360

Saturday evening

"Thanks for everything," I hugged Aunt Claire tightly as Taylor grabbed our suitcases out the back of her truck and piled them onto the sidewalk near our feet.

"You're welcome," she released me and opened her arms to Taylor, who returned the hug.

"You were wonderful," she planted a kiss on his cheek, tears surprisingly welling up in her eyes. I couldn't agree with her more, smiling at my boyfriend.

"Yeah, you put the entire funeral home in tears." I reminded him with a grin.

"You just remember what I said, young lady," Claire shook her index finger menacingly at me. I didn't know if she was kidding or not, so I simply smiled tightly and tried not to kill myself as I stepped backward onto the sidewalk. Taylor threw me a confused look, leading me to believe an uncomfortable conversation was in our future.

"Thanks again," he waved to his Aunt as she climbed into her truck and roared it to life.

"Take care of each other!" She called, before taking off. Taylor and I watched her travel a few blocks, then a few seconds later she turned, disappearing from sight.

"What the hell was that all about?" I asked him.

"I was hoping you could answer that," he replied, picking up his suitcase with a groan and welcomed change of subject. "Aunts are great, but they always give too much food. My suitcase feels like it weighs a ton with all the leftover food from the reception."

"Not necessarily a problem," I grinned at him, picking up mine and bumping his shoulder with mine.

"I'm surprised you didn't ask me for something on the trip down here," he rolled his eyes and started walking down the sidewalk.

"I could use a little snack..." I smiled, glancing through the windows of a bagel shop with interest as we passed it. "Where are we headed anyways?"

"Sorry, it's a surprise." He smiled smugly.

"Damnit, you know I hate when you do that." I playfully scowled at him.

"I know."

"Can I at least have a hint?" I asked as we waited on a corner.

"Nope," Taylor replied as the traffic light changed and headed through the intersection.

"You suck," was all I could mumble in response as I followed behind him.

"Now that's a good attitude," he glanced back at me, still offering that smug smile.

"Better now that I'm not getting interrogated by your Aunt," I replied sarcastically. He stopped quickly, causing me to bump into him.

"Hey - don't stop!" I glanced at the stragglers of pedestrians waiting to run us over. "What gives?"

"What did she say to you?" He turned and asked me, setting down his suitcase.

"Can we talk about it later, please?" I sighed, shifting my weight underneath my bulky suitcase. "At least until we get wherever the hell we're going."

"We're here," he grinned widely, pointing with his index finger for me to look up. "I didn't say we were going very far."

"Taylor!" I gasped at a beautiful Victorian-style hotel. It was at least twenty stories tall, with beautifully carved architectural details. It didn't take much to figure that this place was also expensive.

"The Royal York?" I read the gilded golden words off the front doors. "Can we afford to stay here?"

"Of course, Mags," he scoffed, reaching over and fluffing my hair lightly. "We're in Canada, babe. Everything is like a thirty-five percent discount."

"Well, we don't have to stay here." I replied, flattening my hair and refusing to budge on the spot. "Isn't there some Motel 6 near the airport that's closer to our standards?"

"C'mon cheap-skate," Taylor nudged my back towards the front doors, which were still being held open to us by bell men dressed in crisp maroon uniforms.

"Thank you," I offered to them, my mouth dropping open at the two-story lobby. Large marble columns lined a matching marble staircase. p>

Wow.

"You're welcome, miss," the man offered. "Welcome back to the Royal York, Mr. Hanson."

"Reservation under Hanson," Taylor offered to the woman at the Reservations Desk.

"Ahh, yes. Welcome back sir." The girl frowned, her fingernails clicking away at the keyboard in front of her. "I'm afraid there's a bit of a problem."

Welcome back? Second time we'd heard that since taking about ten steps into the hotel.

"No problem, we can just stay somewhere else." Taylor frowned at my suggestion.

"Shh," he nudged my shoulder.

"I'm terribly sorry, Mister Hanson." She continued, glancing at the screen below her. "Unfortunately, we've double-booked your room."

"Double-booked?" "You picked a specific room?" Taylor and I spoke at the same time, but not to the same person.

"Yes, hold on, Ms. Impatient." He replied to me, then smiled at the girl. "Is there anything you can do for us.. Miss.. Taylor?"

Oh here we go, I rolled my eyes. The infamous Hansen charm.. should I take notes?

"Yes, of course, Mister Hanson," she smiled brightly at him. "The only upgrade from your room that's still open is a honeymoon suite. Will that be all right?"

"Honeymoon suite!?" I squeaked as Taylor's eyebrows shot up. He clamped his hand over my mouth.

"That'll be fine, thank you." I stared incredulously at how calm he was.

What the hell does he think he's doing?

"What the hell do you think you're doing!?" I asked him as we waited for an elevator.

"Shh, you're making a scene," Taylor glanced at me, his cheeks turning pink.

"Not the first time this trip," I pointed out. "Which you said a few days ago you were fine with."

"Oh, come on Maggie." He turned toward me with an exasperated sigh. "Haven't you always wanted to stay in a honeymoon suite?"

"Sure.. on my honeymoon." I made a face as a ping interrupted our discussion.

"Which floor, sir?"

Geez, they even have an elevator operator? I felt very sorry for this man, he must have a horrendously boring job.

"Fifteen," Taylor replied as we piled in behind him, receiving a knowing look from the man.

"Very nice," he obliged, pushing button '15.' "You'll be very happy there, sir."

"Let's hope so," I stuck my tongue out at the back of Taylor's head at his response.

"There is no way in hell we're staying here!" I cried indignantly as Taylor held the door open for me.

"Why not?" He casually sauntered into the room behind me. "I think it's nice."

"It's absolutely beautiful," I swept my hand around the room, from a four-poster king-sized bed. The entire room was decorated in various shades of greens and purples: thick velvet shades hung over enormous windows that shared an incredible view of Lake Michigan. The same plush fabric apolstered the three and two-seat couches in our room's "sitting area," as well as accent pillows on our enormous bed. The only odd thing was the walls: they were completely mirrored around the bed, and after I guessed why, I figured it wouldn't be worth it to point it out to Taylor. The last thing the sexually repressed boy needed was any crazy ideas.

"Then what's not to like?" Dropping his suitcase by a nearby table, Taylor explored the other half of our suite.

"Taylor.. this is very..." As I searched for a better word than 'inappropriate,' he interrupted me.

"Mags! You have to see this bathroom. You could fit about five people in the tub. And there's mirrors everywhere.. hmm, good idea."

"Big surprise," I muttered. "And I can live without seeing every fat dimple in my butt before I shower, thanks. We are not staying here."

"Why not?" He popped his head out of the bathroom with a pout.

"Because we can't." I repeated. I groaned inwardly as his pout deepened.

"Why not?" Launching himself stomach-down onto the bed, he called, "Try it, this is great."

"Taylor..." I relented, walking over to the bed. Pushing my hand into the soft, plush comforter, even I could admit:

"This is.. really nice."

"Told you so!" I squealed as he grabbed both my wrists and pulled me onto the bed with him.

"Hey," I tried to wriggle my hands free as he pinned me down. "That's not fair."

"What?" He asked innocently, laughing as he climbed over me. "Afraid that you're not in control?"

"Absolutely, thanks for asking," I laughed.

"Hmm.. then how do you feel... now!?" He charged, dropping my hands and tickling my sides with his fingers.

"Taylor, no!" I begged between giggles. "Please -stop it, I can't-

"Say we can stay here tonight," he continued, poking me in the ribs. "And I'll stop."

"Ok - just stop!" I said, gasping for air. "Uncle."

"Don't call me Uncle," He stared down at me. "I've seen how you treat my Aunts."

"A little below the belt, Taylor," I sent him a warning look.

"We'll get to that later too," he teased.

"Yeah right. It's all I can do to keep myself from ripping off all my clothes and surrenduring myself completely to you, you absolute Sex God" I scoffed. "Just no more tickling, I can't take that."

"About time you starting noticing," At least he finally released me. "Just one of your many weaknesses, another of which you just can't keep your hands off me."

"As long as you don't exploit them," I joked sitting up on my elbows. "That's not fair, you know my weakness, but I don't know yours."

"I figured it's pretty obvious." Serious this time, he blurted out suddenly, staring into my eyes. I practically melted on the spot.

"Aww, Taylor.. That's so sweet," I leaned over and gave him a small kiss. Just as I was about to break away, his warm hand wrapped around my back, holding me against him. Not two seconds after I deepened the kiss did my stomach growl loudly.

"Apparently not sweet enough," Taylor sighed, giving me a tortured look. "I'll take it my little garbage disposal is empty."

"Sorry, but when you have to eat," I patted my stomach as it growled again. "You have to eat."

"At least I planned for that.." He muttered, sliding off the bed. As I watched him, I couldn't help but wonder what else he had up his sleeve.

"We're here!" Taylor whispered into my ears. "Open your eyes."

"About time," I muttered. "I'm freezing my ass off."

"Not very appreciative are you Maggie?"

"The.. CN Tower?" I blinked in confusion at the downtown landmark. "You wanted me to get dressed up to be a tourist?"

"No, stupid." He rolled his eyes. "We're here for dinner, since someone just had to eat."

"There's food here?" I asked skeptically, glancing up at the tower.

"Yes!" He replied sarcastically. "And it's even in a restaurant. The nicest one in town, in fact."

"Wow, Taylor-" I glanced at him and grabbed his hand with my cold fingers. "You didn't have to bring me here."

"Well, someone's worth it.. Come here." He opened his arms.

"Gladly," I wrapped my arms around him as he graced a light kiss on the top of my head. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

A few seconds later, Taylor and I found ourselves pinned to the wall of a tiny glass elevator as it ascended up to the restaurant, leaving the entire city of Toronto beneath our feet. We stopped at a revolving restaurant, giving us a 360-degree view. I gasped as the doors opened, for the entire city lit up beautifully in lights around us. Intimate two-person tables circled around the centrally located kitchen while soft, romantic piano music played in the background.

"This way, please." The maitre-de lead us to an empty table. I smiled as Taylor helped me with my chair, ramming it slightly into my backside, and blushed when I saw him smiling across from me.

"What?" He asked knowingly. I just shook my head.

"I just can't believe all this.." I confessed, reaching for my menu. ".. you."

"What about me?" This time he asked with feign innocence, taking the menu out of my hand and placing it back on the table. "I've already ordered."

"When did you do that?"

"When you spent twenty fricken' minutes in the bathroom getting ready," he grinned.

"Well, sorree," I rolled my eyes. "Now you know why I don't get dressed up too often."

"You look beautiful, Maggie." Taylor said softly, taking both my hands in his. "It was well worth the wait."

"Nah," I returned his smile with one of my own, then glanced absently out the window on my left, suddenly feeling shy. Fortunately, our waiter interrupted our awkward silence.

"Welcome, Mr. and Mrs. Hanson. I am Manuel, and I'll be your waiter this evening. We have your special requests all prepared Mr. Hanson. Here is your wine."

"Our what?" I stared across the table at Taylor as Manuel placed a first a tin filled with ice to Taylor's left, then two glasses of wine in front of the both of us, leaving the bottle in a tin. After placing a plate of bread on the table between us, Manuel bowed out, literally.

"Taylor," I whispered harshly at him. "We're not old enough to drink!"

"We are in Canada. Nineteen is the legal drinking age," I did not like the devious grin he gave me. Not one bit.

"Relax Maggie, we're here to celebrate. I just wanted it to be nice." He lifted his glass in his hand, then handed me mine. I hesitantly took the glass, clinked it against his, then stared at the dark, red liquid in my hand, then the rest of the wine remaining in the bottle.

A glass of champagne at Sarah and Ike's wedding is one thing, but a whole bottle? I thought, glancing away at the twinkling lights of Toronto below us. After one glance back at Taylor's smiling face, I meekly raised my glass to my mouth and sniffed lightly. A sweet, dry smell filled my nose.

He did go through all this trouble. Not wanting to seem completely ungrateful, I took a tiny sip. However, also not one for alcohol, it actually didn't taste as bad as I'd thought it would. Kinda fruity, if the fruit had been pulverized to the point of becoming a liquid.

"Hmm..." I glanced at Taylor, lowering my glass.

"Do you like it?" He asked, taking a sip of his own, then making a face. "Wow, that's.. sweet."

"I.. kind of like it." I smiled. "Thank you."

"Well, drink up." He returned my smile, then glanced at the wine bottle next to him. "You might be having more than me, or I'll be pretty loopy. Geez, there's eighteen percent alcohol in there!"

"Taylor Hanson," I shot him a dirty look, taking another tiny sip. "Are you trying to get me drunk?"

"Of course not," he replied, giving me a thousand-watt smile of innocence. Well, sorry to ruin the ending, but we didn't end up getting sloppy-silly drunk as the meal progressed and wine level in the bottle decreased. We also ended up not finishing it, for another reason, but I will admit to feeling a bit light-headed by the time Taylor hastily signed for the bill. Grabbing my hand, my head spinned slightly, the lights below us dancing magically as we floated back to the ground in the glass elevator.

There was something else.. I couldn't describe it, but a very different feeling inside me. It sparked my attention first when Taylor had started dissecting his steak, something about the way his fingers moved his shiny, silver utensils across his food. It was very distracting, especially when he started putting the food in his mouth.

"Are you all right?" He'd asked me at one point, stopping with a forkful of food in mid-air.

"Sure," I swallowed lightly. "Why?"

"You're not eating very much." He pointed at my near-full plate with his fork. "Is it ok?"

"Yeah..." I stared at him, mesmerized as his lips closed around his fork, pursing as he pulled it out. "It's.. absolutely delicious."

"Good. I can't believe I'm saying this to you, but eat up."

What the heck is going on? And why can't I stop staring at Taylor? Shifting uncomfortably in my seat, I crossed my legs. Shaking my head, I snapped out of it and helped myself to another bite of my salmon. Slowly sliding a bit of the tender, orange fish off my own fork with the tip of my tongue, I suddenly found Taylor staring at me strangely.

"What?" I asked him.

"Nothing," he replied with a grin. "I've just never seen you not inhale food before. It's quite sexy."

I didn't reply to that, just merely half-smiled. Although he'd meant the word as a joke, for some reason I became very aware of how we'd gotten the upgraded hotel room, how he'd been to assure his Aunt to let us stay downtown by ourselves, how he'd convinced me to wear a dress the end of November in Canada: I had one earth-shatteringly attractive boyfriend. Everything feature of his was attractive, even those size fourteen feet. Even now, even just the casual way a few stray locks of dusty-blonde hair fell across his forehead as he chewed quietly, how the candlelight from our table highlighted his cheeks, everything was driving me.. well, nuts.

"What?" It was his turn to ask, those eyes glancing at me. Butterflies flapped in my stomach as I watched the reflection of the flame dance in his dark pupils.

"Nothing," I gave him the same teasing response he'd offered earlier.

"No seriously, are you feeling all right? You're starting to creep me out." He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Taylor," I gestured for him to lean closer. He obliged, nearly dipping his tie into his steak.

His tie.. Staring at it for a few seconds, I clenched my fingers into fists, fighting the urge to loosen the knot resting at the nape of his neck. Biting my lower lip, I slid my left foot out of its shoe and felt around for his leg. Unfortunately, in my haste, I ended up nicking the inside of his right ankle.

"Oww," He winced, leaning back in his seat to nurse his ankle. "You wanted to kick me?"

"Oh, forget it." I muttered to myself, setting my napkin on the table and stuffing my foot back into its shoe.

Guess I'll have to take the direct approach.

"You're acting very strange," I barely heard him say as I gestured for him to lean forward again. "Are you ok, Maggie?"

If he says my name like that again, I don't know if I can control myself. A strange trembling sensation washed over me as I stared deeply into those deep, pretty eyes and exhaled deeply. Either my cheeks blushed from embarrassment, or it was also getting quite warm in here.

"Taylor, I'm just going to come right out and say it." I waved my fingers at him to lean forward again.

"Please do," He threw me a terribly confused look, but at least he obliged.

"I want you." I whispered hoarsely, my cheeks burning.

"You want what?" He leaned further forward, nearly flattening his mashed potatoes. "I didn't hear you, Maggie."

"Taylor," my eyes pleaded silently with him. Perching on the very edge of my seat, my fingers gripped the edge in frustration before I succumbed, grabbing his shirt collar roughly. Turning his head with my hands, I whispered in his ear:

"Taylor, I want you."

"What do you want me to do?" He asked, blinking in confusion. Not that I could blame him; I had no idea where this feeling came from, I just knew I had to do something about it. Now.

"No.. I want you." I gave him a knowing look, softly tracing a line from his jaw, down his neck, to that damned tie knot. If we didn't do something soon, I'd end up hanging myself with it.

"Oh - you mean-" His mouth dropped open so wide I was surprised it didn't hit the table. It didn't take long before it was replaced with a smile though.

"Manuel, check please!"