I awake at sunrise. Not on purpose, it just happens that way. I'd partied hard for just a few hours before the past four days-specifically events the day before-caught up with me. I left JC, happily drunk and holding court with the guys, swapping stories of our youth and indoctrinating Matt into the group.

I stumbled back to my room and just managed to take my sundress off and throw on a night shirt before I fell into the bed and a deep sleep.

Somewhere around 2am, my slumber is interrupted by a beep and the click of the door lock and for a millisecond I'm alarmed. I sit straight up in bed, yelp, "Who's there?" while blindly flailing my arms about, feeling for a lamp but not remembering where they were placed in the room.

"It's just me," says a voice, almost whispering, familiar, soothing. Soft light from the bedside lamp floods the room and JC stands next to the bed, gazing down on me with amusement in his eyes. He's wearing the hotel bathrobe again, so he'd obviously gone to his room first and changed. "Do you want me in here, or should I go back to my room?"

"Oh." I lay a hand over my heart, which is trying to gallop out of the left side of my chest. "I forgot I gave you a key. Yeah... I... I want you in here." I reach across the bed and pull the covers down, making an opening for him.

"Good," he said, untying the robe and kicking off the flip flops he'd worn from his room to mine. "Because I wasn't leaving."

"Then why ask me?" I say, grumbling as I scoot over and make room for him. Clad only in boxer briefs, he slips under the covers with me and reaches to snap off the lamp before he lies down, wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me to him. This gesture makes me smile. I'm snug up against him, his chest hair and cool skin and beard stubble molding me to him.

"Common courtesy," he answers. "Ever hear of it?"

"Sure, I have. Surprised you know the meaning of it, though."

"If I don't surprise you once a day, I don't feel like I'm on my job."

"Well, you're on your job," I mumble. My eyes drift shut and I am on my way back to sleep.

"Did I do okay, tonight? I mean... did I play the role okay?"

I nod, my forehead swishing against the crisp fabric of the pillow. "Perfect. I was actually really annoyed with you."

His head lifts from the pillow. "What? When?"

"When you sat down next to me on the bench outside the bar, practically pushing me off of it, dropped a sloppy wet kiss on my cheek and yelled, ‘what's up, roomie!?' loud enough for most of the island to hear. You're really irritating when you want to be."

"It's a gift."

"It's an annoying gift."

"But you're not mad at me right now, right?"

I snuggle even closer to him and lay my hand over his, draped across my thigh. "Nope. Not a bit."

A few hours later, the fiery orange glow of the sun rises over the Caribbean Sea and the island of St. Lucia. The geniuses that we are didn't think to close the drapes over the windows nor the French doors to the patio, so as soon as the first rays break the horizon, the room is filled with a dusty pink glow. Shards of sunlight poke at my eyelids until I force them open.

My eyes roam the room as far as they can without moving my head. All is quiet, save the muted sounds of the ocean running over the sand at the shore. That, and JC's light snore. During the night he'd rolled over, away from me. I have a nice view of his back and the tousled curls in a mess all over his head.

I sit up and stretch, then work my feet out of the blankets and crawl out of the bed. The room is cool;  I rub my arms to alleviate the chill bumps that pop up. I pad to the bathroom and empty my bladder, still full from the night before. At the sink, I wash my hands and then my face, brush my teeth, smooth my hair back and head back into the bedroom.

JC is exactly where I left him, lying on his side, both arms hanging off of the edge of the bed. His mouth is slightly open, his eyes shut tight. I can't suppress my urge to lean over and drop a kiss on his forehead. My lips gently brush the smooth skin near his hairline and I dare to tuck a curl behind his ear.

As I straighten to step back, he reaches out and claps a strong hand around my thigh, sudden and swift. His eyes pop open and he says, in a gritty, slumber filled voice, "Where you going?"

I scream and then laugh, then punch him in the shoulder. "Let go of me!"

He sits up, grabs me by the waist and hoists me onto the bed. I land in his lap and throw my arms around his neck. He dips his head to me and drops a soft, sweet kiss on my lips.

"I'm sure I need to brush, so that'll have to do for now. What are you doing up?"

"Sun woke me up," I answer, beaming up at him. He's so beautiful to me, from the wild Alfalfa- like curl at the top of his head to the overnight beard growth on his cheeks to his warm smile and sturdy, strong physique holding me close to him. "And my bladder. I think I drank a pitcher of Mojitos by myself. What are you doing up?"

"Girlfriend woke me up," he says, tipping his head back and letting a yawn escape him. "I heard you in the bathroom. I wasn't even going to mess with you but you had to come lay those lips on me, and..."

"Mmmhmm, I couldn't resist."

"That's usually what happens," he says, before he realizes what he's said and he turns pale. "I-I mean..."

"I know, JC. I know. You don't have to walk on eggshells with me. I hope you don't think you do."

"No, I don't think that. Just, for some reason, things fall out of my mouth and I just think some things are better left unsaid. Like bragging to my current girlfriend about how much the ladies want me and find me irresistible and stuff like that."

"Well, I don't know why I should be any different. You once told me that you were a virile, attractive young man and that you could basically get any woman you wanted." I shrug, gazing up at him with innocent, doe eyes.

"I said that, huh? Well I was probably just trying to impress you or something."

"Probably."

"Besides, it's true."

I let one eyebrow raise in question. "Oh?"

"Well, I decided I wanted you. And look who's sitting in my lap right now?" He asks this question as he slaps my thigh and then grips the meaty underside.

I laugh, heartily, kicking my leg out of his grip. "You are such a pompous asshole."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." I stretch up to kiss him, my lips lingering on his for a few seconds. "But you're my pompous asshole."

"That's what I'm talkin' about!" He says, and then pushes me off of his lap. "Speaking of full bladders..."

A few hours later, we take the elevator to the ground floor of the hotel and part at the entrance doors. He's dressed in regulation golf attire-knee length plaid shorts, white sneakers and a polo, and headed to the golf shop to rent clubs and spend the morning bonding with the men.

I head in the direction of the Spa, wearing my swimsuit under a thin, sheer cover-up that flutters in the breeze as I pick my way down the sidewalk. I'm oddly aware of the grin on my face and I'm trying hard to erase it.

JC and I spent the morning having slow, quiet, decadent sex and then we had breakfast out on the patio while we watched the island wake up. By the time we dragged ourselves inside to get ready for the day, I was wishing we hadn't have planned so many events. Or at least that we could beg off and steal away and just be with each other. We definitely needed to come back. Or go someplace else, just the two of us.

I smile again, thinking how nice it would be to go away with him and have him all to myself.

Get a grip on yourself, Angie. People-- and by people, I mean Jackie-- will be able to tell. Wipe that ‘I just had sex' smile off your face and get with the program.  

I am the last to arrive at the spa, a spacious two floor complex bathed in white. On first glance the Spa seems to offer every treatment under the sun. Morgan requested The Bridal Party Package, which includes a full body massage, a sea salt scrub, a facial, paraffin dip for hands and feet and a manicure and pedicure. Outside of that, we could opt for a mud bath or a sea kelp soak or a dip in the Jacuzzi.   

Morgan and most of her entourage are seated in the quiet lounge area, heads bent over clipboards, pens scratching across forms. Soothing guitar music floats from the speakers above us and aside from the ever present sound of the ocean in the background, the ten foot salt water fish tank hums and bubbles and gurgles. I find the sound relaxing as I grab a clipboard with the permission slips and a pen and take a seat to fill out the paperwork.

"So how did things go last night, Angie?" Bridget is asking, her thin lips bent into a smirk.

"You guys are real funny. Real funny."

Morgan laughs. "Aw, I'm sure it wasn't that bad. He promised he would be good."

"How come he was in your room when I called you yesterday?" Bridget again, the nosy bitch.

I balance the clipboard on my knees and mechanically fill in my information-name, address, date of birth.  I pause to answer. "You must be joking. Or senile, to not remember that this is a man that has not been able to ignore or avoid me, ever, in our entire lives. You put him in a room next to me, in a hotel off by ourselves... where did you think he was going to end up? He just couldn't wait to get to my room."

"Did you guys drink the champagne?" Morgan asks.

"JC drank most of it, "I answer with what I hope is a convincing, nonchalant shrug. It's the truth, actually. "He dragged me out to the balcony and we did a toast."

"Oh? A toast to...." Jackie lets the end of her question trail off, leaving me to fill in the blanks before she fills them in for me.

"We actually pulled this thing off without killing each other. I think that's a toastable event for us."  She looks disappointed when I don't admit to having wild sex with JC (in the middle of the day, on vacation, on an island) in my bed and exclaim that I am falling for him all over again. She'll probably go into premature labor when she finds out.

I finish filling out my forms and stack them on top of the pile that has gathered. I return the clipboard and the pen and turn to Morgan. She is bright-eyed and sunny with a wide blue headband holding her blonde hair back. She looks happy-giddy is more the word, despite what I am sure was a late night for her. She will be running on sheer adrenaline until the moment she says I Do.

"Are we ready to get this show on the road, or what?"

Jackie can't have a massage because of her pregnancy-the pushing and pulling and kneading might set off contractions-so she spends her time wandering from station to station, visiting with everyone and helping the staff deliver water and towels, along with coffee and mimosas. She settles into a soft, worn leather chair and hands me a flute of barely orange tinged champagne. I'm lying on my stomach and enjoying my massage but that doesn't stop me from trying to sip my drink.

She folds her hands over her belly and glances up at me, her brown eyes wide and full of fake innocence. I am almost positive she knows, but I'll never admit it. "So..."

I take a few sips and, frowning, hand the flute back to her. "Jackie, I swear if you ask me something about JC I will sucker punch you. I don't even care that you're pregnant."

"You would not," she shoots back, not in the least afraid of me.

"Try me."

"Okay. Fine. I won't ask about JC. How's life? How's work? How's your dad? What's up with JC?"

I groan and press my head into the opening provided in the massage table.

"Oh I know, but I have to ask, because you two just look so happy right now and I would love it if that meant that-"

"Jackie." I manage to sound stern and even a little angry.

I can almost feel her pained squint as she answers, "Yes?"

"Please go find someone else to bother. I'm trying to relax here and you keep bringing up a person I don't want to talk about."

"No, don't kick me out. Okay, okay. I'll be good. Tell me about work. How's it going? Still really stressful?"

"It's alright. Better now that the case I where I was up against JC is over.  I'm happy to not be there right now."

"You said a few weeks ago that you might be burnt out at the firm." I did? Damn, Morgan's Bachelorette party! What else did I say?  "Are you still feeling that way?"

"You know..."   I tip my head to the side and sigh as the masseuse works his hands skillfully across my lower back. I carry a lot of stress there; I feel it oozing away with every wave of his hand across my skin.  "I like being the kind of attorney that does good things. Fights for the underdog, the wronged tenants and the victims of uncaring utility companies and thieving plumbers. I like solving legal problems. I never want to defend murders or drunk drivers -Tyler loves that stuff and so does JC.  I love the human interest kind of cases."

"So why can't you keep taking those kinds of cases?"

I lift my head and reach for my glass. Jackie hands it to me and watches me sip, then takes it back as I lick the sweetness off of my lips.  

"It's not up to me as to what kinds of cases I get. They're assigned. And it seems like the partners want to move away from the services function of law and be more of a defense firm." 

My caseload, at the moment, is a teenager accused of shoplifting; an elderly woman that accidentally backed into another car and the other driver won't settle; and a property damage case in which a city water main broke and flooded a home.  Not the cream of the crop, not my forte and not anything I really want to be doing. While I'm researching the rights of the city vs. the rights of a citizen, or whether or not a seventeen year old can be tried as an adult for theft, or if an 88 year old should even still have a driver's license, a hundred people lose their homes every week due to housing discrimination. That's my heart's work... but since Ramirez v Bailey settled, the partners want me working on more complicated legal issues. I think they think it's a promotion, but it isn't.

"The mission seems stagnant, like they're moving away from the work that put us on the map. I don't get to choose what cases I want to work anymore. They assign me to what they think I can win."

"Like the ones where they used to make you go against JC."

"Exactly. I mean, I loved those cases but if I had my pick, I wouldn't have taken them. I only won against him once, and that was because he gave up. And he only did that because he was quitting Perry."

"Yeah, what was up with that? He won't tell anyone what he's doing now or what he plans on doing. He's always been wide open, bragging about a great case he's working on or a huge bonus he got for a settlement. He's so secretive right now. Kinda scary. Makes me wonder what's up his sleeve."

"Well, he's resourceful," I comment, and stifle a yawn. "I'm sure he's got something worked out. We'll find out eventually."  

"What about you though? You can't stay at Flanning forever. You're good enough to move up, move out. You should be a Partner by now. You're the best attorney they have there."

I smile at my friend, who really knows nothing about the legal field past what she's seen on Law and & Order and its various iterations and what she's heard from JC and I. When I first met Jackie, she was dating a fellow law student at Berkley Law. She tagged along to a couple of study sessions and we hit it off right away. The relationship didn't work out, but our friendship did. She's still only managed to soak up a minute amount of information about the law and what it's like to be an attorney.

"Thanks for the compliment, Jacks. I'm far from the best. I'm good... but I'm not that good. Makes me think, though." I heave my body up onto my elbows. I'm so relaxed I feel like I could seep right off the table and onto the floor, just pour me to the next station.

"About?"

"Going out on my own. Or going to another firm." I smile. "You know Perry once recruited me?"

Her mouth drops and her eyes widen. "Shut up! When?"

"A few years ago, they called me up. JC must have told them all about how we'd known each other forever. They said they thought we'd make a great Dream Team. We could try cases together. Why, what with my smarts-"

"And his charm-"

"We'd make a great Power Couple!" We both collapse in peals of laughter. "Obviously I turned them down. The offer was lucrative, though. And I think if I could get an offer like that from Perry, I should be able to move on to another firm."

"You should really think about it. It might change your life."

Jackie pushes herself up from the chair and hands me my champagne flute before waddling out of the room. I lift the crystal to my lips and sip while watching the view of the beach and the surf outside the windows.

Oh, Jackie. If you only knew how much my life has already changed.   

After my massage, I am relaxed and fluid, floating from one station on the first floor to the next station upstairs on the second floor. I enjoy my salt scrub, practically purring at the sensation of coarse granules sloughing off surface skin and revealing soft, supple skin underneath. From there I head to the Paraffin dip area and am seated in a spa chair. As soon as I slide into the chair, I hear a muffled gasp.

The patron next to me is wearing a green clay mask over her face but I recognize the deep brown wavy hair with golden highlights and the generous chest belonging to Jade.

"Oh, hey," I toss over at her, and return my attention to the technician who is stirring paraffin dip in the seat in front of me.

"Hi," she returns. But she doesn't face front. Instead she continues to stare at the side of my face until I give her the attention she seems to be demanding.

"Something you need to say to me?"

"I was going to ask you the same question."

"Why would I have anything to say to you?"

"Well you might tell me why you're being such a bitch to me. I don't even know you and I'm not here with JC."

"Yeah, that's right. You don't know me. All the more reason for us to not really have to talk. I know you're here with Tyler but that doesn't mean we have to be best friends." 

I lift my foot, as directed by the technician, so she can brush the thick, warm wax on to my feet. It feels so luxurious and decadent, in direct contrast to the conversation I'm having.

"I'm not asking to be your best friend. I just don't want Tyler in the middle of anything, you know? He didn't ask to be in this. I said I didn't know they were brothers when I met him and I meant that. I never knew JC's last name. We didn't get that far."

I'm trying hard not to smart at her comment. We didn't get that far. JC said he never slept with her and I have to believe that.

"Look... I don't really care about what's going on between you and Tyler. If he's happy, I'm happy. But I've known him his entire life and I know he'd be really upset if you had any kind of ulterior motive for being here. And I just think it's funny that you and he met a few weeks ago and you've already managed to get yourself invited to an island in the Caribbean. Where his brother also happens to be."

"Especially after having sort of dated his brother and basically getting kicked to the curb?"

Now you're getting the picture, missy. My answer is a curt nod and a glare before looking away.  

"And you think I'm here with Tyler to get close to JC."

"I didn't say that-"

"But you think it. Tyler already told me all about it."

My heart skips a beat and I feel my face flush. Tyler told her all about what?  "Tyler should concentrate on his own issues. Whatever your deal is, don't hurt him in the process."

Jade huffs a frustrated breath and sits up in her salon seat, her shoulders pivoted toward me so I don't miss a word.  "I don't have a deal, Angie," she retorts. "I'm here to have a good time with a guy I like and that's it. I paid for my own ticket and I offered to reimburse Morgan and Nick for the room. They won't take it. I don't know what more I can do to prove to you that I'm not here to take your boyfriend."

The word boyfriend sticks in my brain and causes a pileup of words behind it. Why does she think JC is my boyfriend? I mean, he is... but no one is supposed to know that.

"First of all," I utter, trying to recover. "If Tyler told you everything, he left out the part where JC isn't my boyfriend. We dated a long time ago and broke up in high school and he's been stalking me ever since. Him being my boyfriend is this wedding party's wet dream. Everyone wants us back together."

"That much is obvious," she says, relaxing into the leather seat again. "You guys are all anyone talks about around here."

Incredulous, I turn to face her."What, really?"

"God, yes. You'd think you two were the guests of honor. Yesterday everyone was wondering if you were getting along or if you'd have to chuck him over the balcony before the end of the first day."

I giggle, more at the thought of everyone talking about us than the imagery of throwing JC off the balcony-though a month or so ago it would have been a good option.

"I'm just saying ... I'm here to have fun. Relax on a beach, swim in the ocean, get to know this lawyer I met. Tyler's a cool guy. His brother is an asshole who doesn't want me. There's no bigger turn off than a guy who isn't into you. I'm not trying to conquer him. Besides..."

She pauses, and the tone and octave in her voice goes lower, softer.  "It's so totally obvious that he wants to be with you. I can't compete with how he looks at you when you don't know he's watching you."

I don't know how to respond. Indignance? Disbelief? Quiet humility?

"That day I was at his house and you showed up... Before you came over he'd been talking real easy. Flirty, you know? I thought something was happening there. After you left he was different. Distracted. And a little bit... I don't know if I want to say sad." 

She shrugs. "I didn't last another hour. He said he wasn't feeling me, thanked me for coming by and walked me to my car. I'd bragged so much about catching him, this awesomely cute, rich lawyer dude. I was so embarrassed I quit the bar. Thank God I got this new job right after."

That was the night I went over to apologize, grovel, make things right with him; otherwise Morgan was going to cut us out of the wedding. And before I left, we'd decided to work together and pull it off, then  basically forget we ever knew each other. The light at the end of the tunnel was a great motivator.

That was the start of the countdown for me, the only thing that made planning the wedding with JC worth it. I marvel at how different things are between us now.

"Okay... I'm sorry. I overreacted. I go all mama bear over Tyler. That kid is just... he grew up one house down from me. I know him like the back of my hand. He's a sweet guy. I don't want to see him hurt."

Jade smiles, her countenance soft. She nods, slowly and deeply, forgiving. "I get it. And he's lucky to have you. Are you always like this with his girlfriends?"

I slide my wax covered hands into warm gloves that are then strapped around my wrists and sit immobile, wearing the equivalent of oven mitts on my hands and electric booties on my feet while the wax does its job.

"I've seen girls do all kinds of things-lie, cheat, steal-- to get close to JC, including using Ty. So, when they used to date his older brother? Yeah. The claws come out."

##

The Bachelorette Brunch is a beautiful affair with more food than we could ever eat, served buffet style. Fresh seafood, sizzling steak and chicken, rich side dishes in delicious cream sauces, crisp vegetables, followed up by three different kinds of cheesecake and endless champagne and wine bar. By the time we stumble out of the event room, we're tipsy, giggly, and swiping tears from makeup stained cheeks.

As bridal gifts, Morgan gave each of us diamond tennis bracelets to wear during the ceremony. It's the most thoughtful gift I've ever received. I heard the men got cufflinks at their post- golf lunch from Nick. This wedding is turning out to be such a monumental event.

Andrew arrives with a load from the airport, including Morgan and Nick's parents. We all head straight to the site of the wedding-a spanse of beach already cleared of tourists, plants and rocks and smoothed to perfection. The bride and groom, wedding band and guests will be covered by an enormous canopy.

We run through the ceremony quickly. JC and I walk down the aisle, first in line. Morgan and Nick stand next to us, respectively. The rest of the party follows and the officiant reviews the order of the ceremony-recognition of parents, the vows, the rings, the kiss. And then the party.  It will be very short and very sweet.

"Thanks everybody," Nick calls out as the officiant calls an end to the rehearsal and people begin to disperse. "If you're joining us for the Rehearsal Dinner, it's at six at The Cliff. It should be on your hotel maps and it's within walking distance. Dress is casual, just come on down and celebrate-"

"Your last night as a single man!" Keith interrupts, clapping Nick on the back.

"Well, yes... that," Nick answers through a cough and a laugh.

It appears that we are free for a few hours. I know what's on my mind-I've not seen JC all day and I really just want to be close to him. Like, skin to skin, cheek to cheek close to him. I catch his eye ever- so- briefly and start to head toward our villa.

Ten minutes after I arrive at my room, kick off my shoes and pull off my cover-up, a light tap-tap sounds at the door, followed by the swipe of a keycard and a beep as the door opens. JC saunters into my room, a slight smile on his lips, the sunlight filtering through the curls atop his head.

"Hey."

"Hey? That's all you have for me?"

I laugh and move across the room, stepping into his arms, letting him squeeze me right up against him. I feel his heartbeat pounding through his chest and his lungs sucking in and expelling air. An appreciative groan begins as a rumble in his chest and curls out of his mouth as he wraps himself around me, tucking his head between my neck and shoulder.

"Missed you today," he mumbles between brushes of his lips against my skin.

I reluctantly pull away, but only to move us further into the room. I climb up onto the bed and lay across it, inviting him to sprawl out next to me. He grins as he stretches and yawns, his moves simultaneously cat-like and cute as fuck.

"God, I missed you. You're all anyone wanted to talk about today."

"Oh really?"

"Yeah. Girls are gossipy. Bridget was all, ‘why was JC in your room when I called' and Morgan was all ‘did you guys drink the champagne' and I wanted to be all ‘we fucked all afternoon and this morning, are you happy?'  Bitches."

JC is laughing, that chesty, gut level laugh that I have always loved, that used to give me heartburn when I heard it across the room because I missed hearing it so much. My days of missing the sound of him laughing are, I hope, long gone.

"Well, no one on the course wanted to talk about you."

"Really? Assholes. Why don't you have to go through seven levels of interrogation about someone you're supposedly not dating?"

He shrugs, leaning on one elbow. "Guys are oblivious to that shit. Don't ask, don't tell. Bro Code. You know the deal."

"Whatever. I need a Sis Code."

He laughs. "So we're going to spend these couple hours of free time we have talking about how our friends don't know we're back together?"

I smile and shake my head. "No. No we are not.  Come here."

He grins and tips toward me, his lips landing on mine in what starts as a funny smooch but turns on a dime into a passionate, sucking-air-through-my-nose, breathtaking kiss. When he comes up for air, he seems pretty proud of himself. I just laugh.

"Have a good day?" He asks. I nod, running my fingers through his wavy hair and smiling up at him. He grabs and hand and, brows furrowed, examines it. "What all did you girls have done? Massage and... hey, they waxed the hair off of your fingers!"

"Shut the fuck up, JC."

He laughs. "You realize that you haven't said that to me in weeks?"

"You were overdue. Do you have something else to say so I can call you an asshole?"

"Covered that this morning."

"Oh yeah." I giggle. "We had massages and a salt scrub and a paraffin dip and manicures and pedicures."

He frowns. "Did you have to stay awake for all that?"

"It's fun if you're a girl. Guys are cavemen. They don't have to do anything."

"Bullshit! How do you think I keep my boyish looks?  Check out this skin." He leans down so his forehead is in my face. "Blemish free, right? Look at that hair. Luscious, shiny curls." He tips his head up and shoves a finger into my eye line. "Look at these hands. These nails, perfectly trimmed, buffed to a shine. Don't tell me I'm a caveman."

I'm laughing through tears, so hard I can't breathe. When I recover, I resume inspection of the luscious, shiny curls. "I'm totally dating a metrosexual."

"And don't you forget it," he quips. "Caveman. Shut your mouth."

"Shut my mouth? You won't like that."

An eyebrow rises. "You know what? You're right about that."  He leans over to kiss me again. I tighten my arms around his neck and gently pull so that he rolls toward me and settles his body onto mine. My legs wrap around him, our chests are pressed together, our lips and tongues are performing the same dance they've been performing since we were fifteen.

I feel him, growing longer and harder between us. My hips and back arch, pressing my core into him. God, he feels good.

JC tears his mouth from mine, ostensibly to catch his breath, as he pants into my skin. "So... are you going to this rehearsal dinner?"

"As much as I want to lay here with the patio door open and let the entire island hear you make love to me all night... I think we have to."

"Whyyyyyy?" He whines.

"Because we are the best man and the maid of honor. We're required to be there."

"Says who?" He asks, his lips burning a hot, wet trail down my neck and across my shoulder, then across my chest. He plays with the cups of my swimsuit, revealing a nipple and closing his mouth over it.

"Says..." I gasp and writhe at the sensation of his tongue rasping across sensitive buds. "Etiquette. Besides, if we don't show up, what will everyone think?'

"That we're in your room fucking, I hope." He moves to the other cup, pulls down the thin fabric and gives attention to the other nipple.

"Pretty sure they're hoping for that."

"Dreams come true," he says, sitting up. "Here, take this off."

I unsnap the top to my swimsuit and pull it off, then shimmy out of the bottom and toss them both over the side of the bed. JC follows suit and pulls off his golf shorts and shirt and gets rid of them in the same manner.

I've seen JC naked every day for past five days, but I still can't get used to it. The difference in his body from 17 to 35 is night and day. He's not thin and spindly with young, wiry hair sprouting everywhere. He's mature and manly, muscular with thick patches of hair that show evidence of years of training to grow in one direction, then another. Sculpted. Man-scaped. I would laugh, but I find him so goddamn sexy right now.

I pat the bed, encouraging him to lay down close to me. As he does, I reach out for him and do my favorite thing, run my fingers through the hair on his chest. He seems to enjoy it, as he lets me do it for a few minutes before his hands start to explore my version of sculpting.

"Do you have any idea how good it feels to touch you?"

I smile and let my fingers crawl south and grip him. He's warm and hard but so smooth and soft. I admire the mere strength I'm holding in the palm of my hand. Slowly, I begin to stroke him from base to tip and back down, squeezing and pulling and slightly twisting. His eyes flutter closed, his hips pulse in rhythm and he groans.

"I have some idea. Yeah."

"You know what you can do with that, right?"

"Again... I have some ideas."

He chuckles, then sits up a little, swatting my hand away. "Get away from there. You're just teasing me. This is what I want."

An entire day of anticipating this moment, coupled with the past few minutes of teasing and foreplay has left me slick and warm. I want him. I'm ready for him. If his long, loud exhale is any indication, he's had the same day I've had.

His body moves like a well oiled machine, thrusting and pushing, giving and receiving. This is all I've wanted all day and I heave a giant sigh of relief to finally have it.

What I'd thought was going to be a hard, quick, loud pounding turned slow and sensuous. Gentle lovemaking, not raucous, crazy fucking. I can handle the latter. The former, while it's so nice to be close to JC, scares me.

Because I know these are the moments he gets emotional and personal and talks about his feelings. These are the moments he is vulnerable and shows me the real him-my sweet JC, the man I've known my whole life.

These are the moments that will make me fall in love with him.

Hours later we are headed to the elevator, on the way to the Rehearsal Dinner. I'm wearing a strapless, deep pink sundress and sandals. JC is wearing khaki shorts and a short sleeved shirt, no socks and slip-on shoes. He looks casual, seems relaxed and happy when I glance over at him, waiting for the elevator to arrive.

"What? I have something on my face?"

"Yep," I say. "A smile."

"Your fault." He gestures to me to step into the elevator first, after the doors open. We get in and the doors close. He presses L for lobby. "I just want you to know something," he says.

I know exactly what he's going to say, but I ask anyway. "What?"

He reaches out, presses the stop button on the elevator and waits until it grinds to a halt. A low beep comes from the instrument panel on the wall.

JC turns to me, grips my waist in his hands and walks us backward toward the wall, then pushes himself right up against me. Head to knees, we are pressed together, not a speck of daylight between us. His mouth drops to mine and he devours my lips, my mouth, my tongue, groaning and grunting and squeezing me in his hands. I'm a pool, melted feelings and emotions and wants. I do not want to go to this dinner. I want to go back upstairs and make myself say the words.

"I love you," he says, his piercing blue eyes holding me hostage. I can just barely hear him over the steadily rising volume of the beeps coming from the elevator. "I always have. And I want you to love me. Whatever I have to do to make that happen, I will. I will hear you say you love me. Understood?"

I have no words. No breath. No thoughts. He's gone from deeply sensual to passionate and loving to brusque and commanding. My mind is a blur. I'm lost in everything I'm feeling right now. All I can do is nod, and say, "uh huh."

He steps back, pushes the ‘Start' button on the elevator. The beeping stops and the cube shakes to life and begins its descent again. I wipe the mess he's made of my lip gloss off of my face.

JC faces front, his face a mask covering any emotion he might have displayed mere seconds ago. He slides his hands into his pockets and says, "Let's not stay long at this thing. Dinner, a toast. You leave first; I'll follow in about ten minutes. We have unfinished business."

I nod, almost shaking with renewed anticipation.

He will hear me say I love him. He's working hard at making sure it happens soon.