Prologue

The soft blues twang of Muddy Waters fill the white rented pick-up truck as it rumbles down the Queen Elizabeth Highway, passing a large wooden sign that reads “Welcome to Banff”. The September air is crisp, not a cloud in sight, revealing a stark contrast between the bright blue sky and the turning leaves of early fall. The mountains hovered against the horizon, creating a breathtaking scenic view that was beautiful and melancholy at the same time. The young man in the passenger’s seat takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. Yes, of course he would think that being surrounded by beautiful mountains was a tragic thing. Among other things in his life. His thoughts are interrupted by his friend in the driver’s seat. “Brian, are you absolutely sure about this?”

He looks up; ocean blue eyes meeting crystal blue and nodded curtly. “For the thousandth time Nick, yes,” he replies, a tinge of annoyance in his voice. He ignores the younger man’s grumblings and stares out the window as they pull up to a cozy looking cottage; nestled deep in the small town of Banff, Alberta. Away from prying eyes. Away from his troubled life. Away from anyone he could possibly hurt. Squaring his shoulders, Brian pushed the truck door open and stepped out into the chilly autumn breeze. He pulled up the collar of his bomber jacket and squinted up at the house as Nick stepped up beside him.

“You’re crazy, you know that?” the younger man said, staring at his friend in aggravation. “I can’t believe you’re actually doing this.”

He couldn’t believe so either. But he was sure of this, more than anything in his life. Taking a deep breath, he walked up the sidewalk to the front door of his new home.

“Bronx c’mon! We gotta get going!” I call, holding the back door of the house open with one hand while the other shielded my eyes from the bright autumn morning sun.

Though the air had a slight chill, it was a beautiful day outside. I was definitely planning to squeeze out the last of this weather before the typical Canadian winter arrived. Four furry legs comes padding across the field, jumps up the porch steps, and slides through the kitchen, leaving large muddy paw prints on the linoleum.

“Ugh, Bronx!” I grumble and grab a roll of paper towel. As I bend down to wipe up the mess, a sloppy wet German Sheppard tongue slapped across my face and I fall back onto my behind. I sigh and grabbed Bronx’s jaw. “You know, I could get rid of you.” I’m met with a disgruntled bark and I laugh, giving him a quick pet on the head.

-

I breathe in the fresh mountain air as I step out onto the front porch, taking a firm grip of Bronx’s leash around my hand. Two years of living here and I don’t think I will ever tire of the serene feeling I get seeing the mountains every day. It makes me feel alive and ready to start the day with a big cheesy smile on my face.

“Ready?” I grin down at Bronx and he looks up at me, his wet sloppy tongue sticking out of his mouth.

Hoisting my backpack over my shoulder, we take off at a run toward Banff’s city center. The long weekend has the town buzzing with tourists and city slickers weaving in and out of the various gift shops. Couples walking through the streets hand in hand sipping on a cup of Starbucks, families taking pictures in front of life-sized stuffed bears situated outside of store doors, and kids eagerly clutching bags of freshly made fudge. The atmosphere was alive with excitement. Bronx and I weave through the crowd with ease, having been used to groups of tourists by now. We stop in front of Evelyn’s Coffee Bar and I quickly loop the end of Bronx’s leash around a pole. I step into the quaint, cozy coffee shop and was met by Mariah, the enthusiastic barista who spends her summers working in Banff while staying with her grandparents at their cottage.

“London!” she squeals. I give her a warm smile as she hands me my usual; a green tea soy latte with a chocolate croissant.

“Hey Mariah,” I greet, handing her a five and some change. “Aren’t you supposed to be back in Calgary for school?”

“Yeah, but I decided to pick up some shifts for the long weekend before I fully delve back into my books,” she replies, rolling her eyes. “So, my cousin is in town for the winter and he just got a job as a ski instructor!” I raise a speculating eyebrow at her, taking a quick sip of my latte. I automatically knew where this was going. “… and you know, he’s not half bad looking-“

I groan. “Are you still on that? Goodbye, Mariah!” I call behind my shoulder, quickly grabbing the bag containing the croissant and head out the door.

“One day, London, one day!” I hear her yell out after me and I can’t help but giggle as I unloop Bronx’s leash.

By the time I arrive at the Banff National Park office, I’ve worked up a good sweat despite the chill in the air. “Bout time London,” a booming voice exclaims, one that can belong to nobody else but my boss. He’s a tall, muscular guy in his early 40’s; his excellent physique could be credited to the fact that he’s been working for Banff National Park activities sector since he was in college. He grins at me, pearly white teeth set against a dark tan.

“It’s September Mark, shouldn’t that orange Hawaiian tan of yours be gone by now?” I tease as I enter my office, the door labeled “London Cartier: Activity Lead”. I take a seat at my desk and bite into my chocolate croissant, firing up my computer.

“You’re just jealous, Snow White,” was his reply as he disappears out of my office and I scowl after him. I glance down at my pale hands and roll my eyes. He comes back not ten seconds later with a piece of paper in his hand, a ball of energy as his usual self. “You know London, you’d think that with the amount of time you spend outdoors and with the scorching summer we just had, you’d be graced with at least a tiny bit of colour by now.”

I frown at him. “I don’t tan, I burn,” I say matter-of-factly. “Hence why I run for the shade.” I log onto my computer as he places the piece of paper onto my desk.

“So, first order of business-“ before he could finish his sentence, he was interrupted by a head of spiky blonde hair poking into my office.

“Your day group is here London,” Jeremy, the recently hired junior tour guide, proclaims and gives me a warm smile.

“Okay, thanks Jeremy. Can you kindly have them sit and read through the brochure?”

“Sure thing. Let me know if you need anything else.” He disappears and Mark turns back to me, a teasing grin on his face.

“Don’t even start,” I mutter, finishing off my chocolate croissant and brushing off my fingers.

“He would fight a mountain lion for you,” Mark says with a knowing chuckle. I give him an exasperated look and motion toward the paper for him to stop fooling around and get started. “Alright, alright. So your day group today, I had to switch it.” He gives me an apologetic smile and continues. “Linda’s still stuck in the city, so I gave her your one o’clock to three to give her some time to get here.” He points to the schedule and I see my name switched to the day group for 10am. “So you’ll be taking care of these guys. It’s the North Calgary basketball team, part of their championship winning was a mountain bike trip and you get the wonderful opportunity to lead a bunch of hormonal adolescents.”

I laugh and shake my head. “How awfully convenient of you, Mark.”

He grins. “I thought you’d be the perfect candidate to handle them. The good news is, after you’re done with this group you’re free to take off for the day.” He takes the paper and looks at me expectantly. “We’ll need to print out waiver forms and the like.”

“Already on it,” I reply as the printer hums to life.

“See London,” he exclaims, turning on his heel and stepping out of my office. “I knew I hired you for a reason.”

Settling down a group of teenage boys is an easier challenge than I thought. The waivers are signed, rules and regulations explained, and they’re now off with Kristen, the equipment manager, to gather their bikes and helmets. I chalked it up to the boys being eager and excited to bike up a mountain, but Mark had a different opinion. “Do you see how they’re hanging on to your every word?” he says with a booming laugh. “London, London, the effect you have on the young ones! They’re quite a catch.”

“That’s disgusting!” I exclaim, making a face at him. I swear Mark is more like a crazy annoying uncle than my boss. “I’m turning twenty-five for crying out loud.” I cringe at how old that sounds.

“Yep, and still on the market,” he replies. As if on cue, Jeremy appears in the main foyer, backpack and helmet in his hands. “Speaking of the devil!” booms Mark and my eyes widen at him. “I’ve asked Jer here to assist you today with the group. Hope you don’t mind.” And with a devilish grin, Mark proceeds back to his office, leaving Jeremy and I to stand awkwardly facing each other.

“So,” he says, swinging his backpack over his shoulder. “Mark said this is good training for me. I’m pretty stoked about it.”

I smile at him, genuinely excited for his first mountain bike tour as an assistant. “I love being up there,” I say as we head towards the back door to the equipment building. “It’s really something else.”

“You have a pretty sweet job,” he replies. I silently agree.

I consider myself very lucky to have landed this position. After graduating with a bachelor’s degree in Environmental Sciences at the University of British Columbia three years ago, I was expecting to spend my days in a science lab testing dirt for septic levels. In fact, I had spent the first year after graduation doing just that. I worked for a lab that mainly had engineering clienteles, and so we were always under tight deadlines to test soil before a new building or bridge was built. I quickly became tired of working 12-hour days, weekends, and basically not having a life. The money was great, but I never found money to be a motivator or my main source of happiness in life. So I set off to steer my career in a different direction. I was applying for every non-lab position that I could, having sent my resume to Banff National Park on a long shot. Mark had called me back the following week, informing me of a new position opening up for an activity leader. I found myself packing up my whole life to move to Banff and taking Bronx with me. It was quite the lifestyle change going from a large and busy city like Vancouver to a small and reserved town like Banff. The first few months were a hard transition, but my new coworkers and the peacefulness of being surrounded by mountains had made it easier. Everyone was so nice and welcoming; they even threw an icebreaker party for me where we played drinking games and charades.

I was trained to fill in the role of doing mountain bike tours in the summer and fall and as a snowboarding instructor during the winter. Luckily, I was born into a family of two brothers and my very active Dad who would always take us mountain biking, camping, hiking, skiing, and snowboarding as kids. My environmental background made me a sure candidate, as a large chunk of the training had to do with survival in a natural environment. During my interview, Mark had been impressed with my exceptional knowledge of which plants were okay to eat, which were poisonous, and how to start a fire in extreme weather conditions. The hardest part was conditioning my body for all of the activity that I was doing on a daily basis. I found myself at the gym doing cardiovascular endurance as well as weight training and yoga. My diet changed from fast food to lean meats and low carbohydrates. I must admit though, I am in the best shape of my life at 24 years old.

I had always been petite, but with no muscular tone in my body whatsoever. My long and thick mane of dark brown hair didn’t help, as it seemed to overpower my small body. Nowadays, I surprise even myself with how much life and energy I have on a daily basis. I guess, with the work I do, it’s absolutely necessary.

“Are you guys all set?” I ask with a big grin on my face to the group of boys who are now excitedly testing out their rented mountain bike gear. I’m met with enthusiastic replies all at once and I can’t help but laugh as I grab my own gear. “Oh by the way,” I motion towards Bronx, who is standing like a guard dog not too far away. “That’s Bronx and he comes with me on every bike tour. He’s trained to navigate our way back in case we get lost, or run for help if any type of emergency happens. So you’re in safe hands.”

“The only hands I’d like to be in, is hers,” I hear one boy say quietly to his friend, but it was loud enough for me to hear. I blink and look over at Jeremy who winks at me knowingly. He had clearly heard too. I groan inwardly. It’s going to be quite a day.

By the end of the bike tour, I am mentally exhausted. Even with Jeremy as my assistant and the basketball team’s head coach with us, it was hard to lead and instruct a group of twenty adolescent boys. Some wanted to go off exploring on their own, a few were treating the mountain bikes like BMXs trying to pop wheelies and tricks, and most of them complained. A lot. By the time the last of the gear were returned and goodbyes and thank-yous were said, I am silently cursing out every teenage boy on the planet. All I want to do at the moment is head home with Bronx and lay in a hot bath of Epsom salts.

“Hey, London!” I hear Jeremy’s voice call behind me and I look back as he catches up with Bronx and I. “I wanted to ask you a question.”

“What’s that?” Oh no. Please, don’t let it be –

“Well, since we’re both off now … I was kinda … sort of wondering if, you know, we could have lunch together?”

Damn it. “Maybe some other time, Jer?” I reply cautiously and immediately feel bad at his crestfallen face. “I mean,” I add quickly. “I’m just so tired after dealing with that day group that I really just want to head home and rest up.”

He nods and gives me a reassuring smile. “No problem, London. Next time.” With that, he heads off into the office building and I let out a sigh of relief.

“Come on, Bronx,” I say quietly to the equally exhausted looking dog beside me. “Let’s head home.”

On the way home, I stop at a grocery store and pick up a few ingredients for dinner tonight, including a nice bottle of white wine. As I’m untying Bronx from a pole near the street curb, the passenger door of a large truck swings open and hits me on my behind, making me lunge forward and nearly falling on top of Bronx. “Hey!” I call out furiously and turn around. I’m met with a pair of striking blue eyes who glances at Bronx and then gives me a pointed look.

“You shouldn’t leave your dog there,” he mutters and his jaw clenches. My mouth opens to reply, but he quickly walks away and into the grocery store I had just come from.

Annoyed, I finish untying Bronx’s leash, muttering to myself. “The nerve of some people nowadays.”

“Hey, you alright?” a gentle voice asks and I look up again to see another pair of blue eyes, this one more of a clear blue. He’s tall, blonde, and particularly handsome. “I’m sorry about my friend there; he can be an ass sometimes.”

“Yeah, tell me about,” I mutter and immediately regret my rudeness toward the asshole’s friend, who was clearly just trying to be polite and apologize.

He nods understandingly. “You have a good day miss,” he says and quickly follows his friend into the grocery store.

I sigh. “Some day it’s been so far.”

I shove the grocery bag into my backpack, take a firm hold of Bronx’s leash, and set off at a run to clear my mind off of the rude encounter with the asshole stranger. By the time I reach my block, my mood has lightened a bit and I’m eager to fix up a hearty lunch and take that much needed relaxing bath. I slow to a stop a few houses before mine when I notice the same large pick-up truck from town parked across the street. I stare at it and, sure enough, the same two guys are unloading bags and suitcases from the back of the truck. The tall blonde immediately notices me and grins, motioning for me to cross the street. His asshole friend is carrying a large box and disappears into the house. Reluctantly, I walk across the street to him; Bronx following close beside me.

“You’re the girl from town,” he says, jumping down from the truck and holding out a hand for me to shake. “I’m Nick.”

I nod, shaking his hand lightly. “London.” I motion towards the brick cottage in front of us. “New neighbours, I’m assuming?”

“Yeah.” He pauses. “Well, not me. My friend Brian over here.” He gestures to the guy with the striking blue eyes who reappears from the house and is now walking towards us. He glances at me, down at Bronx, then jumps onto the back of the truck without a word to pick up another large box. I roll my eyes. How rude. Nick looks at me apologetically. “Listen, I’m sorry about him. He’s just … going through things.”

I nod again, slowly this time. “Yeah well,” I reply pointedly. “We’re all going through things. It was nice meeting you, Nick. Tell your assho- your friend, welcome to Banff.” With that, I turn and jog across the street to my house with Bronx at my feet. As I do, I feel two pairs of blue eyes staring after me.

“Wow, he is so cute.” I roll my eyes at Linda who is all but crooning at the window. She’s one of my co-leaders from work and who has also become a good friend since I moved to town. Her auburn hair is pulled into a high messy bun, green eyes twinkling and always mischievous.

“A pretty face with no manners whatsoever,” I mumble, draining the spaghetti noodles into the sink.

Nonetheless, I lean back to take a peak too. He’s doing yard work; raking the now falling leaves and shoving them, rather hastily, into large clear plastic bags. I hate to admit it, but the man is quite good looking. I would guess he’s in his mid-to-late twenties, medium build, curly golden brown hair falling across his forehead, strong jaw, and the most impeccable blue eyes I’ve ever seen. I’ve only ever looked into them a few times over the past couple of weeks since he had moved in. Majority of the time, he had given me that same pointed look that annoyed yet intrigued me. I shake my head to get rid of my thoughts. No, he is the most rude, most inconsiderate jerk I’ve ever met.

“Maybe he’s the brooding type,” Linda pipes up, cutting into my thoughts. She jumps off the couch and strolls into the kitchen, reaching for the boiling pan of spaghetti sauce and begins to stir. “You should invite him for dinner.”

I give her a look, followed with a snort. “Not in this lifetime.”

“Maybe he’s one of those guys who seem really hard at first, and then once they open up they’re prince charming.” She grins at me, sprinkling some garlic powder into the sauce. “You never know. London Cartier could be the one to crack open the mysterious, emo stranger and find love once and for all. ”

“Oh, cut it out L!” I giggle, snapping a towel at her and she hops up to avoid it.

“I’m just saying,” she continues, swiftly shutting off the stove and taking the pan off the burner. “Have you even had a decent conversation with the guy?”

“L, I don’t think the guy has any decency to converse with anyone,” I reply, pouring the spaghetti noodles into a big wooden bowl. “I mean, despite the fact that he was such a jerk to me to begin with, I’ve actually tried to say hi like a good neighbour.”

“And?”

“He just… stares. Sometimes he nods. But I’ve never heard him speak since.” I help her pour the spaghetti sauce in with the noodles and she tosses them together as I place the pan into the sink.

“I wonder what his deal is,” she murmurs, and I can tell her mood has gone from playful to genuine curiosity. “I mean, doesn’t that just kind of … irk you in a way? This guy just pops up out of nowhere to live on his own in Banff. He’s supposed to be this famous boy band member, but nobody can speak about it? He doesn’t do much all day, and he’s super quiet.” She pauses and I mull it over. “If he wasn’t so good looking, I’d think he’s a creepy weirdo or something.”

I laugh. “So, just because he’s good looking, famous, rich, and can sing, it automatically cancels out that he could be a potential danger? Mass murderer perhaps?” We both scoop up a pile of the freshly-made spaghetti onto our plates.

“Yep!” she quips and I laugh, shaking my head.

She takes both of our plates to the living room as I grab two bottles of wine glasses and a bottle of white wine. I realize that I hadn’t opened this bottle since I bought it a couple of weeks ago - the same day asshole-jerk-neighbour hit me with his passenger door. I shake my head again and follow her into the living room.

“That doesn’t phase you?” she asks, curling her legs under her on the couch, the plate of spaghetti on her lap as she hits play on the remote. The opening music of The Wedding Planner fills the room and I join her, ready to dig into my food.

“Not one bit,” was my reply before shoving a forkful of spaghetti into my mouth.

As the season turns from fall to winter, the weather slowly begins to drop each day. My days at work have slowed down significantly as mountain biking season ended this month of October. This was usually around the time we transition from spring and summer activities to planning out activity schedules for the winter months. Thankfully, I’m spared from the boring task of scanning ski lift tickets this year and am working full time as a snowboard instructor for kids. It had been my favourite part of the season last year; the kids’ excitement and enthusiasm are so contagious. I was only privileged to teach when more instructors were needed on any given day, so I was ecstatic to learn that I was a full time Activity Lead for snowboarding this year. Also, I have to admit, I was relieved that Jeremy would be off my back as he was assigned to help with equipment rentals. I calculated that, on average, he would ask me out on a date about three or four times a week, in which I would calmly and gently turn him down. He’s a nice guy and everything, but I didn’t feel the attraction there. Of course, Linda and Mark would be on me about it, teasing that I haven’t been on a date since I arrived in Banff. Don’t get me wrong, there are days I do think about being in a relationship and I have dreams of a nice little family one day. But I guess that, after ending an emotionally draining 5 year relationship right before moving to Banff, my priorities have shifted a little.

-

I pull the strings of the hood on my windbreaker tighter as I feel a cold gush of wind lap at my face. I could feel the warmth radiating from Bronx’s body at my side as we jog through the neighborhood. The sun is just setting against the mountainous horizon, creating soft oranges, reds, purples, and pinks against the faded blue of the sky. This is my favourite part of the day; it’s like you can almost feel a sense of peace flooding over the town as families and groups of friends unwind from the day. I check my watch: 6:42. I had been running for almost an hour now and decide it’s time to head back home. As Bronx and I near the house, I notice a familiar figure dressed in grey sweats and a blue hoody striding down the walkway of the brick cottage across from mine. With all intentions of completely ignoring him as I have for the past month, I turn to cross the street when something in his hands catches my eye.

“Hey!” I call out instinctively and he glances up, a look of surprise grazing his face which is quickly replaced by a frown. I walk up to him and motion toward the black garbage bag in his hands. “Is that food?”

His frown deepens. “Yeah…” he replies slowly. “Just taking the garbage out.” I notice a southern twang in his accent that I hadn’t noticed before. But then again, when do I really talk to this guy?

“Did you not read the brochure that all new residents receive when they move here?” I ask, surprised at the rudeness of my voice that I hadn’t intended.

“I had better things to do,” he grumbles and walks past me. I follow.

“Well, if you had read it, you’d know that any garbage containing food goes into the bear-safe garbage bin that was provided with your house.”

He turns to look at me, his eyes narrowed and the same frown on his face. “The what?”

“The bear-safe garbage bin. It’s to keep bears away from the town. It’s an imposed law to put all garbage containing food items in the bin,” I reply matter-of-factly. To my surprise, he rolls his eyes and plumps his garbage bag near the curb.

“It’s garbage day tomorrow morning,” he says matter-of-factly.  “What’s a few hours overnight of leaving this here?” He moves to walk past me, but I step in front of him to stop him. He sighs. “Really? If a bear comes knocking at my door, it’s not your problem.”

That’s it. I’ve had enough. “You don’t get it,” I say harshly and he looks at me, surprised. “Listen, I don’t give two shits if a bear comes knocking at your door and decides to eat you instead. There are kids on this block who walk to school in the morning. We,” I pause to sweep my arms across, motioning at the houses nearby. “all take the proper care and precautions so that we don’t attract wild animals,  not only for the safety of everyone else, but for the bears too. If things go very wrong, they get shot and captured. And all because one idiot decides to leave his bag full of food on the curb because he’s too lazy to get his damn bear-safe bin from his house.”

There’s a pause in which he stares at me, taking in my little outburst. Then he snorts. The nerve!

“So let me get this straight.” He runs his hand across the back of his neck. “You’re concerned about the safety of wild animals, when you live in their natural habitat? When you jog, bike, ski, and whatever else you guys do here, cutting down trees and disturbing their homes just to build resorts for your entertainment? Well, no wonder these bears are so desperate for food to the point that they walk to nice little quant neighborhoods like this one just to dig through garbage. And, if you’ve read your little resident manual, you’d know this is actually unnatural for them to put themselves in danger by being near humans. They’re desperate because their natural habitat is gone! How else are they gonna eat?” He scoffs and turns around to walk back into his house.

By this time, I’m fuming and my hands are balled into fists to keep from slapping him. “Why are you such an asshole?” I call out before I can stop myself. He turns back around and for a long moment, we glare at each other; blue eyes into hazel. I could feel my cheeks flush from anger. “Seriously, you’ve been the biggest asshole since you got here. You didn’t have to move here, and now you’re ranting about the preservation of the environment?” I shake my head. I’ve had enough of this. I grab the garbage bag from the curb, turn on my heel, and march across the street. Bronx had been waiting on the porch the whole time, watching our little encounter with intent.

“What are you doing?” he asks.

“Just because you’re an inconsiderate bastard doesn’t mean I have to sit around and watch you put everyone else in danger,” I half yell, not bothering to turn around. “That includes taking out your damn garbage myself!”

I slam the black bin shut, still fuming from what had just happened. I grab the handle and pull the medium-sized garbage bin onto its wheels, dragging it across my backyard, kicking open the fence door, and pulling it toward the front curb. I look up in time to see him staring out from his front window before quickly pulling the curtains shut. I let out a frustrated sigh, place the bin by the curb, and stalk into my house. It had been a long day, and all I want to do is get Asshole-Neighbour off my mind.

A pair of intense blue eyes are staring at me, the rest of his face in shadow. He’s calling my name but I don’t budge. My dark brown hair is flying around my face from the wind and he reaches out a hand to touch my cheek. His hand is warm … and wet. It wasn’t a gentle touch, but an aggressive one.

“Ugh,” I groan, pulling away from him.

I bolt upright in surprise, bed sheets on the floor, and hair in a tangled mess. Bronx keeps licking my face, giving me a small bark that wakes me and fully connects me to the world. I look at my clock: it’s 8:30. Shit! I have to be at work in 30 minutes. I fly out of bed, almost tripping over the bed sheets on the floor, strip off my clothes in record time, and run into the shower. I’m dressed and ready by 8:45, hastily drying my hair and pulling it into a ponytail. I pour food into Bronx’s bowl, pet his head goodbye, grab an apple on the way and am out the door by 8:50.

By this time, I’ve broken into a full out sprint and spot none other than my favourite new neighbour taking an early morning jog. He’s partially hidden by his blue hoody, but I recognize him right away. I catch his eye for a millisecond before passing him and am momentarily distracted when I see that they’re blood shot and puffy. I feel the flush on my face when I remember the same blue eyes in my dreams last night and run faster, needing to shake my thoughts away.

The day is gloomy, dark clouds beginning to roll in and there was an exceptionally cold bite in the air for October. By the time I get to work, I’m ten minutes late and my cheeks and ears have turned pink from the chill. Linda has a fresh cup of hot chocolate waiting for me and she’s standing at my office door with her eyebrows raised at my flustered appearance.

“What would I do without you, L?” I say, gratefully taking the mug from her.

“Probably have a boyfriend by now,” Mark replies brightly as he passes the both of us in the hallway. I roll my eyes and groan. This is my every day.

Something feels off today. I blamed it on the weather at first, which has turned from dark and gloomy, to light flurries, to full on snowing thick flakes and howling wind by lunchtime. Though usually, I don’t mind the snow. I love the first snowfall of the season; it makes me anticipate the start of winter activities that much more. But today, I feel it in the pit of my stomach. A gut feeling. Even Linda keeps checking up on me every ten minutes. I assure her that I’m fine and concentrate on getting my day-group schedules done for the start of the season.

An hour before work ends, Mark informs us of the impending snowstorm that was just announced on the radio and lets us out early. The snow is coming down hard now and I decide to catch a ride with Linda. “Are you okay London?” she asks for the millionth time that day. I nod my head, but that feeling in my stomach will not go away.

“Yeah,” I reply slowly. “I think I just don’t feel good. I didn’t have the best sleep last night. I just need to get home and rest is all.” Though I know I’m just trying to convince myself because, as we near my house, the gut feeling grows stronger. “I’ll see you tomorrow, L.” I open the door and step out, the snow falling onto my lashes.

“Call me if you need anything!” Linda calls as I close the door behind me.

I wave at her as she drives off and hurry up my porch steps, my heart pounding. What is this feeling? Staring at the doorknob, I frown. Somehow, I don’t remember taking my keys with me. I reach into my backpack and, sure enough, no key. I turn the knob. It’s unlocked. I gasp and push the door open, imagining the worst. I look around. Everything looks normal enough; furniture still intact, all decoration still in place. But there’s something wrong.

“Bronx?” I call out, walking first into the kitchen. Nothing. “Bronx!” A lump forms in my throat and I walk down the hallway to my bedroom. No bark, no paws skittering across the hardwood. “Bronx!”

By now, I could feel the panic set in and I run out the front door, down the steps, and onto the sidewalk, looking frantically around me. I can barely see anything with the snow coming down hard. I squint, hoping to see a familiar silhouette running towards me. Nothing. I feel my breath becoming ragged, turning into mist in front of me. How am I ever going to find him in this weather? This is my fault. I was in such a rush, I didn’t close the door properly.

Just when tears of frustration threatened to spill, I hear a bark and my head shoots in the direction of the familiar sound. A few seconds later, a large German Sheppard comes padding down the street, tail wagging and tongue out. Relief floods over me as my face breaks into a huge grin and I kneel down to hug him.

“Bronx!” I cry out, furiously petting his head and letting him lick my face. “Where have you been boy? I was so worried!” I let out a giggle of relief.

“I found him roaming the streets.”

My eyes dart up and connect with a pair of blue ones standing over me. Oh. I swallow and stand slowly, not taking my eyes off him. He’s in a black Canada Goose jacket, hands shoved in his pockets, hood up, and eyes unreadable.

“He’s a good dog. Obedient.” He nods. My words catch in my throat. “I saw your door open, so I closed it and brought him to my house.” He pauses. “I didn’t want to snoop … or trespass, or anything.” I look down at Bronx and he’s staring up at me, tongue still out and eyes bright. “I didn’t want to leave him there either, in case he tried to break out again.” I look back at him and I feel it in my chest. I’m so grateful. So grateful nothing had happened to Bronx. “Well-“

Without warning, and surprising even myself, I throw my arms around him into a tight hug. I feel him tense but he doesn’t pull away.

“Thank you,” I breathe. “Thank you… Brian.” I pull away and glance at him before looking back down at Bronx, all of a sudden shy at my sudden action. “He means the world to me,” I mumble.

“It’s no problem.” I glance up at him again and he nods before turning on his heel. “You should learn to close your door next time.” With that, he stalks off down the street.

“So he saved your dog and you hugged him in the snowfall?!” Linda squeals and I cringe when she begins to clap her hands. “How romantic!”

I give her an exasperated look. “It wasn’t even like that!” I mumble between bites of my oatmeal. I’m still in my PJs, sitting cross legged on the couch and eating breakfast. The town had called a snow day early in the morning and sent out snowplows to clear the roads. I was glad for the day off, as my mind had been fully consumed with thoughts of Brian all night. I couldn’t shake him. And it was beginning to bother me.

“You have to admit, that was a pretty … genuinely nice gesture of him,” Linda says, beaming at me. “Maybe he’s not so bad after all. Maybe my theory is right.” She stretches out her impeccably toned legs which are clad in black tights underneath a light grey oversized sweater.

“Yeah,” I sigh. “It was and I’m more than grateful. But I’m not about to look too far into it. I appreciate what he did, but it doesn’t change the fact that he’s just a distant, otherwise unfriendly neighbour.” I stand up to put my empty bowl into the sink and Linda follows.

“Well, whatever it is, he is one good looking son of a bitch.” She giggles and I roll my eyes at her. “Well, I’m off. Going to head down to Calgary to see Renald.”

Renald is her boyfriend of three years. He is super outgoing, works as a chef at the Calgary Tower restaurant, and absolutely adores Linda. He’s always trying to convince her to move to the city, but I think Linda is very much attached to Banff. I would give it another couple of years before she caves in and moves out. As for myself, I don’t think I can picture moving out of Banff anytime soon. It’s home - at least for now.

I walk Linda to the door and sigh when I see how thick the snow is on the ground. “Come on, Bronx,” I murmur to my canine friend beside me. “Let’s get shoveling.”

I’m about halfway done shoveling through my walkway, my arms already feeling stiff and my back beginning to ache, when Bronx suddenly lets out a bark and runs across the street. I look up, startled. This wasn’t normal of Bronx to do. I realize that he has gone to greet Brian who is walking down the porch steps of his house. He bends down to pet Bronx and I see a rare grin on his face that I’ve never seen before. My heart does a funny flip. Oh God, get a grip London! I scold myself and take a deep breath. Dropping the shovel, I walk across the street towards them and he looks up at me, eyes squinting against the bright sun.

“Hey,” I greet, trying to sound as cheerful as I can but for some odd reason, I’m extremely nervous and I can feel the flush on my cheeks.

He stands up and gives me a half smile. “Hey,” he replies, shoving his hands in his jacket pockets.

“Listen, I just wanted to thank you again for what you did yesterday,” I start and I feel my cheeks burn hotter. “I mean, it’s not like you had to do something about it, but I really do appreciate the fact that you did.”

He shrugs. “It’s no problem.” There’s a small pause and he bends down to pet Bronx again. “Did you train him yourself?”

I smile as a fond memory enters my mind. “My Dad and I, it was kind of our thing.”

“Really impressive. Smart dog.” Then, as if he just remembered something, he stands up swiftly and shoves his hands back into his pocket. I frown slightly, but decide not to think anything of it.

“Well, thanks again. I don’t know how to even repay you, if ever I could. But…” I pause. “If you like snowboarding, I have access to all ski resorts in the Banff area.” He raises his eyebrows and I somehow feel lame. “Or you know… a cup of sugar or something.”

I could see a hint of a smile on his face now. He’s amused. “I’ll keep that in mind, London.”

That was the first time I’ve ever heard my name come out of his mouth and my stomach does those funny flips again. I turn around, not wanting to make a fool of myself, and head back across the street to finish shoveling. But before I could bend down to grab the shovel on the ground, a hand behind me picks it up and I swivel around, startled.            

“Brian!” I exclaim, my heart quickening. “What are you doing?”

“You took my garbage out for me,” he says matter-of-factly as he digs the shovel into the snow and begins to work his way down the walkway. “Just returning the favour.”

I sit on the couch in front of the fireplace later that night, absentmindedly running a hand over Bronx’s body. I was still trying to grasp what had happened earlier in the day. Brian had shoveled my walkway. That was unexpected. In fact, he not only shoveled my front walkway but the back too, and the sidewalk in front of the house. I had sat on the porch half supervising half playing with Bronx who had been all too happy to see Brian. I must’ve said a million times that he didn’t have to do that for me, but all I got was a quiet reply, just barely audible, “A lady shouldn’t have to break her back when there’s a man right here who’s capable of it.”

Once he had finished, I offered him a drink but he declined. He simply placed the shovel against the side of the house, gave me one last look, turned, and disappeared back into his house before I could thank him. He is so… I couldn’t put my finger on it. One minute, he’s the biggest jerk I’ve ever met and the next, he’s saving my dog and shoveling my walkway. I don’t know who this man is or what he’s about, but there’s something more to him. His kind gestures the past couple of days have opened up a whole new light on him, but there’s something else there. It’s like he puts on a front for the world to think of him as nothing more than the devil’s child. At the same time, I can see a kind heart through the crinkles of his eyes when he smiles. His eyes. They give him away. Deep down, Brian Littrell is really not the Asshole-Neighbour I had labeled him to be. Why come to Banff all the way from southern United States of America, out of reach of fame, attention, or the lavish lifestyle of a celebrity? Why isolate yourself from your family and friends? There’s something that he’s hiding… or maybe someone that he’s hiding from. My heart does that weird flip again and it vibrates down to my stomach when I realize that we may have one thing in common. Perhaps Asshole-Neighbour is really just a kind soul who’s had his heart broken.

By the end of the week, the snow had melted and Alberta is met with unusually warm weather for the end of October. I had grown accustomed to Mother Nature’s unpredictable moods living in this town. My friendship, if you could even call it that, with Brian slowly began to develop though he became more hesitant as it did. Instead of completely ignoring each other as we had, he would nod a greet to me when we happened to pass by each other in the neighborhood. He’d finally taken his bear-safe bin out and I joked about it to him. He had given me a small smile and steered the conversation to Bronx. They’d grown quite fond of each other and, somehow, Bronx ended up in Brian’s care during the day when I went to work.

On the night before Halloween, I got off work early to head to the Rocky Mountain candy shop to buy some fudge. Since moving to Banff, I would buy fudge for the kids and cut them into small pieces, wrap them up in Halloween themed cellophane and hand them out. I love the delighted reactions I received and promised the kids they can expect them every year on Halloween. It was a fairly nice day out with a few scattered clouds. It was warm enough for me to just wear a beige cardigan over black jeans, a light pink pashmina, and black knee high riding boots. I picked up some clear cellophane wrap decorated with little pumpkins, bats, and ghosts and some orange and black ribbon at an arts and crafts store first before heading over to Rocky Mountain. After purchasing a good chunk of cookies n’ cream fudge and maple flavoured fudge, I step out of the shop with my purchases and head homeward bound.

“Hey!” a surprised voice calls out and I turn around to see who it belonged to. Brian. My stomach jumps to my throat, though I ignore it.

“Hi!” I greet, genuinely glad to see him. He’s holding onto Bronx’s leash who is by his side as they walk towards me. “Wow, I think this is the first time I’ve seen you around town.” I bend down to pet Bronx who licks my hand in reply.

“Yeah, I needed to pick up some stuff at the grocery store.” He looks at the bags in my hand. “You’re off work early.”

“Oh! Yeah, I picked up some stuff for tomorrow.” I tell him about my yearly project for Halloween and he smiles that rare smile that always catches me off guard. There’s a pause and I can tell he’s going over a thought in his head.

Finally, he speaks up. “Have you eaten?”

I’m taken back by the question and reply, “No, I was actually going to head home and cook dinner before I start wrapping up the fudge.”

“Wanna grab an early dinner with me?” He grins and it’s so unlike him that I can’t help but grin back.

“Sure. I’m starved!”

We choose a restaurant called Earl’s and are seated right by the window. I’m glad because I can keep an eye on Bronx, whose leash is looped onto a pole just outside. Brian is quiet as he looks over the menu and I look up at him, not sure whether to say anything.

“Thank you for taking care of Bronx while I’m at work,” I finally speak up. “You really don’t have to. He’s usually fine on his own.”

“I enjoy taking care of him,” he replies, glancing at me quickly then back down at the menu. “Besides, it gives me some company.”

Feeling brave, I decide to ask him the question that’s been nagging at me since he moved across the street. “Why don’t you have company? You just decided to live in Banff on your own?”

He doesn’t answer right away. Then, he places the menu down neatly and rests his elbows on the table, his arms outstretched and hands clasped together.

“I don’t really like talking about it,” he says quietly. “But, I just needed to get away from some stuff.”

I nod and place my menu down too. “Fair enough.”

The server comes and takes our order. She is a bumbling mess when she sees Brian and I’m suddenly aware of his celebrity status that I had completely forgotten about. Being recognized everywhere, the attention, fans crying at his feet. I push the thought out of my head. It doesn’t matter and I don’t want to bring it up, appreciating instead that he wants some sort of normalcy and privacy during his stay here.

“What about you?” he asks once our flustered server has left. “You live on your own here too.”

I shrug. “Work.” I don’t like getting into my personal life either.

“So what exactly is it that you do?” His blue eyes are fixed onto mine and I’m momentarily distracted by their intensity. I suddenly feel shy, exposed. Those eyes. His auburn hair falls in small curls across his forehead and his chiseled jaw is strong, tensed.

I swallow and cast my eyes downward to my hands. “Well, from May to October, I do mountain bike tours and, during the winter months, I’m a snowboard instructor.”

“Wow, the outdoorsy type.”

I raise my eyebrows. “I live in Banff.”

A slight laugh escapes his lips and he presses them together as if to stop himself. “Good point.” The server comes back with our drinks; hot water with lemon for me, and an iced tea for him. “How long have you lived here?”

“Two years now,” I reply, swirling the lemon into the hot water with a spoon. “I’m originally from Vancouver.”

“Beautiful city,” he murmurs. “Have you been back since?”

“Christmas holidays, yeah.” I pause and glance up at him, suddenly feeling like I could spill my entire life. “But I have no reason to go back and, frankly, I really don’t want to.”

He frowns. “How come?”

“Ex-boyfriend,” I say quietly and his eyes darken for a fraction of a second.

“I know how that feels.” His voice had gone so quiet that I could barely hear him and I’m pretty sure that comment was meant more for himself than to me. I realize that this is a rare moment, being out with Brian like this and him speaking more than a few sentences at a time. I decide to lighten the mood a little.

“So, exactly how does an ex-boyfriend feel like?”

His eyes shoot up and a small amused smile immediately lights up his face. “Well, from what I recall… feels kind of like when someone lectures you in the middle of the street about a bear-safe bin.”

I open my mouth to say something but my words get caught and I end up in a fit of giggles instead. He stares and his smile expands until he’s laughing with me. Just then, our server comes with our food and the moment is interrupted as she places hot plates in front of us. The smell of steak and potatoes fill my nostrils and my stomach grumbles. I hadn’t realized just how hungry I was and grab a fork to dig in.

“I’m starving!” I exclaim before cutting into the steak.

“You surprise me, London,” was his reply and I look up, not expecting something like that coming from him.

“How?”

He shakes his head and looks down at his food, his smile gone and followed by a frown. “Eat up. The bears you so care about would love that kind of food.” I sigh. And just like that, Asshole-Neighbour is back.

All throughout dinner, Brian’s moods are more unpredictable than the weather. One second, he’s talking and laughing animatedly then the next, he’s frowning and remembering something that seems to be bothering him and he automatically switches back to Jerk Brian. Somehow though, I’m enjoying myself.  A lot. Though he doesn’t talk much about himself, I learn that he’s from Kentucky and grew up in a conservative Christian environment. He doesn’t talk much about his work, only mentions that music is his life. We spend a great deal of time talking about me though, which I found uncomfortable but he had many questions.

When we head back home, the sun is setting beautifully behind the mountains and there’s a moment of peaceful silence as we both soak it in. Brian is holding Bronx’s leash who is walking at a steady pace by his side. This moment feels… perfect, and I don’t want it to end.

“I have my work cut out for me with all this fudge,” I say quietly, hinting. He doesn’t say anything. “Maybe I could use a hand.” Our eyes meet and his are soft, contemplating. Nice Brian is still around.

“I don’t have any other plans for the evening,” he replies and my heart does a leap of joy that I quickly push down, mentally telling myself to chill out. When we reach my house, he patiently waits as I slide the key through the slot and then follows me in. Bronx immediately runs into the kitchen and straight to his water bowl, leaving Brian and I standing in the entryway.

“Well,” I say, slightly sweeping my arms around. “Make yourself at home. I’ll be right back.”

I walk down the hallway toward my bedroom and take a quick glance behind me. It’s strange seeing him in my house. He had taken his shoes off at the entryway and was now looking around the living room, staring at the pictures on top of the mantle. I can see a small smile on his face and my stomach does flips again. Asshole Neighbour… in my house. Who would’ve thought?

I quickly change into a pair of light grey University of British Columbia sweatpants and a navy blue tank top, tie my hair up into a high messy bun, and meet Brian in the living room. He’s still by the fireplace and turns around when he hears my voice.

“Ready?” I ask. He stares at me for a few seconds longer, blinks, and then replies.

“Yeah.”  He follows me into the kitchen where he takes a seat at the dark mahogany table. I place two large bags of fudge in front of him, the cellophane, ribbons, scissors, and a knife. “This is cool. I’ve never done this before.”

I smile as I take two wine glasses out of the cupboards. “It’s pretty time consuming.” I place the glasses on the table along with a fresh bottle of white wine. “I hope you like wine.”

“Wine and fudge,” he murmurs, getting to work on cutting the fudge into small cubes. “How very Banff of you.”

“Brian! You know the fudge is for the kids, right?” I giggle as he pops another cube into his mouth. His reply is a cheesy grin and he refills our wine glasses. We’re about two-thirds through the wine and I can feel my face turning pink from the alcohol.

“This is,” he says in between chewing. “So good.” He takes a sip of wine. “I’m pretty sure I’m on a sugar high while tipsy right now.”

I laugh, feeling the effects of the wine. It’s now past ten o’clock and we’re on the last few cubes of the fudge. It’s taking longer than expected as, halfway through, we had decided we needed a break and went out to walk Bronx and breathe in the night air. The wine made Brian a lot more talkative than he was during dinner and I discover that he has a witty sense of humour. What’s more is that I haven’t seen Asshole Brian since dinner either. I’m thoroughly enjoying his company.

We finish the last of the wine and wrap up the rest of the fudge by 10:30. He checks his watch and stands up abruptly. He sways a little and grips the edge of the table. “I-I’ve gotta go,” he says darkly, not meeting my eye. Oh no. Asshole Neighbour is back.

“Oh, ok.” I hear the tinge of disappointment in my voice and catch it with a smile. I stand up, my head swimming and take a deep breath before walking him to the door. He puts his shoes on and I follow him out to the porch. “Thank you for helping me, Brian.” My voice is quiet, my mind racing. He turns around then and his eyes are soft again; Nice Brian.

“I…” he takes a deep breath. “I actually had a really nice time tonight, London.”

I look up at him, his face softly illuminated by the porch light. It’s dark, but I see the blue of his eyes clear as day. His face is slightly pink, his hair in its usual untidiness. He looks so absolutely… and then it happens. I don’t know if it’s the influence of the alcohol, but in a moment of courage, I break the empty space between us and our lips are on each other’s; hungry, needing, wanting. He groans against my mouth, taking my face in his hands and deepens the kiss. His tongue is hot, sweet from the fudge, and his lips are firm against mine. My arms lace around his neck and my hands find the soft curls at the base. He lets out a soft moan and pulls me closer to him, leaning back against the porch railing. I’m between his legs and his hands move from my face down my body and grabs at my hips. The kiss softens and I feel him sigh against my mouth. He takes my face again, gently this time and breaks the kiss.

“I’m not what you’re looking for, London,” he breathes, looking intently into my eyes. I shake my head, not caring. My head is still swimming from the alcohol. He closes his eyes, and rests his forehead against mine, his hands still holding my face to him. “You… you are so beautiful,” he whispers and I feel like my heart could pound out of my chest. “Since the day I met you-“ He pauses and lets out a breath which is warm against my flushed face. We’re silent for a moment, before he pulls away from me. “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” He opens his eyes and kisses my lips softly, once and then again, not taking his gaze off mine. “Get some rest.” With that, he walks down the porch stairs and jogs across the street.

I watch him disappear into his house, and a light flickers on soon after. I take a deep breath, hugging myself and walk back into my house; my mind reeling and trying to grasp at what had just happened. I throw myself on the bed, a huge grin on my face and touch my lips. I just made out with Asshole-Neighbour. Who would’ve thought?

I groan as the sound of the doorbell wakes me. I turn over, the light hitting my eyes and I squeeze them back shut. My head is pounding. The ringing of the doorbell continues and I let out another frustrated groan as I drag myself out of bed. Who could be at my door so early in the morning? I swear if it’s Linda with her absurdly early morning random wake up visits I will- Oh. “Brian?”

He’s standing on my porch looking drop-dead gorgeous in black jeans, black combat boots, and a white knit sweater with light brown buttons. He holds up a paper bag and two cups of something steaming hot. “Breakfast,” he says with a grin. My heart melts and then I’m suddenly mortified. I must look like a tornado tossed me around right now. As if reading my mind, he adds, “You look beautiful, London.”

I could feel the blush on my face and let him inside. “Be right back,” I breathe and run for the bathroom. I relieve myself and check my face in the mirror. Ugh. I fix my bun, splash water on my face, and gargle some Listerine. Good enough. I walk back into the kitchen where Brian has placed the contents of the bag on plates; whole wheat blueberry bagels with cream cheese, turkey bacon, and scrambled eggs. I check the time and am surprised to see it’s only 7:30.

“How are you up at this time?” I grumble, taking a seat next to him and taking a sip out of the steaming cup. Mmm, french vanilla. “I feel like crap.”

“I knew you would,” he replies and takes something out of his pocket. Advil. I shake my head and smile. Who knew Asshole Neighbour could be so considerate. Then I sit upright.

“Where’s Bronx?”

“I let him out in the backyard while you were in the bathroom.”

My heart melts again. “Thanks.”

We eat breakfast in silence, but a pleasant one. Occasionally, I would glance over at him to see that he was already gazing at me. I would blush furiously and I’d see a hint of a smile on his face. When we finish, he helps me with the dishes and then gives me two Advils to take.

“Brian, thank you,” I say softly. “It seems I’m always thanking you and I haven’t found a way to repay you back for Bronx.”

He shrugs. “Don’t worry about it.” He moves closer to me and my heart skips a beat. “I’ll get Bronx outside. I’ll see you later? After work?” I nod, mesmerized by his baby blues as he leans down, cups my chin, and plants a soft kiss on my lips. With this one simple gesture, I feel all sense of rationality leave me. It’s exciting and frightening at the same time.

I wasn’t planning on telling Linda right away, but the goofy smile plastered on my face all day gives it away. “Ohhhh my God, London!” she squeals and I shush her, not wanting anyone, especially Mark, to hear. Her voice drops to a whisper. “I knew it! I knew it! That rudeness… that was just some sexual tension going on.”

I roll my eyes. “Can you please keep it on the down low? Plus, I don’t even know if it’ll go anywhere. We just kissed is all.”

“Right. Ten bucks says he’ll be professing his love to you by next week.”

“L!” I exclaim, exasperated. “Can you leave me alone? I have work to do.”

But I’m distracted all day with thoughts of Brian. It was hard to concentrate and I find myself smiling like a fool at my computer screen. I have never felt this way in a very long time about anyone. My last relationship had been such a mess that I almost forgot what it feels like to be… well, smitten, I guess you can call it. I keep thinking about his eyes, and the way his hair curls, his laugh that I rarely hear but makes my stomach do flips. And his kindness… all thoughts of Asshole Neighbour has completely left my mind, and I’m focused on his genuine acts of kindness that has me so… so, I don’t know how to explain it. By the end of the day, I’m looking at the time every minute, excited to see Brian again. I feel like a high school girl. This is ridiculous. I shake my head at myself, but my excitement wins over.

When I get home, he’s waiting for me on the porch, Bronx’s head resting on his lap. I can see he’s on his cellphone and from the look of his face I know the conversation is heated and serious. He catches my eye, immediately shuts the phone off, and stands slowly as I reach the walkway. His eyes are dark and his jaw is tight, not the Nice Brian from this morning.

“Hey.” His voice is quiet, low.

“Hi,” I reply, trying to keep my voice positive and steady.

“Listen, I’ve gotta run. I have some stuff to take care of in Calgary.” I can’t help the disappointment that swells in my chest.

“Ok,” I say and lean down to pet Bronx. “Have a safe drive.”

His reply was a small nod and I frown when he walks away, almost sprinting across the street to his house. What was that about? I sigh and walk up the porch steps and into the house. What a difference a few hours can make. But, I guess, that’s mercurial Brian for you.

By dinnertime, the kids in the neighbourhood are out in their costumes and I’m standing by my door handing out the fudge treats. They’re a hit and a few kids come back for seconds. Bronx stands guard at the window, tail wagging and ears alert.

“Bye, Ms. London!” a little girl in a bumblebee costume shouts as she bounds down the walkway.

“See you in snowboarding class, Tanya,” I call back and smile as she waves.

By the end of the night, I still have a bit of fudge left even though I start giving them out by the handfuls. I sit on the couch, chewing on one and waiting to see if any more kids come. My doorbell stays silent and I stand up to turn the porch lights off and turn in for the night. As I do, I see some movement across the street. It’s Brian and he’s walking up his walkway, head down and hood up. He disappears into his house and the main floor light flickers on. Biting my lip, I look at the bowl of fudge and reminisce about last night. Feeling resolved, I take the bowl and head out the door. Bronx stands to alert and watches me from the window as I stroll down the street.

He opens the door on the first ring and a look of surprise crosses his face when he sees me. “London.”

He holds the door open for me and I step in. My eyes graze the entryway and the living room. There’s a large dark brown L-shaped leather couch in front of the fireplace, a big screen TV, and a glass coffee table on top of a white faux-fur rug. Everything looks so cozy; he’s definitely made a home out of the place.

“I had some fudge left over,” I explain and his eyes move to the bowl in my hands. “I know how much you like them, so I brought them over for you.” A look that I can’t place crosses his face and he takes the bowl from me, setting it on a side table near the entryway.

“That’s very nice of you,” he murmurs and I hold my breath as he steps closer to me. “How was it tonight?” he asks, wrapping his arms around my waist. I let my breath go as a sigh of a relief. Nice Brian is back. I breathe in again; he smells musky, sweet, and like ocean scented body wash.

“Good, the kids loved it as usual.”

He looks me in the eye for a few seconds and then captures my lips in his. It’s an aggressive kiss, one that I hadn’t expected but I respond eagerly. His tongue is in my mouth, hungry, longing and his hands are everywhere.

“God, London,” he breathes in between kisses and his mouth moves to my neck. The feeling vibrates to my groin and I let out a soft moan.

Picking me up and wrapping my legs around him, he strides over to the couch where he places me. He’s standing over me now, gazing down, blue eyes burning with desire. He strips his hoody off, throwing it to the floor and leans down to capture my lips again. He’s in a white t-shirt now and I run my hands over his biceps, across his chiseled chest and to his abdomen. He groans in response and deepens the kiss.

Then, before I could grasp what was happening, I feel him tense and then stand bolt upright. A look of confusion replaces the want in my eyes and I look up at him, lost. “Brian?”

“I can’t-“ he runs his hands through his hair. “No, no. Leave, London, I want you to leave.”

What? My heart constricts and I know my eyes give away the hurt from his words. “Brian, what’s wrong?”

He shakes his head. “This is wrong,” he says and grabs his hoody, hastily putting it back on. “You need to leave, London. We cant… us- no this can’t happen.”

What’s up with him? Why the sudden mood change? “Brian, whatever it is, you can tell me-“

“London!” he shouts, frustration and anger etched on his face. “Leave, just go!” My mouth drops open and I gasp. He takes a deep breath and, a bit more calmly, but still with a menacing tone in his voice, he says, “Whatever it is you think you owe me, forget it. I saved your dog, it’s doesn’t matter. I don’t need your payback. I wasn’t even thinking of it, I just thought I needed the company.”

Ouch. That stung. I glare at him for a few seconds; hazel eyes into deep blue. For that one moment, I hate him. I’m hurt and I can feel my face red with humiliation. The lump in my throat is growing and all I can do is nod. With a heavy heart, I turn around, walk out the door, and shut it with a deafening click behind me.

It’s been two weeks since the night I left Brian’s house. I haven’t seen him since. Maybe it was because I was trying my best to avoid him, or maybe it’s because I didn’t care. The first couple of days were bad, I admit. I couldn’t get him off my mind, no matter how many girl nights I had with Linda or how much I tried to occupy myself with work. Then, one night while out at a club with my co-workers, something clicked. I barely know the guy and the little time that I had gotten to know him, I could barely catch up with his changing moods. I was reminded of the mess I had been in when my last relationship ended and I vowed myself to never go down that road again. It was nothing, I had scolded myself. A couple of make out sessions and that was it. I was grateful that no strong feelings or attachments had actually surfaced. It would’ve made it that much harder.

Thankfully, snowboarding season started around mid-November and I put my heart into work. The resorts weren’t busy yet, but it was busy enough for me to keep my mind off of Asshole Neighbour. My days started at 8am when we would all shuttle to the Sunshine Village Ski Resort and ended at 4:30pm. I was with kids all day, and when my schedule wasn’t full, I would do a few runs on my own or join Mark doing hourly check-ups on the ski-dos. The fresh mountain air and the beautiful view helped clear my mind but deep down, I knew I wasn’t fully back to normal. Thoughts of Brian still filled my mind every now and then; and it was mainly concern. What had happened to him? What was so bad that he couldn’t live a normal life? It was the worst when I didn’t have anything to distract me. Years of insecurity would build up in one moment and I would dwell on the thought that maybe I wasn’t good enough, wasn’t appealing enough to him. The thought disgusts me and I’m glad that he had ended things so abruptly before they could start. The insecurities were a huge warning bell going off in my head. He was right; he’s not what I’m looking for.

I sigh as I undo my snowboarding boots from their bindings, frustrated with the thoughts in my head. I hoist my snowboard over my shoulder and walk towards the Sunshine Village lodge. It was snowing lightly, perfect conditions for some good runs on the mountains. I had just finished my last day group with five kids, and it was barely past lunchtime. I place my snowboard on one of the rows of racks and head inside, pulling off my Roxy toque and scarf as I do. I take the stairs to the lounge on the second floor where I see some of the fellow instructors and ski lift workers just sitting down for lunch.

“London!”

I hear Mark’s voice call out and I see him waving at me from a table near the bar. He’s sitting with Linda and a man I don’t recognize. I walk over to them.

“Hey,” I greet everyone with a smile and take a seat, peeling my jacket off and unzipping my red Ski Banff sweater underneath.

“We haven’t ordered yet,” Linda informs me and hands me a menu. I take it from her gratefully, my stomach grumbling.

“London, I’d like you to meet Christian. He’s our new ski instructor from Calgary,” Mark introduces and I look over at the man sitting beside him.

He’s tall and slightly tanned with wavy dark brown hair. I’m momentarily distracted because he greatly resembles Tom Welling from Smallville. He grins pearly whites at me, grey-green eyes shining and extends a hand for me to shake.

“It’s nice to meet you London,” he says in a creamy smooth voice as I shake his hand.

“It’s nice to meet you too,” I reply.

“Christian is joining us for the winter season, then he’s back in the city for the summer months,” Mark informs me and I nod my head.

“How do you like the job so far?” I ask, trying to make small talk.

“I absolutely love it,” he replies, the same big grin still on his face. “I’ve been snowboarding since I was a kid. Dream job.”

“Definitely,” I agree.

“I’m sorry but if you’ll excuse me, I just have to take this call,” Christian says and stands up, fishing his cellphone out of his pockets. We all nod and he disappears, cellphone to ear. I turn to Linda and Mark, my eyebrows raised.

“Wow. He looks like Tom Welling,” I say with a smile on my face. “Quite impressive.”

Both Linda and Mark laugh triumphantly. “Quite,” Linda remarks and I see her wink at Mark who laughs boisterously in return. I shake my head at the both of them and am glad when the server comes to take our order before they could start their teasing.

It’s the end of the day and I’m doing regulatory runs on the ski-do, checking to see if there are any skiers or snowboarders trickling behind. I find a couple and give them a friendly ride down the mountain to the gondola lifts that would take them down to the main lodge. After the last run, I head back to the main lifts and return the ski-do to Jerry, the equipment manager for Sunshine Village. I’m about halfway to the lodge when I hear a voice behind me calling my name. Taking off my snow goggles, I turn around and see Christian running to catch up with me.

“Hey, Christian, how were your classes today?” I ask as we walk to the lodge together.

His face lights up and I can’t help but smile. The Tom Welling resemblance is quite distracting. “Amazing! I love this job!”

“Trust me, after the season ends, you won’t even want to leave.”

“I’m already thinking that,” he laughs and opens the door for me.

“Where are you staying anyway?” I ask as we head upstairs to grab our stuff.

“My grandparents live here,” he replies and we both take a seat on the cafeteria chairs to take our boots and gear off. “My cousin stays with them in the summer to work at that little coffee shop.”

Something clicks in my mind. “Wait, you’re not cousins with Mariah are you?”

He raises his eyebrows. “That’s her. You know her?”

I laugh. “Small world.” I don’t mention the fact she had already tried to hook me up with him even before we met. He turns to me.

“Are you back here tomorrow?”

“No, I’m off for this weekend. Rotation again next weekend,” I reply, folding my snow pants and jacket.

I leave my black tights and red Ski Banff sweater on. With his gear off, Christian is in a tight black Dri-Fit shirt and black work out pants. I can see that his muscles are quite defined. He grins at me and I blink, realizing that he had said something.

“I’m sorry, what?” I blush, realizing that he must’ve caught me looking.

“I said, we should head down before the shuttle leaves us here.”

“Oh! Yeah.” I nod and grab my stuff from the lockers, throwing a pair of black Ugg boots on and shoving my snow pants and jacket in my duffel bag. I feel flustered. I don’t know if it’s because of Christian or because lately I’ve just been feeling off.

“You okay?” he asks, gazing down at me.

“Yeah, it’s just been a long day,” I sigh.

“Well, it’s a good thing you have the weekend off. I’m back here tomorrow,” he says as we head back down to meet the shuttle waiting for all employees.

Already, I’m dreading the weekend. It means no distractions. And with no distractions, it means I’ll be left with my own thoughts.  “Well, to be honest with you…” I pause, glancing up at him. “I’d rather be here.”

-

I shut the passenger door and wave at Linda as she drives away. Throwing my duffel bag over my shoulder, I turn to walk up to the house when something across the street catches my eyes. An unfamiliar grey Mercedes is parked across from Asshole Neighbour’s house and a man is knocking on the door. I look on in curiosity as he continues to knock and then he turns around in frustration. I catch his eye and a look of recognition crosses his face. He jogs down the porch steps and heads across the street towards me. That’s when I recognize him. It’s the tall blonde from the day Brian moved across the street. Nick.

“Hey,” I greet, giving him a warm smile. “What are you doing in this neck of the woods?”

“London,” he replies. He remembers. I can see the look of concern etched across his face and I feel my heart drop just a little. “Have you seen Brian around?”

I swallow. “No.” I say, shaking my head. “Is everything okay?”

He sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “No one’s heard from him in over two weeks,” My heart drops a little more. “We got into an argument over the phone when I told him to come home and, since then, he hasn’t made contact.”

Over two weeks, I calculate in my head. That’s around the time he had yelled at me to leave.

“Sorry, Nick. I haven’t seen him.”

“If you do, London, could you give me a call?” he asks, taking out a card and handing it to me. His name is printed simply on it in bold black lettering: Nickolas Carter with his number underneath. “Please don’t give out my number to anyone.” I nod and tuck it into my sweater pocket. “Let him know that his family and the guys are all worried about him.”

“I’ll call you as soon as I find out anything.”

“Thanks, London.” He turns to leave but stops and glances back at me. “Don’t give up on him, okay?”

I frown and watch him walk across the street and into the grey Mercedes. What did he mean by that?

Somehow, over the weekend, I manage to keep myself busy. I take Bronx out for more walks than usual and clock in some time at the gym doing yoga to clear my mind. On Saturday, I go out for dinner and drinks with Linda and Kristen who rant about their relationships. For that moment, I’m glad that I don’t have any guy drama. Just a neighbour that I can’t get out of my head.

Knowing that perhaps Brian had moved out and was gone for good made it a little easier to not think about him. No more wondering, worrying if I’d bump into him. No more pining away at something that never existed. By Monday though, I find myself becoming bored and ready to get back to the slopes Tuesday morning. At lunchtime, my mind starts to wander and a pair of blue eyes pop into my head. I’m biting my lip as I remember our heated kiss on my porch, then in his living room. A flicker of hurt crosses me when I remember how angry he was, telling me to leave.

I stand up. I can’t take this. I need to do something. Why won’t he get out of my head? Why can’t I get over him? How much longer will this take? I change out of my PJs into jeans, a loose white cream top, dark brown knee high boots, and a dark beige pea coat with dark brown buttons. I leave my long hair down and put on some blush, eyeliner, mascara, and lip gloss. I pour some food into Bronx’s bowl and refill his water.

“I’ll be back,” I tell him and grab my purse. It’s time for a little retail therapy.

Two hours later and my “little” retail therapy has turned into a huge splurge. I’m carrying a medium sized Louis Vuitton shopping bag with a new – horribly expensive – wallet, a few bath goodies from Lush Cosmetics, gourmet chocolate from Rocky Mountain, a new pair of snowboarding pants, candles, and new decorations for the house. I decide it’s best to call the Banff Taxi Service to get home – yes, there’s a taxi service in small town Banff, believe it or not. I’m waiting at the entryway of the Cascade Plaza Mall when I see the Taxi car pull up across the street and the driver climbs out. I exit the doors, shouting, “Taxi!” to grab his attention. He waits for me and I take my bags to cross the street. I hear a shout as I step off the curb and, in a blur, a hand grabs my waist, pulling me back onto the sidewalk. An SUV turns the corner where I was just standing, just barely missing me.

I look up at my rescuer, ready to thank whoever it is for saving my neck. Hazel eyes meet blue; the same ones that have haunted me time and again these past weeks.

Shock registers first, and then a flood of feelings overwhelm me. What is he doing here? How did he just appear out of nowhere like that? I thought he was gone, why is he here? My eyes widen and he continues to stare, his hands still on my waist. Then the memory of that night comes back and the shock is replaced with anger. Hot anger. With my shopping bags hanging on my arms, I place my hands against his chest and push as hard as I can. He doesn’t go very far, which somehow frustrates me more, but he takes a step back. His eyes widen in surprise.

“Don’t touch me!” I hiss and turn on my heel.

“London wait!” he calls out but I’m already across the street. The Taxi driver opens the door for me and I jump in all too eagerly, throwing my bags in first. As the car pulls away from the curb, I glance at the street corner where Brian is. He’s running a hand through his hair, frustration etched on his face. He turns and heads the opposite direction and I lose sight of him as the Taxi turns the corner.

I catch the driver’s eye in the rearview mirror. I guess that he’s in his fifty’s; with a salt and pepper moustache and a smile that reaches his eyes. “You should forgive him, you know,” he says and I look away. “Life is too short dear.”

I bite my lip and continue to stare out of the window. I don’t say much - I’m still trying to calm down from all the emotions I had just gone through in less than ten seconds. The ride is short, but I pay the man generously and thank him for his kind words.

Once inside the house, I collapse on the couch and Bronx comes striding over, placing his head on my lap. I sigh. “Some retail therapy that turned out to be,” I mutter and he groans, looking up at me questioningly. I stand up. “Ready for some dinner?”

He stands, moving his head in what looks like a nod and I laugh. Oh, Bronx. My one constant in life.

I’m glad that I’m back on the slopes the next day; the events from yesterday have me eager for the distraction of work. However, there’s a nasty chill in the air this morning that bites at my cheeks and the weather conditions have the resort empty aside from a few skiers and snowboarders. I’m disappointed to learn that all my day groups have cancelled on me, leaving me to help out instead at the Gondola lifts. By afternoon, dark clouds have rolled in and the wind has picked up.

“Nasty weather today,” Christian remarks over the howling wind as he helps a young man place his snowboard in the slot connected to the Gondola. There’s a line up now for the Gondola heading back down to the main entrances; the few people that had actually come are now leaving early.

“Yeah, hopefully it doesn’t last all week,” I reply as I let the next group of people through. There’s a crackling noise as the intercom comes to life and a man’s voice comes through who I recognize as the resort manager.

“Ladies and gentleman,” he says in a calm voice. “Due to the forecasted snowstorm warning, Sunshine Village will be closing our ski lifts for the rest of the day for your safety. The visibility has continued to decrease and is posing a potential danger for everyone, including the staff and volunteers. We apologize for the inconvenience. Please see the ticket booth to receive a free voucher for your next visit.”

I admit I am a little disappointed. The day has barely started and I was looking forward to doing a few runs myself. Though as Christian and I help the last of the people through, my face is numb and I’m thankful to be going home to a warm, comfy bed.

-

I push at the burning logs in the fireplace with a metal poker and the fire crackles to life. I’m in sweats, a hoody, and thick socks at home with Bronx sitting in front of the fire, thawing from the weather outside. It’s gone from bad to worse; I can hear the wind howling from inside the house and the snow is coming down so hard I could barely see across the front yard. It’s only about five o’clock in the evening but the skies are dark and the sun is hidden behind black clouds. I have a nicely marinated and seasoned roast beef slowly roasting in the oven for the long night ahead and a few movies on Pay-Per-View.

I sit cross legged on my comfy plush couch with about ten pillows and a large duvet surrounding me, a glass of wine on the table beside two burning scented candles. I’m absolutely relaxed and I take it in, switching on the TV to an episode of Friends. However, the show is interrupted a few minutes later with local news about the road conditions in town and on the highways.

“It’s bad out there, folks,” the overly enthusiastic news anchor announces. She’s grinning from ear to ear, and I can’t help but giggle because it’s completely the opposite mood of what she’s announcing. “A delivery truck has crashed in a Banff neighborhood, taking down an electrical pole and leaving quite a large chunk of the neighborhood with no electricity and no heat. In this clip, we see the residents of these houses being picked up by other neighbours or…”

I let her voice trail off as I stand to my feet when the street name is shown on the screen. That’s my street. I saunter off to the window and gasp when I see that the houses across the street from me are all completely dark. I can barely see through the gusting snow, but glimpse a few neighbours who are now climbing into cars and driving off. Mrs. Benson and her boys from across the street and a few doors down are carrying backpacks and trekking through their front yard towards a waiting car. I pull on a pair of Uggs and a parka and brave through the cold and snow outside.

“Mrs. Benson!” I cry out, running across the street to her, eyes squinted against the blowing white flakes.

“London, dear! You better get back into your house. You’re lucky your side of the street runs on a different electrical wire!” she says, yelling against the wind.

“Mrs. Benson, do you guys have a place to stay?” I ask, concerned. “I can always offer you my home.”

“Oh, you sweet girl, thank you,” she replies, voice straining against the wind. She’s a petite Portugese woman, a single mom with three boy and a generous heart. When she found out I lived on my own, she sent me a basketful of Portugese pastries and still does from time to time. “But, we’re on our way back to the bakery. Thankfully, we’ve left the upstairs as an emergency place to stay with beds and the like. So we’ll be fine, honey. That part of town wasn’t hit and the boys are quite excited to have a full night’s access to every pastry they want.”

I grin at her. “Well aren’t they lucky! Alright Mrs. Benson, you all stay safe!”

“Thank you again for the kind gesture. Head on back in, this weather is frightening!”

My door nearly flies off its hinges but I manage to make it safely back inside my warm, comfy home. I stomp the snow off of my boots and have just taken my parka off when the doorbell rings. It must be one of the neighbours needing a place to stay. I figure that I can take as many as I can; perhaps a dozen people and my heart swells with sympathy for everyone whose house was hit. I open the door smiling, ready to take whoever it is out of the cold and my heart immediately drops.  My smile is gone.

He’s standing there, shivering and rocking back and forth on each foot, hands to his mouth and staring up at me with impossible blue eyes. His cheeks are flushed and, for a second, I feel sympathy. Then I’m suddenly taken back to that night and I can feel my face go rigid. I glare at him and Bronx lets out a bark from the living room. I shut the door in his face but the second I do, guilt and pity fill me.

The nerve of him! Coming here looking for a place to stay. Not in a million years. Oh, but I can’t just leave him out there. He’ll freeze. He has nowhere to go. But he’s such an asshole. Then again, he saved your life. Oh yeah, and he saved your dog’s life too. Uggghhhh. My thoughts are battling with each other and I can’t stand it. I hear the howling wind outside which has picked up momentum for a quick second. I close my eyes and sigh. If anything happened to him because I was too selfish…

I open the door. I can just barely make a figure at the end of the walkway and I call out his name.

“Brian!” I call against the violent wind. “Brian, wait!” He turns around, pauses, and then begins walking back towards me; head down against the billowing snow. We’re standing in front of each other, hazel eyes into blue. This time, I don’t fight it. “Well, are you coming in or not?”

Silently, he walks in and I close the door behind him. He turns to me, eyeing me speculatively. “London, are you sure? I mean, I can always head to town and rent a hotel.”

I roll my eyes. “You’re already here,” I reply. “Besides, it’s too dangerous now and you don’t know if there are even any rooms open.”

“I didn’t know where else to go,” he murmurs, looking down at the hardwood floor.

“It’s okay, Brian.” I sigh and look over at the piles of blankets and pillows on the living room couch. “Just…” I pause. “Make yourself warm in front of the fireplace and I’ll grab you some blankets.”

He nods and heads into the living room. I stop when I hear him say my name. “London, thank you.”

My mind is reeling as I take some extra blankets from the storage closet. This has got to be the most awkward night, ever. What do I say? How do I treat him? Damnit. I’m at a loss. I don’t realize I’m staring off into space until Bronx gives me a nudge on my behind. I look down at him and he grumbles at me. I swear he’s almost rolling his eyes. Even he’s exasperated with me. I know I’m overthinking this. God, London. Get your wits together and just… talk. Like two mature adults. Bronx saunters into the bedroom, hops into his doggy bed and curls up and I know he’s turning in for the night. Damn. Not even the dog to distract me from the awkwardness.

Brian is sitting cross legged in front of the fireplace, holding his hands in front of him and occasionally rubbing them together. His jacket is off and he’s wearing a maroon cable knit sweater with khakis. Why, why for the love of God does he have to look so good? Even in a damn snowstorm. He looks over at me as I approach and I feel the blush creeping on my face as I set the blankets down on the couch. He turns to me, the reflection of the fire dancing in his eyes, somehow making them bluer. Is that even possible?

“You can sleep here or in the guest bedroom just down the hall,” I murmur, not too sure what to do with myself.

“London, I just want to thank you again.”

I roll my eyes at him. “You don’t have to thank me all night, Brian.”

“I know, it’s just-“ he sighs and I see a flicker of regret in his eyes. “After the way I’ve treated you.”

I shake my head. “Let’s not go there, please.”

“No.” His voice has changed. It’s resigned, clipped and I’m taken back. Ever so unpredictable Brian is back. He shifts and he’s standing in front of me, looking me in the eyes. I swallow. “We need to talk about this, London. This can’t keep going, especially now that I’m here. We’re neighbours - we can’t avoid each other forever.”

“Not until you move out,” I mutter, more to myself but I know it’s loud enough for him to hear.

He sighs. “London, please.”

I shrug and take a seat on the couch. “Then talk.”

He gives me a pointed look, that same one from the first day. How can this man make me feel so many emotions at once? And I barely know him. He takes a seat next to me, curling one leg under him, his body towards mine. “London, I can’t be who you want me to be.”

I stare at him, and a laugh escapes my lips. “That’s what it is? Brian, I’m over that. I’ve figured that out for myself. Besides, I’ve never asked you to be anyone.”

“I know, but-“ He sighs again and runs a hand through his curly auburn hair, which I’ve noticed has grown and is now falling halfway across his forehead. He looks good. His jaw clenches. “That night I told you to leave, I drank myself to oblivion.” His voice is quiet now and his eyes don’t meet mine. “It was the last thing I wanted to do, was to push you away like that.” He continues. “I drank and I ate all of your fudge.” He laughs, but not a joyful one.

Wow. This is news to me. “So, then why you did you do it?” I ask. My voice has lost its edge and I’m looking at him, searching for a clue. Anything. He is so mysterious, it annoys the shit out of me.

“Because London, I can’t give you what you want!”

“And what is it that I want? What have I ever asked for?” I challenge him and our eyes meet, intense and burning. He’s silent. “I’ve never asked anything of you. It just happened.”

“I can’t give you that Shakespeare bullshit. In my world, there are no flowers, no chocolates, and romantic bubble baths. It’s dark and twisted.”

I raise my eyebrows. “And what gave you the idea that I’m into that Shakespeare bullshit?”

He takes a deep breath and his arms raise, his hands wanting to cup my face but he puts them back down. “You are so… so difficult,” he breathes. “London, I see you and you’re so full of life. You’re smiling, eyes and heart filled with this fire that is so refreshing for someone like me.”

“Someone… like you?”

“I don’t want to put that fire out. You don’t know who I am, London. You don’t know what I’ve been through and why I can’t ever be in a relationship or have something even close to it. Then there’s you, you deserve all of that. I can’t give you that. I’m telling you to stay away.”

“So, you just automatically assumed that’s exactly what I wanted? How do you know I want something like that so quickly?” We’ve somehow moved closer together now, the intensity between us building. You could cut the tension with a knife.

“London, you’re beautiful. A queen to be taken care of. Not, not to be treated with uncertainty.”

“I can take care of myself.”

He closes his eyes, and when he opens them they’re filled with anguish, confusion, longing, and so many other things I can’t place. “What we’ll have…” he pauses, as if contemplating the morality of his thoughts. “I want you,” he breathes. “From the moment I saw you, I’ve wanted you.”

Whoah. Ever so unpredictable. The mood has changed so fast that I feel the whiplash. “Then why push me away?” I whisper and he takes a sharp intake of breath.

“I never meant to,” he says, taking my chin and tilting it up so I’m looking up at him. “All we’ll ever have is physical. That can get so complicated.” He’s staring at me, eyes alight with something new.

I mull it over in my head. Why can’t he look a thousand times less attractive? This would’ve been so much easier. I am so shallow sometimes. But who can resist this man in front of me? “I’m not ready for a relationship, and I won’t be for a long time. I know.”

“This puts us in the same boat.”

“This can get complicated.” I sigh and slump down into the couch. “Or maybe we’re overthinking things.”

He contemplates this. “Maybe so.” He takes my hand then and I feel a jolt where my heart is supposed to be had it not been in my throat this whole time. “London, I’m here,” he says softly, staring at me straight in the eyes. He is so damn beautiful. “Whatever you decide. If you want to go running for the hills, I understand. If you want to do this, I’m giving you fair warning now that I can’t be more for you. I think that’s pretty fair.”

The silence is almost deafening. He has warned me, time and again. And still, here I am hesitating on his proposition. Nothing more than physical. This would mean… I swallow as the memory of his mouth crashing hard on mine enters my head. Oh boy. I shake my head.

“I’d have to think about this,” I murmur and he nods.

“I would hope you do, and not do things out of impulse.”

I take a deep breath. “I just don’t want to get hurt,” I say, my voice barely audible. He gasps and my face is in his hands. Our proximity is making my head swim. I can’t believe I’m here again. Just yesterday, I hated his guts and I was sure I would never see his face. And here we are.

“Baby, I won’t do that,” he breathes and kisses my forehead. “As long as you’ll have me, I’m not going anywhere.”

“Why now?” I ask. “Why, after almost three weeks of not seeing each other, you’re here?”

“Well, there’s a snowstorm,” he says pointedly and I scowl at him. He laughs. “Relax.” He takes a deep breath. “If I didn’t want to be here, I wouldn’t be. I knew what this would implicate, snowstorm or not. If I really wanted to avoid you, I’d be at a hotel in town right now. But I’m not, London.” He intertwines his fingers with mine and my breath is lost, my heart beating rapid against my chest. “I was away this whole time. I needed to get away, from you, from this. I thought I could just get over it.”

“Is that why Nick came looking for you the other day?”

He gives me a confused look. “Nick?”

I nod. “He was here. And actually, I broke my promise that I’m supposed to give him a call if I ever saw you around but I guess I was too heated to remember at that time.” My mind flashes to the day he had saved me from getting hit on the street and how angry I was. Must he always be a knight in shining armor?

He sighs. “I’ll give him a call.” His tone is dark and I can tell he’s remembering something not too pleasant. “I didn’t tell anybody where I was going. I just needed to get away and gather myself. But, the more I was away the more guilt I felt. I couldn’t stay away. I still can’t.” He brings his lips to my hands and something in my stomach does a twirl. “But, it’s dangerous see. Because all we’ll ever be is physical. That’s what I’m telling you.”

I peek up at him through my lashes. “Only physical?”

He nods. “My life is fucked up, London. I can’t go farther than that. It would be a danger to you.”

I frown at this. “What you do mean by that?” Before he could answer, the timer on the oven goes off and I remember my slow-cooked roast beef. “Are you hungry?”

He grins. Mood change again. “Famished!”

The ending credits of ‘A Beautiful Mind’ is rolling on the TV screen and I reach for the remote to hit stop. Brian’s head is on my lap and there are two empty plates on the coffee table. “This is the best roast beef I’ve ever had,” he had mumbled in between bites. We ate our dinner during the movie; roast beef, vegetables swimming in the marinade, and wild rice. Brian had thirds, which oddly made me really happy.

“Wow,” he says, sitting up. “She stuck by him even through all his fucked-upness.”

I nod. “My Mom always said, no matter what situation you are in life, when two people truly love each other, they’re happy no matter what. Love is simple, she used to say, people make it complicated.” I stand up and take the empty plates.

“What happened to her?” he asks softly.

“Breast cancer,” I reply.

“I’m sorry, hun.”

I give him a small smile. “She taught me a lot of things.” I disappear into the kitchen and come back with two steaming mugs of hot chocolate, handing him one. He takes it from me, his look contemplative.

“We don’t have to be complicated,” he murmurs and takes a sip, eyes fixated on mine.

I narrow my eyes at him. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, we could just be…” he trails off.

“Physical?”

He shrugs. “Whatever we are.”

I don’t even know what we are at this moment. Every fiber of my being is telling me to stay away, but I know. I know that I can’t. When Brian Littrell walks out of that door, I know that I would be waiting until he gets back – ready to take on whatever he proposes to me. Not because he requested this weird relationship, but because deep down, I wanted it too. I haven’t been kissed, touched, held in so long… And I never thought I would be interested in anyone because, frankly, I’ve steered clear of the relationship thing so much that I can’t even remember how to be in one.

But, then again, he’s right. Things can get so complicated with just… physical. Feelings arise, people get hurt. A memory flashes in my mind of how my last relationship ended and I cringe. “London?” he murmurs and I’m pulled back into the present.

I sigh. “What do you think?”

“Me?” His eyes look pained. “I’d want you to stay away, because you deserve more.”

I frown and my defenses stack up again. “Then... then maybe I should stay away,” I whisper. His eyes widen slightly and we’re staring at each other again, all intensity gone and replaced with something else. A desperate need.

“Do you mean that?” he breathes and the anguish in his eyes surprises me. His brow is furrowed and he takes my hands. “I can’t stay away from you, London.”

“This is why,” I say. “This is why, because you’re right – it will get complicated. It can get so complicated.”

“I’ll deal with myself.”

“And me?”

He closes his eyes. “I know, I know.” He groans in frustration. “Do you want more?”

The question throws me off and I think about it. “Frankly… no, no I don’t.”

“So?” When he opens his eyes, they’re burning again. Ever so unpredictable. “We both want the same thing, London. But I won’t force you.” He stands up and I look up at him in surprise.

“Where are you going?” I ask.

“I’m going to take these blankets,” he replies, picking up the extra blankets I had laid down on the sofa. “And head to your guestroom to turn in for the night, so you can have some space to think.”

Disappointment fills me, unexpected. “Brian wait,” I stop him, standing up. He turns back to me and I don’t give it a second thought. Suddenly, without thinking it through, my lips are on his - searching, needing, wanting.

“London,” he groans, dropping the blankets from his arms and picking me up, throwing my legs around his waist. Our mouths are on each other, fervent and pleading. My hands are tugging at the curls at the base of his neck and I feel his erection against my crotch. “Good God,” he breathes against my lips and throws me onto the couch. We’re staring at each other, chests rising and falling, faces flushed. His blue eyes are alight with desire, lips parted and hot pink. He looks so good. Then he’s on top of me, grabbing at my waist, my hips, my thighs. “Oh, fuck,” he groans when I grind my hips against his growing manhood. He quickly discards of my hoody and I’m left in a tank top, suddenly feeling exposed. He slides out of his sweater and I see his biceps and chest muscles flex against his tight undershirt.

“Brian,” I whisper as his lips find my neck, down to my collarbone and then to my chest. He slips a strap of my tank top down my shoulder and tugs the neckline down, exposing my breast. I cry out as he swirls his wet tongue against one nipple, his left hand kneading the other.

“You are so fucking beautiful,” he murmurs, finding my lips again. I can feel it down there, my body responding to him. I want this man. “You’re sure about this?” he asks softly, pulling away to look me in the eye. I swallow, my mouth going dry. I’m so nervous all of a sudden.

“Yes,” I reply hoarsely and he doesn’t give me a second to rethink. His mouth is on mine again and I feel his hands between our bodies, fumbling to untie my sweats. He pulls them down easily, taking my panties with them. Whoah. I feel exposed and flush as he leans back to look. His eyes are hooded, filled with want.

“Take your shirt off,” he orders in a husky voice and I do as I’m told, leaving me naked and vulnerable to him. I realize he’s still fully clothed. He smirks at me and moves off the couch, then adjusts me so I’m sitting upright, feet on the floor. He moves onto his knees and takes a hand between my thighs to swiftly part my legs. Oh God. His fingers find my opening, his thumb doing wonders on my clit while the other hand is slowly entering a finger, one a time until his index and middle finger are pumping in and out. By this time, my hands are clenched onto the edge of the sofa, my back is arched and my breathing has turned up ten notches.

“Bri-“ is all I could manage to moan before a scream of pleasure escapes when his tongue replaces his fingers on my clit. And he’s down there, sucking and licking and making my brain turn to mush until my body is twitching from multiple orgasms at once. Beads of sweat have formed and I can’t move, my voice hoarse, and my legs shaking. He stands up and I hear the clink of his belt as he strips his khakis and boxers off, leaving him exposed. Before I could take in the after effects of my orgasms, he’s inside me and I release almost immediately, my body still reeling from his fingers and tongue.

He groans as my womanhood clenches around him and waits until I’m done before moving. “So wet, baby,” he murmurs, staring into my eyes. He’s still standing, my legs hoisted over his shoulders and my butt in the air as he pumps at a steady pace. He reaches between us and his hands are at my clit again, pressing for another orgasm. I don’t think I can take anymore. My mind is fuzzy and my body is racking with so much pleasure that I’m screaming out and moaning uncontrollably.

“Brian,” I breathe, my hands running down his abs. He’s toned and I notice a tattoo on his arm. Can this man look any more like a Greek God? He thrusts harder and I scream out, his eyes not leaving mine. They hold a steady gaze, blue eyes hooded and his bottom lip between his teeth. I reach over and grab a pillow, putting it to my face and screaming as he thrusts harder, deeper. It almost hurts.

“Come here,” he says softly, taking the pillow from me and pulling out. He leads me to the floor on the rug in front of the fireplace and bends me over so that I’m on my hands and knees. “I’m gonna come soon,” he groans and moves behind me. He grabs my hips and thrusts into my womanhood, taking me doggy style. He takes my hair in one hand while the other holds steady at my waist. “Did you miss me?”  He slaps my behind. “Huh?”

“Yes,” I whisper, thrusting back against him. Oh, this is so hot. He’s moving fast now, fervent, his hips thrusting at a manic pace. I feel him tense and he grabs my behind with both hands, squeezing as he leans forward against me and I feel him fill me up. He lets out a loud groan as he empties his load inside me, twitching slightly. Then he falls onto my back, gently placing his weight on his elbows.

We’re both panting, our bodies damp from sweat. His hands move my hair to one side and his lips are on my neck, placing soft kisses on the sensitive skin. “How do you feel?” he whispers in my ear and a shiver runs down my spine. Gently, he turns me around on my back so I’m facing him. He looks so… vulnerable at the moment; hair a mess, eyes searching mine. The weather outside still hasn’t let up. The wind still howling and from the crack in the curtain, I can see the snow is still falling steadily. But here, right now, I feel safe. I smile. He smiles back and leans down to give me a quick kiss on the lips.

He lays his head onto my chest, and I run my hands through his hair. I can hear his breathing becoming steady and the fire still crackling beside us, casting dark shadows on the walls. Fatigue washes over me, and soon, my eyes close and I drift off into a dreamless sleep.

I wake in the middle of the night shivering. The fire is completely out now and I realize I’m still naked. I feel a stir beside me and look over to see Brian get up from his slumber. He’s still naked too. He bends down and picks me up in his arms and I curl up against his body heat. He moves us to the bedroom, where I glimpse Bronx sleeping peacefully on the floor. His ears perk up and his head pops up as Brian carries me into the room, eyeing us curiously. I feel myself being placed gently on the bed, then a dip in the mattress as he crawls in with me. He pulls the blankets over us and engulfs me in his arms.

“Sleep, beautiful girl,” he murmurs and I lay my head on his chest, drifting back to slumber. This time, I dream about a blue eyed man in a room full of lit candles, and he’s blowing the fire out one by one.

-

Sunlight peeks through the curtains and I’m momentarily blinded as I struggle to keep my eyes open. I turn onto my stomach and hug my pillow, drinking in the feeling of having a good night’s rest. I let my eyes adjust to the bright light and look out the window through the little crack in the curtains. The storm has finally subsided and left behind it bright blue skies. I smile at Bronx who’s seated beside the bed, watching me with his head tilted to one side. I feel good, well rested, though I’m oddly sore. My thoughts go back to yesterday; I didn’t do much on the slopes. What did I do? Oh. It dawns on me… what did I do- I bolt upright, clutching the blanket to my still naked body.

He’s there, putting his clothes on and eyeing me. “Hi,” he murmurs carefully, shrugging on his maroon sweater. He’s fully dressed now.

“Hey,” I say in a puff and reach for my tangled hair.

“I’ve gotta run.”

Oh? Where is he going at – I glance at the clock on the bedside table – 7 in the morning? “You don’t want breakfast?”

He shakes his head slowly. “It’s probably best not to stick around.”

Oh. I feel a strange stab of disappointment. No, I should expect this. I nod. “Yeah, it’s probably best.”

“You have work today?” he asks and I feel as though he’s just trying to make small talk before he makes his getaway.

“Yeah,” I reply.

“Have a good day at work, okay?” I nod and he surprises me by walking over to the bed and giving me a quick kiss on the forehead. “Thanks for letting me stay over. I had fun.” He winks at me, a smirk on his face and I bite my lip shyly. With that, he turns to leave and closes the door behind him.

I look over at Bronx and slowly let out the breath that I hadn’t realized I was holding. I fall back onto my bed and run my hands through my hair. What have I gotten myself into?

The snowstorm from last night produced the perfect conditions on the slopes; fresh powder and clear skies. The weather has warmed up too. The resort today is quite busy, everyone wanting to get some good runs while it lasted. Often times I wonder if people skip work and school for a day in the mountains. But then again, if it wasn’t my job, I’d be up here any chance I got, too.

All day, I am completely distracted. I’m able to focus when instructing the kids, but in between day groups, I’m lost in space thinking about the events of last night. Completely unexpected. Did I like it? My stomach twists at the thought. That, I’m not sure of. My conscience is nagging at me – this is wrong. I know this won’t end well. What do I do now?

“London!” I snap out of it at Linda’s voice. “Earth to London? What is up with you today?”

I can’t tell her. Guilt punches my stomach, along with my conscience. She already dislikes Brian for what he did, she would give me the Linda lecture at this one and I’m already giving myself enough of that. “I’m fine, just tired. Snowstorm last night and all kept me up.”

She eyes me quizzically. “Okay…” she says slowly. “Your afternoon day group cancelled, so let’s have lunch together!”

I’m distracted throughout lunch too and I know Linda can tell that something’s up. It won’t be too long until she figures it out, but she doesn’t press for it. Instead, she tries to divert my thoughts and chats away as usual.

“So, Christian has the hots for you.”

I nearly choke on my tuna melt. “What?”

“He asked me if you were single.”

I raise an eyebrow at her. “Don’t start, L.”

She rolls her eyes at me. “Have some fun, girl! Get out there. You deserve a great guy who can treat you like the queen that you are!”

My stomach twists at her words. And yet, I’ve fallen for Brian Littrell’s charms. “Whatever, all of that stuff is overrated.”

She cocks her head to one side and gazes at me, trying to catch my eye but I don’t look up, pretending to focus instead on my food. “Maybe it is. But I would love to see you happy with someone, London. I know you’ve had your heartbroken, we all have, but it’s nice sharing your life with someone else you know? Love isn’t something that’s repulsive, it’s a great thing.

I sigh. “I know… I know, L. I’m just-“ I pause when I feel a vibration against my sweater pocket. I pull out my cellphone and there’s a new text from an unfamiliar number. I open it.

Hey, baby. It’s Brian, I found your number on your bedside table before I left this morning. I hope that’s not weird. Just wanted to see how your day’s going.

My heart does double flips, jumps to my throat, and then drops to my stomach. I look up at Linda who’s giving me a questioning look. “I’m not ready for something serious,” I finish, tucking my phone back into my sweater pocket. “I’m good right now.”

She narrows her eyes at me. “Whatever is occupying your heart London, I hope it’s something you deserve.”

I don’t text Brian back right away. I need to get him out of my head. It’s just physical, right? I shouldn’t be thinking about him like this anyway. I think I’m going crazy. After lunch with Linda, I have about two hours to spare before ski lift duties so I do a few runs to clear my head. It helps a little; the only sounds I hear are the whoosh of my snowboard as I carve down the mountain and the wind whizzing past my ears. The adrenaline rushes through me and, somehow, it’s comforting and familiar.

What am I thinking? Linda’s right, I do deserve something more than this. But he’s so irresistible, how do I stay away from this? Do I want to? Could I, if I had to? I dig my heels in and come to a full stop. I sit and take in the view of the surrounding mountains, breathing in the fresh air. I lie on my back and stare up at the sky where a few clouds have formed. Yes, yes I can stay away if I had to. And I should. Because I’m not weak, and I won’t ever let a man walk over my feelings and take advantage of it. A relationship like this never ends well and I have the power to stop it right now.

I reach inside my jacket for the cellphone tucked safely inside my sweater pocket. There’s another text from Brian: You might be busy, text me when you can hun. My stomach twists. I can do this. Taking a deep breath, I text him back.

Brian, I’m sorry I’m doing this over text but I have a feeling that I won’t be able to do it in person. Maybe I’m a coward, but either way this has to be said. What happened last night was out of the blue and should be left for just that one night. I can’t do this – it’s completely out of my character and I’m not about to start. We both know it’s wrong. I’m sorry.

I hit send and tuck the cellphone back into my pocket and zip up my jacket. I let out a slow breath and lean back onto my elbows. There, that took care of that. But, why do I not feel as accomplished as I should? Instead, I feel that stab of disappointment and curiosity builds in the back of my mind. What if we continued? Would he change his mind, could a legit relationship develop? Oh, I am going crazy.

I sit and let my thoughts consume me, staring off into the distance. I hear the whoosh of skis stopping behind me and, two seconds later, a head of messy dark brown hair and grey eyes are looking down at me. “Hey, London,” Christian greets, pearly whites set in a big grin. It’s contagious and I smile back up at him.

“Just enjoying the view,” I say, sitting upright.

“It’s amazing isn’t it?” He stabs a ski pole into the snow and reaches out a hand to help me up. “You ready for ski lift duties?”

I laugh. “Oh joy!” I take his hand and he pulls me up, holding me steady.

“Oh it’s not that bad. We get to do it together, at least.” He smiles warmly at me and I blush, taking my eyes away from his. Without another word, we set off down the mountain together towards the main lodge; all thoughts of Brian gone. For now.

By the time I get home, the sun is just setting against the horizon. My favourite time of day. Bronx is waiting for me eagerly at the door and I kneel down to scratch his ears and he responds happily. “Hey, baby,” I coo, kissing his wet nose. “You ready to get out and stretch your legs a little?” He barks his response and I hook his leash onto his collar.

I can’t help it. I quickly glance over at Brian’s house as Bronx and I take a walk around the block. He hasn’t texted me back. Didn’t even put up a fight. But then again, did I want him to? Oh my God, I need to get over it and chill out. I’ve never been like this before; so confused, yet pining away for a guy. I roll my eyes at myself and force it out of my mind. After Bronx has finished his business, we head back to the house and I’m just thinking about what to prepare for dinner when I feel a vibration against my side. A text message. My heart leaps out of my chest, but I wait until we’re back in the house to read it.

I see that you’re home now. Come over. Please. I’ll be waiting.

I stare at my phone in surprise, confusion, utter bewilderment. That was the last thing I ever expected him to text. Did he not get my text? Or rather, did he not understand the hint? Curiosity builds again and I close my eyes, sitting on the couch with my head in my hands. What do I do, what do I do? This would’ve been a good time to call Linda and see what she thinks, but I can’t tell her. Not yet. No, I can’t. I’ve made up my mind.

Feeling resolved, I head towards my bedroom to take a quick shower. Why does he want me to come over? To talk? To have closure? Yeah, maybe that’s it. My mind is running around in circles and by the time I’m out of the shower, I can’t stand it. I need to know why he wants to see me. Damnit, this is going to bug me all night ‘til I’m blue in the face and up at five in the morning. I quickly dry my hair, put some make up on, and dress in slim-fitting dark grey Levi’s, a loose cream sleeved top, and shrug on a casual olive green jacket.

I can feel my heart nervously pounding against my chest as I cross the street to his house. Oh, why am I here? He’s shoveled his walkway. I frown, realization hitting me that there was no struggle against two feet of snow to reach my porch today. I whip around to look at my walkway. It’s shoveled, too.

“You shoveled my walkway,” was the first thing I say when he opens the door. He’s dressed in jeans and a fitted grey waffle thermos sweater that shows off his muscles nicely. Seriously, why does he have to look so good?

“Did I?” he replies, an amused smile on his face. I roll my eyes at him.

“Brian, what do you want?” I ask, not wanting to beat around the bush. I step into his house and he closes the door behind me.

“You.” I turn to look at him and his blue eyes are alight, the same smirk still plastered on his face.

“I’m serious, Brian.”

“Me too.” He takes a step closer to me and I take a step back. He takes another step and I take another.

“Didn’t you get my text?” I breathe. He smells of sweet cologne mixed with ocean body wash. And all I want to do at that moment is be in his arms and breathe in the familiar, comforting smell. He’s looking at me with an intensity that makes my legs feel like Jello.

“Yeah,” he replies softly. “You want to stay away from me?”

I nod. “It would be best.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“I do!” He keeps walking towards me and I’ve backed up to the back of his couch.

“If you did, you wouldn’t be here.” He stops a few inches in front of me, eyes no longer playful but serious. “Do you mean that, London?”

I bite my lip. He’s right, I wouldn’t be here if I absolutely meant it. I’m completely vulnerable to this man. This man who wants me and he’s all looks, charms, and smooth moves. But he’s also kind, genuine, and I’ve seen his gentle side. The feeling is exhilarating but scary at the same time. Oh, what this man could do to me. “Brian I-“

“You don’t know what you do to me, London,” he murmurs, leaning closer. It’s as if he’s read my mind. “I can’t let you go that easily.”

“But it’s only physical.”

He closes his eyes. “That’s why I asked if you wanted more.” When he opens them, he looks lost and frustrated. He takes a step back away from me and I feel that stab of disappointment again. “Look, I’ve told you that I can’t. Yes, it’ll only be physical but you told me you weren’t ready for anything more than that so I was under the impression that we had agreed on this… this weird relationship.” He pauses. “Tell me, right now, if you want to leave and I won’t bother you again. I swear to you, I’ll leave you alone if that’s what you really want.”

I stare at him for a long time, or at least what seemed like a long time. One part of me wants to stay, wants to know how this will turn out. And the other part, probably the smarter part, knows that I can’t go through with this because I know how it will end; a losing battle.

“I’m sorry, Brian,” I whisper and my heart constricts as I push past him towards the door. I get a sense of deja-vu. This isn’t the first time that I’m walking out of his house feeling like this. He grabs my arm and turns me around, eyes burning into mine.

“Tell me you don’t want me like I want you, London,” he growls and takes my face into his hands. “Tell me.”

I gasp. “Brian, please-“

“Tell me.” He drops his hands and motions to the door. “If you don’t, go then. I’m letting you walk out that door.” I hesitate for a second and he doesn’t miss a beat. Suddenly, his lips are on mine and I give into the kiss. He wraps his arms around my waist and my hands find his biceps, feeing his strong arms around me. “Stay,” he whispers between kisses and I nod.

And for the first time today, my heart soars with happiness. I don’t want to go anywhere. How can something so wrong make me happy? Is it even wrong? Two single adults consenting to a sexual relationship? Is that what this is? At the moment, I don’t care as I savour his kisses. which move from my lips to my ears and neck. We’re not hurting anybody, right?

“Is this wrong?” I ask and he stops to look at me. I can tell he’s thinking about the question. I let out a surprised yelp when he swiftly unbuttons my pants, reaches into my panties, and sticks a finger into my opening.

“Does this feel wrong?” he whispers. I tip my head back and moan. “Didn’t think so.”

Next thing I know, he’s bending me over the back of his couch and pulling my jeans down. I hear the sound of his zipper, then his pants fall to the floor and he’s thrusting into me. And as I’m screaming his name, I know there’s no turning back.

I’m lying on Brian’s chest on his bed, his arms around me and our legs tangled in each other’s. We’re both naked with only a thin bed sheet over us. His bedroom is cozy and modern; black furnishing, a large king-sized bed, and a walk-in closet that leads into a bathroom. To my surprise, he has a lot of candles around the room that is the only source of light at the moment and they cast shadows on the walls. I’ve never thought him to be a candle man. I’m all warm and comfortable, not wanting to get up for at least a few hours. He’s stroking my back gently and I sigh, content. This feels nice.

He gets up and suddenly, he’s on top of me on his hands and knees. “Are you hungry?” he asks, a big grin on his face. As if on cue, my stomach grumbles in response and I can’t help but giggle. His grin widens. “I’ll take that as a yes.” He crawls out of bed and reaches both hands to me, helping me up. “Come, I want to take you somewhere.”

Excited Brian. I’ve never really seen this side.

“Where are we going?” I ask after we’ve dressed and freshened up.

“You’ll see,” he replies with a smile and I feel a flutter of excitement in my stomach. Ever so unpredictable. We’re out the front door and he leads me to the back of the house where there’s a garage that I’ve never noticed was there until now. He opens the door to the garage and, for a moment, I’m blinded by darkness until he hits a button and the garage door opens.

My mouth drops. There, sitting in this tiny space, is a brand new white Ferrari with all black five-spoked wheels. Then it hits me. I almost forgot - he’s ridiculously wealthy. “Wha-“

“We’re going to Lake Louise,” he says, cutting into my thoughts and grabs my hand.

He opens the door for me. It goes up instead of out. Up! I’ve never been in such a fancy car before. Usually just Linda’s old Sunfire and my Dad’s pick-up truck. I have to duck my head to slip into the passenger’s seat and I glance up at him as he closes the door. He winks at me and my heart jumps to my stomach. Geez, get a grip London. He slips into the driver’s seat and puts the key into the ignition. The car purrs to life. Oh, I like this car. Boyz II Men filters through the speakers and he glances at me from the corner of his eyes.

“Didn’t know you’re into slow jams,” I murmur, looking out the window as he pulls out of the garage.

He snorts. “I sing slow jams for a living.”

Right.

“Is this safe to drive in this weather?” I ask when I notice passing snow banks that are taller than the car itself.

“Probably not,” he murmurs and grins at me. I shake my head. Of course.

“How is it like?” I peek up at him and he glances at me again before turning out of the neighborhood.

“The car?”

“No, being a member of one of the biggest boy bands in the world.”

He’s contemplative again, staring straight ahead. “Fame can get very lonely,” he says finally. “People want to know you just to know you. You’re always watching your back because someone can fuck you over, just like that.”

I’m quiet for a minute. “Has that happened to you?”

“A few times , yeah.” He looks over at me as we reach a stop light. His smile is back. “Do you drive?” Oh, he’s changing the subject.

“I have my license,” I reply. “I know how to, but no I don’t have a car. Seems kind of impractical for this town. Especially a fancy once.” I smile back at him and he laughs.

“Very true, baby.”

I take this moment to look at him. Really look at him. He’s been through so much with fame and success, at such a young; he’s seen the world. Girls cry and scream and fall just to have the chance to meet him or touch his hand. And he’s here, with me. And I’ve touched every crevice of his body. I blush at the thought. I think of when I first met him, so quiet and moody and now he’s – it’s almost as if he’s someone totally different. There’s something there though that he’s not telling me, that he seems almost fearful of. I can see it in the way he clenches his jaw and his body tenses when I look into his eyes, or when I laugh at his jokes. I want to know what it is. What’s keeping him from the outside world?

He’s staring back at me warily. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

I snap out of it and our eyes meet. “Just wondering what you’re about.”

He grins and steps on the gas when the light turns green. “London, I’ve been wondering the same thing about you since I’ve first laid eyes on you.”

My eyes widen. “You hit me with your passenger door!”

He looks at me sideways. “I meant what I said,” he replies pointedly. “You shouldn’t have left Bronx there. Plus, maybe I just wanted to see you bend over.” He’s teasing now.

At this, I had to laugh. “If you have to accidentally hit a girl with your passenger door to see her bend over in front of you, then I’d suggest you need to up your game Brian Littrell.”

His mouth opens in mock disgust. “London Cartier! Not all of us can have the ability to see others fall at thy feet like you do.”

I’m grinning from ear to ear now. “This coming from the man who sings slow jams for a living?”

He laughs. “You have it easy.” He pauses. “But then again, I don’t think I have much trouble in that game department. You’re here, right?” He smirks and I narrow my eyes at him.

“Pretty sure you were begging me to stay just an hour ago,” I tell him pointedly and he clamps his lips together, staring straight ahead. I know he’s trying not to smile.

“Whatever, Ms. Bear-Safe-Bin.”

“London – 1. Brian – 0!” I say triumphantly and we’re both laughing as the car turns onto the Queen Elizabeth Highway.

The drive to Lake Louise is short; it being a late evening on a weekday, there were barely any cars on the road. The sun has completely set and the stars are out, brighter than ever away from the lights of the town. Here, it’s quiet and dark aside from the vintage-looking lamp posts lighting the surrounding the area. The lake is quiet, dark blue reflected off the night sky and the moon blanketing its’ white light over the surface. I can see the mountains looming darkly in the background. The view is breathtaking and Brian pauses beside me take it in.

Behind us, Chateau Fairmont stands magnificent like a castle; lit up and overlooking the lake. Brian takes my hand then and we walk up to the hotel doors. My curiosity is building. I sit on one of the plush couches in the very fancy foyer as he walks up to talk to the man at the front desk. This hotel has been around since the 1920’s and everything looks vintage and old-fashioned. Most of the furnishings are a dark oak finish and there’s a gigantic chandelier hanging near the foot of a grand staircase. I’m momentarily distracted by a young couple walking arm in arm through the front doors, big grins on their faces, and up the stairs of the grand entryway. They look so…

Brian’s voice cuts into my thoughts and I look up at him. “If you’ll follow me, my lady,” he says formally, a grin on his face. He’s been smiling all night. It’s very charming. I smile back and reach for his hand.

“What are we doing here?” I ask but he says nothing.

We reach the 7th floor, which has private check-in and I stand by patiently as Brian again talks to the representative at the desk. A few minutes later, he’s holding a card key in his hand and I follow him down the hallway.

A hotel? Is this necessary? We both live a few minutes’ drive away.

My mind shuts up when he opens the door and I take in the magnificent view from the floor to ceiling windows. The suite is huge; a large king-sized bed, a living area, and a kitchen with oak-paneled walls. What catches my eye though, are the windows that lead to a large wrap around balcony. Brian leads me out onto the balcony and there’s a table and two plush chairs on one corner facing the lake. Heat lamps are situated on all four corners and one in the middle, making the balcony cozy and warm. I’ve never seen this view before; it’s simply breathtaking.

“Sit,” he commands and pulls out a chair for me. I notice there are two plates on the table both covered with large silver lids. There’s an open bottle of champagne in ice situated on the middle of the table and I giggle as he takes it and pours us both a glass, his chin up and his eyes cast down like a snotty restaurant server. “Ze menu for today,” he says in a fake French accent, dramatically pulling the lids off the plates. I’m grinning from ear to ear.

Lobster! My mouth drools. We’re having lobster tail for dinner, with a small sirloin steak, grilled asparagus, and baked potato. I touch the plate; it’s still hot. “When did you plan this?” I ask incredulously as he takes a seat.

“This afternoon.”

I raise my eyebrows. “After I sent you that text message?”

He grins. “It’s okay, we’re here.”

“So you rent out the biggest suite in Chateau Fairmont just to have dinner on the balcony?” When he says nothing, my eyes widen. “Brian! You know, I would’ve been just fine with McDonald’s.” Again, he says nothing and we stare at each other for a few seconds. “Why?”

He shrugs. “Because I can.” He takes a sip of champagne. “Eat up.”

This has to be the most romantic thing anyone has ever done for me. Dinner on the balcony of one of the finest hotels in Canada, a perfect view of the moon-washed lake under the stars, and the best gourmet food I’ve ever tasted. All throughout dinner, Brian is a complete gentleman. He would occasionally reach across the table, take my hands and kiss each knuckle which made my heart flutter every time. We rarely talked about him again; though I tried, he would always somehow divert the conversation back to me.

The night is perfect. Yet somehow, as I sit in his arms in one of the balcony’s large plush couches staring at the stars, I feel that same nagging feeling in the back of my mind. I don’t do romance. His voice echoes in my head. That was just last night. And here we are, in the most romantic setting I’ve ever been in. In any other situation, this would’ve been a positive time in a relationship. But given that we’re not actually in a relationship, I’m afraid tonight has only left me even more confused. I look up at him and he smiles down at me. I lean in and our lips meet in a soft kiss. His body tenses as it always does when I show any form of affection- and the confusion in my heart grows.

“So, why Bronx?”

“Hm?” I murmur, my ear against his chest. We must’ve been in this position for hours now; cuddled up on the balcony with a blanket over us. The couch is so comfortable, and I’m so warm in his arms. My eyes begin to droop.

“Why did you choose the name Bronx?” he asks, his chin resting gently on the top of my head.

“I’m from New York, originally.” I yawn and try to blink the sleepiness out of my eyes.

“Really? You never told me that.”

“I barely remember it,” I reply. “I was only two years old when my parents moved us to Vancouver. My Dad is from Bronx and my Mom is from Brooklyn. They met in Manhattan, on New Year’s Eve in front of Times Square.” I smile at the thought and feel my hair flutter as he sighs.

“Romance,” he murmurs. I yawn again and I feel him laugh softly. “Time to go, I think. It’s past your bedtime.” He sits upright and I wish he hadn’t.

“I was so comfortable.” I pout and he smiles.

“I know.” He gives me a quick peck on the lips as we untangle ourselves from each other and stand. “But you have work tomorrow.”

I groan, remembering my 7am wake up call. “Work!”  I follow him into the hotel suite. I glance at the clock; it’s just past eleven.

“Ms. Cartier, you enjoy your work!”

For some reason, Christian comes to mind and I sigh. Not the part where I get hit on every day. 

He turns to me. “What?”

I look up, startled and realized I had said that out loud. Wow, I do need to sleep. I shake my head. “No, nothing. Just… talking to myself,” I reply and he stops before we reach the hotel door.

“Tell me.” His eyes are intense, looking into mine. Whoah.

I sigh. “It’s nothing. Just an admirer I guess.”

His jaw clenches. “Has he asked you out?” His voice is clipped. Geez, what is up with him?

“No,” I say defensively. “And even if he did, is it any of your business?” I motion at the space between us. “Physical, remember?”

His face hardens and he turns toward the door, purposely not holding it open for me. He is so frustrating. I glare at him and he glares back, blue eyes burning into hazel. I’m the first to tear my eyes away and I look down at the floor as we enter the elevator.

“Are you attracted?”

What? “To who?”

“That guy?”

“Wow, I cannot believe you just asked me that.” I raise my eyes to the ceiling, feeling exasperated.

“Don’t roll your eyes at me.”

“I didn’t,” I snap and glare at him once more.

“Are you? You didn’t answer my question.”

“No!” I exclaim, frustrated. “Yes, I- I don’t know! He’s attractive, sure, but I’ve never thought about it.”

His jaw clenches again and he tears his eyes from me, staring straight ahead as we walk out of the elevator and into the main foyer. I wait as he talks to the man at the front desk, and then we walk in silence all the way to the car. At least he’s opened the door for me. I think bitterly to myself as I slip into the passenger’s seat. Before he closes it, he looks me dead in the eye and grabs my chin.

“I only have eyes for you, London.” With that, he slams the door shut and I shrink into my seat.

As I watch him climb into the driver’s seat and start the car, a weird feeling rises in my stomach. The light of the moon bounces off his eyes, making them look almost transparent and the outline even darker. Even at this moment, when he’s angry and I’m frustrated, that small remark brings a tiny bubble of hope in the pit of my stomach.

The Ferrari pulls into the quiet neighborhood, a stark contrast in a quiet and small town. Instead of parking it in the garage, Brian parks right in front of his house and steps out of the car. He quickly strides over to my side and pulls the door up.

“Stay with me tonight,” he murmurs, taking my hand to help me out. I look up at him, surprised. “I’ll wake you up tomorrow and take you to work.”

I look back at the beautiful car parked at the side of the curb. “In that?”

He raises an eyebrow at me. “Is there a problem?”

I shake my head. “No.”

I follow him into the house and, almost immediately after I’ve taken my shoes off, he sweeps me up and I gasp with surprise. “Are you too tired for me, baby?”

After trying to keep up with his crazy mood swings, I’m suddenly wide awake. “I’m never too tired for you,” was my reply and the cheesy grin is back on his face. He throws me onto the giant king-sized bed and growls as he jumps on top of me, capturing my lips in his.

-

I wake groggily from the feeling of something wet against my face. For a moment, I think it’s Brian incessantly licking my chin and my eyes blink open, bewildered. I see a large furry face and a wet nose and I groan, realizing that it’s Bronx.

“Morning sunshine,” I hear Brian’s cheerful voice chuckling at me. Wow, how is this man so full of energy?

“Bronx,” I groan, my voice still hoarse from sleep. I squint against the bright light and throw my arms over my face.

“I retrieved your house key from your jacket pocket when you fell asleep last night,” Brian informs me. “I let Bronx here. He’s fed and relieved himself.”

Wow, I’m thoroughly impressed. “Thank you,” I say; my voice still hoarse. In fact, my throat is burning. I cough, seeing if it would go away but it persists. I sit up. Oh no.

“Are you sick?” Brian eyes me warily, reading my mind.

“I think I have a sore throat,” I reply.

“Wait here.” He disappears and I fall back against the bed, my head throbbing. Bronx curls up next to me. A few minutes later, Brian comes back into the bedroom holding a steaming mug of hot water, ginger, and lemon. Boy this guy is really attentive to my needs. For someone who’s not my boyfriend.

“Thank you,” I whisper, wincing as my throat constricts. I take a sip of the mug and close my eyes; instant relief.

“You’re still going to work like that?” he asks me, a hint of disapproval in his voice. “You’re sick.”

“Yes,” I insist. “If I feel worse, I can always just sit out the day and help out indoors.”

He shakes his head. “So stubborn. Come, you need to shower and get ready so we can grab breakfast on the way.”

“What time is it?”

“7:30.”

My eyes widen. “My shuttle to the resort comes at 8!”

“Don’t worry. I’m taking you to work, remember? I’ll have you there just in time.” He winks at me and I stare at his back as he walks away. He’s up to something, I know it.

-

I’m wrapped in a large, white towel in my bathroom, blow drying my hair. Brian had come with me home so I could shower and get ready and was now waiting in the living room, watching early morning cartoons. I stare at my flushed face in the mirror. I had been in the middle of squeezing body wash onto a loofa sponge when Brian had stepped into the shower with me. I was startled, so startled, at the sight of him in my shower that I would’ve slipped and fell had he not caught me.

“Relax,” he’d whispered in my ear, his hands moving down to cup my butt. It was a quick romp, wet, slippery, steaming, and mind blowing. After he had filled me up, he made sure I had my fair share of multiple orgasms before quietly stepping out of the shower, leaving me hot and bothered.

When I’m ready and packed for the day, I meet Brian in the living room where he’s playing with Bronx. He smiles up at me as I enter the room. “You ready?”

“Yup,” I reply and we head out.

“What would you like for breakfast?” he asks as we drive through the neighborhood toward the town center. I notice that passersby are gawking at the car and I’m glad the windows are tinted.

“Evelyn’s Coffee Bar, please.” I hadn’t had my chocolate croissant fix in a while.

As we climb out of the Ferrari, which is now parked right in front of the coffee shop, people are full on taking out their phones to capture a picture of the car. I can’t blame them; it’s rare to see such a beautiful car here, especially in the winter months. We grab a quick breakfast and are out onto the main road in no time. It’s just past 8:40 when we make it to the Sunshine Village Resort. I see the shuttle parked a few feet away from us and my co-workers filtering out. I’m praying to myself that none of them notices me getting out of the car.

“I’m headed to the city today to meet up with Nick,” Brian tells me when I turn to him. His eyes are unreadable, and his jaw is set. “I don’t know how long I’ll be, I might not be home until tomorrow.” He sighs and tilts my chin up. “Take care of that throat.” He gives me a quick peck on the lips.

“Thanks for the ride and the great shower.” I grin at him as I climb quickly out of the car, trying to draw as little attention as possible. Who am I kidding? A Ferrari at a ski resort not gaining some sort of attention?

“Hey, London!” I cringe when I hear Christian’s voice behind me. A few seconds later, he’s beside me and I turn to him, forcing a smile on my face. “Great car!

I laugh nervously. “Yeah.” I look back at Brian, who is just now pulling out of the lot. I catch a glimpse of his face; jaw rigid and burning blue eyes regarding Christian coolly who stares back at him impassively.

Christian glances at me out of the corner of his eyes. “Boyfriend?”

I shake my head. “Nope. Friend.”

A friend, I realize, who just dropped me off at work to make sure he’s marked his territory.

I was able to get through until lunch time with cough drops and about a million cups of hot water and lemon. Friday has the resort busy and lively; the parking lot reaching capacity, the lodge filled with skiers and snowboarders, and popular music blasting through the speakers. The atmosphere is positive and my mood is happy. My mind wanders to Brian ever so often, but they’re pleasant thoughts of last night’s dinner on the balcony of Chateau Fairmont. I hope he’s made it to Calgary safely. I’m waiting for my next day group and decide to shoot him a quick text.

Hey Bri, let me know if you’ve made into the city safely. Xoxo, London.

I wait a few minutes, no response. Hmm. I shrug it off when my group arrives and am distracted for the rest of the day. At the end of my shift, I’m assigned to regulatory runs again with the ski-do and Christian joins me at the top of Goat’s Eye Mountain. The sky is cloudy with light snow. I stand on the ski-do and look around; no one but the first-aid emergency crew who are also doing their regulatory runs. I take this opportunity to check if Brian had texted back. My heart flutters when I see the new text icon. I open it eagerly, but it’s just a text from Linda who was ranting about a stubborn teenager earlier. My heart drops a little with disappointment but I try to force it out of my mind.

He’s not your boyfriend, he’s not your boyfriend. He doesn’t have to check up with you, London.

“See anyone?” Christian calls out to me and I shake my head in reply.

“Let’s do one more circle just in case then head back!”

He nods and we take off together down the mountain.

When I get home, Bronx is waiting for me eagerly and I take him out for a walk around the block. Still no text from Brian. I must admit, I’m a little bit irked at this. I mean, I know he doesn’t have to but the least he can do is let me know he’s safe. I don’t know how to react to this – I’ve never been irked by a friend not texting me back right away and it frustrates me more that I’m feeling this way than the fact that he hasn’t texted back.

Get a grip, London. Seriously, you need to chill out.

By dinner time, I begin to worry. What if something has happened? His fancy car isn’t exactly the most reliable in winter. Also, my sore throat has crept back up on me and feels a hundred times worse. I can feel myself burning up and decide to relax on the couch with some blankets and Friends on TV. It’s just past 8:00 when I hear a knock on the door.

My heart soars. Brian?

I nearly jump out of my seat, startling Bronx who’s curled up at my feet. I open the door with a big smile but there’s an unfamiliar face standing on the other side of it. He’s young, wearing a beige hat that reads “Evelyn’s Coffee Bar”. I frown; I hadn’t ordered anything from Evelyn’s.

“Can I help you?” I ask and he holds out a large brown paper bag and a steaming Styrofoam coffee cup.

“Delivery for London Cartier from a Mr-“ He squints at a piece of paper stapled to the paper bag. “Brian Littrell.”

Brian. Ever so unpredictable. I can’t help but smile. “Thank you,” I say, taking the paper bag and cup from him. “I’m afraid I don’t have cash on me though.”

“Already paid for, ma’am. He had it ordered earlier this morning to be sent to this address.” Oh, Brian.

I take the goodies into the kitchen and start taking the contents out of the bag. There’s a large container of warm chicken noodle soup – “For your throat,” a sticky note attached to the container says, an egg salad sandwich, and a smaller bag with a chocolate croissant in it with another sticky note that reads, “For tomorrow morning.” It makes me smile and I do a little happy dance in the kitchen like a fool. I look over at Bronx who’s regarding me with his head cocked to one side. I giggle. And then I realize what I’ve just done and collapse onto a chair. I’m acting like a giddy school girl. A giddy school girl in puppy love. I blow away a strand of hair that has fallen onto my face.

This can’t be good.

The next day, I’m feeling well enough to go to work. It’s a busy Saturday as usual, and I’m thankful that tomorrow is a day off for me. I still haven’t gotten any word from Brian and he hasn’t been back from the city. Worry still nags at the back of my mind, but a tiny part of me can’t help but be annoyed with him. I force it out of my mind; I won’t let Asshole Neighbour ruin my day.

And what a beautiful day it is; clear skies, fresh snow, and the temperature just right for some good runs on the slopes. The kids are all extremely excited and their laughter is contagious as they stumble and fall on their snowboards down the bunny hill. My mood is lifted instantly. We’ve also set up some fun activities, including obstacle courses and treasure hunts for the kid. For the more experienced adults, a mini snowboard competition in the terrain park with prizes and free giveaways. Linda and I are partnered up today, and being with her is bound to have some good laughs and silly girl conversations. All thoughts of Brian are temporarily forgotten and I’m having a great time at work.

The good times seem to fly by though because, next thing I know, the day is over and the last of the skiers are packing up their things. I’m not ready to go home though, feeling like the day is still young. It seemed I’m not the only one that felt that way because Mark brought up the idea of sticking around and having drinks at the lounge bar. The few of us that are left behind; including Linda, Kristen, and Christian from our sector and a handful of volunteers decide to stay. There are a few patrons in the lounge already who are staying overnight at the resort and we choose two tables situated right beside a large window that overlooks the beautiful sunset outside. I feel myself relaxing, my mood still happy. It’s such a great way to wind down from a busy day.

I order a pitcher of sangria to share with Linda and she doesn’t hesitate on the interrogation.

“So, I heard that you came to work the other day in style,” she says, her eyebrows raised and taking a sip of sangria.

“I always come to work in style.” I grin at her, taking a sip from my own cup and trying to joke my way through the Linda questionnaire. Her auburn hair is framing her face in waves, all bouncy and shiny with her large green eyes alight with humour. Even after a full day on the slopes, she manages to look gorgeous.

“Not in a Ferrari you don’t!” she remarks and giggles at the ‘I-don’t-know-what-you’re-talking-about’ expression on my face. “Do not even hide from me! I’m your best friend and I have the right to kick it out of you.”

I laugh at her. “Oh God, it was just a ride from Brian.”

“Brian!” she squeals and I kick her under the table as heads turn curiously toward us. I look up and catch Christian’s eye who’s regarding me with an unreadable expression. He looks away and continues to talk to Mark, but I have a feeling his ears are open.

“Can you please turn it down!” I hiss at her and she clamps her lips, trying to hide her growing smile.

“I thought he totally gave you the boot?”

I roll my eyes. “He kind of stayed over during the snowstorm,” I mumble incoherently and down my glass of sangria before filling my cup again.

“What?” Her eyes are wide now, body leaned across the table, and scrutinizing me. “London Cartier! And you didn’t tell me?”

I bite my lip and stare back. “I’m telling you now.”

“So?”

I shrug, not giving anything away.

“Oh, please.” She leans back, her arms crossed and studying me with a knowing smile on her face. “Just tell me you’ll be careful?”

I nod. “You know me, L.” I raise my glass to her. “Enough about boys. Here’s to coming to work in style every day.” She shakes her head, chuckling at me before clinking her glass with mine.

Mark calls for an employee shuttle at 10pm, the driver none too pleased with us. “Next time, just drink in the city!” he exclaims, but we’re all too filled with alcohol to care.

My head is swimming and I’m chewing on pieces of bread to soak up the alcohol in my system. Linda is talking animatedly on the phone with Renald, Mark is scaring the volunteers with horror stories about avalanches, Christian is occupying the bathroom in the back, while Kristen is passed out in the seat in front of me. I’m staring out the window, my thoughts slowly creeping back to Brian, when Christian appears out of nowhere and plops down beside me.

“Had a great time?” he asks, his mega-watt smile lighting up his face. His voice echoes in my ears, too loud for me at the moment. I nod silently, motioning to the bread that I’m trying to sober up with. He laughs. “So, who is this Brian guy?”

What the hell? The alcohol must have given him an extra boost of confidence because that question was without filter, he didn’t even hesitate. I shrug in response, trying to be nonchalant. “Just a neighbour.” I stifle a giggle when I see Linda’s head pop up out of one of the seats further in front, phone against ear, eyebrows raised at Christian and I.

“Just a neighbour who gives you rides to work in a Ferrari?” he questions and I narrow my eyes at him.

“Is there a problem with that?”

He shrugs and leans back in his seat, the grin back on his face. “I’m just saying, if I had given a girl a ride to work in my Ferrari, I wouldn’t just consider her my neighbour.”

I try to divert his questioning. “Do you have a Ferrari, too?” I ask stupidly, knowing it would distract him.

He laughs. “If I had a Ferrari, I would not be here. I’d be somewhere in the Gulf of Mexico or something.” He pauses. “What does that rich bastard do for a living anyway?”

“He sells drugs,” I reply with a straight face and he looks at me, surprised. The look on his face is so ridiculous that I have to laugh. He shakes his head at me and is about to say something but he’s interrupted by the driver.

“First stop!” he calls out unenthusiastically. I look out the window and realize we’re right in front of my house. I stand abruptly and am met with such a quick head rush that I sway and put a hand to my forehead.

“You okay, London?” Linda asks from her seat. “Do you need help?”

“No, I-“

“I’ll help her,” Christian volunteers and wraps an arm around my shoulders.

Great. Though I don’t contest because it would probably be smart to have someone assist me up my walkway. He helps me with my bags and follows me out of the shuttle. The cool night air hits me, a refreshing feeling on my warm face. I head up the road to the house and feel him put his arm around my shoulders again. My eyes are drooping. Fatigue is quickly taking over my body.

“I can take it from here,” a voice cuts into the air. It’s firm with an unmistakable Southern twang. Suddenly, my eyes are wide open and I’m awake again. We both turn around to see Brian striding quickly down the road, eyes burning into Christian’s.

“Thanks dude, but I got it,” Christian replies, his voice unchanging.

Brian smiles but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “The shuttle is waiting for you, don’t want to keep everyone waiting. It’s late,” he says coolly as he takes my bags from Christian whose face hardens. Christian nods and turns to head back inside the bus.

“Have a good night, London.” He turns his head to glance at me and, probably to just piss Brian off, gives me a wink before disappearing into the shuttle.

“Let’s get you to bed,” Brian mutters beside me, looping an arm around my waist.

I glance back at the bus and see Linda staring at me from the window, eyes wide and mouth open. I press my lips together and shrug. We’re just about up the porch steps when the fatigue hits me again. My eyes feel heavy, my mind is fuzzy, and all I can comprehend is the feel of Brian’s body against mine and the smell of him.

“How much did you have to drink?” His voice is strict, almost accusing.

Stupid Asshole Neighbour. He’s worried about how much I’ve had to drink? He couldn’t even text me back to let me know he was safe. I try to push him away from me, but instead I fall into his arms. The action takes up the rest of my energy and I give in, feeling his arms catch me before I hit the ground.

She stirs in her sleep and I tense, not wanting her to wake up just yet. Watching her is surprisingly comforting… and peaceful. I sigh as she curls up closer to me, her head resting on my shoulder. I look at her and push a strand of wavy hair out of her face. She’s beautiful. The second I laid eyes on her when I’d accidently hit her with the truck door, I was taken by her eyes. They were the most intense hazel - almost green - eyes set into a petite pale face and framed by natural long and dark lashes. She had stared at me, wide-eyed and stunned, and all I wanted to do was take her hands and apologize profusely. It was as if she looked straight into my soul, knew my deepest darkest secrets. My defenses had piled up high then and I had muttered something rude before walking away.

I thought she was a tourist, someone I never expected to see ever again after that. I was flabbergasted to learn that she was my new neighbour and the emotions that had elicited confused me to no end. I was happy, excited. This wasn’t part of the plan. I should be alone, that’s why I came here. She was never part of the plan. I had never expected this woman – this fiercely independent, gorgeous, intelligent, and passionate woman – to stumble into my life. I tried to stay away – God, I tried. But the day she yelled at me something angry about a bear-safe bin, face flushed and eyes blazing into mine, all I wanted to do was grab her face and kiss her; right there, in the middle of the street.

I couldn’t stay away if I wanted to. I knew I had to stay away, but her pull is so magnetic that I’m like a moth to flame. I want her – all of her. I was able to be a downright asshole to everyone, maybe even evil at times… but with her – I can’t. It’s as if she melts that part of me.

Nobody can find out. Especially Rooney. Rooney. God, if he found out. I shudder at the violent thoughts in my head. If anything happened to her, because of me. I swallow. I can never let that happen. She stirs again and I caress her face gently with my knuckle. My heart constricts. She means so much to me, more than she could ever know. More than I could ever let her know. I softly press my lips against hers and I savor the feeling.  “I’m falling in love with you,” I whisper.

Her eyes flutter open; blue eyes burning into hazel. My beautiful London.

He’s in my dreams again. This time, I’m in his arms in the middle of a grand entryway that’s all cream, gold, and dark marble. We’re swaying back and forth and he’s whispering something inaudible. I pull back to look at him and he’s grinning down at me, blue eyes alight. He leans over, captures my lips, and I surrender to the kiss.

I open my eyes and pull away, startled to see the same blue eyes staring back at me. I put my fingers to my lips, realizing that he had actually been kissing me. I look around the room, a bit disoriented and vaguely aware of the slight pain in my head. I notice that it’s still dark outside, the room illuminated only by the moon light seeping through the open curtains.

“How are you feeling?” he asks softly, still gazing at me.

“What time is it?” I ask, my voice hoarse. He sits up and hands me a glass of water from the bedside table. I take it gratefully.

“It’s two in the morning,” he replies, taking the glass back when I’ve finished. “How are you?” he asks again, looking into my eyes.

Then it hits me. Wait. He’s here, in my bed. And I’m reminded that I’m quite pissed at him at the moment. “Why are you here?”

A look of confusion crosses his face. “What do you mean?”

“Aren’t you supposed to be in Calgary?” I move away from him. I realize that I’m in a pair of flannel pajama pants and a tank top. He had changed me! I narrow my eyes at him.

“I came back this evening.” He frowns and reaches for me. “London, what’s wrong?”

“Yeah, thanks for texting me back,” I mutter.

His mouth opens and a hint of a smile form on his lips. He’s amused?! “Baby, I’m sorry. I left my phone here and I don’t know your number by heart yet. I had no way of contacting you, but I made sure to text you as soon as I got back.” He takes my hand and kisses my knuckles. Well, that explains it. My heart melts and I kick myself mentally. “Were you worried?”

I look up at him through my lashes, embarrassed. I had overreacted. I nodded shyly and he smiles, kissing my knuckles again. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs. “I’m here now.”

I sigh and cuddle back into his arms, feeling grateful that he’s safe. He holds me and I close my eyes, breathing him in. “How was your stay?” I asked softly.

“It was okay,” he replies. “Hung out with Nick and Kevin.”

“How was that?”

He shrugs. “Good…” he trails off. “I sent the Ferrari back.”

“Why? I liked that car.”

“I know you hate the idea of me driving in it during winter,” he replies simply.

I look up at him, surprised. “So… you gave up your toy, for me?”

He smiles. “It’s just materialistic stuff. Besides, I bought a new Range Rover for the drive back.”

I shake my head. “So this is how the other side lives.”

He laughs and in a very unpredictable Brian-like manner, turns serious again. “I don’t like that Christian guy. There’s something about him.”

I roll my eyes at him. “Brian, you’re not my boyfriend.”

He sighs. “I know, it’s just…” He pauses then shakes his head. “Nevermind.”

“I don’t even know what we are,” I mutter and I feel that strange constriction in my heart again. He tenses and I know it’s a sensitive topic for him.

“We’re just...” He takes a deep breath. “I’m here for you, London. We’re friends-“

“With benefits,” I cut in.

“… With benefits,” he agrees slowly. “But, in a way that I don’t treat you like just a booty call. Believe it or not, I do care about you. We just don’t have a conventional relationship. If that makes sense.”

Truthfully, it doesn’t make sense to me. I’ve never been in a type of relationship like this; all of my relationships have been that conventional boyfriend-girlfriend type. Maybe he has, given that he is one of the most famous people in music right now, and maybe he’s used to it. My stomach turns at the thought. I let it go and my thoughts drift off as I fall back into a dreamless sleep.

When I wake, it’s almost noon and the sun is shining. My headache is gone and I feel well rested and energized. Brian is still fast asleep beside me, mouth open and snoring. I stifle a giggle as I untangle myself from his warm body and make my way to the kitchen. Bronx is there waiting by the door and I pet him good morning before letting him out into the backyard. I fill his water and food bowl before washing my hands and getting started on a late breakfast.

I decide to make one of my favourites; banana pecan pancakes made with whole wheat flour, turkey bacon, and a spinach and mushroom egg white omelette. I’m just pouring the pancake batter onto the pan when I feel an arm wrap around my waist.

“Brian!” I squeal as he tickles my neck with his stubble.

“London,” he breathes and I feel a shiver run down my spine. The things that this man makes me feel. He’s in grey boxer shorts with no shirt on, revealing a firm chest and chiseled abs. I blush. He really is quite good looking. “Making me breakfast, I see. Good girl.” He slaps my behind and I gasp. He grins at me and I narrow my eyes at him.

“Who said I was making you some?” I tease back. “I’m hungry.”

“It’s okay, I can eat later.” He winks and grabs my waist, pressing his manhood against my butt.

“Brian!” I raise the spatula at him and he laughs. “You can get started on the omelets.” I point to the mushrooms and spinach on the counter that still need to be cut.

“Putting your guest to work?” His tone is still light as he takes a knife and begins cutting the mushrooms.

I glance at him, smirk, and give him the sexiest wink I can muster. “Good boy.”

Two empty plates sit on the coffee table in front of us. We’re both sprawled on the couch, watching reruns of Friends while Bronx paws at a toy basketball. This day off is much needed; my aching muscles welcoming the relaxation. I laugh loudly at a scene with Ross and Chandler, startling Bronx who stares at me with his ears up. I’m completely at ease, wanting to stay in this position for at least a few more hours.

“I love Ross,” I chuckle and glance over at Brian. He’s gazing at me in a way that I’ve never seen before; eyes bright and a small smile on his face. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I like seeing you laugh.”

I raise my eyebrows at him. “Cheesy Brian, that’s a first!” I joke and he rolls his eyes at me.

“No, I’m serious!” He gets up then and pounces on me, putting his weight on his elbows. He gives me a dazzling grin that takes my breath away before swooping down to blow on my neck. I laugh and try to fight him off.

“Stop!” I breathe. “I hate getting tickled!” I giggle uncontrollably as his fingers find my sides and tears of laughter spring to my eyes. He stops suddenly and pulls back.

“I love that sound.”

I look up at him, my brows furrowed. What is with him today? He’s been so… affectionate since last night. He leans down and kisses me, lips all soft and needing. I breathe in his familiar smell and I feel the pulse in my groin. I want this man. My arms lace around his neck and I deepen the kiss, pushing my tongue into his mouth. He groans in response and soon I’m on top of him, biting at his bottom lip.

“London,” he breathes, cupping my behind as I grind on his erection. “Fuck.”

I’m kissing the tender skin on his neck, up to his ear and nip at the lobe. This puts him into overdrive and suddenly, he’s grabbing at my clothes, tugging them off of me. I’m just in my panties and he leans up to suck each nipple. Throwing my head back, I moan and grab at his hair. Pulling back from him, I make my way down his body and take his boxer briefs with my teeth. He’s looking down at me, eyes hooded with desire and lips slightly parted. I tug and his manhood is exposed, hard and throbbing, the tip pink and oozing pre-cum. I lick my lips, still holding his gaze and trace the veins of his cock with my tongue. He moans his appreciation when I lick the pre-ejaculation from the tip before taking a firm hold of his erection with my right hand. I begin slow and teasing, making him squirm before I pick up the pace. His breathing becomes ragged and I feel the wetness build in my groin. I feel his body tensing and I release him from mouth and take my position on top of him. Sliding my panties to one side, I slide myself down and let out a loud moan as he fills me up.

“Unh, Brian!” I call out as he takes a firm grip of my hips and begins to thrust up in a manic pace.

“London,” he moans as I meet his every thrust, my hands on his chest. “Yes, baby!”

I feel the tightening in my abdomen and my clit twitches as I release all over him with a loud cry of pleasure, screaming his name as I do. He holds me still as his orgasm consumes him soon after, his face scrunched as he empties his load inside of me. He thrusts in one last time before releasing his grip on my waist and I fall onto his chest, out of breath.

He traces lazy circles around my back as I listen to his heart beat slow down. “Baby, you surprise me every day,” he murmurs and kisses the top of my head. I look up at him and smile.

You have no idea, Brian Littrell, how much you’ve taken me by surprise.

It takes us about another hour before we finally peel ourselves from each other and leave the couch. We agree on spending the day in town and I can’t help the excitement build in my chest at the thought. I’ve never spent a full day with Brian until now. It feels almost… comforting. I stop my thoughts before they wander somewhere dangerously close to something more than “physical” and hop into the shower. Brian had run back to his house to get ready, giving me a quick peck on the lips before he did. There’s something different about him today; something I can’t put my finger on.

I stare at myself in the mirror as I blow dry my hair. I have my Dad’s hazel eyes. My Dad. I suddenly miss him and a bubble of excitement grows in my stomach at the thought of going home in a couple of weeks for Christmas vacation. I admire my Dad’s attitude about life; even after my Mom passed away, he just bursts with joy and excitement. In fact, he kind of reminds me of Mark, which is probably why I’m so fond of my boss. He’s retired now, my Dad, and usually spends his days fishing in Florida where he bought a vacation home after he remarried five years ago. I like Karen – she takes care of my Dad well and has a daughter and a son of her own, both in their thirties.

My mind wanders back to Brian and I frown at the thought of him ever meeting my Dad. Brian’s a nice guy, I’m sure he’ll have no problem getting along with my Dad – but what would I introduce him as, if ever they had the opportunity to meet? I contemplate this for a minute. My Dad would know what’s going on, and he would give me a lecture about morals and believing in conventional relationships that lead to the sanctity of marriage and the works. I sigh. Yes, that’s what my Dad would do. I grew up in a household that values the idea of man-and-wife, loyalty, faithfulness, not just sex. But, then again, Brian had a similar upbringing, from what I’ve learned. So why…

I close my eyes, shaking the thoughts out of my head. You’re going to make yourself go crazy wondering, London. Besides, hadn’t I agreed to this when I kissed him that night of the snowstorm? Isn’t this what it’s all about? Relationship or not, I’m simply content that he’s here.  I finish getting ready; throwing on a pair of dark jeans, black knee high riding boots, and a light olive green v-neck sweater. I’m just putting on my jacket and a cream scarf when I hear a knock at the front door.

That bubble of excitement comes up again and I go to open the door, a grin on my face. My grin falters when I see that it’s not a pair of blue eyes staring at me but large green ones, with a head of bouncy auburn hair. “L?” I say, surprised and she hugs me.

“Hey babes! Guess who’s in town?” She grins and moves aside and I see Renald climbing out of his truck.

“I thought you had work today?” I ask, trying to keep my voice steady.

She shook her head. “Switched it with someone,” she replies. “So we get to spend the day with you!” Renald skips up the walkway and is by her side two seconds later, beaming up at me.

“How’s it going, London?” he greets and I give him a hug, genuinely glad to see him.

He’s a perfect mix of Canadian, which means he’s a mix of everything you can imagine; German, Chinese, Filipino, and Italian… or is it Puerto Rican? It seems to change every time I see him. He’s a good looking guy – jet black spiky hair, light hazel eyes, slight freckles, and a medium build about the same as Brian’s. Brian! Shit. As if on cue, I see him walk out of his house. He sees Linda and Renald on my porch and walks towards us warily. I’m not sure how he’ll react; actually, I haven’t really seen Brian interact with other people aside from Nick and that was… well-

“Hey,” he greets cautiously as he approaches, hands in his pockets and giving Linda and Renald a small smile. Is he shy? I raise my eyebrows at the thought. He’s dressed in crisp jeans, dark brown Timberland boots, and his black Canada Goose jacket that he’s left open to reveal a thick white wool sweater underneath. His hair falls in soft curls on his forehead and his eyes are as blue as ever. God, he’s gorgeous.

“Brian, this is my best friend Linda and her boyfriend, Renald,” I introduce, eyeing Linda cautiously. She raises her eyebrows at me, a knowing smile on her face and I roll my eyes. Renald immediately shakes Brian’s hand, an easy grin on his face.

“Nice to meet you, Brian.”

Brian nods, smiling. “Likewise.”

“So this is Asshole Neighbour,” Linda quips and my eyes widen at her. “I’ve heard a lot about you.” She shakes his hand and he laughs, looking up at me.

“Asshole Neighbour?”

“Well… you were,” I reply sheepishly.

He grins. “I concur.”

“So Brian, London-“ Linda turns to me. “Will this be a double date then?”

I look at Brian and see the hesitation in his eyes. “You don’t have to, Bri,” I say softly, even though the disappointment is there.

He shakes his head. “I’d love to. Besides, I promised you the whole day with Asshole Neighbour.”

He’s smiling now, the hesitation gone. Renald bursts out laughing and I give Brian a pointed look, opening the door to let Bronx out. He runs excitedly down the steps, jumping on Renald and Brian while Linda jumps back to avoid him. I run quickly into the house, grab my purse and Bronx’s leash and lock the door behind me, joining the other three who are now waiting on the sidewalk playing with Bronx.

“You know,” I say to Brian as I hook Bronx’s leash onto his collar. “I can be Asshole Neighbour, too.”

He chuckles and casually throws an arm around my shoulders as we follow behind Linda and Renald, Bronx at my right side. “Baby, who said you weren’t already?” I stick my tongue at him and he pretends to snap his teeth at it, pulling me in for a kiss. I smile to myself as he grabs my hand, looping our fingers together. Oh, I like this Brian. This feels good… normal. I sigh. I wonder how long it will last.

“Penny for your thoughts?” he murmurs, giving me a sideways glance.

“My thoughts aren’t that cheap,” I scoff, teasing him – really, I’m just trying to avoid the question.

“No, they’re priceless.” He has a cheesy grin on his face and I giggle, rolling my eyes at him.

“Smooth, Bri.”

My distraction worked; he delves into a story about a time when he was on tour in Berlin and I listen closely, half mesmerized by the fact that he’s been to so many places around the world and half admiring the different expressions on his face. Yes, I like this Brian. A lot.

Normal Brian doesn’t last very long. As we get closer to the town center, he releases my hand and instead shoves both of his hands in his jean pockets. The expression on his face goes from animated to impassive, aloof. The frustration builds inside me as we approach downtown Banff – I can barely catch up with his changing moods. I want to ask him what’s wrong but decide to let it go and enjoy the day with Linda and Renald.

“Have you guys eaten lunch?” Linda asks, turning back to glance at us. We both shake our heads and she grins. “Fondue and hot pot?”

“Please!” Brian and I exclaim at the same time and we look at each other.

“Oh, dear Lord,” Renald looks back at Brian, his eyes alight. “You’ve been hanging out with her too much. Tread carefully!”

“I wish I was warned earlier,” Brian jokes and I playfully jab his side. He grins and, just like that, it disappears and he stares straight ahead again. I sigh and ignore it.

It’s a quiet day in Banff and we’re seated at a nearly empty restaurant called The Grizzly House. The outside looks like an extravagant wood cabin with the roof exaggeratedly pointed, looking almost like a wide church steeple. The restaurant is squished right in between two modern-looking buildings; certainly an eye-catcher because of the unique exterior and large, bolded text boasting, “Steak and Cheese Fondue”.  I’ve only ever eaten here once with my Dad and Karen when they had come to visit. The place is definitely a unique experience; selling much more than just steak and cheese fondue. They also offer an array of different meats; including buffalo, frog, rattlesnake, and alligator – none of which I’ve tried, yet. During my first visit, I had laughed at the line on the menu that read, “For lovers and hedonists.” Now, it makes me blush as I look up at Linda and Renald – the lovers. And then there’s Brian and I – apparently our relationship is motivated by pleasure. How aptly titled.

The four of us are sharing two orders of the cheese fondue with bread cubes, the conversation focused on Renald’s knowledge of cheese. Brian has a lot of questions, as usual, and I’m beginning to think he purposely does this to avoid the conversation steering towards him. Nonetheless, our guests are curious about this man – this man who, after two years of me being stubbornly single, has piqued my interest.

“So, Brian, what do you do?” Renald asks casually as he finishes off another bread cube. I feel Brian shift in his seat next to me.

“I’m a musician,” he replies, his tone easy. “That’s about it,” he adds, eliciting a laugh from the three of us. “I don’t really have normal working days.”

“Renald lives on Mars, so he hasn’t heard about your group,” Linda says, swirling a bread cube in the melted white cheese.

Brian smiles, his eyes crinkling at the corner. “Well, unless he’s an adolescent girl or the mom of an adolescent girl, I’m not surprised.”

Linda and I laugh at this and Renald looks at the both of us, utterly confused. “Go on the Internet and search for a music video called Quit Playing Games With My Heart,” I tell him and Brian looks at me, surprised.

“Didn’t know you were a fan,” he teases.

“How can I not be a fan of Howie’s and Kevin’s abs?” I giggle and he narrows his eyes at me.

Linda laughs heartily, I think partly because of us and because of the dumbfounded look on Renald’s face. “This is why I refuse to live in Banff,” he mutters, shaking his head. “The mountain air must stuff all your heads with weird.”

Linda and I burst out laughing at this. “Go ride a horse,” I tease, poking fun at the fact that Calgary is known for its Western theme, cowboy hats, boots, and all.

“Or a cowboy,” Linda pipes up and we start laughing again. Renald and Brian look at each other, eyebrows raised.

“Are you sure you want to stay living here?” Renald jokes.

“You know, I contemplated that when some girl who lives across the street from me nearly murdered me over a bear-safe bin.” Brian grins as Renald laughs loudly and I scowl at the both of them.

“London would lecture somebody about that.” Renald grins at me. “She’s a nerd.”

“Did you know she graduated with honours, at the top of her class?” Linda pipes up and I flush scarlet.

“No, she never told me that,” Brian replies, glancing over at me with a small smile. “What else is she good at?”

“Oh my God,” I mutter. “Please don’t-“

“She’s a good snowboarder,” Linda replies quickly, beaming at me and I roll my eyes at her. “Flips, tricks, and everything.”

“Impressive.” Brian looks over at me again, eyes bright. “I think she’ll have to take me out on the slopes one day.”

“You mean she hasn’t already?” Renald asks, faking an appalled expression. I narrow my eyes at him; I know what they’re trying to do.

“Probably because she wants to keep you away from all of her admirers at the resort.” At this, I give Linda a look and burst out laughing.

“Oh please, you guys are ridiculous.” I poke at another bread cube and dip it in the cheese.

“I wouldn’t doubt that,” Brian murmurs and I look over at him, my face turning pink again.

“Can we stop now?” I say, exasperated and suddenly feeling shy. “I’m sure Brian knows all about admirers.”

“Yeah, didn’t you have a poster of him when you were 18?” Linda jokes and my mouth drops open.

“I did not!”

Brian puts a hand over his chest, feigning hurt. “Why not?”

“I was more into N’Sync.”

“Hey!” Brian laughs. “Be nice.”

“What are you guys talking about?” Renald is back to his dumbfounded look and we all laugh again. He shakes his head and mutters, “And I’ve only been out of the city for a couple of hours.”

We spend a good two hours at The Grizzly House, talking and laughing over a steak and seafood hot pot. Brian seems relaxed at the restaurant, even reaching for my hand and giving me the occasional squeeze. It’s when we walk back out onto the streets that his mood does a complete turn-around. Linda and Renald decided to split up with us to do some quick shopping at the mall before meeting up later in the evening, and I take this as an opportunity to talk to Brian.

“Is everything okay, Bri?” I ask as we stroll along downtown Banff, Bronx at Brian’s side.

He nods and lets out a slow breath. “Yeah,” he drawls in that Southern accent. “I’m sorry, I’m just not used to being out without security. I guess I’m paranoid.” He looks at me sheepishly and then it suddenly dawns on me.

How could I have completely disregarded the fact that, at any time, a throng of girls could come running and do some serious damage? “Oh, Brian, I’m sorry,” I reply, looking up at him. He looks straight ahead; jaw tight and eyes set. “I guess I’m so holed up here in this town that I keep forgetting the lifestyle you have outside of it. Of course, you must be a bit nervous.” I pause, contemplating. “When was the last time you were out like this?”

He smiles at my question. “In all honesty?” He goes silent for a second and seems to mull it over in his head. “I can’t remember,” he finally says and my heart constricts; with pity? Sympathy? I’m not sure.

“You’re so young, living like this.”

He nods. “It’s not as bad now, but I think the paranoia is still there. I was only 18 years old when it all started,” he says and then smiles. “I remember, in Japan, maybe two years ago, Nick and I wanted McDonald’s really bad at like 3 in the morning after a concert. We didn’t call up for security though, and it was just a quick stop a couple blocks down from our hotel. So we just went, the two of us at a twenty-four hour McDonalds.” He laughs. “Then, a group of about ten girls came in after a night of clubbing, instantly recognized us. Apparently they were at our show – they called their girlfriends and their girlfriends call their girls – and well, you can guess what happened after that.” We fall silent as I try to take this in, but it’s hard to grasp. “We got in so much shit that night.”

“Well, if it helps, the population here is mainly old people and crazy ones like Linda.”

He looks at me and his face breaks out into a grin. “How do you do that?”

I glance at him, confused. “Do what?”

He shrugs. “You just… manage to make me laugh.”

I smile and shrug, too. “No biggy.”

He lets out a sigh and puts an arm over my shoulder, stopping in front of a gift shop. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs and gives me a small smile. “You deserve better than this.” His expression is pained, genuine and he gives me a tight hug. “I care about you, London. More than I should.”

I’m lost in his blue eyes again and I feel it in my stomach. “Why?” I breathe. “Why can’t you let yourself care?”

He closes his eyes for a second and when he opens them there’s a look of frustration etched on his face. “It’s complicated,” he says quietly. “Very, very complicated. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I can take care of myself.”

“I know-“ He groans and the frown on his face deepens. “I know you can, London. But this – my life is crazy right now. I left everything to isolate myself from everyone, London, doesn’t that say anything to you?” We both go silent; blue eyes burning into hazel again. “Don’t be stubborn,” he says harshly and I wince. “I can’t. If this was another time, it would be you and I.”

At this, I tilt my chin up indignantly and glare at him. “So why keep me around? For your selfish purposes?”

He gasps. “I gave you a choice. It takes two.”

“God, you are such an asshole sometimes, you know that?” He takes his arms off my shoulder and stares at me hard. I swallow.

“You don’t have to be here, London, and you know that. You want me just as much as I want you. We both can’t deny that,” he growls, his voice quiet and filled with passion. His eyes flicker up then and in an instant, his whole demeanor changes. He tenses, expression filled with fear and horror. I whip around to see what he was looking at, but nothing is there – just a van parked across the street. He grabs my arm and ushers me quickly into the gift store.

“Bri, what-?” Bewildered, I look at him and the same expression is still there. Worry washes over me and I’m trying not to panic.

“Sir, there’s no dogs allowed in the store,” a lady in a powder blue fleece vest calls from the checkout counter.

“Sorry,” Brian mumbles and walks out with Bronx. A bell jingles as the door opens and closes and I stand there awkwardly waiting as Brian ties Bronx’s leash to a pole outside. He comes back in, face flushed but looking more relieved.

“What is going on with you?” I hiss as he leads us to the back of the gift store, pretending to look at the merchandise as he went along.

“I thought I saw somebody,” he mumbles and gives me an apologetic look.

“Who?” Who could possibly illicit so much fear in him by just spotting them on the streets?

“This is why you shouldn’t get involved with me.” He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Being with me is so dangerous for you, I’m being serious.”

“Then what? I shouldn’t be involved? Do you want me to go now?”

His eyes widen. “No, I-“

“Then what? I’m involved already, Brian! It’s not that easy.” We glare at each other and from my peripheral view I can see the lady at the counter eyeing us warily. “If you don’t want me to have anything to do with you, then I’ll go. I can-“

“No. Stop,” he whispers, his voice and eyes softening. He takes my face into his hands. “Stop.” He takes a deep breath and gives me a kiss on the lips and I feel my frustration melting. “You’re not going anywhere. I’ll keep you safe.”

And, in that moment, feeling his arms on me and smelling the familiar scent of him… I do feel safe.

“Oh, Brian,” I sigh, letting my forehead fall to his chest. “This so messed up.”

“I know, baby,” he murmurs, resting his chin on the top of my head. “And I’m sorry that it is. My life is messed up right now.”

“Tell me,” I whisper, looking up at him. My eyes are searching his, but he gives nothing away.

He shakes his head. “I can’t tell you, London.” He pauses, gazing at me for a few seconds. “But, to be fair, I’m giving you warning right now that even just being around me is dangerous for you.”

“Does Nick know about this? Does your family? Your friends?”

The pain in his eyes answers my question. “They can’t know. I’ve already told you too much.”

Before I could reply, the lady in the fleece vest interrupts us. “Can I help you with anything?” she asks and we jump back from each other, startled. She gives us a friendly but guarded look. I realize that we must look somewhat suspicious talking in hushed tones in the back of a gift shop.

Brian clears his throat. “We were just discussing which… um, crystal rock is nicer,” he replies and I have to clamp my mouth shut to keep from giggling.

At this, the lady’s face lights up instantly and she goes off into a breathless dialogue about the history of crystal rocks and what each represents. Brian widens his eyes at me when she turns away to pick one up off the shelf and I raise mine to the ceiling. “Good going,” I mouth at him and he shrugs, a sheepish grin on his face.

About forty-five minutes later, we finally step out of the gift shop. The sun is beginning to set behind the mountains and there’s a slight chill in the air. “I can’t believe you actually bought that,” I laugh, motioning to the bag in Brian’s hand that contains a large box with a very large purple and turquoise crystal rock.

“I felt bad. She was so passionate about it.” We both laugh as I untie Bronx, who is all too happy to see us.

“Sorry boy,” I murmur, giving him a scratch behind the ears. “Brian set off rock lady.”

“There you guys are!” We turn around just as Linda and Renald are walking up the street. “What is that?” She points to Brian’s bag.

“A rock,” he replies and I laugh.

She gives him a confused look before shaking her head and continuing, “We bought movies and some groceries. You guys up for a movie night in at my place?”

I look over at Brian and he looks relieved. “Sounds like a good plan,” he says with a grin. I’m guessing it’s because we’ll be indoors, away from prying eyes and apparent potential danger. I still haven’t had time to wrap my head around this. I catch him sweep a nervous glance around the streets and a tiny voice appears at the back of my head. What have I gotten myself into?

The days begin to fall into each other; each shorter than the last as winter comes full swing. Store windows, houses, and front yards are now adorned with festive Christmas lights and decorations and the air is lightly scented with freshly made gingerbread cookies and cinnamon. The air is alive with festive spirit and the town is a hustle and bustle of Christmas shoppers.

Soon, the kids are out of school and the resort is busier than ever. My days are filled and my nights… well, they’re filled with a certain blue-eyed man. Our relationship, if you could call it that, hasn’t changed much over the past couple of weeks. We’re still on “physical” terms and, somehow, I’ve grown accustomed to this fact. He still occupies my every thought and leaves me utterly confused when he shows the sweet and caring side of him – though I don’t question it. He gives little away and, at times, Asshole Neighbour still shows his face.

Two days before Christmas Eve, I find myself doing some last minute packing before an early flight to Vancouver the next day. I’m excited to see my family, eat a ton of food, and just relax and do nothing for a good week. I’m just about finished packing when I hear the doorbell ring and Bronx barking in response. I shush him and head for the door.

“It’s midnight,” is his greeting. He’s standing on my porch when I open the door; thick black sweats and a cream jacket on. His hair is unruly, curls falling across his forehead.

“You really do need a haircut,” is my reply and he grins.

“I’ll do that when I get in to LA tomorrow, ma’am.” He drawls out the last word and my heart skips a beat. “Don’t you have to be up in four hours?” He steps in and I close the door behind him.

“Yeah,” I mutter, not looking forward to an early morning wake up call. A couple of the workers at the resort are also taking the same flight to Vancouver and I’m catching a ride with them to the Calgary airport at four in the morning. Bronx comes running to greet Brian, and he reaches out a hand to pet him. That’s when I notice his other arm behind him. “What do you have in your other hand?” I ask, eyeing him warily.

He looks up at me and that grin is back. “Just a little something before you go.” He swoops his arm around and holds out a small stuffed brown bear holding a black bin – a bear-safe bin. A laugh escapes my lips as I take it from him, his eyes alight with humour. “Open the bin,” he says softly.

There’s more? I snap the small bin open and gasp when I see an even smaller turquoise box inside wrapped in a silky white bow. I take it out and my eyes widen when I see the tiny writing in black peeking out from underneath the ribbon. Tiffany and Co. “Brian! You didn’t…”

“You haven’t even opened it yet,” he laughs and helps me untie the bow.

I open the box and inside are the most exquisite pair of diamond and white gold earrings I’ve ever seen. They start off as a diamond stud, and then the thinnest material, almost invisible, hangs down to hold another larger diamond stud, and then another piece of thin material drops down to hold a third, even larger diamond. My mouth drops open as I hold them up; three-drop diamond Tiffany earrings, shining immaculately under the light.

“Brian, they’re beautiful,” I gasp, looking up at him. He’s staring at me intently, the sparkle from the diamonds catching in his blue eyes. “Thank you.”

I reach up to hug him and he takes me in his arms, holding me tighter than usual. “I’m going to miss you,” he murmurs in my hair. “Merry Christmas, London.”

“Merry Christmas, Brian.” With that, he pulls back and captures my lips in his in a kiss that takes my breath away.

-

I sink back in my seat, relieved as the plane touches down on Vancouver ground. I’m giddy with excitement to be back home, but also exhausted and ready for a much needed nap. Brian had left my house soon after he had given me my Christmas present, letting me head to bed and get some shut eye. However, I was so in awe about the gorgeous Tiffany earrings and his thoughtfulness that I had trouble sleeping. Next thing I knew, I needed to be out of bed and ready to head to Calgary with my colleagues. I dropped Bronx off at the next door neighbor’s, who usually sit for him when I’m away – he’ll be staying there until Brian gets back from LA and Kentucky where he’s spending the holidays with friends and family. I’m glad he’s spending time with his loved ones; I saw the excitement in his eyes when he told me he’s going back home for Christmas – though I also did see a look of sadness and regret. Oh, my Brian… what’s eating at you? Why won’t you let me in?

My thoughts are interrupted as passengers begin to filter out and I grab my bag from underneath the seat in front of me, grateful to stand up and stretch my legs. A few minutes later, I’m walking through two large automatic double doors and immediately spot my Dad, a head of salt and pepper hair standing at a tall six-foot-five in the crowd. His light hazel eyes crinkle up, an ear to ear grin on his face as I walk towards him. He holds out his arms and I practically run into them, hugging him tight.

“Oh, how’s my favourite little girl?” His voice is deep, familiar, comforting.

“Oh, Dad.” And in an instant, the past couple of months catch up to me; Brian, work, Christian, physical, relationships, potential stalkers, celebrity status, expensive cars, gifts, dinners  – and I nearly burst out in tears. I needed this – to be home, to have stability, to see my family. I didn’t realize how much I missed my Dad. “I’m so glad to be home,” I sniff and he pulls back to examine me.

“You need some rest and your Grandma’s white chocolate brownie!” he says and I beam at him.

“That is exactly what I need.”

A few hours later, I’m sitting in my PJs in my Dad’s house eating a hearty meal at the table. I had a good four hour nap, settled in, and was even happy to see my brothers who had come in to my room to wake me up. They’re now sitting at the table with me; eighteen year old Myles talking animatedly about graduating high school and getting accepted into the engineering program at UBC this year, and twenty-one year old Jovan who just got back from Europe on a backpacking trip. Myles is the lively one while Jovan is more reserved, quiet, and always contemplative. All of us have Dad’s eyes, but I see more of my Mom in Jovan.

Karen and Dad are in and out of the house, picking up more relatives from the airport, including Karen’s children who are spending the holidays with us this year. I can tell it’s going to be a jam packed Christmas; lots of family, and even more food. Grandma is in the kitchen already prepping to cook for tomorrow and I promised to help her and Karen grocery shop later this evening.

“Your favourite!” Grandma comes into the dining room, holding a pan of freshly made white chocolate brownie. Her white hair is pulled up in a bun and her red lipstick still intact. For someone nearing her nineties, she is young and vibrant as ever. “I didn’t bother to cut them up, because I know this whole pan will be gone,” she adds, laughing as she places the pan down and hands us each a fork. She’s a strong lady, having had six kids herself, my Dad being the youngest. Her eyes are a deep green, warm and filled with wisdom. She’s the only grandparent I know.

“Thanks, Grandma,” I say gratefully, giving her a kiss on the cheek.

“So, London, I was thinking of coming to visit sometime in February,” Jovan speaks up. His voice is its usual calm and calculated tone. “My friends and I want to hit up some ski resorts in Banff.”

“Anytime, J you are welcome to stay with me,” I reply as we dig into the brownie. A loud PING interrupts my train of thought and I realize that it’s coming from my cellphone in my sweater pocket. I reach for it and check the message, my heart jumping to my throat when I see it’s from Brian.

Hey babe, I’ve just arrived in LA. Got a haircut, just for you ;)

I can’t help the grin on my face as I text him back. Thanks for letting me know. It’s about time… the other day, Linda mistook you for Bronx!

A few seconds later, another message pops up. Ha. Ha. I can’t wait to bite that smart mouth of yours.

My stomach flips and a slow blush creeps on my face. How’s LA?

Hot. Huge difference from freezing cold Canada =P How’s Vancouver?

Rainy as usual. I’m eating a gigantic white chocolate brownie as we speak! I take a bite of brownie and look up at my brothers who are also texting away on their phones. I laugh inwardly – typical us.

I miss you.

This time, my heart drops to my stomach. Oh, he is so confusing. Before I could reply, Grandma strides back into the dining room and scolds us all off of our phones. “You barely see each other through the year and when you do, you’re all busy on your little technologies!” she exclaims. And when Grandma raises her voice, you know to stop whatever it is that you’re doing.

By early evening, Karen’s daughter Ana and her husband Mike have arrived along with their five-year old daughter Kaila who is as cute as a button. Karen’s son, Travis and his wife, Tess, along with their own brood which includes three-month old Liam and two year old Simon arrive soon after. Both of Karen’s children live in Scarborough, Ontario where they are originally from. Two of my aunts and an uncle have dropped by the house as well along with some of my cousins to help Grandma prepare. The house is packed, alive with loud and excited conversations and laughter. I feel at home and content, surrounded by loved ones.

Karen, Ana, and I are headed to Costco with a long list of grocery shopping to do. Little Kaila has tagged along and we sit in the back of my Dad’s truck as she shows me her new Ken and Barbie doll.

“They got married and had a baby!” she tells me excitedly and I laugh as she pulls out a small Sailormoon keychain, which I’m guessing is the “baby”.

“I bet she made a beautiful bride,” I say and Kaila nods enthusiastically.

“I’ve never been a flower girl,” she tells me sadly. “Auntie London, can you get married so I can be a flower girl?”

My eyes flick up to Karen who quickly glances at me with a smile on her face. “I second that question,” she replies. “Well, maybe not the flower girl part. Kaila can have that very important responsibility, hey Kaila?”

“Yes!” she squeals and claps her hand. Karen and Ana laugh as I shake my head.

“Not you guys, too,” I groan.

“We’re just pulling your leg, hun,” Karen says, her voice light. “But, you know, with all of my grandchildren, your father is wondering when he’ll have his own.”

“Tell him he has Bronx,” I joke and Ana giggles in the passenger’s seat. She’s in her mid-thirties, long blonde hair like Karen and an easy smile.

“And you didn’t even have to go through the cravings and the stretch marks!” she quips, looking back at me and I grin at her.

My phone vibrates and I instinctively reach for it in my purse. It’s a text from Brian and I realize that I haven’t texted him back in the midst of this busy day. How’s your day been, beautiful?

I smile, appreciating the simple text. I text him back. Busy! How’s yours?

Filled with business meetings and the like. What are you up to?

I look over at Kaila who is occupying herself by brushing her Barbie’s hair. “Hey Kaila, you want to take a picture with me?” I ask and her face lights up. I lean in towards her and hold my phone in front of us, snapping a quick picture. I send it to Brian with the caption: Going grocery shopping with this cutie pie!

A moment later he texts back with a picture of him and a little boy with a missing tooth. What a coincidence. Shall we hook them up?

I laugh softly. Who is that handsome boy?

It’s me, duh. I roll my eyes at this reply, grinning like a fool. The little boy beside me is a patient that I helped through my Healthy Heart Club Foundation. He just got out of surgery last night, healthy and ready to go home!

My heart swells with admiration at this. He has so many sides to him, but this side – his caring and generous side – is my favourite. The more I get to know him, the more I realize how this overrides all of his other unpredictable sides. Oh, Brian. I sigh and look out the window, my thoughts suddenly filled with a possible future with him. Then, something nags at the back of my mind and I picture another life - one that makes my heart constrict - without him. It’s the moment that I realize that it’s not just physical for me. I think I had known this a long time ago, but I had denied it. But I know, deep down, that I’m falling for Brian Littrell. Hard. The disappointment washes over me like a tidal wave; deep down, I also know that he has no plans to catch me.

The morning of Christmas Eve proves to be a beautiful one in Vancouver; not a cloud in sight and the temperature allows for just a light jacket. Being that our house is in Burnaby, I’m thankful to avoid the insane rush of last minute Christmas shoppers in downtown Vancouver and, instead, stay in to help with tonight’s dinner. I’m still a little shaken up from my revelation last night and have since tried to keep my texts with Brian short. He greeted me good morning today, letting me know that’s headed over to Kentucky this afternoon. I texted back saying good morning and that I won’t be on my phone as I’m helping with the preparations for tonight. I haven’t checked my phone since.

I’m not sure how to deal with this; do I tell him my feelings? Do I ignore it and keep this thing with Brian going? Will I get hurt? My thoughts consume me as I’m cutting up some garlic and barely hear Karen as she calls my name.

“Hellooo, Earth to London?”

I look up, startled out of my thoughts and blink at her. “Oh,” was my reply.

She laughs. “You okay, hun? You seem a little out of it today.”

I shake my head. “Um, just thinking about tonight,” I lie.

She grins. “Oh, it’ll be great! Listen, your father wants you to go to the airport with him to pick up Abbey.” Abbey is my closest cousin; we grew up together and gradated together from the same high school. She now lives in San Diego with her longtime boyfriend, Sean, where they are both real estate agents. I hadn’t realized she was coming, too. “They both decided last minute to come,” Karen informs me. “It’s a good thing they found a flight out!”

“Finally, someone who won’t tease me about finding a boyfriend!” I joke, loud enough for everyone in the kitchen to hear. My remark is followed by a slew of different responses, each arguing their case and I shake my head, smiling at them all. My crazy family; I have to say, there’s never a dull moment when we’re all together.

After washing my hands, I find my Dad outside talking to the neighbours. He grins as I approach the truck. “You ready, sweetheart?” I nod my response and we both wave bye to the old couple who lives next door. “So, London, I feel like I haven’t even carried a decent conversation with you since you’ve arrived!” he says as he pulls out of the driveway.

I smile, looking out the window at the beautiful British Columbia scenery. Vancouver really is such a beautiful place to live. “This has got to be the biggest Christmas yet,” I say and he nods in agreement.

“How are things going with you in Banff?” he asks, giving me a sideways glance.

“Oh, you know… the same old. Work, home, work, home,” I reply with a sigh.

“How’s big Bronx holdin’ up?”

“Strong as ever,” I grin and my Dad’s eyes crinkle at the corner.

“You happy?”

The question throws me off. He’s never really asked me that. I hesitate for a second. “Yeah,” I finally reply, as nonchalant as I can – though inside, thoughts of Brian flood my mind.

“You seem so distant today, London,” he says and I can hear the concern thick in his voice. “Everything okay?”

I sigh. He sees right through me. “I guess so.”

“Is it about a guy?” I pause and he doesn’t miss a beat. “All I can give you London, is that you’re a very bright and beautiful young lady. I know I’m your father and I’m supposed to be saying all of this stuff and yada yada, but I really do mean it. I just hope that whatever this boy is about, that it’s something you deserve.”

It feels like deja-vu and I’m taken back to my conversation with Linda that seems like light years away, when this all started. I swallow. “I know, Dad.” I smile at him. “I’ll be careful.”

When Abbey and Sean appear from the automatic doors, they’re both tanned, golden, and gorgeous. Abbey’s long light brown hair is in soft beach waves down her back and she’s grinning at me as she envelopes me into a huge hug. “How I’ve missed you, cousin!” she exclaims, looking me up and down. “Look at you, miss fitness and all sexy!”

I laugh. “Same goes to you, miss beach bum.” I greet Sean with a hug before looping arms with Abbey as we catch up on the last couple of years of our lives. My Dad and Sean walk behind us, deep in conversation about sailing.

“Sean and I can finally afford that condo by the beach, so we’re moving in sometime early January,” she tells me.

“That’s great! You guys getting married anytime soon so I have an excuse to lay on a beach?” I say, half joking. Her and Sean have been together since junior high days.

“We’ll get married when you find a boyfriend,” she teases and I roll my eyes at her.

“Not you too! That’s like the conversation of the year,” I say, exasperated. “Seriously! Everywhere I go.”

“Well… it has been two years.” She looks at me and her blue eyes are serious. “And I know a billion guys who would jump at the chance to date you, so it’s not like you need help in that department. Don’t you miss it, just a little?”

I sigh. Truth is… “I do,” I reply. We stop at the baggage claim and I watch as Sean gives her a warm small, putting a hand at the small of her back as we wait for their luggage. At that moment, I realize that, yes I do miss having someone there; someone to truly call mine.

Christmas Eve dinner is a circus. An absolute circus. I don’t know how we’ve managed to fit about twenty-five adults and ten kids in the house, but we have and every seat is occupied with an excited body, eating, laughing, and talking. Christmas carols are playing softly in the background and the presents under the Christmas tree have exceeded over capacity so much that we’ve had to move some to the bedrooms. By this time, I’m full of turkey, egg nog, and pecan pie and I can barely move from my spot at the kitchen table. Abbey and I are sharing fond memories of our high school days and we plan on a mini reunion with some of our old girlfriends later this week.

After dinner, we usually wait until midnight for everyone to open their presents but Karen pointed out that, because we have so many people this year, we should start early before the kids tire out and fall asleep. So, by ten o’clock, Dad is playing the role of Santa Clause and handing out presents one by one. I watch with Abbey, content filling me as I see my little cousins, nieces, and nephews, trip over themselves with happiness as each present is unwrapped. This is what this holiday is about; filled with love, family, and joy. There’s no place I would rather be at the moment. It takes about an hour to get through all of the kids and they’re sent to bed in the guest rooms before the adults start on their presents.

I laugh as Uncle Roy holds up an apron with a topless man’s torso adorning the front, ripped muscles and everything up to the neck where Uncle Roy’s head peeps up. The next present is for me and I open it to reveal my favourite candles that can only be bought at a small store on Granville St. downtown, a new robe, and a hand knitted scarf. “For the cold nights up in the mountains. Love, Grandma.” I give Grandma a big hug and a kiss on the cheek and, of course being Grandma, she gets all teary eyed on me.

Close to midnight, I notice the uncles becoming red in the face; an indication that they’ve had quite a bit of eggnog to drink. I’m enjoying their lame jokes toward each other with their wives laughing along with them when suddenly, the sound of a spoon hitting against a glass is heard. It’s Sean and he’s just grabbed everyone’s attention.

“Hey, everyone,” he announces nervously and I raise my eyebrows, looking over at Abbey who looks equally as confused as everyone else. “So, we’re down to the last present and the clock just hit midnight. I’d like to give my girlfriend a special present.”

Cat calls and whistles could be heard around the room, Uncle Roy exclaiming, “Not in the living room, kids” before Aunt Becky smacks him upside the head and Sean has to quiet everyone down again.

“This is a very special Christmas and I hope to make it a lot more special.” There’s a bright smile on his face now and he reaches in his pocket to reveal a little black box. That little black box. Everyone gasps and a hush falls over the room as he bends down on one knee in front of a very shocked Abbey. He opens the box to reveal a white gold band with a single large diamond shining at the top. “Abbey, we’ve been together since we were thirteen years old. You are my first love, my first kiss, my first date, my only love – if you would do me the honour of being my last, I promise to keep you happy for the rest of our lives. Will you marry me?”

A pregnant silence fills the room, filled with anticipation and joy ready to burst out. It takes Abbey a moment to collect herself as tears spring to her eyes, but I already know her answer. “Yes,” she breathes and the room erupts with cheers and applause. I run up to hug her and she hugs me tight.

“Congratulations! You deserve it!” I tell her and I feel a lump in my throat, genuinely happy for the both of them.

“Oh, London, thank you.” She wipes the tears that have spilled onto her cheeks. “You’ve been there through all the fights, the break ups, and you’ve been my best friend through it all.” She holds my hands in hers and looks me straight in the eye. “Please, London, I hope you find someone that makes you feel alive just as Sean has made me feel. You deserve to be happy.”

This leaves me speechless and her words hit home. I watch as the new bride-to-be is swept into the arms of her fiancé who gives her a kiss on the lips. They look… happy. My heart constricts and I close my eyes for a few seconds, wanting to get all thoughts of Brian out of my head. No, this is wrong. I can’t be thinking of him this way. Not now. As if on cue, my cellphone buzzes in my pocket and I take it out. Three messages from Brian that I haven’t replied to yet.

I hope you’re having a great time with your loved ones, babe.

Text me when you can.

And the new one. It’s already past midnight here, but I know the hour has just turned there. So, Merry Christmas baby. I wish I was there in person so I could give you a kiss. A lump forms in my throat and the feeling in my heart grows. It’s one of confusion, but also happiness at his text. Hope? It’s frustrating.

I hastily text him back. Merry Christmas to you and your family. It’s simple and gives nothing away. Not my growing feelings for him, not my hope that one day we’ll be happily together, too.

It’s just past three in the morning when I head to bed. Some of the cousins, aunts, and uncles have left to go back home and a few are still up with bottles of wine and stories to tell. I change into sweats and a baggy t-shirt, pull my hair up into a ponytail, and crawl into bed. My room hasn’t changed since I left it; the collage of my friends and I on a trip to Hawaii is still hanging above the desk. The bookshelf still holds all of my favourite books, mainly classic literature and a few textbooks from university. My graduation cap sits on the dresser in front of a framed picture of myself with my Dad, Grandma, and my two brothers. This is home. I sigh, content. It’s been a long and busy day and I want nothing more but to sleep in until late noon. I’m just about to close my eyes when my phone vibrates again. I glance at it on the bedside table and frown. What could Linda be calling me for at this time? I pick up.

“L?” I breathe into the phone.

“London!” Her voice is soft, but very awake… and very giddy. “London, you’ll never guess what!”

“Are you okay?” I ask, sitting up.

“More than okay!” she replies, the excitement in her voice increasing. “I’m engaged!” It takes a few seconds for this to sink in and I feel that same constriction in my heart. Another one? “Renald asked me to marry him!” I blink and look at the phone, shocked.

“Congrats L!” I exclaim, because I am truly happy for them. My mind goes blank as she gives me details of her engagement, and I’m trying hard to concentrate on what she is saying but my thoughts consume me. Am I truly happy for me? My Dad’s question from earlier swims around in my head and I begin to dwell on it. After a few minutes’ conversation, I say goodnight to Linda and hang up the phone.

As I finally lay my head on the pillow and close my eyes, a tear slides down my cheek. Then another. And then another. And another.

My plan to sleep in until noon is successful. The rest of the house seems to have the same plan, as it is quiet and still nearing one o’clock in the afternoon. I sit up groggily and check my phone. A text from Brian… and Christian. I open Brian’s first.

Good morning, beautiful. Hope you have a great day today.

I text him back good morning and open Christian’s message.

Hey, London. Merry Christmas! Hope you’re having a great one.

In spite of myself, I smile and text him back. Merry Christmas, Christian! How thoughtful of him.

A new message pops up right after I hit send. It’s from Brian. Boy, he’s quick. How was last night?

I’m careful with my reply again. Crazy! Filled with drunken uncles and excited kids. How was your Christmas?

I lie back down and stare up at the ceiling. Just last night I was crying over this man. I sigh, at a loss of what to do. Though right now, I want it to be the least of my worries and instead focus on having a good Christmas holiday with my family. My phone buzzes in my hand and I check the message.

My Christmas was filled with everyone being concerned about me and telling me to come home…

I sit up and stare at the message for a moment before replying. Why don’t you?

I’m not ready. It’s complicated.

I sigh, again. It’s always complicated with you, Brian. I’m diverted by the smell of eggs and bacon wafting from the kitchen downstairs and, a few seconds later, Kaila comes running into my room, holding onto Simon’s hand. “Auntie London! Wakey wakey!” she squeals and I smile at the both of them, welcoming the distraction.

The rest of the day goes by in a blur. After a late breakfast, my brothers and I squeeze into Dad’s truck and visit more family and friends around the city. I leave my cellphone at home and manage to keep Brian off my mind - for the most part. When we get home, it’s late and I have a few messages from him and a missed call from Abbey. I give her a call back and she informs me that we have a dinner date tomorrow with some of our old friends. We chat for a bit before I hang up and get ready for bed.

After I’ve changed into pajamas, I wander into the living room and find Grandma, Jovan, and Myles sitting by the fireplace with our family photo album open in front of them. I smile at the sight; this is one of my favourite parts of Christmas Day. Every year, we sit and look at pictures of my Mom, sharing memories of her and just remembering her. I take a seat beside Myles and he smiles at me, tears in his young eyes. Dad joins us a moment later and soon, we’re laughing at random stories of my mother; fond memories of growing up with her and stories of when her and Dad were younger. As I sit with my family, I can’t help but be filled with an overwhelming sense of peace and happiness. They are the perfect getaway – just what I needed to clear my head and rid me of my worries.

The next few days are busy catching up with friends and Abbey. I visit my favourite places in Vancouver, including a small restaurant called Japadog that sells the best Japanese hot dogs ever, take a drive down Stanley Park, and sit at a Starbucks overlooking the ocean. New Years Day, the day before I head back to Banff, is spent with more family and more food. I think I’ve gained about ten pounds over the holidays. I feel relaxed, refreshed, and ready to get back to the daily routine of hitting the slopes. Though I love being home, I actually start to miss work. And yes, I even start to miss Linda. I haven’t spoken to her since she called me about her engagement; actually, I haven’t spoken to anybody since Christmas day. I had purposely left my phone in my room, haven’t charged it or looked at it. I needed to get away from everything and everyone besides my family at the moment. I figured the more distance I put between Brian and I, the easier I can convince myself to get over my feelings for him. It seems to be working – I think.

On my last day in Vancouver, I’m occupied with packing up my luggage when I get a phone call. Jovan walks into my room in his usual calm demeanor and hands me the phone. “You have a call.” I take the phone from him and he walks out of my room, looking over his shoulder and raising a speculating eyebrow at me. I frown. I wonder who it could be.

“Hello?” I say, a little breathless from trying to force my suitcase closed.

“Hey.”

My heart skips a beat, drops to my stomach and then up to my throat in one second. There’s no mistaking that Southern drawl. “Hi…” I reply slowly and take a deep breath. Then a thought occurs. “How did you get my house number?”

“I have my ways,” he mutters, his tone clipped. Oh shit, he doesn’t seem too happy. “Did you fall off the face of the Earth or something?”

I try for the ignorant bit. “What do you mean?” I’m chewing on my lower lip and I’m gripping the phone to my ear. Chill out, London.

“I haven’t heard from you in four days, London. No message, no call, no nothing. What’s up with that?”

“I’ve been busy,” I murmur. It’s true, I have.

“Okay, so…” he starts slowly. “That time I went to Calgary, like two hours away from your home, and didn’t text you for a day because I actually forgot my phone, you flip out on me. But you can do the same to me and expect me not to react to that? When you have your phone with you, and I know you see your messages.”

“I haven’t seen them actually. I’ve left my phone at home and it’s now dead,” I say matter-of-factly, and quite stubbornly, I realize.

He takes a deep breath and lets it out in a sigh. “What’s wrong, London?”

“I can’t do this,” I blurt out and he goes silent.

“What?”

“This,” I say and I feel that lump in my throat again. “This is just physical, right? So why do we both feel the need to constantly check up on each other like it means something?”

He’s silent again and I know he’s thinking it over in his head. “I don’t know. I’ve never done this before,” he replies quietly.

Oh. So I was wrong. This is his first “physical” relationship, too. “It’s different,” he continues. “I don’t know where my boundaries lie, but I know that I worry about you like… like, I don’t know. Like a girlfriend.”

I close my eyes. There’s the word. “But, I’m not,” I whisper.

“What are you trying to get at?”

“I’m not your girlfriend, Brian. And you’re not my boyfriend. So this… this confuses me. You were right, people catch feelings.”

“Did you?”

I pause and I hear him take a sharp intake of breath. “So what I’m trying to get at is, that I can’t give you what you want, Brian. And as for me, I-I don’t know what I want.” My head is in a jumble of thoughts and at the moment, it’s impossible to sort through. I hadn’t expected this conversation.

“Why are you doing this to me over the phone?” His voice is a low hiss and I can tell he’s upset. “I’ll pick you up from the airport tomorrow.”

“Brian, I-“

“I’ll pick you up tomorrow,” he says again, and I know there’s no arguing when I hear the line go dead.

I shut the phone off and stare at it. What just happened? I slowly let out the breath I’d been holding and sit on the edge of my bed. Despite the heavy conversation I just had with Brian, I can’t help the fizzle of excitement growing in my belly knowing that I get to see him tomorrow. Though at the same time, I feel anxious and nervous. Why must he have this effect on me? I don’t talk to him for a few days and the minute I do, the feelings are back. I replay our conversation in my head and lie back on the bed. I’m not your girlfriend, Brian… This may be true, but physically and emotionally – I’m his.

-

I’m startled awake by a loud ring and sit up in my seat. “Ladies and gentleman, that bell indicates that the seatbelt light has turned on,” a woman’s voice announces on the intercom. “At this time, we ask that you stay seated and refrain from walking around the airplane cabin or going to the bathroom. We are now approaching Calgary International Airport for landing where the current time is 7:32pm and the weather is a cool -12 degrees celcius. If this is home, welcome back and if not, we hope that you enjoy your stay. Thank you for flying WestJet.”

As Calgary’s twinkling skyline comes into view, I begin to take deep breaths in and out. I have been nervous about seeing Brian since our conversation last night. Needless to say, I didn’t get much sleep and my last day with my family consisted of them constantly asking me what was wrong. I gave them the excuse that I hadn’t slept much – which is true. I think the only person who didn’t buy this excuse was my Dad, who had given me another lecture about making sure I only settle for what I deserve when he dropped me off at the airport.

The walk to the main gates is a long one; usually, I get impatient about this but today, I’m actually thankful for it. It gives me a chance to calm my thoughts and my nerves and prepare myself for the whirlwind that is Brian Littrell. The escalators leading to the double sliding doors come into view and I’m lost in the crowd of people who are eagerly walking faster to see their loved ones. I can now feel my heart pumping faster against my chest, echoing to my ears.

Chill out, London.

I’m at the bottom of the escalators now and the double doors open and close as people filter through. I see him - right up front and center staring back at me and my heart jumps to my throat. He looks good; dark jeans, dark brown Timberland boots, and a light trench coat. The doors close again and my eyes fall to the floor as I approach them. They open once more and I walk through. I’m standing in front of him, looking up at those impossible blue eyes. His auburn curls are slightly shorter, his sideburns clean lines, making his jaw look that much more chiseled. His lips are slightly parted as he gazes down at me. That familiar smell of body wash and musky cologne.

Oh, I’ve missed him.

“Hi,” I whisper and, just like that, his hand is tilting my chin up and his lips are on mine.

I pull back first, fully aware that we’re in a public place. My face is flushed as he gazes down at me, his jaw clenching. “How was your flight?” he murmurs softly.

“Short,” I reply and step away from him carefully. I’m wearing black high heel boots; one of my Christmas presents that I couldn’t fit into my luggage and had decided to wear instead. It’s been awhile since I’ve worn high heels and I’m almost at Brian’s height.

“You look nice.” He eyes me up and down appreciatively and I blush harder.

“How’s Bronx?” I ask as we walk toward the baggage claim area.

“He’s good. He’s at my house right now, waiting for us. We went out to Lake Louise the other day.” I realize that no man has ever really taken such good care of my dog before.

“Thank you for doing that, really Brian,” I tell him gratefully and he gives me a small smile back. We reach the baggage claim and wait patiently in the crowd for the belt to start.

“Are you hungry?”

“I’m okay right now,” I tell him. “I can probably wait until we get back to Banff.”

He nods and his jaw clenches again. I wonder what’s on his mind. Just then, out of nowhere, a young girl and her friend come up to us, a shy look on both of their faces. “Excuse me,” the blonde, shorter one speaks up, looking up at Brian timidly. “But… are-are you Brian Littrell?” She’s breathless now and her friend is slightly bouncing from foot to foot beside her.

Brian smiles at them both and nods. “Yes, I am,” he replies then adds jokingly, “but don’t tell anyone.” He gives them a wink and they start giggling nervously, looking at each other and back to Brian with the most excited grins on their faces. I’m taken aback by their reaction to merely just his presence. Brian is all boyish charm right now; something that I guessed he’s picked up in all his young years of being famous around the world.

“Oh my God, can we please get a picture with you? Please?” the taller brunette asks, her voice turning up a couple of octaves. Brian glances up at me and I smile back, reaching out my hand for the camera.

“I can take it for you girls,” I say and they’re almost jumping up and down with excitement. After I snap the picture, they shake Brian’s hand and scamper away, giggling and talking excitedly.

“Sorry about that,” he says softly, giving me a sheepish smile and I shrug it off.

“No need to be. It’s part of who you are.”

Before he could reply, another group of girls – this time four of them – come up to him, all of them talking at once. “Oh my God, you’re Brian Littrell!” they squeal excitedly, reaching out to hug him. I watch as Brian interacts with them – he’s very good; calm demeanor, humorous, and comfortable with the attention. It hits me, again, that he lives a whole other lifestyle outside of the small town living. He strikes up a short conversation, takes pictures, and signs a few random items like the back of a receipt and a library card. By this time, he’s generated quite a bit of attention from onlookers who are eyeing him speculatively, wondering why this man keeps getting approached by young girls.

“He’s so cute!” I can hear a few girls giggle and look up in time to see a few snapping pictures of him on their phone.

I shake my head. “Wow,” I breathe. “I never realized you live like this. Are you used to it?”

He nods. “Sometimes, but you can’t ever really wrap your head around the idea of fame.” The baggage belt finally starts up and he sighs heavily. “This means that one of those girls will tell their friends, who will tell their friends and so on and I can guarantee you that we won’t step out of this airport without some paparazzi outside.”

“Paparazzi?” I say, the word almost foreign to me. “In Calgary?” It seems almost humorous; a random city in Canada… with paparazzi?

He grins at me. “Oh, you’d be surprised.”

Sure enough, when we step outside there are a few photographers snapping pictures and following us to the parkade. “Hey, Brian, how’s your night?” one asks. They’re all eyeing me warily, probably wondering who the stranger lady is and why she’s with one of the members of the most famous bands out right now.

“It’s good,” he replies simply, pulling my suitcase on wheels behind us. He walks close to me, but doesn’t make body contact.

“Did you take a flight out somewhere?”

“Nope, just picked up a friend at the airport.” Somehow, the word ‘friend’ stabs at my heart but I ignore it.

“So why did you all of a sudden move to small town Banff from L.A., Brian?” The guy asking is tall, bearded, and well… downright rude. At this, Brian says nothing but just smiles politely as he leads us to a steel grey Range Rover, which I recall him mentioning that he bought after sending the Ferrari back.

“Thanks guys, have a good night,” Brian says – his subtle way of getting rid of them.

“Have a good night,” they reply simply and finally stop following us.

“Well, that can get annoying,” I mutter as he opens the passenger door for me.

He laughs softly. “You’re telling me.”

We’re cruising at a steady pace down the Queen Elizabeth Highway now, the sun completely set and only the lampposts and the moon to guide our way. The views of the mountains are looming in the distance, the stars out, and the roads empty except for a few trucks and the occasional passing car. It’s been quiet in the car since we’ve left the airport, the only sound coming from the speakers softly playing 90’s R&B. I peek occasionally at Brian who keeps his gaze straight, eyes set, and face soft. He looks so handsome.

I stare out the window and up at the stars twinkling in the sky. It’s so comforting to see something constant. “What a beautiful night,” I murmur softly, more to myself. I can tell he’s looking at me, perhaps surprised that I had said something.

“It is,” he agrees and it goes silent again for a few minutes. Though, I don’t mind the silence – it’s somehow a comfortable one despite the complicated situation between us. Finally, he speaks up again. “I’ve missed you.”

My heart constricts, probably for the millionth time since meeting him. I look at him and give him a small smile. “You’re not allowed to miss me, remember?” I reply softly and gaze out the window again.

“Why not?” He reaches for my hand and I let him take it, bringing it up to his lips. Gently, he kisses my knuckles and my stomach does cartwheels.

“That can get complicated.”

He sighs deeply. “But, I did miss you.” He pauses. “Is that a bad thing?”

I mull this question over in my head. “Depends on how you look at it, I guess.”

“Tell me how it can be a bad thing.”

I take a deep breath. “Well, for instance, missing someone would imply that you care for them in some way and enjoy their company.”

“I think we’ve at least established the fact that I care about you,” he says, giving my hand a squeeze and bringing it up to his lips again.

“See, that confuses me.”

“How so?”

“Because, we’ve agreed on physical terms. No bullshit, no lovey dovey, no caring. Yet, here you are telling me that you care about me and kissing my hand.”

He smiles against my knuckles and his slight stubble tickles my skin. “I’m not completely heartless, London. I can’t help my feelings.”

Feelings. “So that’s it then? Are you telling me that you’ve caught feelings?”

He rolls his eyes at me, exasperated. “Well if that wasn’t obvious.”

I sink into my seat, biting my lip. I’ve wanted to hear this confession for a long time now, but why is it not settling as well as I hoped it would? I pictured it to be more… I don’t know, deep and talking about being… together. “So what now?”

“I get so attached to you, London.” His voice is soft, serious. “I don’t know what to do around you. I want to show you and give you everything that I’ve got, but I… I can’t.” He whispers the last part and my heart drops to the floor. That’s it. He can’t. This can never work.

“Why?” I ask, my voice small. “I don’t understand.”

“If anything happened to you because of me.” He squeezes my hand again and brings it to his cheek. “London, I could never forgive myself. I need to keep you safe.”

“Does it make a difference, Brian?” I take my hand away and he glances at me, eyes wide and nervous. “Does it really make that much of a difference that we’re not technically together, yet here we are… together? If whatever is out there is stopping you from being in a relationship that is officially called a relationship, they sure as hell are not stopping you from everything else a relationship is supposed to be. Because this, Brian, this whole missing each other, texting each other, kissing, the sex, seeing each other every day – is that not a relationship already? Or is there some sort of unsaid policy that it’s supposed to be official before you can even call it that? It’s so confusing.” My little outburst surprises both him and I, all unspoken words laid out on the table. I have nothing to lose and I’m tired of feeling this way. I need to know.

“I want to be with you,” he says after a few seconds. “Trust me, London, if I could I would. If you’re wanting more, I can’t give you that. I’m sorry, but I’m here. I don’t know if that’s better than nothing…” he trails off and I’m left to let his words settle in.

So he can’t. That’s that. All we’ll ever be is what we are now. The thought settles the burning questions in my head, relieves me of the what-if’s, but also disappoints me like no other. There is no future with Brian Littrell, simple as that. Only the now, the now that will never change. I sigh and gaze out the window again, deep in thought. What do I want? What do I want? After the Christmas holidays, I’ve realigned my beliefs and principles. I’ve been reminded of everything that my parents have raised me to be. I want the romantic engagement, the marriage, the family, the loving household – it’s all that I know and all that my Mom would’ve wanted for me, too. My happiness lies in good family values - not this physical nonsense.

I shake the thoughts out of my head. I’m so tired of them, so sick of being left in these constant, nagging thoughts. I need to free myself, feel elated again, and bring back that sense of independence. Linda, my Dad, Karen, everyone is right – I should give love a chance. And if it’s not with Brian, then who’s to say I won’t be happy with anyone else? I manage a smile on my face and decide to let it go for now. At the moment, I just want to enjoy the rest of the drive to Banff and have a decent conversation without talking about feelings, the word ‘physical’, or anything remotely close to a relationship.

“So, how was the rest of your Christmas?” I ask and he looks at me, surprised at the change of context in the conversation.

“It was good,” he replies slowly. He’s eyeing me warily and I have to laugh.

“Just good? Brian, I don’t want to argue anymore, or whatever it is that we were doing. I just want to have a normal conversation. Is that so much to ask?”

He thinks about it for a second and then nods in agreement. “You know what London, after a holiday of record label meetings, interviews, some press, and fan encounters… a normal conversation is exactly what I need.”

20

By the time we reach Banff, it’s nearly ten o’clock and I’m feeling exhausted. All I want to do is see Bronx, crawl into bed, and get some much needed sleep after a busy Christmas holiday. Thankfully, I have the next couple of days off before getting back into the work routine.

“Do you want to get something to eat?” Brian asks as we drive through town center where a few late night restaurants are still open.

“No,” I murmur sleepily. “I’m really tired. I think I’m just going to head to bed once I get home.” He’s silent and I glance over at him.

“I really wanted to spend some time with you,” he tells me quietly, a slight frown on his face. “I’ve missed you this week.”

I feel those butterflies in my stomach again, but this time I ignore them. I need to learn how to stop giving in to this man. I need to stop giving in to this false hope of ever having something real with him. I sigh. “I’ve missed you too, Brian,” I reply and his face softens. “We’ll hang out sometime this week, yeah?” I add.

Yes, distance would be good. I feel a lump in my throat. I can already tell that it’s not the same between us and I’m trying my best for it not to break me. He doesn’t reply and stays quiet for the rest of the car ride into the neighborhood. He pulls up in front of his house and grabs my luggage from the trunk.

“Hold on, I’ll get Bronx,” he says when we’re inside my house and he’s placed the suitcase by the door. I watch as he runs across the street to his house and slide out of my high heel boots as I wait, sighing in relief. A moment later, Brian is back with Bronx who very excitedly jumps on me, making me fall back onto the couch.

“Hey, boy!” I’m laughing as Bronx licks my face enthusiastically and I give him a big hug. “Aw, I’ve missed you too.” I glance up at Brian who is standing by the doorway, observing us. He’s still quiet, almost contemplative. “Thank you again for taking care of him,” I say, standing up and walking towards him.

“I’ll call you tomorrow?” His voice is hopeful.

I nod. “Thank you for picking me up from the airport. I enjoyed our normal conversation.” I grin at him, hoping to ease this weird tension between us at the moment.

He smiles back. “Thank you for that.”

“Goodnight, Brian.” His blue eyes are burning into mine, searching. I tear my gaze away from his, trying to fight the urge to wrap my arms around his neck, tackle him to the floor and kiss him. Deep breaths.

“Goodnight, London,” he says quietly. He moves toward the door and I follow him out. He pauses suddenly and I almost bump into him. He turns to me then, eyeing me warily. “We’re okay, right?”

I frown, not knowing what he meant by that. “Yeah,” I reply with a nod. “Why wouldn’t we be?”

He gives me a small smile. “Just making sure.”

With that, he leans down to give me a sweet kiss on the lips before turning and heading out the door. I’m left standing breathless, once again, because of him.

I wake bright and early the next morning, feeling well rested and ready to start the day. I realize I have no groceries left and put that on my list of to-do’s for the day. After having a quick breakfast of oatmeal and a banana, I take Bronx out for a walk around the block, hop in the shower, and get dressed. I’m out the door by 9am, leaving Bronx at home with a bowl of food and water, and head toward town center. I’ve only been walking for about five minutes when my phone buzzes.

It’s a text from Brian. Good morning, beautiful. Any plans today?

I’m out now, going to do some grocery shopping!

He texts back a few seconds later. Need any help?

I’m okay for now, thanks Bri =) I think I need some ‘me time’ today.

Let me know if your me time requires any Bri time, too. I giggle at this and put my phone back in my bag.

The first place I stop in town is a drug store to pick up some vitamins and supplements. I haven’t been inside for more than two minutes when my phone buzzes again. But this time, it’s Christian.

Nice trench coat.

Instinctively, I turn around and, sure enough, he’s grinning at me from the other end of the aisle. He’s wearing a red and black jacket, black pants and I notice the girl at the counter ogling him. The Tom Welling resemblance hits me again – he really is quite the looker. I smile back at him, genuinely glad to see a familiar face in town.

“Hey, not working today?” I greet him with a hug and he shakes his head.

“No, I have the day off until tomorrow,” he replies. “How were your holidays?”

“It was great, lots of food!” I say with a laugh. “How was yours?”

“About the same,” he replies, mega-watt grin still on his face. “Listen, I’m just about headed out but I wanted to ask you something.” He pauses, his smile faltering slightly. “Are you busy tonight?”

Oh. It’s that kind of question. “No, not at all.”

“I was wondering if you’d like to have dinner with me?” He shifts from one foot to the other and I hesitate. “I mean, you don’t have to say yes if you really find me that repulsive.”

I laugh and gaze at him for a few seconds. The words of my father, Kate, and Linda echo in my head. Give it a chance. “Sure, why not?” I say, surprising myself. Why not go out and get to know someone? Properly.

His grin widens. “Great! How about text me your address and I’ll come pick you up at around 6?”

“Sounds good!”

“It’s a date then?”

“Yeah,” I say, matching his grin. “It’s a date.”

“I’ll see you later then, London.” He gives me one last smile then turns and heads out the door. Somehow, I feel a bubble of excitement in my stomach. Not an anxious or confusing excitement – just a simple, I-have-a-date-tonight kind of excitement. I catch myself smiling as I walk through the aisles and… well, it feels kind of nice.

Two hours later, I’ve cabbed it back home after doing quite a bit of grocery shopping. After putting the groceries away, I take Bronx out for another walk before getting started on lunch. Brian texts me a couple of times asking me how my day is going, and I text him back but am so consumed with deep cleaning the whole house after lunch that I don’t check my phone until it’s time to get ready for dinner with Christian.

Answer your door, please was the last text I received from Brian about half an hour ago. I frown at this and choose to ignore it. I’m just about done getting ready when I hear a knock on my door. I check the time - 5:30.  Well, he’s a little early. Bronx tails behind me as I go to answer the door and am surprised to see Brian standing on my porch.

“Hey,” I say, letting him in. He looks me up and down.

“Whoah, you look good,” he says with a smile. I’m wearing a black sweater dress, black sheer stockings with my new black high heeled boots, and gold accessories. My hair falls in waves around my face and I’ve put on some eyeshadow, eyeliner, masara, blush, and lipgloss. “Is this for me?” he jokes as I close the door behind him.

“I’m going out tonight,” I tell him and he follows me into the kitchen.

“Ladies night?”

Uh oh. I realize that I’m going to have to tell him about Christian sooner or later. I shake my head. “No.” I pour Bronx a bowl of food and can feel Brian staring at the back of my head.

“Who are you going out with?” I can tell he’s trying to keep his tone nonchalant but when I turn around, his gaze is scrutinizing.

I clear my throat. “Christian.” I look away from him to pour some water for Bronx and the silence from him is deafening.

“Christian?”

I square my shoulders, turn around, and look him in the eye. “Christian,” I repeat and walk past him to the bedroom. He follows.

“Like a date?”

“Yes.” I look at him and he’s frozen to the spot at the door of my bedroom.

“London, I-“ He pauses and his face scrunches up in frustration. “Why?”

“Brian.” I take a deep breath. “I’m a single adult. Am I not allowed to go on dates?”

“It’s not that, it’s just… what about us?”

“What about us?” I can’t believe he just asked that question. “Is there even us?”

“I thought you wanted more?”

“And that’s what I’m looking for, Brian!” There’s a few seconds of silence as we glare at each other, blue into hazel. “I’m looking for more!”

“With me, London,” he says, practically screaming. “With me! Us.”

“You said, Brian! You said we can’t ever be that.” My voice is rising now and I can feel the angry flush on my cheeks.

“So, just like that? You’re just leaving me hanging here? You know, you know I fucking have feelings for you and you play me out like this.”

“Play you out like what?”

“God, London, not even a warning? Not even a, ‘I think I want to start dating’? Just like that, it’s so simple for you huh?” His voice is rising with every sentence, wavering and filled with so much raw emotion that I’ve never seen from him. “I missed you for a whole fucking week, and this whole time all I’ve wanted to do was just kiss you and hold you and confess everything that I feel for you. I’ve barely seen you since you get back and you already have a date?”

My heart constricts at his words and I feel the sudden urge to cry but I fight it. “Brian, it’s one date.” I sigh and sit on the edge of my bed, trying to collect my scattered thoughts. Now he’s left me even more confused. “You act as if I’ve started a relationship with the guy.”

“Isn’t that the point?” he says, his voice suddenly quiet and hoarse. “Wanting to get to know each other, going to that level? Nobody goes on a date without some sort of hope for that.”

I take a deep breath and we’re both quiet as he takes a seat on the bed beside me. Bronx has sauntered into the room, observing our little blow up. “What were you expecting, Brian?” I ask finally, my voice quiet and I suddenly feel small. “What were you expecting out of this physical relationship of ours? That we keep it casual and completely disregard any chance of a normal relationship or happiness with anyone else?”

“I never expected you,” he replies gently. “I moved here to get away from everyone, and then you came along so unexpected and I couldn’t stay away. I never wanted this, but now I want it more than anything.” He takes a sharp intake of breath before continuing. “It’s killing me knowing that you could possibly be with someone else.”

I run a hand through my hair. This is more complicated than I thought. “Then tell me now, Brian.” I turn to him and look him dead in the eye. His are filled with anguish and my heart melts. “Tell me if there’s a chance for us and I’ll call the date off with Christian.” He regards me for a second and I see a flicker of hesitation. Disappointment washes over me, overwhelming. I stand up, frustration getting the best of me. “I can’t do this, Brian!”

“London, please.” He stands up and grabs my hand. “Please, you know my situation.”

“No, I don’t know your situation!” My voice is wavering now, ready to crack. “I don’t know why you hesitate every time we talk about this, Brian, because you keep me in the dark! You’ve never told me why and you accuse me of leaving you hanging? You’re the one who’s playing me out like this.”

“I don’t want to lose you.” His eyes are wide, nervous, pleading. “You know I want to be with you.”

“But that’s the thing, Brian. You can’t! We can’t.” I sigh in frustration. “So what’s the point of this all? What’s the point in hoping for something that will never happen?” We’re facing each other now, both trying to figure out what to do. “I’m so tired of hoping. And it hurts more than you know.”

“So what are you saying?” His voice is careful and we’re both unprepared for what I say next.

“I’m saying you’re right, this can get complicated and it just did.” I take a deep breath and my eyes don’t meet his. “So I- I think we should stop this. Whatever this is, we need to let it go before it gets even more messed up. I don’t wanna be…” I search for the words. “I don’t want to be stuck in something that has no future and take away any chance of me being actually… happy in a relationship. You and I both know that if we keep doing this, we won’t be able to stop. It’s only going to get more complicated in the long run.”

He’s silent as he takes this in, the pain not leaving his eyes. “I can’t believe you’re doing this.” He breathes out, a desperate sound and he moves past me, walking out of the bedroom. I turn to look at him and his hands are raking through his hair. I follow him out; he’s standing by the front door now. “This is what you want, London?” His eyes are so filled with emotion that I feel it in my chest; tight and suffocating.

“I think this is what’s best.” Though I’m trying to convince myself of this more than anything.

“Ok.” He reaches for the doorknob, but before he steps out, he turns back to give me a final look. “Goodbye, London.”

The click of the door closing is deafening and this hurts a hundred times more than when he had asked me to leave the first time. A sob escapes my lips and I bring my hand to my mouth, letting the tears fall freely. 

I’ve calmed down a bit after a few minutes and end up in the bathroom, gently dabbing at my face with a tissue, being careful not to ruin my makeup. Bronx nuzzles at my side; he always tries to be affectionate when he sees that I’m upset. I kneel down on the bathroom floor and put an arm around him.

“Oh, Bronx. You’re lucky you’re a dog,” I say, sniffling and he grumbles his response. Just then, the doorbell rings and, for a second, I imagine Brian running back to tell me that he’s not letting me leave and we’ll live happily ever after until I realize what time it is. Shit, Christian. I stand to my feet and quickly collect myself. Feeling flustered, I check my face in the mirror before answering the door.

Christian is standing on my porch, looking quite handsome in black slacks and a grey trench coat. Despite the rollercoaster ride of emotions I’ve just been on, I manage a smile on my face. “Hi, Christian. Just a second, I’ll just grab my purse and a jacket then I’ll be out.”

He nods and gives me his mega-watt grin. “You look great, London.”

I blush at this and disappear into my bedroom to grab my stuff. I give Bronx one last pet on the head before I head out with Christian. He drives a white pick-up truck – typical for an Albertan – and I’m reminded of the time Brian hit me with his door in a white pick-up truck. Get out of my head.

“London?”

 I snap out of it and realize that he’s been talking this whole time. “Sorry?”  God, pay attention!

“I asked if The Keg is alright with you,” he says, glancing at me quickly before looking back out onto the road.

“Oh, yes,” is my feeble reply. I feel bad that I’m being such a lame date and force my mind to focus on the present. Don’t think of Brian, don’t think of Brian. But it’s hopeless – he’s consumed my every thought.

By the time we’re seated and ordered at the restaurant, I can tell that Christian is trying very hard to strike up a conversation but my weak responses have left him quiet for a bit. Guilt strikes me and I try to make an attempt at a conversation myself.

“So, Christian… how do you like living in Banff so far?”

“It’s different,” he replies, the light from the candle in the middle of the table bouncing off his eyes. “Very different from living in a busy city like Calgary. I like it though – simple.”

I nod. “I know what you mean.” It goes quiet again and I shift uncomfortably. Great. For someone who hasn’t been on a real date in so long, I’m totally blowing it.

“Do you think you’ll ever move back out to Vancouver?” he asks.

“I do think about it sometimes, but I’ve gotten so accustomed to this lifestyle.” I play with the napkin on the table in front of me. “I love Vancouver, it’s where I grew up. But being back there for a week and experiencing the traffic and busy city life again, I craved for the peace and quiet I have here.” I also missed Brian like crazy.

“Yeah, when I was in Calgary, I was stuck in rush hour traffic and it was so foreign to me. Even though I’ve only lived here for a few months, I’ve totally forgotten how it feels like to take an hour to get to your destination in the same city.”

I laugh quietly. “Yeah.” Ugh, another feeble reply. Our food comes then and I’m grateful for the distraction. I realize that after all of the crying and emotional outburst, I’ve developed quite the appetite. My stomach rumbles at the sight of steak with sautéed mushrooms and onions.

We’re silent again for a moment as we both start on our plates. “London,” he speaks up and I look up at him mid chew. “Are you alright? I feel like there’s something bothering you.”

“Not at all,” is my instant reply, a defense mechanism that I’ve picked up trying to hide my feelings from people. I sigh and put my fork down. This isn’t fair to Christian, and I know it. “Yes.” I close my eyes for a few seconds, trying to think of what to say. “I just had a huge argument with Brian.”

“Your neighbour with the Ferrari?” He’s stopped eating now and is listening to me intently.

I nod. “Yeah… that one.”

“What happened?”

“Well, to be honest, we sort of had a thing.” And then, because I haven’t talked to anyone about Brian – not even Linda, everything spills out of me like a fountain. “Not really a thing… actually, I don’t even know what to call it but he kept saying that he can’t go any farther with me, relationship wise. He kept going on about not wanting to put me in danger and all of this stuff, but somehow I don’t buy it. It all escalated tonight when I told him that I was going on a date with you. He literally flipped out. Basically, he’s left me confused and pretty upset… and I guess, completely failing at this date because that’s all I can seem to think of.” I take a deep breath and wait for his reaction.

“Wow…” he says slowly. “Sounds like a pretty heavy emotional situation for you.”

“It is.”

“I’m sorry if I was the cause of it.”

A flood of regret suddenly washes over me and I feel even worse for Christian receiving the butt end of this whole mess. “No, Christian. I’m sorry for not even being mentally or emotionally here right now. You don’t deserve that,” I say sincerely. “Please don’t feel like you had any part of what happened tonight.”

“It sounds like a very confusing time for you.”

I nod. “It is.” I pick at my steak and let out a small sigh.

“Did he ever let you know what type of danger you were in just by associating yourself with him?” he asks.

“No. He was always just so cryptic about everything.”

“Now this guy has you all messed up.” He gazes at me, contemplating my situation. “I really hate to say this but, just because I know it would complicate things more for you and you deserve better – I don’t think you and I are a good idea.” Then he gives me a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “For now, at least.”

I’m taken by surprise at this, but I appreciate that he’s taken it into consideration. Most guys I’ve come across would take this as an opportunity to get their foot in the door and take advantage of a girl’s vulnerability. “I agree,” I say. “Thank you for understanding.”

“I’ll admit though, I’ve liked you for a while now,” he tells me with a small, shy laugh. “I mean, you’re beautiful and intelligent. I guess the timing’s just a little off.”

I smile, appreciating his honesty. “Christian, trust me when I say that if this was a few months earlier, I would be more than interested.”

“Damn. I knew I should’ve applied for summer season.”

I laugh and begin to relax a little, relieved that we had at least established common ground. “Friends?” I say, grinning and reaching out my hand to him.

“Oh, bffs girl,” he replies in a joking tone and we both laugh as we shake on it.

-       Brian’s POV

I wipe the sweat off my forehead with a towel after letting off some steam on the pull up bar. I have never completed so many angry chin ups in five minutes, but it’s at least calmed me down somewhat. I shrug on a shirt over grey sweats and chug a full bottle of water, taking a seat at the dining table and trying to calm my emotions. She’s out right now – with him. They’re probably having a grand old time, him putting the charm on her and she… she’s doesn’t even give a fuck about what we have. Or had. Whatever it was. I groan in frustration and stare at the water bottle to try and distract my thoughts from going where it shouldn’t be. Nestle Spring Water. I read, desperate for a diversion. Packaged in London, Ontario. London. London. Christian. A wave of sadness fills me and I squeeze the bottle in my hand before throwing it at the wall where it makes a small mark before cluttering to the ground.

Despite all of this – her leaving me, being out on a date with Christian – I can’t blame her. I know she deserves better than me. She knows she deserves better than me. It’s all of my fucked-upness. Jessica, Rooney – they’re to blame for this, all of this. Fuck. I want out. I need out. I slam my fist down on the dining room table, frustration and anger – white, hot anger – threatening to get the best of me. She left. My London left. I can’t kiss her, I can’t hold her, I can’t touch her… I can’t even hear her soft spoken voice or laughter; music to my ears. My heart constricts and I feel the hurt, raw and real. You don’t deserve her.

I’m pulled out of my reverie by the sound of a car parking in front of the house and a door closing shut. I stand up and walk to the window to peak out, careful not to be seen. There’s a white pick-up truck parked just across the street and my heart drops to my stomach when I see London getting out of it. Christian is at her side and they’re walking up to her porch. I swallow, trying to fight the ridiculous lump in my throat. This disgusts me, and I have the sudden urge to give him a good punch to the face. I notice my breathing going heavier as they reach her door and they stop to face each other.

Please, London. Please don’t kiss him. Please. For the sake of my already fucked up heart.

I shouldn’t look. It’s going to kill me to see what’s about to take place, this I know. But I can’t seem to pull myself away from the window. She reaches into her bag to retrieve her house keys and I momentarily panic at the thought of him being invited inside. She opens the door and walks into the house before giving Christian a final wave goodbye. Relief floods over me as the door closes and he walks down the steps, climbs into his truck, and drives away.

Oh, thank God.

There was nothing. Not even a hug, small peck on the cheeks. Nothing. Despite the hurt that I feel, I can’t help but smile at this. I know it’s a selfish thought but I don’t think my heart can handle anymore right now. To see the woman I love kiss another man would be pure torture. The woman I love. Yes… I love her.

I stare at myself in the mirror, surprised at how tired I look. My brown hair falls into waves around my face, dark shadows under my eyes which are a flat hazel – as if someone had blown out the fire in them. I don’t recognize myself and, somehow, it scares me. I had fallen asleep thinking of Brian, dreamt of him in that same room filled with lit candles, and then had woken up with him on my mind. I’m so desperate to run away from my thoughts, but I’m at a loss as to how. I run my hands over my face, trying to bring life back to my cheeks but I feel so tired that I just want to crawl back into bed and sleep for the rest of the day. However, it’s now almost evening and I’ve slept for most of the day anyway.

You are being pathetic, London. Get it together.

I look over at Bronx who sits at my feet in the bathroom, eyes holding my gaze. Even he thinks I’m being pitiful. I sigh and saunter back into the bedroom, sitting down on the bed and absentmindedly stare at the patterns on the hardwood floor. After what feels like an eternity, I finally stand up, shrug on a jacket and collect Bronx’s leash.

It’s cold outside with a light snow fall when we step out. My eyes automatically flick over to the house across the street. My heart skips when I realize he’s in his Range Rover, but he doesn’t see me as he pulls away from the curb. Oh, this hurts just seeing him. I wait on my porch until he’s driven off before heading down the block the opposite way with Bronx. The neighborhood is quiet, the smell of homemade dinner wafting from the houses. I realize I’ve yet to eat a full meal today, having only scarfed down a banana earlier.

What’s wrong with you?

At this point, I really don’t know. I’ve never felt this way before. My last break up was bad, but I wasn’t sulking around like this – and I was with the guy for 5 years! I barely even know Brian. Yet, here I am acting all depressed and I can’t seem to pull myself out of it. Beside me, Bronx is walking at a slow pace and I have to coax him to walk a little bit faster. I frown when I see that his tail is between his legs and he’s breathing heavily as we walk back towards the house.

“You okay, boy?” I ask gently, leaning down to scratch his ears. He grumbles his response before picking up pace. I sigh. Maybe my depressing mood is rubbing off on him, too.

When we get back to the house, I’m unsure of what to do with myself. Bronx goes straight for his food and water bowl and doesn’t seem to want to interact too much with me. I can’t blame him; even I want to get away from myself right now. I decide to at least fix myself up some dinner and do some laundry. A couple of hours later, the sun is just setting as I sit at the table, paying some bills and having a glass of wine when I hear paws clawing at the back door. I turn my head to see Bronx by the door, waiting to be let out. I frown. That’s strange; he never usually wants to go to the back of the house. I stand up and let him out anyway, watching as he saunters over to the farthest corner of the yard. He sits there, gazing at me and I’m even more confused about his strange behaviour. Shaking it off, I go back to the table to finish my task and pour myself another glass of wine.

It’s dark outside when I finish and Bronx shows no sign of wanting to go back inside. I stare out the window, watching him, as I wash the dishes. He’s just calmly lying down in the same place on the farthest corner of the yard, his fur gently blowing in the wind. I put the dishes away as well as the leftovers from dinner and decide on watching movies for the rest of the night. I’m looking forward to getting back to work tomorrow – I’m definitely craving some much needed time on the slopes. I open the back door to let Bronx in; surely he’s had enough fresh air by now.

“Bronx!” I call. “Come, boy.” He doesn’t move from his spot in the corner of the yard. He must be sleeping. “Bronx!” I form my mouth into a small ‘O’ and whistle, but again he doesn’t budge. I frown. There’s something wrong. I quickly throw on a pair of boots and make my way through the cold in just a light sweater, trudging through the snow until I reach him. “Bronx?” My voice is quiet, my breath coming out in white mist in front of me. I can feel my heart rate quickening against my chest as I kneel down to shake the large German Shepard in front of me. “Bronx,” I say again. “Hey, come on buddy.” He doesn’t budge and I place my hands against his back. There’s no intake of breath, no mist coming out from his nostrils. No heartbeat. His once warm body is now cold, just like the wind. I gasp and the tears are instant, burning hot against my eyes. “Bronx, come on,” I whisper shakily, but I know… I know. He’s gone.

The reality of this hits me like a ton of bricks and grief floods over me in an instant. Somehow, I manage to stand up and stumble back into the house, clutching at the walls, the chairs, the kitchen table, the couch, and finally the front door. Bronx. My best friend since I could remember. He was just a little puppy when we got him, so hyper and so full of life. Now he’s lying in my backyard, all life gone and there’s no bringing him back. I choke back a sob as I turn the doorknob and the door flies open. I’m running now, running down the porch steps, down my walkway, down the sidewalk but I don’t make it very far. The shock is unbearable. I’m vaguely aware of a set of headlights in front of me as a car stops at the curb beside me. My legs are shaking and, finally, they give out and I fall to the ground, one hand clutching my chest and the other over my mouth as I let the sobs rack my body.

A few seconds later, the driver from the stopped car comes running to me and I feel a pair of arms wrap around my cold body. Musky cologne and body wash. “Baby, baby, what’s wrong?” His voice is so comforting as the tears fall freely and I clutch on to him. Please, don’t let me go. “What happened?” His voice is thick with concern and his blue eyes are searching me, eyebrows furrowed and face flushed.

“Bronx,” I manage to gasp out, and my body is racked with another wave of uncontrollable sobs.

I can see the shock register through him. He goes silent, his face falling and he holds me tighter. “I’m sorry, baby,” he whispers, standing me up. “Let’s get you inside where it’s warm.”

I don’t know how long I’ve been sitting in front of the fireplace for, but at least I’ve stopped crying. Brian’s house is warm and the blankets around me smell of him. It’s comforting. He’s gone across the street to take care of Bronx and let me use his phone to call home and tell my family that Bronx is gone. I still can’t believe it. Bronx was my companion here – the main reason why I kept my sanity at times.

The front door opens and I turn around to see Brian walk in, stomping snow off his boots as he did. His cheeks and nose are flushed red from the cold. I realize the extent of his actions tonight; he loved Bronx too. He gives me a warm smile as he takes off his boots, jacket, and gloves before joining me on the rug. “I covered his body for now,” he tells me, taking my hands in his. “I made the phone call and someone will be picking him up tomorrow morning.” He pauses. “Are you sure you want him cremated?” I nod my response. “Ok, I’ll take care of everything.”

“Thank you,” I reply hoarsely. I wouldn’t have had it in me to make the necessary phone calls and arrangements myself.  

“How are you feeling?” he asks softly, the flames from the fire reflected in his eyes.

“Could be better.” I pause. “Could be worse, too.”

He smiles. “He had a great life. He spent it with you.” We both go silent as his expression changes and I’m staring at him, wondering if he meant anything by it but also not wanting to analyze it too much. But he’s gazing back at me with an unfathomable look in his eyes; one that takes my breath away.

“Brian-“

“London-“ We speak up at the same time and I blush, looking down at the space between us. He tilts my chin up and his gaze is so… so gentle, so caring. “Please, don’t leave me,” he whispers and I swallow, my eyes wide as I stare at this beautiful man in front of me.

I shake my head. “We can’t-“

“We can,” he insists. “I’ll keep you safe, baby.” He moves in slowly and I close my eyes, anticipating his lips on mine. They’re soft, warm, and wonderfully familiar. “Do you trust me?”

I don’t hesitate. “Yes,” I whisper and he gently bites my bottom lip. He takes my hand and laces his fingers through mine, the only sound in the room coming from the soft crackling of the fire.

“Be with me.” His voice is soft and sincere, yet urgent and needing. “Be with me, London. By my side, as my girl – my woman.”

This is happening. I stare up at him in wonder. “Are you sure? Are we just emotional right now?”

He shakes his head. “I’ve never been this sure of anything in my life.” He looks just as nervous as I am. “I need you to trust me. Let’s make this official, babe. We’ve waited long enough.” I gasp and my lips are on his, almost tackling him to the floor. This is everything that I’ve wanted; this man, right here. Just him. “We belong together,” he murmurs against my lips, taking my head in his hands. “Say yes.”

“Yes, yes.” My voice is a whisper but the words ring clear. He wraps his arms tight around my waist and kisses my face all over, a big smile on his face in between kisses. I cry out in surprise as he picks me up, stands up, and makes his way to the bedroom.

“Wait.” He pauses. “Do you want this? I don’t want to be doing this while you’re in a vulnerable state right now.”

I shake my head. “Brian, this is what I’ve wanted since I met you.”

He smiles and gives me a soft kiss on the lips before proceeding to the bedroom. Ever so gently, he places me down on the bed and crawls on top of me, putting his weight on his elbows. “I was a wreck,” he murmurs, nuzzling my neck and trailing kisses down to my collarbone. I shiver. “I can’t be without you, London.” He kisses up my neck, to my chin, my lips, and finally my forehead. “I need you,” he breathes. I can’t believe he’s saying all of this. I really hope I’m not dreaming.

“What made you change your mind?” I ask softly.

“I don’t know,” he replies. “I’m being selfish right now, London… putting you in danger like this. But I’ll never let anything happen to you. I’ll never let anyone touch you.” I lean up to kiss him, pushing my tongue in his mouth and he responds eagerly.

“You talk too much,” I whisper and he laughs softly.

Slowly, he takes off my sweater and tank top, leaving me in my bra. I help him out of his jeans and t-shirt, feeling his strong biceps and running my hands down his chest and chiseled abs. He slides my sweats down my legs and runs his hands up my thighs – I immediately feel it in my groin. He reaches a finger into my panties and pulls back to look at me, a smirk on his face.

“So ready, baby,” he murmurs, pushing a finger into me and I moan in pleasure, my hips automatically rising to meet his hands. “Shh, relax.” He pushes a second finger in and starts pumping at a steady pace. My breathing becomes heavier, my eyes closed, and lips parted slightly. He leans down and kisses me as his hands work their magic; his thumb rubbing my clit and his fingers steadily thrusting in and out.

Finally, he pulls my panties down and expertly unhooks my bra, leaving me naked and exposed for him. His eyes not leaving mine, he pulls his boxer briefs off and takes his place between my legs. I’m all worked up now, turned on as fuck, and anticipating him inside me. But, to my surprise, he takes it slow; rubbing the tip of his erection against my opening – teasing, making me even wetter. He groans as he pushes his cock into me, slowly pulls out, and then pushes back in again. “Brian. Unh, baby…” I breathe, throwing my head back. The slow teasing is killing me.

“Fuck baby, your pussy’s so wet,” he moans, pushing my legs farther apart with his. Placing both hands at the top of my inner thighs while sitting up, he begins to thrust faster, his fingers finding my clit again. The sensation of this plus his steady pumping throws me over the edge and I’m grabbing at the sheets around me, ready to burst. I open my eyes and stare into his. Blue eyes gazing down at me, bright and full of want. His tongue runs over his now red lips and he bites the bottom, cheeks flushed and hair a mess of soft curls on top of his head. Geez, he’s so sexy.

He leans forward, placing his weight back onto his elbows and slows his pace, eyes not leaving mine. He kisses me, softly and gently and doesn’t stop. This is different, at least it feels different. Usually, our sex is intense, fast, and rough. He’s taking his time tonight, savouring it – we’re making love. The realization hits me and I pull back to look into his eyes. I place my hand on his chest, tracing the outline of his faded scar from his heart surgery and feel the beat against my palm. His stomach clenches, his eyes shut, and he stops his steady thrusting. I feel him release inside me and he’s moaning softly as he does so. He rests his head on my chest, his breathing hard and his forehead sweaty. I play with the curls at the base of his neck and he relaxes, his arms around me squeezing me tighter.

“I can’t be without you either, Brian,” I whisper. I love this man. Yes, really – I love him.

I wake with a start, by myself and too warm. It was a dream. Before the disappointment hits me, I look around to find that I’m not in my bedroom. Bewildered, I let my eyes adjust and realize that I’m in Brian’s bed with only the sheets covering me. I hear footsteps in the hallway and, a few seconds later, he enters the room in only a pair of boxers.

“Hey, baby,” he says softly as he joins me in bed. “Did I wake you?”

Relief fills me and I cuddle up next to him, resting my head against his chest. “No,” I reply. “I was just looking for you.”

“I went to get a drink.” He kisses my forehead and strokes my hair gently. “Go back to sleep.”

A few minutes later, his chest is steadily rising and falling with every breath and he’s snoring softly. My eyes are closed but I can’t go back to sleep. I stare at the moon through the little crack in the curtain windows, my mind on Bronx. It hits me all over again; I’m never going to pet him, run with him on cool summer nights, cuddle against his warm body on cold winters, or feel his sloppy kisses and wet nose on my face. A lump forms in my throat and tears threaten to fall. I untangle myself from Brian, crawl out of bed, and throw on his white t-shirt and my panties. I’m not sure where to go, but I find myself in his office just down the hallway. It’s quite empty, with just a large oak table, a computer, a half-empty bookcase, and a lamp. There are also large boxes piled up in the corner that I’m guessing he hasn’t cared to unpack. I switch on the lamp and look around, somehow feeling like I’m snooping. On one wall are several framed records with an album title and picture. Best-selling albums, 13x platinum internationally, biggest hits… wow. I’ve never realized the amount of success he’s had in the entertainment industry. On the other wall are several framed pictures of him and his band mates meeting some incredibly famous people, as well as pictures of them receiving countless awards including a Grammy. He’s had such a grand life and here I am, just an ordinary girl living in a small town. The feeling is overwhelming and I have to take a seat at the large leather chair behind his desk.

He’s famous. Really famous. He’s also mind-blowingly successful and wealthy. What is he doing with me? I rest my elbows on the desk and put my chin in my hands, trying to take this all in. The pile of boxes in the corner catches my eye and, curiously, I stand to take a peek inside. They’re filled with tapes and DVDs, some labeled “In the Studio”, some labeled by year and month, by tour or album release, and I realize that they’re home videos. Curiosity gets the best of me and I pull one out, labeled “Bahamas 2000”. I fire up his computer, sign in as a guest, and put the DVD in the drive. It a little shaky, with the cameraman – Brian in this case – walking up a sidewalk lined with palm trees and lush green grass. Nick comes into view and a tattooed man in sunglasses – AJ, if I recall correctly from my teen years – is beside him.

“It’s raining,” Brian’s voice comes through and Nick turns around to look at the camera.

“It’s also really warm,” he says.

“Hopefully we don’t get blown away by a hurricane while trying to record this album,” AJ pipes up and Nick chuckles at this.

“Your skinny ass would,” he jokes and I can hear Brian laughing from behind the camera.

“I wouldn’t mind getting blown,” AJ retorts and I can’t help but laugh too as Nick and Brian burst out laughing in the video. The scene cuts and is soon replaced by all five of the boys sitting on a sofa in what appears to be a recording studio. The camera is steady, perhaps set on a tripod or table as they’re interviewed by an older blonde woman.

“So you guys are here recording a brand new album,” she says and all five men nod in unison. “Why the Bahamas?”

Kevin answers, but my eyes are fixed on Brian. He’s so… lively; someone totally different. I’ve never seen his eyes so alive and filled with humour, shoulders relaxed, and laughing wholeheartedly as he jokes around. The grin on his face is impeccable; no signs of stress, worry, or the tension that I so often see now. I sigh to myself. What happened to you, Brian? I pop in another DVD, this one just six months ago as they prepare for a new tour. That same ease is evident in the way he carries himself, meeting fans, singing to the camera, cracking jokes. He’s in his element and it tugs at my heart. He doesn’t belong here, in small town Banff. He belongs out there, where he can use his God given talent, entertain people and make them smile.

A movement by the door startles me and I look up to see him standing there, eyes filled with curiosity and head tilted to the side. “What are you doing?” he asks warily, moving around the table.

“Watching your home videos,” I reply quietly, hoping he won’t get upset.

He sighs but has a slight smile on his face, which puts me at ease. “Ah, the life of fame.” He pulls me up by the hand, sits down in the chair, and pulls me onto his lap. He wraps his arms around, resting his chin on my shoulder and I can’t believe how safe and comfortable I feel at the moment. “What have you watched so far?”

“A totally different man than I see now.” My voice is small, careful. I turn my head to look at him and his eyes are filled with sadness. “Brian… I see someone so full of life and energy in these videos. What I see in front of me is someone who seems to be under a lot of stress all the time.” I pause to let this sink in. “Please tell me… what happened to you?”

He sighs deeply and closes his eyes. “Can I ask you something?”

I shrug. “I don’t think there’s anything you can’t ask me, at this point.”

“Do you really, really want to be with me?”

“Yes,” I say without hesitation. “Haven’t we cleared that up?”

“I want to be with you too, London.” He gives me a brief kiss on the lips before continuing. “Here’s the thing… if we’re going to do this, if we’re going to be together, I need to tell you everything.” I hold my breath. This is it. “You deserve to know, especially because it could mean life or death.”

“Life or death?” I breathe. Now I’m getting nervous.

He nods slowly. “That’s the seriousness of it. If you decide to run after I tell you, I can’t blame you… and I won’t go chasing after you. In fact, maybe I’ll feel more relieved so I know that you’re safe.”

“Brian, just tell me.”

He takes a deep breath. “I’ve never told anyone this.” His voice shakes slightly. I realize this is a huge moment for him and I squeeze his hand to reassure him.

“It’s okay. It’s just us here.”

He squeezes me tightly and then he starts. “About six months ago, I met a girl named Jessica through one of the crew members. She and I hit it off pretty well and started seeing each other shortly after.” For some reason, this makes me despise the thought of him with another girl but I keep quiet. “What I didn’t know was that she was setting me up all along.” He pauses and buries his face in my neck. “I was so stupid. I didn’t even see it coming.”

“What did she do?” I’m staring at the laptop screen, the video put on mute and I watch silently as a smiling Brian fools around backstage. Carefree Brian. Not the one holding me now.

“Her father was under a lot of pressure,” he continues and I feel him shake his head. “He got himself in a mess with drugs and started owing people a lot of money. Long story short, he pissed off one of the top drug lords in America and he needed $1 million in cash.”

I gasped. “They set you up for ransom money?”

I feel him nod and I squeeze his hand, silently telling him to continue. “Only, it wasn’t that simple. When we were in Vegas, I got a call from Rooney – that’s Jessica’s dad – posing as someone who had kidnapped Jessica. They told me not to call the police because they’d find out and kill her. So, scared as I was, I managed to convince the bank to let me take out the $1 million in cash.” He pauses to take a deep breath. “When I got to the meeting place – this really sketched out place in the desert, go figure – she was there, completely fine. Even smiling.” He laughs slightly, but it’s not a humorous one. “They told me everything then; that I was used for the money, that I was such a fucking fool.” His tone is bitter and angry and my heart cries out for him. “Then, they said that they were going to kill me. Well, my survival instincts kicked in and I ran. They ran after me, Rooney and his men, but they were all much bigger. I was fast, I credit that to years of playing basketball. I managed to make it back to the car and I drove as fast I could back to the hotel with all the plans of telling security, the police, the authorities. I felt safe doing that.” He pauses again, for a long time. I turn to look at him and, to my surprise, find that his eyes are brimming with tears that he’s trying to fight back. He sniffs and tries to blink them away. This is the face of a broken man; one that I hadn’t realized was this troubled.

“What happened after, Brian?” I ask quietly, almost too afraid of the answer.

“Before – before I could even get out of the car, I get a phone call and the call display says Jessica. I answered it and it was Rooney on the other end, screaming and just straight out panicking.” He lets out a slow breath. I can tell he’s trying to regain himself. “God, I didn’t know. I didn’t know, London. If I did, I would’ve fixed it.”

I squeeze his hand, trying my best to console him though his body is shaking. “What didn’t you know? How could you have prevented all this?”

“I didn’t know that ransom money was to pay off the drug lord who had threatened to kill Rooney’s wife if he didn’t show up with the money.” His voice is filled with agony, and regret. “With all my panic, I forgot that the money was still in my trunk, so when I left, the drug lord showed up. After he saw that Rooney didn’t have the money, he killed his wife right there who was standing beside him. Point blank with a shotgun.” He lets out a sob, burying his face in my neck again. This time, I feel the warmth of his tears.

Oh, Brian. And, for the first time since I met him, I finally understand his pain.

“Rooney just kept screaming into the phone, blaming me for his wife’s death,” he continues, his voice thick with emotion. “And you know what, London? To this day, I still feel like I’m responsible for it.”

I take a sharp intake of breath and am off his lap in an instant. I’m kneeling in front of him, staring up into blue eyes filled with sadness and pain. “This is not your fault, Brian,” I tell him firmly. “Rooney got himself into that mess. You had nothing to do with it. You didn’t pull the trigger. If you knew, I believe without a doubt that you would have handed over that money and even your life to save someone else’s. You know why? Because through this cold façade, I’ve seen the goodness of your heart.” I place my hand on his chest. “Don’t blame yourself for this.”

He takes my hand and presses my knuckles against his lips, his eyes filled with so much intensity as they gaze into mine. “That’s not all, London,” he whispers and closes his eyes. “Rooney threatened that, because I’m to blame for him losing his wife, he’s going to follow my every single move. I don’t know how, but he’s managed to know what I’m doing on a daily basis. He still sends me emails from time to time, to this day, letting me know what I did that day – just so he can assure me that I am, indeed, being followed.” He swallows and rubs his forehead with one hand. “His threat over me is that if he ever finds out I’m with someone or fall in love, that person will be dead.”

I gasp and stand up, the reality of what he just said hitting me instantly. “Oh my God.” My voice is a whisper, filled with fear. “Me?”

He nods slowly. “You,” he whispers back. “This is why I moved to Banff, to get away from everyone. I figured I could stop myself from falling for someone, he’ll get bored with me and end up hurting my loved ones instead. I needed to keep everyone safe, for now at least until I figure out what to do.”

“Why don’t you tell the police?”

He shakes his head. “Too risky. The second I do that, he could have a family member shot.”

“Nobody knows about this?”

“Only you. My family and friends think I’ve gone crazy.”

“But… but how could he know?” I’m pacing now, my hand over my mouth. “This is true?”

“Every word,” he replies. “Rooney has his way of knowing everything.” He stands up and stops me from pacing by taking my face in his hands. “This is why, London. Can’t you see? This is why I’ve hesitated so much with this… to keep you safe.” He brings his lips to my forehead. “If anything happens to you, baby… I could never forgive myself.”

I shake my head. “How would he find out?” I look up at him and I know the fear in my eyes is evident as his are gazing down at me with concern. “We don’t have to make this public or obvious. It could just be us.”

He shakes his head, staring at me incredulously. “London, I would’ve expected you to run for the hills after I told you all of that; not try to plan how we could keep this a secret.” He sits me down on the couch and this time, he’s the one kneeling in front of me. “Do you want to be with me that much?”

“Do you?”

He sighs. “I’ve already put you in so much risk because of my selfishness. I can’t stay away from you. I’m sorry for all of this.”

“What would this imply?”

“You’re not scared?”

“I’m very scared.” I take a deep breath and let all of it sink in. I’m in danger just by being with him. This man… Rooney - he could find out. If he does, I’ll be dead. Instinctively, I pull back from Brian who looks at me in alarm. “I…” I don’t even know what to say.

“I understand if you want nothing to do with me.” His voice is laced with sadness. “I just want you to be safe.” He kisses my knuckles again. “Even if that means seeing you with someone else.” He swallows and the pain this causes him is evident.

I close my eyes and shake my head slightly. “I… I need to think about this,” I say quietly. “It’s just been a long day, a very emotional one and I can’t even begin to grasp all of the thoughts going on in my head.” I stand to my feet, my legs feeling like jello. “I just need to go to bed and just… take everything one day at a time. I have work tomorrow.”

“You’re going to work tomorrow?” he asks with surprise. “Why don’t you take it off?”

“No, I need to clear my head.”

He nods. “Can I take you to work tomorrow?”

I peek up at him. “Is it safe?”

“At least you’ll be with me. I want to make sure you get to work and get home safely. So, from now on, I think I should bring you and pick you up.”

I frown at this. “Wouldn’t that make things obvious?”

He sighs. “This is how it can get complicated.”

“It already is.” We’re both silent as we stare at each other, both at a loss of what to do now. “I just want to go to bed.”

“Okay,” he says quietly. “I’ll meet you in there. I’m just going to put away the videos and shut the computer down.”

I don’t say anything as I leave the room. I crawl into bed, suddenly feeling numb from the day’s events. It’s all too much to take in. First Bronx, and now this. I can’t even tell anyone about this, not Linda, not my Dad… nobody. Surely, they’ll tell me to leave and not have anything to do with this man. But I love him; that I’m sure of. But it could kill me to be with him, literally. Being stubborn me, I would try to make it work no matter what anyone says. For the first time in a long time, I feel alone and the tears come suddenly. They’re falling down my cheeks freely, and they don’t stop until sobs rack my body. I feel Brian crawl into bed behind me and he’s holding me as I cry. I turn around and bury my face into his chest, his hands rubbing my back to try to soothe me.

“This is so hard,” I sob.

“Shh, I know baby. Please don’t cry.” He pulls back to tilt my chin up and wipe the tears off my cheeks. “I’m so sorry.”

I realize that I’m not sad for me, I’m sad for him. Having this death threat put above your head, not for yourself, but for the person you care about must be too much to take in. He’s come all this way to isolate himself, just keep to everyone safe. To live a life away from your loved ones must be so lonely… and to stop yourself from caring? So I cry well into the night with him holding me close. I cry for him, for us, and for this impossible love.

When I wake the next morning, I’m oddly alert despite the tiring night I just had. I walk into the kitchen to find Brian making breakfast and I can’t help but smile. You do know that there’s an impending plan to kill you by some man you’ve never met?  I ignore my thoughts and give him a good morning kiss.

He kisses me back and narrows his eyes at me. “Why aren’t you running for the hills?” he asks, raising an eyebrow at me.

I sit on the stool at the kitchen’s island. “Can’t live life being scared,” I mutter, taking an apple from the fruit basket. “I’m a brave girl?”

He shakes his head at this and goes back to flipping the eggs in the pan. “A stubborn one,” he sighs. A moment later, breakfast is in front of me; eggs, bacon, and toast with some orange juice.

“Thank you, kind sir,” I grin at him and he winks at me. This one gesture almost sends me reeling off of the stool. I blush and keep my head down but I see his eyes on me. I peek up at him hesitantly and he has a mischievous smile on his face.

“You’re cute.” He laughs as my blush turns brighter and I look down at my food. “Eat up. You’re going to be late for work.”

-

When we get to my house, I almost break down when I see that Bronx’s body is gone. Brian informs me that he was picked up early this morning and is on the way to a crematorium in Calgary. He also tells me that he’s taken care of the bill and any other fees. His generosity and kindness is overwhelming, and I take a moment to just hug him. He holds me as I cry for Bronx, silently saying my goodbye to the best friend I grew up with.

I finally collect myself and get ready for work, my emotions numb. I’m quiet in the car and I can feel Brian’s eyes shift towards me from time to time. He takes my hand and squeezes it. “Are you sure you want to go to work today?” he asks.

I nod. “Yes,” I reply quietly. “I need to get my mind off of things.”

“Off of me? I’m sorry.”

I smile at him. “I couldn’t get you off my mind even if I tried.”

At this, his face breaks out into a grin. “You’re making me blush, Ms. Cartier.”

“Good! Now you know how I feel.”

He laughs and kisses my hand. “I’ll miss you all day, baby.”

My heart swells. I can’t believe he’s mine… finally mine. All of these months of wondering, beating around the bush, not knowing – and it’s come to this. Then, I’m reminded of last night’s events. Rooney, Jessica. I push it out of my mind. One day at a time. I at least want to enjoy this moment, even if it is short lived.

We reach Sunshine Village Resorts just when the shuttle bus approaches. I look over at Brian, not sure if I should give him a kiss goodbye in public. I know he’s thinking the same thing, so he squeezes my hand again. “I’ll be here, 4:30 on the dot,” he says and gives me a small smile.

When I get out of the car, Linda all but tackles me to the ground when she sees me. “Ohhh, I’ve missed you bestie!” she squeals and I giggle as she throws her arms around my neck. “How have you been?”

I smile weakly at her and shrug. She looks past me at Brian who is just pulling out of the drop-off curb. He waves at her and she waves back as he drives away. She raises her eyebrows at me and I shake my head, not wanting to tell her about us. Well, not really knowing if it’s safe to do so. Oh geez, a life of hiding. “Bronx passed away last night,” I tell her quietly as we walk up the steps toward the staff equipment building.

“No! Aw, I’m sorry, London.” She gives me a tight squeeze and I rest my head on her shoulder, thankful to feel the presence of a close friend.

“Can I see the ring?” I ask, wanting to lighten up the mood a little bit. My plan worked and she excitedly shows me the new diamond on her left ring finger. “You have to tell me how he did it!”

“Before I do that, I need to ask you something first,” she says and we stop walking, letting the other staff members walk past us. “London, since you moved here you’ve been one of my closest friends and confidants. You’ve been through it all with Renald and I. So, I wanted to ask you… will you be my maid of honour?”

I gasp, not expecting this at all. “Me? Really?” I ask incredulously and she nods her head excitedly. “Yeah, of course!” I can’t help the grin on my face as I give her a tight hug. “Oh, L. This is so exciting. Thank you for putting a smile on my face.” We walk arm in arm, grinning like fools. Finally, some good and exciting news.

-

The sound of wind rushing past my ears, the scrape of my snowboard against the now icy snow, the adrenaline rush as I go zooming past skiers. How I’ve missed this. I’m taking my frustrations and sorrow out with a few runs on the slopes. By the time I’m done, I’ve worked up a sweat despite the chill in the air. The snow is now coming down in large flakes, reducing the visibility up at the top of the highest run. I end up at the main lodge, warming myself up with a cup of hot chocolate. It’s almost the end of my shift and I can’t wait to get back home and spend some much needed quality time with Brian.

“Hey, friend,” a familiar voice comes up behind me. I smile up at Christian as he takes a seat in front of me.

“Hey, haven’t seen you all day,” I reply, offering him some of my hot chocolate.

He shakes his head. “No thanks.” Regarding me carefully, he touches my arm and says, “I heard about Bronx.”

I feel my heart sink and I sigh. “Yeah.”

“I’m sorry to hear, London.”

I manage a smile on my face. “I think I knew it was coming soon. He wasn’t as lively as he used to be, plus it was his time. I accept it.”

“Well, your favourite part of the day has come.”

I laugh softly. “What’s that?”

“Wreaking havoc on the ski-dos!” He grins and stands up, motioning for me to follow. “Just to cheer you up a little, let’s go have some fun!”

“You know what,” I say, standing up. “I would love to!”

By the time we get up to the highest peak, the visibility is impossible. The snow is coming down hard now, but Christian keeps going. We’ve been around the slopes a few times now, giving some people a ride back down to the main lodge safely and then coming back up to look for more people.

“Do you see anybody?” he calls out to me as we stop by the ski lifts. I squint, but it’s impossible to see anything through the snow and my snowboarding goggles. It’s eerily quiet up here; the lifts have stopped and there’s no sound but the wind.

“No!” I yell back. “Let’s head down now. I think it’s already past 4:30.”

“Wait!” he cries out suddenly and points to the left, away from the ski lift. “I see someone! They’re not supposed to be that far.” He takes off and I follow. By now, the ski-do is slightly digging into the fresh snow, which makes me nervous. These are no conditions to get stranded in. I reach for my walkie-talkie at my side and feel a little relieved knowing that it’s still there. We must’ve been riding for at least twenty minutes now, but I haven’t seen a single person.

“Christian!” I call out to him, but he doesn’t hear me. “Christian! I don’t think anyone is up here!” He continues and I have no choice but to follow. I can’t leave him up here by himself, it’s too dangerous.

We’re far from the slopes now, and I know that we’re no longer on Sunshine Village Resort properties. There are no trails, no flags, or signs to guide our way and I feel the panic rising in my throat. Okay, relax. Christian is here with you, he knows where he’s going. I can barely see him in front of me and I’m struggling to keep up. We’re up high, higher than I’ve ever been in the mountains. This is usually where all the free runners and adrenaline junkies go. It’s also Avalanche County. Finally, we stop and I’m hopeful that he’ll start going back now.

“Hold on, London,” I hear him say. “Wait here. I’m just going to look over that corner.”

What corner? But I don’t argue. “Okay,” I reply. “Hurry. It’s getting pretty dangerous up here.” He nods, looks over his shoulder at me, and then he’s off.

So I wait. And wait. And wait. After ten minutes, I’m starting to feel a little worried. No, a lot worried. There’s no sign of Christian and I have no idea where I am. I look around me – everything is white. Just pure white. No sign of anyone or anything. I swallow, feeling my breath quicken and my heart rate spike up. Then I see him, a silhouette on a ski-do. He’s racing back down the mountain and I stand up, squinting. He’s becoming a tiny black dot now.

“Christian!” I scream out and jump off the ski-do, running down the mountain. But I know it’s hopeless. He’s gone. “Oh my God,” I breathe and collapse on my knees into the snow. He left me here. That motherfucker. I stand up and look around me, not knowing what to do. I reach for my walkie-talkie and turn it on. Nothing but static. “Hello?” I call into the mouthpiece. “Can anybody hear me?” It crackles and dies and I throw it, frustrated. What the fuck do I do now.

I guess the smart thing to do would be to ride down the mountain as fast as I can and at least try to find my way back. I turn around and start making my way back to the ski-do. I’m a few feet away from it when, suddenly, I hear a loud ticking. I stop and stare. What could that be? A few seconds later, a blast echoes in my ear and I’m blown back a few feet onto my back. The soft snow breaks my fall and I scramble frantically onto my knees. My mouth drops open at the sight in front of me. The snowmobile is now up in flames, completely unrecognizable. The emergency backpack kit that is included is sitting just a foot in front of me, completely blown to pieces.

What. The. Fuck?

Panic has completely set in. I stand to my feet and look frantically around me, throwing off my snowboarding goggles, though it doesn’t help one bit. My chest rises and falls rapidly as my heart rate spikes up about a hundred notches. What do I do, what do I do? In my panicked state, I try to run down the mountain but fall on my behind into the snow, sliding down as I do so. Ok, that did nothing for me. I sit there, my hand to my chest and try to calm my breathing down.

Stop panicking. I tell myself. I take a deep breath and let it out slowly. I do this again and again until my breathing and heart rate goes back to normal. I put my head in my hands and try to think of what to do. Ok, what did I learn during survival training? Use your emergency kit. Well, I’m out of luck there. No walkie-talkie, no means to get back down the mountain but walk. Except that will take up too much energy, which I will need to survive. Look for shelter. I look around me. White, desolate… nothing. I’m gonna die. Panic threatens to set in again but I fight it. No, you’re not going to die. Just find somewhere, anywhere until the snow stops. Then it dawns on me that someone will figure out that I’m missing and come looking for me, eventually. Though, not in these conditions. The snow needs to stop first.

I look behind me at the fire that used to be my snowmobile. Well, that’s a start. I make my way back towards it and sit not too far from it, the heat from the fire warming me up – for now, at least. I’m not sure how much time I have before the snow puts it out. My stomach grumbles and I realize I haven’t eaten since breakfast, having used my lunch hour to do some runs on the mountain. I wonder what time it is – judging from the slowly setting sun it’s reaching about 6pm. Brian must be worried looking for me. Brian!

I completely forgot. Hurriedly, I reach for my cellphone inside my inner jacket pocket. It’s there! Oh, thank God. I flip it open, excited for some connection to civilization but I’m disappointed when I see that there’s no signal up here. However, sure enough, there are a few messages and missed calls from Brian, Linda, and Mark. I open them one by one.

Head back to the main lodge soon, no one else is up there. That one was from Mark.

Baby, I’m here. Take your time. My heart skips – Brian.

Hey, lover boy is waiting for you at the main lodge. Where are you and Christian? Linda.

Baby, where are you? Everyone is looking for the two of you.

Another one from Linda. Okay, I just saw Christian leave really fast and drive away. You’re still not here. London, I’m not joking, where are you??

Answer your phone! Are you okay? The last one is from Mark.

There are about a dozen missed calls from each of them and I regret not remembering that I had my phone on silent with me all along. I stand to my feet and raise the phone up to the sky, trying to get any form of signal, though I know it’s hopeless up here. I take a few steps forward, back, to the side. Still no signal. I do this for a few more minutes and am just a few feet away from the fire when I get one little bar on the signal line. I’m bursting with excitement as I hurriedly dial Brian’s number, my frozen fingers not pressing the buttons fast enough.

He answers on the first ring. “Baby!” His voice is filled with relief and panic all in one. “Where the fuck are you? Are you okay? Where are you?”

“I’m stranded up in the mountains!” The other line crackles. Shit, I’m losing signal fast. “I’m okay, I just don’t know where I am.”

“Fuck!” I hear a few voices in the background, one of them belonging to Linda. “Listen baby, sit tight okay?” His voice starts to cut out. “We’re… main lodge, we’re trying to get a heli- … conditions are too bad… visibility… so worried… I-“

Just like that, his voice is gone. I look at my phone; no signal. Fuck! I try walking again, angling my phone this way and that but to no avail. It’s hopeless. Sighing heavily, I go back to my spot in front of the now dying fire… and wait.

-

The snow doesn’t let up for at least a couple of hours, or so I’m guessing. It’s feeling like an eternity, especially after the fire has completely died out. I’m now trying to warm myself up by burying my face inside my jacket and covering every inch of my body. But I’m shaking from the cold, hungry, and wondering if anybody will ever find me. Finally, it’s stopped snowing and I begin to make my way down the mountain by foot. It would still be a while until they circle around and find me, and I don’t want to sit and freeze until they do.

I look out, trying to find any sign of civilization; a ski resort, a lodge, even a ski lift that may lead to something… but there’s absolutely nothing. How did I get here? What was Christian trying to do? These thoughts give me a headache and I decide to push them out and focus on the task at hand. I must have been walking for an hour, face and fingers frozen, when I finally hear the comforting hum of a helicopter nearing. Oh, thank God.

I look up and there it is; a little black dot in the sky coming closer and closer. I feel an overwhelming sense of relief wash over me and, suddenly, the day’s events catch up to me. Everything catches up to me. Losing Bronx, learning about the death threat put on me, not having enough sleep, not having any food in my body, the snowmobile blowing up, freezing, waiting, walking. I am exhausted and my legs give out. And all I can hear is the helicopter getting closer and closer as I fall to the ground and everything goes black.

-

My head is pounding and there are so many voices around me. I struggle to open my eyes. Everything is a blur; people moving about, pacing, leaving the room, and coming back in. Though there is one constant silhouette beside me who doesn’t move at all. I try to focus my eyes and realize that my hand is inside someone else’s. My surroundings are no longer blurry, and I’m looking into a pair of impossible blue eyes.

“You’re awake!” he breathes and instantly brings my hands to his lips. “Oh, baby… I was so worried.”

“Hi,” I reply hoarsely, my throat dry. “Water…”

He immediately takes a glass of water from the bedside table and helps me sit up. It feels cool and refreshing as I drink. “How are you feeling?” he asks softly, putting the glass back when I’m done. I lay back down, the throbbing in my head not going away.

“Like shit,” I say and he gives me a small smile that doesn’t reach his eyes.

“I was so worried,” he whispers and kisses my forehead. “I was going out of my mind-“

He’s interrupted by a familiar voice. Linda. “She’s awake!” And she’s at my side not a few seconds later, fussing over me.

“I’m okay, I’m okay,” I mutter, trying to calm her down. “What happened?”

“Well, Christian led you to God knows where up in the mountains, way into the danger zone. He then left you there, ran away, and we haven’t heard from the bastard since,” she says all in one breath.

“Oh.”

“You fainted, sweetie,” Brian murmurs and kisses my hand again. “You’ve been out for a couple of hours. You’re in the medical room at the main lodge.”  

“God, I am going to kill that motherfucker if I ever see him again!” she exclaims and it takes me a moment to realize that she’s talking about Christian.

“What happened?” I ask and catch her and Brian make eye contact.

“Detective Brady will explain everything, hun,” is Brian’s reply. Whoah, detective? Sounds serious. “For now, is there anything that you’d like?”

My stomach grumbles then. “Yes. I’m really hungry.”

He stands up right away. “Okay, I’ll get you food.” He gives me a kiss on the forehead and murmurs, “Be right back, baby.”

“Geez, that man is really good to you,” Linda says when he walks out the door.

I smile, despite the situation I’m in. “I’m very lucky.”

Just then, the nurse comes in to check my vitals and I’m too preoccupied with her to ask any more questions. Somehow, I’m thinking ignorance is bliss right now. I have a strong feeling I know what all of this is about, and I’m not looking forward to my assumptions being confirmed.

Brian comes back a few minutes later with a turkey sandwhich, broccoli and cheese soup, and a banana. “It’s all I could manage to find in the cafeteria,” he says apologetically.

“Baby, this is more than enough,” I reassure him. “Thank you for being here.”

He takes a seat beside the bed and gives me a sad look. “I’m so sorry for all of this,” he whispers, running his thumb down my jawline.

I frown at him. “Why are you sorry? This isn’t your fault.”

He sighs and stays quiet as I unwrap the turkey sandwich and dig in, my stomach grumbling with appreciation. “I just keep thinking… what if you hadn’t jumped off the snowmobile?”

I shake my head. “But, I did. Everything happens for a reason and there’s a reason I’m still here,” I tell him.

He glares at me, eyes so intense it makes me a little nervous. “You are so stubborn you know that?” he growls softly.

Before I could reply, a tall, dark man in a crisp grey suit walks into the room. He’s all business, clean cut, and with slight bags under his eyes. “Ms. Cartier, I’m Detective Brady O’Connor,” he introduces himself and shakes hands with the both of us.

I immediately sit up, all appetite gone. “It’s nice to meet you, Detective,” I reply and glance nervously at Brian. He gives me a reassuring smile back, but that telltale sadness is still evident in his blue eyes.

“I’m sure you have a lot of questions for me, Ms. Cartier.”

I nod and rack my brain, trying to decide where to start. “Well… first of all, where is Christian?”

“He’s fled,” he replies, rubbing his forehead. “He left his work pass here, returned all equipment, and he left without a word to anyone. We checked out the place he was staying at, but he’d packed up all his belongings already. My strongest guess would be that he’s hopped on a plane and headed south of the border.”

“But why?” I breathe. “He tried to kill me.”

Detective Brady sighs and pulls up a chair. “That he did.” He takes a deep breath before continuing. “When we pulled up his file, we immediately discovered that he works for a man named Rooney.”

All the blood drains from my face and I gasp, wide eyed and look over at Brian. He doesn’t look at me, but down at his hands; face solemn and brows furrowed. “R-Rooney?” I manage to whisper.

“Yes. Upon questioning Mr. Littrell if he knew of any Rooney, he told us the whole story which you know about Ms. Cartier, do you not?”

I nod, swallowing. I can’t seem to find my voice.

“Christian, whose real name is Ben Puccioni, was hired by Rooney years ago to be one of his men taking care of his drug trades here in Canada. Rooney is wanted in pretty much every city, but the man is good. He has never been caught with any hard evidence good enough to take him to jail. Mr. Puccioni, or Christian as you call him, was instructed to move here to keep an eye on Brian but was given the order to have you killed soon after you and Brian started a relationship.”

“Very soon,” I whisper, more to myself than to either of them.

“Obviously, he was unsuccessful at it. Now that we know about Brian’s situation, which he should have come forward with from day one, I have taken the necessary action to inform the security team for his band mates as well as adding security for his close loved ones.” Detective Brady leans in, place his elbows on his knees and interlocking his fingers together. He looks at me, regarding me carefully. “The only thing is, Ms. Cartier, I don’t think that there is any impending harm towards his friends or family specifically. I know how Rooney works, he keeps his word… down to a tee. So the one thing that is of concern to me is your safety.”

“So what would that imply?” I ask quietly.

“As a professional who has done this for many, many years, Ms. Cartier, I could only suggest one thing. Mr. Littrell is safe as he can be, though I can tell you that his phone is tapped and now yours is tapped as well. Rooney has no plans to kill Mr. Littrell, no. He only seeks revenge, to make him feel the loss he did when he unfortunately lost his wife. I suggest that Mr. Littrell go back to his previous lifestyle as this would require him to be on tour, travel, and so he’ll be around many people along with security. This puts him in a much safer zone than he is here in Banff. Rooney doesn’t like an audience – too many witnesses. He’s very careful to avoid anything with a lot of people. Brian is safer out there, with the fame and the constant attention, than he is here.”

“And me?” My voice is tiny. I know the answer before he even says it, but it crushes me anyway as the words leave his mouth.

“I suggest separating with Mr. Littrell - at least for the time being until we catch Rooney and have him locked behind bars. This would mean going back home to Vancouver, Ms. Cartier. We’ll be setting up the appropriate security for you so that nothing will happen to you during this time. We believe that if you separate with Mr. Littrell, it will be the safest route for the both of you.”

I take a slow breath in, trying to process this. “And how long will this be?”

He gives me a small apologetic shrug. “It could be days, weeks… months. We really don’t know until we start getting good leads on Rooney.”

Months? I glance over at Brian, whose eyes are still downcast, not making contact with me. “Brian?” I whisper.

He looks up at me and the look in his eyes makes my heart drop to my stomach. “He’s right, London,” he says finally. “We shouldn’t be together.”

My eyes burn into his, not believing what I just heard. Finally, we’ve made it official and it lasts for barely twenty-four hours? He looks away from me and casts his eyes back downward. Detective Brady clears his throat beside me. “I’ll give you two some privacy,” he mutters and walks swiftly out of the room.

“Brian,” I say, my voice hard. “Brian, look at me.”

He looks up, the same pained expression in his eyes. “I’m sorry,” is all he can whisper.

“You’re sorry?” I shake my head, the tears threatening to fall.

“This is for you, London. For your safety. I can’t let anything happen to you.” He swallows and stands up. “God, it almost already did! All because of my selfishness, because I wanted to be with you so bad I completely disregarded everything else.”

“So you think me going back home to Vancouver and you jetting off around the world is going to keep me safe?” I sit up and throw my legs over the side of the bed, wanting to stand up but he stops me.

“Sit. You need to rest,” he says strictly. I can’t believe he’s bossing me around like this while we’re having this discussion.

“You have no idea, do you?” My voice comes in a whisper, the lump in my throat forming. “I’m scared for my life. Now I’m supposed to stay in solitude back home?”

His face falls and I’m nervous that he’s about to cry. “Don’t be scared. I won’t let anything happen to you. You’ll have your family, London. Where you should be. Safe.” He takes my face in his hands, staring into my eyes intently. “Baby, I’m not going to forget about you. When all of this is over, please believe that I’m going to go straight to you and we’ll make this work. I’m not letting you go that easily.”

He’s right. I can’t risk my life like this… it would be too selfish to. My Dad’s face pops into my mind… Grandma, my brothers. They’ve already been through too much losing my Mom. I can’t be selfish, as much as I want a life with Brian. Love is never selfish. I blink the tears away. “Ok,” I say softly and nod. “Ok, I’ll go back to Vancouver.”

He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. “This is torture for me too, London,” he breathes. “Not being able to see you, wondering if you’ll be safe all this time. I’m prepared to go crazy.”

I sigh. “I’m already going crazy.” He rests his forehead on my mine and we stay like that for a moment. I savour the feel of his hands on my face, his smell, and commit it to memory. “I can’t believe it’s come to his,” I whisper.

“I know,” he replies softly. “I know…”

-

After another talk with Detective Brady, I’m released from the medical aid room and instructed to head back home to pack. My flight to Vancouver is booked for noon the next day, which leaves me very little time to say my goodbyes to Brian, Linda, and Mark. It’s all happening so fast and I haven’t even had time to just sit and take it all in. Detective Brady had informed me that during my time away from work, my income will remain – as per an agreement with their protection program. I suggest trying to find work in Vancouver, to occupy myself in the meantime, but he was against the idea. He informs me that there will be a security team following us when we drive back to my house and situated in front for the time being, though he assures me that he doesn’t think Rooney will act any time soon after this. I don’t know how I feel about that. To have a security team constantly watching me is very unnerving.

The ride to my house in Brian’s Range Rover is quiet, with Linda in the back still fuming over what Christian did. “I can’t believe him,” I hear her mutter, breaking the silence as we approach the town.

“Linda, it’s over,” I say softly. “Whatever he tried to do, he didn’t succeed. I’m still here.”

“I just can’t believe he was a spy this whole time!”

“I never liked the guy,” Brian speaks up, glancing over at me. “There was always something sketchy about him.”

I sigh. “I don’t really want to talk about the guy who tried to kill me just a few hours ago.” My voice is filled with bitterness I hadn’t intended. They both fall silent.

“Sorry London,” Linda murmurs. “I just can’t believe this is all happening. I mean, you’re leaving for God knows how long.”

I look back at her and manage a smile on my face. “I’ll be back soon enough, L,” I tell her.

“Look at me. You’re the one who’s in danger and you’re trying to comfort me?” She lets out a breath through her lips. “Typical, good-hearted, London.”

Brian glances at me and gives me a small smile. “Linda, how about you spend some time with London and I’ll give you a ride home later tonight?” he suggests, looking at her through the rearview mirror.

“Thanks, Brian, but I think I’ll head home now,” she replies. “I still have to go to work tomorrow and, besides, I’m sure you and London want to say your goodbyes in private?”

My face flushes and I roll my eyes at her. “Remind me why I’ll miss you?” I joke and she just grins at me.

When we reach her condo, I get out of the car and walk her to the steps so I can say goodbye. “Take care of yourself, please,” she says firmly, hugging me tight. “Just stay home and do nothing until he’s caught, please?”

I laugh slightly and hug her back. “I can’t promise I’ll stay home this whole time, but I will be careful.”

“And London?”

“Yeah?”

She glances toward the Range Rover where Brian is waiting patiently. “He’s worth the wait.” She raises her eyebrows at me, a knowing smile on her face, before opening the condo doors. “I’ll come visit you in Vancouver when I get the chance.”

I nod and wave as she disappears into the building. When I get back into the vehicle, Brian is regarding me carefully. “You okay?” he asks softly.

I smile at him. “I will be, yeah.”

When we step into my house, guilt floods me when I remember that Bronx was picked up today. In the midst of all that is happening, it’s completely passed my mind. I’m still half expecting him to come running to me, ready to go back to Vancouver and keep me company as he always does. I sit down on the couch, sadness taking over and bury my head in my hands.

“What’s wrong, baby?” Brian is kneeling in front of me, concern in his voice.

“I’m just overwhelmed is all,” I reply. “What about Bronx’s body?”

“I got the phone call while you were in the medical room,” he tells me. “He was cremated this afternoon. I wasn’t sure where you wanted him to be sent… here or Vancouver.”

“Thank you,” I breathe. “You’ve done so much for me, Brian.”

“And you’ve put up with so much from me, London,” he replies. “I should be the one thanking you for sticking around.” He stands up then, taking my hands and pulling me up with him. “Come on, I’ll help you pack.”

It’s just past midnight when I zip up the last suitcase. I’ve packed up almost all of my clothes and discarded of any perishable food items from the kitchen. I come across Bronx’s toys but don’t have the heart to rid of them just yet, so I pack them up in a box and keep them in storage for now. I sit at the edge of my bed and look at my now empty closet, wondering when I’ll be back here again. Brian sits down beside me.

“Penny for your thoughts?” he asks, taking my hand.

“Still overwhelmed,” I reply. “I’ve made a home here… I just – it’s going to be a weird transition for a little bit.”

“If it wasn’t for me, you wouldn’t be going through all of this.” His voice is tinged with sadness.

“I don’t regret you.” I turn to look at him. “I will never regret you.”

“I’m going to miss you,” he whispers and I have to fight back the tears again.

“What about you?” I ask. “When are you leaving?”

“The day after tomorrow. The tour was supposed to start this month if I hadn’t up and left, so now it’s back to square one preparing for it.” He sighs. “Luckily, we already have the concept and the costumes. That just means hours of rehearsals, finalizing tour dates, and promotional stuff.”

“How do you feel about getting back out there?”

He contemplates this for a second. “Honestly, it feels nice. I’m an artist, so I crave to be on stage singing somewhere. I just wish it didn’t come with this situation.” He pauses. “I’m still a little bit paranoid about it all.”

I’m silent for a minute. “I just don’t understand how a man who I’ve never even met wants to have me dead for something that neither of us is guilty for.”

“That’s just how fucked up some people are in this world.”

“Are you going to sell your house here?”

He shakes his head. “Nah. Banff has grown on me.” He grins. “Could have something to do with a certain hazel-eyed girl.”

I give him a small smile. “I’m glad you get to go back to what you really love to do. It kind of pained me to see you all holed up in here with your God-given talent.”

“Don’t worry. We’ll catch that son of a bitch real soon and before you know it, I’ll be seeing you in a few days.” He gives me a wink. “We got this.”

“We do,” I agree. Then I take a deep breath as the reality of it all hits me. “Can I ask something of you though?”

“Anything.”

“Can you stay the night?” I ask, suddenly shy and his eyes widen slightly.

“Of course I will. You didn’t even have to ask. Are you tired?”

“Exhausted.”

“Okay, you get ready for bed. I’m just going to run across the street and change real quick then come back. Sounds good?”

I nod. “Hurry back.”

He pauses at the door and studies my face. “Are you scared?” he asks softly.

“A little…”

“Don’t be. You’re safe.” He gives me a reassuring smile and disappears out the door. I quickly change into grey and pink plaid pajama bottoms and a white tank top, pull my hair into a high bun, and finish brushing my teeth right when he gets back.

He’s changed into sweats, his cheeks flushed red from the cold. “You look cute,” he tells me, eyeing me up and down. I raise my eyebrows at him and, before I could figure out what was going on, he scoops me up in his arms and throws me onto the bed.

“Brian!” I laugh as he switches the lights off and jumps into the sheets with me.

“Arghh, I’m gonna miss this,” he murmurs into my neck as he wraps his arms around me.

“Don’t worry,” I whisper into the dark. “We’ll catch him and before you know it, you’ll see me again in just a few days.”

Tomorrow comes too soon. By the time we wake, the sun is out and there’s a persistent sound of banging on the front door. Groggily, Brian untangles himself from me and disappears out of the room to see who it is. I turn away from the window, struggling to adjust my eyes to the bright room. A moment later, Brian walks back in with a mortified look on his face.

“It’s Detective Brady,” he mutters, pulling his blue sweater on. “I wasn’t supposed to sleep over, apparently. We have to make it seem like we’re ‘separated’.”  He rolls his eyes at me. “Come on, sleeping beauty, you need to get up and get ready to go to the airport.”

I groan and throw my arms over my head. “Can’t I just have a normal day? Just one.”

“My life is anything but,” he says in a light tone, but I know he’s not joking.

I would’ve liked nothing better but to stay in Brian’s arms for a little while longer, but Detective Brady seems in a rush to get me to the airport as soon as possible. He hands me my flight itinerary and informs me of the awaiting vehicle ready to drive me to the Calgary airport. Brian insists on taking me himself, but Detective Brady immediately shuts him down.

“We need to make it seem like you’ve gone your separate ways,” he repeats. As if spending the night at my house wasn’t enough to speculate that we’re still together.

Brian fits the last of my suitcases into the back of the black Lincoln SUV, making sure they’re secure before pulling the trunk door shut. “That’s all of it,” he sighs, turning to me.

“I guess this is it,” I say softly, hugging myself and looking up at him. I bite my lip, sure that I’ll burst out crying any time now.

He takes me into a heart wrenching embrace, one that shakes up my emotions. “Be safe okay, baby?” he whispers into my ear.

“You too,” I reply. “Have fun on tour. Keep in touch, if we’re allowed.”

“I’ll find a way,” he murmurs and pulls back to look at me. “You’ll be okay, London. You’ve got some of the best security looking after you and I’ve hired one of the best detectives out there.”

I nod, trying to let his words convince me. But inside, I’m shaking like a leaf. “Thank you for everything again.” I take a deep breath. “Bronx… Bronx can be sent back to my Dad’s house. I told Detective Brady to give you the address, just in case it’s not safe for me to do so… or something.” I shake my head, confused by it all. “Thank you again.”

“No need to thank me.” He takes my hands in his and gives me a weak smile. “We’ll see each other again. Soon enough.”

“Soon enough,” I repeat and stand on my tip toes to give him a kiss on the cheek. “Goodbye, Brian.”

He takes a sharp intake of breath and, in a second, my face in his hands and his lips are crushing down on mine. “Goodbye, London,” he breathes, breaking the kiss.

I blink the moisture out of my eyes as I pull away from him and climb into the backseat of the large SUV. Jake, the driver, closes the door when I’m in and walks around to the driver’s side. I look back as the car pulls away from the curb and I don’t turn around until Brian is out of sight. Just like that, he’s gone.

Once we get onto the highway, another black SUV follows not too far behind; part of the security team. I still can’t wrap my head around the fact that this will be my life for a little while, that all of this fuss is for my safety. Though it does ease my mind a little bit, the thought is unsettling. What will my family think? I haven’t told anyone yet; I figure it would be better to just show up on my Dad’s doorstep and explain in person. This makes me nervous and I try not to dwell on it.

I shift uncomfortably in my seat. I’m wearing quite a bit of layers for the cold morning; a pair of black tights underneath my jeans, some black insulated boots, and my thick snowboarding jacket. I’m quite warm inside the vehicle and Jake catches my eye in the rearview mirror. A few seconds later, I’ve discarded of my jacket and he’s turned the heat down. I feel a bit better, but I’m restless and anxious. I sigh and stare out at the scenery. Oh, when will all of this end?

When we get to Calgary International Airport, I have some time to spare before my flight. I’m instructed to check in early and go through security. I don’t have anyone assisting me on the plane, but I’m told there will be security waiting for me at the Vancouver airport to escort me home. After I’m done checking in, I head straight to the Starbucks not too far from my gate to grab a quick bite to eat. The airport is buzzing with excited crowds leaving for Mexico or Hawaii and I find myself wishing that this was an exciting trip for me.

“Must be nice, huh?” a man sitting beside me says in an enthusiastic voice and I’m startled out of my thoughts.

“I’m sorry?” I say apologetically.

“I said, it must be nice to be going somewhere warm right about now,” he grins, bright white teeth against olive skin. I notice one of his front teeth is gold.

“Tell me about it,” I murmur. “Though this winter has been pretty mild.”

“Ah, I haven’t been around here much during the winter. I’m from smack dab in the middle of the American desert.” His voice is raspy and he’s flipping over a newspaper. He’s a large man with greying hair and a smart dark suit with a purple tie.

“What brings you all the way up here to Canada?” I ask, finishing up the rest of my chai tea latte.

“I had some business to take care of,” he replies. “Where are you off to now, young lady?”

“Vancouver. Back to my family.”

“Ah, beautiful place,” he remarks, then shakes his head at a story in the newspaper. “These celebrities,” he mutters. “Always getting divorced.”

I smile slightly. “Must be hard to keep a relationship with a celebrity.”

“I don’t know about that,” he replies. “I think it could be easy, in fact. Relationships aren’t hard, people make it hard.”

I nod slowly. “I guess that’s true.”

“Especially celebrities, being in the limelight and all.” He shifts in his seat and turns to look at me, his brown eyes twinkling. “The trouble with being in the limelight is that their private life isn’t all that private. Take, for instance, Brian who thinks he can hide his girlfriend away that easily.”

Something in my brain clicks and the hair on the back of my neck stands up. I gasp and pull away from him, standing up abruptly and nearly knocking over a passerby. “What did you just say?” I breathe.

“I’m sorry, darling. I haven’t properly introduced myself. My name is Runefald Sanchez.” He sticks out a chubby hand to me and I notice a large gold ring on his pinky finger and a Rolex watch to match. “But, you can call me Rooney.”

I have to remind myself to breathe as I step away from him. He’s grinning at me now, but he doesn’t budge from his chair. I take another step back, then another but I feel frozen to the spot as the fear grips me.

“No need to run, darling,” he says in his raspy voice. “I’ve got the place covered.” I turn around, looking frantically around me. Do I ask for help? Do I scream, run, what? “If you ask for help and get me caught, I promise you I have someone waiting to shoot Brian’s brain out of his head.” His voice is soft behind me, but I hear it loud and clear.

My heart rate quickens and I can hear the pounding in my ears. My hand flies to my mouth. “I think I’m going to be sick,” I breathe and bolt to the bathroom. From my peripheral, I see a man watching me not too far away and I know he must be one of them. It’s useless, there’s no hiding. I make it to the bathroom anyway and lock myself in one of the stalls.

What do I do, what do I do? Don’t cry. I sit on the toilet and put my face in my hands, at a complete loss. This is life or death, London. Think! I try to breathe as the panic sets in. I don’t have my cellphone anymore, there’s no one I can call. Nowhere to run. Then something occurs to me and I sit up straight. If this is life or death, I either fight back or I let myself become a victim – and I am not giving up that easily. Feeling resolute, I stand up and throw off my snowboarding jacket. I pull off my boots, discard of my jeans so that I’m just in my black tights and a long black thermal sweater. I pull my boots back on and rummage through the pockets of my snowboarding jacket. I find a black knit cat – perfect. I pull it on my head and tuck my hair underneath until all of it is fully inside the cap. Then I rummage through my bag and grab the necessities out of my wallet – my ID, a credit card, some cash, and – a familiar white card. Nick’s phone number. Nick! I quickly tuck that safely inside my boots. I leave the rest of my stuff neatly folded on the floor and walk out of the stall.

I look at myself in the mirror – complete impromptu wardrobe change. Quite impressed with myself, I walk out of the bathroom, heart racing and palms sweaty. I glance over at the man who was watching me earlier, but his focus is behind me, trying to look for the girl in jeans and a snowboarding jacket with her hair down. I quickly duck my head and get lost in the group of people passing by. When I reach the gates, I take off at a jog towards the exit and gulp in the cold air, relief washing over me.

I did it. Now what? I look around me. People are being dropped off and picked up by the curb, cars coming in and out, airport workers guiding the traffic through. Everything is normal; no one is aware of the girl standing in the middle of it all with an impending death threat so close to her. I need to get out of here. I motion to a cab driver waiting by his car.

“Where to, ma’am?” the driver asks as I climb into the backseat. Where to? I need to be somewhere with lots of people on a weekday afternoon, where I can go unnoticed. The mall? No, it’s daytime and right after the holidays. Malls are dead. Downtown? No, everyone’s working. I need to be somewhere that nobody will care to think of.

“To the University of Calgary, please.”

-

I hurry into the food hall of the University, still paranoid that I’m being followed. It was a good choice; the place is busy with crowds of students eating lunch and studying. I sit at one of the tables and rack my brain for what to do, grateful that I have some time to properly calm down and think things through. I can’t go back to Banff; that would be too obvious. I can’t go back to Vancouver; now Rooney knows that was the plan. I can’t stay here; Rooney and his men are here. God, what do I do?

I reach into my boots and pull out Nick’s card, his number written in simple black ink. I look around and spot a payphone by the bathrooms and walk over to it, quickly inserting my credit card and dialing Nick’s number with shaking fingers. He answers after three rings.

“Hello?” His voice is barely audible from all of the background noises.

“Nick!” I say loudly into the phone. Even though I’ve barely had a conversation with him, it’s comforting to finally talk to someone familiar.

“Hello?” he says again. “Who is this?”

“Nick, it’s me, London.”

“Hold up, hold up,” he replies, though I’m not sure it’s toward me. There’s a pause where the background noises begins to disappear and then completely fades out. “Sorry about that, I’m at rehearsals right now. London, what’s up? Is everything okay?”

“No, Nick… I-“ I pause, not knowing what to say. “Do you know about Brian’s situation?”

“Yes, we were all told about it. He’s supposed to be back tomorrow. London, what’s wrong?” His American accent is tinged with concern and I feel a ridiculous urge to cry again.

I take a deep breath. “I’m supposed to be hopping on an airplane back home to Vancouver right now,” I tell him. “But Rooney and his men were there and I managed to run away.”

“Oh my God, London! Are you okay?” His voice is gripped with urgency now and I bounce lightly from foot to foot anxiously, holding the phone with white knuckles.

“Yes, I’m fine. But I don’t know what to do or where to go, Nick,” I breathe. “I’m stranded here in Calgary.”

“Okay, okay, hold on… let me think about this.” He pauses and then mutters, “Shit. I can’t call Brian, apparently his phone is tapped so I can’t even tell him where you are.” He groans and I can almost hear him pacing back and forth. “Don’t go back to the airport, that’s too dangerous.” He pauses again and I can hear his breath quickening. “Okay, here’s what you do. Rent a car and drive to the nearest city that has an airport. From there, catch the next flight to Los Angeles, and I’ll pick you up at LAX. Are you using a payphone?”

“Yes.”

“What’s the number there?” I give him the number without question. “Okay, stay there for a few minutes. I’ll call you back.”

Before I can reply, he hangs up and I’m left standing there to wait. Students pass by, eyeing me warily – probably wondering about the girl in all black, panicked eyes, and anxiously waiting by the payphones. I jump when the phone rings loud and clear a few minutes later and pick it up. “Hello?” I say into the phone after half a ring.

“London,” his voice sounds triumphant, hopeful. “Drive to Edmonton, I’ve bought you a ticket to L.A. Your flight is at 4:15pm. I’ll see you soon. Be safe, okay?”

“Oh my God, thank you Nick,” I breathe. We say our goodbyes and, with shaking fingers, I dial for another cab. Shit. It’s already noon. It’s a three-hour drive to Edmonton and I still have to find a car rental. This is cutting it close.

The things I do for you, Brian.

-

The nearest car rental is only five minutes away from the University and I’m on the highway by 1pm in a Toyota Corolla. I’m constantly checking my rearview mirror, paranoia making me go crazy, but there’s only trucks and the occasional car on the road. When I’m certain that I’m not being followed, I begin to relax a little. The drive to Edmonton is an easy one; straight road with very little traffic. I don’t stop for food or a bathroom break until I finally reach the airport at 3:45, giving me half an hour to catch my plane. Oh, please, let me not be too late.

I drop the car off at the pick-up area, giving the keys to the airport worker. “I rented it from Enterprise Car Rentals. They know it’s being dropped off at this location,” I tell the bewildered man and hurry into the building. The girl at the check-in desk is suspicious of my flustered appearance, but I convince her that it’s an emergency and that it’s absolutely imperative for me to get on the flight. Thankfully, because I don’t have any luggage with me, she lets me through and I’m nearly sprinting towards the gates. I feel like I’m running for my life which, I guess, is the appropriate term to use in a situation like this.

I make it right on time and take my seat, which is all the way in the back. Okay, you need to calm down, London. You’re making everyone on this plane nervous. I relax and pull off my knit cap which I’ve just realized is still on my head. My wavy hair falls around my face and the man beside me gives me a much friendlier smile, which I don’t return. It’s been a long day, I’ve just met the man who is plotting to kill me, I’ve driven for three hours, and just ran to catch this flight. I have no cell phone. No clothes. Not even a tooth brush. And it’s barely been twenty-four hours since making it official with Brian Littrell.

When I reach LAX, Nick is waiting at the gates with a man in a suit standing behind him. He recognizes me right away and, to my surprise, engulfs me in a big hug. “How are you?” he asks, holding me at arm’s length and inspecting me.

“Alive,” I reply and he grins, releasing me.

“This is Jones, my bodyguard,” he tells me, motioning to the man in the suit. “We call him Ax.” We start walking and I suddenly feel very short next to this tall, handsome blonde. “Well, Brian was beside himself with worry.”

“What?” I look up at him, suddenly realizing that Brian has no idea what had just happened.

“Him and Detective Brady got the news that you didn’t make it to your flight, so they thought the worse. He was nearly in tears, thinking that Rooney captured you.”

“Does he know I’m here?”

“Yes. I called Detective Brady to let him know. Brian switched his flight for this evening, but I’m instructed not to let you on the phone with him… for the time being.” He glances at me. “Whatever it is that you did to him, he’s really smitten with you.”

I blush at this and remain silent until we reach the car, which is a pearl white Cadillac Escalade. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to the fancy things that these boys have. “So, where are we going now?” I ask.

“Well, I was instructed by your prince charming to take you shopping.”

“Take me shopping?” I ask incredulously. How can I even think of going shopping at a time like this?

“Yes.” He glances back at me from the passenger’s seat. “Boots and a thermal sweater aren’t exactly California weather appropriate.” Right. I suddenly feel warm and he smiles knowingly. “After that, we’re instructed to wait at the studio until Brian is back. It should be a few hours until then.” I stare out the window. Snow and mountains and running for my life… to palm trees and sun and shopping. I sigh… what a day.

A couple of hours later, I’ve changed into denim shorts, sandals, and a turquoise tank top. Much to my reluctance, Nick has spent a few hundred dollars and I’m buried in shopping bags in the backseat of the car. “It’s Brian’s money, anyway,” he reassures me, but I still feel ridiculous spending it. I insist on using my own credit card, but he confiscates it from me without another word. We have about an hour before we’re instructed to be back at the studio, so we decide on dinner at a nearby restaurant.

“So, did Brian let you in on his big secret from the start?” Nick asks, taking a bite of his turkey melt sandwich. His blue eyes are filled with curiosity.

I shake my head. “No. I had no idea about it all until a couple of days ago actually.” I look down at my half eaten burger. Though I’ve barely eaten all day, I don’t have much of an appetite. “Did you?”

“Nope,” he replies, wiping his fingers off with a napkin. “One day, he was just… Brian, you know – goofy, off the wall, and normal. Then while we were in Vegas, he disappeared for a couple of hours and came back just a totally different person.”

I recall Brian’s story about Vegas – this must’ve been the time he had learned about the death of Rooney’s wife. “How so?”

“At first, he was all shaken up and just extremely paranoid.” He pauses and leans back in his seat. “We were in the middle of a press tour for the new album. We had no idea what was wrong with him. We tried talking to him about it, but he wouldn’t say a word. Everyone was really worried. Then, once the album dropped and we began rehearsals for the tour, he up and left. Just like that. He got a dual citizenship and moved to freaking Canada out of all places.”

“That’s the day I bumped into you guys in town,” I say, remembering that day clearly.

He nods. “Yup. He just started acting like an asshole and distanced himself from everyone. I wanted to punch him out so many times.”

“I think we all did,” I say with a slight laugh.

“Now I just can’t believe all that he sacrificed for the safety of everyone else.” He sighs and goes back to his plate, sprinkling some vinegar over his fries. “But that’s Brian, ya know?”

“And I thought he was an asshole at first,” I mumble, picking at my own plate.

“Yeah well, I can’t blame you. His own family was sick of his attitude. I always knew something had happened that day, but it frustrated me that he wouldn’t talk about it. Now that I know, I have nothing but respect for him for what he did. He’s a great guy.”

I smile fondly. “Yeah… he is.”

When we get to the studio, it’s empty aside from a security guard reading a newspaper at the gates. We walk down a brightly lit hallway, then into a much dimmer room titled “Studio C” on the door. It’s intimate, all modern, and plush couches. I’m in awe staring at all of the framed records and pictures of the artists who have recorded here. “Michael Jackson?” I breathe, looking at a framed picture of him sitting in the exact seat just a few feet away from me. Wow, Patti Labelle, TLC, Beyonce. I come to a picture of the boys, Brian grinning from ear to ear at the camera. “Where are the rest of you?” I ask.

“They’re gone for the day,” Nick replies from his seat, switching on a few buttons and the sound board comes to life. “Here, I’ll play you a song that Brian wrote. I think it’s about you.” He laughs and I raise my eyebrows at him curiously.

Out of nowhere, the sound of a piano comes to life, followed with a simple bass. It’s haunting and eerily romantic. A beautiful voice starts singing, and I realize that it’s Brian. The lyrics are heartbreaking, talking of a forbidden love and nights alone. My heart constricts and I’m frozen to the spot, listening to this beautiful melody. Nick watches me carefully from his seat.

“I told you he’s really into you,” he says.

Before I could reply, the door suddenly burst open and I’m momentarily blinded by the hallway light. When my eyes adjust, I see him clear as day standing a few feet away from me. My heart jumps to my throat. It’s him - looking drop dead gorgeous, curly hair down his forehead, blue eyes as intense as ever, and cheeks flushed pink. He’s here. Nick raises his eyebrow at us both before quietly slipping out of the room, leaving us alone.

“Brian,” I breathe, still frozen to the spot.

“Oh God, London.” In a couple of strides, he closes the space between us and I’m in his arms. The feeling of finally being safe with him is overwhelming and the tears come. I’m sobbing now as he hugs me tight. “It’s okay, it’s okay. I’m here. Baby, I’m here. You’re safe,” he croons, taking my face into his hands and kissing my cheeks, my nose, my forehead. “I was so worried. Oh God, I thought I lost you.” He squeezes me tight again. “I’m never letting you out of my sight again.”

“I-I was so scared,” I stammer, holding on to him for dear life. “Rooney… he-“

“Shh, I know, I know. It’s okay.” He lets me cry into his shoulder for a few more minutes until I’ve finally calmed down. Wiping my tears away with his thumbs, he gives me a kiss on the lips. “You’re staying with me, okay?”

I nod and lean up to kiss him, savoring the feeling of holding him. “I only feel safe with you,” I murmur and he reaches up to caress my cheek.

“From now on, you’re only going to be with me.” We stay like that, holding each other, for a few seconds until Nick pokes his head back into the room.

“Uh, I hate to interrupt this beautiful moment and all, but we gotta get going,” he says. “Everyone wants to see you, Bri.”

He smiles up at his friend, then back down at me. “You ready?”

I laugh slightly. “At this point, I’m pretty sure I’m ready for anything.”

He shoots me an apologetic grin before intertwining his fingers with mine and leading me out into the hallway. “Hey, stranger,” he says to Nick, putting an arm on his shoulder.

“Glad to have you back, man.” Nick gives him a brotherly hug and it occurs to me right then and there the extent of Brian’s actions to protect his loved ones.

The black tinted SUV makes its way down the immaculate gated community, palm trees lining each side of the road and the California sun setting beautiful hues of orange and pinks against a bright blue cloudless sky. I’m sitting in the backseat with Brian, staring at the gorgeous mansions in awe. “Don’t tell me you live here in a mansion by yourself,” I breathe, glancing at him.

He chuckles. “Not quite. Kevin lives here,” he replies.

“Is that…” My voice trails off as I sit gaping at the infamous house we’re passing by.

“Mr. Spelling’s abode? Yes.”

I shake my head, not believing my eyes. “Geez.” The car begins to slow down, approaching a long driveway leading up to a dark grey mansion with a red door and white trimming. This must be Kevin’s house and, instantly, I begin to feel nervous. I am so out of place here. Just an average girl from a small town in the midst of celebrities, fame, and unimaginable wealth. How did I get here? I so don’t fit in here. I suddenly find myself longing for my dog, my house in Banff, and my usual normal work routine.

“Hey,” Brian says softly beside me, taking my hand in his. “Relax.” It’s as if he’s reading my mind. I look into his eyes and they’re so comforting and familiar and warm and gentle and everything that I need that I feel the anxiety disappear. “Everyone is excited to meet you,” he reassures me. “They want to meet the woman who brought me back.” He kisses my knuckles and I feel my heart melt.

“How do you do that?” I ask and he raises an eyebrow at me questioningly. “How do you manage to just… make my worries disappear?”

He grins at me. “I got your back, babe.”

I laugh and our moment is interrupted when the car comes to a full stop. A second later, the driver opens the door for us and I take a deep breath as I follow Brian out of the car. Nick pulls up behind us in his Escalade and straightaway, we’re greeted by a tall and handsome man with dark features who is walking down the porch steps toward us.

“Brian!” he exclaims, engulfing him in a hug. “It’s great to see you back, cous.”

“Feels good to be back,” Brian replies, then reaches for me, putting a hand at the small of my back. “Kevin, this is my girlfriend, London. London, Kevin.”

“Ah, I’ve heard a lot about you, London. It’s nice to finally meet you.” He smiles warmly at me and gives me a welcoming hug.

“It’s nice to finally meet you too and nice to finally… feel safe?” I try, nerves getting the best of me and I can’t help the blush creeping on my cheeks.

He laughs. “You’re safe with us, sweetheart. We’ll make sure of that.”

Kevin’s house is the biggest I’ve ever been in – ever. His wife, Kristin, is a gorgeous blonde who greets me with the same warm welcome her husband had. The main foyer is bigger than my house alone and it leads to a large dining room where about eight more people are sitting at the table. I’m introduced to AJ and Howie along with the boys’ management team and some of the security team. Everyone is ecstatic that Brian – the normal Brian – is back and they’re thanking me profusely but I still can’t wrap my head around it all.

The meeting is all business and I don’t say much as I listen. I find myself watching Brian from across the table as he looks over his rehearsal and tour schedule with management, signs contracts, and discusses what he needs to do to get back on track with the group. He’s a completely different person – no more smart or sarcastic remarks, no hesitation, no confusion or distance or mystery. He’s relaxed, in his element, laughing and joking around with his band mates. I smile just as he looks up and he gives me a smile and a wink back.

The meeting doesn’t last too long. Some of the management team has left while the security team stays behind with all five of the boys and I. We’re sipping on white wine and laughing at Nick’s antics when Brian takes my hand and pulls me up off my chair. Everyone is too busy conversing and joking around to pay mind to us as we slip out of the dining room.

“Where are we going?” I ask as he leads me through the kitchen and out into the vast backyard.

“I just want some time alone with you,” he murmurs, pulling me into his arms. I relax and stare out over his shoulder at the beautiful view of the backyard. The pool lights are on, illuminating the water and reflecting the light of the moon against the surface. In the distance, the city of Los Angeles is twinkling. In the craziness of this day, there’s nowhere I’d rather be than right here with him, in this moment. I’m in love with this man – deeply.

I pull back and look into his eyes. He gazes back at me with a small smile on his face. “Brian, I-“ I can’t seem to bring myself to say it and I give him a shy smile.

“Yes?”

“I’m just happy,” I say finally.

“Even after everything? You can run now, you know.”

I shake my head. “There’s no turning back from here.” I pause as Rooney’s raspy voice echoes in my head, making me shiver.

“Are you cold?” he asks, putting his arms back around me.

“No, I needed to tell you something.” I take a deep breath, feeling my heart quicken as I recall Rooney’s words. “When I met Rooney at the airport, he told me something. He said that you can’t hide me.”

He frowns at this. “Of course he’d say that. He’s just trying to get in your head.”

“I was thinking about it… and I know that, either way, if you and I aren’t together or pretend that we’re not together, he’ll still come after me. Because he knows that you already care.”

He nods slowly, taking this in. “I agree. I was thinking that same thing while I was on the flight here.” He sighs and presses his forehead against mine. “This is such a mess, baby. I’m sorry. But if it’s going to be that way, I’d rather you be by my side so I know you’re safe.”

“I don’t think it matters where I am,” I reply softly, my voice laced with fear. “He won’t stop until either he’s caught… or I’m dead.”

“Hey,” he pulls back and grabs my face gently. “Don’t talk like that. We got this.”

I bite my lip to keep the tears from coming. The sliding door behind us opens suddenly and we both jump back, startled. It’s Kristin and she gives us a sheepish smile. “Sorry,” she says. “But Detective Brady has just arrived and wants to see you guys.”

Brian groans. “Great, I was just starting to miss him.”

Detective Brady is sitting at the dining room table dressed casually in jeans and a blue polo. The atmosphere has turned serious again, all joking put on hold as he talks to the boys about the heightened security on this tour. He looks up as Brian and I walk in and gives me a tight-lipped nod.

“Ms. Cartier,” he acknowledges. “I apologize for what happened at the airport. It seems that our lack of judgment put you in harm’s way.”

I shake my head, waving it off. “I’m here now, safe and sound. I’d rather hear about what will happen from here on out.”

He nods and motions for us to sit. Brian sits next to me, not letting go of my hand. Resting his elbows on the table, Detective Brady begins and everyone in the room is all ears. “From here, every band mate will be assisted by two bodyguards to any public outing. There will be a security team patrolling Brian’s house at all times – that means twenty-four hours to ensure that no one can trespass. On tour, there will be security guarding the hotel room floors that the band mates as well as every member of the crew will be staying at. The security at the venues is pretty tight already, so we have no concerns there. To warn you all, there won’t be much room for privacy or freedom in the next little while until we finally catch Rooney and get him behind bars. I hope this won’t be an issue for anyone, taking into consideration that it is a serious threat that we’re facing.”

Heads nod around the room, everyone agreeing and understanding that this will need to be done for the safety of everyone around them. “Does the two bodyguards rule apply to me, too?” I ask in a quiet voice and feel Brian’s hand squeeze mine.

Detective Brady looks at me, surprised “Oh no, Ms. Cartier, our plans for you are much different.” He pulls out a manila envelope then, seemingly out of nowhere, and slides the contents out onto the table. There are several ID cards, documents, and different official-looking papers. “This is your new identification,” he tells me. To my horror, I see my picture on a driver’s license. I pick it up.

“Amanda Hemsworth?” I say incredulously. “Wait, this is a Hawaii driver’s license.”

He nods. “Yes, Ms. Cartier. They’ve received your luggage in Vancouver that was checked in and will be sent here to L.A. As soon as we get clearance, you’ll be travelling to Waikiki, which is a good place to put you in hiding as it is a popular tourist spot. Like I said before, Rooney doesn’t like crowds so you’re safe-“

“Wait, hold up,” Brian cuts in, putting a hand up. “Are you telling me that you’re taking my girlfriend halfway across the ocean to live in Hawaii with a completely different identity?”

“Yes, Mr. Littrell, that is the plan.”

Brian shakes his head and stands up then, releasing my hand. “And what good will that do? Isolate her? Keep her in hiding, with no contact whatsoever from her family and her loved ones?” Everyone is watching Brian now, surprised at his outburst. “No. No. I don’t approve of this. I want her with me, near me.”

“Mr. Littrell, I know that being physically separated in a relationship is hard but this is with the safety of Ms. Cartier in mind.”

“I can handle being physically separated. With all due respect, Detective Brady, I’ve been in relationships before where I’m on the road for months on end. That I can handle. What I can’t handle, though, is not knowing where London is, if she’s even safe, not knowing what’s going on. Whether we’re physically together or not, or forced to not be in a relationship, it’s too late. Rooney knows I care about London, and he won’t stop until he has her in his hands.” He pauses, his chest rising with every breath. “If we run from this, we’ll always be running. If he finds her there, she’ll have to run to a different place under a different identity. I don’t want to run. I don’t want her to become a victim and living in fear.”

“Mr. Littrell-“

“No, Detective Brady. The answer is no.” Brian’s voice is firm, almost angry. “We’re going to live as much a normal life as possible if I have to protect her myself.” He’s talking through gritted teeth now. “The safest thing for her to do is be around all of us, all of this security. She’s going on tour with us, whether you like it or not. And if you think this is unsafe, then you better up your security a hundred times over until you know damn well that nothing, nothing will ever happen to her.”

With that, he grabs my hand and pulls me to my feet. I’m stunned, my mouth slightly open, eyes wide and looking at everyone around the table who has the same expression on their faces. I shrug at them apologetically as Brian drags me out of the room and out the front door.

I wake up in a sweat, heart pounding, and eyes wide. I look around me, frantically searching the room but it’s empty. The moon light seeping through the wide open windows cast dark shadows against the wall. I sit back, willing my breathing to slow down. Beside me, Brian is fast asleep – shirt off and hair tousled. I sigh and run a hand through my damp hair. It was just a dream. A horrible dream where Rooney is walking towards me, grinning with his gold teeth glinting, knife in hand… slowly advancing. I shudder. Suddenly feeling claustrophobic, I stand up and make my way to the kitchen in the dark. I flick the light switch on, pour myself a glass of water, and down it one gulp. The cool liquid feels good against my dry throat and my mind clears a little.

After Brian’s outburst at Kevin’s house, he took me back to his place. It’s a beautiful modern, million dollar condo in the heart of downtown Los Angeles - way up high and overlooking the city. The floor is dark wood, all steel appliances, and black furniture. I find myself on the balcony, breathing in the cool California night air. The wind blows at my hair gently and I hug myself as I stare out into the distance. My life has literally turned upside down in a matter of a couple of days and I’ve barely had to time to grasp it. Thoughts circle my mind and I dwell on one that seems to speak volumes to me at this moment – is this all worth it?

-

Worry and fear immediately grips me when I wake up to an empty bed beside me. I sit up and search the room but she’s not there. Breathe, Brian. I remind myself that there is security patrolled just outside of my door and on the premises downstairs. I stand and make my way down the hallway and into the kitchen. My mind eases when I see her on the balcony, her back to me. She turns around as I approach her and gives me a breathtaking smile. God, she’s beautiful.

“Are you okay?” I ask, taking her into my arms. She wraps her arms around my neck, lacing her fingers through my hair and I shiver slightly. Her touch sends electricity down my body – the things this woman could do to me.

“Yeah, I was just out here trying to clear my mind,” she replies. I give her a soft kiss on the lips and lightly place one on her forehead.

“What are you thinking about?” I murmur, rubbing her back gently. She sighs and I pull back to search her face. They’re filled with confusion and I can almost see the push and pull going on in her head. Oh no.” “You’re not having second thoughts about us are you?” My voice is quiet, nervous.

She shakes her head. “No, no. It’s not that. It’s just…” She pauses, searching for the words. “It’s just that my life has changed so much in so little time. I mean… I’ve barely stepped out of Canada and now I’m about to see the whole world with you.”

I smile and tuck a strand of hair behind her ears. “I know it can be overwhelming and everything is so uncertain. But, I’m here every step of the way and we’ll take this one day at a time. That’s all we can do. The attention, all of this…” I motion to our surroundings. “This is all material things, the fame is just on the surface of what matters. Do you trust me?” I take her hands in mine, bringing them to my lips.

She nods. “Yes.” Her voice comes out in a whisper, her light hazel eyes burning into mine. Those eyes that can see right through to my soul.

“Then I promise you, London Cartier, that you’ll be safe with me. I won’t ever let anything happen to you. We’re in this together, every step of the way.” I give her another kiss. “At the same time, I don’t want you to do something that you don’t want to. We can figure out a way.”

She shakes her head, her eyes not leaving mine. “It’s worth it.”

“Do you mean that?” I whisper, my heart and stomach doing funny flips.

“Every word.”

“Then... I got your back, babe,” I grin and she grins back at me, giggling as I scoop her up into my arms.

-

From a distance, a man sits watching the young, happy couple laughing on the balcony. He drums his fingers on the steering wheel of the white van, his gold pinky ring glistening against the light of the surrounding lampposts. He runs his tongue over his teeth, pausing at the gold tooth before his mouth turns into a sly grin.

“What are we waiting for, boss?” His nephew, Nathan, is nearly bouncing up and down on the passenger’s seat, eyes filled with excitement, the shotgun lying on his lap. “I can aim from here and take her down so easy.” He laughs as he forms his thumb and index finger into an imaginary gun. “BAM!”

Rooney glances at him and shakes his head slightly. “In due time, my nephew.” He chuckles a menacing, evil laugh. “In due time.”

To be continued…