I watched JC make his mark on the world of TV-- from the middle of his bed, surrounded by books and manuals, my laptop open next to me and a pile of paperwork to plow through before the following Monday. He was so funny when he was in the spotlight, kind of stiff, a little preachy, but as he started to relax, parts of the man I knew and loved came out. I laughed with him at his jokes and snorted at his nerdy comments. On the surface he appeared to be having fun, but he was taking it really, very seriously. There was a lot at stake, and a lot of connected people-- and networks-- involved. He couldn't afford to be flippant about his role.

His schedule otherwise was erratic. I was getting a crash course in ‘rock hours'. This meant sleeping until late morning usually, putting in time in the studio between meetings and other distractions, working into the early morning and falling into bed just before dawn. He tried to be around if I could stay, though often I would wake up to find myself alone in the huge bed. He would mysteriously reappear later, curling up next to me before it was time for me to make the trip back downtown.

As the task list shortened and time wound down, I was making the best of my stay on the West Coast, trying to work less, relax more, explore the city before I would have to leave it. It wasn't like I wouldn't be back, but I longed to enjoy it fully while I had the chance, while I was there 24x7. I was sure there was more to LA than every bar, nightclub, or museum between JC's house and the state line. I missed Melissa and Jen and Annette and my sisters in law-- my girlfriends. I missed having women to talk to and hang out with and be girly with. JC's female friends were nice enough but there was a strange undercurrent, like they were waiting for me to grow a second head or something. One night, while cleaning out my purse, I came across Allison's worn business card, sort of folded in half and frayed at the corners and that familiar head of blond hair ran through my head.

JC was still sleeping when I crept out of the house at 11:00 and climbed into the compact rental. I almost choked from the heat--the car had been sitting in the driveway, baking in the sun since sunrise. I missed my own car, in its spot in my garage, while I fiddled with the air vents and drove toward the restaurant where I was meeting Allison. It was a nice, clean place with great food and a friendly atmosphere-- it reminded me of the down home places my parents liked to eat when I drove out to visit them.

The air started to cool the car just as I pulled into the parking lot. I saw Allison right away, on a bench in the entryway, on the phone. "Just a second, my mom," she mouthed, and pointed at the tiny phone at her ear. I nodded and tried not to listen as I waited, peering into the half full restaurant, happy that we'd apparently beat the weekend rush.

"Sorry about that. My mom had a lot to say, I guess." She snapped the flip phone shut and tucked it inside her bag, which coincidentally matched her outfit. I remembered vaguely, at some point before meeting JC when I was all about matching accessories. Lately I was lucky if I remembered to brush my hair.

I pulled open the interior door, the scent of fresh baked breads and waffles greeting us. "Not a problem. Were you waiting long?"

"Not at all, I swear I just got here and sat down. Right on time." The hostess showed us to an open table and we chatted while looking over the menu.

"I don't know why I bother reading through this thing. I get the same thing every time I come here. But I like to look."

She browsed the menu and then closed hers, sliding it to the edge of the table. "Me, too. I'm a creature of habit. A waffle and 2 eggs, it's all I ever have."

We made small talk, waiting for the waitress to bring tall glasses of ice water, silverware, and take our orders. As soon as she walked away, Allison tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and leaned in.

"So. I don't want to be nosy. If you don't want to talk about it, I understand--"

I held up a hand. "But you want to ask about..." I looked around, found we had a wide berth of tables around us. "You want to ask about JC, right?"

She scrunched her face and a pink glow appeared on each cheek. "I sound weird. I'll shut up."

"No, no. It's fine." I waived her off. "If I met someone that knew him I'd totally find the most respectful way to go 'oh my GOD, tell me everything!"

"Right?" She seemed relieved that I understood. "I feel voyeuristic even wondering."

"I'd feel that way, too. I mean, I was a fan when I met him, so... I get it. I can't say a whole lot, of course. I'd feel like a heel if something got out and it came from me."

"Oh. I totally understand," she said, apologetic and stumbling over her words. "Forget I asked, really. I was just wondering where a girl from Atlanta meets... you know... him."

She didn't mean it the way I wanted to take it, but I knew as soon as people caught wind of JC having a girlfriend, tongues would wag and they would mean it that way-- how does a random girl meet someone like him and become a part of his life? People would assume I slept my way in-and I did. I still had no regrets but I wished I had a different story to tell.

"I met him on a flight, actually. Atlanta to LA." I stopped to laugh at myself, thinking back to how even a short flight would send me into a frantic haze. Not that I was cool and collected now, but I was more just tired and nervous than terrified and hyperventilating. "Remember how weird I was, when we met? Multiply that by about ten, and that's how I was on the flight with him. He sat next to me, and talked to me and held my hand when I freaked out. We started talking and hit it off and... here we are."

"Aw, how sweet. He seems nice."

"He is." I couldn't help but smile. Annoyingly wide, I was sure, but I didn't care. "Very."

"So... things... are going good?"

"Yeah," I said with a nod. "Things... are great. I'm happy, he's happy--" I stopped as I looked up and thought I saw someone in a familiar windbreaker step to the empty hostess stand, yawning, looking around. I tipped my head out of the booth and sure enough, Tyler was leaning over the wooden stand, practically sprawling over it. I waived at him and caught his eye. He did a double-take, then stood up straight and waived back, making his way through the restaurant to our table.

His cheek bumped mine as he bent to greet me. "What are you doing on this side of town?"

I pointed at my companion. "Having lunch with my friend, here. Allison this is--"

"Tyler," he interrupted, pulling a hand out of his pocket and sticking it out at her. His lopsided, shy grin was met with the same bright smile she'd been wearing all day. He shook her hand, then seemed to not want to let go. She seemed to not mind, all that much.

"So, are you meeting someone, Ty?" He was staring. Obviously so. I poked at him, and he jumped a little.

"Huh?"

I slid over in the booth, patting the smooth, faux leather seat next to me. "Sit down, unless you're meeting someone. Come on."

Tyler looked from me, to Allison, and back to me. "Uhm. I don't want to interrupt."

"Sure you do. It's what you boys do best. Sit down." He gave me a long look and finally slid into the booth next to me. "I'm sorry Allison, I didn't even ask if you minded--"

"Oh, I'm fine," she answered quickly. "I'm fine. Nice to meet you, Tyler. I'm Allison."

"Mmhmm, you too," he mumbled, then gulped down half of the glass of water that the waitress set in front of him as she passed by. "Uhm, so how do you know Serena?"

"We met on an airplane," she quipped. I laughed, choking on the water I had just sucked down, entertained by watching them flirt with each other.

Incredulous, Tyler stared at me. "What airline do y'all fly? I never meet awesome chicks on airplanes."

I tossed up my hands in an 'I don't know' gesture. "Hey, right place, right time. You just have to be lucky, I guess."

"Did she freak out on you, too? You should hear the story of how she almost passed out, when she met my brother..." I elbowed him and blushed.

"Easy, easy. We don't want to scare her. Tell Tyler what you do, Allison."

"Oh. I'm a paralegal," she volunteered, with a flourish. I knew that would interest him and he perked, sitting up straight. "You're... in law school, right? Southwestern?"

"Well, I'm done, but..." He shrugged. "I haven't taken the Bar. Serena has decided that I am going to, though." He sent me a glare that turned into a smile. "So I've been studying. Sort of."

"Oh. Well. I know a little, about the law. And the exam--I've helped tons of friends study, and they've all passed. If you want help, or ... anything."

"I might take you up on that. What firm are you working for?"

"Peterman and Sell, downtown. You know it?"

"Good firm," he said, nodding as if he actually knew it. Maybe he did, but I doubted it. "I'm uh, supposed to start clerking at Paulsen, Adams, & Leighton."

"Excellent firm," she said. She seemed impressed. Maybe I had no idea. "Right around the corner. We could do lunch or... something, maybe." Her eyes sparkled and the pink returned to her cheeks. She played with the silverware, tightly wrapped inside a napkin and banded.

"That'd be cool." Tyler nodded and glanced over at me. I was entertained, watching the volley of their conversation back and forth. I caught the very slightest wink from him and a warm fuzzy feeling grew in the pit of my stomach.

We talked easily and lightly through lunch. Tyler told hilarious stories about his first few years in LA, peppered with experiences and comments about living on the fringes of celebrity, where millions of people knew his name and everyone thought they were his friend, and he often felt the need to defend his family and his brother, though JC wished Tyler wouldn't try to fight his battles for him.

"It's just... it sucks," he said finally, pushing his empty plate away, "what people will say to try to get a rise, get that reactionary photo, get you to say something they can print, you know? I wish I could count the number of assholes I've wanted to just knock the fuck out. If JC could have it his way, he wouldn't be famous at all."

Allison ran a well manicured finger around the rim of her glass. "I work with a lot of... connected people. He isn't the only one. It's too bad that celebrities can't pick and choose the level that they're assigned, you know? Some people eat attention right up. So, if they want it, they can have it. Some people would rather live in obscurity, but they don't get to. It drives them crazy, after awhile."

Tyler nodded and crunched on ice from his empty glass of water, exchanging a knowing glance across the table. Allison excused herself and rushed toward the restroom. I nudged Tyler and but he refused to look at me, dimples deep and cheeks cherry red.

"She's cute," he said simply, after watching her round the corner.

"Mmhhmm," I mused, folding my arms on the table. "And friendly. And she seems kind of... interested."

An eyebrow lifted as he glanced over at me. "Does she?"

"Oh stop, you know she is."

He tapped a beat on the table with his knuckles and stared across the room and out of the window. "So... what should I do?"

"What do you normally do?"

He sighed, his eyes rolling to the ceiling. "Let's see. Ask a girl out, she takes one look at me, says no, I slink back to the corner."

I sucked my teeth and smacked his thigh under the table. "Tyler."

Shy, he hung his head. "I'm serious. I look nothing like your boyfriend," he mumbled into his chest.

"Well, okay, there's that. But... still. She seems interested. Which kind of almost guarantees a 'yes'. The worst she can say is ‘no', right?"

"I've heard worse than 'no'. But 'no' still hurts a lot," he said, lifting his head. "And I'm not asking your friend out in front of you."

The corner of my eye caught her figure walking back to the table, toting the small purse in the crook of her elbow. I had to work fast. "Okay," I muttered under my breath, "I'll give you guys a minute alone. I'll go to the restroom in a couple of minutes."

"What? No! Ser--"

"Shhh!"

Allison slid back into her seat. "Sorry. It's not a meal if I don't get up at least once."

"I've never seen an entire movie-- I always have to get up in the middle. He hates pausing anything." I pointed at Tyler and he nodded.

"Don't go to movies with Serena. She talks through them. It's annoying."

"No, no. I'm nowhere near as bad as your brother."

"We agree there." He lifted his fist and I bumped it. "Can't watch anything without a story about it. Sometimes I just don't care."

Allison giggled behind a closed fist covering her mouth. "Does he know you guys rip on him when he's not around?"

"He's used to it. If I'm around, he's getting picked on, but he's just decided we don't appreciate him appropriately. He knows we love him." A pause, then his head whipped around dramatically. "He does know we love him right? We told him?"

"Once or twice." Tyler shrugged as if to say ‘whatever' while Allison laughed harder.

"Let me out, now I need to go." I looked at him and he looked at me, his eyes wide, begging me not to leave the table. I stared him down, and he finally stood to let me out. I winked at him as I slid out of the booth, sending him good luck vibes and wondering how long I should stay in the restroom.

I passed the cleaning crew in the hallway, which explained the light, clean lemon scent. The mirrors were clean of smudges, the floor still slightly wet from the mop and all three stalls were empty and open. I leaned against the counter, and pulled my phone from it's pocket in my purse. Nestled between a few random work emails was a text message from JC: ' Hey, where are you?'

The message was a half hour old but he was never without his phone, so I brought up the text messaging menu and tapped out a reply: 'Brunch, remember? Ty is here, scoring a date, I think.'

Not even a minute a later, the phone buzzed and a reply came: 'Go Ty. Are you coming back here?'

'Maybe. Do you want me to?'

'Yes, but not for the reason you're thinking.'

'Oh? Oh. You want me to run an errand, don't you? I'm not your errand girl.'

'You will do it and like it. Really. Can you?'

'I guess. Calling you.'

Minutes later, I headed back to the table, marching orders in hand. I had been gone a suspiciously long time, but from the easy smiles and relaxed atmosphere between them, I guessed he'd had enough time to ask her out and got the answer he wanted.

"I have to go, in a couple of minutes. Don't get up." Tyler moved down and let me sit on the outside seat while we waited for our bill. "I get to run errands. How do you guys go through two gallons of juice a week?"

"Growing boys, Serena. Growing boys. He wants you to check the P.O. Box?"

"Yeah, he said you had a key." Tyler dug an overfull keyring out of his pocket, the keys jingling and clanging as he removed the small silver key and handed it to me.

"May as well keep it. Something tells me you'll be doing it more often."

"Doubt it." I worked the small key onto my keyring, anyway. "Project is almost over and then I won't be here as much."

He pouted, sticking out his bottom lip, then sucked it back in. "Keep it anyway. Then I don't have to do it." He stretched his arms along the back of the seat and tapped his fingers to the beat of the Muzak playing overhead, trying to hide a smug smile in Allison's direction.

"So?" I asked, grinning at them both. "You two have that 'cat that ate the canary' look about you. Are you going out, or what?"

"I didn't ask yet," he answered, then glanced across the table. "You wanna?"

"I don't think so," she giggled. "Thanks, though."

"Too bad you already said 'yes' ten minutes ago."

"Well, I guess I'm stuck then."

"Guess you are."

"Oy, I am getting a toothache." I pulled out my wallet and laid a few bills on the table. "This is for lunch, on me. You guys have fun, I have an assignment."

I probably could have said I was on my way to rob a bank, and neither of them would have heard me. They were already making eyes and grinning at each other, chatting back and forth in that cute way that couples do. That sometimes JC and I did. Young love. It was kind of sickening.

*

At some point, JC had rolled so he was lying mostly on top of me and we slept that way most of the night. I spent a considerable amount of time working my way out from underneath him, despite his best efforts to keep me buried under sheets and blankets and man. He grabbed at me when I finally broke free, but I twisted away from him and slid to the other edge of the bed.

"Where you going in such a hurry?"

"I'm not in a hurry, I just like breathing," I grumbled. "Why, do you need me to run more errands?"

He stretched, the sheet dropping to his waist. I could see his rib cage as he moved, his skin pulling, muscles rippling as he settled back against the pillow. "I need you to make me some pancakes."

I glared at him, rolling to my side. "You know, I don't mind cooking but you can cook pancakes, JC."

"Not like you do. They don't turn out as good as yours. Think of it as a perfect expression of your love for me."

I sat up, swinging my legs over the edge of the bed. I was going to end up doing it, anyway. "You can't use that for everything, you know."

"Yeah, I know. I'll stop using it when it stops working. Chop chop." He reached for the remote that he kept in it's spot on the nightstand. I crawled over him and got to it before he did and snatched it away, holding it out of reach.

"Nuh uh," I teased, laughing hysterically. "Get your ass up. You're helping."

"You're bossy," he muttered, sitting up.

I chuckled and leaned over him, dropping a kiss on the crown of his head. "Learning it from the Master, honey. See you downstairs."

A few hours later, two sticky, syrupy plates and two empty mugs were on the coffee table. Warm and full and sleepy again, hair sticking up in various places and a few days of growth on his chin and cheek, JC leaned against me and kicked his feet up on the ottoman, watching me flip through too many cable channels. "There's nothing on. What do you want to watch?"

"Football," he answered.

"There's no football, sweetheart. Superbowl is over."

"Then I don't care." He snuggled closer and I dropped an arm around him, my hand resting on his chest, just above his heart. I left it there, feeling it beat through the thin cotton t-shirt he wore. "Thank you for cooking. You must love me a lot."

"You can tell just by pancakes?" He nodded, and I felt him smile against me. "Then I guess I do."

I settled on Food Network and we mindlessly watched a few segments in silence. He shifted against me, drawing an arm across my waist.

"Qwest is almost over," he mumbled into my chest. "Don't want it to be."

"I do. I don't want to leave but I'm so ready for it to be over."

"Not ready to go back to not seeing you every weekend. It's been nice."

"Yeah, it has." I scratched at his scalp, digging my fingers into soft, silky hair. "We'll make it, though. We made it this far."

He nodded, again. "You're still going out to Denver, when it's over?"

"I'm planning on it, yeah." We stared at the screen awhile longer, and then I added, "I'm nervous about it."

I had been in sporadic contact with Charles and even less contact with Regina. They were all still eager to meet me, and though they seemed to be trying hard not to apply pressure, I felt it anyway. I was curious about them, and gung-ho to meet them at first. Now that I was closer to the day of actually making it happen, I was more nervous than anything and tempted to put it off.

"You'll be okay. They already love you. They just want to meet you. It'll go better than you think it will."

"I hope so. I'm really nervous that Regina has built me up to something I can't live up to."

His thumb worked at the hem of my t-shirt and his hand slipped underneath, the callus on his thumb rubbing against my skin. His arm tightened around my waist. "Do you want company? Do you want me to come with you?"

I tapped his shoulder and teased him. "Look at you, trying to get a trip to Denver out of me."

"Heh," he laughed, the sound vibrating though my t-shirt, my skin my body. "Funny. Really. I'll go with you, if you want."

"Are you serious? I mean, if you are, that would be awesome but you don't have to--"

"I know I don't have to. But I want to, if you want me there." He sat up, kissed me, then pulled back. "Do you? Want me there?"

My eyes narrowed as they met his. "Why do you kiss me and then ask me something?"

"Because it works? So... "

"So...yes." I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding. I felt relieved. Comforted, that he wanted to be with me for such a big moment. A vague memory of Robert curling his lip and wrinkling his nose at Regina floated to the top of my mind. He would have just said well, have fun, and left me to go it alone. Not this sweet man next me, the one I was falling more in love with everyday. He wanted to be there for me. This is what love felt like. "I would love for you to go with me."

He nodded, a tight grin across his face. I laughed, because I loved that face-- it reminded me of Alfred E. Newman.

Bare feet pounded down a hallway and the stairs, into the kitchen. Tyler stuck his head out of the kitchen and called out, "Can I eat this?"

"Yeah, I left some for you," I called back.

"Good, cause I already ate one," he answered, around the pancake he had shoved into his mouth, leaning against the archway that led into the den.

"How was the movie? Did you and Allison have fun?"

He nodded, then swallowed. "Movie was great. Allison is cute." He stopped, and smiled a crooked, impish smile. "We talked for a long time. She's fun. And, uhm... she's still sleeping in my room." Sheepish, he ambled back to the kitchen and came back with a glass of juice and resumed his spot against the wall, smug and grinning into his glass.

I glanced at JC and he glanced at me, his eyebrows raised. "I didn't tell him to sleep with her, JC."

"Nothing happened, you guys." He drained his glass and shrugged at us. "We talked after lunch, hung out some. Saw a late movie, got some food, came back here. It was just late, so I told her she could stay."

"Well, at least you were considerate," said JC, offering up his first comment on the situation. "Even if it worked in your favor."

Tyler let out a long belch in response, just as a red faced, sleep worn Allison came out of Tyler's room and down the stairs. Southwestern Law School was emblazoned across the large t-shirt she was wearing and Tyler's shorts were cinched tightly around her waist. The seat of them were baggy, since she had entirely less to work with back there. He blushed and bowed his head, trying not to laugh.

"Hi there," I said, waving her into the room, noting her crimson face, a blush too deep for 'nothing' to have happened. "There's food if you're hungry."

"Thanks," she said quietly. "I think I'm still full from last night."

Tyler came up behind her and slid an arm around her waist, softly kissing her cheek. "Sleep good?"

"Like a rock," she answered, smiling back at him. "Thanks for the clothes."

I cleared my throat, hating to interrupt the lovefest, but hinting that maybe they could move their flirty stares and soft conversation to a more private area of the sprawling house. "Tyler can get you some coffee or juice, or whatever you want... "

"Yeah, no problem," he said, springing into action and taking over, leading her by the hand to the kitchen. "What can I get you?"

I was trying not to eavesdrop, but they were standing outside the kitchen, still too close. I couldn't help but overhear them.

"Uhm, if you still want to go to that show tonight, it's sort of closer to my side of town. I could meet you there."

"No, no. I'll come get you. If that's okay."

The rest of their conversation was hushed, as they moved into the kitchen. I strained, but all I could hear was whispers and what I thought were light kisses. JC realized I was trying to listen and elbowed me. I giggled, silently, and gave up, scooting closer to him on the couch. He grabbed the remote and found a random Bowl game on ESPN, throwing up victory arms as I rolled my eyes.

Allison finished her coffee and gathered her clothes and bag and started to make her way to the door. Tyler walked her out to her car and I looked at JC, hiding a surprised smile. He pushed at me until I slid off of the couch. "Go, you know you want to look."

I circled the rooms until I found one with a view of the driveway, and squealed when I could finally see them, not a speck of light between them. He bent slightly to kiss her, his lips lingering on hers before he let her go and she got in. He leaned into the open window and kissed her again, and then stepped back as she pulled away.

"What?" JC called. "Serena. What?"

"Smooches in the drive way," I said, giggling as I came back to the couch. "He's so cute! He's coming in."

Tyler went straight to his room and closed the door. A few minutes later, he came back out and down the stairs, landing heavily in the chair opposite us, staring blankly at the screen. JC had nodded off and was stretched out in the corner of the couch, pout in place. I moved to the opposite end of the couch, near the chair.

"So."

"So."

"You like her?"

He was trying not to smile. It wasn't working. "She's pretty cool. We talked a lot about law school. She's thinking about going."

"Really. Makes sense." I waited for more details, but they didn't come. He watched the screen as if it was the most interesting thing he'd ever watched. "Uhm. So, there was an awful lot of blushing and grinning for nothing happening."

"Nothing happened. Seriously. We just... you know." His eyes darted over to me and back to the TV. His cheeks were taking on a ruddy texture again, and he shifted in his seat.

"Listen, Tyler. I just want you to know-- I don't know Allison all that well. Just be careful. I can't guarantee that she's, you know, safe"

"I know. She told me. I'm being careful. I know you don't think I am, but I am. And I know you don't believe nothing happened, but nothing happened, last night. She's sweet, but I'm not an idiot."

"She is sweet, isn't she?"

He reached across the space between the couch and the chair and patted my hand and then got up. "Thanks for the intro. I better hit the showers. I got some stuff to do before I go pick her up."

"Have a good time tonight."

"Oh, I will. Hoping what didn't happen last night will happen tonight." He walked away with a wink and an evil grin.

My jaw dropped to my chest as I watched him jog away and up the stairs. I hadn't ever heard him be so forward before. "See, and I was having such good thoughts about you, Tyler."

*

The old nervousness was back. That heavy, lead feeling in the pit of my stomach that made me almost sick. The shaky, light-headed, spacy feeling that I hated and wouldn't go away. I crossed and uncrossed my legs in the airport terminal, a foot shaking mindlessly back and forth as I chewed a fingernail-- a nervous habit I picked up from JC and needed to get rid of.

"Okay, sweetie, here you go." A steaming cup of coffee was handed to me-- vanilla spice, from the scent that rose to my nose. I took it, trying to cool it by blowing through the small hole in the top of the lid.

"Did you put sugar in it?"

"Yes, I put sugar in it. I know how you like your coffee." He sipped gingerly, smacked his lips and set the cup down on the table next to his seat. "Still pretty hot. Good, though. Taste it."

I sipped, and closed my eyes the hot liquid slipped down my throat. Soothing. Warm. So good. I started to relax. "Yum. That is really good. And perfect on the sugar. Thank you." I sat back, blowing out a breath, uncrossing my legs, then crossing them again.

"Nervous?"

"Yeah."

JC reached over and grabbed a hand, enclosing it in his grasp, rubbing and soothing it. "This should be a short flight. You'll be okay."

"I don't think I'm nervous about the flight," I said, just as the speakers announced the boarding call. "Oh my God. Here we go."

"You'll be fine. Here," he said, holding out the handle of my carry on case. I took it, my boarding pass and coffee cup in the other hand, and stepped into the line, breathing deeply, nervous as hell.

Once the plane reached altitude, I was relatively fine. I was never so grateful to have JC next to me as I was on that flight. He took my hand, winding his fingers between mine and didn't let go until we landed in Denver. It was early March, sunny and crisp and green. The first thing I noted as we headed toward the rental car was how clean the air was. I could take a deep breath in, and blow it out. The air smelled like trees. Evergreen. I loved Colorado.

"So, I think it's best if I go meet them alone, don't you?"

"Probably. Wouldn't look good with me hovering. But I'll go, if you want."

We had checked into the hotel and were situating ourselves in the suite, setting out necessary things like toiletry bags and shoes, hanging our clothes for later. I sat on the edge of the bed, bouncing on the mattress.

"Nice and firm," I commented.

"And doesn't make noise," he said, watching me from the closet. "I like that in a bed."

I laid back, sighing. "I bet it's high on your list of favorite features."

"What's that supposed to mean?" He moved over to the bed, kneeling from the other side, bending over me.

"Just, you know. You... you know."

"I don't know. Why don't you tell me."

"Well. You're just uhm. Forceful." He tilted his head, and raised an eyebrow. "But in a good way," I added.

"Oh. Do you like that?"

"I love that."

"Good, then I won't change that."

"Don't you dare."

"I don't dare. Ever." He leaned down to kiss me, but bent over me upside down, he missed my lips and got my chin, and laughed. "Oops. Lemme try that again." He made his mark that time, gently pecking at my lips, lightly biting them.

"Come here," I whispered, sitting up and turning around, tucking my hand behind his head and pulling him toward me. "Mmmph," I heard as I pressed my mouth to his, then pushed so he laid back against the mattress, climbing on top of him, devouring him.

"Hellooooo," he said, drawing out the last syllable, grinning up at me when I finally released his bottom lip.

"Hi, I said, grinning down at him.

"So. You wanna finish what you started or...?"

"Later. Let's go see some stuff." I climbed off of him and stood at the mirror, raking my fingers through my hair.

"You are..."

"A cock tease? Yeah. Get up, let's go, I'm hungry."

"Of course you are." He grumbled, rolling off of the bed, adjusting himself. I watched him run his eyes down the length of my body. "You owe me, young lady."

I turned and wiggled my brows at him. "I know. My mouth totally just wrote a check that my ass is gonna cash later. And it will like it." I reached for my handbag-- which coincidentally matched my blouse-- and put on my best innocent look. "I'm ready."

"So am I. But we have go look at stuff." He wagged his head and that cute way I loved and mumbled as he checked his pocket for his wallet and his phone. "You have a keycard, right? I already lost mine, I think."

"Have you ever been to Denver, JC?" We were 15 miles from Mt Evans, one of the most scenic spots and highest paved roads in Denver. I hadn't been there since I was a little girl, but the view had stuck in my memory and I wanted to see it again-- and share it with him.

"I'm sure I have." He was reclining comfortably in the passenger seat, enthralled in the red rocks and green grass and clear blue skies. He looked over at me, a smirky grin on his lips. "I used to tour you know. In this band. Called *Nsync. Maybe you heard of us?"

"Huh uh," I said, shaking my head. "Not ringing a bell."

"Mmmm. Wow. You need to get out more." He turned back to the scenic view from his window, but after a few seconds his head turned back to me. "How about my debut album Schizophrenic? I toured on that album. Sound familiar?"

"Nope."

He shook his head, trying to keep himself from bursting into a laugh. "Man, I feel sorry for you. That was a great album."

"It was? What was great about it?"

"Well, I mean. I don't want to toot my own horn or anything--"

"Toot away, sweetheart. Tell me all about it."

"I just, you know. I just heard that it was edgy, really varied, experimental, even. Versatile, was a good word." He nodded at me, then went back to staring out of the window.

"Hm. Sounds like someone would really miss out, if it wasn't say, the highest on their 25 most played albums on iTunes."

"Definitely."

"So... debut tends to make me think follow up."

"Does it? Hmmm. Will have to consider one. I wonder if we'll see any wildlife."

"Maybe a mountain goat or two," I mused, remembering seeing one long ago. "So you don't want to talk about music?"

"I don't mind talking about music."

"Says the man who just changed the subject to wildlife."

"I can talk about more than one thing at a time. For example, there's a deer over there," he said, pointing up into the hills. "And, I think I'm close to deciding to go after another deal. I think. I don't know. I'm pretty comfortable."

"Pretty deer. And, is comfortable where you want to be?"

"Rabbit. I don't mean complacent. I just kind of like my life how it is, right now. I come and go as I please. People know me but for a really large part, I can kind of do what I want. I know where I can go and where I shouldn't go. I don't want that to change. It will, if I blow up again."

"Right. Damned if you do..."

"And if I don't, people will never stop asking for more music." He turned his head, giving me a sarcastic glare.

"Well, pardon me for wanting to hear that sexy voice sing something new."

"I don't blame you. It's pretty awesome."

We passed the welcome sign, the first clue that we were ascending toward the summit. It would be a slow drive to the top of the mountain, from the sunny, dry land at the foot, getting colder and slightly gray, with patches of snow the higher we climbed. We passed a lake, a crystal clear reflection of the mountain in it. JC was like a child, pointing out out every sign of life he could find.

"We used to take a lot of trips. You know, go see stuff like the biggest ball of twine. Stuff like that. I miss sightseeing."

"It's nice, isn't it? Really pretty, up here."

I felt the warmth and weight of his hand on the inside of my thigh, gripping gently, squeezing. "The company is nice, too."

"I have to agree with that," I said, nodding, smiling over at him. "Definitely."

Unfortunately, the top of the hill did not mean the summit. We were tempted to climb the extra few hundred feet to the top, but I was wearing completely the wrong shoes for mountain climbing. I also forgot how cold it was that at that altitude. I stood next JC, who was admiring the view from every angle, shivering and trying to keep my teeth from chattering. By the time he noticed I was cold, I was nearly blue and shaking uncontrollably.

"Geez, why didn't you say something? Let's go." He pushed me toward the car and held his hand out for the key. "I'll drive." He started the car and blasted the heat, then headed down the hill.

"Cold aside, this was a nice little trip. It's peaceful. A good place to come and think."

I shivered, the last of my shakes rippling through me. "Yeah let's come think in the summer."

He laughed at my dramatics and turned the vents toward me. "Good idea."

We spent the day tooling around downtown Denver, walking the streets, taking in the sights, holding hands, talking, laughing, stealing a kiss or two. He'd never kissed me in public before and I wasn't really big on PDA's but it meant a lot to me that he felt comfortable enough to just kiss me, without looking around first, or looking at me like he'd like to kiss me but he was concerned about pictures. It was unnerving at first, that he didn't touch me in public, but just as I started to get used to it, he would hold my hand if we were inside, drop an arm around my shoulder at the movie theater, walk behind me with his chin on my shoulder at the grocery store. As soon as we hit the hotel room or the house though, he was all over me, more than making up for what he didn't do in the public eye.

We had reservations at a restaurant that the concierge suggested, a few blocks from the hotel. As we settled into our table, the waiter prattled off the specials and filled our water glasses. Leaving us with two menus, he slipped away quietly. The restaurant was nearly full, low-lit, very romantic.

"What's the plan, tomorrow? Where do you have to be, and when?"

The schedule ran through my head, as it had been running for days, now. "I need to be at... uhm... my grandparents for lunch around noon. And I am meeting my dad for dinner at 6."

"Cool," he said, dropping his eyes back to the menu.

"I'm sorry. I'll stop talking about him."

His head popped up, eyes wide with surprise. "Why? No, what? Why?"

"You just... get this... look or have this reaction when I bring him up. Are you jealous?"

"No, I'm not jealous." I stared at the top of his head when he bent it back down to browse the menu. "Not really."

"Explain."

Slowly, he closed the oversize menu and tucked in his lap, leaning forward. "I'm not jealous. I'm happy for you that you get this chance. And it's not that I don't want to meet my dad-- my biological one-- it's that I don't want to have to go looking for him. I don't want to dig him up and force myself into his life." He paused. "I kind of wish my dad was like 'Oh my God, I've been looking for you, I wanted to meet you.' "

"Do you think maybe he thinks the same way? Like, maybe he knows who you are and--"

"That used to be one of my fantasies," he said, wistful, staring into space, his eyes glassy. "I mean, Roy, my dad is... awesome. My parents are supercool, but you know, the transition, after they adopted me was rough. I didn't rebel, I kind of withdrew, into myself. I would daydream about him coming to find me. After I started doing MMC, I would think, you know, 'I'm on TV now, there's no way he doesn't see himself staring back'. And then you know with *Nsync, I was too busy to even really dream but sometimes I'd look at like, Lance and his dad and be like 'that's his actual dad', and Lance looks more like James everyday. Joey and Joe Sr, they look so much alike. Chris knew his dad, Justin knows his dad. And I'm so not down on Roy, he's my dad but..."

"But not." I smiled a knowing smile, leaning to catch his line of sight. "Terry Willis and Serena Karides had some screaming matches, back in the day." He laughed, thankfully, the tension easing. "I love him, but there was a lot of 'you're not my dad' tossed around. Like you said to me, I've never read of an adoptee not having an adjustment period."

"Should I still be adjusting at 32?"

"I think it's a lifetime thing, handsome. Every once in awhile, I still have an old pang or two. It happens."

"Good to know I'm normal."

"Wait, I thought we were both fucked up."

"Nope, I think we just crossed into normal. Congrats, honey." He raised his water glass and took a sip. "So, enough about me. It's all about you, this weekend. You're okay, about tomorrow?"

I shook my head, correcting him. "It's all about us, JC. Always. Okay?"

He nodded, giving me the tight lipped grin again, and opened his menu. "I'm hungry."

"Of course you are. You're going to need some strength. For later."

"See, don't start. That's how people get hurt."

After dinner we strolled the few blocks to the hotel-- slowly, leisurely, holding hands, tossing movie trivia back and forth. I felt closer to him than I had ever felt before, closer even than on our last trip. I liked being 'away' with him, where he could relax and almost fade into the crowd, where people didn't seem to be watching his every step, and he got nothing more than few smiles and waves. I felt like he was more 'him' when we were out of town. I loved 'him', wished I could see more of 'him', and him being himself meant I was more myself, too. Flirty and playful and open and not scared of feeling something real for him. I didn't figure, anymore, that he was in this for some kind of extended groupie experience. I didn't feel like I was 'someone to do', for him. The feeling, the incredibly free feeling of not being wary and afraid was something I had never felt before, and I never wanted to not feel it ever again.

There was still the matter of his celebrity, something he tried hard to keep me out of, and I appreciated it. There was a moderate amount of drama in my family and my past. The very last thing I wanted was for it all to be highlighted in some cheap TMZ expose`, so people could pass judgment and wonder 'what's he doing with her? Couldn't he find someone that wasn't so messed up?' and then finally decide 'he could do so much better.' I knew from experience that sometimes those words just fell out, and you didn't really mean them, it was just that you wanted your crush to have the best of the best. The fairy tale, if you could help it. The only problem was that there was no such thing as the fairy tale. Even our seemingly happy relationship had its issues. So far, nothing insurmountable, but it was still early.

My feet ached, by the time we reached the hotel room. I took my shoes off in the elevator and followed JC to the room, strappy sandals and a cute evening bag dangling from one hand, the other up under his shirt, lightly scratching his back.

"You're just digging yourself into a hole, missy," he commented over his shoulder.

I stepped close behind him and slid my arm around to his stomach, relishing in the feeling of his abdominals. "Good. The deeper the better."

He chuckled and ran his keycard down the strip. The door beeped and he pushed it open, walking inside with me on his heels.

"I don't even want any foreplay," I declared, sprawling onto the bed, dumping the shoes and bag over the side, then spreading my hair out like a fan around my head. "Just come over here."

"Nope. That's not how I work."

"I beg to differ," I said, lifting up onto my elbows, watching him pull his clothing off, slowly. "Several times you've been ...... in a hurry."

"That doesn't mean there wasn't foreplay. It just wasn't in the bed. Be right back," he said, slipping into the bathroom. Frustrated, I laid back down, staring at the ceiling. The door opened and he stepped out in his briefs, tossing his jeans into the open suitcase in the closet. He extended his hand to me and nodded his head back toward the bathroom. "Let's take a shower."

"You are going to make this torture, aren't you?"

A slow, evil grin spread across his lips. "Every minute. Come on, cutie. Get up, get naked, let's go."

The shower was torture. Sheer pleasureful, wonderful torture as he squeezed some of my sweet smelling shower gel onto a towel and lathered my body, neck to feet, then dropped the towel and used his hands to rinse away the soapy, creamy texture. He scrubbed himself the same way, forbidding me to touch him, paying particular attention to his genitals. I was ready, nipples taut and skin flushed red with desire; He was ready, erect, pulsing, but wouldn't let me take care of him-- it was driving me out of my mind to see a need and not satisfy it, to have a need and not have it satisfied. He pulled me close to him finally and I heaved a sigh of relief, almost climaxing from the feel of lips on mine, his tongue forcing my mouth open, stroking, playing. The walls echoed our moans and whimpers and heavy breathing and when he reached around to turn off the stream of cooling water, my entire body rejoiced.

He picked up two large, fluffy towels and handed me one. "For your hair," he said, nodding to the mass of dripping wet waves. I wrapped my hair and stood there while he rubbed the water from my skin with the other towel, then watched him grab another towel and wipe himself down. Both were left in a pile in the corner of the bathroom as he took my hand and led me back to the bed that seemed to take up the majority of the room.

I unwrapped my hair, made a lame effort at detangling it, then just left it. I could do that later. "Lotion or no?" He shook his head, reaching under the pillows to grab at the sheets, yanking them down the bed.

He patted the mattress twice. "Lay yourself right here, sweetheart."

"And hang on for the ride?"

"That'll come later," he said, with a sarcastic toss of his head and a wide smile. I squealed and hopped into the bed, laying back, my hands reaching out to him as he laid next to me. I moaned, deep and low, when I finally got to touch him, run my fingers along the stubble on his cheek, glide my hands along his shoulders, wrap my arms around him and lay my palms on his back and feel the dance of his muscles under his skin. His groans matched mine as he lowered himself to me, then unexpectedly planted the softest, most tender kiss on my lips once, twice, three times.

He pulled back, found my eyes, hesitated for just a second, and then whispered, so very softly that I just barely heard it. "I love you."

I swallowed, and tears instantly sprang to my eyes and I tried to say 'I love you, too', but I couldn't hold back the sob-- or the giggle-- so I'm sure I sounded like I was strangling. He laughed, I thought more out of nerves than anything, and to lighten the mood. "You okay?"

I nodded, grasped his face between my hands, stroked his cheeks with my thumbs. His thumbs were working, rubbing against the skin of my thighs as his hands slid along the length of them, up and down, around to the curve of my bottom and back again. "That's the world's most beautiful sound, you know that?"

"What, you choking?"

"Be serious, JC. You, saying you love me. I love you, too."

"See, to me, that is a beautiful sound, right there." He leaned in and kissed me again, feather soft, light. "You have been very patient with me. I appreciate not being pressured to say it."

"Well, you know... we didn't need two of us acting crazy." I lifted my lips to his and brushed them against him. "You're welcome. Say it as often as you like."

"You, too. I like hearing it."

"Can we make love, now?"

He chuckled, bent to kiss me and mumbled against my lips, "Yes, impatient girl in the bed. We can make love now."