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---Part Twelve--- Abbey dressed quickly,
twisted her hair back into an efficient knot, and grabbed her keycard before
heading down to the hotel restaurant. She was a little worried that she
wouldn't be able to find J.C. and Lance, but the sound of laughter alerted
her to their presence -- as did Mike, sitting near their table with a
long-suffering expression on his round face. As she drew closer, Abbey saw
J.C. flinch under a barrage of water flicked at him by Lance. "What's up?"
she asked, taking the empty seat next to Lance. "Someone in need of
cooling down?" "He's just jealous
because Karyn's meeting us in Cleveland," J.C. reported. "Am not," Lance
said, affecting a sullen glare. "Besides, Carrie's probably coming out
to see us in Cincinnati." "You guys are so
cute," Abbey chuckled. "Pathetic is more
like it." Justin entered the conversation casually, straddling the seat
opposite Abbey. J.C. gave him a dry look, eyebrows raised, at that comment. "I don't think you
have room to comment," Lance noted, glancing significantly at Abbey.
Mortified, Abbey felt herself blush. "Ha, ha, it is to
laugh," Justin said as he picked up a menu. "Well, he's coherent
without the benefit of cereal," J.C. observed, his voice hushed and
smooth as if he were a golf commentator. "You're right.
Something's definitely changed here," Lance agreed. "Could it be? Is our
little Justy all growed up and in love?" J.C. laughed, grinning when
Justin turned a glare on him. "Quit it, you
guys," Abbey said. Justin gave her a grateful look, and she smiled
softly at him. It was so easy to respond without thinking -- smiling,
hugging, kisses that had become almost commonplace (if far from common); that
easy way of just being around him scared Abbey a little, but she was
learning to enjoy it. --- The next day, they drove
up to Columbus. During the day, a visit to a children's hospital had been
scheduled; Abbey prepped her cameras in the bus as they drove over, since she
had been asked to take pictures for a feature on the visit. She knew that the
guys weren't looking forward to this -- not because they didn't want to see
the kids, but because the sight of young children who were sick or terminally
ill was always heart-rending. Almost as soon as they
got to the hospital, Abbey saw why. One ward had been cleared, making room
for the children who couldn't be moved from their beds, while other, more
mobile kids were grouped on chairs and cushions. The children's enthusiasm at
seeing the band was evident in the smiles and cheers that greeted them; but
Abbey's heart broke to see the children too weak to even sit up to see their
idols. The guys made their way
slowly through the room, all their attention on the kids; they seemed
oblivious to the doctors and nurses who popped up in the doors to watch their
celebrity guests. Abbey had taken about a roll of emotional shots when she
suddenly felt a stab of guilt. Chris was reaching down, carefully embracing a
fragile young girl in a hospital gown; the girl's arms were bruised from
where IVs had been placed, a sign of her probably terminal leukemia. Abbey
found her hands shaking too much to keep the camera steady as she tried to
focus the lens. Taking a deep breath, she put it down. The emotion in Chris's
face was too private, too intense to share; it felt almost as if she was
exploiting his pain by taking the picture. Without another thought,
she began packing up the camera. They could do a group shot later; that would
be more than sufficient. As she zipped the last
case closed, she looked up to see Justin approaching. Though his face was set
in grim resolve, she saw the despair in his eyes, and stood up to hug him. Justin put his arms
around her shoulders, gripping her tightly and pressing his forehead to her
neck. Abbey could feel his body shaking as he fought the tears that
threatened. Her arms went around his waist, holding him close; resting her
head on his shoulder, she let him react to whatever had tipped him off. After a few minutes, he
seemed to relax somewhat. Abbey felt his body slacken a little, the grip on
her shoulders easing. "You okay?" she asked him in a soft voice. He nodded, swallowing,
before flocking his gaze to her. "This is always hard," he said
thickly. "Thanks." "No... no
problem," she replied. Her voice came out in barely a whisper from a
mouth gone suddenly dry; she could feel all of him pressed against her,
joined to him by the electric connection of their eyes. Giggling began to sound
around them; Abbey broke the gaze to see some of the girls nearby, their
hands over their mouths and their shoulders shaking with mirth. Clearing her
throat, Abbey stepped away from Justin. "Your adoring
public," she said, smiling. Justin gave her a smile, a look that
promised that this would be continued later, and walked over to the girls.
The swagger had returned to his stride, she noticed. Hastily, she reached for
her bags, telling herself firmly that she had not been checking out his butt. --- The next couple of days
passed uneventfully. Abbey began to enjoy her newfound closeness with Justin;
in ways it scared her, but she thought that maybe being scared might be a
good thing. She'd played her life safe and conservative for so long that
she'd begun to forget that acting on impulse could be fun, rewarding. She'd been hanging out
with the guys in the waiting room before the St. Louis show; as she stood up,
wishing them a good show, and headed for the door to get into her position,
Justin stopped her. "Hey," he said,
his voice lowered. "Do you, uh, want to go out tomorrow night?" "Just us?" she
asked, raising an eyebrow. "Yeah. It'd be a
date." He scuffed a foot on the carpet, looking up at her from under the
brim of the hat he wore during the first number; his eyes were sweet,
endearing. "Okay." The
word came out of her mouth before she could even think about it. Justin gave
her a grin, and she smiled back at him, feeling an odd bubble of
breathlessness in her chest, before he headed back to the guys to start their
pre-show rituals. Heart pounding, Abbey left
the room and steered for the press area, her body moving on auto-pilot. I'm
going out on a date. With Justin. What's wrong with me? I should never have
let it get this far. I was supposed to say no. I can't wait until tomorrow
night. Am I out of my mind? She had to shove her
turmoiled thoughts aside during the show to focus on the pictures, but every
time she brought the lens to bear on Justin, she remembered again how his
eyes had looked when he'd asked her. It didn't help that he glanced at her
several times during the show, winking and smiling at different points, and
his gaze rested on her for a few lines of "This I Promise You". I still don't believe
in promises. I don't! Apparently word had
spread quickly. When she returned to the hotel room after the show, Michaela
leaned out of the bathroom area -- where she was putting on makeup for the
evening's festivities -- to grin at her. "Congratulations!" "Thanks."
Abbey's tone was only mildly sarcastic. She'd heard this from enough of the
crew now that it was starting to get a bit annoying. "What, you're not
excited? I thought you liked him." "I -- I do like
him." It was the first time she'd admitted it out loud, and briefly she
was amazed that her feelings for him had made such a thorough turnaround in what
seemed such a short period of time. "Well, when we get
in tomorrow, I'm gonna take you out and get a haircut and a makeover. Maybe
hit a nail salon, too." Michaela strode out into the bedroom area,
reaching for the high-tech sneakers she'd tossed on her bed earlier.
"And don't give me that look. You need a girly day." Abbey sighed, letting the
annoyed look on her face lapse. "Slavedriver," she muttered as she
dug through her bag for her nightshirt. "You know it,"
Michaela replied smugly. "Do you need clothes?" "He said slacks
would be fine. I have a few nice outfits." "Mm. Well, we'll
see." Once she had finished putting on her shoes, Michaela grabbed her
keycard and purse. "Don't wait up for me!" she called as she headed
out the door. "Never happen,"
Abbey told the door closing behind her roommate. --- Approximately eighteen
hours later, Justin stood in the lobby of the Cleveland Ritz-Carlton, pacing
before the elevators. He'd told Abbey to be there at 6:30, and it was almost
twenty to seven now. She was late. Maybe she wasn't coming. He paused in
front of a mirror hung between the elevators, checking his appearance as he'd
already done a hundred times. He'd worn a dress shirt and slacks in neutral
colors, keeping it low-key; tonight wasn't about being flashy or showing off.
Finally, one of the
elevator's doors slid open; Justin turned to see who it was, as he'd already
had a few false alarms. Fortunately, Mike was standing nearby in case any
problems occurred. Abbey stepped out of the
elevator. She was tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear, and when she
looked up and smiled at him, Justin's jaw dropped. He'd never seen her in
real, full-out makeup before, since she usually only wore a little
foundation. The effect was subtle, yet at the same time her face seemed
thoroughly transformed, shimmering with a soft glamour. A few strands of hair
framed her face; the rest had been pulled up in a twist that turned back on
itself along the back of her head, tucking under at the nape, the whole thing
like something a movie star from the forties might wear. Abbey's shoulders were
bare, revealed by a spaghetti-strapped top in rich violet. Justin took in her
whole outfit -- black slacks, sandal-styled heels that showed off her slender
feet, as well as the light jacket over one arm and the small black purse
clutched in the opposite hand -- before he finally managed to wrench his jaw
back into place. Hoarsely, honestly, he said, "You look amazing." She smiled softly, her
eyes flicking downward in acknowledgement. "Thanks. So do you." Justin managed to get
himself under control (but damn, he thought, she looks incredible),
offering his arm. Abbey took it as she gave him a curious glance. "So
where are we headed?" she asked. "It's a
surprise," he told her, smiling. She slanted him a guarded
look, but didn't protest as he took her outside, where a limousine was pulled
up to the curb at the front doors. The driver was already waiting with the
door open, and Justin handed Abbey into the limo as easily as if he'd been doing
so all his life. (Which, she reflected, probably wasn't far from the truth.) Abbey took comfort in
being able to engage in small talk with Justin during the limo ride. She told
him about her day, how Michaela had dragged her from hair salon to makeup department
to nail salon -- at this last, she held up one hand, fingers newly tipped in
a set of evenly trimmed and painted fingernails -- and how the hairstylist
had laughed when told who Abbey's date for the evening was. "She didn't believe
you?" Justin asked, pretending to be horrified at the hairstylist's
disbelief. "Thought I was
delusional." Abbey laughed. "And Michaela's behind me telling the
lady to just humor me, I hadn't had my meds yet--" She rolled her eyes
as Justin laughed. "She's pure evil, I tell you." "You know, she's
been with us since our first tour. She's a trip." "I know," Abbey
said, stonefaced. Justin laughed again. Eventually, the limo
pulled up into the curving driveway of a large building whose front face was
styled in a tasteful art deco look. Lights mounted on the lawn picked out
large letters on the overhang that spelled out the name "Cloud Nine
Ballroom". "Where in the
world..?" Abbey said softly, turning her gaze from the letters to
Justin. "Don't lose your
nerve now," he replied, seeing her confusion as hesitation, possibly
even nervousness. Her eyes held a dubious
look, but she allowed him to help her out of the limo without a fuss.
Together, her arm tucked into his, they walked into the building. The ballroom was already
in full swing, the wide dance floor thick with couples moving and shaking. On
the stage, a full orchestra belted out a classic Louis Prima tune, setting
the air alive with shimmering, vibrant music. The musicians themselves seemed
to be having as good a time as those they entertained; many of them stood to
deliver their parts in the song, their heads nodding in time. The dining area was also
crowded, and for a moment Abbey worried that there might be a problem; but a
glance told her that most of the people her were their age or older, not as
likely to cause a riot over the fact that a member of 'N Sync was in their
midst. They were escorted to an
out-of-the-way table by the hostess, an older lady who winked at Justin as
she handed out their menus. Justin gave her a polite smile, but rolled his
eyes after she was gone. "Hm, I think she was
coming on to you, Justin," Abbey noted, chuckling. "Can't say I
blame her." "She's old enough to
be my mom," he said, looking disgusted and running a hand over his hair.
He'd had the cornrows taken out tonight, and after so long with them in, his
hair felt strange to him. "Okay, just ignore
the fact that I gave you a compliment, there," Abbey teased. "Oh, sorry. Thank
you," Justin replied with cool dignity. "Now, as I was
saying..." Abbey hadn't expected to
enjoy the evening as much as she did. Dinner was delicious, and her company
most enjoyable. She was immensely grateful that she'd taken a dance class
during college, dragged by a friend who didn't want to go alone; as the moves
came back to her, she managed to acquit herself creditably enough to draw a
compliment from Justin. They were approached by a couple of autograph
seekers, but in each case Justin handled them with polite charm and sent them
off with the autograph with a minimum of fuss. She wasn't sure how long
they'd been dancing, but when they went back to the table to refresh
themselves with some water, Abbey found herself yawning into her glass. "Tired?" Justin
asked. Abbey covered her mouth,
nodded, waiting for the yawn to pass before speaking. "Unfortunately,
yeah. I never got any sleep after we got on the buses this morning." "Well, we can go
back," he offered, sympathetic. "I am really
enjoying this," she said, with a regretful tone. "But yeah, I am
starting to get worn out." "Okay." Justin
rose easily, came around to pull Abbey's chair out for her, and took her hand
as they headed out to the waiting limo. Abbey's exhaustion showed
more during the ride back to the hotel; she leaned on Justin's shoulder, her eyes
half-closed, as soon as he had pulled the door shut. Obliging, he re-settled
himself with one arm around her, letting her cuddle to him. It was definitely
a sign that she'd allowed herself to trust him, so easily did she lean into
his proffered comfort without a thought. "Stay awake,"
he murmured to her. "We still have to walk you to your room." "Uh-uh. Don't
wanna," she said, petulant as a child. Amused, and feeling incredibly
tender towards her, Justin let her doze until the limo pulled up at the hotel's
doors. "Come on,
Abbey," he said once they'd arrived. "Time to go upstairs."
Gently, he shook her until she blinked up at him. Her hair was tousled, her
eyes sleep-glazed still, and her lips slightly parted; the elements combined
into an unknowingly seductive whole that made Justin suck in a short breath.
He fought down the impulse; he couldn't attack her in the limo.
"Abbey," he said again. "'M awake," she
mumbled, blinking, and raked a hand over her hair, partially dislodging the
complex hairstyle. The effect was devastating. Maybe no one will notice if
we stay out here, Justin thought to himself, then ruthlessly quashed the
thought. Walking through the halls
of the hotel seemed to revive Abbey to some extent; when they reached her
room, she found her keycard right away. Opening the door, she peered inside
to see if Michaela was present. "No roommate. Come
on," she invited him. "Are you sure?"
he asked. Though this particular line had already been crossed, tonight felt
different, unfamiliar, as though he'd be stepping past the point of no return
if he followed her in. Abbey slanted him a dark,
intense look from underneath her long lashes, one that made his breathing
stop for a moment. "Don't you want a goodnight kiss?" she asked. Justin needed no further
encouragement, stepping into the room after her with all due haste. Abbey
tossed the purse and jacket onto the bathroom counter; then she turned, moved
close to Justin, and wound her fingers into his shirt's collar. She made a small whimper
as she kissed him, as he gathered her body close to his. She was warm, soft,
the scent of her floral and utterly feminine; he ran a hand over her hair,
finding the source of the twist and pulling it loose. Her hair flowed over
his fingers in a silken wave. He couldn't keep himself from groaning into her
mouth as she pressed herself closer to him, her pelvis grinding against his. Her mouth was hot and
sweet; her tongue darted into his mouth, dipping and tasting, then pushing
deep. He reciprocated the invasion, giving her his tongue in return, and was
rewarded by the plaintive, mewling noises she made. Dimly, he was aware that
they were both panting shallowly, that the room seemed several degrees warmer,
and that if they didn't soon stop, he would end up doing something he might
regret. But it was getting harder to think, what with more blood every second
being diverted to his groin, and her hands were exploring his back, groping-- "Abbey," he
managed to say on an explosive breath. "Yeah?" She
looked up at him, pausing; she'd been nibbling on his earlobe, a sensation
that was doing wonders for his state of arousal. His voice sounded strange,
hoarse, even to him. His mind raced. "Uh,
maybe we should go sit down." "All right."
She took his hand, led him over to the bed; he tucked one leg under the other
as he sat, leaning against the headboard, to face her. She easily sat in the
triangle formed between his knee and the other leg, resting her hands on his
calves. He took a deep breath,
composing his thoughts for a moment. Then he looked at her, watching her
face, dim in the darkened room. "Are you... um... are you sure about
this?" "What do you
mean?" she asked, managing to sound almost innocent. "Look," he
said, "if you keep kissing me like that, I'm going to think that you're
not going to want to stop." "I don't," she
replied. Her eyes were serious now, her face clear and determined. "I
thought about it, what might happen, and I'm... I'm okay with it." "'Okay with
it'?" he quoted back. "You don't sound enthusiastic." "No, I am, believe
me." Her fingers curled around his lower leg, the one pressed to the
bed; he felt the electric touch as they caressed the calf muscle. "I
just... it occurred to me today that this is something I like, being with
you, and it's something I want to grab onto and hold for as long as I
can." "You're sure?"
he said, feeling the need to confirm it. It wasn't that he wasn't happy about
it -- if anything, he wanted to jump up and down and shout, or start kissing
her all over again and damn the consequences -- but her attitude was so
changed, so quickly, that he would have guessed her to be drunk had he not
witnessed her drinking water all night. "I'm very
sure." Abbey got to her knees, pushed his legs apart, and moved in
between them, planting her hands on the headboard, one on either side of him.
Her eyes still bore that sultry gaze, but there was also a winsome look in
them, and maybe even a little bit of fear. That was what got to him, more
than anything else; she was still scared, after all this time, that he might
reject her. Without further thought,
he put his arms around her and kissed her. |