Justin's POV

 

Lucky me.

 

Lucky...

 

Is that what I am?

 

Is that what my life has become?  A game of luck, a game of chance, being at the right place at the right time?  A chain reaction of the ‘right' steps that have all boiled down to one thing?

 

Luck.

 

I'd like to think not...I'd like to think that I've made decisions in my life, for my career, that have all been based off of fact and truth.  I'd like to think that the success that I have achieved has been built off of something larger than chance.  That the sacrifices away from home, from family, of my privacy have been for something greater than a shuffle of the cards.  The hard work and dedication, the years of my life that I have invested in promotions, touring, and singing have all been for something bigger than a roll of the dice.  I'd like to think all of this is truth...that everything has been worth it...

 

But I'm not so sure anymore...

 

I don't know if it was ever really worth it.  I don't know if the constant scrutiny, the incessant questions, and the camera flashes that follow every step I take are worth the ability to continue doing what I'm doing.  I've spent almost my entire life behind a camera, opened wide for the world to take a look inside, to get to know ‘me' without really understanding the man behind the persona.  My life has become a character...a façade for the real me to hide behind, to maintain some kind of self-perseverance.  No one has had the chance to really know me anymore...they know JT...but they don't know Justin.  In truth, I've never allowed anyone to know ‘me' anymore.  The protective guards have been up around me for so long, pushing away anyone that gets too close, that I feel like I have started to lose touch with myself even.

 

Lucky me, right?

 

I have everything I could ever dream of at my fingertips and I'd give it all up in a heartbeat to just spend time being normal.  To walk to my car without twenty different guys blocking my path...to go to the grocery store without needing to take security...to go out on a date with a woman, knowing her name won't be slandered and drug through every single magazine before the sun even comes up the next morning.  To have a relationship that isn't built off of using the other to further a career, that isn't constantly being questioned in terms of fidelity, to look at that person and know there's no where in the world I'd rather be and have those same feelings returned without any other hidden agenda.

 

I've sacrificed myself in the attempt to achieve the unimaginable...and now...I don't know if it was ever really worth it.

 

Lucky me?

 

I've lost touch with myself, everything inside, everything that I ever thought I could be.  I don't know who I am...what I stand for...what really makes me happy...or what I want to do with my life.  I can continue on this path of recording, producing, and writing songs, continue with the million dollar endorsement deals and sit back and watch it all trickle in...

 

But I don't want to anymore.  I'm tired of standing on the side lines, losing myself with each dotted line that I sign on.  Each flick of my wrist and swipe of the pen sends another piece of my soul into the corporate world of kissing ass and smiling while doing it. 

 

Done.  That's what I am...I'm done.

 

I am done with it all.  I am packing everything up...taking a vacation...enjoying some time to myself.  I don't want to answer any questions, no more interviews or appearances or promotions.  I don't care if someone wants to work with me, do a collaboration, or use me as a producer.  None if it matters anymore.  It really doesn't...

 

I have sold my soul for the things that don't matter in life.

 

And it's finally time to take it back. 

 

 

(1 Week Later)

 

Justin's POV

 

After spending hours driving, I've finally arrived at the Chateau that will be my home for next couple of months.  I am completely tucked away, hidden into the depths of the sprawling mountains, abundant, lush pine trees, and inches upon inches of bright white snow.  It's a sanctuary, a place of peace where I can just remember what it's like to be normal.  I have found my own little piece of remembrance in the city of Breckenridge, Colorado. 

 

Sighing as I pull the car to a halt in the garage, I step out, feeling the brisk air wrap my body up in its clutches almost instantly.  Reaching for a couple of my bags, I throw them over my shoulder and head inside.  The cabin is decked from head to toe with dark cherry wood, large rock fireplaces, and several plush rugs designed to zap any hint of a chill that threatens to overtake the warmth of the inside.  Taking a deep breath, I let it settle in my chest, finally feeling the tightness that has been a permanent friend for years slide away.  I am finally alone, without the pressure to be anything other than myself.

 

Walking further inside, I head down the hallway towards the master bedroom and place my bags inside.  The large sleigh bed and large, white comforter calls towards my aching body and the fatigue of the months of holding up some type of façade slides away.

 

It's finally happened...

 

I have found a place where I can remember who I am and what it is I want from life.

 

A small smile tugs at the corner of my lips and I stifle the laugh that is brewing in my throat.  Turning off the light, I walk back towards the main room, exploring my new home and its comforts.  The stainless steel appliances littering the giant kitchen, the fireplaces conveniently located throughout each room and the giant one in the living room to the side of the leather couch.  As I come to stand in front of the huge bay window, my eyes immediately land on the mountain in front of me and the bright lights that shimmy up into the sky.  Their soft hues illuminate the clouds above and mark the place I plan to spend my days and nights for the next couple of months.  I want nothing more than to drown myself in the fresh powder, learning the highs and lows of the hills, and breathing in the fresh mountain air for hours, days, and weeks on end.

 

Checking my watch, I realize it's not too late to go enjoy a couple of night time runs.  Hustling back into the bedroom, I unzip one of my larger suitcases, reaching for my gear and throwing together a bag for the hill.  After sliding on some warmer gear, my shells, jacket, hat and goggles, I slip on some tennis shoes and head back outside towards the car.  My snowboard is already firmly in its bag in the backseat and I peel out of my sanctuary and up towards the ski hill.  

 

The slopes are merely five minutes from the chateau and I throw the car into a parking spot before unloading my board and bag.  Tossing one over my shoulder and the other under my arm, I head inside to get a lift ticket and finish dressing for the nighttime cold. 

 

"Hi," I say to the gentlemen working behind the table and slide my season pass towards him.

 

His eyes slightly bulge at the name and I try to implore with my eyes the need for secrecy and privacy.  Almost as quickly as his reaction appears, he wipes it from his face and meets my gaze head on.  "Evening, Mr. Timberlake.  We're very pleased to be your choice for a resort throughout this season.  How is your stay so far?"

 

I smile at him, feeling the relief at his politeness and discretion.  "So far so good.  Thank you."

 

Printing a pass and a wicket, he hands everything back to me.  "The hills are open till ten tonight.  Please let us know if there is anything we can do to make your stay anymore enjoyable."

 

"Thank you again.  I will definitely do that," I answer while snapping it onto my jacket and grabbing my gloves. 

 

"Just so you're aware as well, Mr. Timberlake, you will encompass several national races throughout the resort.  We have mapped out which days these events will take place.  With the Olympics right around the corner, we host many competitions for the qualifying skiers and snowboarders."

 

That is clearly something I missed in the packet.  Hmm...it should be interesting to be able to watch some of these races. 

 

"Really?" I ask, my eyes a little wide.

 

"Yes, in fact, several of the US skiers have also rented out the chateaus while they continue to train for the World Cup."

 

"Interesting," I answer, slapping my gloves against my leg and turning back towards the exit.  "Thank you again..."

 

"You're welcome, sir.  Enjoy the hills."

 

I nod my farewell before heading outside into the cold, crisp night air.  It's the first time in years that I have spent any time by myself, without the threat of a paparazzi attack or security surrounding my every move.  The fake story about me being holed up in Memphis for the winter has worked, drawing the cameras there and allowing me to leave LA undetected.  The entire goal of this charade is to spend time away from the spotlight and it's looking like I am going to get to do just that.

 

As I grab my board that I laid on the racks, I snap a boot into the bindings before pushing and riding it towards the chair lift.  Sliding my black and silver goggles over my face, I glide into the path of the oncoming chair. 

 

"Enjoy the hills...I hear they're extra smooth and fast tonight," the main working the lift says as he reaches to slow the chair and allow me to sit down.

 

"Just the way I like it..." I answer back before I am lifted from the ground, up the hill and into the night sky.

 

This is exactly what I need...

Justin's POV

 

I have spent the morning just lounging in a pair of cotton pajama pants, a t-shirt, and a sweatshirt, just enjoying the lazy start to my day.  Without any demands or constant pull in one direction, I haven't had a reason to do anything for anyone else but myself...and I've never felt better. 

 

The sun's rays have peaked up over the horizon, basking the valley in its glow and setting off an array of colors as it reflects off the snow.  Amazingly enough, another couple of inches fell throughout the night, blanketing the already snow covered ground in a fresh layer of powder.  Exactly the kind of snow that makes for great snowboarding.  After putting my coffee cup in the sink, I wash my hands before taking off into the bedroom, grabbing my bag from the other night and changing into another layer of warm clothes.

 

It's nearly noon, which gives me almost the entire day to spend on the slopes.  I plan to enjoy the quiet, comfortable ease of the mountain, taking in the view and just getting lost in the easy back-and-forth of the hill.  I have never been a real nature-guy, sure I can camp with the best of them, but holing myself up in the mountains for months at a time, just to spend out on the slopes, it hasn't ever crossed my mind before.

 

That was all up until her...

 

Up until the backlash of another failed relationship on my part...another cheating scandal...another public outcry into my personal life.

 

Shaking the thoughts that are bound to give me a headache and another painful rip through my gut of being worked over by another female, I zip up my bag and hoist it over my shoulder.

 

Just me, the mountain and the snow...that's all I need...

 

Nothing and no one else...

 

The quiet purr to my engine is the only sound the infiltrates my brain as I back out of the house and drive to the mountain.  Letting go of the poisonous thoughts that threatened to overtake me, I take a deep breathe, the soothing, crisp air filling my senses and cleansing my mind.  As I pull the car into a parking spot, I unload all of my bags and board, glancing up at the mountain and a small smile plays at the corner of my lips.  Although it is considerably busier than last night, it's not enough to make me turn around or rid myself from this sanctuary.  Besides, no one will possibly believe that I am amongst everyone without an ounce of security or entourage. 

 

It's exactly what I need.

 

After getting everything settled, I clip the new pass onto my jacket, next to the dangling one from the night before.  Zipping up my coat, I slide the face mask up my neck and over my mouth, if I'm going to spend the entire day out here, I'm going to be warm doing it.  I throw on my goggles and my gloves as I reach for my board, strapping one of my feet into the binding and pushing off with the other.  Sliding into the line, amongst the people, completely undetected, just another boarder out enjoying the fresh powder, is liberating. 

 

Another final push forward and I grab a seat on one of the lifts to the top of the hill.  As the chairlift begins its slow and measured ascent to the top, I take in the vast beauty of the sprawling hills before me.  There are hundreds of open runs to chose from, everything to my right, my left, and even in the back of the mountain.  I could spend an entire day out here and possibly still have more hills to hit the next day.

 

The ride to the top passes quickly and I prepare to deboard.  Gliding down the ramp, I give a couple of more pushes against the ground before stopping at the top.  Sitting down on the snow, I bend my knees and secure my other foot into the binding before standing back up again and taking off down the mountain.  The cold wind, the constant sound of my board gliding across the snow...left-to-right...back-and-forth...it all becomes one solid loop on repeat in my head.  I pass a few skiers on the way down and I can't help the smile that so easily takes over my face.

 

Skidding to a stop at the bottom, I take another deep breath, the feeling of freedom dancing across my face.  Unclasping one of my boots, I push of towards another chair lift, taking me further up the mountain this time.  Thankfully, I packed my iPod before I took off this morning; it'll come in handy later when I've had my fair share of the constant chatter of other skiers and boarders around me.  As I wait in line for the chair lift, I notice the line of people stacking up behind me.  Apparently this is a popular lift.

 

As I push off from the wooden post towards the loading area, another lone skier slides in next to me, not saying a word as we sit down on the awaiting chair.  The up and down bounce to the lift shakes me in my seat and I wiggle to get comfortable next to this virtual stranger.

 

"Sorry about just sneaking on this chair with you... I figured with the line, we should probably double up to keep it moving before the staff gets irritated," the smooth, femine voice says beside me.

 

I glance over at her, catching the red Rossignol skis, white racing shells, and red and white, checkered jacket.  Her blonde curls are peaking out through her hat and jacket, and her goggles are blocking her stunning blue eyes. 

 

Clearing my mind and throat, I turn my face towards her.  "It's not a problem at all.  I understand."

 

"Good," she says before facing forward again.  Gently, she swings her left ski, letting a rhythm that's playing in her head guide her movements.  "So, what brings you out here?"

 

"Isn't it obvious?" I ask, feeling a smile tug at my lips.

 

"I suppose.  But not many boarders come out by themselves.  You enjoying the slopes?" she asks, turning her head back towards me.

 

Just as I begin to answer, she lifts her goggles away from her face, securing them on her forehead over her hat.  As I take in her face, it suddenly hits me who this person is sitting next to me.  "You're Taylor Jordan..." I blurt out and mentally chastise myself for sounding like such an idiot.  I hate it when that's the first thing out of people's mouths when they meet me...  "I'm sorry, that's so rude of me," I begin but she's quick to cut me off.

 

"Not many people recognize me out here..." she answers, turning her face back towards the mountain.  Her eyes are watching the skiers below, and suddenly a grinding halt to the chair lift stops us about halfway up the mountain.

 

"I'm sorry to just throw that out there...really, that was incredibly rude."

 

She laughs, her eyes meeting me head on as she looks at me.  "You know, I could say the same thing back to you."

 

"I'm not Taylor Jordan..." I answer jokingly, knowing where she's going with it.

 

"No, but you're Justin Timberlake."

 

I nod my head in acknowledgement, not really caring that I have been spotted after the idiotic impression I just gave her.  "That obvious?"

 

"Not really.  I suppose if you got on the chairlift with someone and you're forced to be in a confined space of about five feet, they're going to catch on sooner or later.  But with the goggles, neck-gator, and hat...it's kind of difficult actually."

 

I nod my head at her response.  "Well then, unless I'm riding with you, I'll remember to go solo up the lifts."  Am I flirting with her?  Please, someone stop me.

 

"You'll have to do just that," she answers just as the chairlift begins to move again.  "So, what brings you out here, Justin?"

 

"I just needed a break, wanted to get some boarding in.  I haven't been out on the hills for longer than a couple days in years.  So, I thought I would come, stay for a while, and get my fix in."

 

She laughs lightly.  "It can be addicting."

 

"What about you?" I ask, needing to change the subject of the reason behind my visit.

 

"Actually, today, I am just out here for my own enjoyment.  I don't get to do that very often."

 

"I figured if you got some time off, the last place you'd want to be is out here."

 

"That's a huge misconception.  If I didn't love skiing, and racing for that matter, I wouldn't be doing it."

 

As soon as the words leave her mouth, it makes me wonder about myself...my own career choice.  Do I not love what I do, if I'm out here running around, avoiding my actual life back in LA?

 

"Doesn't mean I don't need a break now and then...but if I can get out here without my coaches, gates, and time clocks, it helps me remember why I got into racing to begin with," she clarifies.

 

Suddenly, the top of the mountain comes into view and part of me is a little sad to see this ride come to an end.  As much as I just want to be out here on my own, I've enjoyed having someone around just to talk to.

 

"When's your next race?" I ask.

 

"In three days, it's the pre-lims," she answers automatically.

 

"You don't sound excited..."

 

"It's not that, it's just I'm expected to win, and that pressure can sometimes be a little daunting."

 

As our chair is the next to deboard, I pop my board up under my heels as she lifts the tips of her skis.  "Surprisingly, Taylor, I know exactly what you mean."

 

Quickly, she flashes me a dazzling smile before we stand and slide down the small incline.  Smoothly, she grinds to a halt at the top and I stop, reaching down to fasten my foot into the board, balancing precariously so that I don't fall flat on my ass too.  I've embarrassed myself enough around her for one day.

 

"Justin, it was a pleasure talking to you.  Have fun on the slopes today, maybe I will catch you around again," she offers, tilting her head towards me.

 

"That sounds good, thanks for the company.  Oh, and if I don't see you before your race...good luck."

 

"Thanks," she says before smiling and taking off down the hill.  Hopping forward, I watch as she easily coasts along the powder, turning and cutting easily into the hill.  It's clear that she's a damn professional just in the way she turns, not to mention the speed at which she goes down. 

 

Sighing, I hop and flip my board so that it's facing down hill before leaning forward and letting it take me the rest of the way down.  I don't regret being spotted in the least, despite it was the one thing I was hoping to avoid while being out here.  I know Taylor's not the type to blast my business around; she knows what it's like to be in the public eye anyways.  No, the smile currently plastered on my face is for just being able to interact with another person without the pretenses or awkwardness of my status in an all consuming, entertainment industry.  To her, I was just another boarder and she another skier.  It's the first interaction in years that I've had at face value...and I needed it.

 

The rest of my day seems to fly by in a mix of snow and ice, and the occasional blast of wind that whips through the trees.  Despite my best efforts to spot the red and white, checker printed jacket, I never did cross paths with Taylor again.  I realize that it's kind of crazy to be seeking out someone that I shared a chairlift ride with, but I just really enjoyed her company...I never really thought about the fact that the next couple of months could get a little lonely. 

 

As the sun descends into the horizon and the lights on the hill flicker to life, I realize that I have spent almost seven hours on the slopes, just going about my business without any interruption from the outside world.   

 

Debating whether or not to continue boarding until the hill closes, I stop at one of the chalets, hooking my board into one of the racks and heading inside to warm up.  Grabbing a table in the corner, I remove my goggles and mittens but leave my hat secured to my head, covering my curls.  Sitting down, I reach into my pocket, turning my phone on, I check my messages.  A few from my mom and a couple of text messages from Trace, letting me know that all is still clear on the home front. 

 

"I didn't think you'd still be out," the familiar voice breaks through my perusal of my phone and my head snaps up to see Taylor standing a few feet away from me.  Her US ski team bag is secured over her shoulder, the normally bulky attire of the slopes removed as she stands in just her shells and jacket.

 

"Yeah, well, I don't have anything better to do," I mock, a smile on my lips.  "What about you?  Taking off for the night?"

 

"Yeah, I have training tomorrow morning.  So, I think I've had enough for the day."

 

I nod my head in understanding.  "I'm debating whether or not to stay out.  I'm thinking I should probably call it a night, after all, I'll probably be back tomorrow anyways."

 

She laughs, readjusting the strap of her bag.  "So, you're really out here by yourself?"

 

"All by my lonesome," I answer, standing to collect my things and bag from the racks next to the tables.

 

"Hmm..." she says, a slight forlorn look marring her features.  "Well, maybe we can hit the slopes together one day...after the pre-lims or something.  If you want to?"

 

I smile wildly at her suggestion.  "Yeah, definitely, sounds like fun."

 

As I begin to follow her outside of the chalet, we stop to pick up my board and head towards the parking lot.  "Maybe I will catch you tomorrow?" I ask, throwing the question out there.

 

She quirks a smile in my direction.  "Possibly.  You'll catch me on the racing course at least.  It's not going to be all fun tomorrow, that's for sure."

 

"I'm sorry..." I amend, not really sure how to address the topic of training for the World Cup.

 

She waves off my apology quickly.  "It'll be good for me.  I need a little kick in the right direction; it helps me focus before the race." 

 

Stopping at my car, I re-arrange my bag and board before turning to face her.  Extending my hand to her, I say, "It was a pleasure meeting you, Taylor."

 

Gently, she slides her much smaller hand into my own, giving it a shake.  "You too, Justin.  I'll see you around and we'll figure out a time to meet up and hit the hills."

 

I nod my head and smile as she turns to walk further down the lot to her own car.  "Night, Taylor."

 

As she spins around, her long blonde curls bounce down her back in gentle waves.  "Night, Justin," she calls out before disappearing in a sea of cars.

 

Smiling to myself, I load the car up with my things and hop inside.  Letting the engine run and the interior heat up, I replay this turn of events.  I came out here with no intention of meeting anyone or befriending someone in the process, but there's something about Taylor that seems to draw me in.  Maybe it's the ease of her presence, her carefree aurora, or just the fact that I don't have to hide, I can be just a normal guy without the strings attached to my name.  I can just be Justin again and that's enough...

 

 

Taylor's POV

 

The early morning sun has littered its welcoming rays onto the hill, basking the fresh powder in its warmth.  Although the bitter cold wind of the day whips its way up the mountains, carrying with it a couple of small blankets of snow with it.  Reaching into my jacket pocket, I fish out my cell phone, hitting the button to illuminate the screen and check the time.  It's nearing nine-thirty in the morning and I let out a little puff of air, watching as it evaporates and blows away in a cloud.

 

"Taylor, you warmed up enough now to start timing now?" my coach asks as he comes to a stop in front of me.

 

"Yeah, definitely.  Lets head up and I'll get ready to go," I answer, snapping my head back in the right direction and re-focusing my attention on the training session.

 

We've been out on the hill for nearly an hour now, just warming my muscles up and getting a feel for the snow today.  Although I am completely decked out in my racing gear, I have my shells and jacket on to soften my sore muscles up and acclimate them for the torture I'm going to put them through for the next couple hours. 

 

I've been skiing ever since I could practically walk, and racing came just as naturally right after.  It's my life; I live and breathe for what I do.  Not to mention, I work my ass off on the slopes, to be where I am today.  I'm up with the sun every morning, running, working out, and then heading out to the hill for hours upon hours of training.  Whether it's gate work, edge-cutting, or aero-dynamics...it's a part of me...a part of my livelihood.

 

The pressure that I feel to perform well at the World Cup only intensifies my drive to win gold at the Olympics in February.  I have spent the last four years of my life completely dedicated to the ski hill.  Training and pushing my body to the extreme, crashing and burning with the best of them, and getting up the next day only to do it all over again. 

 

Sighing loudly, I disembark the chair lift and glide towards the top of the practice run that is set up for me.  It's giant slalom today.

 

Being that many of the US Ski team actually trains throughout the winter months here, a run off to the side of the main resort has been roped off, allowing the coaches to set up courses and time gates for all of us.  Thankfully, a majority of my teammates have headed up to Vail for the next couple of weeks and I decided to stay behind.

 

I guess that's not a bad thing...

 

I get the hill to myself, no interruption or waiting for someone else.

 

I can focus on what I need to do to improve my time and my race.

 

And, if I had left with them, I wouldn't have met a certain boarder yesterday.

 

No, definitely not a bad thing.

 

I can't say that I ever thought by getting on that chairlift yesterday I would be sitting and talking to Justin Timberlake, although, I will admit to it being a pleasant surprise.  He's nothing like I imagined him to be...he's funny, charming, and sweet...he's normal...just like any other boarder.  I figured with as much hype surrounding that man in his life, he'd be arrogant, pompous and completely self-centered...oh, how wrong I was.

 

I will admit that I actually am looking forward to maybe hitting the slopes with him some day.  Whether or not we are able to work it out with my racing and training schedule and his...well...I don't really know how long he's going to be here.  I would enjoy just spending the day with someone who isn't so consumed with analyzing every twist, turn, and bump in the hill.

 

"Hey, earth to Taylor!" my coach yells, standing at the gate.

 

Shaking my head from its earlier perusal of yesterday's turn of events, I ski towards him before popping my boots out of the bindings and shedding my warm gear.  Immediately, my body reacts to the temperature change from shells and a jacket to a racing suit.  Shaking my limbs, allowing the blood to travel back through them, I snap my legs back into the skis and take my place at the start gate.

 

"The other day, you were starting the turns a little low, causing your entire race to be run from behind.  I need you to work on hitting the turns high, allowing yourself enough time to set-up for the next gate."

 

I nod my head at my coach's instruction before placing my poles in the holes off to the side of the time bar. 

 

"Remember, the hills a little choppy today, I want you to push it but remember, there's a wide turn off the top into the bottom section of the hill.  Be prepared in case you catch air."

 

I nod my head.  It's customary not to answer his advice; it helps bring me into the mindset easier.

 

A slight tap on my shoulder and he takes off down the hill, off to the side of the gates.  As he stops at the turn for the rest of the course, he lifts his harm, giving me the signal to go when ready.  One last final deep breath and a mental kick in the right direction, and I kick my skis up, pushing off with my poles and tripping the time clock. 

 

My skis easily glide through the first few gates, my turns early enough that I am able to clip each gate as I go by.  Picking up speed, I fly through the top half of the course, and just as predicted, I am airborne on the turn towards the bottom.  Connecting back with the snow seconds later, I shift my weight and dig my edge into the ground with just enough force to make the turn.  The rest of the practice run finishes just as smoothly as the top half and I clock in, nearly a full second and a half faster than two days ago.

 

Catching my breath and soothing the burn in my legs, I straighten up, waiting for the critique.

 

"That was awesome, Taylor," my coach says excitedly as he comes to a stop near the bottom of the hill.  "Seriously, one of your better runs I've seen."

 

I can feel the smile taking over; it feels good to get his approval but even more so the confidence boost that it elicits has me feeling ready for the prelims. 

 

"I'd like to go through it a couple more times, just to tighten up some of the top turns but I think you're ready, Tay."

 

"Thanks, it felt good, really good," I answer honestly.

 

"Great.  Let me just go call in that time and get it on the books.  If you want to head back up, I'll meet you there," he answers before handing me my jacket.

 

"Sounds good," I answer before turning my skis, throwing my jacket on, and heading towards a semi-populated lift towards the top.

 

As I get in line, I can feel the adrenaline still coursing through my limbs, leaving me practically warm to the touch.  The high that I get from a good race is unlike anything I have ever experienced before in my life. 

 

Pushing forward with my poles, I glide into the path of the chairlift and just as I am about to sit, another passenger tucks in along side of me.  The two of us sitting down quickly before being lifted up the mountain.

 

"Funny meeting you again under these circumstances," the same masculine voice from the other day penetrates through my helmet and I turn to face him.

 

"It's quite coincidental, I'd say," I joke.

 

"You're back at it early today," he says, flipping his board so that it is resting underneath my skis.

 

"I could say the same as you," I quip back, nodding towards his snowboard.

 

He laughs lightly and shakes his head.  "Yeah, but you're the one whose training...I'm just out here, enjoying the sun and powder."

 

"Might I ask why you're on the racing side of the mountain?"

 

"Just wanted to experience all the resort has to offer..." he answers lightly.

 

I try to fight the smile that is tugging at my lips, but I realize it's absolutely pointless.  "Whatever you say, Justin."

 

"So, how's it going so far?" he asks, motioning with his mitten-covered hand towards my racing gear.

 

"Really good.  I just clocked in one of my fastest times.  My coach, Rob, thinks I am ready for the prelims."

 

"Well, that's good to hear.  What about you?  Do you think you're ready?" he asks, a more serious tone to his voice and I smile at his question.

 

"I think so.  I feel ready.  My skis are fast, my turns are on point, and I've raced on this hill for years, it shouldn't be anything new to me," I answer honestly before turning my body as much as I can to face him.  "I don't get nervous to race anymore...probably how you are with performing now.  It's more anxious-excited.  But the pressure to live up to these expectations around me is the part weighing on my mind now."

 

Gently, his head nods in understanding...if anyone is going to understand it; it's going to be him.  "As long as you've done everything you possibly could to get ready for it, than you just go in there knowing that what happens, happens and you'll let everything fall where it needs to."

 

"Exactly..." I say before turning to face the hill again.  "So, you're already out on the hill for the day?"

 

"I don't have anything better to do.  I think you're forgetting that it's just me out here," he says.

 

I frown at that thought.  "You don't get lonely?"

 

He shakes his head quickly.  "Not really.  I am surrounded day-in and day-out by people, recording every step I take.  I'm enjoying this.  Besides, I've met you...I'm not totally alone."

 

I stifle a laugh.  "Right."

 

As the top of the hill comes into view, I can't help but enjoy the feeling of his company.  I never thought that someone like Justin Timberlake would walk-err, board into my life the way he has.  However, he's actually fun to talk to.  There's an ease of being around him that I haven't felt with anyone in a long time.  Probably because the people that surround my life have everything to do with my racing career and it's different with Justin...it's normal.

 

"So, how long is your training session for today?" he asks, breaking me from my thoughts.

 

"Not really sure.  Probably not much longer.  It's too close to a competition to chance any kind of crash, or to wear my body down so that I'm not at optimal racing condition," I answer before we reach the top of the hill and stand up to get off the chairlift.  "What about you, sticking around?"

 

"Possibly.  I've only been here for a couple minutes.  I have to get my fix," he jokes as we ski slowly towards the top of the run.  "Maybe I will see you around, Taylor?"  The way he asks, he poses it more as a question than an actual statement.

 

"You seem to know where to find me, Justin," I answer before taking off towards the racing hill and Justin stops to strap into his board before going down a different hill, away from me and out of sight.

 

My training session lasts for a lot longer than anticipated.  In fact, it's nearing five o'clock in the evening, the darkness settling over the hill, and I'm completely exhausted.  I've spent more time analyzing my races, altering between watching video back in the chalet and actually racing the hill than I have in a long time.  Due to the fact that Rob kept me out on the slopes for much of the day, working me to the bone, we've cancelled training for tomorrow in order to let me relax and get in the mindset for the prelims.  Prelims are in two days from now and it's time to get serious for the race.  After all, with all the pressure to perform and set myself up for a good position at the World Cup in December, I can't afford to lose out on this race, simply because I wasn't prepared enough.

 

"Penny for your thoughts?"  A voice breaks into my reverie; a hand jutting out into my peripheral view with a shiny, copper penny, head's up.

 

Reaching over, I snag it from his hand and tuck it into the pocket of my jacket.  "I told you, you always seem to find me."

 

Pulling out a chair, he sits down next to me, his shell covered legs protruding out and a small smile playing at his lips.  "Actually, you're sitting in the common area of the chalet that I just happen to be walking back through after grabbing my things.  I'd say it's a complete coincidence again."

 

I laugh at his explanation and sigh.  "Right, Justin.  Whatever you say."

 

"So, you're done for the day?" he asks, nodding at my bag and my gear that I am currently tucking away.

 

"Yeah, finally.  I didn't expect for training to last the entire day.  But with prelims in two days, I should've realized what Rob would want to do."

 

"So, back at it tomorrow then?" Justin asks.

 

"Nope.  I have tomorrow off to rest up and get ready for the race.  It's hard to go straight from training into the actual race."  Zipping up my bag, I reach for the strap, preparing to hoist it over my shoulder.

 

"Here, let me," he says, grabbing my bag and throwing it on his other shoulder.  He looks ridiculous balancing the two bags, not to mention, mine is loaded down with all of my racing equipment.

 

"I can take it, Justin, really."

 

Scoffing over his shoulder at me, he leads the way out of the chalet, his head ducked down to avoid unwanted attention.  I sigh at the fact that he can't even be here without worrying about the media.

 

As we walk out into the cold, winter air of the mountain, I snuggle deeper into my jacket.  Apparently with as much time as I spent out here, I'm a little chilled to the bone.  Walking up the wooden pathways, we reach the parking lot and Justin halts his movements.

 

"Where are you at?"

 

"Just right up here.  The black Tahoe."  I point and we quickly make our way towards the car, shoving everything inside.  ‘Thanks, Justin.  You really didn't have to do that."

 

"Yes, I did.  If my mom saw me let you walk out of there carrying your own things, she'd have my head on a platter."

 

I laugh heartily and smile at the thought.  Reaching up, I tug my hat lower around my blonde hair, hoping to keep the chill away a little longer.  "Well you'll have to tell her thanks for me."

 

"I can do that," he answers, shifting his falling bag back up onto his shoulder.  "Listen, I'm not sure if you want to, or if you're allowed to with your race and all coming up...but did you maybe want to get some dinner?"

 

I can feel the corners of my mouth rising at his suggestion; it'd actually be really nice to spend some time with someone other than my racing coaches.  "Umm...yeah, that'd be fun."

 

Justin lets out a crooked smile at my acceptance and he bows his head suddenly.

 

"But first, I have to go home, unload my car and change.  After being on the hill all day, I could use a shower.  How about meet you in an hour?" I ask, turning my keys over in my palms.

 

"Yeah, definitely," he answers right away and then suddenly pipes back in, "Wait, I don't know where anything is around here."

 

I laugh, remembering that he's technically a tourist.  "How about I pick you up and we'll figure it out?"

 

"Are you just trying to find out where I live, Taylor?" he quips back, an amused expression on his face.

 

"You asked me out, remember that, Justin," I amend and he lets out a hearty laugh and his eyes shimmer.  "So, where are you staying?"

 

Turning over his shoulder, he points in the direction of one of the most prestigious and luxurious cabin estates that are tucked into the mountainside.  I blanch at the amount that place is costing to rent out.  "I'm using one of the cabins up-"

 

I cut him off, knowing exactly the area he's in.  "I know where you are actually.  Wow, I bet that place is gorgeous."

 

He smiles.  "It's definitely a nice retreat from life in LA."

 

"I bet.  Well, Justin, let me run home and get ready and I'll swing back through in about an hour."

 

"Sounds good," he answers, turning to walk towards his vehicle but stops suddenly, turning back towards me.  "What's your number, Taylor?"

 

"Now who's looking for info," I joke before spurting the numbers out as he enters them into his phone. 

 

"I'll call you in a bit and give you directions.  See you soon," Justin says before giving me a smile and turning around.

 

"See ya, Justin."

 

 

Chapter 4

 

Taylor's POV

 

I admit...there's not a lot that gets me nervous anymore, certainly not when it comes to skiing and racing for that matter.  I've been so engrossed in the sport for so many years that it's almost like breathing now.  Although, being in the Olympics in a couple months certainly ups the ante.  So, if I can compete in national and world renowned competitions, why in the hell am I nervous to have dinner with Justin?

 

As I pull my Tahoe into the upscale, luxurious development that should be home to Justin for the next couple of months, I hear the familiar buzz of my cell phone on the center console.  Grabbing the contraption, I smile when I realize it's probably Justin, giving me the directions to his cabin.

 

"Hello?" I answer.

 

"Hey, Taylor, it's Justin."

 

"What's up?" I ask, stopping at a stop sign quick before continuing up the mountain.

 

"You ready to head out?" he asks, a slightly breathy tone to his voice.

 

"I'm already on my way and into the addition.  Just need to know where I'm going from here though."

 

He laughs lightly before continuing, "I'm the last one up on the right, number twenty-one."

 

"I know where that is...I'll be there in five," I tell him before rounding the last corner to start my ascent up the side of the mountain and towards the cabins.

 

"Sounds good, see you soon, Taylor."

 

The resounding click in my ear brings me back to the present and I take a deep breathe.  The slight butterflies in my stomach startle me, there's absolutely no reason to be nervous...especially not for something as simple as dinner.  I chalk it up to the fact that we hardly know each other, yeah a couple of chairlift rides has broken the awkwardness, but we're still basically strangers going out together. 

 

Before I can get too lost in my thoughts, I spot the final cabin up on the right, away from anyone else and the outside light on.  As I pull into the driveway, the front door opens, and Justin casually strolls outside clad in a pair of jeans and a winter jacket.  His curls are tucked away under a beanie, protecting his ears from the bitter cold wind.  Hitting the locks, I brace myself for my night out with a virtual stranger...a good-looking stranger at that though.

 

"Hey..." he says as he opens the door and slides into the passenger side.

 

"Hey to yourself," I answer before putting the car in reverse and backing out of his driveway.  Flipping the controls on the radio, I throw it on a channel, allowing the background music to fill the silence in my car.

 

"Thanks for coming out tonight, I was starting to go a little stir crazy inside."

 

Smiling at his need to qualify his reasoning behind dinner, I glance in his direction.  "Same here.   I've been holed up in my house for a couple weeks now since a lot of my teammates went to Vail for training."

 

"How come you didn't follow suit?" he asks casually and I can feel the butterflies start to ease away.

 

"Normally before races I try to spend time just me and my coach.  It helps bring my focus back in and it's easier to get that one-on-one attention to polish off any last minute trouble spots."

 

"You...have trouble on the hill?" he asks incredulously.  "You're the number one ranked woman's skier in the US.  I highly doubt you have trouble."

 

I blush slightly at his compliment and attention to my career.  "I absolutely still have trouble.  Yeah, I work hard at it but there's still times that I catch an edge or I'm racing from the back of my skis causing me to be behind in my turns, even missing a gate.  These things happen..." I tell him before turning away from his addition and into the town close-by.

 

"I'd love to see an actual race...I've never been to one," he says, his eyes glancing in the direction of the illuminated hill just above us.  The ski slopes are still alive and buzzing with fellow bums like ourselves.

 

"For as much time as you board, you've never gone to one?"

 

He laughs softly.  "I don't normally have the luxury of time off."

 

The burn of embarrassment slides up my neck, engulfing my cheeks in its wake.  Of course...he's a world-renowned superstar that is practically chased from the second he walks outside of his door until he steps back inside.  Clearly my head wasn't thinking on that one.

 

"Sorry...I kind of forgot that you're busy."

 

"Don't be.  It's nice to just be looked at as a boarder."

 

I laugh at his comment.  "Boarders are bums, ya know that right?" I joke. 

 

His eyes are wide at my bash against his sport.

 

"They spend more time trying to build jumps than actually enjoying the-"

 

Quickly, he cuts me off.  "Is that what you think of me?  Oh please, Taylor, skiers think they have the almighty right-of-way on the hill."

 

Snapping my head in his direction, I can't stop the smile on my face.  "Show me that you can keep up and not worry about hitting the jumps, and I'll take back my previous statement."

 

A playful smile crosses his lips.  "I can definitely keep up.  I'll take you boarding one day...you'll have a new found appreciation for the sport."

 

Just as he finishes that comment, I pull into the parking lot of a local pizzeria.  Nothing fancy, nothing too grungy either...just a quiet diner on the outskirts of town.  "We're here," I tell him, ending our playful banter.

 

Suddenly, Justin heads snaps towards the direction of the building and he smiles before reaching for the handle and getting outside.  As I walk towards the front of the car, he's waiting patiently for me, his eyes alit with amusement. 

 

"Pizza?" he asks.

 

"You have a problem with Pizza, Timberlake?" I joke before picking up the pace towards the entrance.

 

"Not at all, Jordan, not at all."

 

 

Justin's POV

 

As we walk into the quant, little pizzeria, my nose is immediately assaulted with the scent of peppers, and I smile a little more, knowing that this will be my first meal out since I arrived.  I really have no expectation of how the night will turn out, but I know that with Taylor around, it's bound to be interesting.  She keeps me on my toes, treating me as if I am just the same as any other friend.  There's no hidden agenda behind her words or motives...she's normal.  She gives me that sense of normalcy by just being herself and it's something that I haven't felt in years.

 

"Two please," I hear her tell the hostess; breaking me from my inner-thoughts and bringing me back to the present.

 

As we follow behind the woman, she places us in a corner booth, almost slightly secluded from the other patrons inside.  Dropping off a couple of waters, she leaves us to the menu before disappearing back to the front.

 

"So..." Taylor asks awkwardly, shuffling her fingers amongst each other in a nervous habit.

 

I smirk at her; it's endearing to have this kind of interaction with someone that puts me at ease with each smile.  "Are you nervous, Taylor?"

 

The shuffling of her fingers almost instantly stops and her eyes widen a bit.  "No, I'm not."

 

"Good," I tell her before picking up my menu.  "I wouldn't want to make you uncomfortable."

 

"No way...uncomfortable is you finding me twice on the hill today...especially on the racing side..." she says jokingly, a hint of a wickedness in her eyes.

 

"I already explained that, Taylor."  I divert my eyes to the menu in attempt to downplay her whole statement.  "It was a coincidence."

 

"Uh huh...right..."

 

I smile at her brush-off and go back to looking at the menu.  "So, what's good here?"

 

Switching the menu from her left to her right hand, she pops it open, scans it quickly before setting it back down.  "I'm a pretty plain girl when it comes to food..."

 

"You already know what you're getting?"

 

"Yeah, same thing I always get.  Just a woodfire pizza."

 

"What toppings?"

 

"Pepperoni," she answers quickly, smiling sheepishly.

 

"That's it?" I ask, setting my menu down too.

 

"I told you...I'm boring."

 

I laugh at her deprecation of her self.  "You're hardly boring.  How about we share one?  Pepperoni pizza sounds pretty good..."

 

Nodding her head at my suggestion, I gather our menus and set them to the side just as the waitress appears ready to take our order.  Quickly, Taylor spouts off the information and the waitress leaves us alone again, returning only to set some silverware and plates on the table.

 

"So, how long are you up here in Breckenridge for?" she asks, reaching for her glass of water and taking a sip.

 

"A while actually..." I answer, remembering the circumstances that brought me here in the first place.  Trying to push those thoughts from my head, I take a deep breath.  "I don't really have a set time frame in place.  Probably till the end of January or so."

 

"Wow, must be nice to have the whole winter to just kind of relax."

 

"I'm sure you enjoy the summer months relaxing too..." I tell her, a hint of teasing to my words.

 

"I suppose you're right.  Although, I only get a couple weeks off to have a kind of vacation.  When it's summer here, I'm spending hours in the gym, getting in shape for race season."

 

The amount of dedication and work ethic that Taylor throws into her career is extremely attractive.  There's something about a woman that is able to hold her own...and she does way more than that, after all she's favored to take gold in Vancouver.  She's spent years pouring everything into her sport and her success only exemplifies that.

 

"You ever wish you didn't choose this life?" I ask her.

 

"I could ask the same of you," she answers.  "But no, I definitely don't regret my decision.  It's all I've ever known."

 

Shifting in my seat, I smile at her.  "That's how performing is for me.  It's my life.  Yeah, it has its moments where I want to run away, kind of like right now, but it's still my passion."

 

"Why'd you run this time?" she asks and I feel my body tense at her question.  Obviously she picks up on my demeanor change.  "I'm sorry; it's none of my business," she quickly admonishes her previous question.

 

"No, it's ok.  You really haven't heard of my latest scandal that's ripping up the tabloids?"

 

"I can't say that I follow them...I've been a little busy," she says, a hint of playfulness in her voice and easing me back into the conversation.  She's merely asking like any other friend...she's not fishing for information to report.

 

"I'm sorry, that was rude of me.  You're preparing for the Olympic Games, and I'm wondering if you've caught the latest cover of US Weekly."

 

"Don't worry about it, Justin.  I shouldn't have asked anyways."

 

"It's fine, Taylor, really," I tell her, taking a deep breath before explaining my latest scandal.  "I'm up here after another relationship of mine went sour...and fast."

 

"I'm sorry," she apologizes, her eyes downcast at my admission.

 

"It's not your fault...you didn't cause the break-up."

 

Glancing back up, her eyes meet mine and she smiles timidly at me.  "No, but still...it sucks to go through a break-up as is... I couldn't imagine having to do it in front of the world."

 

I shrug my shoulders, trying to ease the pain of my latest heartache and the way I got worked over again by another girlfriend.  "It is what it is."

 

Just as Taylor begins to say something, the waitress brings the pizza out, setting it on the table on a spinner.  After ensuring that we have everything we need, she turns on her heels and disappears towards the front again. 

 

Unhurriedly, Taylor reaches for the pizza server, dishing out a piece and placing it on her plate.  I follow suit, and enjoy the easy nature to our dinner.  There's this calm that has blanketed us in the restaurant, letting us sit back with one another on an even playing field.  There's no baggage from my career or hers, we're merely two friends having a good time together.  It's been so long, I've forgotten what it feels like, and now that I've reclaimed it, I'm not willing to let it get away so easy.

 

Downing a piece of pizza quickly, I turn my head up towards Taylor, wiping away any excess pizza from my face onto the napkin.  "You weren't kidding...this is really good."

 

"The best," she says, cutting another slice and putting it on her plate.

 

"So...with the prelims coming up, is it going to be crazy at the hill?"

 

Nodding her head, there's a hint of a frown on her lips.  "Yeah, definitely.  The press will be there, hundreds of skiers from all over the US, tons of sponsors."

 

 A groan escapes my lips at the thought of my sanctuary being threatened.

 

"I would suggest enjoying the next couple of days in the privacy of your cabin, if you want to continue your solitude up here."

 

I realize that she's probably right.  The last thing I need to do is to go walking around, completely unprotected and without any kind of back-up if things were to get out regarding my whereabouts.  "You're probably right."

 

"Although," she begins, a gleam in her blue eyes, "this would give you an opportunity to catch a national race, if you're interested.  But I wouldn't want you risking anything just for the prelims."

 

"They're not important?" I question.

 

"Oh they are," she clarifies.  "Very important...but the World Cup decides the final rankings going into the Olympics.  That's the most important race..."

 

Suddenly, the waitress returns, asking if there's anything else we need.  We politely decline and she slips the bill on the table, leaving us to finish our meal.  Before Taylor can get her hands on it, I slide the bill my way and she instantly gives me a disapproving glance. 

 

"Don't worry about it, I was the one who asked you out tonight," I answer her gaze before throwing some cash in the billfold and sliding it to be picked back up. 

 

"Well thank you for dinner, Justin," she says honestly.

 

"You're welcome, Taylor.  We'll have to do it again."

 

She smiles softly up at me when the words slip out of my mouth, and in that moment, the haze of the dim-light in the restaurant and her normally soft, curly hair lying straight against her face, I realize that I absolutely would like to take her out again. 

 

"You ready to go?" she asks, breaking me from the trance and pulling me back to the moment.

 

"If you are," I nod towards the little bit of pizza remaining on her plate.

 

"I'm stuffed and it's getting late.  I should probably head out and get some rest."

 

As I stand up from the booth, I outstretch my hand, reveling in the feeling of her much smaller one sliding into my grip as I help her out of the booth.  The two of us continue back out of the restaurant, my head slightly downcast as to not draw any unwanted attention before sliding into her Tahoe once again.

 

The drive back towards my cabin passes in comfortable silence, a feeling of saturation settling into the car.  I smile to no one in particular as I replay the events leading up to tonight.  I never had any intentions of my vacation starting out with the likes of an Olympic skier, or that in such a short amount of time; she would be someone that I call a friend.  But Taylor's natural, easy-going personality has a pull that sucks me in, and I haven't felt that way about someone in a long time.  Every relationship, especially romantic ones for that matter, has taken an extreme amount of work on my end.  No one has been able to fit into my lifestyle or even understand the demands that I place on myself to succeed.  But with Taylor, she puts that same amount of pressure on herself everyday that she races.  She has a goal in mind and she's running towards it, headfirst.  That level of dedication to her craft is attractive-not to mention her physical beauty as well.  It's a safe bet to say that there's a bit of a connection, at least on my end to this woman sitting beside me.

 

Suddenly, the familiar yellow glow of my outdoor light comes into view as I realize we're already back to the cabin.  Carefully, she pulls into the driveway before slipping her car into park.

 

"Thanks again for dinner, Justin, I had a good time."

 

I smile broadly at her.  "It was nothing.  I had a good time too.  Since the prelims are soon, I assume you're going to recede back into yourself to get ready?"

 

She laughs at the way I so casually addressed her focus time.  "Yeah, pretty much."

 

I nod my head, realizing it'll be a couple of days before she resurfaces again and the press quiets down from the hill.  "Well, if I don't see you before then.  Good luck, Taylor," I tell her, slowly leaning over to give her a hug. 

 

Softly, her arms wrap around my torso, bringing me a little closer to her.  Her soft hair immediately tangles into my face and I can't stop the intake of breath.  "You'll do great," I tell her as I pull away, planting a soft kiss on her cheek.

 

Sliding out of the car, I pause at the door and smile at the expression on her face.  "Drive safe," I tell her before shutting the door finally and turning to walk into my cabin, a satisfied smile on my face.

Chapter 5

Justin's POV

Normally, I really don't have an issue with being alone, in fact, I usually treasure the moments of solitude, it's a time to just contemplate everything in my life and appreciate the blessings.  I guess that's where the time in Breckenridge fit in; it is a time to just get away, to lose myself in a place where I can blend into the background.  I am just another regular boarder amongst the masses, no one special, and no one worth screaming at or hounding for the latest scandal.  It's my place of peace in a sea of unknown. 

 

That was all up until Taylor Jordan literally skied into my life.  She's a breath of fresh air in the cloudy haze of fame-hungry, attention seekers that normally wiggle their way into my life.  I am so used to being manipulated, used for my name, my fame...only to get thrown under the bus the second another opportunity presents itself.  Even though I haven't known Taylor for very long...there's just something uniquely different about her.  She doesn't expect anything from me and I don't have to give anything in return.  There's no expectation or underlying motive for her words or actions.  She's happy to just be a friend and get one in return.

 

Therefore when I see the camera crews roll into town, setting up camp in the parking lot of my ski hill, I realize just how easily my little bubble could burst around me.  After listening to Taylor's advice, I have stayed inside for almost the entire time while the hill, the press, the sponsors, and the racers get ready for the prelims.  Prelims are set to start in exactly one hour, and after sending Taylor a good luck text a little bit ago, I am surprised to receive a response.

 

Thanks for the well wishes.  Wish you could be here.

 

That simple text has me re-thinking my plans to stay holed up in my house, just waiting in purgatory for the press to leave.  I don't know why I'm even thinking about risking this all...but there's a part of me that wants to be there, to watch her in her element.  I have never been to a competition of that magnitude before, despite numerous attempts to somehow fit it in, I haven't been able to.  Yet, the need to somehow offer my support to a friend...in what could quite possibly set her up and give her the confidence for a great showing in the Olympics...it seems so trivial and selfish on my part to stay hidden away in my cabin.  The press has literally made me a prisoner in my own cabin. 

 

But I know what I am risking by going to the hill...I am threatening to expose myself and my hideaway, something that I have worked hard to ensure remains private.  However, Taylor's quickly becoming important to me and I feel like I should be there, at the very least to cheer her on.  I laugh at this need to support her in her endeavors; after all I am sure the hill will be loaded with her friends and family, not to mention her fans.  I can't imagine that it will be of importance if I am there or not. 

 

As I continue to battle the need for self-preservation and supporting a friend, I look out through the windows at the ski hill just up the other side of the mountain.  Contemplating my abilities to be stealth enough to avoid the paparazzi, I realize I've done it before but never to this extreme.  I am literally opening myself up to the excessive amount of publicity that will surely be on hand for a world wide competition.  Sighing, I feel like there's only one thing that I can do and I head back into my bedroom. 

 

Throwing on a pair of black shells, a sweatshirt, and a jacket, I reach for a beanie and a pair of sunglasses; the least I can do is try my hardest to remain inconspicuous.  After taking a quick glance at myself in the mirror, I realize that it's quite difficult to pick me out in a sea of other boarders.  Saying a little prayer for good luck, I grab my keys and head out to my car to make the short trek to the mountain.

 

Thrumming my fingers against the wheel, the sun is shining brightly, trying to fuse what little bit of warmth it can into the chilly, windy air that swirls around the mountain.  As I pull into a spot, away from the main gate, I take a deep breath.

 

God, I hope I know what I am doing.

 

Stepping outside the confines and safety of my car, I shut the door and head into the chalet from a back entry way.  Without arousing too much attention to my entrance, I make my way up to a window away from the main desk. 

 

"Good afternoon, sir," the desk worker says.

 

"Hi, I'm hoping you can help me out..." I answer quietly, almost timidly.  "I'm wondering what needs to be done to gain access to the preliminary races for the women's alpine skiing event."

 

She looks at me skeptically, running her eyes over my attire and judging why I would be questioning something that should be common knowledge to the locals.  "The race starts in twenty minutes..."

 

I let out a breath and nod my head in understanding.  "I am aware of that..."

 

She shakes her head skeptically before resigning to give me the information I set out for.  "There are shuttles that are running from here to the other side of the mountain.  It drops you off at the finish line, but that's about as far as the general public is allowed.  The area surrounding the skiers is fenced off, reserved only for press, family, and those that have purchased a ticket."

 

My eyes light up a little at that information.  "Where can I buy a ticket?"

 

Her eyes narrow a little, the suspicion rising.  Slowly, her arms have come to rest rigidly in front of her body and her eyes continue their perusal of me, trying to determine whether I pose some kind of threat. 

 

Suddenly, she spins around away from me, and returns a minute later with one of the managers of the hill.  I immediately recognize him from my time out here, from arranging my cabin stay to the passes for the hill; he knows why I'm here and understands my need for privacy.    

 

"Angela here tells me you're inquiring about the women's alpine skiing prelims?" he asks with a standoff tone to his voice.

 

Knowing that I need to identify myself, I lift my sunglasses and turn my body away from the other passersby in hopes to remain inconspicuous.  "Hi, Josh," I greet, a small smile plastered on my face.

 

"Justin, I'm sorry, I didn't even recognize you," he says quickly, a hint of embarrassment on his face.

 

"That's kind of the deal..."

 

Lightly, he lets out a laugh and immediately I relax.  "So, you want to watch the prelims?"

 

"Yeah, I haven't ever gotten the chance to catch a race of this magnitude."  It's not totally a lie, just a bit of a half-truth.

 

"No problem, man.  I'll take you up there.  I have to head up there myself."

 

I nod my head in agreement, breathing a sigh of relief.  At least I can get into the event without walking through the masses, and hopefully, I can find a spot off to the side to wait for Taylor's run.  Maybe the idea of coming to watch won't be a total bust after all...

 

"Ready?" Josh asks, holding up a set of keys and I nod my head in agreement.  As the two of us walk back through the main chalet, I drop my sunglasses, tugging my hat a little lower and ducking my head into my chest.

 

We walk a little further behind one of the main buildings and hop into a two-seater that looks completely decked out for the snow.  Settling into the giant contraption, Josh flicks it to life and the two of us zoom away from the crowds at the main chalet and up towards the race. 

 

It's almost instant that I am able to recognize when we get close, the people start to thicken out, all just waiting patiently for a glimpse of the racers.  The press has been summoned in the masses, all hungrily eyeing the scenery for the money shot.  Whether that will be a racer talking quietly with friends and family, or hoping to get the shot of a crash.

 

I shake my head; the media is the media...no matter where you go. 

 

Josh maneuvers the two-seater away from the general public, but still around at the finish line. Securing the vehicle off to the side, he hands me a staff pass that I eagerly put around my neck. 

 

"Thanks, man," I tell him, offering him my hand as I remove my glove.

 

He accepts it in a firm shake and gives me a smile.  "It's the least we can do.  We're just glad that you've chosen our resort for your vacation." 

 

I nod my head at his words but he quickly continues, "You're free to watch the race from wherever, Justin.  Although, I recommend for your safety, you might want to stay tucked in around here.  You're out of the eyesight of the media and away from the fans to really gather any unwanted attention.  Plus, the racers will all ski through that gate there, circling to the bottom to await their official time.  Once placement is made, they will walk through this area here back towards their teams."

 

"Thanks for the advice."

 

"You're welcome, Justin.  Listen, I have to check with the official time keepers and get this show on the road.  The main board is right up there," he says, motioning behind us.  "That lists the order the skiers are set to come down the hill and then their rankings.  If you need anything, just let me know..."

 

"Sounds good, Josh.  I really appreciate you doing all of this.  I know I didn't give you any warning about wanting to catch the race."

 

He waves off my words with his hand.  "It's no trouble at all.  Have a good time."  With those final words, he disappears around a corner and into one of the many shelters housing the judges and television crews. 

 

I take another step forward, leaning up against one of the guard rails and take a deep breath.  Eyeing the board behind me, I see that Taylor isn't set to race until the very bottom group.  Obviously, her previous success allows her to wait until other racers have set the precedent. 

 

Immediately, my attention is drawn up the hill as the announcer gets over the loud speaker, signaling that race is ready to start.  The masses of people surge forward, pushing on the gates to get a little closer.  There are hand made signs from the hundreds of on-lookers, a few even have Taylor's name sprawled in big, bold letters.  I smile to myself, recalling the events that led up to me standing at the finish line for her race.  To think that a friendship can be born on a chairlift makes me laugh, but that's exactly what has happened.  She's become one of my friends, someone that I enjoy spending time with because she allows me to just be me...

 

Suddenly, my phone vibrates in my pocket and I reach to grab it, opening it up.  Noticing a new text message, I click the button and read the message from Trace.

 

What's up, man?  Enjoying the cold?

 

Laughing to no one in particular, I quickly type a response before jamming it back into my pocket as I spot the first racer make the turn onto the downward half of the course.  The scraping of skis against ice ricochets in the near quietness of the crowd, and I cringe, just thinking about the possibility of disaster if that skier looses balance. 

 

With an insane amount of speed, the racer gets closer to the crowd and all of a sudden cow-bells and cheering takes over, the flickering of cameras go off around me in pops as she skis successfully through the finish line.  Her time flies up on the board along with a one in her ranking.  Obviously she has set the precedent for the rest of the racers and I settle in to bide my time, waiting for Taylor's turn on the hill. 

 

It's been nearly an hour of watching the racers come down the hill, all making it to the bottom completely unscathed.  I take a huge sigh of relief, realizing that if there hasn't been a crash yet, Taylor should make it through this without a problem.  After all, she's the number one ranked, woman's alpine skier. 

 

The temperatures have started to drop as the sun makes its descent into the horizon, and I can feel the chill from the cold air settle in around me.  Thankfully, the wind has been relatively calm, keeping the hill in almost perfect racing condition, and I breathe a little easier at that thought. 

 

After all, Taylor is set to go next. 

 

The times have continued to get faster, ticking away by minutes and now seconds as each racer completes the course.  However, this last group has been the fastest yet, in fact, a couple have failed to knock the leader off the top, leaving me slightly worried for Taylor.  Even though she has informed me over and over again that the prelims aren't as important as the World Cup, I know that it's still imperative to her to finish strong.  It's the same for me as having a good performance, a good race for her gives her the confidence she needs going into the Olympics.  But there's so much more riding on it for her, she has her sponsors as well to live up to...her fans...her family...her own expectations.  The pressure that she puts on herself is astronomical and as the announcer says, "Jordan is now on the course" my eyes immediately flicker to the big screen that broadcasts the top half of the course.

 

Her body gracefully tucks itself into a crouch, her arms tightening in close to her side as she swings through the first couple of gates.  Her normal attire for the hill has been shed, clad in only a white and black race suite along with a helmet; she easily picks up the much needed speed to overtake the leader.  The split time at the half-way mark has Taylor nearly a second and half ahead of the leader, and I can feel my nerves for her taking over.  I just want her to win...

 

Suddenly, Taylor catches air over the hill and she quickly drops her legs back to the ground, connecting harshly on the ice.  I can hear the grinding of her skis as she tries to catch an edge and make the turn.  My stomach is literally in my throat as I realize how fast she's going.  She's coming down that hill at speeds I wouldn't even dream of attempting, and she's doing it with only a helmet to protect herself. 

 

All of a sudden, her skis dig in, allowing her the traction she needs to shift her weight and she clips another gate with her pole as she comes through the bottom half of the course.  Her body easily glides through the remaining gates and she juts her poles out, stopping the clock as she skids to halt at the bottom, spraying snow in her wake.  Her chest is heaving with exertion while the crowd goes nuts over her run.  Watching from a distant, I can see the bright smile that is taking over her face and her arms are thrown up in victory as her official time appears on the board.  She's in first.

 

I smile for her, for her accomplishment because I know these races are important to her.  I know what it feels like to set out on a goal and to finally accomplish it...it's an indescribable feeling.  Carefully, I watch as the media swarms around her as she approaches the gate.

 

Quickly, she unbuckles her bindings, flipping her skis up and allowing them to rest on her shoulder.  She removes her goggles and smiles brightly for the media.  Her name is being called out in rapid fire succession, everyone wanting to get some time with the Olympic hopeful.  As she is ushered into a holding area, just biding her time for the last two racers to come down, I watch from afar. 

 

She has this easy going personality with the press; she's neither rude nor off-putting to them.  She easily answers their questions, giving each interviewer her full attention.  I can't remember a time that I ever acted that way anymore.  Not to say that I am a total jackass to the press, but most of the time, they just don't know when to give me some time to myself.  I can't even fill my car up with gasoline without it making headlines in a magazine.  Maybe I would be a little more forgiving if I was given that time to just be a normal human being...

 

Despite Taylor's easy going attitude about being questioned, she quickly admonishes the interview when it's another person's turn on the hill.  Her respect for the sport, for her other racers is apparent in the way she deflects the attention away from her and onto the person currently skiing.

 

As the final two racers come down the hill, each skier clocked in a couple tenths of a second behind Taylor's time, securing her first place finish in the prelims.  The crowd erupts into loud cheers and boisterous yells of happiness at the results of the race.  I smile proudly...she was great today.

 

Turning to head out, away from the crowds and back to my sanctuary, I am immediately stopped dead in my tracks.

 

"Is that who I think it is?" she asks, her eyes rising in question.

 

"Depends on who you think it is..." I quip back coyly, a smile on my face.

 

"What the hell are you doing here?" she quickly fires back.  "Are you crazy?!"

 

I laugh at her reaction, definitely not what I was expecting.  "You know, I just risked a lot to come watch my friend win the prelims and now she is insulting me..."

 

She smiles at me before shifting her skis to her other shoulder.  "I'm not insulting...ok, yeah, maybe I am.  But, Ju-er," she suddenly cuts herself off from saying my name amongst the people surrounding us.  "I am thrilled that you're here...but seriously, you didn't have to risk your safety to watch the race."

 

I wave off her concern.  "As you can see, Ms. Jordan.  I am still in one-piece and I have been thankfully tucked into this corner, away from the blasting spotlights of the cameras."

 

She smiles broadly up at me.  "Have you been here the whole time?"

 

"Yep..." I respond coolly.  "You were great by the way..."

 

The blush that I have seen only a couple of other times prior, easily snakes its way into her cheeks, highlighting the wind burn that she is currently sporting as is.  "Did you see me almost lose it on the downturn?  My skis wouldn't catch the edge, I wasn't sure if I was going to make the gate."

 

"I wasn't worried..."

"Easy for you to say, you're not the one flying down the hill at more than fifty miles per hour."

 

"This is true, but I had faith."

 

"Whatever you say, Justin," she says, rolling her eyes.  "Listen, I have to go meet with Rob and the sponsors.  Even when the race is done, and the media has been put to rest, there's still something I have to take care of."

 

"I understand, no problem, Taylor."

 

Without hesitation, she pushes her skis into the crook of her left arm before reaching out with her right to wrap her arm around my waist, pulling me in for a hug.  "Thanks for coming."

 

Smoothly, I let my arm drift down her shoulder, wrapping around her waist and pulling her in tighter to me.  "Congratulations on your win..."

 

"Thanks," she answers excitedly before releasing her grip and pulling away.

 

I give her one last smile before walking back towards where the two-seater is parked, hoping I can catch a ride back with Josh. 

 

However, before I get too far out of range, I hear Taylor yell out to me, "J, do you want to do dinner again?"

 

Spinning around, I smile brightly, excited at the prospect to see her later tonight, when all of the dust settles.  "My house at eight, Taylor."  And with that, I finish walking away, a smile firmly planted on my lips.

 

Chapter 6

 

Taylor's POV

 

Surprise. 

 

Shock.

 

Awe.

 

All of those emotions have been running through my system throughout the day, I could barely concentrate at my meeting with my sponsors following the prelims.  I honestly can't believe that Justin would put it on the line, just to come watch my race.  It's not the World Cup or even the Olympics, but he put his neck on the line...for me.  I'm no one special, nobody that warrants that kind of effort, especially from an international superstar like Justin.

 

Despite our awkward meeting on the hill, and subsequent run-ins from there on, I still find myself feeling comfortable around him.  The main thing I've realized is that he makes me laugh.  His smile and the way he so easily teases me, it's comforting, it's easy.  There's a vibe to him that automatically allows me to relax and just be myself.  I don't have to worry about what I say or what I do around him...it's just kind of natural.

 

I haven't felt that with anyone in a long time...let alone a complete stranger.  But with Justin, things are just different.

 

Sighing to myself, I steady my hands on the wheel as I pull into his driveway, parking my Tahoe.  Taking a deep breath, I expel the thoughts from my head and prepare to just have a good time with him.  A time to just let loose, to celebrate the win today and the victory of Justin getting out to catch the race without compromising his whereabouts.

 

Quickly, I gather my purse, tucking it under my arm and getting out of the car.  The bite to the cold air immediately attacks my jean clad legs.  I shiver to myself and sink further into my jacket while making my way up his driveway and to the door.  Gently, I reach my hand up and give it a couple of knocks, shifting my weight from side-to-side as I wait for him to appear.  My breath blows out into the crisp night air, creating a smoke haze around me.  My hair is hanging in loose curls around my face, the beanie tucked securely on top of my head, trying to ward off the chill. 

 

Suddenly, the door is whipped open, my eyes darting immediately to the light that has appeared in front of me.  Justin is standing there in a pair of dark jeans, a light blue button up, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and he's wiping his hands off with a towel.

 

"Hey, Taylor, come in," he says happily, turning to open the door a little further.

 

As I walk into his cabin, I'm immediately hit with the grand scale of things, the cherry wood, the fireplace, the expensive and over-stuffed furniture.  It's absolutely one of the most beautiful places I have ever seen before in my life, and it clearly puts my little house to shame.

 

"Wow, Justin," I say in awe, my eyes darting rapidly around the room.

 

He scuffs like it's no big deal before turning to grab my jacket, his hands easily removing the material from my shoulders.

 

"You don't like it?" I ask, slipping my arms out of it.

 

"It's alright.  But it's not really home, ya know?  It's just stuff...nothing is mine."

 

"Still...talk about living it up!" I say excitedly, my eyes wide.

 

He laughs at me before hanging my jacket in the hall closet and walking towards the living room.  Quietly, I slip off my shoes and follow behind him, the smell of something Italian wafting heavily in the room.  My stomach starts to gurgle quietly and I try to quiet its noise, as to not embarrass myself.

 

"Want something to drink?" he asks, opening the cabinet and grabbing a glass.  "I have some wine..."

 

"Wine's good," I answer, taking the glass from his hands and holding it out for him to pour the liquid into.  I take a quick sip and he motions towards one of the island stools for me to sit down in while he finishes dinner.  "You didn't have to cook anything, Justin."

 

He looks at me peculiarly.  "Of course I did, Taylor.  You just won the preliminaries!  It's a celebration!"

 

I can't help but smile at his enthusiasm; it's nice to have someone that takes an interest in something that is so near and dear to my heart.  Although my family has been the ever supporting group, it's just not the same when I'm the only one out on the hill.  My brother has never ventured on skis and my parents, well, my dad used to come out with me but he hasn't for years.

 

"I can't wait to see what kind of a dinner you put on if I win the World Cup...or even the Olympics."  The words are out of my mouth before I can even think, not realizing the fact that his presence here in Breckenridge is merely temporary.  After he leaves in January, he won't be around to watch the races, or even the Olympics.  He has his own life to get back to. 

 

"I'll think of something good," he answers, winking at me as he opens the oven door and pulls the dish out.  Gently, he sets it on top, removing the warmers from his hands and slowly starts to take the tin foil off.  The aroma of lasagna quickly fills the quarters of the kitchen, and I find myself extra hungry all of a sudden.  After a day like today, I have certainly worked up an appetite and it seems Justin has taken notice of that.

 

"You can cook?" I ask in astonishment.

 

"I can actually..." Quickly, he opens another cabinet, pulling out a couple of dishes and some silverware.  He throws in a dishing spoon, before motioning me over and grabbing the garlic bread to top it off.  "I'm no Emeril or anything..."

 

"It's perfect, Justin," I tell him before grabbing the spoon and dishing out some of the food.  It looks delicious, all hot and bubbly in the pan...it certainly outshines whatever concoction I would have whipped up on my own.

 

The two of us quietly sit down at his dining room table, placing our meals in front of us before grabbing the wine as well.  It's not until I am sitting a couple of feet away from him, in his home, eating something he cooked for me, that the butterflies start to set in.  I have never had anyone take the time to cook for me, let alone some kind of mouth-watering meal.  He's thought of everything and it kind of takes me aback.

 

"This is amazing, Justin.  I don't think I've ever had lasagna this good..." I tell him, taking another bite from my plate.

 

"You like it?" he asks and the tone to his voice, the need for validation is sweet.

 

I nod my head, swallowing another piece.  "It's great.  You'll have to teach me sometime.  Whenever I cook, it's usually something small and plain.  That's about all I have mastered in the kitchen."

 

"I'm all up for a teaching session," he answers, taking a sip of wine.

 

Softly, he sits back in his chair, his hand fingering the stem of his glass and the other resting comfortably on his leg.  There's a hint of a small smile on his face and his eyes are lit up; he looks genuinely happy.

 

"So, how did your meeting go?" Justin asks, breaking me from my perusal of him.

 

I sit back in my chair, taking a break from the delicious meal.  "About the same as usual.  After I said bye to you, Rob and I headed back up to the top, to gather all of my racing gear and then went back to one of the chalets designated for the racers.  I changed into normal clothes and then headed into downtown, back to Rob's office.  All of my sponsors were there with more gear, more clothes, I am practically loaded down now with logos."

 

He laughs heartily at me.  "I can relate.  There's always someone trying to give you things to wear...even if I am just running to the drug-store or something.  It's kind of ridiculous."

 

"At least you have a choice whether or not to actually wear it.  Me, on the other hand, I don't have a choice.  I have to be seen supporting their products or they will pull the sponsorship.  And trust me, that's bad."

 

"Does that actually happen now?"

 

"Oh yeah," I answer, taking another sip of wine.  "More than you could possibly know.  It's usually a career-ending curse for a skier.  No more cutting edge technology skis, wax, boots, bindings, and gear...everything just disappears."

 

"Has it happened to you?" he asks softly, his eyes thoughtful.

 

"No, thank God."  I shake my head.  "Anyways though, about my meeting...my team and I had to talk about appearances, training sessions and races coming up," I explain, taking a couple more bites of the piping hot lasagna before settling back into my chair, feeling slightly stuffed from the pasta and bread.  After a strenuous day like today, I needed this.

 

"You have more competitions?" he asked, wiping his mouth with his napkin.

 

"No.  I told them that I just wanted to focus on the World Cup and then train for the Olympics.  Too many races and I can start to get a little jumbled, always feeling like the next big pressure cooker is on the horizon, ya know?"

 

He laughs at my analogy.  "Out of everyone, no one understands being overbooked more than me..."

 

I nod my head, realizing the amount of stress and pressure he must feel everyday out in LA and in the entertainment industry.

 

Suddenly, he motions to my meal, asking if I am finished before he clears the dishes.  I stand to help him put everything away, again thanking him for the delicious home cooked meal. 

 

As the two of us shuffle around the kitchen, me mostly bumping into him, not really knowing where anything goes, we finally get everything packed away and the dishes in the dishwasher before walking into the living room.  My glass of wine is still firmly in my hands as we settle into the couch, me on one end with my legs tucked up and him on the other, almost in a relaxed position.  His legs are strutting out from his long and lean body, and his head falls back gingerly on the cushions behind him.  Quickly, he reaches for the remote, flicking to life the fireplace in front of us.

 

"So tell me about California?" I ask, trying to get a little insight into the man that has suddenly become a part of my life in the short amount of time that I have known him.

 

He takes a deep breath, almost trying to steady his reaction to my words.  Immediately I feel the blush creep up my neck and settle into my cheeks.  Completely overstepped the boundaries there.

 

"If you don't want to-" I start to say but he eyes me, silencing my apology.

 

"It's not that, trust me, Taylor.  It's just I don't even know where to begin."

 

"Start from the beginning, that's usually the best," I answer, a hint of mocking in my voice and a smile practically lights up his entire face.

 

"What do you want to know?" he asks, his legs crossing at the ankle.

 

"Do people know you're here?"

 

He nods his head.  "Yeah, my family does and my best friend, Trace, he knows too."

 

"But the media?"

 

"Not a clue, so far.  It's only a matter of time before someone with a camera phone snaps a picture of me on the hill and it'll all be over.  They're probably going crazy right now not being able to find me."

 

"What's it like?" I ask, not really understanding the level of devotion that surrounds him.  Although I am quite easily recognized, it's not nearly enough to annoy me and people are usually always very polite with their requests.  I have no clue what life must be like for someone of Justin's stature.

 

"It's tiring...it's hard..." he says, a hint of sadness lacing his words.  "Don't get me wrong, I realize I signed up for the deal.  I guess I didn't think it would ever get to this extreme.  I mean, I can't even walk outside without at least ten guys following me down the street with a camera in my face.  And they act like they're my friend, asking about events, family, girlfriends...everything.  Yet, if I even open my mouth to answer them; my words will be twisted the next day in the tabloids..."  His words flow through his lips in a rush, the stress of it all taking over.

 

I set my glass down and gently wrap my arms around my leg, almost in a protective manner.  I feel for him...I really do.

 

His sad eyes turn to meet mine and the look there makes my heart clench.  "I've gotten to the point that I just don't say anything anymore."

 

"That's horrible," I answer softly, my words barely audible in the room.

 

He shrugs his shoulders.  "I think that's part of the reason I enjoy spending time with you, Taylor."

 

"What?" I ask, confused, and shaking my head.

 

"You let me just remember what it's like to be Justin.  I feel comfortable around you.  For some reason, you just kind of put me at ease.  You get what my life is like because you have a taste of it all yourself.  But you're not jaded by it...you embrace it enough to fulfill your obligations but you still have the respect for yourself to know when to push them away."

 

I'm slightly stunned by his words. 

 

"I've let so many people in that have used me, taken everything they possibly could from me and just spit me out like some piece of garbage.  You're the first person that I have met that didn't make me feel that way at all...quite the opposite actually."

 

The blush that was there when I was embarrassed has now suddenly made itself known again.  The blood pooling in my cheeks and with the combination of the wine, the room suddenly feels awfully hot.  Damn fireplace!

 

"Thanks..." I stutter, not really sure how to respond.

 

"See, that's what I mean," he says, sitting up, his forearms resting on his knees and his head turned towards me.  "You don't even realize the calming effect you have on me.  It's like I could sit her all night, just listening to you talk...it's freeing to me.  It's comforting.

 

Coming here tonight, I never would have imagined that the conversation would have taken a turn quite like this.  I'm not really sure what to say to that, thanks just doesn't seem to cut it.

 

"You're awfully easy to talk to yourself, ya know," I offer, hoping to draw some of the attention away from myself.

 

He laughs at that, a smile on his face before he reclines back into the couch.  "Thanks, Taylor."

 

"Anytime."

 

The silence that suddenly falls throughout the room has me on edge.  I've never really felt uncomfortable around Justin before but the turn in conversation has me a little jumpy and I don't really know why.

 

"So, are you nervous for the Olympics?" he asks, looking at me from his stretched out position on the couch.

 

"Oh God yes," I laugh, thankful for the topic switch to something more neutral.  "Nervous doesn't quite cut it.  This is a defining moment in my career; everything that I have worked for is leading up to those two weeks..."

 

"I can't imagine what it would be like to compete on that level..."

 

"Me either, this is my first year finally making the cut.  Four years ago, I crashed and burned in the trials, never making it because of the disqualification.  It's not like the Olympics comes around all the often and a skier's career isn't really about longevity.  After all, the body can only take so much grinding away on the hill."

 

He shakes his head in astonishment.  "I would crack under that pressure, I think.  I mean, you have one shot to get it right, that's it."

 

"That's what it's like for me when I think about your career, though, Justin.  I don't think I could stand up in an arena with twenty-thousand eyes all turned on me, watching me sing or dance.  In fact, I would probably be sick."

 

A laugh suddenly busts through his lips, his eyes crinkling at the side.  "You're worried about twenty-thousand when millions will be watching you race in February.  That's kind of backwards, Taylor..."

 

I smile at his logic before reaching for my glass and taking another sip of wine.  "It's different...I'm comfortable on skis.  Singing...not so much.  Although, I would love to be able to watch you perform, ya know, return the favor."

 

"Favor?" he asks, confused.

 

"Yeah, you came to the hill to support me.  Turnabout is fair play..."

 

"How about I make you a deal?"

 

I eye him suspiciously.  "What's the deal?"

 

"You come to the next event that I perform at and I'll come watch you at the Olympics."

 

My mouth drops open and my eyes widen almost immediately.  "Now you've lost your mind..."

 

"Why's that?" he says, sitting up, a smirk on his face.

 

"I'm just supposed to waltz into an event with you?"

 

"Yeah, what's the problem?"

 

"Let's start with the fact that I have never, and I mean never been invited to one of those before..." I hedge, hoping to kind of downplay his whole idea.  It's not that I don't want to go with him; it's just that I don't fit in his world like that.  "And you're going to go to the Olympics?  Do you realize the frenzy that would ensue if you showed up there?"

 

"So?" he says, shrugging his shoulder.  "The whole invitation thing that you're hung up on...I just did it for you.  So that's taken care of...  And the Olympics, I can be discrete but even if someone spots me, they all know I'm a big boarder."

 

"So what are you going to say when they ask you why you're at the women's alpine event?"

 

His eyebrows rise slightly and he looks thoughtful for a second.  "That I am getting a thorough experience, ensuring that I check out all the Olympics have to offer?" He smiles wickedly and lets out a laugh from his lips.

 

I can't help but return his smile, laughing right along with him, and the sudden tension that was present a little bit ago eases from the room, disappearing all together with his humor.

 

As the two of us continue to joke, ribbing each other when the opportunity presents itself and encouraging when the insecurities come about, I take a look at my watch, realizing that it's almost midnight.  The two of us have been on the couch, just talking for the last couple of hours, and I must have been completely caught up in his company to not even realize how tired I am or the fact that I still have to be at the office by seven tomorrow morning.

 

"Wow, it's getting late, Justin," I say, a disappointed smile on my face.  As much as I need to get home, to get some rest from the day so that I can deal with all of the meetings tomorrow, I'm kind of reluctant to leave.  I haven't ever had a night where the conversation just seemed to flow, no need to fill the silences with mindless chatter. 

 

Unhurriedly, Justin glances at the clock on the mantel, realizing the time.  "I can't believe how late it's already gotten."

 

"Me too," I answer, standing up and walking into the kitchen.  Gently, I place my wine glass in the sink, rinsing it out as well.  As I turn to exit the kitchen, Justin is standing at the entryway, leaning up against the wall and his arms jammed into his jean pockets.

 

"I had a really good time tonight with you, Taylor," he says softly as I come to stand by him.  I can't help but let my eyes wander over the brown, thin curls on top of his head, the scruff of a couple days growth on his jaw, and his bright blue eyes.  He's the epitome of rugged right now...and it's suddenly making me a little hot.

 

Shaking my head, trying to clear my thoughts and return to the moment at hand, I gently place my hand on his forearm.  My fingers softly give a little squeeze of assurance as I walk by him and grab my jacket from the closet.  Quickly, I throw my shoes on as well and place my hat back on top of my head. 

 

"Thanks, Justin, for dinner and having me over.  I had a great time as well."

 

He smiles broadly, his white teeth shining brightly.  "Me too."

 

Reaching for the doorknob, I spot his hand as it quickly enters my line of sight, opening the door for me.  The two of us inhale from the sharp attack of the cold, midnight air, and I turn to face him.

 

"I'll see you later, Justin, thank you again," I tell him before getting ready to step outside of the comfort of his warm cabin.

 

His hand suddenly reaches for my own, gently grabbing it and pulling me into a hug.  Comfortingly, his arms wrap around me, holding me against him for a split second before releasing me.  "Congratulations again, Taylor," he says, giving me another smile and leaving me slightly dazed.  Quickly, I regain my composure and turn to leave, thanking the stars that the chill of the air can cool the burning in my cheeks.

 

 

Chapter 7

 

Justin's POV

 

The afternoon sun has been blocked by the cotton clouds, drenching the mountain in an omniscient gray tone all day.  The wind has been starkly quiet, only gently wafting through the area in bursts but nothing to make the day miserably cold.  I have been sequestered on the mountain for a couple of hours, just enjoying the time alone and basking in the powder.  I'm starting to think my love for boarding is taking over my life...maybe I should reconsider moving out to Colorado instead of LA. 

 

As I ride another chair lift to the top, I pop my goggles over my eyes and set them on my forehead.  My eyes immediately wander around the hill, for a weekday, the hill is relatively quiet, and I'm thankful for that.  After the craziness from the prelims, I am ready just to get my hill back with the locals.

 

Maybe part of the reason I am ready for things to get back to normal is the fact that I haven't seen Taylor since Saturday night.  It's not that I have been avoiding her, that's quite the opposite actually.  I have been looking for any chance to hang out again, and I realize how screwed up that is in my head.  The last thing I need right now is to get attached to someone that I will have no opportunity to be there for once I leave.  But things just kind of feel different with her.  She's not watching me, looking for an opportunity to jump me or trap me in a situation that could blow up in my face faster than I can even blink.  Maybe she is and I am too blind to see it...I always seem to turn a blind eye when it comes to a woman that I am attracted to.  But even with that knowledge, knowing that's how I usually operate, things still feel different with her.

 

The fact that we haven't spoken for a couple days, she's not randomly calling, texting, or even showing up at my house.  It's like she's disappeared for the time being and that has me feeling extremely anxious...more so than I would have thought. 

 

Sighing, I realize I am reaching the top of the hill and I quickly place my goggles back over my eyes, shielding me from view of the other skiers.  Quickly, I disembark from the chairlift, balancing on the board before gliding to a halt.  Sitting down on the snow, I snap the bindings back in place before standing back up and hopping near the edge.

 

Just as I am about to take off down another run, my phone vibrates in my pocket.  Swiftly, I whip off my mitten, fingering the contraption and placing it up to my ear.

 

"Hello?" I answer, maneuvering myself towards one of the further entrance points and away from others.

 

"About damn time I catch you," Trace bellows into the line and I can't help but laugh at his impatience.

 

"I didn't know I had to check in, dad," I joke, leaning up against one of the fences.

 

"Shut it," he says quickly.  "So how's Colorado?  Tired of the cold, yet?"

 

"Surprisingly no."

 

"What have you been doing all by yourself?" he asks, and I can't help the smile at the thought that I haven't really been alone at all.

 

"Actually I met someone, man."

 

There's an audible sigh into the phone and I cringe at his non-verbal reaction.  "Please tell me you're joking.  Have you already forgotten the bullshit Jessica did to you?"

 

I mentally chastise myself.  Of course I haven't forgotten, just the mention of her name brings a stinging pain to my chest, remembering the way she so easily maneuvered her way into my life.  I never even questioned how fast we were moving, it all felt natural.  God, how I was wrong.  I fell for her games, I fell for her lies, and I fell hard for her.  "No, I haven't forgotten, Trace."

 

"Well then, why the fuck are you getting into another relationship out there?"

 

"I'm not in a relationship.  I never said that," I sigh, rubbing my hand over my brows.  "It's not like that with her."

 

"What do you mean?  Who is she?"

 

"Taylor Jordan."  The minute her name falls from my lips, I can't stop the smile that tugs at my lips. 

 

"The Olympian?" Trace asks incredulously.

 

I laugh at the way he addresses her.  Although she's a world-renowned skier, heading for the Olympics in just two months, I don't see her like that.  Well, I do...it's just...there's more.  She's Taylor.  The girl who laughs at my jokes, who likes to make fun of the fact that I snowboard, and can bring a smile and ease to my life that I've needed for a while now.

 

"Yeah, that's her."

 

"Well, damn, she's gorgeous, man.  Not to mention, she can fucking rip it up on the slopes."

 

I laugh at the way he so easily accepts her now, just the name changes it all.  "Yeah, she definitely can.  I actually caught the race that was just here...she won it."

 

"Nice!  So, you two have been hanging out?  One superstar to the other."

 

I groan.  I hate it when he calls me that, and he knows it.  "Yeah, well we met on the slopes the other day and she's been over.  It's good to have some company..."

 

"Listen, dude, I am glad that you have someone to chill with.  Just be careful, alright.  This isn't just some random girl.  This is Taylor Jordan, she comes with her own following, and if the press gets wind of this...even if you guys are just friends...it's going to blow up."

 

I sigh, realizing how right Trace is, but not willing to fully admit that my relationship with Taylor could quite possibly explode in my face and hers.  "I'll be careful."

 

"I know you will.  Alright, well, I just wanted to call, see how you're holding up."

 

"Sounds good, man.  I'll give you a buzz later or something."

 

"Alright.  Bye, Justin," he says before the line goes dead.

 

Even though our conversation was brief, Trace has given me a lot to think about, to contemplate.  Shoving my phone into my pocket, I throw my mitten back on.  As much as I should, I don't want to analyze what little of a relationship Taylor and I have developed.  It's all so new to me, it's comfort, and I'm not willing to throw that away because it may or might not come to light eventually.  Besides, am I willing to just walk away from the fact that Taylor makes me feel things I haven't felt in a long time?  As ridiculous as it sounds, she makes me feel safe.  I don't question everything about her.  She's just Taylor, and that's more than enough for me.

 

Hitching my board, I turn the tip down the hill and easily start the ride back down to the bottom.  Curving effortlessly in and out of the ridges, riding the powder and absorbing the bumps along the way.  My mind loses all sense of worry and it's just me and the hill in that moment.  As I come to a screeching halt at the bottom, blowing snow up at my sudden stop, I bend over, unbuckling the binding.  Maneuvering towards the line for the lift, I keep my eyes locked on the ground, not really willing to make eye contact with anyone.  Just as I am about to sit down on the lift, another skier slides in next to me and judging by the red Rossignol skis in my line of sight, I now exactly who has just shown up.

 

"Funny meeting you again," he voice carries through the air, making me smile in the process.

 

I turn towards her and immediately I am hit with the image of her long, blonde hair poking out underneath her hat and wrapping securely around her face.  The faintest hint of wind burn is stinging her cheeks, making them a rosy, red color.  Her blue eyes are shining brightly amidst the overcast skis, and it's really great to see her after a couple of days.

 

"You know, that's three times that you have snuck up on me at the chairlift.  I'm starting to think you're actually stalking me," I joke, a teasing tone to my voice.

 

"Need I remind you who has shown up on my side of the hill prior a couple of times.  I think it's the other way around, Justin."

 

I laugh at both of us.  Clearly we enjoy each other's company since we're constantly seeking the other out.  "If you wanted to spend time with me, all you had to do was ask."

 

"Right back at ya."  She laughs and I find myself joining in right along with her.  "So, what are you up to today?"

 

I flip my board like the answer is obvious.  "Just enjoying the serenity of the hill now that all of your people have taken off."

 

She scoffs at me.

 

"What about you?" I ask, motioning towards her and her casual gear.  Clearly she's not out here racing today.

 

"Just getting in a few runs."

 

"Want some company?" I ask, feeling a bit of a thrill to hang out with her again. It's been a while since I have seen her and if I'm honest, I kind of miss her.

 

"I would...you know where I can find some?" she jokes, a broad smile on her face.  Gently, she nudges me with her shoulder and I laugh.  "I'm kidding.  You'll do."

 

I try to feign the fact that she just made a jab at me but I can't seem to wipe the smile off my face to act angry.  As we approach the top, we get off together and she skids to a stop, allowing me to buckle my boot into my board. 

 

"Ready?" I ask, standing up and hopping closer to her.

 

"Hmmm...let's make this interesting at least."

 

"What do you mean?" I ask, having no clue what she's possibly getting at. 

 

Her eyes scan the hill before coming to land on me, a mischievous look on her face.  "Well, let's see if you can keep up with me, Justin.  You know, you always brag that boarders are better than skiers...time to pony up," she explains, leaning forward on her poles.

 

The corners of my lips twitch in amusement and, after that challenge, there's no way I am backing down, not when she thinks she can so easily beat me.  "You want to race for money?" I ask in disbelief.

 

"Money?" she echoes.  "No way, that's boring.  I don't want your money, not now, not ever."

 

Even a bet, something so stupid, brings out a truth that settles me and leaves me reeling with happiness inside.  Although I never would have asked her, she just offered a piece of information that solidifies the fact that she is absolutely different than anyone I have met in a long time.

 

"Then what do you want to race for?" I ask, moving my board closer to the edge, getting ready to jump the gun the second she says go.

 

"Answers..." she breathes out, a cloudy haze surrounding us from her warm breath.  "You beat me, you can ask me anything you want and I'll answer.  And vice versa, I beat you, and you have to dish out the dirt too."

 

"Sounds like an even trade..." I answer, a little hesitant as to what secrets I might have to reveal.  Although, thinking logically, if I beat her every time, she's the one who has to answer the question.  "Not at this hill though, too many people around...first race, is down here, over through the trees and up the hill to the other side.  First one to the chairlift wins.  Questions are asked and answered on the lift where no one else can hear."

 

"Deal," she answers and before she knows what's happening, I have already kicked my board forward, heading straight towards the gateway between the trees.

 

My board is flying easily across the snow, making minimal turns, just enough to gain control but not enough to slow my speed.  As I make my way through the trees, I hear the grinding of skis on the snow behind me, realizing Taylor is close.  I tuck my body into itself, trying to be as aerodynamic as possible as I go up the short hill and onto the other hill.  Approaching the lift, my hand snaps against one of the poles just as Taylor skids to a halt, right behind me.  I won.

 

"You cheated..." she says, her breathing rapid.

 

"I did no such thing.  I merely saw an opportunity and capitalized on it," I explain, unsnapping a binding and getting in line with her. 

 

"This is your one and only win, Timberlake," she says, the last part almost a whisper.

 

The two of us quickly get on the chair and are hoisted up the mountain.  "Alright, Taylor, since I clearly beat you out there..." I begin and she scoffs at me.  "What's one thing you have to do before each race?"

 

She ponders the question for a second, before finally answering, "I have to listen to "Eye of the Tiger" on my iPod.  I will not race until I hear it."

 

"Really?"

 

"Yeah, I don't know, it gets me in the mindset, reminding me why I am doing what I am doing in the first place."

 

I nod my head appreciatively and the two of us get off at the shorter hill.  As we come to a halt at the drop-off, she eyes me skeptically, watching to see if I am going to "cheat" again. 

 

"Relax, I'm playing fair," I answer her questioning stare and smile at her.  "On three...one...two...three."

 

Both of us fly over the edge at the same time, pumping our legs trying to gain speed.  We're practically neck-and-neck, the entire way down but suddenly another skier comes right into my line and I have to shoot my board out, slowing my speed so that I don't connect with them.  I watch as Taylor goes zipping right by me, knowing full well, she's won this one.

 

After finally making my way down the rest of the hill, I pout my way up next to her and get on the lift.  "Completely unfair, and you know it."

 

"Karma, Justin, karma," she says matter-of-factly.  "Alright, my turn, what's one thing you wish you had up here in Colorado?"

 

"That's easy...my recording studio."

 

"Really?" she asks, swinging her left ski slightly.

 

"Yeah, definitely, I have so much time on my hand.  I've been writing here and there, just getting ideas.  But when I get in the studio, everything just flows out.  Normally, I don't even write down my lyrics when I get going.  But since I can't do that up here...I write."

 

"Wow, that's really great, Justin.  I haven't met many guys that admit to writing..."

 

I laugh.  "It's my job.  But at the same time, it's like therapy.  I don't know, music has always had this ability to cheer me up, bring me down, make me laugh, make me forget...everything just kind of revolves around it for me."

 

"So do you miss it?"

 

I sigh, even though I realize that this vacation is absolutely vital for my health, I know there's more to it.  "Absolutely, I do.  But it's nothing that can't wait a couple of months, you know, let the madness settle down in LA."

 

"What happened in LA?"  I mean, I know you said that you got worked over by a girl..."

 

"I believe you'll have to win another race to get the answer to that question, Taylor," I tease as we get off at the top this time.

 

"Alright, new race route," she says as we come to a slow crawl near the top, allowing me time to buckle in my bindings.  "Down here, off to the hill on the right, and over to the other chairlift.  First one there, wins."

 

"On three," I call out and we both take off down the hill when I reach the end of the countdown. 

 

The run is considerably longer, and I find Taylor pulling away from me just slightly.  Knowing I need to gain some speed, I choose not to turn the board as often and suddenly I catch an edge.  The board seizes underneath me, jolting my body forward almost instantly, and I go flying forward, crashing face first into the hill.  The snow shoots up in a powdery dust, my head nearly snapping against the ground but I manage to avoid that.  My hands are out in front of me, sliding across the hill, trying to slow my crash and bring everything to a halt.  As the haze surrounding me starts to settle and I slow to a stop, I immediately move my legs and arms, hoping that everything is still in working condition.

 

"Holy shit!  Justin, are you ok?" Taylor yells from further down the hill.

 

As soon as I have confirmation that everything is still in working order, I sit up, reaching to right myself on the hill.  Suddenly, my eyes catch Taylor's from afar and she's already unbuttoning her skis, pounding her boots into the ground as she climbs the distance up towards me.

 

"Are you ok?" she asks, panic clearly in her voice as she drops to her knees next to me.  Her hands immediately draw themselves to my face, cupping my cheeks in her hands while her eyes rapidly flutter across my face.  "Are you hurt?  Is anything broken?"

 

I laugh at her concern and regret it when the pain shoots through my back.  "Just my pride..."

 

A soft smile creeps over her face and her eyes land squarely on my own.  "I think we're done racing for now...what do you think?"

 

"I think you're just quitting because I was going to beat you."

 

She laughs lightly at me.  "After that fall, I'll let you believe whatever you want.  Are you sure you're ok?  That was a pretty nasty one," she says, dropping her hands from my face and sitting back on her legs to propel herself up.

 

I manage to maneuver myself upright next to her.  "I caught an edge back there and just couldn't recover."

 

"How about we head in?  You're going to be pretty sore tonight and definitely tomorrow."

 

"Yeah, you're probably right," I answer, my voice crestfallen with disappointment.  It seems like this was the only way for us to really get to know one another, without the guards or ability to deflect a question that was nagging one of us.  "Still, I wanted to beat you..."

 

"We'll leave it for another day, Justin.  I promise, you can race me another time."

 

As we make our way down the hill, Taylor quickly clips back into her skis and we glide leisurely to the chalet.  Neither of us wanting to press the limits again today, one fall is enough.  It's better that it was me, at least.  She has the Olympics soon, it's foolish when something so important is coming up for her, I can't imagine what would happen had she been the one to get hurt. 

 

Gathering our gear from inside and hoisting our skis and board up, we walk back into the parking lot.  My body already starting to feel the soreness from the crash a bit ago.  In fact, my shells have more snow down them than I care to think about, and I'm starting to get cold. 

 

"You sure you're ok, Justin?  Maybe you should come over to my house; I can take care of ya.  Seriously, I have crashed and burned so many times, you're going to need someone later..."

 

A soft smile pulls at my lips; she cares.  "I don't have anything extra with me and I have more snow down my jacket and pants than I ever expected.  So, I need to go home, for sure."

 

"Would it be easier if I just swung up there then?" she asks, nothing but concern shining in her eyes. 

 

"Yeah, just bring some things up to my house.  That way you can watch me gimp around the rest of the night with a bruised ego and hurt pride."

 

"If it makes you feel any better, you did it with style, Justin."

 

I wrap my arm around her shoulder, pulling her in close to me.  "Well at least I'm good for one thing."

 

Chapter 8

 

Justin's POV

 

The light of the day has finally disappeared, succumbing to the horizon and basking the world in a sheer, thin layer of darkness.  The moon is rising in the sky, illuminating the streets below in its wake.  Suddenly, the fireplace crackles next to me, pumping the heat through my cabin and I shift my body around on the couch.  It's been about an hour since Taylor and I left the hill.  She's ordered me home, straight into the shower, which I already did, and to wait for her to get there.  The muscles in my back have been cramping ever since the crash and I know I am going to be a mess come tomorrow.  Not to mention, the faint remnants of bruises have begun to show on my arms and legs from the impact of hitting the hard snow going as fast as I possibly could on my board.

 

I chuckle to myself, remembering the crash almost like it happened in slow motion.  Definitely not one of my finer moments, especially in front of Taylor.  She must think I am a complete idiot, incapable of keeping up with her on the slopes.  Sighing, I tug on my wind pants, dropping them a little lower on my hips before walking into the kitchen to grab some water.  Just as I open the refrigerator, a soft knock echoes through the house and I quickly shut it, walking towards the door.

 

Pulling the door open, Taylor is standing there in a pair of black rip aways, her sneakers peeking out from underneath and a white, team USA sweatshirt.  Her normally long blonde hair is pulled up in a messy ponytail, and slung over her shoulders is a bag packed full of supplies.

 

"How are you feeling, hotshot?" she says, an amused smile on her lips as I open the door wider for her to step inside.

 

"I've been better..." I answer, grimacing as my back tweaks from me twisting to shut the door.

 

She eyes me cautiously before ushering me over to the couch.  "Lay down, I'm going to get some things for you, it'll help with the swelling and the pain."

 

"You're the expert I guess."

 

"You bet I am," she answers, throwing her bag down and pulling out some of the contents.  "I have crashed more times, and way worse than what you did out there.  Although, it's been a while since I've seen a fall like that."

 

"I aim to please," I snip back jokingly, laying down on the couch and tucking a pillow underneath my head.

 

As she grabs a black wrap thing, she quickly runs into the kitchen, digging through the freezer.  "You don't have an ice pack?" she calls out loudly.

 

"Why would I have an ice pack?" I yell back, smiling at the absurdity of that request.  I can't say it was high up on priority list when I decided to move out here for the winter. 

 

She sighs audibly before closing the door and walking back into the living room, grabbing her bag once again.  "For events like this..." she says, pulling out one of those instant ice packs, snapping it over her leg.  "You're lucky you met me, Justin."

 

I laugh as she grabs a black wrap along with the ice.  "How do you figure that, Taylor?  If I wasn't racing you, I never would have crashed."

 

She motions for me to sit up and scoot towards the end of the couch.  Gently, she sits down next to me, extending one of her long legs behind my back, almost side-straddling me.  I can't stop the immediate reaction from my body brought on by her close proximity.  She's just inches away from me, the heat from her body permeating through my clothes. 

 

"Take your sweatshirt off, Justin.  I need to wrap this around your stomach." 

 

I think for some reason my brain has mildly shut off, effectively halting my movements.  My eyes widen a bit when I turn to meet hers.  The look she's shooting my way is clearly radiating the concern for my injuries...nothing else...no other motive.  Slowly, I reach behind my neck, pulling the material over my head and discarding the bulky sweatshirt onto a nearby chair. 

 

"Alright, lift your arms," she says and I quickly follow her instructions.  Suddenly, her arms wrap around my mid-section, securing the black wrap around my stomach, tightening it before sliding the ice pack squarely into the center of my back.  "Is that too tight?  Is the ice where it hurts the most?"

 

My mind is rapidly beating off thoughts faster than I can comprehend her words and I try to steel my reaction to her nearness.  She's merely helping me out, taking care of my injuries, nothing more, nothing less.  So why do I suddenly long for more?

 

"It's fine...it's good," I stammer out, trying to calm my racing thoughts.

 

"Alright, lie down; we'll leave the ice on for twenty minutes.  Do you want anything to drink?  To eat?"

 

"No, I'm good."  Thankfully, I manage to string a whole sentence together without sounding like a fool.  I don't think I've ever reacted so strongly before to just being near a woman.  It's like there's a charge that runs through her to me, wrapping me in its hold and keeping my brain from functioning properly.

 

"Ok, first thing first is to ice it, then I'll put some of this gel on that I use whenever I crash, it helps the muscles relax and not be so tight.  I'm not saying you're not going to be sore but hopefully we can curve a bit of the pain."

 

"I feel like an idiot in case you're wondering," I tell her as she settles into the love seat just across the room. 

 

"Why?"

 

"I crashed and burned on the hill...in front of an Olympian...can't quite bruise the ego like that everyday..."

 

She scoffs at me.  "Have you never watched me race before?  I have crashed plenty of times...at speeds way faster than you.  It happens to the best of us.  Sometimes that patch of ice or that rut just catches the ski, or in your case, board, the wrong way and there's no stopping it."

 

"Still..." I mumble, feeling the embarrassment slide over me.

 

"You need to get over it, Justin.  We all crash..."

 

"What's your worst crash?"  I ask, turning my head towards her, letting my eyes wander over the way she has her legs curled up against her chest, her arms resting comfortably on the tops of her knees.

 

"Damn, probably the crash at the World Cup four years ago that knocked me out of the Turin Olympics.  I crashed so hard, I don't even remember it.  I just remember coming out of the turn off balance, hitting the jump into the second half of the course and knowing I wasn't going to land it up right.  I caught the snow with one ski and went down.  That's all I remember.  I knocked myself completely unconscious."

 

My eyes nearly bulge out of my head.  "Oh my God, are you ok?"

 

She laughs at my outburst.  "Yeah, I'm fine, obviously."

 

I roll my eyes at her snarky comment.  "You know what I meant..."

 

"You're the one that said it..." she jokes back.  "Anyways, yeah, I spent two days in the hospital; I had two broken ribs, a concussion, and a lot of bruises.  You think you're hurting, I was a mess..."

 

I grimace at her recollection of her fall.  "How'd you ever get back out there after that?"

 

A soft smile takes over her face and her eyes intensify.  "I had to.  It's my life...skiing is in my blood.  There's no way that I wasn't going to get back out there..."

 

"That takes some serious courage, you know that..."

 

She smiles broadly before standing up and walking over to me.  "Thanks..." she says before motioning for me to sit up so that she can reposition the ice lower on my back.  "Ten more minutes..."

 

I sigh and settle back into the couch.  "I hope I didn't ruin any of your plans or anything..."

 

"Plans?" she asks incredulously.  "Please, most of my teammates are scattered throughout Colorado, getting in training time.  I definitely didn't have anything going on."

 

"Still...I'm sure you have better things to do then to take care of a guy that you've known for a little over a week."

 

She laughs lightly at my self-deprecation.  "I can certainly think of better things to do..." she teases before pushing my leg aside and sitting back down.  "But I can't think of better company, if that's what you're getting at."

 

The way her voice drops and her eyes meet mine straight on, I feel like the room is suddenly spinning with a tension that feels suffocating.  Did she just say what I think she did, or am I once again blowing things completely up in my head, rolling her words into what I'm hoping instead of what was intended?

 

"Do you want to watch a movie or something?" I ask, motioning towards the pile of DVD's in the cupboards next to the entertainment system.

 

"Yeah, sure, what do you got?" she asks as she stands up, approaching my collection.  Her fingers gently trace against the spines of the covers, reading the titles out loud.

 

"Anything is fine, really," I answer, shifting again.  Alright, my back is seriously freezing; this must be one hell of an ice pack she's attached to me.  The black wrap is secured snugly against my skin, making sure to hit all of my sore spots.

 

"Michael Clayton?"  Taylor holds the movie out, cocking her hip to the side and I can't help but focus on the gentle curve of her body with that pose.

 

I nod my head, knowing that if I even try to speak, words will completely fail me. 

 

She pops the DVD into the system before coming back to the couch, her eyes eyeing the wrap that is holding the ice in place over my white t-shirt.  "I think you're good with the ice.  Come on, sit up and I will take this off of ya."

 

Moving close to the edge, I turn my body away from her, allowing her hands the freedom to move across my mid-section.  Loosening the wrap, she slips the ice away before gently rubbing her hands across my sore muscles.  "Here, I'm going to put this gel on you, it'll help, I use it whenever I get sore."

 

I nod my head in concession before lifting my shirt up and giving her free reign of the bruised muscles.  Sitting here with Taylor just a couple of inches behind me, my back and stomach exposed to her, I can't stop the charge of electricity that seems to be flowing through my veins.  It's like everything is on high alert, every fiber alive and pulsing with a need...a need that I never expected to find up here in Colorado.

 

Softly, her hands meet the wide expanse of my back, the cool liquid being smeared in circular motions.  Gently, she increases the pressure, kneading my muscles, working the kinks and tension away from my back.  As her hands continue their ministrations, I let my eyes drift close, just concentrating on the feel of her hands against my skin, the tender touches and caresses that she delivers working me into both a relaxed and hyper-aware state-of-being.

 

As her hands continue to grind on my sore muscles, a moan falls from my lips. 

 

"Did I hurt you?" she asks in a rush, halting her movements at the same time.

 

"God no," I breathe out, a state of relaxation settling over me.  "I don't think I've ever felt better..."

 

Her gentle hands continue to apply the pressure my back so desperately needs, working the muscles in a slow grind.  Softly, she pats the spot as she finishes the massage, lowering my shirt back down over the expanse of my back.

 

"That's going to feel a little cool for a while..." she says as she maneuvers away from me, giving me room to turn back around, "but you should feel a little better."

 

"Thanks, Taylor," I tell her, settling back into the couch. 

 

"You're welcome, superstar."

 

I groan at the nickname and she is quick to pick up on my embarrassment.  "Let me guess, you don't like to be called that?"

 

I shake my head, laughing at the same time.  "Not so much, no."

 

"I suppose..." she mumbles as she reaches for a blanket that is draped over the back of the couch.  "it's probably the same way I feel when I get addressed as an Olympian."

 

I quirk my eyebrow at her, knowing I have certainly done it before.  "But you are..."

 

"You know I could say you're a superstar and you'd still fight it too.  I'm really not an Olympian; I haven't won a damn thing other than the World Cups.  I don't have medals from the games in a case anywhere..."

 

I smile at the way she downplays her accomplishments.  It's kind of refreshing to be around someone with similar feelings towards the business.  She's not consumed with the attention surrounding her sport, or even herself.  She's just a normal person with an abnormal career choice.  "You know you're going to have some medals very soon, right?"

 

"Wow, please knock on wood with that statement," she quips back in a playful manner and I smile before wrapping my knuckles across the end table.

 

"So you ready to watch the movie?" I ask, grabbing the remote and settling into the side of the couch cushions. 

 

"Yep."

 

As I hit the button to play the movie, I flick the light switch on the lamp beside me, basking the room in a soft glow from the TV.  Taylor settles deeper into the cushions, lying softly somewhat on her side with her hand propping her head up.  Her legs are tucked up underneath her, the blanket wrapped securely around her body as she focuses on the credits on the screen.  With her attention being diverted to the actors on screen, I am able to just watch her without her knowledge.  I don't know when it happened or how it did, but I realize in that moment how much I have come to rely on her company, her easy going friendship, the ability to soothe me and remind me why I came out here in the first place.  It is people like her that restore my faith in relationships, that make me recognize that not everyone I meet will be out to sink their teeth into me.  Her ability to open up and allow me inside without question has left a warm spot in my heart for this woman sitting just a couple of feet away from me.

 

Suddenly, a strand of hair falls from her ponytail, crossing into her line of sight.  Her hand immediately darts up, tucking the wayward hair behind her ear and my stomach clenches with the need to be that hand.  To brush the hair away, curling my fingers around her cheek in the process.  As quickly as the thought comes, I try to squash this need to close the distance between us...

 

After all, this is Taylor. 

 

The one person that has shown me true kindness without a hint of any underlying motive or aspiration. 

 

It's not that I don't realize how stunningly beautiful and amazing she is... I just know that I am in anything but an ideal position to pursue Taylor in that manner.  After all, anyone that I get close with automatically becomes a target, and the absolute last thing Taylor needs two months before the Olympics is the scrutiny my life would bring upon her.  She doesn't need me interfering in her training, her plans, and her dreams just because I can't seem to get my hormones in check. 

 

I let out a long sigh, and she suddenly turns towards me, her blue eyes connecting with my own.  I force a timid smile, shrugging my shoulders at her and admonishing my inner battle.

 

"Just relaxing..." I mumble, forcing myself to break the eye contact with her watch the movie.  I can't allow myself to keep up that train of thought...really, I can't.

 

"Watch the movie, Justin," she says softly before turning back to the screen, adjusting a pillow next to her side.

 

If only it were that easy, Taylor...

 

Chapter 9

 

Taylor's POV

 

The bright beams from the rising sun break through the horizontal shades, cascading its light throughout the room and jarring me enough from the realm of sleep to bring me back to consciousness.  As I slowly open my eyes, allowing my body the time to acclimate to the intrusion, I push myself up the bed into a sitting position.  The grey comforter and swirling lines is the first thing I notice and I let out a sigh.

 

Recalling the events of last night, immediately my head swirls as I remember taking care of Justin, rubbing his back with my sports crème, cuddling into the opposite corner of the couch as him and falling asleep almost instantly.  I don't even remember yawning or resting my eyes, just waking up in the middle of the night, a blanket tucked tightly up to my shoulders, the TV off and Justin no where in sight. 

 

I have never felt like a bigger idiot than I did than, falling asleep at Justin Timberlake's cabin.  Knowing that I should head home, I quickly folded the blanket and collected my things before heading out into the cool, crisp night air. 

 

So, here I sit safely in the comfort and confines of my own cabin, hoping like hell that I didn't make an even bigger fool of myself last night.

 

Glancing at the alarm clock on the side of the bed, I realize the time and I am set for practice in thirty minutes.  Nearly throwing myself from the bed, I hop into the shower and start gathering my racing equipment.  I barely have enough time to grab some breakfast before loading my Tahoe and heading towards the hill.  Noticing the time, I should have probably called or texted Justin to make sure that he wasn't feeling too sore after that crash yesterday but I am running behind and the last thing that I need right now is the harassment from my coach. 

 

Quickly, I pull into the parking lot of the hill and start unloading my equipment, thankfully my racing skis are already safely stored at the hill, one less thing for me to carry.  Throwing my gear over my shoulder, I toss my cell phone inside, the power turned off and my head tuned into the practice session ahead.

 

"Morning, Taylor," Rob's chirpy voice echoes into the small room that is reserved for us to watch the tapes of my races. 

 

Tossing my gear onto the ground, I throw my body into a chair.  "Morning..."

 

"Well, you're looking like you're ready for this."

 

"Sorry, just a long night I guess."

 

"Well that's understandable; everyone is entitled to those once and a while.  But we really have a lot to cover today, and I am going to need you at full force."

 

I let out a sigh, running my hand through my long hair and tying it back.  "I know, I'm sorry, Rob.  I'll be ready."

 

"Sounds good, Taylor.  I'll let you get changed; meet me at peak 10 on Cimmaron hill.  I have the gates already drawn up for Giant Slalom today."

 

Nodding my head in agreement, I immediately start pulling out my racing suit, shells, and iPod.  For some reason, my head is not in the game and I absolutely need to turn it on before I head out there.  With the Olympics only two months away and the World Cup just right around the corner, I can't afford to be losing focus on the goal ahead.  I need to get my head off the superstar that is quickly becoming a good friend of mine and back on the race of my career. 

 

Scrolling through my racing playlists, I spot the perfect song and hit play, knowing that its hard hitting beats and ability to get me ready for the game is what I need right now. 

 

The world is a vampire, sent to drain.

Secret destroyers, hold you up to the flames.

What do I get, for my pain?

 

Sliding my racing suit on, I snap my shells on and tighten my boots.  The tight grip around my ankles, the feel of the racing material against my skin, the pull of my hat across my hair, all of it helps bring my focus to the hill, toward the practice ahead and away from the superstar in the cabin.

 

Reaching for my iPod, I slide it into the pocket on the outside of my jacket, securing the earbuds and zipping up my jacket.  Locking the door behind me, I walk into the room where my skis and poles are currently being housed and grab them.  Making my way onto the hill, the music drowning out the commotion of the world around me, I quickly make my way up to the hill to where Rob is waiting for me.

 

As I ski over to the starting gate, I pop the skis off and start to shed the extra clothing, making sure to remove my iPod as well. 

 

"All right, we had a great race at the prelims, but to be honest there were certainly some rough spots, Taylor."

 

"Oh I know, I almost crashed and burned.  The sad part is the fact that I train on these hills.  I, of all people, should know the bumps, turns, and lifts of the hill."

 

Rob nods his head, knowing that he doesn't need to chastise me anymore.  I clearly feel the pressure and the need to have a better showing at the World Cup in Austria.  "I've been in contact with the Olympic coach; he wants you ready to leave Breckenridge soon and head up to Vail to train with the rest of the team."

 

"What?" My head immediately snaps in his direction, that is that last thing I expected him to say.

 

"I told him that I felt like we needed more time to train, and he agreed with my methods," he explains.  "I guess it helps when I can say you're the number one ranked women's skier in the world...and well, that usually does the talking for me."

 

I laugh at Rob's ability to make me smile, despite the pressure I am putting on myself.  "Thanks, you know I love you."

 

"Yeah, well, win a gold and we'll call it even."

 

"Trust me, I am working on it."

 

Rob nods his head, a smile on his lips as he prepares the starting gate for me.  "Watch yourself on the inside turns, don't get so far back on the skis, and push harder if you feel yourself getting behind on the turns.  That should help right yourself and keep you on the tips of your skis."

 

I barely acknowledge his advice as I slid into the starting gate, positioning my poles on either side of the time gate. 

 

"We're going to be here all day until we get this right, you got me?"

 

"Yeah, I got it."

 

"Good, give me thirty seconds to get down a bit and then we'll start," he says, immediately pushing his skis away from the gate.  "Good luck, Taylor."

 

As I sit there, my arms outstretched, my fingers clenching and unclenching around the grips of my poles, my goggles secured over my eyes, I take a deep breath, preparing myself for the training ahead.  I need to get this right, so many people are counting on me to show up and put up at the games, and if I can't master these turns on this hill, there's no way I am going to survive Vancouver.

 

Giving myself one final prep talk, I kick up my skis, my shins sliding through the time gate and I start pumping, harder and faster than I ever have.  It's time to get this shit figured out, and it's up to me to put the time, dedication and focus into my career and these races.

 

My training session has lasted well into the evening, each race, each run down the hill being scrutinized to the millionth degree.  Every twist, every turn, all of it has been torn apart and analyzed to further my career, my development as a racer, and I'm mentally as well as physically exhausted.  I haven't trained this hard in a long time.  The constant up and down the hill, the smooth turns of the skis, the sliding and spraying of powder as I push the edges to the limits, all of it has been encased in my mind, pushing away any thoughts other than my runs. 

 

As tired as I am, I needed this day just to keep my head in the game.  The Olympics are a far cry from anything I have competed in so far, and I desperately needed to get my head back into the mindset that I cam here with.

 

"Listen, Taylor..." Rob starts as I remove the layers of racing equipment and throw it all in my bag back in the chalet, "I know you're tired and I couldn't have asked for a better training day out of you, but there's something else I need you to do."

 

I sigh.  "What is it?"

 

"You're scheduled for a press junket in an hour back in the conference room."

 

"A press junket, Rob, really?  I just spent ten hours out on the hill...I'm beat."

 

"I know, and I'll be there with you the whole time.  But the US Team has already sanctioned this meeting, there's nothing I can do."

 

Realizing there's no fighting it and it's a part of the gig, I merely agree just because I am too tired to care either way.  It's not that I hate the press, they haven't really done anything to me other than help generate a good buzz around my races, I am just tired and a press junket this late is the last thing I feel like doing.

 

"Give me a second to change and I'll be right behind you."

 

"Thanks, Taylor."

 

As I fold the remaining pieces of racing gear and tuck them neatly into my bag, I spot my cell phone sitting in the corner.  Reaching for the contraption, I turn it on, setting it on the table as I package up my goggles in their protective bag.  Immediately, my phone buzzes across the table and I grab it.

 

Two new text messages.

 

Thanks for the treatment and therapy session last night.  I'll have you know my back is feeling pretty decent despite the nasty bruise that takes up most of it.

 

I assume you have training today, good luck on the slopes, Taylor.  Give me a shout if you're bored.

 

Tossing on a fleece, I pull my hair out from underneath it and smooth a beanie over my head.  As I head toward the conference room, I make a quick call.

 

"Hello?" the masculine voice answers.

 

"Hey, Justin.  Glad to hear your back is healing."

 

He laughs lightly and it's a nice break from the seriousness of my day.  "Yeah, well, I certainly have done worse.  This is merely just a battle wound."

 

"Oh, I bet."

 

"How's your day, Taylor?"

 

"Hectic, serious, exhausting, still going..."

 

"I'm sorry about that...if it makes you feel any better, I have been bored out of my mind."

 

I laugh, even when he's trying to be serious, the hint of a whine in his voice makes me smile.  "I expected you to suddenly show up on the chairlift sometime, that's your specialty."

 

A hearty chuckle escapes his lips.  "Ahh, well, I figured I'd let you get some decent training in without me showing up, completely coincidental too, by the way."

 

"Whatever you say, Justin.  Listen, I have to run.  I have press to do.  But I just wanted to thank you for a good time last night."

 

"You have press? Now?"

 

"Yeah, trust me, that's the last thing I want to be doing tonight."

 

"Understandable.  All right, well I will let you go.  Good luck in there, Taylor."

 

"Thanks, Justin.  Bye."

 

Snapping my phone closed, I tuck it safely into my pocket before approaching the doors to the conference room.  As soon as I push open the heavy, wooden doors, I am immediately inundated with a couple flashes and at least twenty voices almost immediately speaking at the same time. 

 

"Whoa, there, guys, Taylor will answer all of your questions, just let her get settled.  We've been busy training all day and she's certainly a little tired from the hard work."

 

"Evening everyone," I say into the microphone that is positioned at the front of the room behind a table, Rob sitting to my right.

 

"Taylor, thank you so much for taking the time to do this junket."

 

"Not a problem, I'm glad to be here."  Ok, maybe a little bit of a stretch there...

 

"How are you feeling?  Any injuries or issues that you feel could hinder your performance at the World Cup and subsequently at the Olympics?"

 

I shake my head in response.  "None whatsoever.  I am feeling better than I ever have and I am in the best physical and mental shape for these upcoming races."

 

"Taylor, there's been talk about you training here in Breckenridge and not in Vail with the rest of the team.  Do you have any comments?"

 

"I can say that I absolutely adore my teammates and despite being on two different hills training, I am constantly in contact with them.  I have no ill-will toward anyone.  The reason for my training taking place here in Breckenridge is the ability to just completely focus on my races.  I am away from the outside influences and scrutiny from others, and I think I need that right now."

 

"How do you handle the pressure at such a young-age?" another reporter quips and the questions seem to be coming in rapid-succession.  They certainly aren't wasting time here.

 

"I try not to think about the pressure too much.  The best thing I can do is continue to train and focus on improving each and every race.  And if that doesn't work, I turn to my friends and family, they're more than supportive of my whole career."

 

"Taylor, have you heard about the rumblings of Pop Superstar Justin Timberlake being somewhere up here on vacation.  There had been talk about him actually being at the prelims race."

 

That question seems to jolt me in my chair and my eyes scan the room in a flurry.  Trying my best to mask my surprise at the question, I take a few steadying breaths before answering.  "I have not heard that, no.  And to be honest, I have been too focused on my races to pay attention to the gossip columns."

 

The reporter merely chuckles.  "Of course you have."

 

But the way his eyes linger on me, and the cocky smile that adorns his face, I don't think he believes a word I just said.

 

Thankfully the rest of the press junket returns to the talk about my skiing and I can't help but let out a sigh of relief.  The question about Justin has had me on edge since the moment it was asked, and there's nothing more pressing to me than to let him know about this whole encounter.  As the group disperses, I am immediately rushing down the hallway back to my private room, Rob hot on my heels.

 

"Taylor, wait up, what's got you in such a rush?"

 

"Nothing, Rob," I answer, spinning on my heels as I enter the room and grab my bag, hoisting it up and over my shoulder.  "I'm sorry that I am just running out on you, but I really need to get going...I'm exhausted."

 

"I understand, listen, Taylor, I have a couple of things that I need to take care of in Vail this week.  Will it be a problem if I head up there tomorrow, that way I can be back for training to continue by the weekend?"

 

"No, that's fine, Rob.  I can do some runs on my own."

 

"All right," he answers, a smile on his lips.  "Great job today.  I've never been more proud."

 

I halt my hectic pace for just a second and genuinely look at my coach.  He's been with me since my career began to flourish.  He's pushed me to better myself over and over again, always knowing when to press on and when to back off...he's been the best thing to happen to my career and I owe it all to him.  "Thanks, Rob, for just everything."

 

He gently claps his hand on my shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze before looking me in the eye.  "It's what I'm here for.  Get some sleep!" he says before heading toward the door and out into the hall.

 

As I finish collecting my gear, I immediately take off out the other door and into the cool night air, heading straight for my SUV.  Throwing everything inside, I quickly climb inside and take off up the hills towards Justin's cabin.  Despite my heavy eyelids, sore muscles, and growling stomach, he needs to know about the junket...immediately. 

 

Practically flying up the hill, I pull into his driveway, relieved to see the lights on inside.  Turning the engine off, I hop outside and make my way up to his door.  One deep breath and my hand immediately reaches up to knock on the door.

 

Standing outside, I shift my weight from side to side as I wait for him to answer the door. 

 

"Taylor, what are you doing here?" he asks, the surprise evident in his voice.

 

"I need to talk to you."

 

"Sure, come on in," he answers, opening the door a little wider and allowing me the space needed to walk in. 

 

"I'm really sorry to barge in on you like this, especially so late."

 

"It's no trouble, I was still up," he admonishes my apology.  "Did you want anything to drink, or eat?"

 

"No, I can't stay, I should really get home.  But there was something that was asked at my press junket that I thought you should be aware of."

 

His weary eyes turn toward me, the hesitancy clear as his bright blue orbs take me in.  "What's that?"

 

"A reporter asked me if I had heard about the rumors of you being in the area, even at the prelims."

 

His eyes widen at my news.  "What did you say?"

 

"I lied, of course.  Told them that I was too focused on my racing to be reading the gossip column."

 

His laugh is the last thing I expect as I tell him the news but that's exactly what I get.  "Nice one..."

 

"Aren't you the least bit worried about it?"

 

"Oh definitely.  I just pictured you sitting down reading Us Weekly.  You don't strike me as the type."

 

"It's because I'm not..."

 

"True."

 

"So what are you going to do?" I ask, my hand nervously twitching at my side.  He seems to be awfully calm about the whole thing.

 

"The only thing I can do..." he starts, his hands coming up to run through his golden curls.  "I'm going to make an appearance in California and stop them from wondering about my whereabouts."

 

"You're leaving?" I ask, and the reaction that cuts through me at his words leaves me wondering. 

 

"Only temporarily, just enough to keep the paps guessing."

 

I nod my head, realizing his need to throw everyone off his heels but at the same time I am slightly disappointed in the prospect of him leaving.  He's quickly become an important part to my life here. 

 

"Do you want to come with?"

Chapter 10

 

Justin's POV

 

I have no idea why the hell I just blurted that out, in fact, I feel like a complete idiot for asking Taylor to drop everything here in Colorado to come with me to California for a couple days, just to throw the paparazzi off my trail.  This woman is set to race in the biggest competition around the world and I am trying to drag her away from it all, to what, spend time with me?

 

I don't even understand why I have this insatiable need for her to be there, to be around, but I couldn't stop the words from flying out of my mouth more than I could wait on bated breath for her response.  As crazy as all of this sounds, Taylor makes me feel normal...her unorthodox career, the way she handles the pressure, her ability to just laugh despite everything going on around her, I am fascinated by her, intrigued even.  She keeps me guessing and the last thing I have to worry about with her is a slip of the tongue to the press, she values her privacy just as much as me, and it's nice to find someone that is just as much a public figure that chooses to distance themselves from it all to hold onto that one fraction of a normal semblance. 

 

Taylor is just Taylor...and right now, that's all I need.

 

I just need a friend, nothing more nothing less, but I would have to be blind not to realize the qualities that she possesses would be something I would look for out of a relationship.

 

"You want me to come to California?" Taylor repeats, surprise evident in her tone.

 

"Why not?  It'll be fun; you can see what life is like for me.  After all, we've been firmly planted in your comfort zone; it's time to step up into mine."

 

"Are you crazy?  Delusional maybe?" she says, a hint of playfulness in her eyes.  "Could you imagine what would happen if the press found me in California, ignoring my training as well as attached to your hip?"

 

"Well, I may not be opposed to that idea..." I flirt, a teasing smile on my lips.  She makes it too easy.  "I'll make sure that you're well hidden from the sight of the paps, I can assure you that."

 

"You have lost your mind..."

 

"Come on, Taylor.  It'll be fun, get some time in the sun instead of the snow."

 

She nervously pulls her bottom lip in between her teeth, gnawing on the tender flesh and my eyes are immediately drawn to the action.  Shifting her weight from side to side, her eyes scan the room before landing on me, a hint of a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.  "I am so getting in trouble for this."

 

My eyes immediately widen and the smile grows, flashing my whites in her direction.  "You're serious?"

 

"On two HUGE conditions, Justin, these have to be a part of the deal or there is no way I can go."

 

I chuckle before taking a step closer to her, wrapping my arm around her waist, pulling her into my side. "Name it..."

 

"One, absolutely no one can know that I am there with you...no one!  I can't even begin to explain the backlash that I would be caught up in if this somehow got out that I wasn't in Colorado training.  Two, you will owe me a vacation of my own once I get through these games."

 

I nod my head, smiling down at her before squeezing her close to my side.  "You got yourself a deal, Taylor.  I will call Mike, he's my personal security guard and has been with me since *Nsync to arrange a flight out of here and a detail to get in and out of my addition without attracting too much attention."

 

"And this Mike?  He can be trusted?"

 

I laugh before releasing her from my grasp.  "Oh, yeah, without a doubt."

 

"All right, I can't believe I am doing this, trusting an almost practical stranger, agreeing to ditch everything..."

 

"Hey, I resent that, Taylor," I admonish, turning on my heels and walking into the kitchen, feeling her follow closely behind.  "We're far from strangers...and I promise I will take good care of you."

 

She blushes and it's by far the most adorable thing I have seen in a long time.  There's a sense of openness and vulnerability that she is always so quick to hide, but in this moment, she lets it slip through. 

 

"All right, you win, I trust you.  But we have to be back here by Friday or Rob is going to have my neck.  No excuses.  He will be in Vail taking care of things and I still have to do some kind of training while we're there.  It may not be actual hill time, but I have to hit the gym and get some cardio in or I am personally dragging you with to my meeting with my coach to explain why I didn't win."

 

"Consider it done, Taylor.  Now, how soon do you want to leave?"

 

She taps her fingers on the edge of my kitchen counter, leaning forward on her elbows, her back nearly parallel to the table.  "I'll leave that up to you."

 

"Tomorrow morning, bright and early...I will pick you up around four."

 

She stutters, her mouth hanging wide open.  "Four in the morning?" 

 

"Yeah, is that a problem?"

 

"That is in nearly six hours, Justin.  I haven't packed a damn thing or even arranged anything."

 

I laugh, leaning back against the sink, my ankles crossing and my arms immediately prop my body up against the marble.  "Well, then I suggest you get a move on."

 

"You're obnoxious when you get your way, you know that right."

 

"I have been told that, yes.  Come on, Taylor, you'll have a good time.  It'll be fun to bring you into my world, give you a break from the shutters that protect you up here."

 

She groans before dragging her hands across the smooth surface of the counter, pushing up into a standing position.  "You're almost impossible to say no to, Justin."

 

"I'll have to remember that," I tell her, winking as she rolls her eyes in my direction and spins on her heels back out of the room and towards the door.  "You're leaving already?"

 

"Don't worry, I am all yours the rest of the week," she quips over her shoulders and I try to hide the effect that that statement has on me.  "But if you're going to be picking me up soon, I have a lot to get ready for and a lot of bases to cover," she answers before reaching for the doorknob and pulling it open.

 

I smile as she flips her eyes back to me one last time before walking through the entryway and out to her car.  "See you soon, Taylor."

 

"Night, Justin."

 

(Five hours later)

 

As I make the drive back into town, two coffees balancing precariously in their holders, the night time sky is still alight with its last fervor.  The moon is providing all of the illumination needed to maneuver the twist and turns of the streets and, although I have a general idea in the direction of Taylor's residence, I am still in need of serious directions.

 

Reaching for my cell phone, I quickly dial her number and wait for her voice.

 

"Hello?" a groggy and clearly tired Taylor answers.

 

"Morning, sunshine."

 

"I honestly think I might kill you."

 

I laugh; she's awfully feisty when she's tired.  "Tisk-tisk, Taylor, what would Hollywood do if a certain Olympian murdered said Popstar?"

 

"Clap, cheer, for than the rest of the world would be sure to get the sleep they needed."

 

Turning the corner, I make my way down into her addition and bring the car to a slow crawl.  "I'll remember that, my dear.  Well, ignoring your sarcasm already this morning, I am curious to know which house is yours so we can get a move on."

 

"Lights on outside, house on the right with the tree in the front, brick, and a huge front bay window."

 

Seriously, girls always give directions based on landmarks.  "A house number would be preferred."

 

"17651," she mumbles before disconnecting the line, and I can't help but smile at her less than chipper attitude already.

 

Checking the numbers on the house, I speed up a bit, rounding one last curve in the road before noticing a house with a light on, the beautiful brick architect and the metal plating of the numbers "17651" above the front door.  Pulling into the driveway, I shut off the engine before climbing out and walking to her front door.  Before I can knock, the door is suddenly whipped open and Taylor is standing there in a white Ski Team sweatshirt, tight black yoga pants, her hair piled in a loose mess on top of her head and her bag draped across her shoulder.

 

"Remind me again why I agreed to this and why in God's name we are leaving when it is still dark out?"

 

I chuckle at her banter; she is cute when she's fired up, a side of her that doesn't come out all the time.  I'm used to her easy-going, laid-back personality so this change of pace is both humorous and enlightening all the same.

 

"You agreed to come because you just can't get enough of me and at the same time, you're curious about my life in LA," I explain, cocking my head to the side, daring her to disagree with my assessment.

 

"Slightly curious, that's all.  I mean, let's think about this..." she starts as we come to the back side of the car and I pop the trunk, tossing her bag inside, "you've been living in a lap of luxury for a while now, Justin.  You've spent your days just hanging out on the slopes for the pure enjoyment, and as curious as I am about your life, you're just as interested when it comes to mine."

 

I open the door, halting my movement and propping my hand against the door frame.  "I never said I wasn't," I explain before letting go of the door and climbing inside.

 

After getting situated in the car, I hand Taylor her coffee cup, thankful that the warm liquid and caffeine seems to have calmed her a bit.  Her hands grip the cup firmly between her palms, only bringing it to her lips every few seconds.  The drive to the airport takes a little over an hour, the comfortable silence enough for the two of us.  Despite the early morning wake up call, I can feel a sense of enjoyment coming from Taylor, even though she might not admit it now, there's a part of her that is just as interested in me as I am in her.  And I fully intend to figure that all out this week.

 

"You ready?" I ask as we unload our belongings, tossing them across our shoulders before closing up the car, locking it and walking towards the terminal. 

 

"Are you sure we should just walk in together?" she asks, hesitancy in her steps all the way.

 

"We're going in those side doors to the private jet check in, Mike is currently inside waiting for me," I explain, pointing toward the doors off to the right side of the terminal.

 

The two of us pick up the pace, walking through the sliding doors and immediately I spot the biggest man to currently be sitting in that tiny, uncomfortable and rock hard airport chair.  Walking up behind him, I immediately clasp my hands on his shoulders, squeezing a little harder than necessary.  "Long time no see..."

 

"Not long enough, my friend, not long enough," he teases before standing up, a smile on his face.  "What happened to being on vacation, hiding out in the mountains, no wait, better yet, what happened to those words ‘Mike, take a break, I won't need your assistance for a couple of months?'"

 

"Things change, and I know you love me too much to allow me to make this trip on my own."

 

"I don't get paid enough for this, man," Mike laughs before his head tilts to the side, taking in Taylor's form standing beside me, her head ping-ponging back and forth between us as we bicker.  "And this must be the lovely Taylor Jordan I have heard so much about."

 

She blushes before reaching her small hand out, his grip nearly encasing her entire hand up to the wrist.  "Nice to meet you, sir."

 

"Please, call me Mike, and the pleasure is all mine."

 

"So, now that introductions have been taken care of, what's the plan?" I ask, straightening my bag.

 

"Flight leaves in forty-five minutes.  We'll land actually in San Diego, hoping to avert as much attention as possible, rather than LA.  Security will be there to pick us up and take you back to your place."

 

"Any chance of company along the way?" I ask, Mike clearly knowing I am talking about the paparazzi.

 

"I doubt it.  Trace has been working over time trying to cover for you.  So, I highly doubt they have any clue where you are right now or when you're coming back."

 

I nod my head, shifting my weight from side to side.  "I owe him," I state matter of factly.  It's true; Trace has been one of the few constant support systems in my life from the very beginning.  I never have to worry about anything when it comes to our friendship, he simply has my back and I his.  "Well, let's get this show on the road before the airport gets any busier."

 

"Right this way," Mike motions towards the counter and I barely take a step forward before he reaches his arm out across my chest, blocking me.  "Ladies first, man, ladies always first," he grumbles and Taylor can't help but smile and laugh. 

 

Together, the three of us make our way inside the terminal, checking in and clearing a path through security.  The walk to the gate is made in comfortable conversation, Mike often asking about Taylor's career and I am rabidly listening to her answers, intrigued that for someone her age, she handles the business even better than me.

 

The hype that comes with being in the public eye has certainly taken its toll on me, not to mention my three very public, very messy breakups that have played out for everyone to see.  I can't even begin to explain the disaster that my relationship with Jessica has been, even though I can honestly say that I want nothing to do with her ever again, I realize that running to Colorado has only served to fuel the fire within her.

 

I believe that is one of the main reasons I find myself drawn to Taylor...what you see is what you get when it comes to her, there's no gloss or pretenses to her.  She's not jaded or blinded by the lights and cameras.  She doesn't need the press following her every move to validate her self worth.  In fact, she doesn't want any of that, she's happy just doing what she does best...and that's ski racing.  After spending hours on the hill with Taylor, it's clear that she would be happy even without the attention that her talent has garnished her, she just wants to be on the hill...and that's something that I admire in her.

 

It's something that I am drawn to.

 

"Has anyone told you about what is going on back in California?" Mike asks, his voice dropping to just above a whisper. 

 

Glancing over at Taylor, I notice that she's not really paying much attention to either of us.  "No, I haven't really had my phone on long enough for anyone to get through."

 

He gives me a half-smile, a hint of pity in his eyes all the same.  "I don't blame you, J, but there's some things that you really need to hear."

 

I put my hand up, a physical gesture to stop this entire conversation before it can even begin, before I get irritated all over again.  "Not now, man.  I really just want to get there without having to worry about what is waiting for me on the other side."

 

Mike merely nods his head slightly, realizing that no matter what he says, I am not going to listen right now.  I have no desire whatsoever to be caught up to speed with the havoc and chaos that my disappearance has surely caused.

 

Turning to look at Taylor, she turns her head in my direction and smiles, and for the first time that morning, I forget about all of the ‘what-if's' and probing questions that will surely come up once I step foot back in the state of California.  Because, with someone like Taylor to be there on the other side, for the first time, I think everything's going to be all right.

 

Chapter 11

 

Taylor's POV

 

The flight into San Diego has been filled with a few sparks of conversation and a whole heck of a lot of nervous fidgeting coming from the man beside me.  I swear his leg hasn't stopped bobbing up and down for more than five seconds and the nervous energy that is rolling off of him in waves is starting to make me uneasy.  For someone that claims to have everything under control and who convinced me to accompany him on this trip, he doesn't seem too sure of what we're walking into and that is the absolute last thing that either of us need right now.

 

As we sit in the backseat of a huge black escalade, windows tinted, making it absolutely impossible for anyone to see inside or possibly snap pictures of us, I let out a sigh of relief once the car pulls closer to his house.  His constant fidgeting and tense body language is really beginning to grind on my nerves and I need to get out of this enclosed space with him.

 

"Are we close?" I ask, my voice barely above a whisper, scared that I might possibly startle him more than he already seems to be.

 

Turning to look at me, he smirks and with a huge intake of breath, pushes out a huge blast of anxiousness.  "Yeah, we are."

 

"Good," I answer, my eyes shifting back to the coastal views flying by.

 

Mike easily maneuvers this bulky SUV up the hills of the beautiful coastline and I can't help but watch in amazement at the stunning scenery.  I have become so accustomed to the pristine white powder, the glazed over trees, and the crystal icicles that cloud over my everyday life that I am in awe at the crashing blue waves, untouched sand and warming sun of Southern California.  Taking in as much of the beauty this place has to offer, I can't seem to tear my eyes away from the sights outside until suddenly, I feel the car come to a halt at the bottom of a hill.

 

Reaching out to punch in a code, Mike waits for the gate to open before continuing the trek up the side of this cliff. 

 

"Hey, Justin, a bit of a warning, there has been paps stationed throughout the compound. You might want to reel her in a bit," he says, motioning towards me in the rearview mirror.

 

Suddenly, I feel Justin's hands snake around my waist, pulling me away from the window and closer to the center seat.  My eyes immediately snap in his direction, confused by his gesture.

 

"In case someone gets close to the car, their flash could illuminate the inside enough to capture your picture if you're that close."

 

I gulp.  "Really?"

 

"Yeah," he says, a hint of sadness in his voice.

 

Quickly, I slide myself over, firmly planting myself next to his side and away from the windows.  Like clockwork, the closer we get to his house, the more nervous Justin becomes and I can't stop myself from reaching over, my hand wrapping around his bouncing knee.

 

"You have to stop that," I whisper, squeezing his knee.

 

He chuckles before a small smile tugs at the corners of his mouth and he lets out another gust of air.  "Sorry, Taylor."

 

Just as I am about to respond, immediately my eyes dart around Justin to the two men sitting on the hood of a car, their cameras around their necks and the way they practically sprint off towards our car.  I flinch, pushing back in my seat at their sudden movement despite the fact that they can't get to us in here, I am slightly taken aback at their brashness and they way they seem to be stalking his house.

 

"Is this for real?" I ask as their cameras go off in rapid succession.  "They're camped outside of your house, Justin."

 

"Unfortunately, Taylor," he begins as Mike pulls the car into his house, through the winding road of his driveway and the rows and rows of landscape that block the house from their view, "this is nothing compared to what it can be."

 

I snap my head in his direction at his answer.  Sure, I have dealt with the press, the prying questions that sometimes even I don't want to answer, but the sports press is nothing to what a celebrity apparently deals with.  "I don't even know what to say, Justin."

 

He shrugs off my words as Mike brings the car to a halt and he pops open his door.  "We're home..."

 

As I slide towards the open door that he is currently holding for me, I scan the lush property that he calls his own.  The beautiful landscape, the budding trees, the lush blooms, and the immaculate architecture that is his house, the sheer size of the property, it's awe-inspiring.  All of it is completely overwhelming and I can't help but stare up at it in amazement. 

 

With my jaw practically falling open on the floor, Justin comes up to my side, leaning in close to my ear.  "I take it you like it?"

 

"This is beautiful."

 

He smiles broadly before walking in front of me, his bag around his shoulder and Mike hoisting my own over his shoulder.  Running up behind them, I fall in to step as the three of us enter Justin's house and if I was surprised by the beauty that was the outside, I am floored to speechlessness at the view from inside.  From the pristine hardwood floors to cherry woodwork, sterling silver accents, plush leather furniture, gigantic entertainment systems, and the stone fireplace, all of it looks like something out of a magazine and I can't believe he calls this place home.

 

"Holy shit, you're really slumming it back at the cabins in Colorado."

 

Justin drops his bag near the stairs leading to the upper-half of the house before turning towards me.  "I definitely don't think of it like that.  I love that cabin."

 

"Yeah, but just look at this..." I begin, motioning throughout the open room, "I don't even have words to explain your house, Justin."

 

He tries to downplay the beauty and immaculate condition of his house, easing my own discomfort at being brought into such a lifestyle outside of my own while at the same time trying to maintain that connection back to Colorado.  "Thank you, but there is certainly more to see and we should get you settled in."

 

Just then, Mike comes back down the stairs, slapping Justin on the back as he goes by.  "Taylor, your bag has been placed in the guest bedroom down the hall."

 

"Mike, you really didn't have to do that."

 

He waves me off.  "It was my pleasure," he says, turning towards Justin.  "J, let me know if you need me.  I will be here in twenty minutes tops.  Otherwise, I will let you both get settled."

 

"Thanks, Mike," we both say in unison before laughing.  Mike just shakes his head at the two of us before walking back toward the front and closing the door behind him.  Standing there in this massive structure, Justin just a few feet in front of me, I can't help but feel a little out of place. 

 

"Well, let me show you your room," he says, turning around and heading up the stairs.

 

Quickly I follow behind, often peaking inside the rooms as we go by and he explains the layout of the house.  After being shown the bathroom, he brings me to a stop at the last door on the left.  "This is your room for the time being."

 

Opening the door, immediately my eyes are drawn to the center of the room, the cherry oak sleigh bed with a plush, feather white comforter and pillows.  It's absolutely breathtaking.

 

Knowing that my mouth is hanging wide open, I step inside cautiously, my feet padding over the cream colored carpeting.  The room is clad in a contrasting mix of bright whites and deep cherry oak, everything placed neatly and specifically in order to pull together the whole room.  The huge window is draped in a sheer white curtain, the wardrobe closet has a few knick-knacks on the top, and the door leading to the closet where my bag is currently resting beside, is closed before Justin reaches to prop it open. 

 

"You're welcome to use whatever you need and if there's anything missing, just let me know..."

 

I am stunned into speechlessness.  Without thinking, I walk towards him and wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him in close for a hug.  "I take back everything I said this morning...because this place is amazing."

 

With his arms wrapped around my waist, he gives me a squeeze before releasing me from his grasp.  "I'm glad you like it."

 

My head spins around the room one last time, taking everything in.  "I love it."

 

"Good, well, I am just going to unpack quick.  My room is just across the hall.  Once you're settled in, we'll get some lunch?"

 

"Yeah, that sounds good." 

 

With a smile, Justin turns to leave me alone in the room and I reach for my bag, hoisting it up and pulling the contents out.  Unpacking doesn't take me that long, knowing that we were only going to be here for a couple of days, I didn't bother to put too much thought into what to bring other than a few pairs of jeans, shorts, and some shirts.  After all, we're mostly going to be camped out here; at least I will be, while Justin calms the storm that is the press.  As I hang the last shirt, I close the closet and slide my bag off to the side at the bottom.  Quickly changing out of the clothes that we flew in here with, I slip on a pair of jeans, a t-shirt, a hoodie and a pair of flip flops.  Brushing through my hair, I twist it back into another loose ponytail at the back of my neck.

 

Deciding to find Justin, I walk out of the room and toward the door across the hall which is slightly ajar.  Immediately, I am halted by his voice.

 

"Johnny, this absolutely cannot happen.  I don't care what we have to do but you cannot let her get away with this..."

 

Confusion sweeps over me in that instant and I am frozen to the spot just outside the door, leaning closer to his voice. 

 

"What is she after?  My fame?  She can have it...if I could physically give it to her I would."

 

A loud clank of something flying across the room and connecting against the wall makes my heart thunder loudly in my chest.  What the hell is going on?  As my heart continues to beat furiously in my chest, a chill runs up my spine at the next words that come out and the venom behind his voice. 

 

"I hate her."

 

Realizing that I am invading his privacy and knowing that the last thing I should be involved in his is personal affairs, I quickly spin on my heels, trying to get away from my spot next to his door.  However, as I turn, I am completely knocked off balance trying to get away as stealthily as possible and instead go crashing into the opposite wall with a thunk.  Completely mortified, I stumble up, bracing myself against the wall and trying to get the hell out of that hallway as fast as possible but before I can even right myself, Justin is standing at the door, his eyes wide and chest pounding. 

 

He scans over the position I quickly find myself in and I know he knows exactly what I just heard.  "Are you ok?"

 

"Yeah, I'm fine," I answer, feeling the heat slide up my cheeks in total embarrassment and shame.  "Listen, I didn't mean to..."

 

He quickly cuts me off.  "It's fine.  Are you ready for some lunch?"

 

"Ye...yeah."

 

He smiles, stepping into the hallway and closing the door behind him.  Gently, he reaches down, grasping my hand and pulling me into a standing position next to him.  As the two of us walk the rest of the way through the hallway, we head back down the stairs to the main level and Justin reaches for his car keys on the counter. 

 

I halt, mid-stride.  "We're leaving...without Mike...with them outside."

 

Justin continues to walk toward the garage door, not even stopping to ponder my question.  "Yeah, that's kind of the point of the trip, Taylor.  I need to be seen here."

 

"I know it is, but you're going to be with me..." I explain and when he looks at me innocently, I just blurt the rest of it out.  "You're going to be seen with me and I can't be in the magazines, Justin."

 

He opens the door to the garage and flicks the unlock button on his car.  "You won't, Taylor.  Trust me."

 

Giving him the once over and deciding to put my faith in him, I walk outside and into the awaiting vehicle.  Hopping inside, Justin comes around to the other side and we buckle in as he flicks open the garage door.  Pulling away from the comfort and security of the house, we make our way back through his property, this time departing from a side gate and away from the prying eyes of the paparazzi out front.

 

"A little heads up would've been nice to this secret passageway."

 

"A little more faith in my ability to keep you safe would be nice too."

 

I blush, he does have a point.  The car quickly makes its way through the hills and down through the streets below.  Despite the heavy tinting, Justin's car is easily recognized by several fans and a few screams can be heard from outside as we drive by.  Thankfully, he's moving too quickly through the traffic for anyone to really get a shot of him or me in the car.  Justin doesn't even seem to be fazed by the hysteria that he creates just by driving by someone and for the first time, I am beginning to see what his life is really like.

 

And I'm not so sure that I like it.

 

"I hope you're hungry," his voice breaks through the silence of the car as he pulls into the back alleyway of a local restaurant. 

 

Together, we step outside of the car after he pulls it to a stop and head inside.  I would be lying if I didn't say I am a little nervous being in downtown LA, without any bodyguards, and Justin next to me, but for the first time since we landed, he seems to be in control of the situation, so I force myself to just relax and have a good time.

 

We find a booth near the back, semi-shrouded in darkness and protected from the main half of the building and other patrons that currently crowd the dinning area.  Sliding in opposite of Justin, I cross my legs under the table and place my hands on my lap.

 

"So, what do you want to do while we're here?" he asks.

 

I shrug my shoulders.  "It really doesn't matter, Justin.  I am fine staying at your house if you have things you need to take care of.  I totally understand."  I know I probably shouldn't even breach this subject, but I can't get the tone of his voice and the absolute coldness of those words.

 

"Ahh...yes, you're probably wondering about the phone call," he states matter-of-factly. "I'm sorry you had to hear that."  Leaning back, the waitress comes to the table, placing a couple of menus and glasses of water before asking if we need some time, and we both nod our heads in agreement.

 

"Listen, I know I am in no place to judge, and to be honest, you don't have to explain anything to me.  I just think whatever it is that you need to deal with here would be better dealt with without me."

 

"Taylor, I wouldn't have brought you to California if I didn't intend to spend time with you."

 

At the sincerity of his voice and the way his blue eyes connect with mine, I can feel the truth behind his words and a warmth starts to spread throughout my chest.  "Thanks, Justin."

 

He smiles up at me and the two of us settle into a comfortable conversation at the table, just enjoying one another's company and the nice lunch.  For the most part, Justin is able to have lunch without interruption and it's not until we're walking back toward the car that he gets stopped by a young girl who looks no older than eleven or twelve.  Graciously, he bends down and signs a piece of paper for her and as I watch him interact with this young fan, I can't help but feel my heart begin to soften a little more for the man that has just suddenly shown up in my life.

 

Confused and a little worried by the new found feelings that seem to be developing, I turn away from the scene in front of me and walk through the doors back to Justin's car.  I need to get my head screwed on straight because the last thing that I need is to be falling for someone so unattainable right now.  I just don't have the time or even the desire to complicate my life with something so volatile as love, and certainly not from Justin Timberlake either.  Running my hand through the hair hanging over my shoulder, I take a deep breath, trying to clear my head and just as I open my eyes again, Justin walks out of the building, a hint of a smile on his face.

 

"I want to show you something..." he says, unlocking the car and getting inside.

 

Slightly confused, I merely follow his lead.  Together, we drive down the boulevard, weaving in and out of the traffic as the sun begins to drop off in the horizon.  The setting sun casts the road in a bath of golden light and I can't help but take it all in.  The warmth that surrounds this place is contagious and I find myself enjoying the California sun a little more than I ever thought possible.

 

"Where are we going?" I ask, turning in my seat and taking in the view of Justin leaning back in the leather seat.  His face is shrouded by the black sunglasses, a baseball cap on his head, hiding his infamous curls, and his hand is lying casually across the top of the steering wheel. 

 

He tilts his head toward me.  "You'll see," he says, pulling into a parking lot and shutting the engine off.  "Come on."

 

Quickly he gets out, waiting for me at the back of his car before reaching for my hand and pulling me into the side entrance of an unmarked building.  As we walk through the halls, I tighten my grip on his hand, a little nervous as to what we're doing in this quiet building, completely alone.

 

"What is going on?" I ask just as he pushes through two-double doors and inside I am hit with the sight of a large recording studio.  The control boards wrap from one corner to the next, at least a million buttons placed throughout and behind that board is the glass that separates the booth from the control room.  Looking around, immediately I spot the awards hanging on the wall, the gold and the platinum discs, the trophies signaling Justin's ascent into superstardom.

 

"What do you think?" he asks as he steps into the room, pulling out a chair for me and sitting down in the one next to it.

 

"Is this where you record your stuff?"

 

He starts fidgeting with the buttons on the board, bringing the machine to life in front of me.  "Yeah, for the most part.  It's where I recorded my last album and where I have been working on my new stuff too."

 

I reach for the seat, sitting down and leaning in toward the board.  "You have new stuff coming out?"

 

He smirks.  "Yeah, I have some stuff recorded and I will continue to work on it when I get back from Colorado.  But I want to have a new album ready to go by the end of this year."

 

"That's awesome!"

 

"You want to hear some of it?" he asks, and I can tell just by the look in his eye and the nervous twitching of his leg that that question is loaded in more ways than he wants to admit.

 

"Sure, whatever you want to share, I am willing to listen."

 

Hitting some buttons, the speakers start to come to life and I sit back in my chair, pulling my legs up towards my chest and Justin continues to pound away on the board.  Suddenly, the sweet sing-song voice of the man beside me starts to filter through the speakers in a slow melody.  The guitar riffs blend in beautifully with his voice and there is a desperate, painful tone to the song.  The lyrics suddenly hit me and the more I listen, the further I realize that there is more to this man than I ever imagined.  The song depicts a woman who has trashed him, abused him emotionally, and that has worked him over in front of the world and suddenly, the phone call from earlier pops into my head. 

 

Sitting up, my eyes travel over to look at Justin, his eyes downcast and focused on the machine in front of him.  His shoulders seem to slump inward and the way his head is hanging, I know that there is so much that I don't understand and probably never will.  But I know, in that moment, there is a whole lot of him that I want to know.  Without thinking, I pull my chair closer to his, reaching my hand out and letting it rest on his forearm.  

 

"Whatever it is that has made you run to Colorado, I'm sorry that they were too foolish to realize exactly what they had when they had you.  But I can't possibly apologize and mean it fully because otherwise, I never would have been given the opportunity to meet you."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 12

 

Justin's POV

 

I've been through a lot in the time I have spent in the business, years upon years of constant work, tiresome studio sessions, dance rehearsals, tour prep, and hours upon hours of time in front of the camera.  Everything about my life has been laid bare, open to the public to gaze in, look around and convey their opinions when it comes to my music, my movies, my dress, and even the relationships that I surround myself with.  My life has always been an open book for anyone and everyone to offer up their two cents, and despite the effort I have put forth to close some of it off, to keep parts of my life private, I have yet to succeed. 

 

And as I sit in the enclosed space of my recording studio, Taylor's hands running a soothing loop of circles across my forearm, her words ringing in my ears, I have never wanted to keep something so private as I do when it comes to the relationship forming between Taylor and I.  Never in a million years did I think running off to Colorado would bring me face to face with a world class skier and future Olympian, and never in those million years would I dream of befriending someone in her position.

 

Taylor brings a dangerous unpredictability to my life that if I am being honest, I absolutely don't need right now.  Her stature and the fact that her life is about to pick up steam, people are going to want to meet her, see her race, interview her, and certainly want to know her.  Being that I am trying so desperately to just hold my own life together, I am precariously playing with fire the closer and closer her I bring her into my world.

 

But the more I get to know her, the more I want to know.

 

Taylor has this openness, this care-free aurora that surrounds her at all times, and the genuineness in her eyes calms the fears that are telling me to run.  And I know that it's not Taylor that generates this flight reaction in myself, it's so much more, it's the life experiences that have shown me just how dangerous a woman can be.

 

And I would be blind not to see the woman that Taylor is.

 

But I've been there and done that when it comes to a physical attraction and I've certainly been burned by falling into that trap.  However, I refuse to categorize Taylor into that group because she's so much better.  Taylor is warm and genuine, her ability to make me laugh and smile with her banter, and the way she can pull me out from under the drama and pressure that constantly encompasses my life at the moment is exactly what I need.

 

Therefore, sitting in this space, realizing that there is much more under the surface to the friendship that has developed certainly has me on edge.  I have no idea how to process what the hell is going on right now, but I am for certain of one thing, Taylor has brought out a side of me that I have been trying to suppress for a long time.

 

"Thanks, Taylor," I answer, letting my eyes lift up to meet her own.  "You might not realize how much that really does mean to me, especially coming from you."

 

She smiles crookedly and releases her hands from my arm, leaning back again in the chair.  As quickly as the mood became serious, she is able to switch it back to her playful ways in the snap of a finger.  "You're welcome and for the record, if the rest of your album sounds like this, it's going to be a monster hit, Justin."

 

"You think so?"

 

"Without a doubt..." she says matter-of-factly.  "I'm hoping that you will hook me up with some new material before I head up to Vancouver though.  I can always use some new warm-up music."

 

I laugh, waving my hand dismissively.  "Consider it done, Taylor."  Reaching forward, I turn off the music, pushing a few more buttons and powering down the massive control board in front of the two of us.  "So, you ready to head home?"

 

Stretching her arms above her head, my eyes are immediately drawn to the small expanse of skin that shows when her shirt rises.  Trying to clear my head from the image the suddenly popped into my head, I shake my head quickly, pushing down those thoughts before they get out of hand.

 

"Yeah, I am actually.  Don't take this the wrong way, I have loved seeing your house, getting lunch in Hollywood, seeing where you record your music, and getting a glimpse at all of the awards and recognition for your career but if I am being honest, the only thing I really want to do is sit my ass on a couch and get some rest.  Four in the morning, Justin, is absolutely ridiculous."

 

I laugh.  "I bet you're up earlier than that for your races..." I answer, standing up and leading the way back toward the door, opening and holding it wide for her.

 

"Does it look like I am racing right now?  Nope, pretty sure I am on vacation and no one in their right mind gets up that early when they are on vacation."

 

She walks past me and through the door before I follow, locking the door behind me.  "I would hate to see what you're like when you actually do get time off, you know, like time laying on the beach, hanging with your family and friends, you're probably still sleeping at noon."

 

"You're damn right I am," she jokes, smiling up at me.  "I'll let you know how it goes once I get back from Vancouver."

 

"Have you forgotten what life is like after the Olympics?  You'll be doing so much press, showing off your medals."

 

Suddenly she stops, her hand jutting out and playfully smacking me in the arm.  I reach for the spot where she just connected, rubbing it tenderly.  "What the hell was that for?"

 

"Go knock on some wood...right now," she commands, pointing toward a tree in the parking lot.  "I am not a very superstitious person, Justin, but the hell if I am not going to take every precaution there is in the book.  Speaking of winning medals even before I get through the World Cup, you're out of your mind."

 

I laugh, walking over to the tree and tapping on it twice for good measure.  "Happy?"

 

"It'll do."

 

I can't help the smile that takes over my face, in the span of about ten minutes, Taylor has made me feel almost every emotion possible...happiness, apprehension, confusion, protectiveness, laughter, and faith. 

 

As we get back into the car and make the short trek back to my place, I choose to forgo the side entrance so as not to draw attention to the secret alleyway out of my complex and into the side street below.  Knowing that the paparazzi got a glimpse of the SUV earlier, I should have a fairly clear pathway back to my house, being that they have probably disappeared to go torture some other soul.  Pulling the car closer to the driveway, I can see Taylor begin to tense beside me and without thinking about it, I reach my hand out, intertwining her fingers in my own and sliding our clasped hands onto my leg. 

 

"Trust me, remember?" I whisper, glancing quickly to gauge her reaction.

 

Surprisingly, the gesture seems to calm her a bit and I watch as she takes a deep breath, pushing her thoughts to the side.  "Won't they be outside again?"

 

"I highly doubt it.  They think I have been locked up in the house for hours, they've surely moved on by now."

 

Just then, I make the final turn around the bend and notice that there is not one car or passerby in sight.  We're all clear.

 

"See?" I ask as I pull the car to a stop at the gate, typing in the code and making the drive up the pathway and back into the garage.

 

"You're right," she says, reaching for the handle, pulling it open and stepping out.

 

"About what?" I ask, following her lead and heading toward the door. 

 

"I need to trust you more."

 

I smile, that's all I've ever really wanted to hear from her.  Trust has always been something that I have willingly given; even to complete strangers, I guess that is how I have been burned so many times before.  Desperately, I want to see the good in everyone, believing that they aren't out to tear me apart, and it's disappointing that hasn't been the case most of the time.

 

"Sometimes you know exactly the right thing to say, Taylor."

 

She smiles as she passes through the open door, walking into the kitchen and into the big, open expanse that is the living room.  As she sits down, she pulls out her cell phone and a grimace takes over her face.  Leaning against the counter, I peer over her, knowing that whatever she just read can't be good. 

 

"What's wrong?"

 

Her eyes snap up toward me and she cocks her head to the side.  "It's Rob.  He wants to know how training is going?"

 

"You should give him a call so that he doesn't worry about you, or even worse, come back early."

 

"Yeah, you're right."

 

"All right, well I will be outside, give you some privacy."  I don't bother to wait for a response; instead I turn on my heels and walk toward the sliding glass door.  Heading into the backyard, I can't help but take a deep, cleansing breath. 

 

The warm California sun is departing with each second that goes by and I can already feel the cool breeze of the night come through and wrap me up in its clutches.  The gentle sway of the wind brings with a flurry of emotions and thoughts, everything spinning quickly in my head, and I walk further into the yard toward the baseketball court.  Reaching down, I grab one of the basketballs and begin the soothing pound against the pavement. 

 

Playing ball, whether competitively or with friends or even by myself, has always been a cathartic release for me and I smile as I find myself out on the familiar court once again.  Pulling the ball up, I aim for the net and shoot it, watching as it swishes effortlessly through.  Chasing after the ball, I continue the rhythmic dribbling, letting my hands do the work as my head drifts off with thoughts of the woman inside my house.

 

There's so much about Taylor that draws me in, like a moth to a flame, I find myself wanting to be near her, spending time with her.  She's a breath of fresh air, untainted by the lifestyle with wide open eyes to the world around her.  Taylor brings me a sense of security that has been absent for much of my life these past few months.  She consistently surrounds herself with the people that are supportive, trusting and willing to do whatever it takes to help her succeed in life...something I have been trying to get back to. 

 

My life hasn't ever really been stable, probably not since pre-*NSync days, and although I have been blessed to live this lifestyle, getting the opportunity to perform in front of millions, I never thought I would sign away what little bit of privacy that I have tried so desperately to hold onto. 

 

But that's exactly what is looming on the horizon...

 

Thanks to her.

 

I have been manipulated, cheated on, lied to, and made a fool of, all because one person has lost touch with reality.  I have opened myself up to someone, without questioning their intentions, believing that what lies were being spewed from their lips were the truth.  I believed it all...hook, line, and sinker.  And now I am paying the price.

 

I have set myself up for the biggest fall from grace, not on my own accord, but on someone else's desire for what I have.  If I could go back in time, change everything, there's no question that I would.  But unfortunately, that is not the case, and that leaves me with no option but to either comply with their demands or suffer the consequences.

 

And suffering the consequences is not an option.  I refuse to let those innocent people in my life, my friends, my family...I cannot stand idly by and watch them get destroyed simply because of their connection to me. 

 

I won't.

 

And that choice leaves me with the only other option...to go along with someone else's idea of what my life should be.

 

"So, are you going to actually shoot the ball?  Or just hold it?" the familiar voice quips from the sideline and I can't stop the smile from crossing my face.

 

"I haven't decided yet..."

 

"Well, it is getting darker with each second that you think about it.  Eventually you'll run out of light."

 

"I'll just flip on the outdoor lights around the court."

 

She sputters to a halt on the court.  "You have this place lit up like a firework, don't you?"

 

I grin.  "It's possible."

 

She merely shakes her head as she walks closer, coming to a halt right in front of me and the closeness of her body has me a little on edge but before I can process her movements, she rips the ball from my grasp.

 

"How about a little game?" she says, dribbling the ball with both hands, looking more like a five year old than the confident Olympian that she is.

 

"I'm listening," I answer, walking toward the side of the court, reaching for the power board and hitting the switch, illuminating the court in a bright light, merely so that I don't have to mess with it once the sun fully drops from the sky for the night.

 

"Cute," she jokes, looking around at the court.  "How about a game of HORSE?"

 

A smirk forms at the corners of my mouth.  "And your terms?"

 

"Hmm..." she ponders, "For every shot that I make and you don't...you have to answer some more questions."

 

"And for every shot that I make and you don't?" I ask, knowing full well what her answer already is.

 

"I'll answer your questions," she says, dribbling the ball once again.  Watching her drop the ball, both palms flattening around the surface on the kick-back, I realize just how unfair this game is going to be.  I'm going to beat her in five shots...that means five questions...and I won't have to answer anything either.  Maybe not a bad gig...

 

"Deal," I answer, reaching my hand out and shaking hers, sealing her fate.  "Ladies, first...I've learned from Mike, as you can see."

 

She turns toward me, letting out a laugh before walking closer to the basket and banking a shot off the backboard from just a couple feet away.  "I figured I would go easy on ya."

 

"Give me your best shot, Taylor," I answer, walking closer to the net and making the same shot without much effort at all.

 

She nods her head appreciatively before grabbing the ball, walking toward the opposite side and behind the three-point line off on the right side.  "Are you sure you want-" I begin, but shut my mouth the minute she flips the ball in her grasp, spinning it on her middle finger.  The ball turns effortlessly and smoothly on top of her finger, and my breath catches in my throat when I notice the cocky smile adorning her face.

 

"What the?" I question, confusion clearly evident.

 

Without so much as a word, she pulls the ball back and throws it toward the net with as much finesse as a pro would.  And it swishes...right through the net. 

 

"You hustled me?" I ask in disbelief.  "You actually fucking hustled me?"

 

"Oh, please, I did no such thing," she answers, grabbing the ball and tossing it to me.  "I merely capitalized on your lack of knowledge when it comes to my life."

 

"Hustled," I reiterate, grabbing the ball and attempting the same shot.  As I toss the ball, the mortification as it swirls around the rim and pops out immediately seeps in, and I don't even want to look at the smug look on Taylor's face.

 

"Ahhh...was that a miss?  I believe that gives you an ‘H' and me a question to ask," she teases, walking up to where she wants to make her next shot. 

 

"What's your most embarrassing moment?  Either on stage, at a show, or in everyday life?"

 

I let out a sigh of relief, obviously she's starting easy, but either way, I'll take it.  I don't know how willing I am to play this game, when it's me doing the answering.  "That's a pretty simple question."

 

"Then you should have a simple answer..."

 

I breathe deep and prepare for the humiliation this answer is about to bring me.  "I was sixteen years old and, oh man, I can't believe I am telling you this."

 

"I'm waiting..." she mocks, jutting her hip out. 

 

I laugh at her playfulness and realize that I might as well get it over with.  "Anyways, yeah, I was sixteen and thinking awfully high of myself...and, ahem, my abilities."  I can feel the heat rising into my cheeks and Taylor is just watching me in amusement.  "Anyways, I had just got done...ehh...yeah...umm...you know."

 

Glancing at her, I can already see the horns sprouting up from her head.  "You're going to need to be specific, Justin.  I don't know what you're talking about."

 

"Oh, come on, Taylor..."

 

"Just say the damn word, Justin."

 

Looking at her hard, I throw all caution to the wind and just blurt it out.  "All right, I had just got done having sex and the girl had been so vocal in my car that someone must have called the police to make sure everything was ok."

 

Taylor's hand flies up, covering her mouth in amusement.  "What happened?"

 

"The officer knocked on the window, asking us if we were ok and once he saw our state of undress, he gave me a lecture on public indecency."

 

"No way." She's laughing hysterically at my blush and moment of pure embarrassment. 

 

"It gets worse.  The cop felt the need to follow us home, making sure that nothing scandalous happened on his watch.  Needless to say, mom and dad had a huge talk with me after that."

 

As I finish my story, Taylor is practically buckled over in two, laughing hysterically at my moment of shame.  "That is by far, one of the best things I have ever heard."

 

"Yeah, yeah..." I answer, a smile on my face.  "Let's keep it moving, shall we?"

 

After composing herself and lining up again, Taylor pulls the ball back and lets it fly with the same ease as previous and I watch in horror as the ball squeaks through effortlessly once again. 

 

"Hustled," I mumble as I bring the ball to her spot and follow suit, tossing the ball toward the net.  I watch as the ball crashes against the backboard and then the rim, falling off to the side.

 

"Ahhhh...another one.  This game could get interesting, and fast," she says, a hint of cockiness laced in her words.  "What's the one thing that you know you couldn't live without?"

 

I take a moment, shuffling through the possibilities but settling on the one thing that seems to matter the most to me.  Another safe question, another safe answer.  "My mom."

 

"Really?" she asks, her eyebrow raised.  "Care to explain?"

I realize that just elaborating on that answer opens up a huge door of possibilities and certainly a little bit more of my life.  But when the fear tries to take hold, I push it down, knowing that I can explain this and not worry that Taylor is being anything other than genuine.  Gently, I begin to nod my head in acquiescence.  "It's not that I can't live without her, it's that I don't ever want to.  I realize there will probably come a point in my life where I simply don't have the choice.  But my mom has been the one person in my life, the one constant that has my back no matter what, that loves me and would protect me at all costs.  I don't ever have to explain anything to her, she just gets me, and I absolutely would do anything for her," I explain, running my hand through my hair and looking up toward the hoop to avoid her prodding eyes.

 

Taylor is standing there, completely dumbfounded by my answer, her jaw hanging open slightly.

 

"It's your shot..." I tell her, a hint of a smile on my lips.

 

"Ugghh...yeah, yeah it is."  Obviously I have left her a little flustered and she quickly shakes her head, trying to re-gain her focus. 

 

However, this time, when she takes her shot from the left side of the court, I watch in victory as the ball runs the rim and falls off the side instead. 

 

"Ahh...she is human," I quip, grabbing the ball and lining up a shot of my own.

 

Taylor just laughs, running her hand through her long, blonde hair, fluffing it a bit over her shoulder and pulling it out of her way. 

 

As I grip the ball and project it forth to the basket, I feel it slip through my fingers, the rough leather texture spinning off my fingertips and I know instantly, it's going in.

 

We both watch as the ball clears the net and I spin towards her, collecting the ball as I prepare my question.  "What's the one thing you can't live without, Taylor?"

 

"Hey, I still have a chance to make that shot..." she points out.

 

"You're already up two.  This is a freebie in my favor."

 

"Do you always cheat?" she asks.

 

"Depends on the situation."  I wink and wiggle my eyebrows.  "Now, answer the question, Taylor, what can't you live without?"

 

"You don't mess around, do you, Justin?  Going straight for the big guns."

 

"You know it.  I only have so many questions and I plan to use my time wisely."

 

She tilts her head to the side, nodding it before composing an answer.  "It's going to sound cliché.  But I honestly can't live without skiing.  Does that make me sound like a bad person, you know, you say your mom and I fire back with a sport?"

 

"Not if that's the truth."

 

"It is."  She sighs and it's like the weight of the world is released in that one, simple movement.  "Skiing has always been there for me...it doesn't matter what is going on around me, what kind of chaos is circling, I haven't ever turned to it and it reject me or push me away.  It's my comfort and my security.  So I honestly don't think I would be the person I am today without it, nor do I think I would continue to be this person without it."

 

I stand there, shocked by her answer but reveling in the truth and honesty that she just displayed. 

 

"Your shot..."

 

She motions to the board and I take a step back, gripping the ball once again firmly in my palms and launching it, watching as it swishes once again. 

 

Walking toward me, Taylor takes the ball, giving it a few good dribbles on the ground before positioning herself and making the same shot.

 

The disappointment is clear the minute the ball leaves her grip, and I find a sick sense of self-worth watching as she misses.

 

"Fire away, Justin..." she says, sarcasm clearly lacing her words. 

 

I take a minute to think, knowing that I can either ease up on her or get to know what really makes Taylor tick.  And the more time I spend with her, the more I want to know the woman behind the title.  So, I take a deep breath and go for another difficult question but one that certainly peaks my curiosity.  "What's your biggest disappointment?"

 

Her head snaps up in my direction and her eyes widen.  "You're really not messing around, are ya?"

 

"Nope."

 

"All right, fine..." she takes a deep breath and lets out a sigh.  "I could say that my biggest disappointment professionally is crashing and knocking myself out of the Turin Olympics but that seems pretty typical, and if ever asked that question in an interview, that would probably be my answer."  She stops, eyeing me skeptically before finding something on my face that allows her to continue, "But since it's just you and you seem to be opening the little bits of your world to me, I think it's only fair that I do the same in return."

 

"I'd like that," I encourage, a comforting smile on my face.

 

"All right, well, then..." she stutters, "There's no question or hesitation when it comes to my biggest disappointment.  It is not getting the opportunity to know my brother before he died," she finishes, her voice barely a whisper.  Taking a deep breath, she pushes forth and I find myself walking closer towards her.  "I had an older brother...his name was Tyler.  I honestly could tell you every trivial part of his life, what he looked like, where he went to college, and what he did for his job.  But I couldn't ever really go beyond that..." she answers, looking up at me, her eyes wide.  "I never knew him, at least not the way I wished.  I couldn't tell you his favorite color, his favorite music, what he liked to do for fun, or if he'd ever been in love.  I was so focused on myself and my racing, that I didn't make the time for us to get to know one another.  And that has to be my biggest disappointment and regret all in one."

 

"I'm so sorry, Taylor.  I never would have asked that..."

 

She waves me off, her hand coming to rest on my arm.  "I never would have told you if I didn't think I could trust you with that information, Justin.  Don't be sorry."

 

"Still..."

 

"What's your biggest disappointment, Justin?" she asks, breaking my apology and turning the conversation back around.

 

"You didn't make a shot..."

 

She tilts her head in my direction.  "I think we're passed shooting hoops, don't you?"

 

I gulp; things have suddenly taken quite a turn.  But I realize that the whole point of bringing Taylor out to California with me was to get to know her better.  She intrigues me and everything about her calls me closer.  I can't explain it and I certainly don't understand why this woman has created such a reaction out of me, but for the first time in months, I have someone standing in front of me that is naturally curious to know me, to know Justin better, and not JT.  And as much as I want to give into her, to allow her to really know me, to really see who I am.  There's that voice in the back of my head that replays it all...that replays every hurtful and cruel word that has been shoved in my face from all the previous times that I allowed someone in.  So, I do the only thing that I know how to...I play it vague.  "I have several disappointments, Taylor, and certainly more regrets than anyone should at my age."

 

"That's really sad, Justin," she says empathetically.

 

I shrug my shoulders, tucking the ball under my arm and walking toward the court bench, Taylor following behind.

 

"Do you ever wish you could take it all back?  You know, just be normal?" she asks, sitting down beside me and tucking one leg underneath the other. 

 

"Do you?"

 

She seems to ponder my question, starring off into the night sky behind us before she finally turns toward me, her powerful blue eyes bright with wonder.  "Not for one second.  This is my life and my passion...I wouldn't trade it for one second."

 

I crack a smile.  "I wouldn't either."

 

Gently, she runs a hand up through her long hair, tying the loose ends in a ponytail at the base of her neck.  "Then why do you have disappointments and regrets?"

 

Taking a deep breath, the ball fumbling in my hand as I gather my thoughts, I make the decision to put a little bit of faith in another person, and hoping like hell she's different than the rest.  "I don't have regrets when it comes to my career or the path I have taken to get to this point in my life.  Everything that I have ever worked for and dreamed of in terms of a career has been accomplished.  But when it comes to the other parts of life...the important parts..."

 

"You mean the people in your life?" she asks for clarification, leaning in closer.

 

"Yeah, the people," I answer, taking a deep breath.  "I have so many regrets; I wouldn't even know where to begin."

 

"Justin, you don't have to explain it to me..." she begins and I can't help but drag my eyes up to meet hers.  "I'm not here to pry into your life, to analyze and dissect it either.  I can tell this is something that runs deep for you, and I can't possibly sit across from you and ask you to explain it.  That's wrong...on so many levels."

 

A hint of another smile quirks at my lips and when Taylor notices it, she gives me a questioning look.  "You're right...the regrets and disappointments in my life are something that is hard to talk about because every time I ever have, it's been used against me.  I can't promise you that I will fully let you into my world, but I can say that you're restoring a lot that has been shattered for me, just by being you, and I can say that, maybe one day soon, I'll be able to explain it all a little better."

 

She reaches out, her hand resting on my arm in comforting gesture.  Her touch is able to soothe a lot of the ache that I feel by not being able to open up one-hundred percent to her.  I have asked her, over and over, time and time again, to show me her world and be exposed to me without the defenses that her career naturally provides, yet as I sit here, everything that has caused me pain and torn me apart these last few months is rushing back full force.  The hurt and the heartache that have been present every day and every moment is bubbling under the surface, reminding me time and time again that the minute I trust, the minute I get hurt.

 

And even though, sitting her, looking into her open and vulnerable blue eyes, her comforting touch and soothing words, I know that Taylor is unlike anyone I have ever run across before. 

 

But I've thought that so many times before and been burned to the point that I am surprised that I am still standing.

 

And those thoughts stop me, once again, from letting someone in. 

 

Shaking my head, dispersing the warning bells that are firing in rapid succession, I let out a sigh before facing her.  "I'm starting to get cold...you want to go in?"

 

She smiles, a hint of sadness on her face before she wipes it clear and stands up.  "Yeah, I think it's time we head in, call it a night.  I'm sure you have a lot going on tomorrow."

 

I shrug.  "Nothing that can't be made better with a little company."

 

"Mike's coming?" she teases.

 

"Nice try, hustler.  I was thinking more along the lines of this woman that just happens to be spending the night across the hall from me."

 

"You'll have to introduce me..."

 

"Maybe if you're lucky," I answer, wrapping my arm around her shoulder and leading her

Chapter 13

 

Taylor's POV

 

The steady pounding of my feet against the pavement is the only feeling that steadies me, levels out the emotions that are coursing through my veins and helps relieve the tension that is coiling in my limbs.  A thin sheen of sweat is covering my forehead and I continue to push forward, further and further and harder and harder.  My limbs are burning in satisfaction from the work out of the Hollywood hills and the warming sun is a welcome presence this morning. 

 

Rounding the corner, I return to Justin's street and for the last dash, I sprint back to his house, hoping to get one last burst from the run this morning.  Rounding the corner, I plough through the rest of the way before coming up to his side entrance and slipping back through the side gate, away from any prying eyes or camera lenses.  Jogging slowly up the stone pathway, I head into the backyard, letting my hands rest on my head.  My chest heaving with the exertion of the two hour run and I pull at my tank top, trying to cool down.

 

"You're up early," a voice calls out from the back screen door.

 

Turning around, I spot Justin leaning against the doorway, clad in a pair of loose fitting flannel pajama pants and a plain white t-shirt. 

 

"I told you I still had to work out even if it wasn't on the ski hills."

 

"I would have gone with you for a run."

 

I smooth my hair back in my ponytail, wiping my forehead in the process.  "Yeah, I know.  I just couldn't really sleep, so I got up and went."

 

"How long have you been gone?"

 

"I don't know...two hours maybe..."

 

His eyes widen before he takes a step outside, closing the sliding door behind him.  "Wow, you weren't kidding around when it comes to training."

 

I laugh, taking a few steps towards him.  "I'm kind of out of time to take it easy when it comes to training."

 

He pulls up one of the deck chairs, sitting down comfortably and enjoying the rising sun and cool morning breeze leftover from the night before.  Standing nearby, I pull one of my legs up, stretching it out before repeating the motion on the other leg. 

 

"So, what's on your agenda for today?" I ask, stretching out my tired muscles.

 

"Well, since the press seems to be prodding around, looking for me.  I am going to do a small interview with Timbs for his new album release in December."

 

I nod my head, switching from stretching my legs to stretching my back.  "Where's that at?"

 

"A radio station..."

 

"How are you going to be seen if you're shunned into a radio studio?"  I ask, moving to stretch out my arms now. 

 

Justin is eyeing me curiously, watching my movements with rapt attention before he finally answers me.  "I'll have to make one hell of an entrance there if I want to make it worth my while.  Probably go through the front door instead of the side one...that should do it."

 

"Sounds...interesting to say the least."

 

He laughs, watching as I shake my limbs out once more and walk over toward him.  "Yeah, well, the more that the press sees me in California, the less likely they are going to find me in Colorado this weekend."

 

"All this just to maintain some sense of privacy and security in the mountains?"

 

He smiles before standing up and following behind me back into the house.  "Absolutely.  I can't think of anything more important than that."

 

The retuning smile I give him mirrors his own bright one.  The more he alludes to the problems and lack of privacy that has driven him to Colorado, the more interested I am in his reasons behind needing that time away from the prying eyes that surround his life here.  I could understand if it was merely just for a break from reality...but it's so much more than that.  And after last night and spending time with Justin one on one, it's becoming absolutely clear that he's extremely private about it and at the same time, highly distrustful.  He's warm, funny, and charming in everyday life and that smile is enough to light up a room, but the minute that a conversation starts to turn personal or touches on his reasons for running, he clams up tighter than a crab claw.  I have never been one to pry into anyone's life because I don't want anyone doing the same thing to me, but Justin is sending so many mixed signals, I am finding it harder and harder to understand his reasons behind me being here.

 

One minute he's there, wanting to know more about me and my life but he's not willing to extend that same openness when it comes to his.  I have no intention of pushing him because I don't really know what Justin is to me and right now, it's too much for me to figure out.  I don't need that stress...I already have more than enough to worry about in the next two months than the superstar behind me. 

 

"I'm going to go get ready.  How long before you're leaving?" I ask.

 

"Me leaving?" he counters incredulously.

 

I eye him suspiciously, catching onto his game.  "Oh, no.  I am not going with you."

 

He puts his hand on his hip, raising his eyebrow in challenge. 

 

"Justin, you're going specifically with the goal in mind to have your picture taken there.  I cannot show up in the magazines....in California...with you.  Rob will literally have my head, not to mention the rest of the team would jump all over me."

 

"Didn't we talk about trust?"

 

Immediately, I start to pull my bottom lip between my teeth and I chew nervously on the tender flesh.  "Yes, but-" I begin, but am silenced with a warning look from Justin.

 

Softly, he takes a step toward me, raising his hand to rub against my chin, gently putting enough pressure to remove my lip from the vice of my teeth.  "Trust me," he says huskily and I can feel my stomach flop at his closeness.  Slowly, his eyes travel over my face, lingering on his fingers that are still gripping my chin. "I like your lips...don't be too hard on them," he finishes before smirking at me and walking the rest of the way down the hall.

 

My eyes are wide and I am stuck, standing there, my mouth hanging open, my feet feeling like they weigh a million pounds.  I am utterly floored into speechlessness by his forwardness.  I can still feel the texture of his fingers on my face and the slight burn on my skin at the loss of contact.  Shaking my head and trying to clear my thoughts, I take a tentative step back to my room. With each step that I take, the feelings that sprouted up from nowhere start to dissipate and by the time I am heading into the shower, the fog has fully left my head. 

 

What the hell just happened there?

 

My thoughts are running rampant as the water begins to descend upon me.  Quickly cleaning and washing away the grime from my work out, I dry off and finish getting ready for another fun-filled, packed day with Justin, avoiding the paparazzi.  Throwing on a pair of khaki shorts, flip flips, and a red t-shirt, I comb through my hair, letting the natural waves take over.  Glancing at myself once more in the mirror, I grab my phone before walking back into the hallway and down into the kitchen. 

 

Just as I round the corner, I spot Justin in a pair of khaki cargo shorts, a black polo on top, and his natural brown curls tucked underneath a William Rast logo baseball cap.  He smiles broadly as I step inside and he reaches for his keys, tossing them from one hand to the next before gesturing to the door.

 

"Remind me never to complain about a woman getting ready again...you're quick."

 

I shrug my shoulders as I walk by.  "We're just going casual, and besides, it's not my pretty face that is going to end up in the magazines..." I say, opening the door to the passenger side door of his car, "they're after yours."

 

Together, we head down his driveway, barely stopping at the gate and flying by the cameramen parked outside, never giving them a chance for a picture.  Justin chuckles at their flustered faces before shifting gears and speeding down the addition and out onto the main roads. 

 

He easily changes gears, the muscles flexing in his forearm as he applies the pressure to the shifter and the engine purrs to life.  The sights outside fly by as Justin continue to weave in and out of traffic, barely even looking around.  He appears totally in control, and I am absolutely terrified at the speed he takes the corners.

 

"You mind slowing it down, Andretti?"

 

He chuckles.  "For someone that goes fifty or sixty miles per hour on two pairs of skis with absolutely nothing to protect them other than a plastic helmet, you sure are nervous about a little speed in the car."

 

I grip the door handle tightly as he makes another hard right and onto the interstate, accelerating the entire time.   "Yeah, well, I am in complete control then..."

 

"Don't you trust me?" he says, his eyes glancing in my direction.

 

"In theory."

 

The rest of the car ride is made in compatible silence, offering a few words concerning the music on the radio or the beautiful weather outside, but other than that, Justin continues to drive like a madman while I busy with biting my tongue.  Despite the playful banter between us, he does put me on edge a little bit.  He asks me to trust him but at the same time, he holds back that same trust in me.  It'd be one thing if Justin was just simply another acquaintance but I'd by lying if I said I didn't care about him more than I probably should.  The more time I spend with him, the lighter his mood becomes and the brighter his smile gets.  To me, that speaks louder than any words or questions he can throw my way...he's having fun and letting me in the only way he knows how. 

 

As we come closer to the radio station, Justin takes a left turn into a parking lot, where a black SUV with windows tinted is waiting.  Justin pulls up slowly next to it and just as I am about to question what the hell is going on, Mike steps out, a small smile on his face.

 

Reaching for the door handle, I pull it open and step outside once Justin stops the car.

 

"What's going on?" I ask, shutting the door to Justin's car and spinning to catch the cocky grin on his face.

 

"I told you to trust me..." he begins, tapping his hand on the roof of his car.  "You're going with Mike to the station...he'll bring you in a side door, away from the cameras."

 

"What about you?  Don't you need Mike to be with you?"

 

"No, I'll be fine.  They know I'm coming so they will have some security on hand...but the whole point is to get mobbed a bit."

 

"That sounds horrible..." I exclaim, a hint of shock in my voice.

 

He merely shrugs nonchalantly.  "Won't be the first time and certainly won't be the last.  Take care of her, Mike, she's kind of important," he says, winking before getting back into his car, throwing it into gear and zipping off in the direction of the radio station. 

 

Turning around, I eye Mike before shrugging and getting into the SUV.  Mike's gentle stature yet intimidating size is certainly something to get used to but after the banter from the other day and the way the he genuinely cares for Justin, it's impossible not to relax beside him.  He's the gentle giant.

 

"Well, Ms. Jordan, I'd say you're certainly someone special in that young man's heart."

 

I scoff.  "I highly doubt that, Mike."

 

He just shakes his head as he maneuvers the SUV closer to the station and at a much more controlled speed, much to my delight.  "Don't underestimate him.  He's not very trusting when it comes to outsiders...there must be something that he relates to with you.  I haven't seen Justin...this way...in a while."

 

I shrug my shoulders, not really knowing how to answer because as much as I would like to think that Justin and I are forming some kind of understanding between one another, I'm not blind to the obstacles that surround us or the lack of trust that Justin is fighting for control of.

 

"I don't claim to be an expert when it comes to Justin.  Hell that boy gives me a headache faster than if I were to run straight into a wall.  But I will say that he doesn't go to this much trouble to protect people, if he doesn't care about them in some way."

 

With that bit of information, I can feel the nerves begin to pool in my stomach because I have no idea how to take that.  Those words, coming from anyone other than Mike wouldn't mean a whole heck of a lot, but Mike knows Justin better than anyone.  Hell, it's his job to know how Justin's mind thinks so that he can protect him.  But the idea that Justin Timberlake has formed any kind of attachment to me is absolutely ludicrous in nature.   After all, my life is about to become everything he seems to be running from.

 

Together, we slowly pull in the back entrance and the loud clatter from the paparazzi up front can be heard immediately.  Mike brings the SUV to a halt, hiding behind a couple other vehicles as big, if not bigger, than the one I am currently being housed in.

 

"Give me just a minute to make sure no one is lingering back here and then we can head inside."

 

I nod my head in understanding; the nervousness from the situation I find myself in beginning to settle in as I wait.  Mike casually walks around the building, looking past the corners before giving the car another once over and returning for me.

 

"All clear, you ready, Taylor?"

 

"Yeah, let's go," I tell him, jumping out and following closely next to him, tucked safely between the wall and Mike's large frame.  The walk inside is quick and completely undetected. 

 

Walking the halls, a few people acknowledge us with a hello and a small smile; even a few manage to do a double take, but for the most part we are left to ourselves in the confines of the building.  Mike leads the way, cautiously keeping one eye open while being gracious enough to grab every door that we pass through at the same time.

 

"He should be inside here...do you want me to come in with you?  Or did you want to go alone?" Mike asks, reaching for the door.

 

"Come with..." I answer, feeling a little more confident with Mike by my side.

 

Sneaking in quietly, I spot Justin through a glass window, Timbaland sitting next to him and both are wearing a pair of headphones secured over their ears.  Immediately, Justin looks up, a smile forming on his face as he realizes Mike and I made it in safely.

 

Grabbing a chair, I sit down, Mike tucking in next to me as we listen to Justin and Timbaland's interview.

 

"So, Timbaland, tell me what it was like having Justin help work with you on your album this time around?" the interviewer asks.

 

"Me and Jus...there's no team quite like us.  Deciding to do Shock Value II, there was no question that he was going to be a part of it," Timbaland answers, his rough voice carrying through the speakers.  "We vibe off each other, he keeps me on my toes, and I him."

 

The interviewer swivels in his chair, turning his gaze on Justin.  "So, how was it working on Timbs album?  After all, it's been a couple years since you released any new solo stuff...are you enjoying the producing side of the industry more?"

 

Justin nervously rubs his hands on his thighs as he compiles his answer quickly.  "Working with Timbs, it's just natural, everything we do just flows.  It's been an honor to be a part of this with him."

 

"Anymore solo stuff in the mix?"

 

"You never know, man...but right now, I am just working on other projects, producing, writing, my clothing line...they all keep me busy."

 

"Rumors have it that you've been spending time on the slopes as well," the interviewer asks.

 

Justin can't help but glance in my direction and the eyes of everyone in the room turn my way.  I can feel my face heating up immediately under their scrutiny.  "I wish I were on the hills right now, man.  But I am here in Sunny So. Cal."

 

"And we appreciate you stopping by, Justin."

 

As the DJ directs his attention back towards Timbaland, Justin flashes me a grin and a wink.  He thinks he's slick...

 

Please.

 

Mike just chuckles beside me, reaching for a magazine and pretending to read it. "Oh, yeah, there is something there on J's end..." he mutters, his words swallowed up by the noise of the pages turning. 

 

"What was that?"

 

"I said, there's something here at the end," he explains, riffling through the magazine quickly.

 

I eye him suspiciously.  "I bet you did, Mike."

 

Mike just chuckles beside me, before turning his attention back to the magazine in front of him and I let my eyes wander back to the window.  Justin is laughing, his head thrown back and a bright, wide grin on his face.  His eyes are crinkled and his whole demeanor is something that I haven't seen since I first met him on the slopes, that same care-free aura is back, if for just a moment.

 

"Justin, Timbaland, I want to thank you for taking time out of your day to come and speak to us."

 

"It's our pleasure."

 

"Well, before we wrap it up with these two superstars, we're going to take some calls from our listeners," the DJ explains.  "Guys, are you up for answering a few questions?"

 

"Sure," Timbaland responds for the two of them.

 

Hitting a button on the board in front of him, the DJ begins to filter in some questions for the two of them.  "All right, this one is from Melissa...go ahead, you're on with Timbaland and Justin."

 

Immediately, I am shocked by the squeal to her voice and I can't help but snicker when Justin rolls his eyes in my direction.  "Wow, I can't believe I got through..."

"Your question?" the DJ prompts.

 

"Right, yes, I was wondering if there was going to be a tour for the new album and if so, Justin, will you be on it, too?"

 

Timbaland easily leans into the mic to answer.  "There will be a smaller club tour and I would love it if Justin is able to be there but I don't plan on taking him away from his own obligations."

 

"Maybe I'll make a couple surprise appearances...it's still up in the air," Justin pipes in.

 

"All right, thanks for the call, Melissa.  Next, up Tiffany, you're on.  What's your question?" the DJ quickly moves it along, knowing that Timbaland and Justin have other things going on.

 

"I was just wondering if Justin is working on any special projects right now?"

 

Justin licks his lips, preparing his answer.  "Actually, I am just enjoying some downtime intertwined with work on the clothing line.  It's been a lot of meetings, so nothing too extravagant."

 

"Thanks, Tiffany..." the DJ says, glancing out toward us.  "Well, I am getting the signal that you guys need to get going...one last question."

 

"This is from Sarah...go ahead, you're live with Timbaland and Justin."

 

My attention is drawn, simply because it is the last caller, but the minute the voice comes over the speaker, something just doesn't sound right.  "Ahhh...yes, I was just wondering if Justin is willing to comment on all the speculation and accusations surrounding his break-up with Jessica..."

 

The DJ's eyes are wide the minute she finishes her question and I can't help but dart my eyes in Justin's direction as well.  His face is a mix of pain and anger in a flash of about two seconds.

 

"We're not here to discuss any personal lives..." the DJ quickly interjects, cutting the connection with the caller but the damage is already done and the seething look coming from Justin is enough to make me recoil myself. 

 

"Well, I am sorry to end the interview on that note.  However, Timbaland, Justin, I want to thank you for taking the time out to come down here today.  We wish you nothing but continued success."

 

"Thank you for having us," they both answer respectfully, but the tightness in Justin's jaw and his brooding eyes is a dead giveaway that he needs to get out of there and fast.

 

As the DJ flips on a track, they both stand, shaking the guy's hand tersely before exiting the small booth, Justin's walk a little more forced than usual.  The demeanor shift, the anger in his eyes, and clipped voice is all I need to realize that whatever trust issues Justin is holding on so tightly to is clearly coming from his latest relationship.  Whatever it was that happened is enough to set him off completely and I realize that last place I want to be is in his warpath. 

 

"Ummm...Mike?" I question hesitantly.

 

Mike looks up, letting out a sigh and nodding before standing up and following closely behind Justin as he quickly exits the room and down the hall.  I throw myself into step behind Mike, feeling extremely uncomfortable but knowing I have no other choice but to follow.

 

"Hey, J, man, wait up..." Mike calls out and Justin spins around.

 

"I need to get out here...now."

 

"Listen, speeding out of here like a bat out of hell isn't going to stop these allegations."

 

"I don't want to talk about this, Mike," Justin clips.

 

Mike nods his head in understanding before he turns around to speak to me.  "I'll go clear a path; make sure that it's ok for us to head out the back way.  Justin, you can meet us back at your place?"

 

Justin takes a step forward, determination in his stride when he comes to stand by me.  I can feel the anger radiating off of him in waves and as much as I am slightly terrified by it, I feel the protectiveness start to emerge.  Whatever it is or whoever it is that has caused this reaction in him deserves a good lashing.  He doesn't deserve this.

 

"Take my car, Mike.  Drive it back to my place or take it wherever.  I'm going to go out with Taylor the back way...I need to just get away for a bit."

 

"You sure, J?"

 

He looks down at me, his eyes roaming over my face.  "Yeah, just make sure we're good to go."

 

"All right, wait here," Mike answers, reaching for the door and slipping outside quickly.

 

Although I don't fully understand what happened or even the reason that Justin is so angry, I know that whatever it is...it's bad.  "Justin, maybe we should just go back to your place...you know, get away from all this," I explain, gesturing around the room with my hand.

 

"Taylor, to be honest, I have never wanted to just get away more in my life...and I can't think of anyone better to be with than you right now.  Please, just trust me."

 

I sigh, hearing those infamous words once again and knowing that I am completely powerless to resist.  "I do."

 

He smirks before turning his attention to the opening door, Mike motioning with his hand for us to come with.  "You're all clear.  Justin, call me later, I want to know you're ok."

 

"Thanks, Mike."

 

"Be safe.  See you around, Taylor."

 

"Bye Mike," I answer, hopping into the passenger side and buckling up just as Justin revs the engine, backing away and out the side entrance.

 

The two of us ride in silence through the roads of California, the only sound coming from the humming of the fan and slight background music from the radio.  Justin's hands are gripping the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles showing white a little more with each second that ticks by.  His breathing is heavy although it has calmed slightly the further we get away from the radio station and higher up into the hills of the mountains.  Knowing that it's neither my place to ask nor talk, I gaze out at the scenery, the trees, the flowers, everything is so different here than back home or in Colorado.  It's a nice break from the realities of my life but I know that it's not going to last and soon, I will need to buckle down again.

 

"You mind going for a walk?" Justin asks as he brings the car to a stop at a small opening on the side.

 

I shake my head no and hop out, walking around to catch up to him.  As we begin the small climb up the hill and on the trail, I can't help but wonder if Justin is hurting more than he is letting on.

 

"Are you ok?" I ask timidly from behind him and nearly collide into his back when he stops suddenly.

 

"Depends on your definition of ok..." he answers, slowing his stride to walk side-by-side with me.  "I will be ok...right now; I am just kind of decompressing a bit."

 

"Are you sure you don't want to be alone?"

 

"That's the last thing that I need," he answers, his eyes downcast on the trail in front of us.

 

The small trail is merely a worn walking path, a hint of sand and dust as the only real marker of the way.  "I just figured..." I begin, but he quickly interjects.

 

"I know you don't understand what is going on...or what that whole thing about Jessica is...or why I get so angry."

 

"Justin," I begin, reaching my hand out to clasp his forearm, "you don't have to explain anything to me."

 

He smiles at me before reaching up with his other arm, sliding my hand down to clasp gently with his own.  "As hard as it is for me to trust, Taylor, it's really hard not to be drawn to you, to want you to understand, to explain."

 

I swallow nervously, the feeling of his strong hand securing me in this conversation.  "I don't expect you to spill your guts and tell me your life story, Justin.  That's not why I am here and that is certainly not what I was going for when we met up on the slopes."

 

"I know that, Taylor.  If there's one thing that I have learned from this whole thing it's that our friendship is so different than any other relationship that I have in my life."

 

"Is that a good thing?" I ask, slightly worried. 

 

"It's the best thing," he answers gently. 

 

The two of us suddenly come upon an opening in the path and immediately I am hit by one of the most magnificent views I have ever seen.  The whole valley is open to this spot.  I can see the ocean straight ahead, the curves of the hills, the winding roads, and the sun casting its light on the world around us. 

 

"This is beautiful..." I whisper, coming to a stop near the edge, Justin sliding in beside me.  He gently gives my hand a squeeze before releasing my fingers from his grip.  I mourn the loss of his warmth but the smile on his face is enough to suffice the loss in physical contact. 

 

"How did you find this place?" I ask softly.

 

"A friend of mine actually showed me it...I come here a lot, to think.  It's secluded and far enough away that I won't be interrupted."

 

"It's breathtaking," I answer, looking out at the beauty ahead.  The cool breeze sifts through and I can't help but inhale at the serene scenery. 

 

"Thank you..." he says, a hint of reverence in his voice. 

 

I turn toward him, not really sure what he means. 

 

"For earlier...for the time in Colorado...just being there," he clarifies.  "You don't realize what you do for me by just being there..."

 

"I'm always around to lend a shoulder to lean on..."

 

He laughs lightly before looking out at the valley ahead.  The worry and stress lines that were present on his face have vanished for the most part and the longer we stand out here together in the sunlight, the calmer his whole demeanor becomes.

 

"I know there's a lot to my life that must have you confused..."

 

I turn to stop him; I really don't want an explanation that he feels he should tell rather than want to tell me himself.  "Whenever you want to tell me...I'll be here.  But until then, I'm all right knowing that you'll explain it to me when and if you're ready."

 

Justin's blue eyes are shining brightly and the smile that crosses his face is one of the most genuine things I have seen in a long time.  "You're incredible; you know that, right, Taylor?"

 

"You're just sucking up now after getting your ass handed to you on the court last night."

 

He chuckles loudly before spinning on his heel, reaching his hand out to grasp mine once again.  "You hungry?" he asks and I nod my head in agreement.

 

For now, things may be a little crazy and I don't fully understand the situation revolving around Justin, but I'm realizing quickly that's ok.  Because when it comes to friendship and trust, it's built rather than given.  And if I have to wait to earn his trust, I'll do that because that smile on his face is worth it.  He's worth it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 14

 

Justin's POV

 

The fact that I allowed, even for a brief moment, the situation with Jessica, the press, and our infamous break-up to overshadow my limited time in California with Taylor has certainly been eating at me.  I hate the fact that she still has some control, some power to influence myself and everything around me.  That's one of the reasons we broke up...I wanted my life back and yet, she still influences it...in her cruel, sick kind of way.

 

Three years ago, when I first started dating her, I never would have guessed what was to come.  How cruel, vindictive, and selfish she could be...how was I so blind not to see her true intentions?  Each day, the anger grows a little more and although I know the more I let her control me, the more she will...I can't seem to let it go.  Jessica took everything I ever gave, all my trust, my love, and my devotion, only to throw it back in my face with heavy dose of acid for the sting. 

 

Thus, blowing up yesterday, the anger coiling in my veins like a snake, I realize just how pivotal Taylor was to easing the situation.  She might not understand the situation or even comprehend how ugly my life can get, but none of that matters to her.  Taylor never prods, never assumes, and never pushes for an explanation I am struggling to find.  The more I am around her, the more I realize that Taylor isn't the same as the others.  She's everything Jessica is not.  And I need to figure out what that means.

 

As I round the corner of my kitchen, I start to ascend the stairs towards my room and the room conveniently across the hall...the one that currently houses Taylor.  It's been two days in California, two days of getting to know one another without any outside influences, two days of just spending time with each other, and two days that have flown by way too fast.  I realize that our time in California is coming to a close and that we must return to Colorado soon but I can't help but be a little disappointed of our return.  Taylor won't be just right across the hall anymore, she'll be across town, and I can already feel the loss just thinking about it.

 

Quickly I make my way down the hall, giving a gentle knock against the wooden door that leads to Taylor's room and before I can even fidget nervously, she appears in the doorway.  Clad in a pair of dark skinny jeans, a long, ribbed, red sweater that ends mid-thigh, a pair of black heels, and her long hair curled around her face, she nearly takes my breath away. 

 

"Wow," I breathe out, my voice barely finding any strength.  Coughing, I try to cover up my slip and pick my jaw up off the floor.  "I mean, you look...well...you look..."

 

Her crooked smile is the only thing I can focus on and her bright blue eyes are shimmering in amusement as I stumble to regain my composure. 

 

"You look beautiful, Taylor."

 

She smiles broadly before taking a step out of the room and closing the door behind her.  "Thank you.  Are you ready to go?"

 

"Yeah, just give me a second to grab a couple things in my room."  Turning away from her, I take a moment to just collect my thoughts as I walk into my room.  Never before has a girl nearly left me speechless and so taken aback in a moment that my brain is firing faster than my mouth can respond.  I'm not blind to Taylor's beauty but with the added time spent together, her friendship alone has drawn me that much closer, and I'm starting to wonder if I am beginning to blur the line between friendship and relationship.

 

Glancing around my room, I realize I should probably get back out there before Taylor starts to wonder about my whereabouts.  Reaching for my cell phone, I tuck it into my jeans followed by my wallet and quickly snap on my watch.  With one last look in the mirror, I head out, shutting off the lights as I go.

 

"You ready?" I ask, coming to a halt in the foyer where Taylor is patiently waiting for me.

 

"You sure about this...no paps?" she asks hesitantly.  Despite all my efforts to shield Taylor from the prying eyes of the cameras, she still worries.  Whether it's for her own personal privacy or my own, she cares enough to make sure I am ok with everything, never wanting to assume or intrude. 

 

I reach for the final light in the hall way, flicking it off before opening the door and leading Taylor out the doorway.  "I am absolutely sure.  I promise, no cameras, no interruptions...just a nice dinner."

 

As we head out the alleyway and through the hills, I can't help but find myself basking in the serenity and peace that surrounds us.  The sun is setting off in the horizon, its rays cascading the last bit of warmth on the road ahead of us before the night settles in.  The ride throughout the hills, the twists and turns are all made in compatible silence, the only sound is the gentle undertones of the music, mixing and blending with the soft cadence of our breathing.  Taylor's long curls are shielding her face from view, yet the illumination from the dash is creating a mask around her features, almost creating a haze around her face.  Trying to dislodge my train of thought from taking things any further, I reach for the radio, flipping it carelessly until landing on another station.

 

Rounding another corner, I begin the ascent up the hills towards the restaurant.  "How did you find this place again?" Taylor asks, breaking the silence, and I shift in my seat.

 

"My friend Trace, whom you should meet sometime, actually introduced me to it.  It's a Mexican restaurant that is tucked away up in the hills, fairly secluded from the chaos down below."

 

"Sounds good..."

 

"Taylor, have you been to California before?  I'm starting to think this is your first time."

 

She laughs lightly, a smile adorning her lips.  "Nah, it's just when I am out here, it's always press.  I never come to see the sights, enjoy the weather, or take in the local cuisine.  It's all business for me out here."

 

I nod my head, knowing how true that statement is.  "Most of the time for me, too...but since I call this place home, I tend to explore a little more...you know we all can't have a giant, snow covered mountain in our backyard," I tease as I pull the car around the final turn, the building coming into view ahead.

 

"Well, all you have to do is pack up and move ‘er north..."

 

Pulling into a parking spot, I turn off the car and get out, making sure to help Taylor out as well.  "I will have to think about that."

 

She smiles before falling into step alongside me.  Reaching for the door, I usher her inside before stopping to wait for the hostess.  Barely a second passes before an older woman appears with a couple of menus in her hand, a smile lighting up her face.

 

"Welcome to Manny's, just the two of you?"

 

"Yes, ma'am," I answer, a hint of a southern twang in my voice.

 

She nods appreciatively before leading the way through the dinning room and toward a booth alongside the other patrons.  "Your waiter tonight will be Travis, please let me know if there's anything you need.  Enjoy your dinner, you two" she says, placing a couple of waters in front of us as well.

 

"Thank you," we both respond in unison. 

 

Taylor reaches for her menu, tilting it up and letting her eyes glance over the options.  "So, what do you recommend, Justin?"

 

"I suggest we get the Mexican sampler...it's a little bit of everything and there's so much that it's more than enough for the two of us to share."

 

Taylor nods her head in acceptance just as the waiter appears.

 

"Thank you for making Manny's your choice for the night.  Can I start you two off with anything to drink?"

 

I motion toward Taylor, after all Mike did teach me ladies first. 

 

"I'll have a strawberry margarita," she answers with a smile.

 

I can't help but feel a slight jolt at the look the waiter is giving Taylor and a slight protectiveness rear its head deep from within. 

 

"And you, sir?"

 

"Corona is fine," I snip, trying to cover the edge to my voice.

 

"I will get those drinks in for you right away and get you out some chips and salsa," Travis says before giving one last departing look in Taylor's direction.  She doesn't even seem to notice the attention she draws and I can't help but find a little sense of relief in that innocence. 

 

"This place is great...I mean, look at all the paintings, the pictures, and the sculptures..." Taylor says, a bit of excitement lacing her words.  "How often do you see things like this?  I am so used to the normal décor."

 

I look around, taking a moment to appreciate the beauty inside.  The dark tint of the lights certainly creates a warm environment, but the artwork brings this place to life.  "I love it here..."

 

She twists in her seat, crossing her legs and letting her arms drop to her side.  "You come here often?"

 

"Not too often...it's kind of a special getaway."

 

"Everyone has to have those."

 

I smile at her.  "I couldn't agree more." 

 

Just then Travis returns, dropping off our drinks and chips before taking our order for dinner.  His lingering looks are still more than apparent and yet, Taylor doesn't even seem unnerved or bothered by it.  I suppose I am more than bothered enough for the two of us.

 

"You do realize you have an admirer in the building..." I tease, trying to gauge whether or not she has picked up on the attention he is dishing her way.

 

"Who, the waiter?" Taylor asks incredulously.

 

I nod my assent. 

 

She scoffs.  "You're worried about that when girls literally claw their way toward you.  Please, he's harmless."

 

I laugh at her analogy, thankful that his attempts are thwarted before anything can even come of them.  I realize how screwed up that is, needing to protect her from other guys and not fully understanding what that really means to me.  I just know that I enjoy spending time with Taylor and I admit to being fully selfish when it comes to her time and attention.

 

"So, you ready to pack it up soon and head back to Colorado?" she asks, taking a sip of her drink before placing it firmly back on the coaster.

 

"Yeah, I miss my board...I miss the powder, the cold, the lifts...I miss the calm," I respond, my fingers gently taping against the wood of the table.  "California served its purpose...everyone believes I am in town...but now I am ready to just enjoy my cabin and my serenity in the mountains."

 

She smiles brightly, a hint of reverence in her face at my answer.  "I wish I could say the same.  I kind of envy your ability to just kick back on the hills.  My life is about to go crazy.  World Cup is in a month."

 

"Are you nervous?"

 

She ponders the question for a second before tilting her head slightly to the side. "Yes, I am actually.  I know I am physically and mentally prepared for everything that is about to come.  It's just knowing that I have one shot to prove that what happened in Turin is not about to repeat itself."

 

"I wish I could come with..." I answer, the words out my mouth before I can retract them.  "You know to support you and all..."

 

She smiles softly, her head lowering in appreciation.  "Me too."

 

"When do you leave for Austria then?"

 

"Races are January eighth through the tenth, so we are heading over there on the second.  Get myself acclimated to the altitude, time difference, and the hills over there."

 

"That's understandable..." I answer, trying to hide my disappointment in knowing how much our time together is slipping away.  "You're going to be great."

 

"I hope."

 

Before anymore discussion regarding her upcoming race can continue, Travis returns with a large try full of dishes.  Everything from pork, beef, chicken, peppers, onions, rice, beans, tortillas, sour cream and so many other different sides are all strategically placed throughout the tray in a delicious feast.  He offers us his assistance before he departs and together we start to dish out the food.  The helpings are generously distributed, each tasting and trying different combinations from the tray.  The only sounds that linger in between our casual conversation are the moans coming from us as we polish off the delicious food.  Taylor seems to be enjoying my pick and I can't help but feel a little bit of pride in choosing something she would enjoy.

 

In satisfaction, we sit back from the table, each of us gently rubbing our stomach in appreciation. 

"My coach is going to kill me..." she giggles.  "We're definitely going for a run tomorrow."

 

"You gotta live a little..."

 

Before I can even continue my train of thoughts, a shiver of ice slips down my spine the minute a voice breaks into my consciousness.  "Well, well...Justin, you must introduce me."

 

I can barely even concentrate, my hands are beginning to shake and the anger is rolling through me in waves.  The all consuming rage is taking forth, almost clouding my vision into a sea of red as I turn to stare up at the owner of that voice.

 

Her brown hair is angled sharply around her face, her green eyes prominent as they always used to be.  Despite how I hate her, what she did to me, what she continues to do, I can't deny that there was a time that I would have done anything for her.  I would have given it all up, had she asked me...she was my everything, and I was her nothing.

 

"Jessica," I barely manage to speak, the anger almost locking my jaw in place.  I can feel my teeth grinding, trying to control all the emotions that are swirling around me. 

 

"I'm shocked you wouldn't have called me, now that you're back in town from God-knows-where." Her voice is like nails on a chalkboard but when I feel her fingers brush against back of my neck, I nearly lose it in that moment.  "After all, don't you miss me?"

 

Turning towards her, I steel my jaw in anticipation of being face-to-face with the one woman that has nearly broken me in every imaginable way.  "I haven't called or spoken to you for a reason, Jessica, and I certainly am not about to start now."

 

"You don't mean that."  Her brushing off my comment so easily only serves to fuel my rage, and I can't believe that my night is turning out like this. 

 

"Jessica, you have managed to manipulate me, my family, and my friends into playing along with your games and lies.  I am not about to sit here and pretend that what you're doing is even on the same realm of morality that I live my life."

 

Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Taylor's mouth drop open in surprise before she quickly recovers, hiding her reaction from view. 

 

At my outburst back, Jessica's eyes narrow, her lips morphing into a straight line.  I can see the shift in demeanor, before she was manipulating me and now she's about to lash out.

 

"You may think you have the upper-hand, Justin.  That you can sit here in front of your new girl, talk a big game like you're in control, that you don't wish things were different.  But we both know the truth," she answers, her eyes penetrating straight through me and I can feel the venom behind her words.  She's nowhere even near through messing with me.  "Enjoy your dinner with your new flavor of the month..."

 

"Flavor of the month?" Taylor pipes in, a hint of annoyance in her voice.  "Listen, I don't know you and you don't know me.  But more importantly, you know nothing of my relationship with Justin.  I think it's time for you to leave." 

 

Jessica eyes her, a hint of malevolence in her stare.  "You have no idea who you're talking to."

 

Before I can even move, Taylor is already standing up, completely eye-level with Jessica.  "I don't need nor want to know you.  And as you can tell, neither does he.  So, if you'll excuse us, we were just leaving.  Enjoy your night." Taylor ends the whole conversation, reaching for my hand and pulling me out of there before Jessica can continue her reign of terror. 

 

A few choice words fall from Taylor's lips as we approach the front and I can't help but feel a sense of gratitude toward the women in front of me.  She continues to lead the way, only stopping to grab Travis as he walks by to take care of our tab.  He's pleasantly surprised to get her attention for the brief moment before she turns back towards me, reaching for my hand again and heading out of there, not even a glance back.

 

"Well, that was..." she begins as we approach the car.  She stops to open the door, her hand lingering on the frame, "interesting to say the least."

 

"I'm so sorry, Taylor."

 

She eyes me for a second, her lips forming a frown before she sits down in the car.  Following suit, I climb in and clip my seat belt on before reaching to start the car. 

 

Suddenly, she shifts; stopping my movement and her left leg comes to rest on the seat as she faces me.  "I'm not very good at this stuff, Justin, and I am completely out of my element here.  But I will say this; I may not know you as closely as your fans, your family and friends, or even your ex-girlfriends.  But from what I do know, I can honestly say that whatever is going on between you and her...you don't deserve this."

 

I let a small smile tug at my lips, trying to decompress from the earlier confrontation. 

 

"I hope you don't think I over-stepped my boundaries back there.  It's just my blood was boiling; I can't imagine what you were going through.  It just slipped out."

 

I laugh, turning the ignition and backing out of the parking spot.  "I have zero qualms with you defending my honor, Taylor."

 

She smirks, turning back in her seat and settling in for the drive back to the house.

 

Despite the unconventional end to our dinner, there's a sense of peace that settles in around us and it's then that I realize how much I have grown to trust the woman beside me.  The fact that Taylor defended me back there, without even knowing the situation surrounding Jessica and I, she took my side regardless of the facts.  That alone speaks volumes when it comes to her faith and trust in me.  I don't know how it happened or when it did, but Taylor has re-stored a part of me that I thought I lost, a part of me I was desperate to find again.  She has shown me unyielding faith and I think it's only fair I give it back to her.

 

Reaching out, I clasp her hand in mine, allowing her fingers to intertwine with my own and give it a gentle squeeze.  "I think it's time you really get to know me..." I begin, chancing a glance in her direction, "all of me."

 

Chapter 15

 

Justin's POV

 

I have spent so many years, building up the walls around my heart and my life.  I've done anything and everything to keep people out, from truly really knowing me, because whenever I let someone in, I get burned worse than the last time.  It's tiring, exhausting to have to live in a self-imposed isolation, too worried that if someone gets too close, they'll do whatever it takes to crush me.  I'm so used to the pain brought on by the people in my life that I have, in a sense, avoided letting anyone close to me.

 

I guess that was my thought process with moving to Colorado...a new place, a new start, even for the briefest of moments, just a chance to be me.  Everything about this time off has been for my own sanity, a chance to focus on what it is I want out of life, whether the public spotlight is still in my future, or if walking away now is the only way to end all the misery that accompanies the fame.

 

It has been those complex questions that have plagued my consciousness for months.  The talks with my mom, with Trace, even my record label have all left me still grasping for some kind of answer that has eluded me.

 

Struggling to find my way, tonight has been another setback in the reality of my life.  Running into Jessica has brought back all the memories, the heartache, the manipulation, and the pain to the forefront.  Her very presence and ability to get under my skin has me reeling within seconds, and it's something that I am going to need to deal with if I ever want to move forward.  

 

Yet, nothing has shocked me more than Taylor's reaction to the whole fiasco.  She's someone that has absolutely no stake in my life; no feelings of protection or loyalty are required from her.  Nonetheless though, she stood up, without even thinking about it, to defend me.  And that says a lot about her character and the type of person she is.

 

Taylor has been understanding, patient, and a much needed distraction from the dark reality that circles my life at the moment.  She's never once pressured me or made me feel like her motives were anything but genuine.  Her ability to trust has pulled me in, thrown me into a bit of a tailspin as to my normal processes and led me straight into a crossroads.

 

Taylor deserves to know the truth, to fully understand what comes with my life and fame.  She needs to know that my life is anything but beautiful.  It's complicated and messy, full of jealousy and mistrust, and, ultimately, manipulation.  Taylor needs to know these things for her own career; her own life outside of our friendship hangs just as precariously in the balance.  After all, Jessica has made it her personal mission to destroy not only myself, but those around me, and clearly that now includes Taylor.

 

The last thing that I want to do is jeopardize her life.  She is embarking on an adventure so far out of my realm of reality that destroying that opportunity, just by tainting it with the drama that encircles being near me...I can't possibly allow that to happen.  She deserves so much more than that, and I will do anything and everything to protect her from it.

 

However, protection comes at a price.  Protecting Taylor means she needs to know...everything.  And that means I need to open up.

 

Sighing, I brush my hands against my legs, allowing me the chance to calm my breathing and settle my nerves.  Slowly I stand, walking around the large wrap-around couch in the basement and head up the stairs to find Taylor...to explain that what she witnessed tonight is much more than a squabble between exes.

 

With each step, the nerves pool a little more, my head is telling me to stop, to turn around as fast as I can and run from what I am about to do, and yet, my heart screams louder that this is Taylor.  The woman that, with just a smile, can remind me what it's like to trust.  And it's about time that I put the same faith in Taylor that she obviously has put in me.

 

Standing outside of her door, I take one last deep breath, the point of no return quickly slipping by as I wrap my knuckles gently across the wood. 

 

"Coming," her soft voice echoes and the padding of feet on the carpet fills the silence.

 

Slowly, the door creaks open and Taylor is standing there, clad in a pair of pajama pants, a sweatshirt, and her hair pulled up in a messy bun.  The soft smile that pulls at the corner of her lips brings a sense of reassurance that I somehow needed. 

 

"Hey," she answers.

 

I let out the breath that I was holding and a hint of a smile plays across my features.  "Are you busy?"

 

"Not at all.  Come in," she answers, opening the door wider and allowing me access into what has been her private room since we arrived.  Out of curiosity, I allow my eyes to travel over the enclosed space, the clothes in the corner, a few of her things scattered on the dresser, and finally my eyes land on the open binder on her bed.

 

Suddenly, Taylor appears by my side, hopping up on the bed and shuffling the worn, tattered pages back into its case and closing it. 

 

"Everything ok?" she asks, placing the object on the nightstand, barring it from my line-of-sight. 

 

"Yeah, everything's good.  There's just some things I wanted to talk to you about...if that's ok," I ask nervously.

 

She eyes me skeptically.  "You're kind of freaking me out a little...it feels like you're about to break up with me or something."  Her humor lightens the mood and I crack a smile at her ability to make me forget.

 

"No, no breaking up speeches," I explain, climbing up onto her bed.

 

Taylor situates herself opposite me, leaning against the headboard, her long legs straight out and crossed at the ankle while I settle in near the foot of the bed, my posture mirroring hers. 

 

"You ok, Justin?" she asks, the concern evident in her voice.

 

One last opportunity to bail and I swallow it down, knowing that it's the right thing to do.  "I'm getting there, Taylor.  For the first time in a long time, I think I'm getting there," I begin. 

 

She eyes me suspiciously but chooses not to speak, knowing there's much more to that thought that needs to be qualified.  "About tonight, I wanted to say I am sorry about all of that.  The last thing I ever intended was for you to be caught in the middle, to see-"

 

She puts her hand up, stopping my apology right in its track.  "You don't have anything to apologize for, Justin.  Obviously there are some underlying issues that I am not aware of...if anything, I should apologize for thrusting myself in the middle of it."

 

I shake my head.  "You're not in the middle of it and I don't want you to feel like I put you there," I begin, taking a deep breath, realizing that letting Taylor in doesn't necessarily mean she's going to hurt me in return.  "Listen, there's a lot that you don't know about me, my life, or even my relationship with Jessica.  And yet, you stood up for me, defended me without question..."

 

"That's what friends do, Justin," she answers simply, like it's the most logical answer out there. 

 

"I know that, Taylor...but...there's more...there's so much more..." I stumble, somehow getting flustered by her easy response.

 

Suddenly, the bed shifts as Taylor pushes herself further back against the pillows.  "You don't have to explain, Justin.  Honestly, I'm not looking for any kind of explanation."

 

I can't help but allow her words to really sink in.  She doesn't need me to do this; she was merely defending a friend, nothing more and nothing less.  Yet, if I am being honest with myself, I can't sit across from her and deny that my feelings towards her lie strictly along the friendship line.  Taylor has worked her way into my heart without even knowing it.  The way she so easily gives her trust, her ability to make me laugh, the fierce protectiveness, the loyalty, her drive to succeed with her career...I don't even know when it happened or how it did, but Taylor won a lot more than my faith in her. 

 

"I know you don't need an explanation, Taylor, but I think you deserve one."

 

Slowly, she nods her head in ascent, allowing me the opportunity to collect my thoughts before continuing.

 

One deep breath and a huge leap of faith, I begin, "What you saw tonight...between Jessica and me....that was just the tip of the iceberg from the explosion that happened nearly a year ago.  We've been fighting ever since our break-up.  Mostly me trying to move on, her trying to hold on."

 

"That can't be easy," she answers, a sympathetic smile on her face.

 

"No, definitely not.  But things have really gotten ugly about six months ago.  Jessica's been doing anything she can to hold onto me.  Not necessarily the relationship, but the fame that comes with two celebrities dating."  Chancing a glance up, Taylor is merely sitting there, allowing me the freedom to continue without interruption or pressure.  "She's been planting stories about us in the media, tossing around extremely personal information about my family, namely my parents, and finding new ways to sink her claws deeper and deeper into me."

 

The soft cadence of Taylor's breathing is the only sound that can be heard in the room and it's a comfort to have someone listen without any kind of stake in the outcome. 

 

"You have to understand one thing...I loved her, she'd been more world for more than three years and when things fell apart, it was like this person I knew no longer existed.  The fame was what she was after, what she still is...and it's getting harder and harder for me to protect those around me from her wrath."

 

Gently, the soothing sound of her voice pipes in.  "I don't understand, Justin.  If you don't want to be with her, and everything she is spewing in the media is lies...just come out with the truth and move on."

 

I sigh, wishing it were that easy.  "You don't understand, it's not lies.  Jessica is using information that I told her in confidence to manipulate me to play along.  My personal life is her bargaining chip for my fame."

 

"That's awful," Taylor answers.  "So I assume she's threatening you with much more than telling the world what you like to sleep in?"

 

"I wish that was all it was.  It's much worse though.  She's threatening a tell-all when it comes to my parents, their divorce when I was little, how that still affects me at times...Taylor, if that came out, I can't even begin to explain the pain that would inflict on my mom.  And it doesn't stop with my parents, there's Trace, too, me even...everything she knows she's willing to sell to a magazine if I don't continue her games."

 

A large intake of breath is the only sound the fills the room and I chance a glance in Taylor's direction.  Her eyes are slightly widened, her mouth in a tight line, and her eyes narrow in determination. 

 

"I don't know what to say, Justin," Taylor begins, her arms crossing in defiance across her chest.  "Other than I wish I would've punched her in the face when she was standing in front of me."

 

I laugh at her honesty.

 

"I mean, seriously, who the hell does she think she is?  Threatening you with such private information..."

 

Taylor's voice is rising with each word that comes out of her mouth and I can already see the protectiveness rearing its head. 

 

"I don't blame you one damn bit for coming out to Colorado...get the hell away from her."

 

I smirk.  "Yeah, but it doesn't solve anything and from the looks of it, only fueled her anger more."

 

Taylor shifts in the bed, pulling her legs up and tucking them underneath her.  "I can't believe she is getting away with this...she's blackmailing you and your family... We have to find a way to stop her, Justin."

 

"We?" I ask, suddenly curious.

 

She tilts her side to the side, giving me an exasperated look.  "Yeah, we.  I care a lot about you, if you haven't noticed, and the last thing I am going to do is stand around like nothing is going on."

 

I can't help but smile; really smile for the first time in a long time.

 

"I don't know how we're going to do it yet, Justin.  But we'll figure something out," she reiterates, her voice carrying the finality of her words.  "We have to.  There's no other option."

 

"Thank you, Taylor," I answer, knowing that those words don't possibly come close to explaining the feeling inside.  There's nothing like putting your faith and trust in someone, knowing they return that feeling wholeheartedly.  There's a bond, a strength that grows, and there's no doubt that the relationship forming between Taylor and I is getting stronger by the minute.  "I never would have imagined when I went to Colorado what was in store for me."

 

She laughs lightly.  "I hope that's a good thing."

 

"Absolutely," I say, shifting my legs a bit, "it's a great thing.  Listen, I hope I didn't interrupt anything earlier," I mention, gesturing to the binder she placed on the nightstand.  "I didn't mean to barge in on you."

 

She turns her head, a soft smile on her face as she looks at the old, worn leather.  "Nope, just a little reminiscing."

 

I nod my head, knowing that it is not my place to pry.

 

Taylor seems to be contemplating something as her eyes linger on the book.  Her lower lip is tucked in between her teeth, the soft flesh being rolled over and over again and her hands gingerly sneak out as she reaches for the binder.  Gently, she pulls it into her lap, her hands running over the cover in a soothing, comforting gesture. 

 

"I want to show you something," she says softly, patting the spot next to her.

 

Slowly, I begin to switch positions from stretching out at the foot of the bed to propping myself up on the pillows next to her.  As I settle in by her side, I can't help but take in the feeling of having Taylor leaning up against me, her warmth a pleasant contrast against my skin. 

 

She continues to stare at the book before turning her eyes up to meet mine, a sense of openness clearly written on her face.  "I take this book with me everywhere, every race, training session, time off...it serves as a reminder of how I got to where I am today.  It's my motivation to try harder, push a little more, stand a little taller."

 

She gently opens the cover, revealing a worn cover page filled with hundreds of little blurbs and signatures.  My eyes are trained on the delicate script, the different colored ink, everything blurring together in a mass of words, and yet, they all convey the same message of goodwill toward Taylor. 

 

"Every person that I have trained with, been coached by, my entire family, my friends...everyone has signed this.  I don't get the opportunity to spend time with them as often as I would like, so this helps me stay connected."

 

"It's amazing," I respond, totally floored by this opening page.  It's something so small, a few words on a page, and yet, I can tell just by the look on her face how much this means to her. 

 

"There's more," she begins, starting to thumb through the pages.  "I have kept everything that was ever important to me in the binder, kind of like a visual history of my life.  The races, the qualifiers, the crashes, the success and the heartbreak.  Everything you ever wanted to know is in here."

 

I feel slightly taken aback, looking at all the memories tucked away into pages.  There are hundreds of newspaper clippings, details on her every race, her crashes, her wins, the medals, and the interviews.  Everything she ever has done professionally is laid out in a collection of sorts. 

 

"This is unbelievable, Taylor.  You're always able to look back, to remember it all."

 

She smiles, a hint of sadness on her face.  "Yeah, I remember it all," she says, flipping the page and suddenly the clipping in front of us says One Man Dies in Car Crash. 

 

Instantly, I know exactly what she's showing me.  It's her biggest disappointment...never knowing her brother before he died.  My body stills in reaction to the paper and gently, Taylor lets her hand smooth over the headline, her breathing slowing. This is her way of opening herself up to me. 

 

Her soft voice breaks the tension forming around us.  "Tyler was killed in a car-accident.  He was driving home from a date with his girlfriend, just another normal Friday night.  I was in Colorado, training for the Turin Olympics, completely consumed in my life, my skiing, not caring about anything but myself when it happened.  When I got the phone call that Tyler had been killed by a drunk driver...some guy out for a joy ride after too many beers and he crossed the median."

 

"I am so sorry, Taylor," I answer, reaching my arm around her shoulder and cradling her much smaller body against my own.  Softly, I allow my hands to rub up and down her arms in a comforting gesture.  "I'm so sorry."

 

"Me too, Justin," she answers, her voice barely above a whisper as her arms encircle my waist.  "I never even got the chance to know him..."

 

"You can't blame yourself for this...you didn't know."

 

She sighs, the weight of the world evident in that gesture.  "I know that...I just can't seem to let go of the fact that I didn't make him more of a priority.  Skiing was everything, and it still is...I guess that's why I keep this," she answers, pushing herself upright again and allowing her eyes to fully travel over the pages.  "It reminds me never to take for granted the ones I love."

 

"You're an incredibly strong woman, Taylor, and I can honestly say that I'm a better person now for knowing you."

 

She scoffs, a slight smile on her lips.  "I don't know if I'd go that far...but thank you, Justin.  That means a lot to me."

 

I smile, reaching for her hand and entwining our fingers.  The gesture is meant to be a sign of comfort and reassurance that although we might not understand now, there's a reason Taylor and I were meant to meet, that together we're stronger than we were separate. 

 

"Will you sign the binder, Justin?" Taylor asks hesitantly.

 

Hearing her say those words, knowing that Taylor views me as someone important enough to encroach upon her most personal prized possession is hard to even describe.  The warmth from my chest is radiating throughout my body and its clutches are tightening their hold around my heart. 

 

"I would love to."

 

Taylor reaches for a pen on the nightstand before flipping the binder back to the front page.  The signatures and well wishes pop out throughout the page and I know that finding the right words will be important.  As I contemplate what to say, I find an open spot in the lower right hand corner before I grip the pen in my hand and begin to immortalize my place in her life.

 

Keep on believing and don't give in

You've got the strength to raise the win

Remember what one dream can do...

Love,

Justin

 

Chapter 16

 

 

Justin's POV

 

 

Last night certainly turned out different than I ever imagined.  The fight and run-in with Jessica, despite the feelings of rage, hurt, and utter anger, that her mere presence alone can ignite, the whole confrontation has forced me to deal with some of the issues I have been suppressing for over a year, the whole reason I ran to Colorado to begin with.   Although I prefer to avoid Jessica at all costs, for my own sanity, I can't regret the fact that that whole scene brought me face-to-face with my own demons and allowed me the opportunity to finally open my life back up to others.  For so long, I have lived in isolation, shutting people out before they can get too close, harboring the anger and rage within, allowing Jessica the power to still manipulate and control my life because I have been too scared to step up to the plate and take the power back.

 

And yet, last night, I took the first step in taking back my life...

 

I allowed Taylor into my world, to understand and live it, even if it was just for a fraction of time, she was a part of it...and I've never felt so free.  To finally trust someone with the secrets that haunt my dreams, to lift some of the burden placed on my shoulders at the hands of others, and to finally learn to lean on someone for strength. 

 

Taylor doesn't even realize the amount of trust and faith I have put in her, how easily she holds pieces of my heart.  She's become this drug to me, this sense of stability, light, and freedom.  I don't know how, or when, but Taylor's such a part of my life.  She's the one person that allows me the opportunity to forget and remember what my life was like before the fame.  She allows me to just be Justin.

 

I don't know what I am going to do in January when it's time to come back to California and Taylor heads off to Austria for the World Cup. 

 

So, I'm choosing to ignore the looming deadline and just focus on enjoying my time with her, which is what has led me to the kitchen, at this God-awful hour in the morning, clad in a pair of running pants, tennis shoes, and a t-shirt.  Reaching into the cabinets, I pull out two Nalgene bottles, filling them with water and set them on the counter.  I can already feel the intensity of what is about to happen, but I told her that I would make sure she stayed in tip-top shape for the Olympics, and I plan to follow through.  Before I can get anything else set up, I catch the faintest of sounds as she comes down the stairs and into the kitchen.

 

Rounding the corner, her eyes nearly bulge out of her skull and her hand immediately lands on her chest.  "Jesus, you scared the crap out of me.  What are you doing up?  It's 5:30 in the morning."

 

I laugh as she catches her breath and reaches for one of the bottles.  "I thought I'd join you on your run.  You know, stretch my legs, feel the burn kind of crap..."

 

She eyes me skeptically before unscrewing the cap and taking a sip of water.  "You sure?  I mean, it's just, I'm going out for at least two, three hours..."

 

I can't help but be a little intimidated, straight running, two or three hours, at the minimum.  Shit, I do shows that last for two hours, and I get a break every now and then, why do you think I throw in some time at the piano?  Knowing I am not about to look like a total pussy in front of her, I puff up my chest.  "Pfft...easy."

 

She rolls her eyes as she wraps a towel into the waistband of her running pants, slightly positioned off the right side of her leg.  Gathering her iPod, she secures the band around her arm before taking one last glance in my direction.  "Last chance to back out..."

 

"Try and keep up, Taylor."

 

The small laughter that fills the quiet, dark space of my kitchen is the sound I have come to find as such a comfort these last few weeks. 

 

Together, we run through some stretches in the backyard, loosening up our muscles and allowing our lungs to suck in the cool, crisp morning air.  Each push and pull on my muscles reminds me that I have been out of touring endurance capacity for quite some time now, not to say that I don't work out, just not on the same level that Taylor has been on for years.  Knowing this work out could get a little interesting; I push down the anxiety and stand up, helping Taylor onto her feet at the same time. 

 

"Ready?" she asks as we walk towards the side gate.

 

"Let's go," I tell her, closing and locking the gate behind us.  Almost immediately Taylor sets the pace, a fierce jog, much quicker than I anticipated for just the warm-up part of the run. 

 

Falling into step along-side her, I match my pace to hers and enjoy the quietness of the hills around us.  Too many times I spend the day speeding out of this area as fast as I possibly can, avoiding the prying eyes and camera flashes.  For once, it's nice to just be, wide-open, and amongst the cool morning breeze.  The sun is just barely peeking through the sky-line, its warm rays fighting for the opportunity to cast their light upon the world.  The glow from the sun and the lingering moon is just enough to light the path ahead of us.  The only sounds are the steady pounding of feet on the pavement and the intake of breath, a back and forth echo between the two of us. 

 

Rounding a corner, we start the trek up the hills, higher and higher, further away from the chaos below.  Taylor barely slows her pace to make the climb, her stride still as steady as before and I can already feel the familiar burn in my legs.  Each pound of her feet seems effortlessly and I realize then just how much I could be hurting by the end of this thing. 

 

"How are you holding up, Champ?" she asks, eyeing me skeptically.

 

"Never better," I rush out, trying to control my breathing.  The last thing I need to do is be huffing and puffing next to her.  But it's already been at least forty minutes of running up hill, at a fast clip, much faster than I normally would have taken this whole thing, and she's barely even registering the effort. 

 

This could be bad!

 

"Are you ready to head back to Colorado tonight?" I ask, again forcing air into my lungs, holding down the burn to inhale as fast as I can.

 

"Yeah, I miss the slopes.  I have so much still to do," she answers, her voice never faltering.  "Besides, Rob will be back tomorrow and I need to be back before him.  He'd kill me if he knew about this whole trip."

 

I nod my head, knowing that having her coach upset with her is the last thing I would want out of this whole thing.  This trip was all about getting to know Taylor more, opening up, remembering what my life was like prior to...well, everything, and I'd say it was more than a success.  Taylor's a part of my life, a very important part, and even though we're leaving California and the security of my house, I know that being back in Colorado is exactly what I need.

 

"What all do you have to do for the World Cup?" I ask, keeping pace with her as we reach the top of the hill.  Thankfully, the burn that was ever present in my thighs as we climbed that hill as slowed to just a small fraction of what it was and I can focus on actually keeping up. 

 

I realize how absolutely asinine it is to try and think that I can keep up with an Olympic athlete.  I am in no way shape or form on the same realm of physical fitness as Taylor; she's spent years preparing for what is merely two months away.  But for some reason, I have this need, this want to show her that I can do it...to impress her.

 

And I realize just how dangerous that emotion can be in this situation. 

 

Because when there's a need to impress, there's an attraction...and an attraction is definitely brewing.

 

"The World Cup is nothing and everything," she answers, snapping me back to reality.  "I don't have to win, hell; I don't even have to place.  But it's a confidence boost; it gives me one last chance to see where I measure up to my competition for Vancouver.  I'm going all out...no holding back."

 

There's something sexy about a woman that knows what she wants and goes after it...no holds barred.

 

"I wish I could be there," I answer, catching her eye.  "You know, to cheer you on."

 

She smiles brightly before picking up the pace even more.  "Me too.  But, if you can't make the World Cup, you should be in Vancouver.  That's the meet to be at."

 

I match her pace, my stride in full length as my legs continue to pound against the pavement.  "Is that an invitation to the Olympics, Taylor?"

 

She rolls her eyes and I can't help but smile at her.  "Like you couldn't get your hands on tickets..."

 

"True...but I am asking you," I tell her, a hint of seriousness in my voice, knowing that I am fishing for her to say it.

 

"We've talked about this before, Justin."

 

Clearly, she's dodging the question but if I am having difficulty determining where my head lies in all of this, maybe she is too.

 

"I know...but that's not what I just asked you, Taylor."

 

She sighs before turning her head and smiling.  "Yes, Justin, it would be nice to have you in Vancouver to support me."

 

Bingo!

 

I nod my head, acknowledging what she said and filing it away into the back of my mind.  Things are definitely blurring the lines of friendship between us, and I can't seem to care.  It's been so long since I've felt wanted...needed by someone that I welcome the opportunity.  However, before I can even respond, she suddenly picks up the pace of our run, leaving me struggling behind.

 

It's been an hour and a half of a run that started out a hell of a lot faster than I anticipated, up a gigantic hill, and now she's running at full tilt.  There's no way in hell I can keep up that pace for another hour and a half. 

 

Setting my mind to at least try, I widen my stride even further, pushing my chest upright and taking in a huge gulp of air.  Leveling my breathing, I try to find a comfortable pace, one that I can continue on with Taylor.  Thankfully, she rounds another corner and starts her descent back down the other side of the canyon.  The downhill is certainly a welcome terrain, one that eases the burn in my legs and lungs, even if it only lasts a little bit. 

 

Suddenly, the ground evens out and Taylor punches it again, quickening the pace to a near sprint.  Her body is moving fluidly, one giant motion, all in complete synchronization while I struggle just to keep my legs, arms, and lungs all functioning at this pace.  Realizing that I might collapse, and knowing what a complete moron I would look like, I finally have to admit defeat. 

 

"I'M DONE!" I call out, my chest heaving, my legs and lungs on fire, the burn more than I thought possible.  My endurance clearly not what it used to be and certainly not up to Taylor's level. 

 

Taylor suddenly stops, a smug smirk on her face as she walks back to where I am bent over, my hands on my knees.

 

"Well, I have to say you lasted a lot longer than I thought you were going to."  She laughs, a teasing tone clear in her voice.  "Almost two hours, Justin, at a seven to eight minute mile, for someone that hasn't been training day-in and day-out, that is pretty damn good.  I'm impressed."

 

Mission accomplished!

 

"Well, I'm glad.  Now, can we please go back?  Preferably at a speed that isn't a sprint?"

 

She laughs, grabbing the towel and wiping the sweat from her forehead before returning it to the place on her hip.  My eyes linger at the exposed skin, the glistening of sweat catching my eye and drawing me into the gentle curve of her hip and to the form fitting pants that hug the rest of her legs. 

 

"Let's cut through the trails over here, we'll come out just above where your house is." Her voice breaks my train of thought, snapping me back to the moment.

 

I stand up, my hands on my hips as I continue to catch my breath.  "How the hell do you know that?"

 

She rolls her eyes before walking in front of me.  "I told you I was going to run every day that we were here, didn't I?"

 

I laugh, knowing that Taylor is always full of surprises. 

 

Together we jog the rest of the way back to the house, at a much more reasonable pace.  The laughter and banter between us flows easily, allowing me the opportunity to soak up this moment.  The sun has made its full ascent into its rightful place high above us and its warm rays can be felt almost immediately.  It's our last day in California and as much as I would love to just relax, I know we have to pack everything up and meet up with Mike in a few hours.  Rounding the last corner, we make our way back into the backyard, immediately reaching for the water bottles. 

 

"Thanks for coming with, Justin.  It was nice to have some company," she responds, stretching out her tired limbs from the run, and again, I find my eyes being drawn to her body.  The subtle curve to her hips, her toned stomach, her well defined arms, all of a product of the work she puts into her career, and I can immediately feel my body react.  Terrified of getting caught, I quickly grab my water bottle and a towel, strategically placed, to head inside. 

 

"I'm going to hit the shower," I respond, fumbling for the door before yanking it open and stepping inside. 

 

What the hell?  I must look like a complete douche, scampering, yes, scampering, inside the door like that.  What am I, fourteen, again?  Shaking my head, trying to rid the thoughts that were quickly taking over my brain, and well, ugh, other areas of my body, I head upstairs to cool down.  Everything seems to be functioning on overdrive; clearly, I need to just chill the fuck out before I do something I regret.  The last thing in the world I need is to scare Taylor.

 

Taking a few calming breaths, I shake my head at the absurdity of what I was attempting this morning.  Trying to run with a full-time, Olympic athlete...obviously, I am delusional now, too. 

 

I grab some clothes to wear for the trip back to Colorado, setting them out on my bed before discarding my running shoes and socks.  Removing my shirt, I throw it into my closet and just as I hook my hands into the waistband of my shorts, Taylor bursts into my room.  My hands still in complete fear of nearly being caught totally naked, in a very, upright and at attention position.

 

"What the hell?" I yell.

 

Her eyes are huge, her chest is heaving and she looks like she just saw a ghost.  "Oh my God...we've been caught."

 

"Caught? What?" I ask, completely confused as the adrenaline rushes through my veins. 

 

Suddenly, she whips out her phone and puts it on speaker.  The deep, disapproving voice filling the small room as I take a few steps close to her, my eyes widening with each word that bellows out from the speaker.

 

"Taylor Jordan, I swear to God, if you don't get back to Colorado tonight, I am going to make you hike up the slopes carrying your skis in full gear.  Don't even think about turning your phone off, I am going to hound you until you answer but you better have a damn good explanation as to why you're not up here.  Call me, immediately; I want to talk to you...and your boy toy."

 

I look up, my eyes instantly looking into her fearful ones.  "Rob?"

 

"He knows..." she whispers.

 

Chapter 17

 

 

Taylor's POV

 

What the fuck was I thinking?  I mean, honestly, gallivanting off to California two months before the Olympics.  I clearly have lost all logical thought processes as a result of my new found friendship with Justin.  He blinks his eyes, begs me to come with, and I agree without even thinking about the possibility of getting caught.  I have lost my fucking mind.

 

"How the hell did he find out?" a voice breaks into my mental tirade, jarring me from the spurring thoughts flying all around at the moment.  It's the same question he's been asking since we left his house, drove to the airport, and flew back up into the clouds back to Colorado.  And the same question I have yet to figure out.

 

I shake my head, trying to clear my mind just to think for a second.  The roar of the plane engine isn't enough to dull the ache in my head or the thoughts running rampant in my brain.  I have no idea how Rob found out about Justin.  It just doesn't make any sense.  I left so quickly, so unpredictably, that no one could have possibly even realized I was gone.  Not to mention, no one even has a clue that Justin and I are friends. 

 

There's only one thing that keeps coming to mind.  There's only one way that he could possibly know that I am no longer in Colorado.

 

"He must have come home early," I answer, turning towards Justin.  I gently reach my arm out and steady it on his knee that has been continuously bouncing since the moment I told him we needed to head back.  "It's the only way he could possibly know I am not there."

 

"He's going to kill me, isn't he?"  Justin asks, the fear evident in his voice.

 

I crack a small smile, merely to try and placate him, but knowing that is definitely a possibility.  "He's going to kill me, Justin.  How could I be so stupid?"

 

Immediately the guilt is like a dead weight in the pit of my stomach.  I know better.  I have been fighting for a shot at the Olympics for my entire life and to so carelessly lose focus of that goal, even for one second, was an immature and reckless idea.  I deserve every bit of punishment coming my way.

 

The rest of the plane ride is made in uncomfortable silence.  Anxiety claws its way through the small cabin, holding both of us hostage. I can't seem to find the words to ease his fears or lessen the guilt riding through my veins, so I choose to say nothing at all.  Justin fidgets continuously, shifting from bouncing his legs, to wringing his hands, and clawing at his lips.  No matter what happens this was my choice, my mistake, and I will do whatever I can to ensure Justin doesn't walk away from this whole thing feeling one ounce of regret in asking me to come to California. 

 

If the plane ride was uncomfortable, the ride back to my cabin is almost unbearable.  My heart has gone into palpitations just thinking that Justin is about to come face-to-face with Rob, who has made it abundantly clear how disappointed he is in me, my choices, and the people I surround myself with.  He's called non-stop ever since California and the one time I answered his call I couldn't even get a word in through his lecturing.  He's been unloading on me and my voicemail for hours straight and Justin's had to listen to the whole thing.

 

Justin slowly pulls the SUV into my driveway, conveniently off to the side of Rob's truck, making sure both of them can leave without problems.  Together, we turn to give each other a look that is meant to be comforting, a gesture that is supposed to unite us as a team, but it only serves to amp up our nerves.

 

"Justin, I'm so sorry..." I manage to squeak out.  Because it's true, I am embarrassed and I am saddened that he is somehow getting wrapped up in all of this.  He came to Breckenridge for an escape, a break from reality.  I never meant to drag him into the pressure that comes with my career.

 

He raises his hand, gently placing a finger against my lips to stop anymore apologies.  "Don't apologize.  I asked you to California, knowing full well that you should be training and focusing on the World Cup and Olympics.  So, I am sorry that I got you in trouble."

 

I let out a breath of air, realizing that both of us could go back-and-forth on who is to blame for hours but all we're doing is prolonging the inevitable.  It's probably better to just get it done, like a band-aid, just get it over with. 

 

"We should go inside."

 

Justin nods his head, popping his door and stepping out.  Together we walk the short distance up to my small house and before I can even get my keys out to unlock the door, it's whipped open.

 

"About goddamn time, you two," Rob answers, his tone harsh but full of relief at seeing us.  "Get inside, now."

 

Quickly, we walk in and I realize that this is the first time Justin has ever been in my house.  What a great impression I am making.

 

Rob ushers us into the living room, taking a spot on the piano bench and forcing Justin and I to sit together on the loveseat, facing him.

 

"What the hell were you thinking, Taylor?" he asks, not even wasting one second, just picking up right where the phone calls have left off at.

 

"Clearly, I wasn't," I answer, knowing that getting into an arguing match with Rob will only up the punishment in training tomorrow. 

 

"Do you realize that you could have been photographed at any moment out there?  That one slip and this whole thing could blow up in both of our faces," he says, his words getting louder as his body keeps leaning further forward.  "To be so reckless with your career...to be so immature..."

 

Suddenly, another voice breaks into the whole argument.  "If I can interject..."

 

Rob's eyes are livid as he looks over at Justin for the first time.  "No, you can't.  Do you realize the danger you put her in by taking her out to California?  Do you realize the damage that could happen if a picture leaks of her out there?"

 

"I made sure she was protected."  Justin's voice is strong and steady, which surprises me based on the nerves that were just rolling off of him the entire trip back.

 

"You don't get it.  Taylor is not like you.  She never will be," Rob responds, his voice taking on a sense of urgency.   "You're a famous singer, Taylor is an athlete.  Your worlds are so vastly different in how they operate.  You make a mistake and what happens, a few stories end up in the tabloids, a few people believe the hype, others don't, and once the storm blows over everyone is back to kissing your ass.  If there's bad press surrounding Taylor, the sponsors pull her, which means no financial support, no top-of-the-line equipment, no promotion, and definitely no place on the U.S. Olympic team.  You have no idea what could happen as a result of this."

 

Justin swallows, his breathing a little quicker as the realization sinks in further.

 

"Rob, I was careful and Justin did protect me from the paparazzi.  No one knows I was out there."

 

"I don't care if he put you in an invisible ball and walked around with you that way.  It was stupid, dangerous, and careless.  Your teammates have been practicing their asses off in Vail, believing you were doing the same here."

 

The minute he brings my teammates into all of this, the dread settles into my stomach.

 

"Did you forget about the fact that you guys compete as a team?  That you are not only jeopardizing your hopes at a medal, but your teammates as well?"

 

"I'm sorry," I answer, because I truly am and there's nothing else I can say to make it better.

 

Rob exhales slowly, shaking his head.  "You should be.  I come back to your house, realize it's empty so I head up to the hill, thinking you're out practicing and can't find you anywhere.  Josh informs me that he hasn't seen you in days but knows you've been spending time with Justin and come to think of it, Justin hasn't been around either."

 

Justin lowers his head, a bit of embarrassment rolling off his shoulders. 

 

"You're lucky Josh is a friend and that it was me who figured this whole thing out and not someone else.  Honestly, Taylor, I'm so mad at you right now I don't even know what to say.  All of the work we've put in, the sacrifices could have easily been for nothing," the disappointment clear in his tone.  Turning to Justin, he unleashes a little more of his anger. "And you, I haven't even met you, but I already have a bad first impression."

 

Justin raises his head, looking Rob directly in the eyes.  "I'm sorry for taking Taylor to California.  If I had known exactly the repercussions-"

 

Rob cuts him off.  "You didn't.  And as much as I want to blame you for all of this, Taylor makes her own decisions, so I apologize for acting like a dick.  But you both need to realize her career and livelihood as an Olympic athlete is at stake here."

 

Justin nods his head.  "I understand."

 

And to my utter astonishment, they both stand and shake hands.  My mouth literally falls open at the scene happening above me.  Rob, who two seconds ago was going to rip us apart, is shaking Justin's hand, man-to-man, and letting us off the hook, just like that.

 

"So, that's it," I ask, standing to meet the two of them.

 

"For Justin, yes.  He's not my priority.  You, on the other hand, are still in for a lecture the size of Texas and one hell of a training session tomorrow morning," Rob answers, turning to shake Justin's hand one more time and heading for the door.  "Bring all of your equipment tomorrow...you're climbing the hill in full gear first thing in the morning...and that's only the beginning."

 

I groan but immediately snap my mouth shut when Rob looks at me.  He's merely being polite and trying to save-face by excusing himself right now while Justin's around.  The look in his eyes conveys his disappointment and his promise to unload all of his anger tomorrow.

 

"Justin, I'm sure I will be seeing you around, but I suggest staying out of the picture for the next couple of days while Taylor and I get back to it."

 

Justin nods his head in understanding.  "No problem, again, I'm sorry."

 

Rob gives me one less disapproving look before shutting the door and leaving the two of us in silence.  A part of me is ashamed, both because I brought Justin into this whole mess and the other because none of this would have happened if I just said no and kept my ass firmly planted in Colorado.

 

"Justin, I'm so-"

 

He cuts me off quickly.  "I can't take anymore apologies.  I think we both can agree that it was probably not the best move to take off to California together.  But I'm not going to apologize for the fact that I had a great time with you either."

 

I can feel the blush rushing into my cheeks and I bow my head slightly.  "I did, too.  I'm going to pay for it tomorrow but..."

 

Justin laughs, a small smile covering his face.   "I should probably get back to my cabin, let you get settled."

 

I nod my head in agreement, as much as I have enjoyed being with Justin everyday, the reality of this whole situation hangs precariously in the balance.  I have a job to do, a career to hang onto, and whole lot of people counting on me right now.  I can't allow my focus to stray, not for anything, or anyone.

 

Justin slowly grabs my hand and squeezes it before leaning over and gently kissing my cheek.  "Call me later," he whispers, his breath blowing across my skin.

 

"Yep," I manage to squeak out before he leaves the living room and walks out the door.  How he does that, I'll never know.

 

So much for keeping my focus.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 18

 

Justin's POV

 

The sun has begun to creep up over the mountain, its light basking the sweeping hills in all its glory.  A few shimmering waves cresting over the hill can be seen from atop the chairlift as it continues its steady climb upward.    There's a chill that immediately whips through with the wind, snapping any kind of sense of serenity fooled by the beauty of the landscape.  It's cold, bitterly cold.

 

Snapping my board up underneath my feet, I grab hold of the edge of the chair and slide off the seat smoothly.  Grabbing a spot on the makeshift bench, I buckle my feet into the board and linger on the bench for a second.

 

It's been almost a week and a half since Taylor and I returned from California and exactly a week and a half since I last spoke to her.  To say that Rob was mad at us would be the understatement of the century.  He's made it abundantly clear that me getting in between Taylor and her training is not an option while he's around...and to be honest, I don't blame him one damn bit.  The World Cup starts in two days for Taylor, and now is the time to focus, get her head in the game, and prove to the world just how hard she's worked for the past several years.  Although selfishly, I miss her presence both on and off the hill, I have respected the fact that Taylor has a job to do and she doesn't need anyone getting in the way of that. 

 

While I have made it a point to back off and allow Taylor the space needed, she's reached out to me in a few texts, letting me know how busy things have gotten.  My favorite text was a quick picture of herself hauling her ski equipment up the hill as a punishment for our impromptu vacation.  Other than the occasional text, that has been the extent of my communication with her, and I am really starting to miss her.  It doesn't help that her flight leaves tonight for Austria and it will be several days before I am able to see her again.

 

Finally, I kick away from the bench and meander towards the edge of the hill, waiting to plummet to the bottom.  I secure my goggles over my head and jump towards the edge, straightening my board out and begin the descent.  The wind, the chill in the air, and the sound of snow cutting against my board, it's been my life for weeks now, and I can't imagine leaving soon. 

 

I spend the entire morning and afternoon out on the slopes, just taking in the anonymity and enjoying the fresh powder that came late last night.  Despite my intention of staying out on the hill for most of the night it was the text that I received around four o'clock that has me packing up and heading back home.

 

Be at your house 5:30, want to say bye.

 

I smile, knowing I will finally get a chance to be with Taylor again.  If I'm being honest, Taylor has become a huge part of my happiness here.  I don't know what that means for when I go back to California, but for now, I am content to let things play out the way they are.

 

As I make the turn up the hill back towards my house, I spot the familiar SUV in the driveway and its driver is leaning up against the hood of the car.  Swiftly, I pull into the spot next to Taylor's car and kill the engine.

 

"About damn time, Timberlake, I don't have all night," she quips, a smile adorning her face.  Damn, I missed that smile.

 

I laugh.  "A little warning next time, Jordan, and I will make sure I am available at your command."

 

She giggles before walking over to me and wrapping her arms around my neck.  I inhale the vanilla sweet scent that I instantly recognize as Taylor.  Squeezing her gently before letting her go, I take a step back and smile.

 

"I am leaving at ten o'clock tonight, I was hoping we could spend the evening together before I take off," she says, a hint of shyness in her voice while holding up a movie.

 

Nodding my head, I grab my bag from the backseat and swing it up on my shoulder.  "Absolutely, I'm glad you were just able to come over here.  Rob let you loose for a day?"

 

Together we walk side-by-side towards the house and step inside.  "Rob has no clue I am here.  To his knowledge, I am spending my free hours packing everything up.  I have to meet him at nine o'clock back at my house."

 

"Are you all ready to go for tomorrow?" I ask, throwing my bag near the closet before walking further into the house.

 

"Yes, I spent the last few days getting everything together.  I wanted to make sure I had time to say goodbye before I left," she answers, following me into the kitchen and pulling up a stool.

 

I throw open the refrigerator and reach for a couple bottles of water, knowing Taylor probably shouldn't be drinking anything else.  I toss her a bottle and smile.  "I'm really glad you're here," I answer honestly.

 

She twists the cap and takes a drink.  "Me too."

 

"Well, what'd you bring?" I ask, motioning towards the movie she set on the counter.

 

"Future Sex/Love Show - Madison Square Garden."

 

I nearly choke on my water.  "You're kidding, right?"

 

She laughs before standing up and walking towards the living room.  "What?  I haven't ever seen you in concert."

 

I follow behind.  "There is no way I am going to sit here while you watch my concert."

 

Sitting down on the couch, she tosses me the DVD in her hand.  "Calm down, it's just Back to the Future."

 

I give her an accusing look before sliding in the movie and throwing myself down next to her.  As the opening credits begin to flicker across the screen, I take notice of the black nylon pants that are adorning her long legs, all the way up to the red sweatshirt that covers her arms, and how her hair is piled loosely on top of her head.  She looks beautiful, just being herself.

 

"Are you ready for the World Cup?" I ask, not really caring about the movie at all.  I just want to spend time with Taylor, whether that's watching a movie or talking.

 

She takes a deep breath before sliding her blue eyes towards me, and I can tell she's excited for what lies ahead.  "Yeah, I am.  I've never been more prepared for a race than I am going into this one.  While it's not the Olympics, it's pretty much the closest thing I am going to get towards it.  All the same racers will be there, all the same courses."

 

I nod my head, not really fully understanding how these races are orchestrated.  "And these races give you the final rankings before the Olympics."

 

Taylor shifts, turning her body towards me while tucking her legs up underneath her.  "Yeah, depending on how well I do, this will determine ranking and probability of gold in Vancouver."

 

"No pressure or anything."

 

She smiles.  "Exactly." 

 

"So, what's in store for you when you get there?"

 

"A ton of press junkets right away.  I'll meet up with my other teammates, check into our lodge, and then head straight to press," she answers, scrunching up her nose.  She's not a big fan of the formal questions.

 

"Hopefully it won't be too bad." 

 

"I would rather just hit the slopes right away; get a feel for the snow, for the mountain."

 

"Understandable."

 

A deep sigh escapes her lips and she tilts her head toward me.  "What are your plans for the week?  Hitting the slopes here?"

 

"Definitely will be spending time on the mountain.  I might have my buddy fly up here as well.  It's been quite a while since I last saw him and he's been on my ass lately.  So, I might appease him just to stop his badgering."

 

She laughs, and it's that sound that I will most the most.  "Don't punish him too bad on the slopes while I'm away."

 

"Right.  Well, I have to keep practicing so that I can beat you when you get back."

 

"You want to race again?  Didn't you learn your lesson the last time?"

 

"I have to get back some of my pride.  Hopefully I don't crash and burn again."

 

She smiles.  "When I get back, we'll definitely have a day out there again."

 

"Good.  I'll hold you to it," I tell her, knowing that spending time with her has quickly become an important part of my life.  She gets me.  We live such different lives and yet there's a kinship, a bond, that I never would have guessed was possible until that day she literally skied into my life.  Taylor is unlike any other girl I have ever dated.  She's carefree, protective, and thoroughly dedicated to her craft.  There is no underlying motive or agenda with her.  She gives her friendship and loyalty with only one expectation in return, and that's to get that some respect back.

 

It's in that moment I realize that I could, and very well might be, falling for Taylor.

 

"I have something for you," I tell her, before standing up and walking into the bedroom to grab a small present for her.

 

During the past week, I had been worried whether or not I would get an opportunity to give her a gift before she left for the World Cup.  After reading her memory book in California, I realized how important those mementos and tokens are to Taylor.  They help ground her and keep her focused on her goals, which is why I finally figured out what to give her before she left. 

 

Grabbing the small jar wrapped in a box, I walk back into the living room and sit down next to Taylor.  She immediately eyes the package in my hands with a little trepidation.

 

"Justin, you did not need to get me anything."

 

I quickly brush her concern away.  "I wanted to, besides, it's just a little something to remind you of home while you're in Austria."  I hand it over but not without giving her explicit instructions first.  "Don't open that until you get there."

 

She eyes me skeptically. 

 

"Please, it won't make much sense until you're there anyway."

 

"You really didn't need to do this.  Thank you, Justin.  It really means a lot to me."

 

I sit back on the couch, happy that she took it without much of a fight.  "You're welcome."

 

Together, the two of us lounge back into the couch, our focus back on the movie.  With each scene that flashes by on the screen, it's another minute and hour that slips away before Taylor has to leave.  I always knew she would be leaving, that she had the World Cup coming up, I guess I never realized how much having her presence around was beginning to mean to me.  Although she will be back, it bothers me that I can't be there to support her in person, or that I can't cheer her on from the finish line.  This race is the last step until the greatest stage in the world.  What she is about to do makes standing up and singing at Madison Square Garden look like child's play.  

 

It's in that moment that I realize I am in awe of the strength and determination that resides in Taylor to go after a dream of achieving an Olympic medal. 

 

Suddenly, Taylor pipes in breaking off my thoughts, "What's got you looking so serious over there?"

 

I smile, knowing that if I voice what I was just thinking, it will only serve to embarrass Taylor.  "Nothing, just thinking about your races coming up."

 

"Well, stop," she says, playfully shoving me, "you'll make me nervous."

 

I laugh.  "I'm sorry, I'll let it drop."

 

"Good," she jokes.  Suddenly, she shifts her legs and faces me.  "I haven't even been around much since we came back from California.  Has there been any kind of backlash from our run in with Jessica at the restaurant?"

 

I shake my head.  "Not much, a few texts, which isn't out of the ordinary, threatening me to return and call her."

 

"How can you stand it?"

 

"As sad as it is to say this, I'm used to it at this point.  As long as I am thousands of miles away from her, I can find a way to deal with it.  It's certainly not ideal, but it gives me a chance to think rationally about the whole thing."

 

"You shouldn't have to deal with this, no one does," Taylor says, a hint of annoyance and frustration coming through her voice.

 

I sigh, knowing it's not Taylor's issue, but feeling the strength of having her on my side nonetheless.  "I'll find a way out of this...I've got to."

 

"When I get back, we'll figure it out."

 

"You have the Olympics after this...I think you have bigger things to deal with."

 

"You're important to me, Justin.  I'm through putting my career ahead of the people in my life.  I've made that mistake before and I won't keep repeating the cycle.  We can figure this out around my schedule for the games too."

 

I can't help but smile at her declaration, despite still knowing I won't allow her to get caught up in the dysfunction of my life.  "Don't worry, Taylor, she can't do anything while I'm out here anyway."

 

"Good, maybe you'll have to move out here permanently then."

 

I chuckle.  "I have to give up the rental property at the end of February, unfortunately."

 

"Well, you can move into my house then."

 

I raise my eyebrows.  "We're moving in with each other now?"

 

She blushes and it's the most adorable thing I have seen in a while, especially on someone so strong willed as Taylor. 

 

"You know what I mean," Taylor hedges.

 

Just then her cell phone starts ringing, breaking the moment and releasing Taylor from having to explain anything any further.  Grabbing the small phone from her pocket, she silences the ringing before looking up at me.

 

"I set an alarm to warn me when I needed to leave.  Rob doesn't know I am up here and I don't think you or I need to get on his bad side anymore," she explains.

 

I laugh.  "No, definitely not."

 

She tucks her phone back into her sweatshirt and grabs my present before standing up.  "I have to go, Justin."

 

I reluctantly stand, not wanting the night to come to an end so soon.  "I get it."

 

She gives me a half-hearted smile before taking a deep breath.  "I'll be thinking about you while I'm there.  Wish me luck?"

 

Her nervousness is apparent in her goodbye and suddenly it dawns on me that letting her leave the same way she came in here is not an option.  Things with Taylor have never been merely about friendship for a while now, and it takes her leaving, knowing I can't be there, for me to realize that she means more to me than just a snow hill buddy.  I grab the present and gently set it down on the couch before taking Taylor's hands into my own.  I can feel a small tremble in her tiny hands and I don't know if it's all her own or an extension of mine.

 

"I don't think you need any luck, Taylor.  You are more than ready to show the world you're a force to be reckoned with.  You're going to be great, and I can't wait to see you and celebrate when you get back."

 

She smiles, gently squeezing my hands, unknowingly giving me the strength to make the next move.  Slowly, I pull her hands to my sides, releasing them to wrap my arms around her waist.  With her trapped in my arms, I can feel the steady rise and fall of her chest, the short intakes of breath escaping from her lips, and the wide, bright blue gaze pulling me in.

 

"I'll miss you, but I'll be damned if I am going to let you walk out of here without kissing you first." 

 

And with no hesitation, I lower my head and press my lips firmly against hers. 

 

Her shock is evident, the small gasp, the intake of breath, and the rigidness in her stance are all tell-tale signs.  But just when I think I might have gone too far, she slowly begins to mesh her lips to mine and deepen the kiss. 

 

Her hands sink deeper into my back, pulling me closer and I can't help but respond, because damn if this isn't exactly what I have wanted to do for some time now.  Gently, her lips part and her tongue snakes out to brush against my lower lip.  That one little gesture is enough to unlock the flood gates that I have been holding so tight to my chest since I started feeling an attraction to Taylor.

 

I shift my head, bringing my hand up to gently cup the side of her neck and pull her closer.  As I start to feel myself spinning out off control, her phone loudly rings again, jolting us away from each other. 

 

She is staring up at me, a dazed look in her eyes and her lips swollen from the kiss.  A feeling of complete possessiveness flows through my veins knowing I am responsible for that look, and I love it.  She's beautiful.

 

"I really have to get going, Justin," she stammers, once again grabbing the present and shuffling toward the door. 

 

I nod my head since words are completely failing me at the moment.

 

"Thank you again," she says, lifting the box upward before turning the handle and opening the door.

 

"You're welcome," I respond, thankful that my voice held.

 

"I'll see you when I get back."

 

I take a few steps toward her, closing the distance before leaning down and kissing her cheek.  "Be safe, Taylor."

 

That adorable blush heats her cheeks one last time before she nods her head and disappears into the cold night.

 

I watch as she hops into her vehicle and backs out of the driveway, before slowly closing the door.  Leaning against the wood frame, I can still feel the softness of her lips, the curve of her neck, and the heat of her body from just a few moments ago.  It lingers in my head, playing in a continuous loop, and I can't wait until she comes back.  Because things with Taylor have certainly changed and there's no going back, even if I wanted to.