I could only whimper in response, reaching over to the table and grabbing one of the condoms he’d stacked there, shoving it in his face, hands shaking. He took it, ripped the package open and rolled the condom on and, wasting no time, laid down, wrapped my legs around him and slid into me.

He was just barely controlled from the start, rocking my entire body with the force of each push, the sound of skin slapping sweaty skin mixing with joint sounds of enjoyment. We were both a little louder than we’d been the night before-- his moans were loud in my ear, his breath hot and fast on my neck. I was not normally a loud person during sex, but at the moment I wasn’t at all concerned with who could hear me.

I wanted nothing more than to fall over the edge of a spine tingling, toe curling climax. I got my wish a second later when every cell in my body exploded. I felt myself clench and contract and pulse, unable to control the high pitched squeal that came from deep inside of me. Not long after, a loud groan escaped him; he stiffened, sucked in a breath, and then shuddered in release. He continued stroking until he had no more to give, and then he collapsed, out of breath, a sheen of sweat coating him.

My arms found their way around his neck, again, and I kissed his lips, again chapped and cherry red. He smiled, his eyes closed. “I’ve never heard that sound before. That was sexy.”

I didn’t even have the brain power to be embarrassed. I just laughed at his comment, adding, “I don’t think I’ve ever made that sound before. You made history.” I felt him smile against my skin, the muscles in his stomach ripple as he chuckled.

“JC.”

“Hm. You have to get up?” He started to move, but I held him down.

“No. Stay here. I mean… stay here. Do you have to go, tonight?” One eye opened, looking around. “Or not. Never mind. I know it would be embarrassing for you to be seen leaving here.”

Why did I even ask? Did I actually manage to forget who he was?

“I’ll stay, if you want me to, Serena,” he said, quietly.

I looked at him, eyes closed, mouth open, nearly asleep on top of me. “Are you sure? I mean, do you want to?”

He swallowed and blew a breath out of his nose. “Stop asking questions. You just asked me to stay. I’ll stay. I have to leave at eight. Okay?” He rolled off of me, laying on his back, rubbing his eyes.

“Eight is fine. I’ll be up by then. You know what I want?”

He stretched. I watched his body elongate with his movement, muscles rippling, skin pulling. He was beautiful. “I need about a half hour, sweetie.”

“Not that,” I said, swatting at him. “Cannoli!” I hopped out of bed and retrieved the box from the refrigerator. He pulled the covers up on the bed and sat on top of them. “So we don’t get crumbs in the bed. Can you buy me a Pepsi from in there?”

“First I buy you dinner, now drinks? Chasez, what happened to the gentleman in you?” I handed him the ice cold can, plucking a can for myself and set the box of treats between us. I turned off the radio and turned on the TV. “I wonder if we can get through another movie.”

“Probably not,” he said, winking at me, taking a bite of the Italian pastry. “Oh my God, that is good.” He offered me a bite, and though I could just pick up my own and eat it, I thought it was sweet that he offered it and took a bite.

“Yum,” I said, around pastry and filling. “Ooh, it’s cold. I haven’t had Cannoli in forever.”

“That makes up for the crackers I ate. Now get your own Cannoli.” He popped the rest of it into his mouth and took a swig of Pepsi.

Together we finished the box of six pastries and crawled back under the covers. I liked knowing he wasn’t leaving, so I could sleep without the fear of waking up to find him gone. I wanted those arms around me as I drifted off to sleep. I wanted to wake up with that chest against my back and what I suspected would be a poke against me in the morning. I had every intention of starting the morning off right.

###

My suspicion was correct. The morning got off to a wonderful start somewhere around six thirty and he was almost late getting out of the door at eight. His first appointment wasn’t until later but he had to get home and shower and change, and with morning traffic, if he didn’t leave by eight, there was no point in leaving.

My meeting was at 10am, but just around the corner. I could easily walk there and back, so I lingered in the shower and dressed, perfected my hair and makeup, and packed my presentation and laptop and still had time to spare when I walked into the building for my meeting.

Inside, I was immediately engulfed in corporate elegance. The floors gleamed, the windows were pristine. Green, leafy plants were tastefully arranged around the expansive lobby. The coffee service was percolating and the smell of freshly ground beans hung in the air.

“Can I help you, ma’am?” An attractive young woman with flame-red hair, pale skin and green eyes smiled in my direction.

“Yes, you can. I have a 10am appointment with Jack Hughes. My name is Serena Willis.”

“I’ll let Jack know you’ve arrived, Ms Willis. Take a seat in our visitor lounge, and help yourself to a cup of coffee.”

Thanking her, I stepped over to the plush cream colored sofa and chair set and perched on the edge of one. I pulled out my compact and checked my makeup and hair one last time. I heard her quietly announce my arrival into her headset, nod and then disconnect.

“Someone will be right out in just a moment. Make yourself comfortable.”

“Thank you,” I said as I felt my phone buzz. I picked it up out of my bag to turn it off. JC had sent a text message: ‘have a great meeting. Call me later. Lunch?’  I smiled at his cryptic message and typed back: ‘waiting in the lobby. Lunch, yes. Call u later, turning phone off.’ I pressed send and then turned the phone off, dropping it back into my bag.

A few minutes later a door swung open and a tall thin dark haired woman stepped into the lobby. The receptionist smiled at me and said, “Tanya will take you to Jack’s office. You can follow her. Thanks, Tanya.”

I stood and followed Tanya down the hall to a bank of elevators. We stood in silence as we waited for the elevator to arrive, then open and we stepped inside. She pressed 4 and offered a weak smile as we climbed. The arrival bell chimed and the doors opened. She held it open and said, “Just hang a right, Jack’s office is right there. Name’s on the door.”

“Thank you,” I called, as the doors closed behind me. ‘Pleasant gal,’ I mused as I walked toward the door marked ‘Jack Hughes’. I knocked on the door and a voice invited me in.

“I am a Rock star,” I told myself, walking out of the building. I nearly broke my arm patting myself on the back as I bounced back to hotel. The meeting went great, they seemed to love the product and the direction that we wanted to take it, and seemed interested in a venture. I was still expecting a final decision to take a few weeks, and in the end we still might not get the project, but it wouldn’t be because of my pitch. I also knew we would have at least one more meeting before a final decision was made—that meant another trip to LA!

I called JC as soon as I made it to my room, but got his voicemail. I left him a message that the meeting went great, and we would talk when he was free. I really hadn’t slept much the night before, so I peeled off my suit, kicked off my shoes, and crawled into the freshly made bed for a well deserved nap.

I awoke to the sound of the phone buzzing against the side table. I squinted, checking the display. Work. Shit.  

Groggy, I sat up. “Hey Gary, sorry I forgot to call you guys.”

“Just checking to see how the meeting went,” said my boss, his voice tinged with concern. “I figured if it was bad you’d be stressed out and calling so it must have gone well.”

I gave him the play-by-play, their reaction, and my guesstimate that we were front runners if not the lead. He was pleased with the results and rooting for us to be chosen. “I’m sure you haven’t slept well all weekend, worrying about today, so get some rest, get out of that room, have some fun. And I don’t want to see you tomorrow. See you Wednesday. Good job, kid.” With that, the line went dead. Oh, if he only knew.

I gave up on more sleep and rolled out of bed, wondering what to do with my afternoon. The first thing I was doing was logging into Delta and getting myself off of that early flight, since I didn’t have to go to work the following day. Yes, I felt guilty for letting my boss think I’d been slaving away all weekend when I hadn’t looked at the pitch between Friday and Sunday—but I’d given up a lot of personal time to put it together, and flew to California even though my fear of flying was a well known fact. So, if I took an extra few hours, I wasn’t going to turn myself in over it. I was in for more long days ahead. I took my breaks when I could get them.

I had another shower and changed into more comfortable clothing, jeans and a short sleeved t-shirt. I was starving but didn’t know if I should eat or not, because I hadn’t heard from JC. I decided to just go to the hotel restaurant and, of course, the phone rang. I rolled my eyes. ‘Great timing, Chasez. Now I have to nearly pass out again while you lollygag over to this part of town.’

Of course, I said no such thing when I picked up the line. A terse “Hey” did the trick.

“I know, I’m sorry. What are you doing?” At least he knew when he was in trouble, and when to apologize.

“Starving to death. I’m just gonna go down to the hotel restaurant and eat if you’re not, like, right outside my door right now.”

I heard an undercurrent of laughter in his voice. That irritated me. He had probably eaten. I hadn’t. “You’re so cranky. The day started so well. And you had a good meeting, even. Open your door.”

I breathed a sigh of relief and bounded across the room to open it. He was leaning against the door jamb, one ankle crossed over the other, a casual, sexy smile on his lips and blue eyes twinkling at me. He leaned in and dropped a kiss on my lips, and my anger melted away.

“You want to just eat here? Downstairs? We can do that, if you want.”

“I want,” I said, stepping out of the room and pulling the door closed behind me. “I’m so hungry. I’m sorry I was a bitch on the phone.”

“Eh,” he shrugged, waving it off. “I suppose I can let you make it up to me, later.”

“I knew this would benefit you, somehow. How was your day?” We stepped into the elevator, thankfully alone.

“It was good. I feel accomplished. I’m not done yet, though. That’s the bad news. But I have an idea. I’ll tell you over lunch.”

We were seated almost immediately and I tore into a package of crackers that sat in the basket on the table. He was amused by my ravenous hunger, shaking his head and talking away about… something. I wasn’t listening, I couldn’t hear over the roar of my stomach.

“Did you eat anything today?” he asked, mid-story. I shook my head no. He gave me a sympathetic look and reached across the table to squeeze a hand. “You probably have low blood sugar. You can’t go that long without eating. Decide what you’re having.” He pointed to the menu.

I glanced it over, but was frustrated when I couldn’t make a decision. “I’ll just have whatever’s on special. I’m too hungry to be picky. Finish your story.”

“I forgot what I was saying. What was I saying?”

“I don’t know, sweetheart, I wasn’t really listening.” I smiled sweetly and he pretended to glare at me as the waitress came to our table to take our orders. Two specials, two iced teas.  

I opened another package of crackers and offered him one. He declined, his eyes darting around the full restaurant. “So, you mentioned an idea. Because your day’s not over. What?”

“Oh. Uhm. Well. This is a terrible idea,” he started, and laughed. “What time is your flight tomorrow?”

“Uhm, 1:30. I changed it. My boss said I don’t have to be in tomorrow. Why?”

“Good. That works even better. So.” He cleared his throat, and swallowed. “What do you say… we check you out? You can stay at my house tonight. I can take you to the airport tomorrow.”

His eyes, he look on his face, said ‘please say yes’. I stared at him, chewing the last of the crackers in the package. Was he serious? I waited for the punch line but there was none. ‘What the hell?’ I thought. “Live a little’.

I nodded, agreeing to this harebrained scheme. There was no way he was a serial killer and I had already slept with him, so forget any fear of him forcing himself on me. I could only hope something of a romantic nature would happen on my last night in town.  “Yeah, let’s do that. Then I don’t have to wait for you to show up for dinner.”

He seemed relieved that I’d said yes. As if there was any danger that I’d say no. Of course I wanted to go stay at his house that night. Wasn’t I a fan?  “Whatever, missy. So the meeting went really well, then?”

I gave him the same update I had given to my boss. He seemed to understand the impact that a ‘yes’ would have on me, on my job, and on the company. On top of it all, we could see each other again, and often. We both wanted that.

Lunch went quickly, as the restaurant was packed. Whenever I was in a full restaurant, I felt the urge to eat as quickly as possible and vacate so someone else could sit, even though I’d likely waited a considerable amount of time for my own seat. I was feeling the pressure of people standing in line, waiting to sit. I also knew the longer JC sat there, the more there was a chance someone would recognize him. Neither of us really wanted that.

The drive to the West Hollywood area didn’t seem to take as long as I thought it would. I wondered, then, why it took him so long to get to me, until I realized that, like Atlanta, traffic jammed one way, and then the other. Since we were driving against traffic at that time of day, it wouldn’t take as long to get to his house as it would take him to come back—another reason why he wanted me to check out and come stay with him.

I was getting nervous, really nervous, for some reason about going to his house. His car, his favorite eating spots was one thing. His home was completely his domain and his comfort zone. I almost had second thoughts about the decision, except that I had already checked out of my room. I panicked, chewing on my thumbnail, noting the landmarks that sped by.

“Serena, are you alright?”

Stopped at a red light, he looked over at me, thumbnail in my mouth, stressed. I hid a shy smile. He offered a grin and reached across the seat and rubbed my arm. “Don’t worry about it. You’ll be okay. There’s no one there. A couple of people are coming over tonight, it’s no big deal, and they won’t stay late.  And you can kick my ass at Mario Kart. Okay?”

“That, I can handle,” I said, feeling more at ease.

Minutes later he pulled in front of a massive white stone house, the wide garage door sliding open slowly. He pulled into the empty spot and the door slid closed behind us. “We are here, Miss Willis. Make yourself at home,” he said, climbing out and picking up my suitcase from the backseat. I had my shoulder bag and my purse and followed him into the house and up the stairs to a plush, comfortable, well-decorated room.

“Sitting room right here. Nice for reading the paper and stuff in the morning.” He pointed in various directions. “You’ll figure it out but kitchen, dining room, living room, den is over that way, bedrooms are… everywhere. My office and studio are downstairs. I’ll show you that later. So, let’s go upstairs.”

We trudged up three flights of stairs to the Master bedroom. “I would hate to move into this place. Three flights of stairs, you’re kidding me.”

“That’s what movers are for, honey. I mean, not that it’s menial labor or anything. They’re just used to it. Here we are,” he said, swinging the door open and letting me walk in ahead of him.

At first glance, I was in love. The room was gigantic. It took up nearly the entirety of the third floor. Everything was huge… the bed was King size, the flat screen television mounted on the wall was the biggest I had ever seen, the armoire that stood in one corner was twice the size of mine, as were the dressers and the two nightstands. Off to the side was a sliding glass door. Through the sheer curtains I could see he had a great view of the Hollywood Hills off of the spacious patio.

He set my suitcase down near the bed and watched me as I took in the space. “Impressed?”

“Very. This room is lovely.”

“Wait until you see the bathroom,” he said, pointing to a door and pushing it open. I peeked in and nearly fainted. His bathroom was easily two to three times the size of my master bath, which I thought was pretty spacious. Double sinks, gleaming pewter fixtures, tile floor—I could get used to living like that, for sure.

“So, here’s the deal,” he said, sitting on the corner of the bed. “I’ve got someone coming over for a few hours this afternoon to work. So, you can do whatever you want here, or I can drop you somewhere and pick you back up. Your choice, it doesn’t matter to me.”

“I’ll just stay here. I have some work I can do, if I can borrow a wireless connection.”

“No problem. I have a little while, though, before my appointment shows up.” He wiggled his eyebrows and wrapped an arm around me, dragging me toward him on the bed. “Let’s test the bed out, shall we?”

I climbed up on the massive bed, noting the firm mattress. Suddenly I remembered something. The condoms. “Shit. You know what I left in the room?”

His mouth formed a small ‘O’ and then he laughed. “I have some here. But now you have to tell Melissa why you don’t have any condoms.”

“Can I tell her I had sex with seven people?”  

“Or just one person, seven times. Should we go for it?”

“You are crazy. Maybe if I was staying another few days.”

He laid a hand on mine, rubbed the skin there with his thumb. “I wish you were. I really don’t want you to go home tomorrow.”

I patted his cheek, softly. He still hadn’t shaved. I didn’t care. “I know. This has been fun. It’s totally different than I expected my weekend to go. And I met someone really wonderful and had a great time. I’m still having a great time.”

“Me too. I’m glad I was an idiot and asked you out on Friday. I should act dumb more often.”

“Let’s call it ‘taking chances’.”

“Taking chances it is.”  He leaned over, taking possession of my mouth, his hands in my hair. A chime rang through the house. His shoulders sagged and he ripped his mouth from mine. “Fuck. Who shows up early? That’s my appointment. Let me get him comfortable and then I’ll come back and get you set up.”

Minutes later I was connected to his high speed wireless system, and I logged into email. I prepared a written report about the meeting that I would need to edit and send to the department heads on Wednesday, worked my way through 72 new emails and did some work on our other, smaller accounts. By the time JC came back upstairs, I was pretty well caught up and felt good about taking the extra hours off, as my boss suggested.

“Hello, pretty girl on my bed,” he purred, climbing on to the bed and laying down next to me. He laid on his side, propped up on one elbow, watching my fingers fly across the keyboard.

“I’m just about done,” I said, mouthing words as I typed. I finished the last few sentences, hit ‘send’, and logged off, setting the laptop on the end table next to me. “You helped me get caught up, thank you.”

“Happy I could help,” he said, scooting closer, laying his head in my lap. “So, we’re cooking out on the grill tonight and I need to go turn it on and warm it up. Want to come down?”

A small group of people milled around the patio and the pool, with red Silo cups full of punch—some spiked—and paper plates piled with chicken sandwiches or burgers. Tubs of store-bought salads, sandwich fixings, drinks and a cookie sheet stacked with plump chocolate chip cookies sat on a table just outside the door leading from the house. Soft music thumped out of the speakers, a mix I didn’t recognize but tapped my foot to the beat anyway. It was catchy, had a nice melody.

I was being shy, and hiding. Well, not really hiding, just sitting alone at one of the tables that sat around the pool. Most of the group was gathered together at the tables near the grill, laughing and talking, telling jokes and stories. I felt out of place, watching him in the midst of them, talking, tossing his head back in laughter, sipping a bottle of beer. I didn’t know them, of course, and none of them were celebrities (that I knew of anyway), but I just felt like I was invading his space, crossing a line in his life. Besides, it was nice and calm at the other end of the pool, and I was enjoying the warmth of the late evening sun, soaking in as much as I could before heading back to Atlanta, which was cooling rapidly.

I recognized Marcus, the man that had hit on me Friday night, as soon as he stepped out of the house. He waved to various people, poured himself some punch, and started to sit with the group when he noticed me sitting alone and sauntered over. I rolled my eyes—I wasn’t really in the mood to fight him off. I steeled myself as he came closer, a friendly smile on his face, actually far from the ‘mack daddy’ look he was giving me before.

“Hello. Serena, right?” He said, stopping at the table. I nodded. He extended a hand, and I shook it.

“You have quite the grip, there,” he said, releasing my hand. “Uhm. I just wanted to apologize for Friday night. I didn’t know you were with my man JC. I just saw you and… most of the girls at those parties go to all the parties. It was nice to see someone new. I overstepped my bounds and I was rude. I just wanted to say sorry.”

I relaxed a little, after his speech. A little. “I appreciate that, Marcus. I do. Apology accepted.”

He smiled a big, handsome smile full of straight white teeth. “Mind if I sit?” I shrugged. “So how long have you known JC?” He sipped his punch, but his eyes did not move from my face.

“Not long,” I offered. It wasn’t any of his business. “And you?”

“A few years, now. Nice guy. Real laid back. This kind of thing?” He waved his arm around, to indicate the little gathering of people. “Happens a lot. No big raging parties or anything, just people getting together. He likes that. That and… fucking art projects.”

I raised an eyebrow. I knew he was artsy but no one really talked about the extent of it. “Art projects?”

He rolled his light brown eyes, slouching in his chair, balancing his cup on his knee. “Paintings. Crafts. He likes to build stuff, make stuff. His mind is always going. He needs an outlet. My mom wants to teach him how to knit, so bad. I’m like ... fuck., gimme a beer. You can keep that hot glue gun to yourself.”

The thought of JC wielding a hot glue gun and some rhinestones, bedazzling the hell out of something had me laughing hysterically.

“I sensed people making fun of me,” I heard from behind me, then felt hands on my shoulders and lips on my cheek.

“Marcus was. I wasn’t.” I tried to regain my compusure but the mental image was more than I could take. JC simply nodded, as if he was used to a little good-natured teasing. 

“Sure. Sure. How you doin’ man?” Marcus stood to give JC one of those manly handshake-to-hug gestures.

“I wasn’t moving on your girl. I just came over to apologize for my behavior Friday night. I was a bad boy.” He winked at me. I declined to wink back, but gave him a small smile. “I’m heading out. I just stopped by to say hello.”

“Come by again, sometime,” JC called after him as he slowly made his way past the thinning group of people, and back through the house.  “Was he bugging you?” he asked quietly, dropping into a seat next to me, his arm across the back of my chair.

“No. He really did come to apologize. He just creeped me out on Friday, so I wasn’t all that friendly.”

“He’s kind of a player. Unfortunately a lot of girls fall for his moves. I’d rather have no moves than bad ones.”

I leaned over to him, close to his face and whispered, “Your moves are pretty good.” He growled, under his breath, and muttered, “When these people leave, I’ll show you some moves.”

“You better,” I responded, and sat back, smoldering. He made me feel so sexy. Sexier than anyone I’d ever been with had made me feel. I mentally willed everyone to get very tired and start walking out. I wanted him, and I wanted to take my time.

He dipped his head to me, a playful expression on his face. “In the meantime, I think you issued some kind of challenge to me, and I’ll be damned if I let a challenge go unanswered. Mario Kart. Now.”

“Oh, you’re ready for your ass kicking? Lead the way, Chasez.”

Perhaps he did not believe me, that I was really, really good at Mario Kart. He figured it out, though, when I beat him, four games in a row. “You don’t understand, Chasez,” I said moving the controller around. “This is the only game I can play! Of course I play it well!”

He was laughing so hard he couldn’t control his character and he was losing, badly. “Okay, so I need to practice, obviously. I think losing four games in a row proves that.”

“Well, when I get home, I’ll offer you plenty of practice.” The game over, I set the controller down next to his. “That was fun. I actually haven’t played in awhile.”

“Oh, stop showing off. You’re like the pool player who pretends to play really bad and then beats the pants off everyone.”

“Well, I’m pretty good at pool, too. My dad is a Billiards Champ. I’m a chip off the old block.”

“You’re a chip alright.”

“Stop whining. You got beat by a girl. Get used to it.”

“I don’t mind that,” he said, his expression changing from playful to seductive in a second. “I don’t mind that at all.” He glanced around, noting a few people still hanging out, talking and drinking. “What’s a guy gotta do to get rid of a house full of people?”

I was starting to wind down, anyway, and thought a few minutes alone might do me some good. I let him know I was going to go upstairs and he nodded, saying he would join me, soon. Upstairs, I spread out on the bed and picked up one of four remotes, trying to figure out the TV and surround sound system. I watched half of a movie before he walked in, whistling. I flipped the movie off when he came in.

“All clear?”

“All clear. I didn’t mean to interrupt your movie. I’ll just grab a shower.”

He disappeared into the bathroom and I turned the movie back on. I lost interest and turned it back off, undressed and climbed in under the covers. The sheets were some obscenely high thread count and were so silky and smooth. I laid there, waiting, listening to him take a shower, and the water turn off, an electric toothbrush, then gargle, then something noiseless.

JC came out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel. The scent of soap and toothpaste and steam wafted out behind him. He smelled… intoxicating. That’s the only word I could think of that made sense. Just delicious. 

He opened a drawer and took out a pair of boxers. “May as well leave them off. They’ll end up on the floor anyway,” I said, smiling and leaning on one elbow.

He grinned and tossed them back in the drawer, unwrapped the towel and tossed it back in the bathroom, and dove into the bed. We gravitated toward the middle and became a mass of arms and legs. The bed in the hotel was a queen size, so we had a lot more space to work with. I planned on using it.

“I meant to tell you. You? Beating me at Mario Kart? Very sexy.” He bent his head and pressed his lips against mine, gently at first and then with more pressure, opening his mouth against mine and giving me the first of many long, slow, luxurious kisses of the night.

We spent hours together that night, exploring, whispering, touching, emotions ranging on every level from the height of passion and excitement to heart wrenching tenderness to actual tears shed. I could not think of a better way to spend my last night in Los Angeles. Whatever happened beyond that night, it would happen one day at a time, so that’s the only way I could take it, handle it.

When morning came, I groaned. I did not want to get back on an airplane. Not only to leave him behind, and to go back home to my life, my real life, not this fantasy I’d been living for four days—but I really didn’t want to get on the plane. The closer the time to go to the airport came, the more nervous I was.

“You want something, to relax you? You almost passed out, Friday. I think you need something.” He sat across the table from me, coffee in one hand morning paper in the other, my luggage standing near the stairs to the garage.

“I need something, like what? What if I freak out?”

“You’ll make it. I promise. Hang on.” He got up from the table and ran upstairs, taking two at a time. A few minutes later, he came down. “Here,” he said, handing me a pill inside a small plastic baggie. “It’ll help with your anxiety. Take it before you board. And here, this is for you.” From behind his back he pulled out a small teddy bear wearing a t-shirt that said ‘I Heart You’.

“I don’t want your fan throwaways,” I said, eyeing the bear.

“It’s not a fan throwaway. I donate all that stuff to kid’s hospitals. This one is mine. Serious. Here.” He shook it at me, and I took it. It was soft and smelled like him.

“Thank you,” I said softly. “I’ll hold him in my lap while I’m freaking out.”

The look of sympathy returned, and he bent to kiss me. He pulled back, slightly, and looked me in the eye. “You are going to be okay. We should go, traffic probably sucks.”

I tapped my foot nervously as he took the exit to the airport. He kept up the lighthearted banter to distract me but it didn’t work. We pulled into the terminal for my flight and he put the car in park, popped the trunk and I met him at the back. He retrieved my suitcase and set it on the side walk, where a porter came and grabbed it for check in. I crossed my arms and tried to look calm and casual, but my poor heart was pounding.

“Come here,” he said, unfolding my arms and holding my hands in his. “I had a great time with you. Best weekend ever. Here’s to terrible ideas, huh?” He grinned but was unable to get me to smile. “You’ll be fine. You will. You have your pill?” I nodded.

He reached out and took my face in his hands and I put my hands over his. “I would like to see you more. I plan to see you more. Is that okay?”

“Yes,” I whispered. I didn’t trust myself to say anymore.

“Good. I’ll miss you, but I’ll see you soon.” He leaned down and kissed me. I think time stood still--nothing else in the world existed or mattered but him, right then. He ended the kiss and wrapped me in a strong hug. I hugged him, tight, inhaled a deep breath of his scent- cologne and soap.

He pulled away and let go, smiled at me, turned around and walked around to the driver side of his car.  “Better get in there. I’m not leaving till you go in and I have to move my car.” I smiled and waved, blinking back tears, and turned around to walk into the airport. I missed him already.