Chapter 36

Trace's Room, 3:25 p.m.

It's been a rough week.  I think Courtney and I have broken up.  I mean, I haven't even spoken to her in three days, ever since Atlanta.  I don’t know, maybe it’s just a coincidence.  Maybe I’m an idiot.  We've been busy with interviews and shit, but still.  You have to make a point to avoid someone in a business like this.  It's not easy to do with Justin and Mere doing stuff together all the time.

But she has avoided me.

And I don't blame her one bit.

Sometimes I sit here and think to myself how much of an asshole Justin is, how fucking mean he can be straight to someone's face and just not give a shit about it afterwards.  But then I think about myself and sometimes I'm worse of an asshole than he is, because I’m sneaky about it.  I put on this face and this front that I'm a nice, easy going, out to have a good time guy....but really, I'm a fucking asshole.  I put him before her.  And maybe, ya know, maybe that's how it's always going to be.  Maybe I know, personally, that until I'm not his assistant anymore, Justin Timberlake is going to be my fucking life.  As gay as it is.  As much as it makes me a pathetic little faggot.

But it's not fair to her.  At all.  She deserves to have someone, to have a man fucking love her and show her that she is the most important thing to him.  I want to be that for a woman again.  I want to be that rock, to show her she's it for me.  Good god, I want to be that for her.  I want to be in love with her.  I just don’t know how.  Maybe I'm more fucked up than I realize.

Maybe I should tell her about me and Justin. 

Maybe I should tell her about me and Elisha. 

God, maybe I should just figure out what the hell I want instead of being a little pussy all the time.

A quiet, buzzing noise goes off and I look up and yawn. I watch Justin pick his phone off of the coffee table in front of us, look at it, flip it open, smile for a minute and then start texting something.

I’m assuming it’s Meredith.  We arrived in D.C. early, early this morning.  They have a show tomorrow night.  Justin didn’t have much press, just a phone-in radio spot a couple hours ago, but Meredith had a meeting and some in-house interviews to go to.  They rode separately here, which was one of the first times they’ve done it all tour.  I know he misses her.  I know that’s one of the reasons he’s hanging out with me.

I know another reason is that he feels bad, even pity.  Maybe.

But it’s something.  I give him credit for trying, no matter how lame it is.

"They done?"  I ask and look back at the TV, watching a commercial for some financial advising company.

"Yeah."  He says and then tosses his phone haphazardly onto the coffee table.  I should tell him it’s gonna break again.  He has a habit of breaking his phones.  But he won’t listen.  He doesn’t care.  He’ll just go get a new one, a better one.

The tournament comes back on and Justin’s quiet as Mickleson comes up to put for birdie.  I ask him, “You wanna go see her?"

"Nah, we're hanging."

I watch him as he stares at the TV for a moment before I turn and look, just in time to see Mickleson make the put.  The hush, the tension that happened before it got in, the crescendo of shock in people’s tones and the eruption of applause as the ball goes in: it’s all something I like to experience whether on TV or there in person.  People say watching golf on TV is boring as hell, but I like it.  I like it a lot.  I’ve started liking it a lot more now that Justin’s gotten me into playing the game.

We use to play when we were kids, just shitting around, pretending like we knew what we were doing.  But I stopped in middle school and got more into football and basketball.  He’d do it every now and then, but about 5 years ago he got back into it, really back into it.  So I guess, so have I. 

“God, he's good," I say.

"Ya know…” Justin sighs, scratches his head and keeps watching, “We should see if we can like, I don’t know, play a round with him."

Sometimes I want to laugh at him when he says shit like this, when he uses his celebrity in front of me.  He doesn’t flaunt it, he knows I don’t give a shit, but at the same time it sounds pretty ridiculous.

But it’s not ridiculous, ‘cause I know if Justin called up Phil Mickleson’s people they’d more than likely agree to 18 holes one day and I’d be right there with him. Excited.  Fucking giddy like a loser.

"So we can embarrass ourselves?"

He shrugs. "Hey, I don’t think it'd be embarrassing."

"Oh excuse me Mr. Woods,” I roll my eyes at him and he laughs at me a little. “I'm not that great at it.  You know this!  You know I only golf ‘cause you make me."

"You like it.  All the balls and sticks get you hard."

I roll my eyes.  He's so fucking mature.  "Fag."

So am I.

It's quiet again for a while and after a few moments of silence he clears his throat and leans forward against his knees, spinning his phone around on the table with his finger, not looking at me.  "Speaking of...”

I stare at him, he doesn’t look at me and I can tell he’s suddenly nervous about something.  Shit.

I think I know where this is going.

"You and Courtney doing ok?  You haven’t been around her much."

I laugh and shake my head at him.  "This isn't gonna work."

"I'm..." He sighs and plops back against the couch. "I'm fucking trying Trace, ok?"  He runs his hand over his face like he's in miserable pain. I almost have pity for him.  I know he doesn’t give a shit about her and me, but he's doing it because he's trying to be my friend again, trying not to be an asshole.  Well, it’s a little too late.  I don’t hate Justin, not at all, but he can't just expect me to forget everything that happened and be buddy-buddy with him again, dishing to him every sordid detail about me and Courtney's relationship.  I don’t want him to know, ‘cause I know he'll just be gagging on the inside.  And I know there's nothing I can do or say to make him like her any more.  It’s a fucking lost cause.

"You just can’t expect me to take all that shit back and be all cool with it again, ‘cause I know you aren’t asking ‘cause you’re interested.  You’re asking ‘cause you have to."

"I don’t have to do anything."  He starts to pout a little.  It's almost pathetic.  I know he and his girl had some big heart to heart the other day about the whole pregnancy thing and I guess maybe he's trying to change his bad attitude for her a little bit.  I say good for her for making him change.  But it's too fucking late for me.  He can't expect me to just ignore it all.  He can't. 

"I'm trying to be nicer for my sake, ‘cause if I don’t get my act together, I'm gonna lose Mere.  And maybe you, too.  And you know I can't fucking do..."

God he makes it sound like we're fucking dating or something.  I gotta end this conversation quick.  It's making me feel weird.

"I know."  I say as nicely as I can. "I just feel weird talking about her with you, alright?" He just stares off into space a little bit.  I sigh, "So you and Mere good?"

He keeps staring and nods.  "Yeah, we're working on stuff.  I love that girl to death, but I swear we're both fucking basket cases sometimes."

I laugh. "It's why you get along so well."

He doesn’t laugh, but sighs heavily and finally, after a while, looks over at me. "It's so weird Trace.  I swear it’s like Britney all over again.  But not.  I shouldn’t compare them but everything I loved about her...I love about Mere.  But deep down, Mere's got a lot more backbone.  I don’t know.  I just see it like this is my second chance to make sure this one works out, ya know?”

"Don't compare them," I warn.  Crap, he knows better than that.  "I know it's easy to do, but they are different. Very different.  Don't bring yourself into that arena, ‘cause it's gonna be dangerous."

"I know you're right.  I need to love her for her, for being my girl and not because she's halfway like my ex.”  He pauses and shakes his head.  “I swear those bitches fucked us up man."

"Yeah, but you've had more time to get over yours.  You really need to stop thinking about it."

"I have!  I have!  Seriously, I rarely think of her. I guess, just lately I've been doing a lot of recollecting over my life, ya know?  Trying to figure out what the fuck I want."

I laugh and can't stop it.  He's so ridiculous sometimes, getting in these really contemplative moods.  He's got the best fucking life out there and he starts re-thinking his decisions sometimes.  It's insane.  Or maybe I'm insane.  I used to never be this cynical about my best friend.  I used to never be this much of a fucking downer.  "That's dangerous.  You thinking is always dangerous."

"Shut up."

“It is!" 

He picks up his phone, glances at it, sighs, and I stare at him as I say, "You’ll start thinking and then you'll get these grand ideas and then who fucking knows what will happen." He's still looking at his phone and I can tell that he's getting antsy. 

He wants to go see her.  I don't blame him.  I mean, I know Justin's pussy whipped like no other. but if I had a girl that was that in love with me, I’d want to be around her all the time, too.  I wish Courtney would be in love with me.  That's unfair to say.  God I’m an asshole.

"Look, go see your girl."

He holds his phone in his hand, but leans back against the couch, staring up at the TV. "Nah, I wanna hang out."

"Justin..."  He looks at me.  "You know Mickelson is going to win this shit.  Go hang out with your woman. Y’all have had a crazy few weeks with her getting sick and the big pregnancy thing."

He shrugs but won’t look me in the eye, "I just feel bad, ya know?"

I know what he means.  He doesn’t just feel bad for leaving right now.  He means he feels bad about it all, every bit of it.  I can see it in his face.  I know he won't apologize and I know he doesn't have to.  He knows he acted like a jack ass.  He knows he's done some things that aren't cool.  His pride won't let him say sorry, but he's trying.  I know he's trying to make this up to me. 

It's so weird.

We use to be able to read each other by just a glance.  I use to know exactly what he needed or was thinking and he was the same with me.  If an asshole was digging in too deep in an interview, if a hot chick had a hot friend, if he needed a five minute break to call his mom about something. But now, something’s happened in the past few months, I can blame it on Courtney, I can blame it on Meredith, but I know damn well it started before they ever came into our lives. 

As much as I hate to say it, we're growing apart.  He's trying to stop it.  He's trying to ignore it.

But I guess in some weird way I've accepted it.  I guess I’m getting burnt out by being his friend.  What a shitty thing to say.

Now who's the asshole?

"Get over it."  I laugh and wave my hand at him. "We're cool."

"Alright well...." He stands up and stretches.  "Maybe we can all do something later, go out for supper or something."

I roll my eyes, a double date with him and Courtney? Yeah...right.  "Just go..."

He flips me off and immediately starts dialing his phone, then presses it to his ear.  He gets to the door and turns, saying to me, "Hey, good job on the line.  I'm proud of you man."
 
I don't say anything in response.  I’ve tried to push it from my mind.  I’ve tried not to fidget over it or get too antsy.  He came in an hour earlier and I was on the phone with some people that are interested in the line.  He asked me about it after I hung up.  I didn't lie to him, I told him the truth.  He seemed genuinely happy for me, interested, excited.  I didn’t tell him everything I was thinking, though.  I couldn’t.  Not yet.

He stares at me and pushes the door open.  My eyes widened when I see who's standing on the other side, about to get hit, her hand raised into a fist, ready to knock.  She steps away quickly and looks up at Justin with a blank stare. 

Shit.  World War 3 is about to happen.

Then, miraculously, Justin just says, "Hey..."  Not really excited or angry...it's just there.

I blink and swallow the lump in my throat. He holds the door open for her as she walks in, his arm stretched over the door, pushing it inward.  She seems as shocked by it as I am. "Oh, hi," Courtney says.

She looks at me for a moment and then back at Justin and he waves, "Later y’all." He lets his arm slide off from the door and leaves.  It closes with a heavy noise, not a slam, but a deep thud.  And just like that he’s gone and she’s here.

She’s finally here.

She walks into the room, sets her bag on the floor by the couch, and points over her shoulder with her thumb, "Does he have a twin I don’t know about?"

"He's turned a new leaf..." I say and look up at her.  God, she looks so fucking good. Maybe it’s because I haven’t really been alone with her in a few days, but maybe it’s because she really is looking damn sexy.  She's got on a skirt and blouse and looks a little more dressy, but not as preppy or uptight as she normally does. "Damn, hey."

"Hey..." She runs her hands through her hair that's down and straight and silky looking.  She sits down on the couch, right where Justin was and says, "We need to talk about some stuff."

I suck in a breath.  Here we go.  I don’t know what I'm going to have to do, but I'm going to do it to try to keep her from breaking up with my poor ass. I’ve tried to act like it wouldn’t matter and wouldn’t bother me.  But now that she’s here right in front of me, I realize how much I’ve fucking missed her.

Like my stomach feels weak and my breathing is shallow.  She’s here with me, but I want her closer.

I lean forward on my knees, resting against my elbows and I stare at her.  "Yes, yes we do."

I debate getting up from this loveseat and sitting with her on the couch, but for now I stay still, just staring at her.

"So..."

I start speaking faster than I can think, "Can I go first, please?  I just, I have a feeling if I don’t, you're gonna break up with me right now and I'd like to talk to you first before you make up your mind."  

She only stares at me and I know, I know in that look that that's what she really did have planned to do when she came in here.  She was going to break up with me and she doesn't refute it.  "I want to apologize for being an ass lately.  It doesn't make it better but I need to say it.  I've fucked up with you Courtney.  I know I have.  I've put other people, Justin, hell…myself, over you and I shouldn’t.  You're my girl and you should be number one in my life."

"No, I shouldn’t.  I'm not asking to be your everything, Trace.  We're not in love, we're just-"

I cut her off.  I'm still not thinking clearly. "What if I want to be?"  I suck in a breath.  She still just stares at me.  "What if I want to fall in love with you?"

Did I really just say that out loud to her?  She blinks. Only blinks at me.

Shit.  I really did.

She sighs and shakes her head.  Her shoes slide off and she pulls her legs up on the couch with her, holding herself around her knees.  Her skirt dips down a little bit and I tell myself not to be a pervert and look. "You make it seem like it’s a decision you can make, like you can turn it on...and off."

I can’t stop looking.

"No...no…” I say, still staring at her, not really hearing what I say.  “But I can hold myself back.”

It doesn’t work.  I just keep staring.  I have to stand up and sit down beside her so that I don’t stare at the underneath of her thighs, creamy white and smooth, begging me to touch them.  

“I can close myself off, keep pushing you away and make you hate me.  I can do that and make this stop.  And maybe deep down that’s what I wanted ‘cause I was scared of how serious this was getting.  But now...now I don’t wanna make you hate me.  I want to be in love Courtney."

I look her in the eye and lean into her a little, but she just shakes her head and puts down her legs.  "How could you even say that when you’re in love with your best friend?"

"I'm not..."

"God dammit Trace!”  She smacks her hands down on her thighs.  Here it comes. “You pretty much told me to my face that I pale in comparison to him.  And I know you’ve known each other for so long, but at the same time, he's an ass to me.  I don’t want you guys to not be friends anymore.  That's not what I'm trying to do.  I just don’t want you to act like I don’t exist to just appease him.  I will not have a man put me down like that again!  I'd rather be depressed and alone than have a man treat me like that."

"I freaked out about the baby thing," I say pathetically.  She just rolls her eyes.

"Which was ridiculous.  It's their shit, not ours."

"No, no it was about me to some extent.”  She gives me an unbelieving look.  “Some shit happened several years ago."

I don’t say anything more.  She stares at me.  Those eyes staring slowly, narrowing at me as time goes on.  I hate it when she’s mad at me. To some extent it’s sexy, it used to be very sexy before we really got together, when all we did was fight and make out.  Now…now she’s got this power over me.  She could just stand up, break up with me and leave and that’d be it.

And then where would I be?

"And that’s it,” she says slightly sad.  “You won’t tell me."

I take in a breath and decide to tell her.  I know she probably thinks the reason I don’t tell her everything about me is because I’ve bought into Justin’s crap and think that she’s selling shit.  I know she’s not.  She’s not that cold, I know her.  I fucking know her and I know she wouldn’t do that.  She’s not a money hungry bitch.  She’s not in this job for fame. 

I don’t tell her stuff because of my own personal problems, my own insecurities, my own issues with trust.  I’m an open, nice guy on the surface, but deep down I’m closed off.  There’s a barricade around me and every fucking time I’ve let someone in to see that part of me…I get burned.

I take a chance, now.  I let her in a little, hoping she doesn’t burn me down.

"Britney had a pregnancy scare like Meredith did and she ran to me and told me and promised me not to tell Justin.  And I kept that promise, like an idiot.  When she told him like a month later about it, he flipped on me.  I’ve never seen him more livid in my fucking life.  And I flipped back.  We didn’t talk for four months, Courtney. Not a word.  It's the only time we've fought, besides now.  And then was a lot worse than it is now.  Then it was explosive and just over.  This, now, it’s just petty arguments and disagreements.  When Britney and him broke up, that’s when he finally came back and was torn up and begging for me to be his friend again.  Yeah, he begged me.  And I gave in and I told him I'd help him get through it ‘cause me and my girl had just broken up at that time, too.  I mean, I wasn’t nearly as fucked up as he was, but I felt for him and knew in that moment when he called me up, saying he needed to hang out that it was serious and that everything that had happened between us was forgiven and forgotten. It was rough, but we got through it."

She scoffs and rolls her eyes.  “I don’t get the appeal of him at all.  I really don’t.  That sounds just like him, just like the Justin I know, a selfish asshole who only comes to you when he needs you and forgets you the rest of the time."

"No Court…” I laugh a little bit. 

Maybe Justin’s not the only one that’s been recollecting over his life lately.  I guess I have, too. Thinking about that time, when we didn’t talk for months, thinking back on when we were teenagers and fucking around all the time.  Fucking invincible.  And I guess, just like him, I’ve also been comparing Courtney to my past girls.  But she’s so fucking different from all of them.

I think that’s a good thing.  I think that’s why I want to fall in love with her so bad.

“It was my fault.  I kept it from him and he got mad at me.  He had a right to because whereas I think Meredith was keeping this shit from Justin out of concern for him, Britney just didn’t want to deal with it.  She wanted to act like it didn’t happen for her own sake.  And I bought into it.  I kept it from him and when he found out he was rightfully mad.  I was his best friend and I kept a secret that big from him.  And I didn’t want to deal with it. I didn’t want to deal with knowing I was wrong.  I was the one that was stubborn and selfish.  I was the one that cut him off.  I’m the one that deleted his name from my cell phone and ignored his calls. ‘Cause I couldn’t handle it.  I couldn’t handle the mistakes that I had made.” 

I sigh and she’s just looking at me.  She stares at me, with her mouth slightly opened, blinking slowly as if what I just said was a shock to her.

Yeah, maybe she sees that I’m an asshole, too now.  Maybe she now understands why me and Justin are best friends.  Because we’re twins.  But whereas he forgave me so fucking easily for being such a dick to him, I’m having the hardest time forgiving him.  It’s not really fair.

"I'm starting to do it again and that’s why I flipped when I found out about it all.  I couldn’t do it again.  I couldn’t keep something like that from him again, even with you asking me not to.  I couldn’t risk it.  And I know once again I was putting him before you.  Hell, I don’t know anything anymore.  I'm just a big fucking mess."

She shakes her head and opens her mouth.  Nothing comes out and she shuts it after a few seconds and then says quietly, "Ya know, I use to think you had everything together..."

"And now you realize I’m a big failure."  That's what I feel like.  Despite all the insanity that's happening around me, how I'm doing good with my life, got my clothing line, Justin's getting so much buzz off his new record and I've got a hot girlfriend and everything...I still feel like the biggest failure.  And I can feel her slipping.  I can feel it, like she's just not going to be with me much longer...maybe only a few more minutes.

I'm too hypocritical, or weak, or something.

"I never said that, Trace."  She sighs and turns a little to me, staring right at me.  I could live in that look; it’s sweet and concerned, different from her normal cold, hard stare. 

"Look, I just...I need to know if this is how it's going to be, ‘cause I don’t know if I can handle it.  Ya know, fuck it if Justin's an asshole to me!  People have been mean to me before.  I’ll get over it.  But I feel like I’m always fighting for your attention.  I feel like even when you’re with me, you’re not."  She stops and I feel her hand on my forearm.  I haven't touched her in days. 

"I want this.  I'm...I'm..." She sighs and looks away.  "It's hard for me to say, but I’m there with you, ya know? I've fucking fallen, but I can't deal with...with this!  I understand you not wanting to keep something from your best friend, but god!  You should have told me that that night instead of freaking out on me and making me feel like a little girl or something.  I was trying to help Meredith out, I was doing my job."

I pull away a little and lean forward, holding my head in my hands, smoothing back over the longer hair on the top of my head.  This mohawk thing was stupid, too.  All of my ideas lately are just stupid.  Shit, I haven’t been this down on myself in so long.

"You just don’t know how crazy I went when I saw that test box in your trash can Courtney.  I...I lost it."

"I know that, and it's ok, alright?  I know it's a scary..."

"No..." I interrupt.  I close my eyes and think back on what I promised I wouldn’t think about again, what I've been trying to push away this whole time.  This whole time.  It was her.  It was my stupidity, my big ass mouth that got me where I was now. 

And her.

'Lish, we can do this.  If it's positive we...we can get married. 

"No you don’t get it.”  I say, laughing pathetically at myself.  “Fucking god damn pregnancy scares is like all my life is about." It's sad but it's true.  "Meredith and Justin, Britney and Justin...me and Elisha...it's the fucking reason we got engaged, Courtney.  She thought she was...she took a test...and she was.  I proposed to her.  I fucking proposed.  And then she went to the doctor and they said she wasn’t, and that the test was a dud.  I couldn’t back down from that.  I loved her, I really did and I thought, ya know, I should just keep going through with it.  And as soon as I really committed to her and was all gung ho, ready to get married, ready to settle down, it all fucking blew up in my face.  So yeah, it's hard for me to put you first cause I've done that before.  I've put women ahead of myself before, many, many times.  And it always backfires."

Suddenly I feel her hand touch my back, only for a moment.  Her fingertips snap away quickly and when I look over at her from my hunched position, she's biting at her nails nervously, leaning back against the couch.  She doesn't look at me.  She stares right ahead of me where the TV is still on. 

"Can I ask you something seriously?  And I want you to answer this as truthfully as possible." I nod at her.  She doesn’t look at me but reaches forward and grabs the remote, turning the TV off.  When she sits back, her knees are pulled up, feet pressing into the edge of the cushion, and she stares at the tops of her smooth knees. She’s leaning back against the couch, just staring right in front of her with a very, sad, sad look.  "Do you think I’m a rebound?  Not..."  She breathes quickly and says, "Do you want me to be one, nor is that why I think you got with me...but really...think about it.  Is this just a rebound for you?"

I don't say anything.  My brain stops for a second.  And when she looks at me I see tears in her eyes.  She's holding them back. She's trying to be strong.

And I get it.  

I get that despite the fact that we both tried to push this off into a casual thing, into dating or whatever...this is serious.  Somehow, someway, we both need each other.

And that need is very serious.

"I'm not gonna be mad at you if it is." She says quietly, and I've never seen her look so vulnerable.  The strong, independent, ferocious Courtney I use to know is gone, and she becomes a scared little woman, needing me. 

And it's there.

I feel it. 

Love.

I fall hard for her.

"No, it's not a rebound," I say confidently.  "Maybe when it started it was.  But I didn’t start dating you to forget Elisha.  I started this with you because I had to.  I couldn’t get you out of my fucking mind, Courtney.  I tried to stop thinking about you because I did think you were a rebound.  I was like, ‘don’t go for her, it’s just a back up.’  But you kept coming back and back and back.  And now I...I fucking want you.  And I want to be a good man for you.  I want to be your man, not just this wimp that you date that can't even stand up for you."

"See, and then I feel bad because the one time you did stand up for me, you punched him in the face."

I smile at her. "He deserved it."

"Yeah…” She smiles back and it drops suddenly.  “But you didn’t.  I don’t know.  I just hate that I'm like standing in between you and your best friend."

"And the only reason why you are is because I've put you there." I turn to her and grab both of her hands.  I feel silly like I’m out of a god damn movie or something.  But I need to touch her and I feel like any other way, on her leg or shoulder, she might smack me and call me a pervert. 

Even though she was rubbing my back just a few minutes ago.

"Look, the tour is almost over.  We have just a handful of dates left and...and dammit Courtney, I don’t want this to end.  After this tour it'll just be you and me."

"And Justin and Meredith."

"No...I..."  I stop and drop her hands.

"What?"

I should just tell her.  I should just…

I should let her in.

I lick my lips and say cautiously, "I think I'm going to take a break from this."

"What?"  She asks even though I think she knows exactly what I mean when I say it.

"I have to."

I watch her whole body expand as she takes in a breath and she holds it, asking, "Have you told him?"

"No, but...but I think he knows.  He's been talking about his cousin Rachel a lot lately, about getting her a job somewhere.  I think he's trying to get her into this business.  She'd be good at it.  She's young, naive...but...she'd be good at it."

"And what about you?"

I look at the coffee table for a moment.  My folder is there with a bunch of my stuff in it, designs, layouts, product development, themes, names, etc.  I smile a little bit.  I am excited about it.  I mean it is a good thing going on in my life.  I really should just suck it up, be a man, and stop being so fucking depressed and down about everything. 

She doesn’t seem like she’s breaking up with me, Justin doesn’t seem to hate me.  My clothing line is taking off.  My life isn’t horrible.

It really isn’t.

"Well, I launch this damn clothing line.  I got a call this morning from this design team I've been trying to get in contact with.  They love it, Courtney.  They fucking love it.  They wanna run with it.  They want to help me develop it."

"That's amazing."

I look at her, and she seems proud of me, happy to be mine.  Shit, she’s still mine.   I put my hand on her knee. "And I wanna have more time with you.  I still...I still want to be with you then Courtney, when this tour is over.  I don’t want it to just end like that.  I want to be able to call my own shots, live my own life.  Not just follow him around, making my schedule and my life...fit his.  It's not his fault. I don’t blame him for it.  I decided to do this for him.  I decided this would be my life.  But I want something different now." 

I sigh and move my hand to her thigh and squeeze her there, touching her intimately for the first time in so, so long.  "And I still fucking want you."  She smiles at me.  It’s that smile.

It’s the smile I’ve been waiting for, for days…no…weeks.

‘Cause she hasn’t smiled like that since we first started this damn thing. She’s been too stressed, too worried. 

"So...so what did you want to talk about?" I ask.

"Um...I was going to tell you that we needed to talk about us and that, ya know...”  She pauses and laughs.  “It really doesn’t matter now."

"What? Tell me."  I need to know what she was thinking.  Even though I already have an idea.  I guess in a way, I wanna know if I changed her mind.

She closes her eyes and shakes her head, then runs her hand through her silky hair.  I want to touch her.  I want to kiss her.  So bad.

"I shouldn’t expect you to be perfect Trace, ‘cause you don’t expect it from me.  And I know you want me, and I know I'm your girl...and I know you are struggling right now with what's important in your life.  And I get that, now.  I really do.  It honestly makes me feel good, in a weird way, because I see how much I've shaken you.  It shows how much I must mean to you to make you get all crazy.  It makes me want you even more."

"You're nuts.”  I laugh at her and lean closer to her. “Me being indecisive and a little whiny bitch is turning you on?"

"Well…” Her eyelids lower and she passes me a flirty look.  Just like that it’s over.  Just like that I know she’s not leaving me.  Just like that I know that she wants me.  “I know you're not always a little bitch."

She’s leaning closer to me, her hands are on my shoulders.  I ask, “Really?"

She kisses me.

She kisses me….hard.

Suddenly she’s straddling my lap and my hands are on her hips and she’s holding onto my face, kissing me and kissing me.

“Wait…”  I pull back from her and she’s breathless and staring at me. “Are you still mad about-”

“Yes…”  She kisses me again.

But I pull back again and ask, “Are we still toge-”

“Yes…”  And again she kisses me, but I’m not done.  I’m not done with this conversation.  I want her, god damn I want her so bad.  But I need to know the reason she’s on top of me right now.  I’m not complaining. God no.  I just don’t want her doing this out of pity or something.

“Are we…”

“Shut up.”  She says firmly and holds my cheeks in her hands and stares right at me.  “I want you, Trace.  I don’t want any more questions because despite what happens to us out in the real world, when it’s just me and you and no one else…I feel so. damn. good.  And I need to feel good right now.  With you.”

I suck in a breath and start to smile, rubbing on her hips a little, moving my hands to her ass and pulling her hard against me. She’s gotten me there, hard and horny for her in less than a handful of seconds.  She’s that good.

“Shit girl, you do feel good.  You do.”

I can’t help myself and I keep kissing her and rubbing her and pushing her down on me.  It quickly gets to the point where my fingers are clumsily unbuttoning the front of her shirt.  She pulls it off eagerly and tugs at the material on my shoulders.  I break away from her only for a moment, feeling her grind herself down into me as I tug my shirt off.  I hold her close and move her and me, so her back is on the couch and I’m laying over her.

I can’t help myself.  I have to touch.  My hands are on her thighs, my lips are on her neck. She’s sighing, holding my hair in her hands.  I touch her there….feeling her wet and aching against her panties.

God damn…I’ve missed this.  I’ve fucking missed this.

She’s so right.  This….this is good.  We’re good.  And it’s not just sex.  But this, when we’re alone together and nothing else in the world matters, we’re perfect.  We’re fucking perfect.

I move my fingers inside and brush against her wet, slick skin easily.  She only has to kiss me, whispering ‘more’ in between our heavy kisses.  I know to slide my fingers inside.  She bucks against my hands.  She wants this…badly.  So, so fucking bad.

“Trace…”  I pull away from her chest where I was kissing her and look up at her.

“Yes…”  I smile.

She runs her fingers down the side of my face and smiles at me.  “Let’s lock the door, turn off our phones, and spend the rest of the afternoon together.”

It sounds like the best idea I’ve ever heard.  “Really?”

“I don’t think they have plans.  I’ll call Meredith and let her know me and you are gonna be unavailable.”

I smirk and look down at her breasts that are spilling out of her bra.  It’s a sexy little bra, nude colored, but a little lacy and sexy as hell.  “You gonna dish details?  Tell Mere how good I made you feel?”  My fingers are still in her and I curl them a little.  She arches up into me, her breasts pressing against my chin.

“No…”

“You gonna call now?” I tease.

She shakes her head ‘no’ and I feel her hand brush down my chest, down and down, until she grabs me through my jeans. “After….after you have sex with me.”

Just like that it’s over and I’m ready.  Damn, am I ready.  I feel this drama leave me and wash away as I kiss her and finger her.  She grabs my cock through my jeans and I swear it’s the best fucking feeling.  But I know it’s not.  I know damn well it’s not.  Nothing is gonna feel better than when I sink down into her hot little body.

We scramble apart for a moment to get naked and she spreads her legs around me and lets me enter her quickly, holding onto me and sighing out my name.  We don’t waste any time.  We’re both there, jerking and moving fast, sighing and moaning, and she feels so fucking good.  So…so fucking good.

I could lose it easily.  But I don’t.  I hold out and wait for her.  I get her there first.

It’s a small thing, and something that she probably doesn’t even realize.  But when I look down at her face as she comes hard and violently around me, banging her fists into my back, biting her lip so hard, I see that she knows I’m putting her first.  I’m letting her get there first.  I’m making her the most important thing to me.

And when she gasps my name and clutches to my shoulder, pushing her face into my neck, I fucking explode over and over. I go crazy inside of her…I lose my god damn fucking mind.

And I’m ok with it.  ‘Cause she’s mine.  And I’m all hers.

I’ve fucking fallen for her.  Just like that. 

There’s no going back now. 

Hell, I don’t wanna go back.