightly, kissed the skin that was under his cheek and whispered, so lightly I could barely hear him. “You won’t.”