12. Let Me Be Good to You

Tonight isn’t the first time I’m thankful I have an ear monitor in. The amount of screaming that’s reaching my ears is enough to make me sit down on the edge of the stage, put my head between my legs and cry. But then again I think I’d be doing that said motion not out of annoyance from legions of screaming girls and women, but from the fact that one woman in particular has fallen off the face of the planet.

I’m twenty-six today and while I should be happy that I’ve lived to see another year, I still feel shitty and I’m almost beside myself with anger and contempt. But I can’t let that show onstage at all. No, I have to make everyone believe that I’m having the best birthday of my life and it’s all because I’m standing on stage in front of fifteen thousand Canadians and I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else but here.

But there is one place I’d rather be, but it’s pretty impossible for me to get there right now.

So far today I’ve had to sit through six rousing choruses of ‘Happy Birthday’ and every single time I’ve had to smile through it and act as if it was the most amazing rendition of the song I’ve ever heard. I’ve been forced to eat three different birthday cakes and there’s a mountain of presents sitting in my dressing room with my name on it. The only thing is, I don’t want any of that. I don’t want presents, cake, or song. The one thing I want I can’t have right now and it’s enough to send me back two decades and make me throw a temper tantrum.

I sound like such a pussy right now, but honestly I don’t care. Today has been absolutely miserable and I want to skip out on my birthday party that Timbaland is throwing me and just lie under the covers and hope by some grace of God that Lauren hasn’t actually forgotten my birthday and is going to call me.

I think that’s what’s pissing me off most of all – the fact that she’s had all day to call me to wish me a happy birthday and yet I haven’t even received one text message. I’m not going to play the desperate card; I refuse to call her on my birthday. That idea is just ludicrous and I will abstain from doing anything of the sort.

Thankfully my talent and amazing stage presence has gotten me through another inspiring performance and I’m standing at the edge of the stage taking my bows while the crowd is trying to coordinate a last attempt at a unified ‘Happy Birthday.’

“You guys are pretty good,” I state with a laugh and I’m met with thousands of delighted screams. I fight the strong urge to roll my eyes. If only every woman was this easy to please.

A few more bows, screams, smiles, winks, and nods on my part, and suddenly I’m being escorted by security along the floor of the stadium. People are reaching out for me to touch them and normally I would oblige, but tonight I just don’t feel like it. I make a feeble attempt to touch one girl’s hand but right before our fingers touch, someone else knocks her hand out of the way. A flash of brown hair, a familiar smile and not only do my feet stop, but my heart does, too.

Lauren is standing in the GA crowd smiling at me with a huge grin on her face. I choke back on a wad of spit and Mike’s hands are on my shoulders, trying to keep me at a brisk pace to stop complete pandemonium from breaking out. Lauren waves a bit and it isn’t until someone jostles her in the crowd that I realize it’s just a girl who bears a striking resemblance to Lauren. Why the hell would she be here in the crowd? I need to get out of here before the entire stadium bears Lauren’s likeness.

Venue security allows us into the backstage area and I quickly grab a towel a stagehand is holding out for me and press it to my sweat soaked face. I want to go back to my hotel, take a shower, make an appearance at Tim’s party, and then go back to the hotel for some sleep.

In all actuality my main goal is to get back to my dressing room so I can check my phone. There’s a good chance Lauren called my phone to leave a message. No, I don’t sound obsessed at all.

Mike and the rest of my security leave me at the door to my dressing room and I walk inside quickly, hoping I can extract my phone from my bag with lightning quick speed. I don’t know what I’ll feel if I find that Lauren hasn’t called at all. I think I might just have to bit the bullet and call her.

I’m so entranced with the thought of getting my phone that I almost don’t recognize the completely foreign person perched on the armrest of the couch. It takes me a good minute before my eyes can focus on the figure of my best friend, his smile infectious.

“Trace?” I ask incredulously, “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“I wanted to wish you a happy birthday in person. Can’t a best friend do that?”

“Well yeah,” I say almost sheepishly as I surge forward and give Trace a big hug. It isn’t one of those macho I’ll-just-pat-you-on-the-back-so-I-don’t-look-like-sissy type of hugs. It’s the type of hug you give a brother or male family member after they’ve been away for months. I never realized how much I missed Trace until he’s standing right in front of me. I know if they didn’t need him so badly with the whole clothing line thing he’d be by my side throughout this entire tour. But criticisms of his whereabouts aside, I’m glad he’s here.

“So how has your day been going?”

“Shitty,” I say truthfully, “It isn’t the same without you or Lauren…” my voice fades away and I look at Trace furtively. I told Trace before I left to keep an eye on Lauren to make sure she was doing okay… maybe, just maybe, she managed to get off work and she’s here. Maybe she’s waiting to jump out from behind the bathroom door to scare the shit out of me or something. I’m pretty sure that would be the best birthday present anybody could ever get me. “Is she here?” I ask hurriedly. The sooner the question is out there, the sooner I can get an answer.

I look at Trace expectantly as he averts his gaze and looks down at the coffee table for a moment. His answer doesn’t look promising, but I’m not going to lose hope until he finally speaks. I watch as his smile disappears and the corners of his mouth pull down into an unmistakable frown. He looks really upset that he has to give me whatever news he’s going to present me, and its safe to say I probably don’t want to hear his response.

“No,” he says apologetically, “she tried, man, she really did. They’re just working her like a junkyard dog at the Hilton for this Grammy Party. You should have heard her though when she found out she couldn’t go; Lauren practically ripped Elliot a new one….”

The thought of her yelling at her supposed new best friend makes me feel slightly happy. While I’m glad she made the effort to try to come here for my birthday, I’m still kind of pissed that she’s finding her job to be more important than being with me. I wish she could swallow her damn pride and need for being independent and realize that I don’t care if she has a successful job or not. The frustrations are beginning to mount and I realize that not only has Lauren failed me in being a supportive girlfriend, but Maura has failed me also. She promised she was going to get Lauren up here; I guess not.

“So what are we doing tonight?” Trace asks and his mood quickly takes on the demeanor of an over excited puppy, “Tim’s throwing a huge ass party for you tonight, right?”

“Yeah, but I’m not in the mood at all,” I state in a small voice. I don’t like the feeling of disappointment that’s settling into the pit of my stomach and I know my mood is worsening. I feel bad for Trace though, he traveled all the way out here to surprise me for my birthday and I don’t want to hang out at all. “But it’s good to see you, I miss you, man.”

“I miss you, too. It’s hard enough trying to stay happy in the house with you and your shit gone. It definitely doesn’t help that Lauren mopes around all the time missing you. I personally think she just needs a good fuck and then she’ll be happy. You’ll be sure to do that when you come home in February right?”

I give Trace an appalled look. Granted he hasn’t changed much, but it’s kind of weird seeing him standing in front of me and being the same old Trace that he’s always been. If the guy only knew how desperate I am for a lay…

The phone starts to ring immediately and I jump about a foot into the air as it begins to vibrate in my front pant pocket. I grab it and bring the screen to my face. It’s Lauren.

I look at Trace and then back at the phone. Knowing that Lauren is just a phone flip away is a comforting feeling but I don’t want to talk to her right now. In fact, I’m kind of pissed that she waits until my birth day is almost over to call. Honestly she could have found a break during her work schedule to give me a little ring and tell me how much she cares or how much she wishes she could be here. But no, she’s probably having dinner with stupid Elliot and half his god forsaken family and just remembered that it was my birthday!

“Aren’t you going to get that?” Trace asks me and I shrug as if the call isn’t a big deal before I press the button that will turn the ringer off. I don’t want to hear how many times she’ll call and I don’t think I’ll listen to any of her messages until tomorrow morning when I’ve had time to steam off.

“I’m glad you came out here, Trace,” I say with a smile, “I’m going to head back to the hotel so I can get ready for the party tonight. Why don’t we meet in the lobby at one?”

“Sounds good to me!” Trace explains with a hint of sullenness in his voice. I’m sure he wants to go straight from the venue to the club, but I need to get the layer of sweat off my body before I can go anywhere public.

I gather my things and walk with Trace to the cars that will take us back to the hotel. Maura is off with Johnny taking care of some administrational stuff and I don’t want to have to look at her tonight. Knowing me, I’d probably say something really shitty to her since she failed in her attempts to get Lauren out to see me today. Part of me wants to run into her so I can make her feel like a complete failure and to tell her that she sucks at life.

The car ride is short and within ten minutes we’ve arrived at the hotel and I’m gathering my duffle bag and rushing through the melee of screaming girls into the lobby. I say goodbye to Trace when the elevator reaches his floor before mine. I’m the only one left in the elevator as it makes its descent to the top floor. Maura, probably out of pity, booked the largest suite in the hotel for my birthday should I want to invite friends and tour members up for some late night revelry. The only partying I want to partake in is the one where I get under the covers, shut my eyes, and go to sleep

Pulling out my keycard, I swipe it into the door and allow myself to enter the Presidential Suite, hoping this place is nicer than the last one we stayed in.

My feet make contact with the marble floors as I walk down a few steps into the sunken living room. I throw my bag unceremoniously onto the couch and make my way into the bedroom. The lights are off and I quickly flick them on, passing the bed and making my way into the bathroom.

“Not bad,” I mutter to myself as my eyes survey the spotless bathroom. It looks roomy enough and I think I spot a plasma television by the bathtub. Maybe I can watch porn while I soak in the tub. Nothing like a little pity party for one with special appearances by Sack McGroin and Jenna Jamison.

I turn on the hot water in the bath before I peel the T-shirt off my body and walk back out into the bedroom so I can search for a change of clothes. Where the hell did the bellhop put my suitcase?

“Looking for something?” a silky voice says behind me.

“HOLY SHIT!” I scream like a little girl as I jump about twenty feet in the air. I turn around and look at where the voice originated. When my eyes land on the perpetrator I know for a fact I slipped on the tile in the bathroom and hit my head. I’m going to wake up in five, four, three, two…

But her figure remains gloriously solid as she saunters towards me in nothing but a short, form-fitting bathrobe and I know for a fact that her figure isn’t the only other solid thing in the room.

“Holy shit, Lauren?” I ask again, but quieter this time.

“Happy birthday,” she states, a huge smile on her lips. I’m almost afraid to touch her. If I reach out and make contact she could very well disappear and I’ll be left with nothing but a running bath and a suitcase of clothes. “Surprised to see me?”

“Very,” I respond quickly. She’s coming closer and I have the strongest urge to back away so she can’t touch me. But I can’t move, I’m frozen to the spot and now she’s a mere foot away from me. I can feel her breaths on my face and I know this is either a really good hallucination or it’s very, very real. “What are you doing here? Trace said you had work.

“Well,” she says with a small laugh before she pushes a strand of hair away from her face, “Trace lied. I figured this was a more effective surprise.” She reaches with the same hand that pushed away her hair and lets it rest softly against my cheek. Her touch is softer than I remember and I can’t believe I’ve gone a month without this. “And, guessing by your expression,” she pauses a moment as her hand snakes from my cheek to rest behind my neck, pulling me closer to her before she breathes, barely above a whisper, “I was right.”

Our lips meet and its then I realize that this is very, very real. My arms, which were stationary at my sides, suddenly leap into action and they wrap themselves tightly around her slim frame, my mind not really grasping at the concept that this is actually happening. Her other hand rests against my chest and it feels cool against my searing skin. I immediately deepen the kiss and almost gasp as her tongue weaves in and out of my mouth with such elegance you’d think it was performing a dance.

I press her up against me as tightly as I can, thinking that if I relinquish my hold in any way she’ll slip through my fingers and out of my life again. The swelling in my chest makes me realize how much I miss this and how much I need her and I can tell by the urgency in her kisses that she feels the same way.

Breaking the kiss, I look down into her incandescent eyes before my lips leave a trail of kisses along her jaw, traveling down to her collarbone. She doesn’t even try to suppress a small moan of happiness as one of my hands leaves the small of her back and goes to explore the area I know is desperate for my touch.

Why the hell did I leave this behind? How have I managed to survive without feeling her close to me? How could I almost forget what this felt like? Why am I standing here thinking and not doing?

Lauren is instinctively reaching for the buttons on my jeans and I quickly free my hands, ignoring her small groan of protest. Moments later my clothes have become a distant memory and all I want my past, present, and future to be is Lauren.

Her hands are everywhere at once on my body as we resume our kissing. I can feel my skin tingling at her touch and it’s taking all my will power to not say ‘screw foreplay; let’s hop on the good foot and do the bad thing!’ But I know we need to make this last because who knows how long we have to wait until we have something like this again?

“Lauren,” I whisper hoarsely and she responds with a low rumble in her throat. It’s amazing to say her name and not hear it granulated and distorted by phone reception. I still can’t believe she’s rubbing against me and driving me insane. This is the best fucking birthday ever!

I’m growing tired of her silky bathrobe and I know that the sooner it joins my clothes on the heavily carpeted ground, the happier the two of us will be. Gingerly, I pull my hands out of her hair and let them travel down her body. I can tell she knows what’s coming because of the shivers that are cascading up and down her statuesque figure. My hands pause briefly to pay attention to her breasts and I want to chuckle when I see her bite her lip in anticipation. If she had an ounce more impatience, her robe would already be off and we’d be one step closer to what we both really want.

I allow my hands to reach her waist where the ribbon is tied securely around her middle. I undo the tie slowly, knowing that the contents underneath the light blue packaging will probably be the best present I’ve ever received in all twenty-six years on this earth. I allow a hand to slip beneath the folds of the robe, the feeling of her warm stomach sending the blood pounding through my veins.

She laughs as the robe falls open, just the slightest bit of fabric covering the backside of her body. I yank her closer to me, the small amount of time where we were even an inch apart too much for me to bear. Lauren responds by lifting her right leg off the ground and wrapping it around my leg. I can feel her moisture against me and I know that I’m going to have to act soon or I’ll bust at the seams.

I bring her lips to mine and let one of my hands tangle their way into her long russet hair, the other wrapping expertly against the small of her back. Turning the pair of us in a circle, I push her towards what I can only assume is a soft and comfortable bed. I let her fall gently onto her back while I stand over her, taking in every single curve and contour of her body.

Lauren sits up and leans against her elbows, using her shoulders to help her shrug off the rest of her robe. Her eyes are radiating with adoration and love. I can only assume I’m showing the same expressions and more. She reaches out to me with her right hand and soon I’m leaning over her, our faces inches from touching.

“Go, and don’t stop,” she whispers against my lips before I let my face rest in the nook where her neck and shoulder connect. I push my way into her slowly, almost painstakingly sluggish and I can feel her breath hitch as I move further. I kiss her collar and allow my lips to travel up to her jaw before they fall slowly to the hollow of her neck. She calls my name and I’m repeating hers over and over again, a rhythmic chant as she tightens her walls against me. My hands clench the sheets resting behind Lauren as I begin to move slowly back and forth, her hips rising to meet me in a syncopated dance.

I kiss her deeply and I gasp as her nails drag down my back, the sensation heightening every other feeling in my body. I begin to slow my pace and I almost stop completely when she grabs onto me tightly, her hands wrapping around my torso, “Don’t stop,” she growls before she kisses me fiercely. “Please don’t stop.”

I’m trying my hardest, but I know that at any moment I’m going to fall. Our movements become more frantic, our breathing rising into a raucous crescendo that will conclude with the pending release. She tightens against me once more and the shivers that overtake my body stop abruptly when a cry of paramount bliss escapes my throat. It isn’t until I’ve stopped that I realize Lauren is crying out at the same time and her moans die away soon after mine

I move away from her and hoist myself off the bed. I can hear the running water from the bath still going and I hurry into the bathroom to turn off the water. When I return, Lauren is already under the covers, watching me intently as I walk towards her. It isn’t until I’m lying next to her that she finally speaks.

“I missed you,” she murmurs and I shuffle myself closer to her until we’re hardly a foot apart. I reach out with my right hand to play with a piece of her sweat soaked hair. Lauren smiles and uses her left hand to twirl a few of my curls at the nape of my neck. I need to shave it off again…

“How long are you allowed to stay?” I ask her softly not wanting to hear her answer. I don’t know why I have to ask the questions I don’t want to hear the reply. I guess I just want to get them out of the way so dwelling on them isn’t an option.

“I have to get back to California by tomorrow afternoon,” she says bitterly and I can see the tears formulating in the corners of her eyes.

“You don’t have to go back,” I whisper, “Just stay with me, Lauren. I’ll find something for you to do here, I don’t want you to leave me again.” My hand starts to brush up and down her bare arm and I can’t help but marvel at how just feeling her skin on mine brings me so much peace of mind.

“I made a commitment to my job, Justin. I can’t go back on my word. Besides, you’ll be back in a little over a week and then we’ll have until the sixteenth to spend every waking moment together.” I know that’s a lie, we’re both going to be busy as fuck when I get back to LA for the Grammys. I’ll be rehearsing and almost every single moment I’ve been scheduled free time is dedicated to pick up rehearsals for the tour and doing press junkets for the awards. And Lauren will be working on that stupid after party and won’t have time to eat, let alone spend time with me.

“I know, but I don’t want to go back out on the road after that without you. Just promise me you’ll think about it?” I implore and I can tell she’s thinking hard about what I’ve just asked her. She’ll quit her job after the Grammy party and she’ll take up the full time job of making sure I don’t die from missing her.

“I promise,” she says with a small smile. I lean forward and kiss her on the mouth softly before I hug her closer to me. We sigh happily at the same moment and that gives way to a bout of giggles.

“God, I love you so much it hurts sometimes, you know that?” I whisper into her hair. She mutters an affirmative response into my shoulder and I smile as her breath absorbs into my damp skin.

“I love you, too,” she whispers, “More than you’ll ever know.” We lay there in silence for a few more minutes, basking in the happiness of being reunited once more. I don’t want to think about tomorrow when she has to leave and I don’t want to think about the pure torture it’s going to be waiting for the eighth to roll around.

We may not have tomorrow or three days from now, but we have tonight.

And as I kiss her forehead I realize that right now I couldn’t ask for anything more.

*~*~*~*~*

I see Lauren’s unexpected arrival a good excuse for not going to Tim’s party. Seeing as I see Timbaland more days than Lauren, she gets priority and I don’t care if he bitches about it for the rest of tour. We spent the night basking in each other’s company, talking, and we ended our happy reunion with yet another heavy make out session that resulted in some more hot ass.

But as the sun begins to creep through the curtains, I realize that today isn’t going to be a fun one. I didn’t get a wink of sleep and I know that I’m going to be cranky, irksome, and just in a really shitty mood, especially when the time comes for Lauren and Trace to go to the airport.

My phone starts to ring and I groan in protest as I untangle my limbs from Lauren’s. She’s staring at me with her steady gaze and I answer Maura’s phone call while my heart sinks into my stomach.

“Morning!” she says brightly, “You need to get up, you’ve got an interview today at the radio station and you can’t be late!”

“Thanks, Maura,” I say quietly before I hang up the phone. I don’t want to hear her voice today; the thought of locking myself in my suite with Lauren all day is a lot more appealing than sitting in a cramped radio station talking to a group of overweight DJs who make you say and do retarded shit.

“I don’t want to get up,” Lauren complains and it’s the first time I’ve heard her done so in a long time. She stretches, letting her arms rise over her head and I take the opportunity to kiss her quickly while she’s unable to do anything about it. She responds by letting her hands wrap around my neck and I know that if I don’t pull away now I will most definitely be late for the interview.

“What time does your plane leave?”

“Eleven. Trace and I will have to leave right after breakfast.”

“You sure you can’t get a later flight?” I beg and I hate the longing look that’s washed over her expression. I can tell she wants to leave later, but her stupid job won’t permit it. I almost wish I had forced her to come with me, but I understand that her sense of identity and independence is important to her even though I think her not being with me is ludicrous and just fucking stupid.

I am seriously thinking about holding her hostage.

She notices my blatant disappointment and she responds by placing several butterfly kisses on my neck. I’m about to grab her, but she moves away quickly to disappear into the depths of the suite, taking the covers with her.

“Boo, you whore!” I call after her as I scramble around the room trying to find my discarded boxers and pants. The least she could have done was walk away from me naked; it’s been a while since I had the ability to gaze on her figure for my viewing pleasure.

“Get ready!” she yells back and I stick my tongue out at her even though she can’t see me. There is an enormous part of me that wants to throw all responsibility to the wind and cancel everything today just so I can spend time with Lauren. But then again if I decide to do that, she won’t talk to me at all let alone kiss me. Sometimes I hate that she knows how my schedule works and the fact that if I’m late for one meeting, my whole day will be thrown off.

Begrudgingly, I stalk into the bathroom with the full intention of taking the quickest shower known to mankind. I rush out of the bathroom in seven minutes, putting one of the robes the hotel provides around me as I search for Lauren within the cavernous suite.

My search ends when I hear the plucking of piano keys coming from the front of the, well I guess you could call it a penthouse. The one nice thing about these huge rooms is that they think of just about everything to put in here. Granted it’s not like Vegas where there are bowling lanes, light up dance floors, and stripper poles all over their giant suites, but I mean this place does have a baby grand in its own little piano room. I guess you can hire a pianist to come up and play if you want to have a small fete or a romantic evening. Thank God our privacy can be maintained since I can play a little bit and Lauren can, apparently, play as well.

Lauren is sitting on the piano bench, the sheets from the now naked bed wrapped around her body like a toga. Her fingers are lightly brushing the keys and every so often a finger will press down and a clear tone will echo throughout the penthouse. She isn’t aware of my presence and all I can see is the top of her head since her attention is focused on the ivory and ebony keys below her tense fingers.

Leaning against the doorframe, I watch as she leans back with her eyes closed and her hands press down onto the piano and soon she’s playing out a song that sounds vaguely familiar but at five thirty in the morning I’m having a hard time placing it.

The intro over, she tilts over the keys and opens her mouth. I lean forward in anticipation because I know this is one of those rare moments where I get to see Lauren with all the barriers down. I know I’d love to think that being her boyfriend I know her bare bones and with no pretentious bullshit to get in my way, but the truth is, I’ve never seen her this exposed before, no pun intended.

I try to think back to a time where she’s ever sung where it wasn’t belting out Queen or some other British rock band in her car or room. And I need to add that her belting out these songs don’t do wonders for my delicate ears. She is far from a Christina, hell, she’s far from a Sanjaya, and yet I can’t help but think that she’ll be better when she thinks she doesn’t have an audience.

The intro to the song is over, and it’s driving me crazy that I don’t know what it is yet. It sound so fucking familiar and I know once she starts to sing I’ll want to kick myself or throw my body out the window for not knowing what it is…

“When I find myself in times of trouble, Mother Mary comes to me. Speaking words of wisdom ‘let it be,’”

And I’m going to throw myself off the balcony in three…two…one. How could I not know what this song was? Am I deaf? For someone who prides himself in loving John Lennon and most things Beatles, I’m ashamed of myself. And I call myself an artist. I should be shot on the spot.

And she continues to sing. It isn’t the most pleasant sound in the world. Her voice is grainy, raspy, and hoarse from staying up all-night and talking. It’s far from perfect and I know she won’t be getting any record deals soon and I sure as hell would rather sign one of those ridiculous cast offs from American Idol before I gave Lauren a second glance, but this voice…it suits her.

She gets to the chorus and I can’t help myself, my mouth opens and I’m singing harmony with her. Lauren looks up clearly shocked and her hands immediately fly away from the piano and she slams the top over the keys. “You scared me,” she admonishes and I shrug as I make my way over to her and sit down on the bench. “I think that was the shortest shower in the history of the world,” she adds.

“Well that’s because you weren’t in there to make it interesting,” I retort before I lean over and kiss her temple, “You never told me you played.”

“You never asked,” she responds with a small grin, “Besides, I’m not that good. I gave up playing when I got to college. Not enough time.”

“I could give you pick me up lessons,” I say softly as I let a finger rub up and down her arm.

“Yeah, and I’m sure that would end up with you trying to convince me to have sex on top of the piano.”

“I’ve always wanted to try it,” I say wistfully as I stare at the shiny black surface of the instrument, “We could just skip the lesson and go straight to the sex,” I offer and she shakes her head before she stands up and walks towards the doorway I was just leaning against.

“No because then you’d get all sweaty again, and I’m sure you have to be downstairs in a few minutes so you can get to the radio station…”

“I’m not going,” I say quickly making up my mind. Spending time with her is more important and I’m thinking if I cancel the interview we can actually stop talking about the piano sex thing and actually make it a real thing.

“Oh yes you are. I did not fly five hours with Trace on my ass about retarded shit so you could have me all to yourself. Your best friend came out to see you and since you more than likely blew him off last night, you should at least spend the morning with him before we have to jet.”

“I’ve had twenty-six years with Trace, you and I have had five years. Guess who wins?”

“Justin, I won’t have this argument with you. Like I said, you’re coming back to LA in a few weeks and we’ll see each other then. But I don’t want you to blow off your commitments and the midget.”

“But you’re my commitment,” I respond loudly and she holds up a hand to show that she isn’t going to listen to this any further.

“I’m going to get ready. Go get Trace, we’ll have breakfast, and then I’ll give you your real birthday present.”

Oh I hate it when she hangs surprises over my head like that. Granted if her showing up unannounced in my hotel room in the middle of the night isn’t my real present I can’t even begin to imagine what else is in store for me.

Maybe I’ll be getting sex on the piano after all…or maybe she’ll be really adventurous and we can have a quickie in the elevator. I’m adding that onto my already long list of Places to Have Sex in. That’s going right behind the Pirates of the Caribbean Ride in Disneyland.

See what happens when Lauren comes around? My mind goes straight to my dick. Hey, the little guy has got needs too.

*~*~*~*~*

“You guys fucked last night, didn’t you?”

Lauren surges forward and smacks Trace hard on the arm. “Would you shut the fuck up?” she seethes. We’re downstairs on the ground floor of the hotel, in the restaurant where they serve breakfast almost twenty four hours a day. It’s like a really swank Dennys and without all the weird trucker stop folks around. The place is practically empty, but it seems as if Lauren doesn’t want our late night tryst broadcast to any ears that could be listening in.

“I knew it!” he crows before he cackles with laughter. All I can do is grin from ear to ear as Trace leads us to the table that we’re apparently sitting at for our early morning meal. I can’t believe I’m actually among the living at Six AM, but here I am sitting next to Lauren and across from Trace. This is like my dearest dream come true. I don’t want it to end and I know once we’ve finished eating, my two friends, one a brother the other the love of my life, will be back on a plane without me.

Really God, can you throw me a bone here?

“Thank God, man,” Trace quips as he browses the menu, “she was getting unbearable at home. I know you loosened that pu….” But his words are cut off when there’s a loud thud coming from underneath the table and the condiments, silverware, and mugs for coffee jump a few inches around the table. “OUCH, bitch that hurt!” Trace yelps as he leans forward and rubs what I’m sure is his leg.

I look over at Lauren who’s looking very pleased with herself and I laugh as I sling an arm around her shoulder. It’s just like old times and I’m practically floating on air from the happiness. “Well you deserved it. I don’t run around heralding your sex life to the world…or lack thereof.”

“And Walters is out for blood!” Trace grumbles under his breath as the over excited waitress comes up and asks us for our orders.

Fifteen minutes of general chatter, laughter, and blue streak cursing later we’ve received our food and I’m hoping Trace and Lauren can eat as slowly as I intend to. Maybe if I stall they’ll miss their flight and have to stay another night.

My cell phone rings and I groan when I realize its Maura. No doubt she’s wondering where I am and I almost don’t want to answer it. IF I do, she’ll find me and make me eat at lightning speed so I can get to the radio interview I’m already five minutes late to. I can afford to make her work for this though, she needs to understand that being with Trace and Lauren is important to me, and my entourage can kiss my ass if they can’t wrap their heads around that concept.

“You going to get that?”

“No,” I state firmly as I shove some eggs into my mouth. Trace is shoveling bites of pancakes into his mouth like they’re going out of style and Lauren is carefully calculating how she’s going to attack the enormous breakfast burrito that’s sitting innocently on her plate. Yup, everything is normal.

My phone starts to ring again and this time the ring tone is different. I groan in defeat when I realize my mother is calling me. I guess Maura found the one of the two people who I will drop everything in my world for, Lauren and my Mama.

“Hello?” I say sheepishly into my phone. Trace is braying at me like some retarded donkey and Lauren looks bemused.

“I know you know that I know you know that this radio interview is important,” Mama says groggily into the phone. I feel bad because Maura probably woke her up in order to find me and I spill at least twenty apologies into my phone before I persuade her to go back to bed.

“Don’t worry about it,” Lauren says once I’m off the phone with mom, “We have to go get our stuff ready for the airport. The car is going to be here in ten minutes.”

Ten minutes? Is that all I have left with them?

As we leave the restaurant with slightly bloated stomachs, Johnny comes storming at me, not looking pleased in the least. He begins to chew me out for not keeping my priorities straight and all I can do is stand in the middle of the empty lobby while my manager chews me out in front of Trace and Lauren. “I want you in the car for this interview in five minutes, Justin. No excuses.”

Nope, I was wrong. Instead of ten minuets, I have five.

Johnny storms away and I mentally take his Christmas bonus down a few grand.

“I’m sorry,” I apologize quickly as Trace and Lauren shrug it off like me getting bitched at is an every day occurrence

“I’ll just give you your present now,” Lauren states simply and she looks over at Trace who seems to take the hint. He rushes forward and gives me a huge hug before he turns tail and rushes towards the elevators. I’m sure he’s running up to their respected rooms to grab whatever luggage they managed to bring with them. I turn to look at Lauren and see that she’s walking towards the small sitting area they have in the lobby of the hotel.

I follow her and sit down on the overstuffed and stiff couch. Her legs instantly drape over my lap and I wrap an arm around her shoulders. “Do you really have to go?” I ask her for what I can only assume is the thousandth time. She shakes her head sadly and I hope I’m imagining the tears that are formulating in the corners of her eyes. I can’t stand to see her cry and knowing that I have to say goodbye to her yet again is slowly tearing at my insides. My omelet wants to reappear on the floor.

“I’ll be seeing you before you know it,” she says softly and I reach out to push a damp strand of hair behind her ear. She sighs softly and leans into my touch. I’ve come to an executive decision. I don’t care what size her luggage is, I will manage to contort my body to fit its size and I will go back to California with her. I’ll quit the music scene, become a juggler and support Lauren and myself with my amazing abilities to juggle, chainsaws, or cats, or some shit like that.

“That isn’t soon enough,” I whine and she laughs before reaching forward and tweaking me on the nose.

“Ever the drama queen,” she comments. I shake my head and when I look back into her eyes, I see the tiny wrapped package that’s sitting in her lap.

“And what is this?”

“Your birthday present,” Lauren responds simply before she pushes it into my hands.

“You know you didn’t have to get me anything. You being here is pretty much twenty years worth of presents,” I say tenderly as I finger the edges of the wrapping.

“Well, I’ll remember that. You won’t be getting your next present from me until you’re forty-six.”

Damn, I just had to open my mouth. Well I guess I can reserve the piano sex as a present for an anniversary gift or when my next album goes gold…or whenever Lauren loses a bet. I rip the paper off a medium shaped box and when I open it, my eyes widen with surprise.

This had to have cost her at least half her paycheck from working at the Hilton. It’s a large bracelet almost identical to the one I gave her for Christmas. I look from the piece of jewelry to her shining eyes in shock. She didn’t have to do this…I don’t deserve this.

“I-I can’t accept this,” I stutter as I try to push the box back into her hands. She balls them up into fists and crosses her arms, apparently unwilling to take the bracelet back.

“Sure you can,” she says simply before she reaches forward and pulls the bracelet from the box. Holding it one hand, she reaches out with the other one and grasps my right wrist. I give her a reproachful look as she latches it on, and finally with a disgruntled sigh, I accept her gift

“You didn’t have to do this, really it’s too much.”

“And what am I supposed to get my boyfriend who has almost everything? Really it’s hard coming up with that shit and I was running out of ideas. Don’t freak out about it, really it wasn’t as expensive as you’re making it out to be.”

Yeah right. If I know Lauren at all she probably stalked Jacob the Jeweler and spent at least fifteen thousand or some other astronomical price on the diamond bracelet that’s now attached to my wrist.

And to think I almost skipped the visit to Tiffany’s for her bracelet and went straight to Jared’s.

“Hmm, I don’t know,” I start thoughtfully, “What about piano sex?”

Lauren rolls her eyes and starts to say something but I silence her with a quick kiss. “But I really love this,” I mutter against her lips, “Thank you.”

“No problem,” she responds before she kisses me again. I allow my hands to grasp onto the sides of her neck as I bring her closer to me. I know this is probably going to be one of the last times I kiss her until I get back in town for the Grammys and I want her to make her remember this one for a while. I want this kiss to leave her weak in the knees and make her realize that she has to wait a whole two weeks until she can have me again.

She tries to take the kiss further, but I pull away deliberately and begin to plant butterfly kisses on her nose, eyelids, forehead, and jaw. Lauren sighs happily as I allow my hands to tangle themselves in her now wavy hair. I pull down slightly and watch as her head falls back a few inches, her neck becoming exposed. I start to assail it and I can tell by the soft moan that’s omitting from her throat that she’s about ready to say screw the plane and take me somewhere more private.

I would be more than happy to oblige, but I know that my time is almost up and if I’m not in the car, Johnny will be out for blood and my firstborn. I plant my hands on Lauren’s cheeks and I stare at her for a good minute. She realizes that I’ve stopped the kissing and she opens one eye and then the other when she notices I’m looking at her intently.

“I’m going to miss you,” she whispers. She inclines her head so her forehead is resting against my own.

“Don’t go,” I try again. She closes her eyes and I try to ignore the tears that are threatening to fall onto both our faces.

“Justin!” I can hear Johnny bellowing from the front doors of the hotel. “Move your ass!”

“Come home to me in one piece,” she adds. I lean forward and peck her quickly on the lips

“I love you. Don’t let work or the midget stress you out too much.”

“I won’t. I love you, too. I don’t think I can say that enough, I love you.” I smile against her lips and she reaches forward to kiss me again.

“Justin!”

“He’s coming! Jesus, Johnny!” Lauren pulls her head away so she isn’t screaming her response at my manager in my face. I have to laugh at her unexpected outburst.

“You’re unbelievable, you know that?”

“So they tell me.”

“And that wasn’t cocky at all,” I add sarcastically with a raised eyebrow. She shrugs before she kisses me

“I learn from the best,” Lauren retorts before I kiss her fiercely.

I know Johnny has taken it a step too far when my phone starts to ring. “Shit, I better go,” I say as I pull myself away from her. I start to stand up only to find that I’ve grown a pile of lead in my feet.

“See you soon,” she calls over the couch as I start to walk towards the exit, “I love you!”

“Love you more!” I reply over my shoulder. I keep my eye on her retreating figure, hoping I don’t run into anybody. The doorman holds open the large oak door for me and with a firm ‘whoosh,’ Lauren has escaped my sight.

I sigh heavily as I get into the enormous black Escalade that’s waiting for me and I can feel my mood begin to worsen. I glare at all the tired, tense, yet happy faces around me and I want nothing more than to smack the expressions off their faces. Johnny doesn’t look pleased, but I don’t give a fuck.

The cars pull out of the hotel and I lean back into my seat, wondering if it’s too soon to call Lauren or not. I don’t want to seem desperate or look like a pussy in front of half my security or…wait where the hell is Maura?

My silent question is answered when all of a sudden a big, wet tongue is attacking the side of my face. I jump about twenty feet in the air as I move sideways to see what the fuck is assaulting my face. I was so preoccupied with leaving Lauren that I didn’t realize both Buckley and Brennan are inhabiting the seats next to me. I can feel my spirits lift slightly as I begin to scratch both my babies behind the ears. A slight whimper alerts me that there’s another unknown mammal in the car.

Turning around I see Maura cowering against Eric, looking at my dogs as if they’ll eat her face off at any second. “Hey, they aren’t going to hurt you, don’t worry.”

“Yeah,” she says in a small voice, “Old habits die hard, you know?” And before I can say anything she’s offering me a hot venti latte from Starbucks and my iPod already set to my favorite playlist.

“What’s with the special treatment today?” I ask her as I place the buds into my ears.

“I figured you wouldn’t be in the best mood when you had to leave, Lauren,” she states darkly and I can’t quite place the infliction in her voice. I suddenly remember that she promised to get Lauren out to me for my birthday and the girl definitely pulled through. I’m sure she isn’t pleased that I haven’t thanked her yet for more than likely busting her balls to get my girlfriend out here when she promised.

I grin as I reach out and pat Maura’s hand, “Maura Delaney, you are a God send.”

And as I turn to the first track on my playlist, take a sip of my coffee, and scratch Buckley on the nose, I mean it.