Bring It On Home To Me

I pose to you, ladies and gentlemen, a question: How does one welcome a significant other that they’ve only seen once since becoming a couple? Does one A) run into their arms, 2) kiss them passionately, or Hippo) stand there awkwardly? If you answered Purple) all of the above, you are wrong.

It was nine days after Alex suggested coming to Wisconsin, and I was standing in the terminal, shifting from foot to foot while Kal bounced happily beside me, getting some incredible height. Of course, she knew exactly how to act; her boyfriend of a year was coming to visit. My boyfriend of--for all intents and purposes--a day just happened to be joining him. This visit was going to tell us whether we should actually be together, or if it was just an impulse reaction; make it or break it. I hoped it wasn’t the latter.

“There they are!” Kal squealed, and I pressed my fingers to my temple--nine in the morning was not the time for shouting--and looked in the direction she was pointing so enthusiastically. I caught a few brief glimpses of messy hair, nothing clear, but when I turned to ask Kal if she was sure it was them, she was already gone. I watched as her tall, thin figure weaved haphazardly between the rest of the airport patrons, and then heard a high pitched scream, “Baby!” Moments later, I saw Jack waddle through the crowd with my best friend firmly latched around his torso, both of them laughing and peppering each other with little kisses. Behind Jack walked Alex, squinting down at a little slip of paper carefully.

“Hey, Jack,” he mumbled, grunting when he accidentally bumped into someone, but not looking up. “I’ve never traveled by air with them before; where do I get my boys?”

Jack pulled away from his girlfriend’s lips, looking around a pointing a finger, “There. Pet Collection.”

“Not to be confused with debt collection,” I joked stupidly, then cleared my throat when Alex finally looked up. We just stared at each other for a beat before he finally smirked and I couldn’t help but smile in return. Which brings us back to our initial question: A., 2., Hippo., or Purple?

None of these. Instead, as Alex approached me, I forgot all of my awkwardness and anxieties and did the first thing my body told me to: I reached out my arms and slid them around his neck, hugging him. He returned the embrace immediately, holding me as tightly as I held him. I breathed in, and smiled at the bare smell of soap and peppermint aftershave. No cologne or overwhelming body spray. Just Alex, through and through, and I’d never felt so happy to see a man (that I wasn’t related to) in my life.

I pulled back and looked up at him with a big, goofy grin, feeling a flutter in my chest when he looked back at me with those soulful brown eyes. How we’d gone from enemies to significant others in .35, I’d never know, but I was glad. “So,” I pulled away and tucked an arm through his, “Let’s go get your puppies.”

He nodded to me, then looked over my head. “Yo, bitch!” Jack’s eyes flew up immediately, attentive. “Go get the bags.”

“Yes, master!” The lanky guitarist did a little salute before grabbing Kal’s hand and running for the baggage claim. This left Alex and I to head in the opposite direction to collect Baz and Peyton’s kennels. Once the four of us reconvened with the appropriate additions, we made our way out to one of my father’s many cars (a deep green Range Rover he’d lent to me during the boys’ stay) and loaded in. Kal and Jack settled themselves into the back with the dogs, cooing over each other and making up for lost time. I drove while Alex lounged in the passenger seat, staring at me the entire way back to Grey Valley with a soft smile on his face.

-- -- --

Ten o’clock on a Monday morning. What to do, what to do? I say sleep. Mom says brunch. She’d taken off work specifically to greet our guests--or, more specifically, to size up our boyfriends--and she wouldn’t take no for an answer. After taking bags and dogs back to our house and getting cleaned up, we got back into the car and met my parents, brother, Jocelyn and Deveraux at Breaker, Breaker, the best breakfast spot in town.

“How much does your mom know about me?” Alex had asked nervously on the way over, smoothing his hands over imaginary wrinkles in his black button-down shirt. “I mean, does she know about…” He’d trailed off, but I knew what he meant.

“No,” I’d assured him, switching on my blinker and merging lanes. “I mean, she knows we didn’t get along in the beginning, but she says ‘you have to repel to attract’ or something Buddha-y like that.”

Alex had snorted at this, seeming to relax in his seat, “Buddha-y?”

“Shut up.”

Now, standing in the entryway of Breaker, Breaker and making introductions (though they’d all met before, at Kal’s nineteenth birthday party), it was somewhat sadistically entertaining for me to watch Alex shift back and forth, putting his hands through his hair, then into his pockets, then tug at the hem of his shirt. His nervousness was adorable. Even my mom thought so.

“Alex, dear,” she told him with a friendly tone as we took our seats and he cleared his throat about four times. “I’m flattered that you’re so eager to make a good impression, but your awkwardness is making me very uncomfortable.”

I snorted loudly, covering my face with my napkin when everyone at the table turned to look at me. “Shit, sorry,” I apologized, choking on laughter. “I’m, um…just an asshole.”

“Yes, sweetheart,” my father said patiently, unfolding his napkin and draping it over his lap, “We know.”

Alex glanced at me before clearing his throat again and addressing my mother. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Vader; meeting the parents is always nerve-wracking at the start, I think.” I nodded to this, remembering when I’d met his parents. And we hadn’t even been a couple then. “Just give me a few minutes to ease into it.”

Mom smiled at him from across the table, “Of course, I understand. But honey, if you call me Mrs. Vader again, I’ll suffocate you with a crepe.” He looked at me, then Tomas, and we both nodded to let him know she was capable of it. “Call me Murphy,” Mom continued, lifting a finger to gesture our waitress over.

“Murphy,” Alex said with a firm nod, “I can do that.”

“Good, because the only other option is death-by-crepe.”

He slanted his eyes at me and leaned in, breath warm on my cheek and I could feel his smile as he whispered, “I see where you get your personality from.”

“Oh, that’s nothing,” I whispered back, putting my hand over his under the table, “Just wait until my dad comes out of his shell.”

He laced his fingers with mine and squeezed, “God help me.” As he pulled away, he pressed a light kiss to my cheek and everyone in our group let out a simultaneous “aaw” and I felt my face blaze red. Alex blushed a little also, and kept tight hold of my hand under the table while he looked up at the waitress, who’d arrived to take our drink orders.

Twenty minutes later, his drink came out through his nose. “No, seriously,” my mother was insisting loudly, laughing herself and waving her hands around, “Twelve feet, out the window, off the trampoline and into the flowerbed!” She wiped a stray tear from under her eye, “That was the last time we ever had a cat.”

Alex cleaned the last of the soda from under his nose and turned to me, “You threw her out a window?!”

“It was Tomas’s idea!” I defended, pointing a finger at my brother while Deveraux and Kal howled with laughter on either side of him.

He held up his hands, “I was six! And I believe all I said was: ‘Nettie, if you throw a cat out a window, will it land on it’s feet?’ You’re the one that decided to test it out on poor Cadbury.”

I blushed and looked down at my half-finished breakfast sampler, pushing scrambled eggs around with a slice of cold toast. I remembered the details of the Cadbury/window incident, and I knew it was me that decided to chuck him from a second-story bedroom, but I wasn’t about to cop to that. So instead I said nothing, taking a big bite of my food. Alex took pity and slung an arm over my shoulder, “It’s okay; that was twelve years ago. I realize that you’ve grown up since them.” He paused, then added, “But to be on the same side, I’m not leaving you alone with my boys.”

“Shut up,” I mumbled, smacking him on the chest, but smirking despite myself. Not because of his words, or the gentle tone to his voice, but more for the sensation that was radiating through me at the simple pressure of his arm against my back.

It was almost noon by the time we finished and paid our tickets (Alex footed the bill for us all, which won him major points with my dad) and then stood around the parking lot for a few minutes, talking.

“Well,” Dad finally said, glancing at his watch, “I have to meet a client in Milwaukee this afternoon, so I have to hit the road soon.” He reached out to shake hands with Jack and Alex, “But I’m sure I’ll see you guys again soon; how long are you staying, again?”

Alex glanced at me and shrugged, “Until Net gets tired of us. We have to fly out for a few meetings and in-store appearances, but I think we’ll be here the majority of the time until her birthday.”

“That’s almost a month away!” Mom’s eyes widened a little, and then she gave me an impressed look, “Wow, you definitely have the gift of attraction!”

“That she does,” Alex chuckled, smiling down at me. I swear, he was trying to set the record for how many times a single person could make me blush in one day; I felt like a teenager again. I tried to remember if Alton had ever had this effect on me. With Alton and I, we’d been friends first, couple second; everything with us was jokes and comfort, and nothing about him he’d ever really got my heart racing. Even after our break-up, when we’d find ourselves in the same bed every once in a while, it was never because my body had suddenly lit up with desire for him. He was just…there. Familiar. This was all new territory.

Jocelyn and Deveraux followed us back to the house after breakfast, and we all practically collapsed through the door, exhausted and ready to spend the rest of the day lazing around. I knew that I should be spending our first day together showing Alex around my hometown, but I didn’t have the energy. And judging by the way he quickly changed into a pair of comfy jeans and an oversized t-shirt, neither did he. So instead, we let Peyton and Sebastian out of their kennels and took them, as well as Nietzsche, out back to do their business and get some exercise while we lounged in two of the large brown deck chairs Kal had bought last summer.

“I like it here,” Alex said abruptly after a few minutes of shared silence. He was slouched down, staring up at the clear blue sky thoughtfully. “It’s quiet. Really peaceful.”

I nodded, “It is at that. Very little pollution, very little disaster, very little crime, which is why my dad has to outsource himself to the surrounding cities.” I watched as Nietzsche sniffed around Baz and Peyton, barking happily at the company. He was still so small, and watching him try to keep up with the adult dogs made me smile. “It’s really good to be home.”

“I’ll bet.”

I looked at him, “And it’s really good to have you here.”

He smiled at me, pleased, and then stretched out, “Well, I’d hope so. I’d hate to think I got up at four a.m. just to fly out to see a girl who thinks I’m a stinky troll with a bad personality.”

“Never,” I shook my head, “You’re never stinky.”

He laughed, “So I’m just a troll with a bad personality.”

“In a nutshell.”

“Aw, you’re so sweet!” He reached down to pet Peyton when he came to sit by his feet, “Hey, buddy; you like it here?” Pey barked in response, and Alex seemed to take this as an affirmation. “Yeah, me too. So, um,” he looked back up at me, biting his bottom lip, “Where do people usually go for dates around here?”

The question took me by surprise--so sudden and blunt--and I coughed gracelessly, “Uh, what?”

He shrugged and slid his chair closer to me, Peyton moving with him. “I was just thinking, we haven’t been on our first date as a couple yet. And I don’t want to be one of those guys that never does anything nice for you.”

“You flew from Baltimore to stay with me for a month,” I stated obviously.

“Yeah, but that was just step one,” he smiled softly. “Net, I want to date you. I don’t just want to be with you; I’m not arrogant enough to think I know you well enough to do that. This is going to be a real relationship; I’m going to do it right.” He reached over and took my hand, making my skin heat. “Now, I’ll ask you again: Where do people go for dates in Grey Valley?”

I was at a loss for words, touched by his speech and insistence to “do this right.” I couldn’t even think; where had Alton taken me for dates? Trick question. He hadn’t. Alton and I just sort of fell together, hanging out at my house or his, or between classes at school. Sure, we went out places, but they were never called dates, and they never carried any significant meaning.

“Chez Louis!” A voice said behind us, and a very excited Deveraux began bouncing around the patio. That boy was always eavesdropping. “It’s this fancy French place on Main Street.

I groaned and rolled my eyes, “That place is way too fancy. Plus, I refuse to go there without Jocelyn. She’s our translator,” I added for Alex’s benefit, “Fluent in French, Italian and Spanish.”

“Wow,” he made an impressed face.

Deveraux rolled his eyes, “Well, if not Chez Louis, then definitely Archer’s.”

“The waiters there are perves; they stare at my chest every time they pass the table.”

“The Goose.”

“Food poisoning on a plate.”

“Tucker Tavern.”

“Infamous whore hangout.”

Alex watched as we went back and forth, Deveraux naming date spots and me shooting them all down for one reason or another. It wasn’t me making excuses; I refused to go to most of these places no matter who I was with. Finally, Deveraux threw his hands up in exasperation, “Jesus, Net, you might as well just go to the damn bowling alley!”

I gasped, my hand flying to my mouth. “Oh my god, that’s perfect!” They both looked at me like I was crazy, and I started shaking my head, “No, really, it is! They’ve got good food, beer, bowling, pool, and that little arcade area; I fucking love the bowling alley.”

Alex looked back to Deveraux, who shrugged at him, “She did have her birthday celebration there last year and it was pretty fun. She did Irish car bombs with her crazy grandma Luanne.”

“Don’t call my grandma crazy!” I snapped, then told Alex, “I was named after her, you know. Annette Luanne,” I smiled, proud.

Deveraux blinked at me, “She’s a big ol’ bag of nutterbutters. She kept slapping the bartender on the ass and saying ‘el shot-o, Pedro!’”

I started cracking up, doubling over and literally rolling out of the chair and onto the deck, where Nietzsche came up and started sniffing me frantically, trying to see if I was hurt. I wrapped my arms around his tiny form and smiled, planting a kiss between his ears.

“Well,” Alex said, tilting his head to the side and grinning as he watched us, “I guess it’s the bowling alley, then! Let’s say about…eight tonight?” I nodded and he stood up, stretching his tall, slim form. “For now, I think I’m going to catch a little bit of a nap, if that’s okay. I really have been up since four, and I’m kind of exhausted.”

“Sure,” I nodded, standing also. “We played musical bedrooms about two months before tour, so the guest room is in a different spot than it was before; here, I’ll show you.” I led him and the dogs back into the house and past the kitchen. Since Jocelyn had moved in, she and Deveraux had moved into the guest room upstairs, since it was bigger, and we’d turned Deveraux’s old room into the new guest room.

I opened this door and told Alex, “I’ll grab your bags from the living room and bring them in here.” He nodded and I wandered back down the hall to grab his two wheeled suitcases and duffel bag and took them back to the room, only to find Alex had already sprawled out on the bed and was beginning to drift to sleep. As quietly as I could, I pushed his bags against the wall and started to shut the door.

“Net.” I stopped, poking my head back in to look at Alex. His eyes were closed but he had the tiniest smirk on his face, “You’re more than welcome to nap with me. If you want to, that is.” Oh, of course he would make it sound so casual.

I weighed the situation in my mind. If I went in there and laid down next to him, it could end up leading to something much more physical. And while I knew that everything in my body reacting positively to that idea, I also knew that it would be a very poor decision for our relationship. Alex and I were on fire for each other, and if anything was going to be our downfall, that was it. Too much, too fast.

So I bit my lip and murmured, “I’ve actually got a phone meeting with Patrick at two, so I have to pass. I’m sorry.”

He smiled and shrugged, “No big deal. We’ve got a whole month to cuddle.” I was glad his eyes were shut, because I blushed heavily at this. A whole month to cuddle, to kiss, to… No, no. Bad brain. If I let my mind go there, it wasn’t coming back, and I’d probably end up doing something really stupid. “You’re still standing there,” Alex’s voice brought me back down to earth, and I noticed he’d popped open one eye to stare at me.

“I’m leaving,” I assured him, taking a step back and closing the door. I swear, I heard him laughing on the other side.

-- -- --

Not to be made a liar, I called Patrick at two and spent nearly an hour on the phone with him, discussing lyrics and getting his opinion on some things I’d written since the last time we spoke. He gave me a lot of good feedback that I made a note of so I could go back and edit accordingly, but the whole time we were talking, my head was going in two different directions. So when we hung up, close to three, I sought out the advice of my friends.

“Help me,” I moaned as I dropped into a chair in front of the kitchen table, where Kal and Jack were playing cards.

“With what?” Kal asked, looking at me, “Lyrics? I thought you were all inspired and cranking them out like wildfire.”

I shook my head, “No, not lyrics; lyrics, I’m on top of. Lyrics, I understand. I can handle lyrics.”

“Okay, stop saying ‘lyrics,’” she ordered, putting down her hand of cards and turning to face me fully. “What’s wrong, lady?”

I ran a hand through my hair, sighing, trying to think of how to word my issue. “I,” I shrugged, “I don’t think I know how to be a girlfriend.”

She raised an eyebrow at me. “What are you talking about? You and Alton were a couple for, what? Almost three years? You know how to be a girlfriend.”

“Yeah, but Alton and I were teenagers, and we didn’t even really date. We were just…together. And I didn’t feel toward him how I feel toward Alex.”

Jack decided to chime in then, “And how do you feel about Alex?”

“I can’t say without a written parental advisory notice.”

Kal gasped, then smiled sneakily, “Annette, are you trying to tell me that you have dirty, nasty thoughts in your head?

I looked away; maybe talking to her had been a bad idea. “Shut up.”

“You’re horny! Wait, do you get horny? I mean, you’ve never said anything about it before, even with Alto--”

“Baby,” Jack cut her off suddenly, shuffling the deck of cards, “Could you give me a minute with Annette?” She opened her mouth to protest, but he cut her off again, “Just a few minutes, and then if she still needs advice, you can pep talk her until the cows come home. Which I assume is a literal term in this town,” he added as an afterthought.

I raised my eyebrows and Kal seemed to think for a moment, then relented, “All right, you have five minutes.” She leaned down and kissed his cheek before leaving the kitchen. When she was gone, Jack folded his hands and turned his rare, serious eyes on me.

“You’re freaking out, huh?” He asked kindly, and I nodded. He smirked and pushed his hair out of his face, “Annette, you can’t worry about it; if you worry about it, you’re going to psyche yourself out of this relationship before it ever even really starts.”

“How do you know?”

He rolled his eyes at me, “Two words: William Beckett.” He nodded toward the living room, where we could hear Kal playing tug-of-war with Nietzsche. I let out a little noise, eyes going wide. I remembered the Kal-Jack-Bill-love-triangle debacle well. When Jack recognized my realization, he chuckled and started fiddling with the deck of cards, “Listen, all I’m saying is, Alex likes you. Actually,” he corrected, lowering his voice, “He’d hate me if he found out I told you, but the boy’s been stark-raving mad about you since they day you met.” He sighed at the memory, “I think he fell for you before I fell for Kal.”

I bit my lip, taking his words in. “Yeah,” I mumbled, “But that doesn’t make up for the fact that I’m not sure I know how to be a good girlfriend to him.”

Jack laughed at this. A wide, loud cackle that make the dogs bark and come running into the kitchen. “Annette,” he said, still laughing, “He’s the one person you’ve always been straight-to-bone real with. He likes that. He hates fake girls more than anything. Just,” he shrugged, “Don’t cheat on him or treat him like shit, and he’ll more than likely stick around.”

I thought about this for a long while, and then cracked a little smile. He was right, of course. Totally, completely right. “Thanks, Jackie-Blue,” I said, leaning across the table to hug him, “You know, sometimes I forget that you actually have a brain.”

“Oh dear jesus, don’t let anyone else hear you say that!” He hissed, covering my mouth with his hand, “My reputation will be ruined.”

“Okay, five minutes are up!” Kal barked, reentering the kitchen and dropping into the seat next to me, looping an arm around my shoulders. “Okay, sweet’ems; let’s figure all this out.”

I snorted, “Psh, figure what out? I’ve got a date to get ready for, loser.” With that, I stuck my tongue out at her and popped up, scampering up the stairs to my bedroom, Baz and Peyton hot on my heels while Nietzsche struggled a little to get his little legs up the steps. I ran back down to scoop him up, then locked the four of us in my room with the music turned up.

-- -- --

“Time’s are strange,” I quietly hummed along with the radio as I watched the road carefully, trying to ignore the feeling of Alex’s eyes on me. “We’ve got a free upgrade for snakes on a plane; fuck ‘em, I don’t care.” You would think that, after being on tour with Cobra Starship for two months, and hearing this song every single night, I would get tired of it, but I hadn’t. It was still one of my favorite Cobra songs of all time.

I could still feel those dark brown eyes burning a whole through me, and I ran a hand through my freshly curled hair, my charm bangles clinking cheerfully against each other. Finally, I couldn’t ignore it anymore, and I snapped, “What?!”

He cleared his throat and looked out the window, “I, um--nothing. It’s just, uh,” he stuttered, tugging at his hair like he always did when he was out of his element, “You look…really, really beautiful tonight. And that’s saying something, because you always look beautiful.”

I blushed, then allowed myself a quick glance at him. Likewise, Alex looked stunning, with a fitted green flannel buttoned over a pair of dark skinnies. With me in my white crochet sundress and matching vegan shoes, and multi-colored stockings, we looked like a real life casual date couple. “You don’t look half bad yourself,” I finally answered, making a left turn into the bowling alley parking lot. I felt my eyes go wide as I looked at all the cars there, and my stomach sank; I suddenly remembered what Monday nights at Orbit Lanes were. “Oh, fuck.”

“What?” Alex asked, concerned at my expression, “What’s wrong?”

I turned to him and bit my lip, trying to decide between laughing and crying. “It’s karaoke night.”

So that’s how it became that, thirty minutes later, after we’d finished a couple of jumbo pretzels and Arctic Blasts between us, Alex and I had requested the lane nearest to the bar, so we could hear the drunken, middle-aged cow-farmer karaoke coming from within. We were barely even focusing on our game, throwing more gutterballs than anything, and laughing hysterically.

“Oh my god,” I gasped a while later, barely able to breathe, “I used to work with that guy! That’s Miguel; he was a short-order cook at Nina’s when I first started there.” As I chuckled about this, I threw my fourth miss in a row and growled when I looked up at my score of 64.

Alex shook his head, making no move to pick up his ball and take his turn. “We’re awful at this; I say we quit while we still have a shred of dignity.” I quickly agreed, not because we were sucking at the game--in actuality, I was a pretty good bowler--but because I was more eager to sit down with Alex and have the chance to talk. Bowling and shit-talking didn’t really allow for that. “C’mon,” he said with a smirk, reaching out his hand, and I relished the feeling of it closing around mine. “Let’s get a pitcher and play some pool; we’ll be up close and personal with karaoke.”

I smiled and followed him into the bar, waiting while he bought a pitcher of PBR, busying myself by pushing quarters into one of the pool tables. When he came back, pouring two cups and handing one to me, I took a quick sip and grabbed a pool cue. “I suck at this game,” I informed him, “So prepare to win.”

He laughed, “All right, let’s do this!” I racked and he broke (badly), and thus started our equally bad--if not worse--game of pool. We were still distracted by karaoke and conversation, and now that alcohol was starting to flow through our systems, we cared less and less about pool and more and more about being goofs. It was around ten-thirty that a loud voice broke into our little party, startling us both.

“Annette Vader!” I jumped, turning to look at the karaoke stage. There stood Traci Fennell, who’d been a Senior when I was a Freshman at Camellia Ridge. We’d been in the same vocal class, and she’d always made it quite clear that she didn’t like me. She wanted to be lead alto, wanted to be first violin, wanted the good grades, wanted rich parents, wanted Alton. All things that I’d had. And even though I was never anything but kind to her, she’d tried--on many occasions--to tarnish my reputation and steal my boyfriend away. Yet there she was, smiling at me from the stage like we were best friends.

I raised an eyebrow at her, “Um…hi, Traci.”

She waved a hand, gesturing me forward, “Get your ass up here, girl! You really think we’re going to let our resident chart-topper not sing?” Even as she laughed, it sounded bitter and forced. I really wanted to decline, but the way everyone was looking at me, so expectant and excited, I couldn’t really say no. After all, this was my home; if I couldn’t be gracious here, where could I be?

So I gave Alex’s hand a gentle squeeze and made my way to the stage, taking the microphone and blinking in the too-close, too-bright makeshift spotlight. “Um,” I shrugged, clearing my throat. “Something country,” I told Traci, and she gave me a snide little look before disappearing behind the stereo system. I watched Alex weave his way through the crowd so he could be right up front, taking an empty seat just in front of the stage and beaming up at me. Oh, right. It was still settling in my mind that he was actually a big fan of my voice. He’d spent over a year telling me otherwise.

But now, watching him smile and wait excitedly, I couldn’t help but think of how happy I really was to have him there, and how comfortable I was with him, despite the fact that his very presence made me feel like I was dangerously close to falling off of a cliff. Though we were only in the beginning stages of our relationship, it felt like it was a long time coming, and we just sort of belonged together. Everything about him drew me in, coaxing me, calling to me, making me want to forget the rest of the world and be with him, and only him.

“All right, girl,” Traci said from her station, “Here you go.”

An intro began playing, and I recognized it immediately: “What I’d Give,” by Sugarland. It was one of Sammy’s favorites, and she’d made me listen to it many times before. I cleared my throat and looked at the screen as the lyrics began streaming across. I took in a deep breath and began singing, softening my voice and accenting slightly. It was a slow song, pretty and light, and--whoa, wait. Were those really the lyrics?

Once the song was over, I immediately knew my face was red and my hands were shaking. I hadn’t realized until halfway through the second verse how suggestive the lyrics were, and…how accurate. Then I had to mentally slap myself for having those dirty thoughts again; god, when did I become such a horny bastard? Was this part of getting older or something? Lechery?

“C’mon,” Alex said again, jerking his thumb over his shoulder and leading me back to our pool table (and beer!) as the crowd in the bar whooped and clapped. Sensing I needed it, he poured me a cup and held it out to me, then watched me finish it in one, long draw. I leaned in to refill it again, but this time just took a little sip. “You good?” He asked, a twinkle of amusement in his eyes that made me want to slap him.

I nodded, “I’m good. I just like beer,” I offered him the tiniest of smiles, and he took it with a laugh.

“Good.” Then he pointed at the table, “You’re up.”

I groaned, “Aw, man!” I picked up my cue and made a noise of exasperation, studying the five stripes on the table. “I couldn’t the broad side of a barn with this damned thing,” I shook the stick angrily, “I suck!”

He snorted and put down his beer, coming to stand next to me. “Here, let me help,” he insisted, voice soft in my ear. I remembered this, going through this same thing with Luke in Nashville. Teaching me how to play pool. Getting so close. Taking advantage of my alcohol-induced desire for contact. But I let it happen. I let Alex wrap his arms around me from behind, lining up my shot and breathing on my ear, making my entire body tremble. “Shoot,” he whispered, and I did, missing the target entirely and watching the cue ball bank off of border and then roll into the side pocket.

I snorted, “You’re not very good at this.”

“I know,” he said quietly, and now I could literally feel his lips brushing against my earlobe, “I just wanted an excuse to be close to you.”

Oh, dear. Oh, lord. Oh, I pledge allegiance to the flag of the United States of America. And to the republic, for which it stands one nation under god, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all. I pledge allegiance to the flag of the United States of… Fuck, it wasn’t working.

I turned in Alex’s arms, barely able to breathe. My eyelids felt heavy, my stomach felt tight, and now even my breaths were coming out in short, shaky spurts. Alex was staring down at me, smoldering me with those eyes that I’d grown so accustom to looking at during tour, counting on them to clue me in on how the situation was going to play out.

“Let’s…” My voice came out strained and breathless, “Let’s get out of here.”

“You sure?” He asked, but I could hear in his voice that he liked that idea. I nodded, and he didn’t need to hear anymore. He picked up my purse, looping it over my shoulder quickly, and then took my hand as we headed for the parking lot, paying the tab along the way.

Once we were safely buckled into the Range Rover, Alex gave me a devilish little look, and I couldn’t get home fast enough. I wasn’t sure where this night was heading, but I could bet it was going to be interesting.

-- -- --

“Hey, guys,” Kal greeted us as soon as we walked through the door. It was just before eleven now, and she was laying on the couch with her head on a pillow on Jack’s lap. They were watching Dig! and helping themselves to what I was sure was my secret stash of Halloween candies. “How was the bowling alley?”

“Forgot it was karaoke night,” I told her shortly, tossing my purse on the floor and slipping out of my Toms.

“Traci still working it?”

I nodded, “Jealous bitch that she is.”

Jack craned his neck around to look at us, “But how was the date?”

“It was fun,” Alex chimed in, placing his hand against the small of my back, his chest touching my shoulder. “And now, I am going to walk my lovely girlfriend to her door and say goodnight. Please excuse us,” he said with an easy smile, but the tiniest hint of desperation to his voice that I thought maybe only I could hear. Jack and Kal shrugged and turned back to their movie while Alex led me to the stairs and let me go first as we ascended them. Once we reached my door, which was closed tightly to keep the dogs out while I was gone, Alex stopped and spun me so I was facing him, barely lit in the dark hallway.

“Do you realize,” his voice were barely audible, but he was so close that I couldn’t not hear them, “That I have been in Grey Valley for fourteen hours and I haven’t kissed you yet?”

I swallowed and shrugged, trying to make my voice as even and casual as possible. “Well, we had that brunch thing with my family, which isn’t an ideal time to mack. And then you took a nap and--”

“And now,” he finished for me, taking my chin between his thumb and forefinger, leaning in painfully slowly, “I’m awake.” Coming from anyone else, these words would have been a cheesy turn-off, so theatrical and empty. But when Alex spoke them, it flipped a switch in me that shattered all of my self-control and threw logic out the window.

When he kissed me, it was…electrifying, for lack of a better word. It wasn’t the first time we’d kissed, of course. First had been the first night we met, then after Kal’s birthday, then behind the busses, and finally on the night we’d gotten together. I was familiar with his lips, but there seemed to be something new and exciting about them every time they touched mine. This time, they were hard and insistent, but soft and curious all the same. His hand left my chin and quickly moved to my hair, and he leaned his body against mine, pushing me back against the door and placing his other hand on my hip.

I responded immediately, digging my hands into his hair and holding his lips to mine strongly. The last kiss we’d shared had been so soft and searching, like we were both made of glass, afraid to give into desires, afraid we’d break one another. Now, those fears were long forgotten, left somewhere at that stupid bowling alley, and all we had were our desires. All we had was our proximity, our emotions, the stifled chemistry that had been slowly building between us for the past two years. All we saw, felt, hear, smelled, tasted was each other. It didn’t matter--as Alex’s thumb began tracing small circles against my abdomen through my dress, eliciting a not-so-quiet moan from me--that Kal and Jack were right at the bottom of the stairs. It didn’t matter--when I pressed my hips against Alex’s and he gasped sharply--that Deveraux’s room was right across the hall. It didn’t matter that the dogs needed to be let out or that the laundry needed to be done, or that we both knew it was too early in the relationship to be taking these kinds of stepped.

The only thing that mattered--the only thing that made sense--was us, together.

I heard a rattling as Alex fumbled with the doorknob, turning it and pushing it open, almost making me spill backwards onto the floor. His strong arms tightened around me at just the right moment, though, and kept me on my feet. He led me back to the bed, letting us both tumble gracelessly onto the mattress, and hovered over me with a deviant smile.

His lips came down on mine again and I wondered, briefly, if they would be bruised in the morning. Half of me hoped so. A little keepsake of our transgression between blue cotton sheets. His lips left mine and trailed their way down my jaw, up to my earlobe where he bit it softly, and I pressed my lips together so I wouldn’t call out. Instead, I screamed with my hands, which made quick work of the buttons on his flimsy flannel shirt. Soon, it was deposited on the floor and I was running my hand over the smooth, wiry muscles of his torso, commanding little hungry noises from the back of his throat as his lips found mine again.

With his tongue twining restlessly with mine and his fingers pulling up the skirt of my dress and tickling the sensitive flesh of my thigh, my mind shorted out and I lost it. My patience was growing frail, ready to crack, and I knew that it was now or never. And I wanted it to be now. I let my hands slip down over his stomach and stop at the button of his jeans, his arousal apparent beneath the tight denim fabric. Just a simple flick of the fingers, and he would be exposed. One button unclasped and we’d be all the more closer to--

“Annette,” Alex’s voice was a harsh, sudden whisper against my cheek, and I noticed that his hands had stilled on my skin. “Maybe,” the words sounded like they were costing him, and his eyes were squeezed shut, “Maybe we should wait.”
Uh… was all I could think. Had I missed something? This had been going so well, so fast, so exciting. And now he wanted to stop? Now he wanted to wait? If I could have caught enough of my breath, I would have screamed.

“Is this your first time?” I joked, running a hand of the smoothness of his jaw, “Because I promise I’ll be gentle.” He laughed roughly, opening his eyes. They were dark and conflicted, but oddly resolved. We weren’t getting anywhere tonight, though I sensed he still desperately wanted to.

I licked my lips and stared into those glittering pools of darkness, “I don’t understand you, Gaskarth.”

He swallowed audible, rolling off of me to lay by my side, staring up at the ceiling. “Annette,” he said quietly, “You’re absolutely beautiful, brilliant, talented, and funny. You’re sweet and honest, and always there for people. You take everything in stride, and you party like a rock star. I,” he sighed, running a hand through his hair, “Have never been more comfortable with a woman.

“You say all of this like it’s a bad thing,” I muttered, glancing at him, his bare chest rising and falling rapidly in the dark of the room.

“Not a bad thing,” he insisted, rising up on his elbows to look at me. “But Annette, you have to understand that I’m a physical guy. As bad as it may be, I do have a tendency to have sex early on, and that usually leads to sex becoming a center point of the relationship. He took my hand in his and leaned over me, kissing my cheek softly. “So as much as I want you right now--and I really, really, really, really want you--I refuse to fuck this up like I have before.”

Even though what he was saying made perfect sense, my body was still voicing rather strong opinions to the contrary. “Don’t I have any say in this?”

“As long as your say is ‘yes, I completely agree that we should wait.’ If not, then no.”

I stared at him for a long beat, watching the tiny smirk on his face. “You suck,” I grumbled finally, rolling onto my side to face the wall, looking away from him and his shirtless state that was driving me crazy.

He snickered quietly, and I heard him get up to pull his shirt back over his shoulders, and then he leaned at the side of the bed, looking into my eyes once more. “The way I see it, you’ve got two options: Stay here and be pouty, or come take the dogs out with me.”

I was silent for a while, trying to bring my head back to rationality. When I’d finally managed this (somewhat), I asked, “Can we go get ice cream with the dogs?”

“It’s almost midnight.”

“We’ve got Bottles,” I told him, sitting up and smoothing my hands over my hair, “All night drive thru with ice cream and frozen custard.”

He smiled at my change in attitude, reaching out a hand to help me to my feet. “Bottles it is,” he told me, pulling me in for a hug and kissing the top of my head, “Anything for you, baby.”