A thin, silver watch reflected the bright light from overhead as it hung from my wrist, making it a convenient object to play with, turning and spinning it involuntarily in between incessantly checking the face of it for the time.

How was it still 6:50? And where was JC, who was annoyingly early for everything except when I expected him to be early?

It was New Year's Eve, and anticipation for a magical night was riding high. I turned the tables on JC and arranged an evening for us, beginning with drinks at the hotel bar at 7pm, ending with a surprise that I was so sure he would love that it had been difficult to keep it from him. I'd spent the entire vacation biting my tongue, warring with myself. I almost told him a few times but now, standing in the middle of the opulent, bustling lobby, was so happy that I didn't.

I dressed quickly and left the room as JC finished his shower. Sure that he would be downstairs early, I paced the bar entrance for more than 20 minutes, listening for the bell that would announce the elevator. Every time the door opened, I expected him to glide out of that enclosed box. Every time the person that exited wasn't him, my chest tightened up just a little bit more.

I sucked in a deep breath and tried to relax. It wasn't like a lot was riding on the turnout of the evening. Even if my plans crashed and burned, he would be with me the next morning. But I wanted it to be perfect. I wanted everything to go exactly as I planned it. He said, so many times, that he could tell how much I loved him by how I treated him. That night, he'd know beyond any doubt how I felt about him.

I paced the floors, my heels clicking against the shiny marble, mere background noise to my thoughts. I smiled to myself, thinking back on the day and the events that led up to nervously casing the hallway, anxiously anticipating his arrival.

The day had started early, but in a way I didn't really mind...

"Yeah! Right there! Fuck! Yes!"

"You like that?"

"Yeah. Don't stop! Please don't stop!"

"Come on, mama. Grind on me... work those hips... yeah, that's good...ahhhhshit..."

"Wait for me! I'm close... shit! Oh my...... God!"

I loved when we awoke naked. Limbs entwined, a film of dried sweat on our skin, hair mussed and wild. It usually meant that we'd had back breaking, earth shattering, exhausting sex mere hours before, so much that we'd just collapsed against each other and passed out without getting up to shower or throw something on to sleep in. To me, it was evidence of how much we enjoyed each other. 

I almost felt sorry for our neighbor. It had to suck to be on vacation and wake up, just after sunrise, to thumping from the other side of the wall, muffled grunts and strangled cries from the sex fiends next door. I'd have been pissed if it were it me... but on my side of the wall, things were glorious.

"Mmmhmm, mama....so good."

JC buried his face in my neck, his teeth nipping at damp skin as I laid on top of him, where I had collapsed after an energy-sapping climax. A low grunt from my belly was all I could manage for a few minutes. I gave it some time, riding the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest as his breathing slowed from shallow, post-marathon gulps of air to a deep, slow, normal pace.

"That was good," I croaked into his bicep, my throat raw and dry. He flexed under me, which made me smile. I kissed the skin there and gently rolled myself until I was laying half on and half off of him. 

"Where you goin'?"

"Nowhere," I sighed. "Ever. Staying right here, sexy."

The morning crept by slowly. Peacefully. Quietly. It was exactly what I wanted. No rushing and no hurrying, finally a day with no one else's agenda to fulfill and no one pulling on us. I managed to get JC into a shower with me before sandwiches from room service were delivered, and then we ate slowly, chatting about random, inane things like cereal and shoes, stretching the day as far as it would go.

JC crunched a potato chip loudly, distracted by the copy of the Denver Post that he was halfway reading. "So, our neighbor came out of his room when I opened the door for room service."

"Oh?" An eyebrow lifted in curiosity. I was almost embarrassed. "Did he say anything?"

"Nope," JC answered, and then glanced up at me. "He gave me this shit eatin' grin, though. Kinda laughed while he was walking down the hall."

I giggled to myself, and then sighed and took a sip from a bottle of water. "No complaints, so he must have liked listening."

"Maybe. I'm waiting on phone calls from people telling me some blogger wrote about being in a room next to JC Chasez and some girl that screamed a lot."

"Sounds like a compliment, to me."

"A compliment to whom? How do I know you're not that loud when you're alone?"  Nonchalant, JC flipped through the newspaper, picking up a story that had been continued from the front page.

"I'm the only one that makes noise? You've been known to make a sound or two. Like last night, you-"

"But you're the loudest," JC argued, glancing up at me out of the corner of his eye, a smirk crawling across his lips. "For sure, he was hearing you, not me."

"We've gone over this before," I said, poking at the paper as I made my point. "It's all. your. fault."

JC grinned and gave a cocky headshake. "I still got it."

"Mmmhmm. That you do," I agreed. "And modesty too."

After lunch, while we sprawled out and indulged in awful daytime TV, JC had rolled himself across the bed toward me and laid his head on my knee.

"What time do we have to be at this party tonight?" From the tone of his voice, he seemed to be dreading it, though it was the whole reason we were in Denver. "And how long did you want to stay? And is Katrina supposed to be there?"

 "Uhm, actually," I started to explain to him that I'd made other plans, but his head shot up and a deep "V" formed between his eyes. "JC, I...I canceled. You don't want to go, anyway. At least it seems like you don't."

He stared for a few seconds, blinked several times and then, lying on his side and leaning on his elbow, dropped his chin into the palm of his hand. "You're wimping out? You came out here to be with your family." He seemed frustrated, huffing a deep sigh. "I mean, it's not about me, is it? Because I'm fine. Really."

"It is about you, but not in a bad way-"

JC sat up halfway, his eyes nearly blazing. "What's that mean? What other way could it be, besides bad?"

I almost laughed at how alarmed he seemed, concerned that I canceled plans to attend a party with Charles and his wife because he was uncomfortable about Katrina. She was so far from my mind-except that she'd be so jealous about how we were spending our evening.

"JC... baby, relax. Okay? It's fine." I stretched my arms across the bed to land a few comforting taps on his arm. "I'm out of town on New Year's Eve with my super hot, super sexy boyfriend. The last place I want to be at midnight is around people I don't really know, pretending to feel close to them. I want to be alone with you."

I wiggled my brows at him and watched the worry in his face melt away, replaced by a child like curiosity. He was starting to catch my drift. His eyes opened wide, framed by those lashes I loved so much.

"Okay. I get that. So then...what are we doing? You must have a plan."

Teasing him, I nodded slowly. "Well... I thought maybe I could take you out on a date."

"A date?" He snickered, pushing a pillow aside and sitting up, moving next to me so his face was inches from mine. "It's uhm...kind of late notice, isn't it? Don't all those rule books you girls read say you shouldn't accept last minute dates? Except you always do. Because... I'm JC Chasez."

A snort escaped before I could stop it. "You're a cocky pop star today. I don't like to play games. And you don't like me to say no. Besides..." I reached for his arm, smoothing down the thick patches of hair and dragging the tips of my nails across his wrist before sliding my fingers between his. His eyes slammed closed and I saw a shiver run across his shoulder before he opened them again. "The date isn't last minute. I put a lot of time and effort into my plan. You'll love it. Just say yes."

"So..." He swallowed hard, his eyes turning a smoky blue green, just as I thought they would.  "Suppose I say yes to this...date. What are we doing? Where are we going?"

"Oh, I have plans, my love. But most of it is a surprise." He groaned as his head dropped to my shoulder. I laughed and reached up to run my fingers through his hair. "Oh, stop whining. It'll be fun. So, yes? You'll go on a date with me?"

He mumbled something into my neck that sounded like, "Yes."

I scratched his scalp, dropped a kiss onto his forehead and then rolled away from him. Despite his throaty whine, I got up from the bed, stretching my limbs. "We should get moving, then. We have errands to run." 

The chipper ‘ding' of the elevator signaled its arrival, dragging me from pleasant recent memory. The doors hung open for a few seconds, but no one came out. My shoulders almost sagged with disappointment but just as the doors were closing, I saw a wing tipped shoe jam in between them and the doors opened again.

My heartbeat banged in heavy, staccato rhythm as a head of dark hair poked out of the elevator, turning left and then right. His eyes found me right away, crinkled at the sides, his forehead creased with laugh lines. He knew I would be standing right there waiting for him. 

His head disappeared again, only to reappear a moment later, followed by the rest of him as he stepped out of the elevator and literally floated down the hallway.  Watching him saunter toward me in my favorite of his suits- velvet Armani with satin lapels- a half grin on his lips and piercing blue eyes shooting through me made my heart flutter and my entire body thump.

God, he was gorgeous. He looked good enough to eat.

Strong, large, warm hands wrapped around my waist as he bent to kiss me. I could barely breathe for sucking in the scent of him, pungent and masculine and musky and delicious. My mind flashed back to the night I met him, when I slid into the car beside him and his scent was embedded in the interior. Not overwhelming...intoxicating. 

My hands roamed him, smoothing down the crushed velvet of his jacket, straightening his multi-color tie. "Have I told you, yet, that you look amazing?"

JC laughed and pulled back, sliding his hands down my arms until my hands were swallowed up in his. "If anyone looks amazing right now, it's you. Turn around. Let me see you."

I turned in my dress, the online find that I had to have so badly that I paid for it before I had even seen it. The silk and spandex strapless clingy sheath fell to a perfect mid-thigh length, hugged the good curves and blessedly masked the bad ones. The hotel salon had refreshed my hair's normal shine and bounce, which I wore in its natural wave down my back. The diamonds JC bought me for my birthday winked from beneath my hair and I was nearly as tall as him in the strappiest heels I could find and still walk in, certainly more appropriate for a date with my boyfriend than a party with my birth father's family.

I felt gorgeous. Amazing. Beautiful. Like I belonged with him. 

"You are perfect." He bent to kiss me again and I met him halfway, my entire body pulsing toward him.

"I can't breathe, you look so good. And so uhm..." I stifled a giggle and braced for a reaction. "Uh, relaxed."

While I picked up my dress and stopped at the salon, I surprised him by dropping him off at a masculine gentleman's spa, one that Charles had recommended to me weeks before. I ordered them to give him The Works- a haircut and a hot shave, then a Swedish massage and a manicure and pedicure. Sheer decadence, though the look on his face when they handed him a black robe and a towel and pointed him toward a back room in the testosterone-laden shop told me I'd be hearing some shit about it later. He didn't want to go, but I wanted him nice and relaxed. He needed to go.

"Are you mad at me? Was the man spa weird?"

JC's eyes narrowed and his chest barreled with his deep inhale. His eyes closed for a few seconds, while he seemed to search for something nice to say. I cringed, anticipating some bitching.

"Actually... I kind of liked it. The massage was nice, and they gave me this scalp treatment. It feels like when you scratch my head, you know? I liked that." He grinned then, his eyes betraying a touch of irritation. "I'm not much for the spa thing, but what saved your ass is the part where I pulled out my wallet and they said it was all taken care of. That was probably my favorite part." 

I didn't know if he was putting up a good front or if he was really happy with the experience. I stared at him, waiting for more. He stared back, and then laughed, then gave me a sideways look. "What? I can't like a massage?"

"I... no... you can. I just... nothing." I laughed, more than a little relieved. "You're such a dork." I offered my hand and he took it, letting me lead him toward the entrance to the bar. "Are we ready for drinks?"

He nodded, flashing a gorgeous smile, which set my heart slamming around in my chest, again. If he kept that up, we wouldn't make it to dinner. Our host was standing at the podium just outside the bar. As we approached, he pulled two bar menus from their holder and smiled in our direction.

"You both look ready for a great New Year's Eve."

"We're on a date," JC told him, grinning widely. "She's gonna get me liquored up and take advantage of me. And I can't wait."

"You don't need to get drunk for that to happen, babe."

We were led to a booth along the edge of the bar that curved around in a semi circle so we could slide to the center and sit next to each other. Slightly hidden from most of the bar, we were in full view of the piano supplying soothing, calming background noise to other patrons enjoying an early evening drink.

"Nice," JC mused, glancing over the list of cocktails and wines, and then poking his head up and over the back of the booth before settling into his seat again. One of his hands slid under the table and over my thigh and rubbed, lightly, back and forth. The feeling was electric-I fought the urge to just lean back and let his hands travel to their heart's content. Later. There would be time for that later. 

Instead, I slid a hand over his lap and squeezed a muscular thigh. "Dating you has taught me a lot about what's nice. I want you to enjoy yourself, tonight. Order whatever you want. Relax. Have a good time."

His hand flexed, wrapped around my thigh. He leaned in close to me and brushed his lips lightly across mine. "I am relaxed, thanks to you. And I am already having the best time. You relax."

Our waitress came around to our table and took our drink orders and slipped away again, leaving us alone in our cocoon of privacy. I couldn't stop touching him, gliding one hand up and down his thigh and the other up and down his arm.

"You look so good. You seem rested. You feel good?"

JC toyed with a paper napkin, twisting and rolling it in his hands. "I wasn't all that excited about it at first. You knew I wouldn't be; which is why you snuck that in there, on me. The girl that gave me my massage, though, kept saying how tight I was across the shoulders. I carry tension in my neck and my back. I've been stressed out, I guess. Must be obvious." He glanced at me, apologizing with his eyes, and shrugged a shoulder. "So, I just relaxed and got into it. I was feeling pretty good after a couple of minutes. Almost had a happy ending."

I choked on a laugh. "You didn't, JC."

"Well, I almost fell asleep. It was nice. And they did my hands." He waved his fingers at me, holding them out so I could see that they were clean and shaped and buffed. "Wait until you see my feet."

"Oh? Did you get your toenails painted?"

"Maybe," he answered, smug. "You're not the only one with a surprise."  Our waitress came back with our drinks and disappeared again. JC uncapped his beer and I took a delicious sip of a fizzy berry martini.

"So," I said, licking my lips and sliding my glass away-couldn't get too tipsy too early. "It's our first, official New Year's Eve together. I'm really excited about that."

"Yep, it is," JC said, squeezing me again. Making my heart race again. "That's why I came out here with you, to be with you on our first New Year's Eve."

"I hesitate to mention that you're sweet to me, but I love that you came with me. You didn't have to, and you didn't make me ask. It just seemed too much to take you away from your annual tradition of Miami debauchery."

"Yeah. I'm wild." He grunted a laugh. "It was time for a new tradition, so I traded in my old one. Upgrade."  My face was red-hot-some from the alcohol, but mostly from my blush. "You have a new tradition, too. Didn't you usually spend New Year's Eve with Melissa?"

I suddenly missed her, terribly. I had forgotten about our yearly party and wondered how she and Annette were spending their New Year's Eve. "Except last year everyone meeting you totally overshadowed everything. I was so nervous."

"Especially..." He paused, his bottle halfway to his lips, to laugh. "Especially after you told her I was good in bed, and you were scared she would mention it, so you actually sat me down and confessed to telling her that. Like that was a bad thing to say." He took a long pull off of his bottle, so cold that the condensation was dripping off of the end.

I scrunched my nose at him, my skin flushing a deeper red. "I was so scared that you'd be mad I said anything at all. I'm pretty sure I've said and done far worse since then and you're still hanging on."

JC laughed. "By a thread, honey. By a thread."

"Well, it's not like you've been an angel, either. I haven't been fighting with myself for a year."

He leaned into me again and nipped at my bare shoulder sending a wave of goosebumps across my body. I shivered, but not from cold. He was just so damn sexy. "You like it when I'm not an angel."

I relished the sensation of his hands moving up and down my leg. I gripped the inside of his thigh, my nails digging through fabric of his slacks into his skin. "I sure do," I said, practically purring. "You're my bad, bad boy."

He chuckled, low and slow in my ear. "You remember later, that night? What happened? What you said to me?"

How could I forget? I felt like sliding lower in my seat, under the table. "For the record, I never meant to actually tell you that I loved you. It slipped out-"

"Because you were drunk. Alcohol makes you say things you want to say, but won't let yourself. That's why you freak out when you drink. You're afraid I'll find out all your secrets." He smiled and nudged me with his elbow. "But I already knew you loved me. I told you, I can tell."

He'd said it, but never before in that context, in that way. I must have stared at him, wide eyed, for a full minute before he leaned down and kissed me. It broke the spell and I managed to look away, still unsure of what to say in response. I wondered, then, how long he had known, and if I'd never said anything, would he have said it, first?

"I've been thinking about it, you know," JC was saying, oblivious to the muddy waters that my mind had become in just a few seconds. "About this time, when people reset themselves. Tomorrow starts a whole new year. We have complete control over how we want it to go. That's pretty powerful."

"Well. I'm an overachiever. I got a kickass new job and moved across the country. A month early, to boot. That's enough new for two years." I gulped a swallow of berry flavored cocktail, shaking my head as it splashed down my throat.

"Those weren't the only goals you had, though. I mean, there's still work to do with Regina. Right? And getting to know your dad and his family. There's building there that has to be done. And then there's, you know... us." He paused, waiting to see if I would respond.  When I didn't, he added, "Because I have some goals. Some of them include you."

"Yeah?" I braved a glance up at him, though only out of the corner of one eye. I knew exactly what he meant.   

JC nodded and just as I was sure he was about to bring it up again, he chose a different path. "Then there's my music. I always have goals for my writing and producing. I'd like to keep building my category of songs. Get more songs written by me on albums and radio. Every year, I want to do something big, you know?" He sighed, his eyes dropping to the smooth surface of the table. "Just, every year I don't quite make it. But I'm already closer this year than I've ever been before."

I stretched up to kiss his cheek, my lips lingering on his warm, smooth skin. "This is the furthest I've seen you come in a long time. You deserve to be here and I'm so proud of you for coming this far. Please don't give up, JC. Do it for your fans. Do it for yourself. Or do it for me. Just...just do it."

He raised his bottle to me, a swallow left in the bottom. I lifted my nearly empty glass to him. "How about for us? You and me. How's that?"

We tapped glass to glass and drank on it. A quick glance at my watch made my heart race. I gulped down the last of my drink and waved at our waitress. "It's almost time for dinner. And it's freezing outside, I'm sure. I want to run upstairs and get my coat."

JC was already sliding out of the booth. "I'll get it. You get the check. I'll meet you out front."

I watched his retreating back weave through the nearly full room, nodding at patrons here and there. He turned on the charm, smiling and shaking hands, making his way out of the bar and back through the lobby, where I lost sight of him.

Only then did I feel safe to breathe deeply, in and then out. I'd just dodged a bullet, but wasn't really sure if I was happy about that. For the first time in months, he didn't push a conversation about our future. He was obviously still thinking about it, but he was giving me space. All at once I was grateful and regretful--I had more time to think and live in the moment of our relationship, but I hoped he hadn't given up. A small part of me sort of longed to know that he still wanted what I wasn't ready for.    

Owning a chain of auto supply stores must have its perks. As a Christmas gift to us, Charles arranged for a car and a driver for us for the evening.  When the jet black, long, shiny car pulled to the curb, I felt so very VIP and socialite. The driver, short and stout, got out of the car and came around to open the door for us. I stooped to get inside, sliding across the cool leather seats. JC followed and adjusted himself until he was comfortable.

"This is my first limo ride," I confessed, feeling the car shift into gear and pull away from the curb. "Pretty cool."

"Well, enjoy the hell out of it, honey. It's nice. For awhile there, we only traveled in limos and stuff. Buses and big ass cars." He poked around the backseat, opening panels and drawers and pressing buttons. "This is your standard limo, pretty much."

I snickered. "You really are a cocky pop star today. A standard limo?"

"Well, I mean, no matter what, you're always gonna find your water, and drinks and various buttons that do things like open the sun roof, roll down the windows." He punched a few buttons as if to demonstrate. I saw the eyes of the driver dart back and forth between the road and the rearview mirror. I smacked his hand away from the buttons and giggled. "Well anyway. Standard."

"It's nothing like Dallas' stretch Hummer, though."

"Oh, yeah." JC laughed to himself. His hand settled on my thigh while the city lights passed by outside of his window. "After a certain length, it's just a waste. Talk about a show off. I think he leases that, though."

Right on time, the car pulled over in front of a row of welcoming, eclectic buildings. The sign for Fruition jutted out over our heads as we climbed out of the car and made the short walk to the entrance. Just a few steps inside the warm, comfortable restaurant, I was already feeling at home. The floors were wood, the décor was bright with splashes of reds and yellows, and the smells from the kitchen were amazing.

The twinkling lights of downtown Denver from our table on the second floor gave a scenic backdrop that added to the building romance. After glancing through the expansive wine and imported beers list, there was nothing to do but enjoy the soft, quiet music, the beautiful view from the floor to ceiling windows next to us, and the pleasure of each other's company.

JC's foot tapped against mine, under the table. "I don't even get a hint? What's after dinner?"

I giggled. Dammit, he was cute. "You can't stand it, can you?"

"Not so much," he answered, laughing with me. "It's driving me crazy."

"Welcome to my world. I'm not giving any hints because you'll talk me into giving it away."

"No, I won't," he whined. "Just a hint."

"Stop asking. Change the subject."

"Fine," he moped, but brightened as our drinks and appetizers arrived. As soon as the waiter left our table, he held his glass of wine in the air. "Toast. To the New Year." 

"To the New Year," I said back, lifting my glass. I lightly tapped it against his and watched him watch me as we sipped our wine together.

"So, this is kind of your last hurrah or whatever, before you start the new gig. Big new important job. In LA. You ready?"

He had to remind me. I was slowly becoming more and more nervous about starting my new job. Bits of thought, some negative, had wormed their way in, here and there. Just those bits were enough to scare me to pieces.

I was on my second drink of the night, so I was loose and warm. "Fuck no," I said, my head wagging side to side. "I mean, I'm used to a certain level of responsibility, you know? The move from StarTel to Taylor is like jumping from the minors to the majors. From Pee Wee football to the NFL. Much harder. More work on a bigger scale. I don't want to fall flat on my face. I'm scared I will."

JC lowered his beer bottle long enough to roll his eyes and sneer. "Serena... come on. You interviewed for that job, just like everyone else you beat out. And guess what? You won. You're brilliant, and you know it." His hand slid down my arm, gently and slowly. "It'll be fine. Believe that, because it will."

I attempted a smile and tried to feel comforted. It was one thing to believe it. Quite another to actually do it. This was one time where I'd have to see how things worked out, if JC's words would ring true or if he was just optimistic because he loved me.

Dinner was so elegantly perfect. Fruition was all about small plates-a taste of this, a sample of that. We took turns offering each other bites of things from the crisp green salad with fruits and nuts to the soup and the entrees until our table was littered and stacked with plates of food, each dish just enough for two to share. Then came dessert -- a single, thick slice of chocolate raspberry cake with whipped frosting. We dug in, taking turns with a single fork.

It was perfect, exactly how I imagined it would be.

JC seemed giddy, watching me sign the credit card slip and slide my card back into my wallet. I was having fun treating him to a great day and an even better night. I fully understood what it must be like for him to treat me to something nice or something I rarely got the chance to do. Maybe I wouldn't argue so much the next time he offered to do something nice for me. It was fun to make him smile.

"No girlfriend has ever done this for you? Took you out?"  JC bobbed his head from side to side and pursed his lips in thought. He drank his last drop of coffee and set the delicate cup down in its spot on the saucer.

"Uhm, I'm pretty spoiled," he admitted, his smile almost shy. "It's not the money, though. It's the motive. You're just different. Tonight is all about turning the tables on me, because I do so much for you, and I get that. But you don't act like you deserve it, or whatever, just because I have it to give. You get that if I give it, it's because I care about you. And you want to do the same, because you care about me."

I couldn't possibly wait a minute longer to give him his surprise. Eager to get on with it, I pushed my chair back from the table and stood, offering him my hand. We headed back down the stairs and outside.  As we stepped out into the frigid air, our driver started the car and crossed the street, pulling over in front of us. JC opened the door and we slid into the warm car again.

"Last stop, ma'am?" The driver asked.

"You know  where we're going, right?" He nodded and we were on our way.

"I'm kinda nervous," JC said.

"Don't be."

I threaded my arm up under his and slid my hand across his palm. His hand closed around mine and held on tight. He was paying close attention to the changing scenery as we left downtown and headed toward city limits. In the distance, spot lights crawled the night sky and a marquee flashed. JC craned his neck to see the lettering scrolling across the lit sign.

"Honeyyyyy...." His jaw dropped almost to his chest when we got close enough to see the sign. He pointed, looking out of the window, and then at me, and then out of the window again. "Are we going there? Is that where we're going?"

Smug, I squeezed his hand and grinned up at him. "We're going there. That's where we're going. Are you excited?"

JC laughed and pumped his free fist in the air, then let dropped his arm around my shoulder, pulling me up against him while we sat in traffic, waiting to get to the Paramount Theater. His excitement rocked his body, causing his leg to tap and his throat to hum and his eyes to dance.

The driver rolled down the partition between the front and back seats. "Just a few minutes, Miss Willis. I'll drop you right at the front entrance, but there's a bit of a line."

I nodded at his eyes in the rearview mirror. "Thank you."

"Big Sting fans, are you?"

"The biggest," JC said, practically bouncing out of his seat as we turned the corner. "And Stevie Wonder. I hope they do Brand New Day together."

"They better," I said. "You'll be there. They have to!"

I'd never seen JC excited about anything to the point where he couldn't sit still. It gave me a taste of what he'd be like the night before he did a show. He almost fell out of the car, trying to hop out as soon as we stopped. He just barely caught himself before he hit the ground, then straightened himself and started to laugh.

"I'm not drunk, just happy," he said, offering his hand to help me out of the car.

"It's okay. I like you happy." I pulled our tickets out of my clutch and handed them to him. "Charles gave us his club seats. Supposed to be the best in the house. He said to tell you Merry Christmas and Happy New Year and to have a beer on him."

"Oh... no way. That's so nice of him." He took them and stared at them, as if the words would change while he looked at them. And then his gaze shifted to me, where it lingered for a few seconds. Ever so softly he said, "You really spent some time planning this. It shows. Thank you, honey."

"You're worth it. I love you, so much." I stretched up onto my toes to kiss him, even though we were standing on the busy sidewalk in front of the theater. The pre-show crowd milled around, watching, walking around us, likely staring. I didn't care. If JC minded, it didn't show.

I slid my hand under his arm, into the crook of his elbow, and started walking toward the entrance. "Show starts in a bit. We better get in there."

The Paramount was a 1930's movie house, replete with Art Deco design and old world charm. Where every other building on the block was stone, the Paramount was enhanced by glazed terra cotta. Ornate details on the outside continued on the inside décor-dramatic rosettes, leaves, feathers and ferns decorated the wallpaper and were reflected in the floors. Voices echoed up into the vaulted ceiling over the flamboyantly gilded lobby. We moved slowly, taking in every inch of design and history, from the copper and bronze accents to the framed silk murals on the wall.

We flowed with the crowd, slowly moving toward the theater entrance. JC showed our tickets to the usher standing at the door, who inspected them with a flashlight, handed them back to us, and pointed toward a staircase. "Your seats are upstairs. Third door. Enjoy the show."

The mezzanine was divided into several suites, all with a perfect, elevated view of the stage. A perk of the Club seats were private restrooms, beverage service and coat check. An usher came around to collect our coats and take our drink orders. JC and I settled into our seats, front and center, just as the lights began to dim. A smattering of applause rose from the crowd below.

"It's packed in here," JC said, leaning over the arm of his chair toward me.

"This show sells out every New Year's Eve. They always get someone cool to play. Tickets can be hard to get. There are only a few thousand seats."

"And was Charles supposed to be at this show?"

"Mmmhmm.  Claire wanted to throw that party, though. Happened to be on the same night. I couldn't refuse them, once he told me who was playing."

JC grinned, nodding his head. "Well lucky me, huh? Charles is an okay guy. Nice of him."

"I seem to know a lot of nice guys. One very nice guy in particular."

"Yeah? Who's that?"

I leaned over and kissed him, very softly. "Take a guess."

He smiled and leaned in again for another kiss, except this time his lips lingered on mine, warm and soft but firm. He pulled back just as the curtain rose on the stage below. "Love you," he said to me. I couldn't hear him say it, but it didn't matter. I felt it.

The concert was a blissful, perfect ending to the day. Since we were up in the mezzanine, we could sit back and relax and enjoy the music, instead of trying to see around the person in front of us.  JC discovered that the arm between our seats would swivel up and out of the way, so I scooted in, closer to him. He dropped his arm around me and pulled me even closer, so close I could feel his heartbeat slamming through his chest. His excitement was so touching-at that moment I was just happy to see him so relaxed and carefree.

Watching JC was almost better than the show itself. Both artists did a short version of their solo acts, and then took the stage together. When Stevie began the opening strains to Brand New Day on the harmonica, JC stood, pulling me up and put me in front of him. He squeezed me back toward him, wrapped his arms around my waist and balanced his chin on my shoulder.

"Listen to what he's saying," he said, and then sang the words to me, his voice vibrating from his chest, through my back and invading my entire body. "How many of you people out there been hurt in some kind of love affair?   And how many times did you swear that you'd never love again? How many lonely, sleepless nights? How many lies, how many fights? You hearing this? It's like he's telling us that we're not alone."

I swallowed a lump in my throat and blinked back tears, listening to him sing, feeling him sing to me and meaning every word. By the time the song was over, I had stopped fighting the tears. I barely felt them, letting them slide down my cheek and drip from my chin.

I was surrounded by JC-he was at my back, his arms were around me, he was in my ear, on my mind, in my heart. He was telling me something. He wanted me to hear his message. I heard him.

Just before midnight, both artists and their bands gave an encore and a final bow before the curtain fell. We had just a few minutes to get our coats and rush outside to watch the fireworks show, set off from the roof of the theater. I shivered in the bitter cold air under JC's arm as the crowd began the ten second countdown.

10... 9... 8... JC pulled me closer and held me tightly against him while the chants grew in fervor around us.

7...6...5... I stared up at him, a mix of emotions flowing through me- pride and joy and hope and love. So much love, more than I ever thought I'd have in a lifetime, let alone a year. JC stared down at me like he could read my mind. And maybe he could. If he knew me as well as he thought he did, he knew exactly what I was thinking and feeling. I was almost sure he felt the same.

4...3...2... JC bent toward me, head tilted, mouth open. I rose up onto my toes and at the stroke of midnight my lips were pressed against his.

While everyone around us clapped and hugged, kissed and celebrated, JC and I were at the epicenter, enjoying the first kiss of the New Year. It was long and unhurried, sweet and deep and emotional. People rushed around us, bumping into us. Fireworks exploded above us. My world, though, was him. His fingers curled up into my hair, his lips pressed against mine, his tongue stroking and teasing mine, his moans and sighs curling up from the depths of his soul and seeping into me.

Perfect was the only word that came to mind to define that moment, and even perfect was not perfect enough.

JC inhaled a deep, satisfying breath while staring up at the sky, still bursting with color from the fireworks. "Last year was pretty damn good. One of the best of my life." He turned to me again, pulling me close to him, his arms around me. "This year, we blow the doors off this thing. Best year, yet. Think we can make that happen?"

I smiled up at him, wildly happy in the first moments of the New Year with him. "We totally can make that happen."

His eye caught the silhouette of our driver standing outside the limo in the shadows, watching and waiting. "That guy probably has a family he wants to spend time with tonight. Let's go back, so he can go home."

Arm in arm, we picked our way through the parking lot and back to the limo. In a few minutes we were snuggled together with the heater blowing on my frozen bare toes. Strappy heels were great in LA. Not in Denver. In December.

JC rubbed my arm through the fabric of my coat, trying to warm me up. "Today was great, sweet girl. Really great. You did a great job."

I beamed, my eyes on the view outside the window. Denver was a glow in sparkles and neon bursts. "I'm pretty proud of myself."

"You should be. The day started good. Got better. Then got really great."

"Hmmm..." I mused, turning my head in time to catch a kiss from him. "I wonder how it'll end."

He laughed, a dirty little chuckle bubbling up from his chest and leaned into me, nuzzling my neck from my ear to the lapel of my coat. "It will end a lot like it started. But better. And possibly louder." 

Our driver pulled up to the sliding doors of the hotel..  As we stepped out, he came around the front of the car and handed me a large, heavy gift bag, closed at the top and bearing a brightly colored bow. "From Mr. Goodreau. He says to say, Happy New Year and enjoy."

I took the bag, my jaw slack with surprise, following JC as he shuffled through the automatic doors. I tried to peek inside as we made our way through the lobby and into the elevator.

"What's in there?"

"I don't know," I mumbled. "I'm about to open it. It's heavy."

"Wait until we get to the room," he said, taking the bag from me, and then pushing my shoulder. "Get out of the elevator, dork. This is our floor."

"I'm not a dork," I argued, but stepped out and headed down the hallway to our room, along the way digging our room key out of my clutch. I slid the card into the reader and the lock popped open with a beep.

I expected the room to be dark and cold, but it was lit very faintly by a single light in the corner and a familiar, faint scent lingered in the air. I passed the bathroom, slipping off my coat and hanging it in the closet. JC lagged behind me, closing the door quietly behind us. I stopped as soon as I saw it.

The curtains were open wide, showing off our view, all twinkling and flashing lights, remnants of New Years Eve still bursting in air in the distance. On the table in front of the window was a glass vase stuffed full of lilies-pink, and in full bloom. Next to the vase was a silver tray and in the center of the tray sat a small white box, two fluted champagne glasses and a bottle of sparkling wine.

JC lingered in the shadows, leaning a shoulder against the wall while I took everything in. I turned around, just barely able to see him through the tears building and threatening to spill.

"Dammit, I am tired of crying in front of you!"  I sputtered, swiping a palm across my cheek, laughing and crying at the same time. JC chuckled, reaching into the pocket inside his jacket. He pulled out and unfolded a handkerchief. I reached out to grab it, but he wouldn't give it to me. Instead, he dabbed at my face and my eyes until the wet streaks were gone.

"There," he said, tucking it away and then unbuttoning his jacket, slipping it off of his shoulders and down his arm. The jacket landed on the edge of the bed, where he tossed it. "No more crying. You hate your crying face."

I nodded, sniffling. "I want to still be beautiful."

"You're still beautiful." He nodded toward the table and the set-up. "I did okay?"

I glanced at the display over my shoulder and smiled at him. "You did great. This must have been what took you so long to come downstairs. I...I was so determined to make tonight awesome that I didn't even... I mean...this is..."

JC's arms slowly made their way around my waist. My words, whatever I had meant to say, were lost in the moments before his lips landed on mine, before his mouth opened and he sighed and stepped closer to me and pulled me tighter up against him through a hypnotic, heady kiss. Goosebumps popped up and spread like a wave over every inch of skin, sending a shudder down my back and curling my toes.

The kiss ended slowly, lingering for a minute or more before he pulled back and smiled down at me, stroking my cheek with the pad of his thumb.

"You want to see what's inside the box?"

I nodded. "And the bag." JC laughed and bent to pick up the bag that he'd dropped at his feet.

"You check that, and I'll open this." He sat down on the edge of the bed and began to pull at the top of the bag, which had been taped closed. I went to the table and reached for the small white box on the tray, pulling open the flaps.

Inside, nestled between folds of white tissue paper, were 4 chocolate covered strawberries. Two solids, two marbled with streaks of white chocolate. "Ohhh, honey. These look so yummy."

"I thought you'd like those." Finally, the bag came open and JC pulled out a giant bottle of Moet champagne. "Wow," he said, hefting the bottle with one hand. "Charles must think we really drink a lot."

I giggled to myself, imagining Charles at a liquor store, picking out the largest bottle he could find. "Maybe it's like you say how you can tell how I feel about you by how I do certain things? Nothing says I love you like a big ass bottle of champagne." 

Gingerly, I picked each strawberry from the box and set it a saucer, then handed the bottle of wine to JC. "Trade ya. We'll save the good stuff for later. Take it home. Okay?"

He took the bottle from me, removing the foil paper and unscrewing the cap. I put Charles' gift on the table next to the flowers, picked up the two champagne glasses by their stems and the small saucer of strawberries.

JC kicked off his shoes and scooted back on the bed with the bottle until he was sitting up against the headboard. He patted the bed next to him, and after kicking off my shoes, I joined him, curling my legs up underneath me and holding the glasses so JC could fill them. The saucer sat between us and I held the glasses while JC poured, then set the bottle on the side table next to the bed.

"So this is what, our third toast of the night?"

"This was your idea," I answered, laughing.

"You're right. I guess I didn't want to be outdone. So, uhm..." He hesitated for a brief moment and then shifted so he was facing me. "Just...thanks. For the last year. For trusting me and wanting to be with me and for letting me help you. And for helping me. I love you. Very much."

"Aw..." I swooned, unable to help the silly grin I was wearing. "I love you, too. So much. You got me through some tough times and helped me make sense of some ridiculous stuff.  You'll never know how much I appreciate that. I owe you, big time."

"You sure do," he said, tapping his glass against mine, smiling and then tossing his head back and gulping the entire glass in one swallow. He shook his head as it went down. "Whoa. That's some cheap wine, right there. We could get really messed up on that."

"We better slow down, then. I took you out. I'm expecting some action, tonight."

"We could have drunk sex, finally."

I sputtered and choked, trying to laugh with a full mouth. "No drunk sex. How about some music or something?"

I indulged in a long look at JC's lean form, still in his slacks and shirt as he stretched across the bed to the small clock radio. He adjusted the sound of the sweet jazz saxophone and then sat up again. "Mmmm... that's nice. Have a strawberry, babe." 

He opened his mouth wide, so I popped the entire chocolate covered berry inside. He groaned, his eyes sinking closed while he chewed. "So good," he said, his mouth full. "Really good. Here..."

He picked up a berry and offered it to me. I bit it in half, instantly in love with the rich milk chocolate flavor mixed with the sweet fruit.  JC tossed the second half into his mouth, to my surprise.

"Hey! That was mine!"

"Come and get it," he said, rubbing his belly and picking up the third strawberry. "Here, I'm sorry. You can have this whole one."  We shared the last two and JC poured himself a second glass of wine. The music wafted around us and between us, creating a mood I wouldn't even dare to try to replicate. It was perfection.

"What was your favorite part of today?"

"Hmmm..." He mused, pondering quietly, staring at the bubbles rising from the bottom of his glass to the surface. "Well, I mean... I did like the part where I didn't pay for anything, all day..."

"Aside from the part where I indulged your extremely cheap tendencies."

"Uhm...well... The whole night, actually." My eyes started to roll at his copout, but he stopped me with a gentle pat to my thigh. "No, listen. I mean, I get off the elevator, and this beautiful woman is waiting to see me, to spend time with me and only me. That made me feel good. Then she treated me special, like I matter to her. I didn't have to arrange anything. I didn't have anything to think about. I showed up and ate a lot and had some beers. I saw a show I've wanted to see for over a year, at least. My favorite part was you knowing what I needed and wanted, and giving that to me. It's weird, because I'm really proud of you."

"That I pulled it off?"

"Yeah," he said, nodding. "Really, I would have been happy with two quarter pounders and a blowjob, but you wanted more than that for me. I'm happy you pulled it off. You seem happy about it. I like seeing you that way." 

I stretched around JC to set my glass and the now empty saucer on the side table, then took JC's glass and set it next to mine. JC followed my lead, laying next to me on his back, his hands tucked under his head. He was smiling, very slightly, gazing up at the ceiling. He still looked so rested and relaxed.

"I liked the whole day," I said quietly. "I'm proud of myself, but right here, right now is my favorite part of today." JC rolled his head toward me, but didn't say anything. He didn't have to. "I love these moments with you, JC. I like these times when I... when I don't feel scared about what comes after tomorrow, when everything that's extra in your life falls away. You're not a celebrity and I'm not a lucky fan. You're a man who's in love with a woman. And that woman is me."

I shifted, moving closer to him. I untied his tie, and then unbuttoned his shirt, pulling it from where it had been tucked into his slacks. And then unzipped his slacks and helped him pull everything off and toss it over the side of the bed.

"I was never messy, before I met you," he said, leaning over me as I laid back.

"Passion, baby," I said, my arms sliding around him. My lips found his while he fumbled with my dress, unzipped it and pulled it down. Off went my panties as he rolled them down my hips. His boxers followed, and in minutes, he and I were naked, skin against skin, ending the day exactly as we started it.

JC moaned, long and deep, which was obviously for my benefit. I laughed in the middle of a kiss. "See," he said, chuckling with me. "That's why I don't make noise."

He moved in close for another kiss and captured my bottom lip in his teeth. Angling his head, he opened his mouth and welcomed my tongue to dance with his, swirling in sensuous rhythm. He drew in a ragged breath and let out a guttural moan. I shuddered and gripped his forearms, pulling him on top of me.

"Yesssss..." I hissed and moaned as I felt his weight sink onto me. My legs flew into the air and wrapped themselves around him. Closer. I needed to be closer.

JC kissed his way down my neck and shoulder. "Tell me you love me, sweet girl."

I wanted to cry, he sounded so sincere, like he needed to hear it badly. "I love you," I choked out. "I love you so much." 

He shuddered and ground himself into me. He seemed relieved, elated to hear the words. "I like how it sounds. I love how it feels. I love you, more than you know. More than you'll ever know."

Before I was even fully aware of it, he was inside me, every thrust pushing me closer to the edge.  My cries of pleasure mixed with his moans, both climbing to a powerful pinnacle that shook my body with explosion after explosion. JC seized, his head rocking back, a long, raw, gut level groan seeping from him. I rocked my hips up against him while he thrust with an almost uncontrollable intensity until he collapsed, landing on top of me.

Out of breath, hoarse, a little drunk and a lot spent, we laid tangled together, enjoying a kiss or two until any amount of energy could allow us to move. My eyes closed for a few minutes but my heart was still thumping and my skin was still tingling. As tired as I was, there was no way I could fall asleep.

When I opened my eyes, I met JC's stare. He didn't look away, or pretend he hadn't been watching me. He simply smiled that small, shy smile that made my stomach lurch. I reached across the space between us to stroke his cheek. Stubble was growing back. His eyes were red, almost bloodshot, and the dark circles that usually lived underneath them were coming back. It had been a long day and JC was exhausted.

He cleared his throat and sat up. "Gonna get some water or we'll both feel like shit in the morning."

He picked two water bottles from the small refrigerator. I sat up when he came back and took the cold bottle he offered me, uncapped it and sucked down half of it. I handed him the other half and then pulled back the covers on the bed, inviting him to climb inside after me. When he was settled, I crawled over him to snap off the lamp on his side of the bed and turn off the radio.

The room was dark and cool, finally. JC's breaths were so long and deep that I thought he was asleep. I was on my way, my back to him, his arms around me. I felt him swallow, and then he spoke into the quiet.

"My family is happy I'm in therapy."

"Yeah?" I said, lifting my head a little. "You told them, then?"

"Yeah. I have an appointment, the day after tomorrow. That's what made me think of it."

I moved, scooting back against him. His arms drew me closer to him, holding onto me tightly. "My family thinks I need to go back to therapy."

He swallowed, again. His heart raced against my back and then slowed down again. "What do you think you need to do?"

I sighed, remembering how relieved and yet upset I was that JC didn't bring up marriage again. And then how close to him I felt that night, yet how afraid I was to dare to imagine that it could always be that way, for us. The difference between what I felt and what I could believe I would always feel was astounding. And confusing. And heartbreaking.

"I think they're right," I admitted, slightly relieved at finally saying it. "I'll face some things I'm afraid of, if I do. My biggest fear, ever-losing everything important to me-will happen if I don't."

"Sounds like you know what to do," he mumbled, his voice fuzzy with sleep. He yawned, then nuzzling his chin between my neck and shoulder.

"Yep," I whispered. "Starting on a brand new day."