RILEY

Okay, so things were getting a little intense. The construction had just started a week earlier, and already our lives were all screwed up. First, my kitchen disappeared. Not a big loss, old stove, turquoise refrigerator, chipped sink, crooked cupboards. But when I say it disappeared, I really mean it vanished. The entire north wall of the right tower was demolished to the second floor ceiling, making way for the greenhouse dining room addition. It was still pretty cold, so there were several tarps guarding against the spring chill, and another blocking off the living room from the construction dust.

So, we had to walk into the door (or through the tarps at the giant gaping hole), sneak under more tarps and immediately stoke the fireplaces to get comfortable. Not like there was loads of comfort to be found until after dark when all the noisy diesel equipment shut down for the night, until the forty three workers left, or until Kevin had his final daily progress report meeting. And that was way, way after dark.

It's not like we didn't expect it or hadn't planned for it. After long talks, John and I decided to take our chances and stay on the premises. But man, I was a chef without a kitchen. Yeah, yeah. There was a microwave, a coffee maker, a tiny refrigerator but nothing else.

Check, I was having some frustration there.

Then the mere idea of privacy was completely obliterated. Men were on site before dawn, and some even stayed after Kevin left, working under blazing lights to get things organized for the next morning. No privacy pretty much equals little to no sex.

Check, John was more than a bit frustrated.

The beginning of the week, Cort arrived to do some consulting on the exterior of the building. We felt uncomfortable with several of the changes Kevin and Ralph were proposing, unsure of how they'd fit with the authenticity of a Victorian mansion we were trying to recreate. So of course, we called in our Family expert.

Poor Cort. His mind was on Bonita back in California, ready to foal any day. He called East more often that he called Iz during his few days with us. He fretted and worried, then suddenly out of the blue, moved all his focus to me.

I wasn't sure how I felt about that. Not that I don't love Cort. Hell, I think he's the sexiest cowboy on two gorgeous legs. When I took him for a walk, showing him the clearing where our barn was going to be built, he started to become rather amorous. Well that's a good thing, but with so many workers around, I was uncomfortable. Cort suggested we go to his room in Stowe. I couldn't leave; the interior designer was scheduled for a meeting at three. Then he looked me square in the eye.

"Hermanita? What's the problem here, darlin'?"

"No problem, just lots to take care of." I tried to smile. "I swear, I'll ask for you soon and we'll have a real visit, but this --"

"You saying this ain't the time, Riles?"

I nodded, leaned back against a tree.

He moved close, whispered into my ear. "It's time, darlin'. Time to get back in the Game."

"No," I slipped away from him. "Not yet. I'm not ready yet, Cort. And with all this going on, I just can't imagine leaving John to deal with it alone. I can't." I tried to walk away, but he blocked my path, sweet compassion in his green eyes.

"I understand, hermanita. I do. But it's time for you to take a break."

"I don't need a break, Cort. I need, I need . . . hell, I don't know what I need. Everything is all a shambles; I can't even find my underwear."

That gleam sparkled in his eyes.

"Down, boy. I'm wearing John's."

He swung his boot, thumped the toe against a nearby fallen log. "Well, darlin', that kinda takes a bit of the spark out of it."

"Sorry."

"Riley," he said softly, looking at his foot propped on the log. "You do realize that you are desired, loved, cherished, don't you?"

I swallowed hard and his eyes turned to me.

"Darlin', it's part of our world, to love and be loved. You've had one hell of a scare, hermanita. And no one is surprised you're a little leery of stepping out again."

"I will," I turned and walked a few paces away, turned back. "I swear I will. Just not yet." A few more paces, then I turned again. "Please don't be mad at me."

"Not mad at ya, darlin'. Concerned, that's all."

I left. Jesus, I'd had just about enough of everyone's concern. I huffed, slapped my way under the tarp and gathered my notes to review before the interior designer arrived. I tugged at the too big boxer shorts under my jeans and sneered. Looking at the blueprints, all I could see was red.

Check, I was damn frustrated, and couldn't even figure out why.

Cort did a wonderful job getting the exterior design back on track and left the next morning. After taking him to the airport, I dropped off John for his rehab session with Francine then ran a few errands. I was finished early, so against my better judgment, I went to the health club to take a look at Francine.

Have you ever faced your biggest fears and had them turn out to be absolutely nothing? Well, this wasn't the case. Not by a long shot. I looked through the glass wall and nearly fell over. The woman was unbelievable, perfect as a damn Barbie doll and prettier than even I had imagined. Turning my back, I pushed my butt against the door, opening it just a crack to hear what she was saying to John. Interesting. Very interesting.

"Biebe, six more."

"Yeah, yeah, fucking yeah," John grunted, lifting his bad leg, the thigh under a weighted exorcize machine bar.

"Five."

Grunt.

"Four. Have you taken the meds, John?"

"Fuck no."

"Three."

"Fuck!" John shouted so loud his voice reverberated against the glass walls.

"Two and one and that's it, dammit. We are done."

Clank. I heard the weights drop.

"What the hell are you talking about? I have another half hour, Fran."

"No, we're finished, Biebe. I told you, you have to take the pain meds. You are never going to get as far as you want in the kind of pain you're experiencing. We're wasting our time here. Get out," she said harshly.

And Francine charged out the door, right past me. I slunk outside and waited in the car.

Check, John was really frustrated that he couldn't have his recovery the way he wanted it.

That night, John took some Extra Strength Tylenol and called Francine. Not sure how that went, but for the first time in days, he slept well. He'd graduated from crutches to a cane. In one week he'd be getting a brace on the rebuilt shin and hopefully things would get even better . . . if he followed the rules, Francine's rules that is. Had to hand it to her, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't get him to even admit he was hurting. Granted he still refused the prescription pain killers, but I wouldn't argue with him about that. They were harsh, made him drowsy, and he wanted to be sharp with everything going on around us. Tylenol was a huge step for my big, tough hockey player.

Friday morning brought more irritation. Some idiot using a backhoe hit the water line. Not ours, (we were on the resort's private water lines, thank God), they hit county's line and it made one hell of a mess. Not only did we have construction vehicles everywhere, but fire and utility trucks, as well as an ice skating mote around the house that didn't melt to a mud river till noon, before it froze over again for the night. Jesus!

But there was a positive in all this. No one was coming on to the property Sunday. No one!

We both slept till nine. My eyes popped opened. "Shhh!" I whispered.

"What?" John mumbled.

"Silence. Can you hear it?"

He chuckled and reached for me under the blankets. "Loud and clear."

***

We were going into town for breakfast. I'd had my fill of eating instant cinnamon brown sugar Quaker Oats every morning, and thankfully John was in the mood for a nice hardy meal. I showered, actually sang in there, feeling happy for the first time in a long time. So, there was a lot of inconvenience. And yes it was aggravating but before we knew it, it would all be over. We'll have the most magnificent Inn in all of Vermont. In all of America if Kevin was right. And then, finally we can move on with our lives.

I opened the bathroom door to let out the steam and put on my bra and panties, ran my fingers through my short damp hair then went into the bedroom to dress. I could hear John talking in the living room. He was talking quietly.

Sisters, tell me why I do this? I mean, when did I start this terrible habit of eves dropping? I know better. God sakes, it never, and I mean never bodes well for me. But there I was, standing still and . . . listening.

He was on the phone.

"Yeah, yeah man. It's just getting tough, you know."

Silence.

"Worried about her, that's all. She needs to get the fuck outta here. Needs a break from all this shit, probably from me too."

More silence.

John chuckled. "Well, besides getting her to cut down on the cigarettes, just maybe get her to relax. Take her back to Catalina. She really liked it there."

At that point, my fists were balled and I was getting so mad, I swear my eyes were crossed.

"Don't worry about that, Doc. I'll get her to ask for you."

"John fucking Biebe!" I growled.

"Later, man," he hung up the phone, rubbed his eyes then looked at me. It was that man, I am fucking busted, look. "Um."

"Um what? What the hell are you doing? Pimping me out, John?" I shouted, turned and went back into the bedroom. I was slamming drawers, the closet door, whatever would move was in serious trouble and Sophie hedged her way out to the living room.

John thumped in on cast and cane. I couldn't even look at him.

"God dammit John!" I shouted into the dresser mirror. I heard the bedroom door slam and turned, surprised to see him standing there, glaring at me. At me!

My focus went back to the dresser; I opened and closed the top drawer maybe three times, then grasped the edge of the wood to keep from punching a hole in the mirror. John came up behind me.

"Look at me," he said with a hiss. I wouldn't turn. His hand came around, grasped my chin and raised my face, forcing me to focus on his reflection in the mirror. "Fucking look at me, Riley."

I gave him the most belligerent glare I could muster. "Why would you do that to me, John?" I didn't even recognize my voice, it was so angry, so full of venom.

"I was doing it for you, God sakes!"

I pushed, trying to get him to back off, but he dropped the cane, grasped onto the dresser, his huge hands close to mine.

"For me! For me? You want to get rid of me that bad, just tell me to get the hell out!"

"Get rid of you?" He yelled. "Fuck! You know damn well how this world works, Riley. You have fallen back into the same fucking pattern you keep falling into since you got here!"

It took all my strength to hold myself tight against the dresser, away from his body. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"How fucking long were you here before you ask for your first visit, Riley? How long?"

"I have no idea!"

"Well I know. Six weeks. Six fucking weeks! Then how long after we got together? What, another three months?"

"Yes, and in between I've been a prime A tart, right? You told me after the auction how much you hate me visiting so much!" I glared at his reflection, into his eyes.

"I told you how hard it is for me." His voice was softer. "I never said I hate it. This is our lives, Riley. You know that."

God, I wanted to soften, but I just couldn't. I was so insulted, so pissed that he was begging Doc to take me off his hands. "What do you want to hear, John?" I growled. "That I adore making love with Terry? That Bud drives me insane? Makes me shiver? You want to hear how much I miss Colin? His lips, his body? That Max holds a piece of my heart? What do you want to hear?"

"Is it true?" His voice was raspy, dark. "'Cause I want the fucking truth."

I swallowed hard. My God, what had I done? I could see the hurt in his eyes.

"The truth, Riley. Pure and simple. Would you leave me for any of them?"

"No!"

"Then prove it." His hand grasped my panties, actually ripped them from me, the seams giving way under his strength. "Prove that you'll always come back to me! You're here, you gotta play the Game. It's the only way I will know you are really mine."

His hand snaked around; slid between my legs, into so much wetness I was shocked.

"No, don't John. I am really pissed!"

"Yeah, well so am I."

A finger dug, slid close to my clit and I nudged back to push him away, only to feel that finger move hard and fast, deep and I groaned.

His face buried into my neck, lips sucked an aching mark. "Fuck Riles," he moaned. "I love you so fucking much. We gotta make this work, and there's only one way, baby. Only one way. The Game. Baby, we fucking live in the Game. Without it, we are fucked."

I turned my face, his mouth captured mine, tongue dove. I was panting, moaning as his finger worked my clit, my knees were starting to tremble.

His hand pulled at my hip and I took a step back, bend over and braced myself. In the mirror, I watched John, his face red, his right hand supporting himself tight on the dresser. And his solid cock drove deep, fast, sliding as far as it could.

I was mesmerized, my eyes locked on his reflection as he pounded into me. And John watched me. His finger worked fast, shooting me into orgasm after orgasm and when he finally come, pulsing heat into me with a roar, tears flowed.

After the grunts, the moans, gasps and sighs, I turned into his arms. John kissed me. Kissed me so long and sweet I could hardly breathe. I bend down and reached for his cane, handed it to him.

"I'm sorry, baby," he whispered, grasping it and standing away from the dresser. "Sorry I called Doc. Sorry I pissed you off. But . . ."

"I know, John." I melted against his chest. "And I will always come home to you. Always."

His lips kissed my hair, my cheek, my nose.

"And I'll ask for Doc. Maybe you are all right. Maybe it is time."

"It is."

"John, why Doc?" I asked, nuzzling into his chest.

John sighed. "'Cause he's nuts for you, cares about you."

"Oh. And you aren't jealous of me being with him, right?"

"Fuck, baby. I'm jealous of them all. But . . ."

"I know, I know. It's the Game."

"More than that, Riles. It's how we live our lives in it. It's how we love each other, you and me."

JOHN

I know what you're thinking. Am I nuts? I mean, I had my Number One at my side every day and every night. What more can I man want, right? No, we're not at the old married couple stage yet. Hell, we just got together in August. That's only like eight months ago. Factor in visits, Family holidays, my recovery and the time I've actually spent alone Riles adds up to maybe half that. We're still like fucking newlyweds, strange as that sounds in this world.

Confession. If I could, I'd run away with her. Live alone in the wilderness where no one could find us and I'd be perfectly happy. But . . .

I'd miss this Game.

See, Riles came here battered and lost, unloved and un-cared for. I've been lucky enough to watch her bloom and grow with the love and support offered to her here. It's damn good for her. And yeah, she's a tart. I kinda like that about her. We live in a pretty unique situation. We can have it all, and the truth is I really wouldn't want to give up being with my sweetheart, Nat. Or sexy, exciting Isobel. Definitely, I couldn't give up the special relationship I have with Darcy. Fuck, friends and lovers. Where the hell can you get that, and still have the love of your fucking life too?

So it was time, and knowing how Riles can dig in her heels and refuse to move ahead no matter how right the timing is, I knew I had to start the ball rolling. Get her to start playing the Game again. How else could I keep her happy? Be sure she's mine?

I was standing on the porch, listening to four workmen argue with Kev and trying to make heads or tails of what the real problem was. I kissed Riles and she headed for the car, Monica was driving her to the airport. Fuck, my heart almost stopped.

"Wait!" I shouted, pushing my way past the men. Kevin caught my arm just before I fucking fell on my face trying to run down the steps.

"Jesus, John. She's waiting, Chill!"

Gave him a glare and headed for my baby.

She stood at the car, looking up at me. That sad look and I really wanted to smile, be encouraging, you know. Make sure she knew it was all right to leave for a week. But God sakes, I just couldn't. I leaned against the fender and pulled her close. Planted one hell of a kiss on her sweet lips as some forty workers hooted and whistled.

"Have a good time, baby. Miss you already."

"I miss you already too," she was breathless, fighting back tears and I almost told her to forget the whole fucking thing. "And I am coming home to you, John Biebe. You can't get rid of me this easy."

I hugged her tight. Took one last whiff of her hair and stood nice and tall, well for a minute until the cane started to sink in the mud and I laughed. "I'll be here. Now go, don't miss your flight."

RILEY

Home. It could be the building you live in. Your favorite room. Where you work or spend your most enjoyable time. Home can be the person you share your life with. Or in Perve World, the persons you share your life with. Home can be a happy feeling or memory. A few of mine are the texture of my mother's sofa when I was a little girl. The aroma of the wonderful orange cookies she baked for me when I was sad or sick. Roasted chicken with mashed potatoes and gravy.

Home can be a thousand different things to a thousand different people. But it centers in one place. The heart. It is soft with love and comfort, safety and security. It's sprinkled with challenges and sadness. Joy and fear. It's pretty much a well simmered and seasoned beef stew. Something old, something new. Nothing borrowed, but lots of blue. Lots of it. At least in my case.

I never thought much about what home means to me until John came into my life. Until we bought the Inn. That dilapidated old mansion had been in my dreams since I was twelve years old. The day I found it, realized it really existed, was the moment I heard John's voice. "Promise me you'll give us a chance, Riley. Don't go back, promise me." Looking up at the two towers, a house split in half, the wound mended with a crumbling arched porch, and hearing his voice over the phone . . . now, that was home. Who knew I would have both, together, and the unique opportunity to heal myself too?

Home is inside and outside, and no single person, place or thing makes up all of it. In our world, we love. We do it in the Game and with our whole hearts. I'm lucky enough to have a Number One who really knows the Game. The benefits, the challenges and the rewards of it. John's a man who struggles with jealousy, but understands the rules. He's committed to the premise of loving in this way, and he teaches me everyday, in every way.

John is everything to me. Absolutely everything. In the beginning, I had a hard time accepting the concept that another man, another Brother could complete that feeling of home. Make it even more. Better. Knowing John's past, I was careful, even a little leery about expanding my heart, letting another Brother in so deep that it might destroy the Game as John loves it to be. But, leery or not, it happens. Life happens, and love happens. And when it hit me, that another man, in addition to John, could make my life really home, I was more surprised than words can say.

I'm completely nuts about Bud. Colin makes me melt, has a special pull in my heart. Lachlan is the most cherished friend I have ever known. Terry is my loving playmate. Cort, well, Cort is my sweet confessor. Maximus, my teacher. If it was going to happen to me, I sort of expected a sneak attack of deep love to come with one of those Brothers. I know them well, trusted them with my life, my heart, my very soul. But it came from a completely different place. A place I never imagined.

Jeff Wigand.

I saw Doc exactly three times before I realized what he does for me, how he affects me. The element of surprise is what I think made me ignore it for so long. Why Doc? Was I one of those women who needed a father figure? Was that bad? Maybe that wasn't it at all. I have no real clue what it is, but it's real.

Loving Doc was like slipping into warm water. A slow, easy awareness that I was in deep before I even realized I was wet. He's like the string that holds this kite secure to the earth. Keeps me grounded and helps me find the center. He doesn't know this, I'm sure. He thinks I'm funny. He always says, "Riles, you're nuts. And God love ya, I'm nuts for you."

John was dealing with the craziness of construction back home. He'd insisted I get away for a while, take a breather. Get back into the Game. Damn, it was hard for me. I know where I live, where my home is. It's in this strange world, but I think almost losing John forever scared the living hell out of me. I just wanted to cling and cling tight. And John was right. I'd fallen into an old pattern. Walking around this amazing world, my home, with blinders on, safe in his arms, wanting nothing else.

But that's not how we live here. John said he needed me to get back into the Game. That way he'd know, really know we were as perfect together as he thought we were . . . simply because I came home to him.

So I went to Catalina Island to visit with Doc. I thought I was doing it for John.

Once I got on the plane, settled in for the long coast to coast flight, it seemed to become easier. What the hell was I so upset about? It was just a visit. And it seemed like a pretty average visit at that. I was just going to spend time with Doc. There wasn't an erratic electric charge going through me. It felt good. Calm. Right.

Then, all of a sudden, it was a bolt of lightening. The minute I climbed out of the cab, saw him standing at the beach house door, I thought my heart would leap right out of my mouth. I could hardly breathe. Jesus, I thought. When did this happen?

Even though I'd only seen him a few times, I thought about him a lot, especially after he came with Darcy to help when John got home from the hospital. Without realizing it, Doc and I had gotten closer, were chatting on IM, sending e-mails, or on the phone at least once a week. John had started to tease me that I had a boyfriend.

Doc walked out the door and opened his arms. I stepped into them, buried in his hug. Home. It was complete.

"Let's take a walk on the beach, sweetheart," he said after helping me unpack.

"Okay." I was trying not to look at him. Let me explain. I wasn't feeling some kind of rattling excitement, I was feeling something a hell of a lot scarier. More than the pull. A completion that worried me.

"How's John?" he asked casually, leading me down to the sand.

"Better, better. He's finally taking something for the pain. It's making his rehab so much easier."

Doc nodded. "I'm glad you came here, Riley."

"Yeah, yeah. I know. I needed a break. Needed to get back in the Game. I think you're like the fifth person to tell me that."

"I'm not telling you anything, sweetie. I'm just saying I'm glad you came here. To see me."

There was a cool breeze coming off the Pacific, dark clouds rolling in. It was early evening, but the sunset was long obliterated, hidden behind thunderheads. We strolled like it was a beautiful sunny day, my hand dwarfed in his. When our eyes finally met, I wanted to cry. So blue. Bluer than the sky. His blonde and gray hair was tossed in the breeze, his shirt opened and floating. He smiled, kicked water up on me and I chased him down the beach. Doc's laughter is a sound that tugs my heart, and I realized that I strive to make him laugh. Just to hear it, to feel that tug. Maybe I am funny.

"Hey!" I finally caught him, kicked salty water over his legs, splashing his swim trucks and giggled. His brows shot up. One of those big hands caught my hip. He flopped me over his shoulder and charged into the water.

"No! No!" I squealed. "Jesus, Jeff! Please! I can't swim!"

"Well, you're about to learn."

And he dropped me, head first into the water that nearly reached his chin. That's easily over my head! At first, I panicked, flipping around like a freaked-out cat. But then I calmed. Listened. The growling semi-silence of being submerged. The muffled rumble of the tide. The slow movement of sound and pressure beneath the water. I held my breath and let myself float up, up. Into Doc's waiting arms. His hands gripped my shoulders, but didn't pull me out, just supported me. Then I pushed, breaking the surface. Gasped.

He was smiling. Not laughing at me. Smiling. I reached for him and he held me close, wrapping me into his chest, close to his heart. My face lay on his shoulder, pressed against the wet fabric of his shirt and he carried me out of the water.

"Thank you, Riley," he whispered as he set my feet on the sand.

I gave him a quizzical blink.

"Thank you for trusting me. That's love, sweetheart." His lips took mine just as the rain started to fall. I felt devoured, and I couldn't get enough of him. It wasn't till the first slow crawl of thunder reached us that we turned, walked back to the house, arm in arm.

JOHN

Well, I hadn't slept a fucking wink in two days. Found out I can't sleep anymore without Riles beside me. Started to wonder what the accident had really done to me. If maybe I was doing some serious clinging too. See, Riles isn't the only one who almost lost everything. Fuck, I almost lost her. Don't even want to be in fucking heaven without her. What the hell was I thinking, sending her off for a visit? I missed her so much it hurt.

Couldn't sleep, so I'd walk around the house till I'd drop, exhausted on the damn empty love seat and tried to imagine her with me under the blue blanket. Ticked off the hours till she'd be home. Sat up and twirl the damn cane in my hand. Fucking cane. Fucking cast. And soon, a fucking brace. It was right to send her off for a visit. Jesus, the poor woman probably hasn't had a decent fuck since before I got hurt.

At least it was Doc. Good man. I trust him, he'll get her to relax, get back into the swing of things. It was a nice, simple place for her to start, ay? Not like I sent her off to see some young stud. At least I was smart enough not to wait till June. I can read a fucking calendar. I knew she was planning to go to Australia with Lachlan. I thought about letting her do that, you know. Wait till June. But Lachlan?

Yeah, I love my Brother. He's been a good friend to her, and a good friend to me. But he really fucking loves her. I can tell. Shit, now that would have been the kiss of death. Her off with him after only being with a gimp for months and months. I did the right thing. And Doc was the right Brother to send her to.

RILEY

I've said it before, and I'll say it again. Jeff Wigand is an insatiable lover. Tender. Gentle. Powerful. God, it got to the point where all he needed to do was look at me and I was almost there. His touch is like fire, kindling me. Sparking me. And his mind. Jesus! That mind! Sharp, intelligent, brilliant. Patient. His words alone brought images of amazing things. The man can communicate and express knowledge like it's a game, something fun and exciting.

Doc's body. So strong, substantial. Full. I've never known a more giving human being. I have to admit, I have never had just sex with Doc. He has always made love to me, always permitted me to make love to him. And that's what we were doing, Jeff and I. Making love. Growing it like a seedling. It scared and excited me.

I was laying in the sun on a beach chair, slathered with sun screen, an unread book on my belly, my eyes closed. Remembering the morning, how Doc brought me breakfast in bed, ate from my fork, kissed my lips and licked syrup from my chin. And I was smiling.

It was the first moment I'd had alone since I had gotten to Catalina Island. Doc had an important conference call that would last at least an hour. When I settled on the lounge chair, I wasn't sure I could do it, sit still and relax, you know. My life had been like a speeding freight train since, hell I can't remember when, maybe since before we moved to Vermont. Even when I sat with John, it was to help him to relax. Most of the time, my mind was formulating strategies for accomplishing everything we needed to do. And then how to do it, myself.

I was feeling like a spinning top. Frustrated because John wanted to do so much, I'd taken to trying to get things done when he was asleep or off to rehab. My body was actually vibrating from the inertia. It took a good twenty minutes of serious meditation before I could feel myself melt into a mellow state, enjoy the warmth of the sun on my skin, and think. Think clearly, that is.

And what do you think I thought about?

Hands.

Yes, hands. John's hands, Bud's hands. Max and Colin and Lachlan's hands. And Doc's hands. Big and gentle, how they feel pressing against my flesh, soothing me after climax, driving me to it. How they look at rest, as he read the paper, peeling carrots. Dialing the phone. How they felt, wet and tender in the shower. Or when they lovingly pulled me close in the middle of the night.

It was four in the morning when he surprised me last. I was aware that he'd gotten out of bed for the bathroom, and I was just slipping back into dream as the bed shifted under his weight. Then the tingles began. I was sleeping on my belly, my absolute favorite sleeping position. We had the windows opened so that the sound of the surf could be part of our dreams, our love making. No sheets or blankets covered me.

Doc's warmth radiated over me and I smiled, envisioning him on hands and knees. The softest of kisses brushed the back of my neck then those kisses trailed the length of my spine. His hands, those wonderful hands, pressed and massaged my waist and he sighed as I trembled. Fingers gently pushed my legs opened, then slithered into the wetness he brought on with his mere nearness. They probed and explored, focused then pressed me to orgasm. So fast, so fucking fast I was shocked. I was shaking and gasping as he lifted my hips and moved in to connect with me. Make us whole. One. Home.

JOHN

Kept myself busy, found things I could do to help Kevin, things to read and go over at night. At least I was sleeping again, and at best, Riles would be home on Sunday. I fussed around, making things neat. Anticipating.

As I was looking at my copy of the Pizzapalooza menu, deciding what I'd have delivered, I heard the tarps move, looked up.

"Dinner," Monica sang, carrying in a cooler and several bags.

"Hey, how ya doing, Monna?" I said, eyeing everything she was pulling out of the bags. The cooler was full of hot food. Hell, I never realized that a cooler would keep things warm too. To me a cooler means beer, and beer means cold. Damn, women are smart creatures. She even brought plates and silverware.

"I'm good," she said, setting everything neatly on the coffee table. "How about you? Enjoying your bachelor week?"

I ignored her question. "What have you got here, a feast?"

"Well," she brushed off her hands, sat on the floor and pointed to the love seat. "Sit, enjoy. I thought you might like a nice meal and some company."

I smacked my lips. Fuck yeah, good food sounded fantastic and I dug in, loading my plate and groaning with pleasure. Nothing like a chef, they can really nourish a man, not just feed him.

"So, where's Andy?" I said, reaching for more potatoes.

"He went to Boston, something he needed to look into for Riley."

I sat back. "Ah, so we're both all alone, huh?"

"Yeah. John, how can you stand it?" she said slowly. "I mean, knowing that Riley is with someone else and all. I'm going nuts, and Andy is just talking to fish mongers."

I leaned toward her, thinking I was gonna impart some deep wisdom or something. But what fell out of my mouth was damn stupid. Even wrong. "I can't stand it, Monna."

She leaned back on outstretched arms. Blinked. "So, there is a hard part to all of this. I knew it was too good to be true."

"No, sweetheart. It's only hard in certain ways to certain people. See," I pushed my plate away. "I got this pretty bad jealousy thing going. I struggle with it all the time, but this is how the Game works. So I deal with it. I'm having a little more trouble this time though. Being alone."

"This time?"

"Yeah, after the accident. I kind of got into a comfortable rut. Being alone with Riles was great. We both sort of got, well stuck."

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Sure."

"How could she do that? I mean leave you, when you're still having a hard time getting around? It seems astonishingly unkind to me."

"Back up, little girl," I said, feeling like I had to defend Riley against a serious misconception. "She didn't leave me, and I can get around fine. I asked her to go. It was time for her to get back into the Game. It's important to keep this Game alive, and there's only one way to do that."

"Oh," she was obviously uncomfortable, twisting her hair in her fingers, staring at her plate.

"Come here, Monna." I said softly. "Come on."

She climbed from the floor and sat beside me. Turned to face me and took a deep breath. I held her hand, tried to talk as gently as I could. "Sweetheart, it's time for you too, you know. You need to ask for a visit. Get to know how this works. Who interests you, Monna? You've met most of us now. Terry? Bud? Lach? Maybe Colin or Max?"

She shook her head, her face was blushing pink.

"Alright, you don't have to tell me. It's for you to decide. But the first step is the hardest. It only gets easier from there, honey. I promise."

Then she fucking blew my mind. Her lips came close and she kissed me. "You," she whispered.

"Me?" Damn I was shocked. Why me? I was a fucking cripple, God sakes. "Monna, for your first visit you deserve better, I - "

"You. I ask for you. First."

Her kiss intensified and I thought my fucking cock would explode right out if my sweats. Me? Jesus fucking Christ.

"Why, Monna?" I asked, my hands in her hair, fingers trailing down her pretty face. "Why me?"

"'Cause I've thought about it since the moment I realized how this world works. Thought about you. Touching me."

That was it. All I fucking needed to hear. Man, I kissed her like there was no tomorrow, my hands pulled at her clothes and she was pulling at mine.

"You wanna go to the bed?" I asked, breathless as all hell.

"No."

Man, it was all happening so fucking fast; I hardly had time to think. I wanted it to be good for her, a jumping off point, you know. Don't get me wrong. I'm always up for a new intriguing experience, and trust me, that qualified on all levels. Monica is gorgeous, different. And her pull is pretty damn strong. Maybe I shouldn't have been surprised, but I was.

She tasted so fucking sweet. Fresh. She reminded me of Donna, the first time we made love. Willing, wanting, excited. Taking her breast into my mouth was like licking sugar, and finding her clit, my hand deep in her jeans was an adventure. Yeah, it was where it was supposed to be, but her body is so different from Riley's, different from any of them. She had a quality of passion and curiosity I've never experienced before quite like that. My mind was fucking swimming in it; I could hardly get my bearings. Not like a lot of thought is required, ay, but I wanted to make sure that when all was said and done; she was loving the Game and not running scared. So I did what I didn't want to do. Fucking Christ, I really didn't want to do it, but I stopped the fucking speeding train.

"Whoa. Whoa, Monica."

Bad move, really bad fucking move. She literally leapt to her feet, glared down at me.

"I'm sorry. Oh John, I'm so sorry." She didn't even gather up her things, just straightened her clothes and headed for the tarp.

"Wait, Jesus fucking Christ, Monna. Wait a minute!" I scramble to stand, dropped my fucking cane and held onto the wall. "Monica, God sakes woman. Hold on a minute!"

She stopped, her back to me, tugging her sweater down over her head. "What?"

"Come back, sweetheart. Come on. Jesus, I can't chase you."

"Nor would you, right?" Fuck, I could hear the tears in her eyes.

"Yes I would, I just . . . fuck, Monna. I just wanted to slow things down a little, that's all. I don't move quite that fast . . . and I'm thinking, neither do you. Come back. Let's do this right, sweetheart."

She leaned against the doorjamb, her head down.

"Please, baby," I whispered.

It took aching minutes but she finally turned, her pretty green eyes full of concern. "I didn't mean to attack you, John. It's just that I think of you so often, and I thought, maybe . . . I don't know."

"What, Monica?"

She was silent.

"Let me tell you what I've been thinking." I sat on the love seat, figuring she wasn't going to run away again. Her eyes were locked on mine. "I think about you too. A lot. Sweetheart, you got one hell of a pull, do you know that? We can all feel it. And so damn beautiful, baby. You just kind of surprised me, that's all."

"Why? I thought this is how it works." Man, I could see her frustration.

"Well, yeah, it is. But me? Shit Monica. Look at me. Fucking broken. Trust me; this isn't the best lay you could bargain for."

Oh man, she smiled that smile. You know that smile women give you when they think you said something really stupid. Kind of tolerant and compassionate. I wanted to get pissed, I hate that smile. But I was like a fucking little boy, just melted under its power.

"John," she said, walking close and standing right in front of me, her pull driving me fucking nuts. "It's you I want first." She reached out her hand and we went to the bedroom.

RILEY

Doc was amazing all week, fun and playful, but our last night together was bittersweet. I was confused, unsure of how to proceed. Uncertain of his feelings, if we were feeling the same thing, thinking the same things. Was this a crush? Or was it what I thought it was. Bigger than the average love. And here's the kicker. This world is so strange, I couldn't wait to go home and tell John all about it. That I was finally whole. But holy shit! Will I ever understand how this works?

With Bud and Darcy, Cort and Izzy, they are two couples. But Doc was alone. No Number One. Was I being unfaithful? Was he coveting another man's Number One? As my mind was twisting and rolling, Doc turned to me, his face on his arm the sheets below his belly.

"Don't sweetheart. Don't do this."

I sighed. "God, Jeff. I feel like I've just found myself. Just survived all the turmoil of my past and John's accident. And suddenly, I'm all confused again."

"It is what it is, Riles. I love you. Have since the minute I saw you. Hell, since before that." He lay back on the pillow, stared up at the ceiling. "Remember that lecture I did at West Virginia University? The reason I was so close to you in Pittsburgh?"

I grinned. "How could I forget that?"

"I lied."

"What?"

"No lecture." He tugged me close, kissed the top of my head. "I wanted to see you."

My heart thumped. And I wanted to see him. Couldn't wait the entire three weeks until our first visit. Told him I wished there was some way to see him sooner. "We are on the same page, aren't we," I whispered.

"Yes, we are."

"How does this work?"

He shrugged. "This world is about love. But I know where I stand, sweetheart. That I'm pretty far down the list behind John."

"Not that far, Jeff."

He pulled me over him, kissed my mouth, his soft, hot tongue slowly making its way in. "Just want to be able to love you. See you."

I couldn't help it, was sure I was saying the wrong thing, but it came out. "We'll work it out."

***

The minute Doc left me at the airport that excited feeling that I wanted to share my new found knowledge with John melted away. What the hell was he going to think? I changed my ticket, flew north to San Rafael. When Darcy answered the door, I thought she'd go nuts. She was so excited. I hadn't told her I was in California. Hadn't told her about Doc. Actually hadn't told anyone. Hell, I didn't know myself.

After the squeals and hugs, she led me to the kitchen, plopped an ashtray between us and started a pot of coffee. "Boy, do you have perfect timing, Riles. Just made a pie today."

I sniffed. "Mmm, apple. I love your apple pie!"

"See, must've known you were coming." She carved a wedge of pie, poured coffee, lit a cigarette then looked strait into my eyes. "Now. Why are you here?"

Ain't getting anything past her. I sighed, tried to smile. "Darce," fingered my napkin. "I think I might be into some kind of, I don't know, love."

"Yeah, so how is Sweetness?"

Damn, the way she blinked, her quick mind processing my expression almost immediately. "Oh."
Now she was fingering her napkin.

I lit a cigarette. Shit, hadn't even thought about a cigarette the whole time I was in Catalina Island.

"You need to talk, hon?"

I nodded, but nothing came out of my mouth.

"Lach?" she asked.

Shook my head.

"Terry?"

"No."

"Colin? It's Colin isn't it?"

"No Darce."

She swallowed hard, cleared her throat. "Bud?"

"No. Darcy, it's Doc."

"Oh," was all she said. She stood, poured more coffee, folded and refolded the pretty napkins she keeps on her counter, actually walked out of the kitchen then came back a moment later. She sat and looked right at me. I swallowed, had no clue what was going to come out of her mouth.

"Ah," I croaked through a dry throat.

"Listen, Riley. I need to tell you something. Something I don't think you know. I almost took Doc as my Number One a long time ago. But that was before Bud, before Jeff." Now it was her turn to swallow hard. "Before Cort."

"I didn't know that."

"Yeah, well I don't talk about it much. Have a little guilt. See, I hurt him. He thought - "

I moved to a chair closer. Touched her hand. "Darcy, he's fine, and he loves you."

"I know. I know." Her blue eyes shot into mine. "Don't hurt him, Riles. He's such a good man. And he deserves to be loved. Really, he does."

"I won't hurt - " And that's when the ton of bricks slammed into me. Jesus Christ! What the hell was I thinking? At that moment, we both said the exact same thing.

"John."

I rubbed my eyes. "This is bad. Really, really bad, isn't it."

"No, no, Riles. It's the Game, and it's all right to love Doc. Even to be in love with him. But John, wow. John may not take it so good."

"No, Darce, I think you're misunderstanding me. I don't think I'm in love with Doc. I mean, it's more than it should be. And he just kinda crept up into my heart, you know."

She nodded.

"Maybe it's because he's alone. But whatever it is, I feel like this is a bad thing, even in Perve world. And I wouldn't hurt John. Ever. Never, Darce. Never!"

"Okay, calm down. Let's think this through. What do you want this to be, Riles?"

I shrugged, "I don't know. I guess whatever it's supposed to be." I looked into her concerned eyes. "He means a lot to me."

"And what does he want it to be? Has he told you?"

"He just wants to see me. He's not asking a lot. Certainly not too much. How does this work?'

Darce groaned. "I guess it works as long as everyone is okay with it. You have to tell John. It's not like he won't be able to notice you're visiting Doc more often."

I slumped in the seat, pulled my cell and dialed home.

"Not now!" Darcy squealed.

I shook my head, assuring her I had something else to say.

"Hey! You home from rehab?" I asked in answer to John's breathless hello.

"Nope. Can't you hear me sweating?" he teased.

"Sure can. Hey John. I did something."

"What?" I heard weights clank.

"Well, I figured since I'm on the west coast, I'd stop by and surprise Darcy. Having a piece of pie with her as we speak." I was sure he'd get all giddy, ask to talk with her.

"So, you're not coming home tonight."

The disappointment in his voice almost broke my heart. "I'm sorry John. I can get the first flight out, I'll be there by morning."

"No," he groaned. "That's nuts, baby. Have your visit with Darce. Just let me know when you'll be home." He was silent a moment. "I need you home, Riles." It was a whisper.

And I needed to be home. "I love you, John." I hung up, picked up my purse and headed for the door.

"Where the hell are you going?" Darcy said, close on my heels.

"Home."

***

Is there anything worse than the red-eye flight west to east? Especially when your brain is bursting with questions and concerns? I didn't sleep, was actually afraid to, worried about wasting whole hours of problem solving time in dream city. God, I was confused. I wanted to feel good about the wonderful time I had with Doc, wanted to feel good about getting home to John. Hell, I just wanted to feel good.

By the time I could see the horizon brighten; I think I was a zombie. But that was a good thing, because only the most important things remained in my head to be dissected.

Check. There was a good possibility I was overreacting. After all, I hadn't been on a visit for a very long time. The normal pull, the luscious relaxation, the sun and surf could have all combined to make me think this thing with Doc was more than it was, right? Nope. It was more.

Check. The real issue wasn't that I was feeling strongly about Doc, it was that Doc was alone. That was true, no rebuttal there.

Check. John would be angry, jealous, maybe even bitter about it. Didn't even want to think about how that was going to play out.

Check. I loved John more than anyone or anything. He comes first. Forever and without question.

So my options were simple. To tell him, or not to tell him. And that I'd decided when I saw him. Stood in front of him. Looked into his eyes. Groan.

JOHN

Groan. Another whole fucking day to wait, or more. I guess it made sense for Riles to stop and see Bud and Darcy. It's not like we get to the west coast all that often, even when I'm not all fucking busted up. So I talked myself out of being disappointed. Shit, it only leads to me being pissed, and what good would that do anyway?

Monica had stayed Thursday night and Friday night with me, leaving in the wee hours before any of the workers arrived. I worried about her driving, so tired and all. But when she left Saturday at the butt crack of three AM, she was all grins. Andy was coming home, and I think our new Sister was finally all right with the Game. Not that I did anything all that great. But I did what I could. Not that hard, God sakes. She's easy to love. They all are.

So, there I was Sunday night, staring at the fucking ceiling in the dark. Alone. Ah, fuck.

RILEY

As soon as I got in to Burlington, I called Monica. It was early and I think I woke her.

"Hey, sweetie. Can you do a favor for me?"

She yawned. "Anything."

"I'm at the airport, taking the shuttle into Stowe. I'll be there around seven. Would you mind taking me home?"

"Ah, no. Not at all."

"And don't tell John. I want to surprise him, okay."

"Of course."

I slept on the shuttle, so deeply that the driver had to shake me awake. I was the last one off and could see Monica eyeing my luggage and scanning the darkened windows.

Stepping from the bus with a squint, I was shocked at how green things had gotten in Vermont. Spring had most certainly sprung, painfully burning my tired eyes. "Coffee," I growled and she grinned, helped me get my bags into her car and we headed to Bonnie's Café for espresso to go.

Behind the wheel, Monica was quiet. So quiet I started to feel a little uncomfortable.

"Hey," I said, my brain finally sharpening under the influence of the wonderful, rich caffeine. "I'm sorry I woke you. I promise, I'll never take advantage of you like this again."

She pulled to the side of the road, stared at the steering wheel silently. Man, I was sure she was going to read me the riot act. After all, it was really inconsiderate of me to just assume she'd be happy to drive me. I could have gotten a cab, God sakes.

"It's okay. Whatever you want to say is fine, Monna. Just say it. I hate when people hold shit inside. It just gets bigger and bigger until --"

"Riley," she turned to me. "Um."

I waited, sure that whatever poured out of her mouth, I deserved.

"I spent some time with John this week."

Well hell, that wasn't what I expected. I blinked. A tiny spark of warmth grew in my heart, swelled until I could feel it in my face, in my smile. I reached over and grasped her hand.

"That's great, Monica. It's so good for you to get into the Game. Get all the love you deserve."

"Huh? You're not upset with me? I mean, I almost attacked him. I was so lonely with Andy away."

"Why would I be upset?" I unsnapped my seatbelt and hugged her. "It's a good thing, Monica."

"Oh." She pulled back on to the road and drove toward the Inn. "I know there=s a procedure, and I should have asked for him. I didn't realize I wanted him until, well . . ."

I just laughed. "So, who will you ask for next"

I could see the blush climb over her cheeks. "Bud."

"Ahh, good choice, Sister. Very good choice." I giggled.

***

We pulled into the drive, swerved around equipment and got as close to the house as we could. Four men ran over to haul luggage and Monica and I hugged goodbye. "You don't want to see John?" I teased.

"Oh please, give me time to adjust to all this," she rolled her eyes and drove away.

"Later," I called with a chuckle.

Picking my way through mud and mammoth equipment, I stopped several times to ask where John was. Nothing but shrugs. My mind went into overdrive. What if something happened? If he was sick? I ran into the house through the door, charged under the tarp and into the bedroom.

The bed was made, everything neat and clean. Jeeze, even his dirty socks were nowhere in sight. If there is one complaint I have about John Biebe, it's that he leaves smelly sock balls all over the house. Granted, there were half as many with the cast on one leg, but still, ew!

Where the hell was he? It was far too early for his rehab. Too late for him to still be in town eating breakfast. John was adamant about being on site during all the activity. Huh.

So I went exploring. Stood in the space that was once my kitchen and closed my eyes. A swirl of magical memories floated in my mind. I remembered the voices of all the Family who had been in that dilapidated room. The laughter. The tears. How Mere and Hando trashed the place on Christmas Eve, a food fight that ended up extremely erotic. Max's voice when he came to see the land. Darcy when she brought Sophie home from Pittsburgh. Poor Darcy, bruised and battered. Strong as steel. And John, the sound of his newspaper rustling as coffee brewed. I will miss that old ugly kitchen for the rest of my life.

The sound of John's voice pulled me back to the present.

"How's that?" He was shouting, the sound muffled behind a wall of tarps.

I pulled the blue plastic aside and gasped. "Oh my God!"

The forms were up for the greenhouse dining room, the metal blazing in the morning sunshine, the cement floor level and solid. I looked up at the arched and curved points. It looked like a cathedral! Eighty feet long and thirty feet wide, the space was remarkable, almost exactly as it would look when finished, the sun streaming in from every angle, the mountain beautiful to the west and trees all around. I couldn't believe how much of it was already up, how far it had progressed in eight days.

"Better, ay?" John shouted. He was at the distant corner of the skeletal space, supporting an aluminum beam, his cane hanging on his belt loop and looking up at Kevin perched at the pinnacle.

"Perfect!" Kevin yelled. "Hey! Look whose home. Queen Biebe! Your servants await your every command." He gave a regal bow that almost toppled him from the framing.

"Jesus! Careful!" I shouted and John turned.

He unhooked his cane, but barely used it as we moved toward each other, meeting in the center of the beautiful space Nash had designed for us.

Home. Home. There is no other way to describe how I felt in John's arms. Yes, Doc was part of it, but John was the essence, the heart. The very center of my life.

"Let's get the fuck out of here," John groaned between kisses, desperate kisses that made my heart shake and tremble with joy.

"Where?" I giggled, looking around at all the men and machines. Everything and everyone, including Kevin up on the top of the world, had stopped to watch.

"Town. We'll get a room at the Freemont Inn. I can't wait till all these Bozos leave tonight. I want you. Now." Kiss. "Now." Kiss. "Now."

"I should pack something."

"No. Now." He was dragging me, my hand in his, the cane moving fast and sure, his thigh, so much stronger than it had been. Applause thundered from the crew until Kev gave a shout and they all hopped back to work.

***

Marlene at the Freemont was thrilled to give us a room.

"By the hour, John? Or for the night?" She teased.

"Oh Marlene, what I got planned will take much more than an hour," he grinned as he signed the register.

"Glad you're home, Riley. This poor man looked like a lost puppy without you."

We went (dare I say ran?) to the room, and barely got the door closed before everything became a frenzy of sexual excitement.

Since the first time John and I touched, I've had the feeling that it was more than the pull, more than this world that drew us together. And we both have said often, that we'd be together if we'd met in the other world, hell in any world. It seemed as though all the mismatched cogs in my life had fallen into place, that the universe had a shot at moving smoothly. John was the missing piece. The answer.

Even our passion felt choreographed, designed for the fullest pleasure, sensitive and powerful, smooth and flowing. I couldn't describe the feeling of his hands or his mouth. I could only sense it all and all at once. I can't tell you who came first; we came, and came again and again. I'm not sure which position felt better, they all were wonderful, whatever the hell they were.

Our lovemaking, unlike what I'd most recently experienced with Doc, was not making love. For John and me, lovemaking had become something else. Lovebeing. Loveknowing. Lovesensing.

John lived in my heart and I lived in his. Home. I wondered who completed that sensation of home for John. Darcy? Iz? Was it Nat or maybe Monna? Looking at John's face, radiating with so much giving, so much of himself, always right there on the surface, I was sure I'd found the answer. They all did that for John. They all completed that feeling of home for him. That was John's weapon in his battle against jealousy. To love them all, to be fair, to take what's offered and offer as much of himself in return. Then, to see that in me. Maybe, just maybe my confession about Doc would go all right after all.

***

The luxury of skin to skin, my body intertwined with John's was comforting. Perfect. He told me of all the problems and progress with the construction, about what he did with his time, what he read and who he chatted with on IM. John talked about his feelings, his insecurities and the progress he'd made working with Francine.

"So, how about you, baby. Did you relax? Have a good time?"

"Yes and yes. I missed you. Thought about you so much, about everything going on here. But I think I really got a better perspective on things too. You know how distance helps with that."

"So," he cuddled me closer. "What's you're perspective now?"

"Well," I trailed my finger, circling the old scar on his shoulder. "I'm thinking that maybe I can't do it all. Maybe I can't really cover all the bases, and maybe . . . what are you laughing at?"

John was rolling on the bed, giggling like a lunatic.

"Am I being funny?"

"Yes," he wiped tears from his eyes, rolled over me and kissed me till I was melting like a puddle under him.

"Hey. Let me finish, laughing man," I joked. "I was thinking that maybe I want, and I emphasis the word want, to do only what I'm best at. So, Queen Biebe is retiring her crown, but just until the kitchen opens. I am officially resigning from construction royalty."

John slid to his side, smiled into my eyes. "You did a wonderful job, baby. And I'm grateful. You kept things moving ahead when I couldn't. Not too many people could have done it, and no one could have done it the way you did. Maybe I haven't said this before, but thanks, Riles."

"John?"

"Yeah?"

"Have I ever thanked you?"

"Every day, baby. Every night. Every time you touch me. Every time you come home to me."

"I love you," I whispered, nearly choked on the emotion and the dread crawling into my heart. "John?"

"Yeah, baby?"

"Would you mind if I saw Doc more often?"

I could feel him tighten. He drew in a breath, let it out real slow. "Why?"

"I like him, John. I . . . love him."

John didn't move away, but I could feel his energy vibrate, his frustration and anger accelerate, and his insecurities grow out of control. "You love him." Even his voice was shaking.

I leaned up on my elbow, looked into his eyes. The eyes I love so much they make me tremble. There was anger there, but there was more than that, there was fear. "John, listen. If you tell me not to see him, I won't see him."

"You love him." He repeated, refusing to focus on me, staring up at the ceiling.

"Yes." I said it as softly as I could, hating myself for telling him, for feeling what I was feeling.

"More than Lach?"

God, my throat was so dry I could hardly talk. "Yes, John."

Finally, his eyes shot to mine, brows curled. "More than me?"

"No! Jesus, John. No, no, no. Listen, please, baby, forget all about this. I won't see him. You are everything to me. I came home to you."

"But first you went to Darce. Did you compare notes?" His voice was bitter.

My heart started to shake in my chest and terror crawled up my throat. A horrible taste from my past. But I fought every urge to run and curl up in the corner, to protect myself against his anger. I'd promised John that I would trust him. Trust that he would never hit me, and I would keep that promise.

"We did not compare notes, John. Tell me what you want me to do." Tears blurred my vision, tears for John, for Doc. For me. "I will do whatever you say. Anything."

"Give me a minute." He growled, charged into the bathroom. I heard the shower, heard the cabinet doors slam. He was in there a long time.

Jesus, I wanted to go to him, do something, anything to make him feel better. How could I do that? Jesus, I'm an ass.

I dressed and sat on the bed, waited. When he came out, he was wrapped in a towel, still soaked, even the cast dripping. He sat beside me, not close enough to touch me, but close enough to indicate he wanted to talk.

"Listen to me, Riley." He sighed, looking ahead, not at me. And I did the same.

"Yes."

"I do know this Game. And I know this shit happens. I'm gonna tell you something I have no fucking right to say, but I'm saying it. I will not give you up."

"Give me up? Is that what you think I was asking you?" I turned, stared at his profile.

"No, but as this goes on, you need to know, I am not rolling over. Not again, and never, ever where you're concerned."

"I'm glad to hear that." Maybe it was a stupid thing to say, but it's what I felt. And it was kinda funny. John wasn't laughing.

His arm came around me, and he pulled me close.

"So, now what?" I asked.

He shrugged, kiss the top of my head. "We just play the Game, baby. Hope we can survive."

I turned, put my hand on his face. "I meant it, John. I won't see him. I'll do whatever -- "

"No. Riley you do too much of that shit. I mean, you're way too fucking accommodating, always giving something up for me or someone else. Always willing to do whatever it takes to make everyone else happy. Not this time. Not this. I mean, fuck. Doc is a man. He shouldn't be sacrificed like that. Nobody should. Not here."

His lips brushed mine.

"This is for me to get over. I gotta do some trusting here, baby. I'm going to trust this world, and trust our love. That's that. Alright?"

"All right, but . . ."

"But what?"

"There's something else, John. Doc wants a suite."

"What? A permanent suite? In the Family tower? Jesus!"

"Calm down, John." I held him tight, turned and straddled his lap. "Doc does a lot of work here in the east. Lectures and consulting. He stays in hotels. He just needs a home base, that's all."

"He just wants to be close to you, Riley."

I smiled, "John. I told him, having a suite is fine. But having me when you're home is absolutely out of the question."

"And he fucking agreed to that?"

"Yes, and John."

"What?" It was clipped, almost a shout.

"You're starting to sound like Bud." I grinned then kissed him like mad.