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*********************** The Only Girl: Chapter Six ************************



“How are you doing?”  I look up with only the faintest trace of surprise as AJ comes into 
my home and sits himself down on my sofa with me.  Surprise because he didn’t knock.  Mild 
surprise only because, well its AJ.  We’ve been over this.  AJ is special, “special”.  

Why do I want “special”?  I mean sure he’s hot but so are a lot of other men.  Not men 
that I see and talk to on a regular basis but they’re there, or so I hear.  And lots of 
other guys have tattoos, that’s hardly a feature that comes solely in the AJ McLean model.  
Besides, I’m hardly the catch of the day.  And he’s already caught me once.  AJ’s like a 
little kid; he likes to taste every flavor of ice cream once and well, I’ve already been 
licked.  

“How am I doing with what Aje, the fact that my father’s dead, that Nick offered me a 
night of comfort in his arms and I sent him home to Tiffany, that Kevin isn’t talking to 
me because I told him me and you slept together, or that fact that I would kill for a 
drink and cigarette?”

He winces and takes off his sunglasses.  “You don’t drink anymore, member Corrie, and you 
sure as hell don’t smoke.”  

I glare at him grumpily and sink deeper into the cushions, drawing my blanket up to my 
chin in a gesture of vulnerability and unhappiness.  “Well I’m freaking thinking of 
starting.”  I stare at his soft brown eyes.  “I didn’t think it was still a secret that we 
were together once.  I mean, you and I joke about it all the time, I just thought you 
would have told them ya know?”

AJ shifts nervously and I wonder at it briefly.  AJ doesn’t fidget, not unless he has 
something to hide or its something he really cares about.  Otherwise he just doesn’t 
bother enough to be nervous and worked up.  “It wasn’t my place to tell them Corrie.  It 
was your choice.”  

“Oh.”  

I’m shocked and I’m not exactly sure why.  There’s no real reason to assume that Aje would 
have gone and blabbed, but I never assumed any different.  I don’t why the fact that he 
didn’t means so much to me when I would have said it meant nothing at all not ten seconds 
ago.

“Want a way to make yourself feel better?”

I raise dark brows as gray eyes narrow in suspicion.  “If it involves blind folds or 
handcuffs, no.”  

AJ laughs heartily and ruffles my hair absently.  “I wish, but you see there’s this party 
and I need someone to go with me…”

“Do you always have an ulterior motive?” I demand, trying to be angry but failing 
miserably.  Damn Alexander McLean for being cute and almost irresistible.  

“Come on Corrie, please, its one of those stuffy inter label parties and I HATE those.”  

I sigh.  “You forget sweetie, I’ve been to my share and I hate them more than you do.  
Besides, it’d look bad for you to show up with Nick’s cast offs.”  

“You’re not a cast off!”  

I jump at the intensity and sudden fierceness in AJ’s declaration and smile lopsidedly at 
him.  “Aje…” I start, thoroughly ready to dissuade him of his opinion but he stops me with 
swift fingers on my lips.  

“Hush Corrie.  I know you think you’re plain and ordinary and unwanted but you’re not.  
You’re unique and vibrant and so damn alive it makes me feel hollow sometimes.  You light
up a room every time you enter it.  You held Nick’s fickle attention for five years and 
even now he still misses you.  You’re an amazing person in every single way imaginable.  
And you may not agree with me, and you may shrug this off, but in my mind you’re nothing 
but special.  That may not mean anything to you but it sure as hell means something to 
me.”

Woah, where the hell did all THAT come from?  Not that I mind, I’m just not used to AJ 
spilling his guts to anyone, let alone me.  Should I feel privledged or just weirded out?  
I’m not sure.  

We stare quietly at each other for a long minute before I curse roundly.  “Are any of the 
others going to be at the damn party?”

AJ beams at me like I’ve just given him the world.  “Just me Corrie, it’s a one boy 
event.”  

I glower.  “What’s the dress code, concert or nicer?”  

He chuckles.  “Who’s definition of concert attire, yours or the rest of the girlfriends 
and wives?”  

I swat him as I blush.  Management usually expects all girlfriends and wives to make a 
nice showing at the boys’ concerts.  That meant dresses, expensive slacks, and sparkly, 
tight fitting tops.  I stuck with that rule for about a year before shrugging and going in 
flannel and old jeans.  The boys were always amused, especially AJ who loved any flaunting 
of authority, while management was less than thrilled.

I always said screw em.  They didn’t have to wiggle into the damn panty hose.

“Their definition.”  

AJ thinks for a minute. “Probably nicer than concert, but not by much.”  

I sigh deeply.  “You SO owe me for this.”  

He laughs and hugs me in a swift movement that leaves me exasperated and strangely 
breathless.  Damn AJ McLean.  “Go get dressed baby…”

“Don’t push it…” 

******************************************************************************

I scan the crowd of hopeful stars and people who have already made it big.  It’s the usual 
mix of decadence, innocence, and corruption that I’ve become too familiar with over the 
years.  I’m looking for Corrie because I haven’t seen her since I got dragged away from 
her to go smooze with some big names in management.  

Not that she’s hard to miss.  She stands out I any crowd but I nearly had a heart attack 
when she stepped out of her bedroom dressed in a silver, elegant, slinky, clinging number 
that hugged her curves and brought out the beautiful gray of her eyes.  

She’d let her hair grow out since she broke up with Nick and I had never quite realized 
how long it had gotten until I saw it down in a dark sable cloud that went half way past 
her back.  

Corrie had even begrudgingly applied some make up, just enough to add color to her lips 
and dark smokiness to her eyes.  It took more than a bit of my willpower not to make a 
move on her on the way over in the car.  Every time I touch her its like brushing fire.

God, I want to burn sometimes.  

I catch a glimpse of dark curls and slip through the glittering bodies before stopping 
dead in my tracks at the sight of Corinne Mattley chatting it up with… with Marshall 
freaking Mathers.  Slim Shady.  Eminem.  

My jaw couldn’t drop any further without relocating itself.  And oh, is that jealousy I 
feel?  Nick was bad enough but Eminem?!  Is she freaking nuts?

I slid up behind her and wrap an arm around her waist, smiling when she jumps and nodding 
stiffly, though cordially, to the rapper.  “Hay sweetie…”

Corrie snorts.  “Don’t sweetie me AJ McLean.  You think I’m having fun at this god damn 
party and then you let yourself get cornered into talking with the stupid management 
people who all have thirteen year old daughters dying to meet you and sign their diaries 
and kiss their hands?  Huh?!”  

“I don’t know Corinne, you looked like you were having a grand time.”  

I see Eminem’s eyes flare and narrow with annoyance.  He starts to say something but 
Corrie beats him to the punch so to speak as she whirls out of my grasp and stands away 
from me, hands on hips, foot impatiently tapping.

“AJ, honey, let me ask you this…  Are we dating?”  

I glare at her for a long minute before answering.  “No.”

“When I was dating Nicky did I let HIM tell me who to talk and not talk to?”

The second no is sullen even to my ears.  “No.”

“Do you agree that you’re acting like a jealous over protective friend who needs to step 
away before I get angry with him?”

“But Corrie…”

“NO buts McLean.  I came, you left, I’m socializing.”

“But Corrie its Eminem!”

“And you’re a Backstreet Boy.”  

My glare is frigid now.  “You suck.”

“Not lately…”  She kisses me on the cheek and shoves me away before I can register the 
pert answer and wink.  Jesus, now I’m the one who needs a drink and a smoke…