The club was loud, which precluded any conversation. Normally, that didn't bother Chris, but for all their email messages and everything else, he didn't feel like he knew Marissa very well. And yes, he'd admit it was his fault, but he'd tried to make up for lost time. Unfortunately, he hadn't left himself much time to do that, and she was leaving....
A hand waved before his eyes. "Hello, earth to Chris. Houston, I think we have a problem, we have no contact...." He blinked and grinned at Marissa, who was smiling mischievously up at him. "Hi, welcome back. How was it on the planet you were on?"
"Quieter," he said.
She lifted an eyebrow. "Is that a good thing?"
His eyes drifted around the crowded room, then back to her. "How enamored are you of this place?"
Her second eyebrow went up in surprise. "Enamored?" she repeated with a laugh. "Hardly." She rolled her eyes as the crowd joined in on the song. "I wanna join you on your quiet planet."
He laughed. "I don't know if that's possible, but we can go, if you want."
"Do you want to?" she asked, all seriousness, her eyes searching his face. He didn't know what for.
He shrugged. "Either way." His eyes slid around the club again, catching sight of JC and Anika thoroughly enjoying themselves, and just beyond them was Justin, who looked like he wasn't going to stop anytime soon. "All of a sudden, I feel really old," he told her, turning to grin at her.
She chuckled. "Right. You're barely thirty."
"I know. But I am seriously considering going back to the hotel, and it's not even 11 yet." He reached for her hand, and pulled her closer, slipping his other arm around her. "You interested?"
She grinned up at him. "I actually don't care; cheesy as it may seem, I'd like to be where you are. Which is why I wanted to go to your quieter planet. You weren't here."
His smile faded and he stared at her. Her smile faltered as well. "What?" she asked, almost too quiet to be heard.
He let her hand go and gently brushed her hair off her forehead, then leaned down and kissed her.
Marissa was startled. She was sure she'd made him angry, but not if this kiss was any indication! He finally let her go, but it took a minute for her eyes to open. Her hands were still clenched in his shirt, his arm around her waist about the only thing keeping her on her feet.
He grinned down at her. "If you don't mind, lets get out of here."
"Do we have to tell someone?" she asked as his grip around her waist eased. She let his shirt go, glad to see that this one, at least, didn't hold wrinkles.
"You grab our stuff, I'll tell JC." He winked at her and slipped onto the dance floor. She turned, still a little dazed, and made her way over to the coat check.
He met her there, and took his light jacket from her. "JC says they'll be late. I don't know what's gonna happen with Justin."
"He's a big boy," Marissa grinned. "Don't worry about him. Besides, Matt's watching him." She indicated the big body guard.
"That's taken care of, then," he said with a shrug, and they stepped into the night.
Back at the hotel, they slipped quickly through the lobby to the elevator, where they leaned against each other, laughing at their own antics. "Sneaking around," Marissa chuckled as the door closed. "It's a completely new experience."
Chris grinned down at her. "Really? You never dated someone your parents didn't approve of?"
"Amazingly, no. You?"
"No. My sneaking around came after *N Sync."
She looked up at him, head tilted slightly. "Do you date a lot?"
"Some." He shrugged uncomfortably.
Marissa fell silent, looking down at the floor, embarrassed. Making Chris uncomfortable was not a good idea. To her surprise, he reached out and took her hand, tugging her closer to him. "You look like you've found that other planet."
She grinned hesitantly up at him. "Oh?" She couldn't think of anything better to say.
"Whatcha thinkin'?"
She shrugged and looked away again. "That I feel like a really bad journalist, asking questions I have no right to."
The doors opened, and he left the elevator. She followed, eyes on the floor, feeling incredibly insecure. He still confused her. "Why don't you think you have any right to ask?" he questioned once he'd paused at his door.
She glanced at him, but he was digging the key out of his pocket. "I guess... because you have all these questions fired at you all the time, you don't need them from me, too," she said quickly.
He stuck the credit card-like key in the door, then scowled as the red light flashed at him. "I hate these things," he mumbled, pulled it out, and tried again. This time he checked the number on the door, and sighed. "It's not so much that I hate them, but that they hate me." He gave her a look of long suffering. "Perhaps you could get my door open?"
She took the key. "I'll have you know that I have no better luck...." The door opened on her first try. "Usually, than you do," she finished as he pushed the door open and ushered her in, his hand in the small of her back. She sat down on the bed and watched him move around the room a little, almost pacing. "Is something wrong?" she asked after a minute, her amusement coming out in her voice.
"I don't know." He sat down next to her. "Is there?"
Her eyes widened. "You're asking me? I guess I've never seen you pace before, but considering that you never sit still unless you're way up high, I shouldn't be too surprised."
He grinned at her. "What weird quirks do you have that I don't know about yet?"
She blinked. "Um. I hate people who think badly of me for something I didn't do?"
"You're asking?" he grinned, and took her hand. She shrugged, and he laughed. "So, tell me. Why didn't you date people your parents didn't approve of?"
Her eyebrows went up, then she shrugged again. "I guess it was because I wanted them to be proud of me. What about you?"
He grinned. "I didn't have time. And no one was interested in me, really."
She gave him an incredulous look. "I find that very hard to believe. I've seen pictures of you from before the pineapple thing, and you were just as cute then as you are now, only without the scruff." She brushed his chin gently with her fingers.
The silliest grin lit up his face. "I'm cute?" he asked, and she laughed.
"I'm not sure which is cuter, your face or...." She paused, growing serious. "I honestly think you're the best looking one of the group, and for some weird reason you tend to hide behind that... thing on your chin." She winked, and grinned again. "But that's just me...." She could feel herself blushing and looked away to hide it, almost nervous.
"Really," he said softly. She shrugged.
"Well, yeah." She looked up suddenly, her eyes sparkling. "Sneaking around parents is one thing. Ever had to sneak around with a girl because your friends didn't like her?"
From the look on his face, like he'd just swallowed the bitterest thing she could imagine, it had been the wrong question. Her smile died. "Never mind," she said quickly. "I'm sorry. I don't mean...."
His fingers touched her lips and she quieted, looking up at him in some worry. "Her name was Tamara," he said. "She was make up artist for Jordan Knight when he opened for us on the "Ain't No Stoppin' Us Now" tour." His hand dropped to his lap. "None of the guys liked her at all. I'm not sure Jordan really liked her, but I never really talked to the guy. But she and I...." He shrugged.
Marissa almost told him to stop, and found she couldn't. She needed to know about this, what had happed to him. "What happened?"
"We had to sneak around." He gave her a half smile. "Besides management having fits, the guys really didn't like her. At least the body guards were cool about helping me out."
"Why didn't they like her?"
"I never asked. At least none of them said 'I told you so' when it was over." His hands twisted together. "At least, they haven't yet." His smile looked sick, and Marissa reached over and took one hand.
"What happened?"
He was silent for a moment. "She showed her true colors." With a sudden shrug, he grinned. "I've been dreaming of that hot tub down there all day. Care to join me?"
Marissa blinked at the sudden shift in topic, then nodded. "Sure. Relaxation is always good." She smiled at him, her mind spinning. This happened quite some time ago; but what had happened? She showed her true colors, what does that mean? "But no water fights."
He literally pouted, his eyes sparkling behind the expression on his face, and she couldn't help it. She laughed at him. The pout turned into an injured expression so adorable she couldn't stand it, and she leaned over to kiss him.
With some relief, Chris took control of the kiss, pulling her closer. He slipped his right hand into her hair, and his left arm encircled her waist. And even while kissing her, he felt an immense amount of relief that she hadn't pressed for more information. When they separated, Marissa just stared at him. She didn't know much about him, really, and the passion he exhibited sometimes took her breath away. She just hoped she didn't get swept away in it all.
"What is it about my shirts you like so much?" he asked, and she jerked her eyes up to his, smiling at the mirth in them.
"What?"
"Just remind me not to kiss you without a shirt on."
She became aware, then, that she'd fisted his shirt again. She relaxed her hands, feeling the muscles in his arms. "It's not the shirts," she told him. "It's what's in them that I like. But we're not getting any closer to that hot tub."
He shrugged. "You in a hurry?"
Marissa relaxed against him, laying her head on his shoulder. "No, not really. You?"
He chuckled, and it echoed weirdly to her. "Me? Hurry? No. Although I'm rarely late. That's JC."
"I'd noticed. He and Anika make a good pair in that aspect. Unfortunately, they're likely to make each other later, rather than help each other be on time."
Chris shuddered. Her breath on his neck was just a little too close for comfort, and so he let her go. She sat up, smiling. "Okay," he said. "Hot tub."
"Cool beans. I'll met you in the hall in five minutes?"
"What's gonna take you so long?"
She laughed. "Finding my room, trying to get the door open with these stupid keys, and finding the swimsuit," she told him, and got up. It elicited a groan from her. "Oh, for Pete's sake," she muttered. "I'm already stiff."
"Good thing we're headed for the hot tub, then, right?" Chris teased.
Marissa scowled at him. "You have no idea how jealous I am of you, do you," she said in mock-exasperation. His smile faltered. "I wish I had your energy and stamina."
He grinned and stood as well. "Join a boy band."
Marissa burst into laughter. Chris gave her an incredulous look, which only made her laugh harder, and she finally sat down on the floor, leaning against the bed. "I think that would be... ludicrous," she finally gasped. He sat on the bed next to where she sat, and looked down at her innocently.
"Why is that?"
She chuckled. "Um, unless you twist in ways I don't know about, hon, I'm just not boy band material. Key word being boy...."
"That's a relief." He winked at her, then pulled her up to the bed next to him.
"Yeah, I thought you'd think that." She took a deep breath, and leaned to kiss his check. His head turned just in time and she caught his lips.
"I'm gonna go change," she told him with a wry smile.
"All right. five minutes?"
"Give or take," she nodded, and left the room.
Chris stared at the door, thoughts jumbled. He didn't know what to think of her. She seemed so real - oh, and he was such a good judge of that! Tamara had felt real, too. At least at first. He turned to get his swimsuit out, and paused. Had anyone reimbursed her for the ticket to catch up with them, when the women had been left behind? He'd have to check into that.
Marissa opened her door, closed it, and leaned against it with a sigh of relief. She liked Chris, and definitely enjoyed kissing him, but sometimes, she felt like she was under a huge magnifying glass, that everything she said and did was under suspicion. "To be honest," she muttered as she pushed away from the door, "the sometimes is anytime I open my mouth to say something to him." No, she thought as she began to dig through her suitcase, that was unfair. He was fun to talk to. She didn't have to guard all her words. "Just most of them."
She changed, wondering exactly what she wanted from him. It wasn't realistic to think she didn't want something. Everyone wanted something, even if it was as innocent as wanting his friendship. That she definitely wanted, and she wouldn't deny it. But she wasn't sure she could handle the girlfriend bit much longer, and she was surprised to find herself almost seriously considering breaking up with him.
A sharp knock on her door broke her from her thoughts. She pulled her hooded vest over her swimsuit, grabbed a towel, and opened the door.
"Hi," Chris grinned. "Ready?"
"You bet," Marissa smiled, checked to make sure she had her key, and followed him to the elevator. Dre followed, scowling slightly. "Is he mad at you?" she whispered as they waited.
"He's always mad at me," Chris said, glancing back at Dre with a smirk. "Right?"
"If you weren't so..."
"Annoying?" Marissa asked, and giggled at Chris' mock-offended look. "As if you weren't trying to be as annoying as possible?"
"Annoying doesn't begin to cover it," Dre said. "Tim's going to have a fit."
Chris scowled. "Good. Speaking of Tim, Riss, did he ever reimburse you for the bus ticket?"
She scowled at him. "You know, that southern gentleman of yours is gonna get himself killed if y'all insist on calling me that," she told him flatly as the elevator door opened. They all stepped in.
"Y'all?" Chris asked with a chuckle. "It sounds like you've been hanging around him a little long."
Marissa shook her head, hiding her relief that she'd managed to distract him from that topic. "Two years in Texas. I held out almost six months before succumbing, and I can't get rid of it."
"How long has it been since you lived there?"
"Six years. Insidious, isn't it."
Chris chuckled, and Dre shot her an incredulous glance. "Y'all is insidious," Chris repeated.
"Hey, I know you guys have used it. I babysat a girl with your home video, so I got to see it a couple of times."
He gave her a curious look. "When?"
"Macy's.... "When I say 'n, you say Sync," she said. "The last one was "y'all say Sync". Now you say "Everybody say Sync"."
His eyebrows drew together. "I don't remember that."
"I suppose it was Justin and Lance's influence, though," she mused playfully. "Both from the south and all. Except then Justin wasn't saying it, he was doing the beat box behind it. He's good," she added. An amused smile had crossed Chris' face, and she caught it. "What?" she asked.
"You are funny," he said.
"Looks aren't everything," she said, almost automatically, completely flippantly.
Dre laughed at the stunned expression on Chris' face. The elevator opened and she stepped out, starting for the pool, and by the time she was halfway there, she realized she was alone. She turned around, but there was no sight of Dre or Chris. Hesitant and wary, she stood there for a minute, then started back to the elevator. She couldn't decide if she'd just made him hate her, or if he were playing a joke on her. She'd just reached the corner when Chris came around it and nearly ran her over; she remained on her feet only because he grabbed her arm to steady her. His dark eyes were sparkling in an undeniable humor when she met them next. "I still don't understand your sense of humor," he told her gently as he let her go again, only to offer his arm as an escort. She grinned and took it.
"I guess turn about is fair play," she murmured softly, glancing slyly up through her lashes.
"What is there not to understand about my humor?" he asked in mock offence.
"Oh, the humor is easy. It's the rest of you that has me baffled." Marissa paused. "Other than your motives for some things."
"Like what?" he asked as he pulled the door open.
"Like the 'Chris just wants to have fun' motive for the tricks you do to people."
He chuckled as they stepped into the pool area. "That's my only motive?"
"Nah. I'm sure there's a revenge motive, and one-up-manship...." She glanced at him. "Is that even a word?"
He shrugged. "Don't care. You going to get in the hot tub or swim?"
"Swim, and show you just how out of shape I am. Then I'm getting in the hot tub." She set the towel down, pulled the vest over her head, and did a shallow dive into the pool. It took her all of one lap to begin gasping for breath, and she leaned against the wall, grinning at Chris. He was half reclined in the Jacuzzi, bubbles creating a wall of sound that she would have to shout to break through. He did look relaxed.
Marissa did two more laps, paused long enough to catch her breath, then got out of the pool. She stood near the edge, watching him doze, then a smirk crossed her face. She knelt down and scooped water into her hands, then carried it very carefully over to where he was. Carefully, she positioned herself to get out of the way quickly, and dropped the relatively cold water on his chest.
Chris shot to his feet with a yell even as she backed away from him. "That's cold!" he protested with mock outrage, turning to find her.
"What, the water? It's not that bad," she told him, and gestured to the pool. "In fact, it's nice. You should try swimming in it."
"You were the one who said no water fights!" he reminded her, climbing out of the tub and starting toward her.
"Did you see a water fight?" she protested, fighting to keep the smile off her face and failing. "There was no water flying at faces or anywhere else." She backed away from him, and bumped into the wall. The smile that crossed his face was evil. She began edging sideways. "That is the criteria of a water fight, so far as I understand it. Water flying at people. There was no flying water." She got far enough around that she was able to dive for the pool, so she did, with a poorly-executed shallow racing dive that shot her toward the other end of the pool.
He was standing there when she stood, and reached down to grip her arm. She pulled back. They remained in that frozen tableau for an instant until he lost his balance. In a flash, she was half out of the water before he could recover, and only barely managed to pull herself out and away from the edge, laughing hysterically. She had to sit down for the second time that night when he leaned against the wall, arms folded on the top of the pool, one eyebrow lifted. "You think you're getting out of this, don't you?" he asked when she'd calmed down again.
"Oh, laugh, Chris," she grinned, but didn't move as he climbed out of the pool. She actually couldn't yet; she hadn't recovered from her laughter. And to be honest, it was partially because she'd never seen him shirtless before.
She'd been right; his chest and arms were defined, and if he didn't have the washboard abs that Justin sported, that was fine with her. Neither did she. She had absolutely no complaints about the body.
He slowed. "What?"
She smiled. "What what?"
"You should have seen that expression on your face. What was that for?"
She climbed to her feet. "Just admiring the view, I guess." He flushed slightly and looked flustered, and she grinned. "What, not used to compliments?"
He reddened more, and a smile quirked his lips. Then he took the two steps that separated them and pulled her into a kiss. It was a sweet kiss that slowly intensified until she was completely lost again. All that she was aware of when he let her go was that his arm was holding her up, and her hands were locked behind his neck. Her eyes slowly opened to meet his brown ones, and he smiled at her. She smiled in response, unable to do anything else.
"What ever happened to no kissing you without a shirt on you?" she asked softly as soon as she could make her mouth work again.
He looked stunned for a minute. "Oh. Um. I forgot about that."
She chuckled. "Convenient, eh?"
"I'm all about convenience," he grinned, and eased his grip around her. She got her balance back and unlocked her hands from behind his neck.
"I'm sure you are." She shook her head and stepped away from him. "And a few other things."
"Oh? Like what?"
"You and fun seem to go hand in hand," she shrugged, and stepped into the hot tub. It was with a sigh of utter relief that she sank down and closed her eyes. She felt Chris go by her, and settle down at about a right angle. His legs slipped under hers and she smiled slightly. "You like to play footsy?" she teased gently.
"Only with cute women," he said with a chuckle.
"Hm. Should I be insulted, then?" She said it lightly, still teasing.
"Why?" He sounded drowsily curious.
"You never played footsy with me."
"Oh, that's an easy one. You're not cute. You're on a much higher level, somewhere around beautiful."
Marissa could tell by the way her face heated up that she was blushing, and she slipped under the water to try to hide it. A hand on her back brought her back up to the surface. "Oh. Well, um. Thanks," she stuttered, but didn't dare open her eyes, afraid to see the mockery in his face.
"You're welcome," he whispered, his mouth near her ear. Slowly, she opened her eyes, startled to see his eyes so close. "And I'm not the only one not used to compliments," he teased her gently.
"That's how I recognized the signs," she grinned, and wiggled out of his grip. "Time to cool off."
He lifted an eyebrow. "Me, or you?"
"Me, for sure," she grinned. "You can join me if you want." She stood and left the hot tub, and jumped ungracefully into the pool, only to surface with a gasp. "Wow, that's cold," she said.
"Now you see why I reacted the way I did?" Chris asked as he sat on the edge of the pool and dangled his feet in the water.
Marissa laughed. "Oh, come on. I knew that was going to happen. At least this pool is heated. Imagine what it would be like if it hadn't been."
He chuckled. "I can, in fact. And so can Justin...." His smile was evil as he dipped his hand in the pool and flicked water at her. Her eyes narrowed, but she simply raised her hand out of the water and flicked him back.
"Hey," he protested. "No water fights."
She grinned at him, turned, and swam away from him, only to return when she reached the opposite wall. He hadn't moved. She folded her arms over his knees, put her chin on her folded hands, and looked up at him with a smile on her face. He chuckled. Before he could say anything, Dre cleared his throat, and they both looked at him. "The manager has informed me that the pool is closed," he said.
"Which manager?" Chris asked, a dangerous note in his voice.
"Which do you think?" Dre asked.
Chris sighed. "I guess it doesn't matter." His fingers lingered on Marissa's cheek, then she pulled away and climbed out of the pool next to him.
"So, back to the rooms," she said, and leaned down to kiss his forehead.
"Movie?" he asked as he stood and followed her to where they'd dumped their stuff.
"Depends. What did you have in mind?"
"Something with action."
"Bang 'em up, shoot 'em ups are my favorite," she grinned, finger combing her hair. "Can I change first?"
"Of course." His eyes sparkled with humor, and she chuckled.
"Good."
They were quiet, one of those comfortable silences, on their way up the elevator.
Marissa quickly changed into jeans and a t-shirt once she'd reached her room, and ran a brush through her hair. Well, she was going to look horrid in the morning for the plane ride, but that was okay. She'd get a shower when she got home. She left the room, sliding the key into her pocket, and walked down to Chris' room. Dre gave her an amused grin from the end of the hall as she knocked, and she grinned back. Chris opened the door and let her in.
"Got anything in mind?" he asked as she sat down on the bed.
"Nope. Something with explosions and stuff is fine with me."
He chuckled, pressed a button on the remote, and bounced onto the bed, his bare feet drumming on the wall, his head on his folded hands. Marissa chuckled and slid backwards on the bed until she leaned against the wall. She pulled one of the pillows into her lap as the movie started, then she grinned. "Die Hard? What, you read my mind? This is great!"
He chuckled. "Yeah, well, I haven't seen it in a while."
They fell quiet as the show started, then Marissa got a mischievous look on her face. She stealthily reached over and ever so gently ran her fingernails down Chris' foot. His leg jerked, and he rolled over to look at her. His dark eyes widened in disbelief as he fell, butt first, off the edge of the bed. Marissa couldn't help herself; she burst into laughter. Catching her breath soon became a priority, but when he peeked over the edge of the bed, she lost it again, curled up against the wall. She closed her eyes and tried to stop laughing, because her ribs and face hurt.
"Am I really that funny?" he asked. He'd gotten back on the bed, she could tell, but she didn't open her eyes.
"Oh, heavens, yes," she gasped, and to her surprise the urge to cry became almost overwhelming. She scrubbed at her eyes, already teary from her laughter, and sat up weakly. 'I'm gonna miss this,' she thought as she smiled at him. "Your expression when you went over the edge was priceless."
He smiled back at her. "You realize that I owe you a lot, just from this evening," he told her. "There's the cold water in the hot tub, and that - never mind tickling my feet...."
Marissa's eyes widened. "So... what are you going to do?" she asked.
He paused, then grinned, and Marissa's eyes widened even more. She moved to get off the bed, but he grabbed her arm and pulled her closer to him. "Are you ticklish?" he whispered, and started in on her before she could even answer. It had been years since she'd been tickled like this. Her own defenses were rusty but still remembered and almost instinctive. Unfortunately, he was better at it than she was.
Finally, they both lay side by side, gasping for breath and laughing. "Ugh," Marissa groaned. "I bet you were a terror to your sisters."
"I still am," he said. "But one of me against four of them isn't good odds. I go for the practical jokes instead."
Marissa tried to laugh, and groaned again. "My ribs hurt."
Chris reached over and laced his fingers through hers. "But it was fun."
"Oh, yes. It was fun." She smiled at him. "This whole trip has been fun. Like I said, the 'Chris just wants to have fun' motive of yours."
"Ah, that." An explosion on the screen caught their attention, and Marissa sighed.
"So, you guys are off tomorrow, only this time you're going somewhere."
Chris chuckled. "Where do you come up with those?"
"What?"
"Little... remarks that have double meanings."
"Most of them were from junior high. I guess I never outgrew them. Which is rather scary," she mused. "I haven't been there for about...." She paused a long time. "Way too many years to count." She shrugged, dismissing it. "And the 'looks aren't everything' quote is from my roommate in Texas."
"I'm going to borrow it."
"Go for it. It's not like I could stop you," she grinned. "You should get quite a bit of mileage out of it."
"True." They were quiet; on the TV, another explosion went off.
"You're missing your movie," Marissa said softly.
"Yeah," Chris responded, sounding rather like he didn't care. "What are your plans for next week?"
Marissa sighed. "Ugh. Work."
"You sound so excited."
"My job is not like yours. Either of yours," she added. "I don't know that I could pull off the clothing thing, but I'd love to do all this traveling. Maybe I should join a boy band."
"As you pointed out, Riss, you just aren't cut out for the job."
"I am gonna kill him, you know," she said conversationally. "He deserves to die."
"No, no killing. Leave that to John McLean." He gestured at the television.
"But he won't go after Lance because he dug up this horrid nick name," she protested weakly.
"It's not horrid. I like it."
"I guessed. You keep using it. So, are you the kind of person to use a nick name even though that person doesn't like it?"
"Why do you think I call Lance albino?"
"Very well, Shorty...."
"Hey!" he protested, raising up on one elbow. "None of that!"
Marissa reached up and pushed his shoulder, but he remained stubbornly up. "And why not?" she asked. "It's fair."
"There is nothing fair about it," he said.
"No? Why not? And from the look on Justin's face, he doesn't like Curly much, either."
"Nope." Chris grinned evilly. "He doesn't. He deserves it, though."
"By the same token, you deserve being called Shorty."
"I'm not that short. Drew Lachey is short."
"How do you know that?"
"I've met him," Chris shrugged. "He's barely taller than you."
"Oh, the poor guy," Marissa said, and chuckled. "I bet he gets teased worse than you do. That doesn't mean that your friends don't deserve to call you Shorty. They're all taller than you." He pouted at her, and she grinned. "Just so you know, that doesn't work on me."
He smiled slyly. "Yet."
She lifted an eyebrow. "Yet?"
He nodded sharply. "Yet. I will have you under my spell soon. Now you're on your guard, but soon enough, you'll let that down, and I will work my magic, and you'll be mine." He laughed evilly, and she chuckled.
"You are too much," she told him. What she didn't tell him was that she was already his, that his magic had already worked. She wasn't ready for him to have quite that much power over her.
"So they tell me." He leaned down and kissed her gently. "You know what?"
"Yeah, taller than me, red hair, played second base? He died about 14 years ago."
His eyes narrowed. "What are you afraid of?"
"That you'll make me cry."
He blinked, surprised, then sat up and focused all his attention on her. That was not a look she wanted aimed at her, that intense look like he was seeing right through her. Self consciously, she sat up and hugged her knees to her chest. "I wouldn't do that," he told her.
"Not on purpose," she nodded.
"You think I will without meaning to?"
She chuckled at his confused expression. "I don't think you can keep from doing it."
A look of comprehension crossed his face. "You don't want to go anymore than I want you to," he said.
"Apparently not." She turned her head and watched as John McLean cleaned the glass out of his foot. "So, what do we do?"
Chris sighed. "Face it like the adults we never wanted to be."
She let her knees go, adjusting her legs so they were folded under her, sitting Indian style. "Do we have to?"
"What's the other choice?"
"Have a fight and pretend we hate each other?" she asked.
He laughed. "That would be a riot. Could you see their faces?"
"I'd be interrogated as soon as I got on the plane."
"So would I," Chris grinned. "Not a pleasant experience, with four interrogators."
An explosion from the tv caught their attention again, and Marissa smiled. "So, let's not behave like adults or spoiled children. Let's just ignore it."
Chris nodded. "That sounds like a great idea. Keep your hands off my feet." He lay down on his stomach again, his toes against the back wall. Marissa lay next to him, shoulder to shoulder, very aware of the man next to her and struggling to focus on the movie.
A knock on the door made Chris stir sleepily, and he looked up to see snow on the tv screen. Marissa slept next to him, arms tucked under her, and her head turned away from him. He didn't remember her falling asleep. But then, he didn't remember falling asleep himself.
The knock repeated itself. With a groan, Chris pulled himself up and stumbled toward the door. He opened it, blinking sleepily at JC and Anika. "What?"
"Is Marissa in here?" Anika asked.
"Yeah, why?"
"Good."
"What happened to you?" JC laughed.
"Fell asleep watching the movie. So'd she. Hang on, I'll get her up." He turned back to the bed and paused at the end of it, looking down at her. With a grimace, he shook her shoulder. "Hey, Riss, wake up," he said gently.
Her eyes fluttered, and she stirred groggily. "Oh. Did I fall asleep? Sorry about that," she mumbled, and pushed herself up. She looked at the snow on the tv and sighed. "And again, I miss a movie I've always wanted to see, and never have."
"Anika is here to take you home," Chris said softly.
Her eyes widened in disbelief. "Home? I'm not packed yet!" She lurched off the bed, but Chris caught her.
"I'm sorry, bad choice of words." He wished his brain wasn't full of soft serve ice cream. "You've got about four hours until you have to go. And why aren't you packed?" he teased as he walked her toward the door.
"Tim's gonna kill you," she mumbled. "Four hours of sleep? Don't you have a concert or something tomorrow night?"
JC chuckled. "We'll give him sugar. He'll be fine."
"He'll be more hyper than you," Marissa muttered. "Thanks for the evening and the whole on-tour experience," she said, and pulled Chris down for a quick kiss.
"I'll see you in the morning," he told her gently, and she stepped away from him.
"Go to bed," she said firmly, if still a little sleepily.
"You, too," he responded, then Anika took her arm and started her down the hall.
"Night," JC said with a grin, and followed them. Chris closed the door, leaned against it, and sighed. He couldn't believe he'd fallen asleep. Of all the times to do that. With a second sigh, he stumbled back to the bed, turned the tv off, and crawled in bed.
Go on to Next Chapter | Chance