“Jesus Christ, Tara. Are you sh*tting me?”

“No ... you heard me.”

“You don’t really mean it.”

“Oh yes, I do. I’m completely serious, Justin.”

Silence.

“This is a crock of sh*t, do you know that?”

“Then we have a crock of sh*t, I guess. We’ve got a crock of shit for three days.”

“Do you mind explaining why we even have to do this? After Atlanta you think my mom’s gonna expect anything different? She already knows we’re f*cking, T!”

“F*cking? Justin, you know I hate--”

“Okay, okay, sorry. You know I don’t mean it like that, I just can’t stop saying it ... anyway, she knows we’re together. You think she didn’t catch on since we’ve been together for almost a month living in each other’s houses and sh*t? She was fine when you were in my room in Atlanta, baby. You even stopped sneaking around, remember?”

“I don’t care about Atlanta ... I blocked out that whole incident in my mind and I don’t ever want to talk about it again. Besides, that was in a hotel -- this is her house and it’s different … it’s just rude! I’m not gonna do it, I don’t care how much you bitch and complain. Just ... deal with it.”

“I guess I don’t have a choice, do I? And it’s four days, not three. Four f*cking days,” Justin zipped up his suitcase angrily and tossed it off the bed onto the floor. “You’re acting f*cking ridiculous, Tara. It’s not rude when you’re my girlfriend. I’m telling you, she’s expecting it.” He crossed his arms and scowled over at me.

I was zipping up my ever-present backpack after checking to make sure I had everything I needed for the flight, especially my journal. We were leaving the Toronto hotel in a little while to go to the airport, and then head to Tennessee. I was meeting the family for the first time and as shaky as I already felt, Justin’s newest tantrum wasn’t making things any easier.

“Can you please not do this?” I asked in an unsteady voice. “I’m already scared about meeting everybody and you’re the only person I have to count on and even know, so if you’re going be mad at me then maybe I should just go home instead.” A sure sign of me being unsettled was run-on sentences; I’d start rambling on and on until I ran out of breath. Justin was more than used to it by them and walked over to give me a hug.

“T, don’t get upset,” he said softly, rubbing my back soothingly. “What’re you so worried about?”

Was he kidding?

I buried my face in his chest and wished I could stay hidden there forever. “Um, hello? You’re taking me into the Deep South to meet your family ... and as much as we both try to avoid saying it, your white family. Do they all know I’m black, Justin? What about your grandparents? You saw how Sasha’s dad acted and I know how my dad would act and I’m not like you, I’m not that confident, I care if they don’t like me and if they--”

“Stop,” he pulled my head back from his chest and covered my mouth with his hand. “You’re about to f*cking hyperventilate.” He moved a few steps back and suddenly was sitting on the bed, with me safe in his lap. Stroking my hair, he began the task of calming me down. “Let’s do this one at a time ... we’re going to Tennessee and yeah, some people consider it to be the Deep South but aren’t you supposed to be from the Dirty South anyway?” Leaning back, he flashed a grin at me and I smiled back just a little.

“And yeah, my family’s white -- they’ve been white ever since we met, baby. You met my mom and everything was fine. My grandparents raised her and me, so if we don’t have any prejudice it’s because of them, you know.”

He was actually making sense. I wasn’t steady as a rock or anything, but I felt calmer than before. A little.

“I mean, I didn’t call them and say, ‘hey y’all, my new girlfriend is 23, smart, beautiful, has this huge, gorgeous ass and oh yeah, by the way, she’s black,” he kept talking, still running his hands through my hair. He actually made me laugh, something I would’ve thought impossible a few minutes before. “I told them about you ... what you’re like, things you’ve done and why I love you.”

Awww ... I was definitely beginning to feel better.

“And my mom probably told them, if you’re wondering if we’re gonna roll up there and shock them or something,” he was really in a talkative mood. “Because I know they asked what you look like -- my grandma and grandpa are almost as close to me as my Momma, T, and they only care about the same sh*t she does.”

“Like what?” I murmured, still curled up in his lap like a cat. Although I was somewhat calmer, my head was sort of achy and I just didn’t feel one hundred percent.

“Am I happy ... the same thing I told you when you were scared about meeting Momma.”

I vaguely remembered us talking about that in Atlanta before. “And that’s me, right? That’s what makes you happy?” Yeah ... I know I was running it into the ground but sh*t, I loved hearing him tell me that.

I could tell he was smiling by the sound of his voice. “Most of the time,” he answered noncommittally.

Say what?

I raised my head. “Most of the time? That’s not the right answer, Justin,” I scowled at him like he scowled at me earlier.

He shrugged and his eyes turned again, now that I was soothed out of my bad mood. “It’s true, baby ... right now, I could definitely be a lot happier but you’ve decided to make me miserable ... so an honest answer would be most of the time.”

Hmph. Didn’t take a rocket scientist to see where he was headed with that thought.

“All of this is because I don’t want to have sex?”

Just wanted to make sure I had everything straight.

Nodding, he sighed pitifully as I got ready to pull out my pretend violin and buy into his ‘woe is me’ act. The drama, the drama ... “It’s only for a few days, my God! I would just feel really weird sleeping with you, like, getting up in the morning and eating breakfast, sitting around the table like its normal--”

“It is normal,” he interrupted but I ignored him, all caught up in my explanation.

“And we’d have to try to be totally quiet which never happens ... it’s just a bad idea,” I concluded our little debate, because as far as I was concerned there was no debate. No sex in the Harless house. Not between him and me anyway.

He let out a disgusted sigh. “Fine. Whatever. I won’t press you about it anymore.”

Somewhere, sometime before, I’d heard this spiel before -- I eyed him suspiciously. “And don’t pull that contact high sh*t, either.”

He had the nerve to actually look offended. He so was considering pulling that same sh*t, it was written all over his guilty face.

Sneaky creep.

Luckily I had to something else to him to lessen his chances of sex even further.

“And just so you know, I think my period’s coming today or tomorrow.” Heh. Not that he had a problem with sex then, he just knew I did. “And we’re not going to be exchanging any long, sweet “I love you's” to decrease my resolve this time, either.”

Just like I suspected, he looked crushed.

Good.

“It’s time already?” He lay back on the bed, brow creased as I sat on his legs. He looked like he was thinking really hard. I put him out of his misery.

“It’s actually past time,” I reminded him. “Remember when the hospital didn’t give me my pills?”

He thought for a second and nodded.

“It threw my cycle off a little so I’m late. The doctor said it would happen.... and I’m pretty sure it’s coming because I feel like crap and going to Tennessee isn’t making me feel any better.”

Really, it wasn’t. For the past few days I’d had a horrible headache that I couldn’t get rid of. Justin though I was making myself sick because my nerves were so on edge and I agreed; meeting his family was making me a nervous wreck. I’d even thrown up once when we were eating dinner -- he was telling me about how his step mom had gotten sick and his mom had actually taken care of his brothers for a little while, something I thought was amazingly sweet, then I started thinking about how nice his family seemed and it all seemed like way too much to live up to, you know? Like they were all so giving and selfless -- I mean, taking in kids that are your ex’s with another woman? That’s some serious selflessness.

And I was pretty much just a brat. I wasn’t mean or evil but I wouldn’t call myself overly generous. I tried to be, you know, my mom made me volunteer occasionally and I did whatever charity stuff my sorority organized, but I was pretty much a self-absorbed brat. Sasha and I lived a pointless existence -- at least Jen went to school and actually did do things like volunteer. In the meantime, Sasha and I sat around watching television and shopping, when we could’ve at least done something charitable a few hours a week. All those thoughts rolled around my head and the next thing I knew I was running for the bathroom.

If there’s one thing I never wanted Justin to see me doing, it was throwing up. Hell, I didn’t want any guy seeing me do that, but he was right there, holding my hair. If I hadn’t been so busy hurling, I would’ve told him to go away. How embarrassing, right? Now I know that, sad as it sounds, Justin’s seen people throw up way too many times and it doesn’t bother him. If someone throws up or even spits in front of me I get queasy -- I’m a real girly girl -- but let me tell you, being around ‘N Sync forces you to suck it up really quickly. Those guys (and by guys I’m including bodyguards, crew, friends and the group) are gross and sometimes compete to make each other sicker.

One time there was this fan that drank too much and got sick in a hotel room, like, she lost control of her bodily functions from both ends -- if you know what I mean -- and instead of someone, oh, I don’t know, say helping her, Steve whipped out his video camera and recorded it so everyone could see. There’s a whole bunch of moments like that floating around in his little video collection and every once in awhile on the bus everybody sits and watches it. It grosses me out and to Justin’s credit, it grosses him out, too.

I don’t know if it was being with me or maybe just him growing up, but he stopped being into that gross kind of humor and acting as silly the longer we went out. In a way it was good, I mean, I wasn’t so much excited about dating someone who thought fart humor was cool stuff, you know? But on the other hand, he started to get a little full of himself and almost lost all of his sense of humor. I don’t know. He’s such a contradiction -- he can do a complete 180, like go from being silly and goofing around to intelligent and composed to snotty and obnoxious. I loved him so much but he got to be so hard to understand and deal with...

How did I get into that from talking about me being nervous?

“I guess I forgot,” he replied. “I’m glad you’re better, baby.” Pulling on my arm until I was laying with him, he squeezed me tightly. “Look, don’t be nervous, okay? If I thought things were gonna be sh*tty, you know I wouldn’t bring you.”

I totally believed that -- if he thought my feelings would get hurt, he would’ve made up something, anything so that I wouldn’t go with him. He’s one of those old-fashioned kind of guy, chivalrous and all that. But he wasn’t telling me anything that I didn’t already know. It wasn’t like I expected his family to come out wearing Klan robes or anything; I was just worried that they wouldn’t like me.

“I’m trying to relax, I swear,” I told him, snuggling into the curve of his neck. “It’ll just be good once I get there and meet everyone, you know? It’s just.... fear of the unknown, I think. I’ll be fine once I just get the initial meeting over with.” At least that’s what I hoped.

He pinched my side, making me jump. “And then you’ll stop making yourself sick, okay? I just got your ass out of the hospital; I don’t wanna have to take you back.” He gave me a serious look. “Alright? Stop being sick.”

Pressing my mouth against his neck, I blew hard to make a loud noise. “Is that an order?”

“You know I run things, girl. Damn straight it’s an order.”

Oh really?

“If you’re really running things, how come just a couple of minutes ago you were begging me for some?” I lifted my head to smirk at him. Hanging around him had taught me a lot, especially how to smirk.

He groaned and tried to push my head back down against him. “I forgot all about that. Why, t? Why? What if I get us a hotel room and we just sneak away for a few hours? Then we wouldn’t be doing it in the house, even though nobody cares.” He had gotten an idea in his head and was totally running with it. Instead of arguing with him because I wasn’t giving up on this one no matter how many hotel rooms he rented, I lay my head on his chest and let him ramble on. Ranting Justin was something normal for me and normal was what I needed just then. And ranting Justin obliged because he didn’t shut up until Mike came to take us to the airport, almost an hour later.

Ready or not, I was going into the Deep South. I just hoped the Deep South was ready for me.

*~*

“I can’t believe you grew up so close to Graceland,” I said for the fiftieth time and Justin shook his head while Paul laughed. “If I lived here I’d probably go there everyday.” Elvis was truly my King, and Justin’s mom and grandmother loved him, too. His grandfather had even played in his backup band for a short while -- so you know I grilled him for every detail possible.

“I assume you’ll be going there before you leave,” he told Justin, who nodded.

“Tomorrow,” he groaned. He liked Elvis as much as I did, but he was putting on an act like he was being forced to go, sighing and being dramatic. He was in his element, surrounded by a bunch of people who adored him and that he felt comfortable with. I’d never seen him so relaxed and happy before. He was totally ... himself, if that makes any sense. Whenever he’s in Tennessee with his family, he’s more himself than anywhere else.

“That’s right!” Lynn chimed in from her spot on the love seat that she and Paul, Justin’s step dad, were sitting on. “We’re going after lunch tomorrow, I already called and arranged for tickets.”

We’d just finished dinner over at his grandparent’s house -- a late dinner, since we got into town so late -- and were talking a little before going to bed. There wasn’t a time change but I was exhausted, mostly because of my bout of nerves, which had been for nothing.

Trace met us at the airport as planned, and we went straight to his house. It was nice, a sort of standard Southern house you see on those old country roads with lots of land around it. His grandparents’ house was right next door, and he and Trace spent the whole ride telling me about all the crazy adventures they’d had growing up there, running around in the woods and creeks. It looked and sounded like an awesome place to grow up.

“My boyfriend’s a hick,” I murmured as Justin pulled on a dirty, old baseball cap the second we got out of the car and.

“He can even do the Achy Breaky Heart dance,” Trace confided, and for once I didn’t mind him being around.

“What?!” I screeched, forgetting about my headache and jumpy stomach. “He what?!”

Dear God.

I didn’t know whether to laugh at him or cry for myself. But Lynn came outside just then and I was able to put the whole horrible incident out of my mind. I met her husband Paul, a really nice man who Justin thinks is amazing, too. We went inside and they showed me around the normal, all-American house. It wasn’t too big or too small, not too fancy but very comfortable. It was perfect.

Except for one thing.

They had dogs.

Nobody ever told me they had dogs. You couldn’t shut Justin up ninety percent of the time -- I mean, I knew where there was a crack in the wall in the basement of the house because of some stunt he and Trace came up with when they were kids. You’d think he would mention a beloved family pet.

Or three.

I’ve never mentioned that I hate dogs, and cats and pretty much all animals other than goldfish and even they are sort of yucky because of how the water gets but anyway.... I don’t like dogs. When I was three I got bit by this huge German Shepherd and ever since then I’ve hated all dogs except for one -- Jen got a puppy when we were in high school and I liked him. But only because he was so tiny when she got him that no one could be scared of him, and they trained him really well so he never barked or jumped on me -- that’s the only reason I liked him. But I didn’t lay around with him or anything, and rarely did I touch him.

That’s why I wanted to murder him when we were all in the kitchen, having put our luggage away, and his grandparents came over. The second they opened the screen door, these big, slobbering things bounded inside and headed straight for Justin, barking like crazy. Naturally, since I was standing right next to him, they surrounded me too. In all the commotion, no one noticed that I was petrified with fear, but they did notice when I started sneezing -- did I mention I’m allergic to dogs, too?

It didn’t look like my visit to Tennessee was going to turn out so great after all.

Lynn shooed the dogs away and got me some allergy medicine that she had while I met Justin’s grandparents. Now that I know them better, I can see that they were totally checking me out -- if I thought Lynn was bad with her Justin worship, I had entered a whole new level. They were ten times worse than she ever was; they practically thought Justin walked on water. Anyway, they were very nice and welcoming and at the time I didn’t suspect a thing, but now I know they were probably scrutinizing every detail about me. But hey, I don’t blame them; I would’ve done the same thing had I been them. The important part is that everyone was more than friendly and as nice as they could be, allaying my fears.

But I still was a little shaky, especially during dinner. Everything was delicious; there was fried chicken, mashed potatoes, green beans, sweet potatoes, corn on the cob, biscuits and of course, peach cobbler for dessert. I ate everything on my plate; in fact I ate as much as I could stuff into my stomach. Grandma put her foot in that meal, if you know what I’m saying. Neither Justin nor I spoke until we finished eating, it was that good. But right after I finished the peach cobbler with ice cream, I felt it -- I was going to get sick again. I just thank the Lord for letting me realize what was going on and giving me enough time to politely excuse myself, because I would’ve killed myself if they knew I was sick. I was doing okay with a first impression but somehow regurgitating the meal his grandmother had slaved over didn’t seem like the best idea.

My doctor had told me that I might have a rough period this time, since the hospital had screwed around with giving me my pills and was he ever right. Just as I predicted, it started -- on the plane, of all places -- and I was cramping like crazy. That was okay, I mean, you expect cramps, but this nausea stuff was getting old. I chalked it up to still being a little nervous, because I was -- everything was going great and I expected it to stay that way, but I figured it would be another day or so before I was totally at ease.

So I gargled with Listerine and returned to the table with no one suspecting a thing. We talked for bit about nothing in particular; it was mostly us listening to Justin fill everyone in on the horror that was the movie in Toronto. They talked about the lawsuit with his record company, too, and I was glad because it took the attention off of me not eating anything else. Other than my little secret bathroom visit, the night was relaxing. So relaxing that time slipped away and it was almost eleven o’clock before we left. That’s usually the time Justin’s evenings begin but we were on grandparents’ time and they were already up way past their bedtime. But we were both tired anyway from the flying and the food, heck I was always tired from trying to keep up with Justin’s schedule.

But back to the Graceland conversation.

“I can’t wait,” I told Paul, flashing Lynn a big smile. “I’ve wanted go there forever, thank you so much for arranging it!”

Nobody could ever figure out why I was such a big Elvis fan but I’d always been one since I can remember. I just liked him -- the good, the bad, the fat -- and I’d always tried to get my parents to go to Graceland for one of our family vacations, in fact I’d begged and pleaded but they wouldn’t even consider it. One year I even sulked all around Paris because they wouldn’t go to Tennessee or Boston (when I was into the New Kids I was on this big kick to go to Boston, too). So I was really excited about the next day.

Lynn yawned, covering her mouth with her hand. “You’re so welcome, honey, I love going there too. I don’t why but I never seem to get tired of it,” she smiled back. “Speaking of tired, that’s exactly what I am right now so I think we’re gonna go ahead and hit the sack, right, honey?” She glanced at Paul who nodded and they both stood up.

Ever the mother, she made sure I was set for the night. “There’s more allergy stuff in the bathroom and plenty of blankets in the closet if you get cold,” she told me as they started walking out of the room. “And sleep in as late as you want, we’re gonna just hang around the house until we go to Graceland.”

“Thanks,” I said, feeling warm and happy. Everyone was being so nice, and other than the dogs, I couldn’t think of a single thing to be worried about. “I’ll be fine ... see you in the morning. Good night.”

“‘Night,” Justin echoed my words and they disappeared upstairs with their own chorus of ‘good night’. “Finally!” he exhaled, grabbing me and pulling me onto his lap.

“Finally what?” I kicked off my Nikes and curled my feet up so that I was sitting completely in his lap, sniffing his cologne. We’d been up for over sixteen hours and he still smelled delicious.

“We’re alone,” he sighed dramatically, like we hadn’t been alone in months. If you didn’t count Mike, which we usually didn’t since he was with us so much, we were together alone almost all the time. “I missed you.”

Well ... I wasn’t going to bitch about that. “How could you miss me when I’ve been with you all day?” I slid a hand underneath his shirt and rubbed his stomach, not in a sexual way at all. I just wanted to touch him. Because we were always alone, either in hotel rooms or my house or his house or whatever, we spent most of our time touching, hugging or something but it wasn’t appropriate around his family, you know? Even he knew it. It wasn’t something we’d talked about really, laying off the affectionate behavior we were both addicted to, it was just understood. So all day long, other than holding hands here and there I hadn’t had any Justin hugs and I really needed those.

He stroked the back of my neck, the place that either turned me on or made me totally sleepy. That night it was a combination of both. “You know you missed the Justin love,” he said cockily.

Justin love was his name for ... just about everything he did that involved touching me. And even though I always rolled my eyes and scoffed at it, I was way into my Justin love and I really did miss it. I’d never tell him that but he knew anyway, just like I knew he’d been wanting to hold me all night, too.

“Just like you missed the Tara love,” I responded, and he growled at me, making my insides turn to mush. I loved when he did that and he knew it. I was beginning to see that he was pulling out his bag o’ tricks to try to get me to sleep with him in his room and it just wasn’t happening, no matter how much I missed the Justin love. And man, I was already missing having his body against mine. He’d become my own personal pillow and I wasn’t even sure I could go to sleep without him anymore. I sighed, already feeling lonely.

“You know I miss you no matter what,” his hand slid down my back and pulled me closer. “I still don’t get why we have to do this, T ... just get in your pajama’s and come in with me, okay? Or I’ll come in there so if my mom sees she’ll think it was all my idea. And we can even stay dressed, I’ll sleep in boxers or something. Please, baby?”

You‘ve got to be wondering what the hell was wrong with me, and sometimes I wonder the same thing. Holding out on him was the hardest thing I’ve ever done, ever, but I would rather suffer for a few days than have Lynn and Paul overhear Justin and I having hot monkey sex, because no matter what either of us said, if we got into the same bed we were gonna have some kind of sex. It didn’t matter how much we said we’d just hold each other or how many layers of clothing we put on or whatever time of the month it was, even if we fell asleep without doing something one of us would start touching in our sleep and the ball would get rolling.

Trust me, I know it would happen. We tried that pajama thing many, many times and somehow I ended up getting it on anyway.

So I stayed strong even though I hated every second of it.

Raising my head, I kissed him softly. “Sweetie, don’t start, okay? Because we both know we’d end up doing it, and I just ... I can’t do it with your mom in the house. I know she’s fine with it and everything but I’d be so tense and scared we’re making too much noise that it would suck ... and besides, I’m having cramps anyway. So let’s not drag it out or else we’ll end up falling asleep on each other right here.”

He snorted.

“What?”

“There goes my second plan,” he said ruefully and I laughed, then kissed him again. Their family room was really comfortable, with the lights dim and the couch big and cozy. Spending the night in there wouldn’t be difficult at all ... which explains why I immediately got up from Justin’s lap, only to be pulled right back down.

“J ...” He made things so damn hard!

“T ...” He whined back pitifully, and for once I didn’t think he was being dramatic. We’d been joined at the hip for way too long -- I dreaded climbing underneath the sheets without him. But I had to.

Turning, I went to kiss him one more time. It was intended to be a peck, you know, one of those sweet kisses without too much contact? But he wasn’t having any of that -- his tongue slipped between my lips, coaxing mine out to play and pretty soon we were entwined on the sofa, him resting between my legs and our bodies pressed together.

I swear, I knew this would happen.

Pulling my lips away, I managed to pant out, “You’re only making this harder than it already is, Justin!”

He closed his eyes and sighed again. “I just don’t want you to go ... Tara, I swear, my mom actually told me, she came up to me and said that she thought you were gonna stay in my room. She won’t care, baby! You’re not gonna be able to sleep without me, you know. Remember, in Florida?”

When we were in Florida and he was working on music with JC, sometimes he’d be out really, really late, like, almost until dawn a few times. Most of the time he’d come and get me so I could hang out with them -- hanging out consisted of me dozing on the studio couch while they worked -- because I tossed and turned and didn’t get any rest until he got home anyway. So he was probably right that I’d be laying there awake but I just felt really strongly about not disrespecting his parents. Call me silly but it’s how I was raised. Maybe on the next visit it wouldn’t be a huge deal but sleeping with him on the first visit didn’t seem appropriate.

Don’t you hate when you have morals? Usually I don’t have any but parents are my weakness and because I loved Justin so much, I wanted his parents to like me, too. Maybe me sharing a bed with him that night wouldn’t have mattered to them but I wasn’t sure so ... I had to do what I had to do.

Somehow I managed to slide from underneath him and actually stand this time, despite his efforts to pull me back. “I know, I know .... I’m hating this as much as you are ... but it’s just the right way to behave. So ... can you walk me to my room?” I held out a hand and waited while he pouted, sighed, cursed, and then finally got up and took my hand. We turned out the lights and he turned on his own security alarm and we walked upstairs slowly. I mean, we acted like we were walking down the aisle, taking one step, pausing, then another, and so on.

We’re so ridiculous.

After a walk that should’ve taken one minute, maximum, but ended up being more like ten, we got to my room. “‘Night,” I said miserably, wondering why I was putting us through this hell. Sometimes I doubt my own sanity.

“Sleep tight, baby,” he puckered up and we kissed quickly , no long smooches this times -- both of us knew it would only lead to more making out and then arguing. “I’ll come and get you in the morning.” Before we got there we’d already arranged for him to wake me up at the right time for breakfast or whatever. Otherwise I would sleep until noon, completely oblivious to everything and everyone.

“Okay. Love you,” I hugged him, kissing his neck. God, I was going to miss that neck. “I can’t believe this! We’re acting like you’re going overseas!” With the drama skills I was rapidly developing, I should’ve seriously considered acting. My God, we probably weren’t even going to be apart for eight hours!

He chuckled, squeezing my ass. “I know ... we’re both losers, aren’t we?” My favorite word.

“You admit it!” I teased. “I’ll never forget this moment .... you finally agreed with me that you’re a loser ... I’m gonna buy some L’s to embroider on all of your shirts, I think.” It really wasn’t that funny but I think we were trying to distract ourselves.

But enough was enough. It was time to go.

“Okay ... see you in the morning,” he let go of me and stepped back, giving me that morose look from underneath his eyelashes. Yeah, I was sad too but that look was so over the top that it gave me the incentive I needed.

“‘Bye, sweetie,” I opened the door and went inside, snickering at his last ditch attempt to make me feel guilty. He couldn’t make me feel any worse than I already did. My headache was coming back -- not a horrible one, but a slight one -- and my cramps were in full force. I got ready for bed, brushing my teeth and washing my face before popping two Advil and getting into bed.

I was sure I’d be awake for hours without him to hug on, but to my surprise I was out like a light in the comfortable bed. Maybe I dropped off so quickly because my fears were gone and I could at last relax, I don’t know, but I fell into a deep sleep for several hours.

I probably would’ve slept throughout the night, but at some point I heard a weird noise and became half-awake, sure that one of those damn dogs was trying to get inside to maul me. Before I could even sit up or fully open my eyes, Justin, clad in a T-shirt and boxers, slipped underneath the sheets and pulled me to him, curving his body around me.

In that hazy place between being asleep and awake, I mumbled, “Justin ... go ....”

But he shushed me, kissing me on the cheek. “Shhh .... I know you don’t want me in here, but too bad ... I can’t sleep in another bed when you’re in the same house,” he whispered in my ear. His arms felt so good, so right, that I wasn’t even going to protest anymore. But even if I had tried to stop him, his next words shut me up.

“I can’t sleep without you in my arms anymore ... so like you always say, deal with it. You’re my baby, we belong in the same bed and I’m staying. Now go to sleep.”

Sometimes, no matter how old or independent you are, you can’t argue with your man, you know?

So I didn’t. Once again, Justin disregarded my stance and once again, I didn’t care.

I was his baby and we belonged together. Who the hell would argue with that?

I went back into the best sleep ever.

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