Title: Snapshots: Anthology of a Life Well Lived

Author: Kimberly21570

Fandoms: Guiding Light / All My Children

Pairings: Olivia and Natalia / Lena and Bianca

Disclaimers and Other Assorted Ramblings: The characters of Olivia and Emma Spencer, and Natalia Rivera are owned by CBS/TeleNext and Proctor & Gamble. The characters of Lena and Pauline Kundera, Bianca Montgomery, Zach and Kendall Hart Slater, Maggie Stone, Erica and Mona Kane, Opal Cortlandt, AJ, JR, and Babe Chandler, Krystal Carey, Marissa Tasker, and Myrtle Fargate, are owned by All My Children, ABC/Disney and Prospect Park. The characters of Jordan and Alexandria "Lexie" Montgomery-Kundera, Francesca "Cheska" Stone, and Amelia Slater are the property of this author, and any resemblance to fictional characters, or real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

No copyright infringement intended with regard to Guiding Light, CBS/TeleNext, Proctor & Gamble, All My Children, ABC/Disney, Prospect Park, or any other entity. The settings, dialogue, and story content in these scenes are original, with the exception of a small bit of dialogue taken from the 4.29.2013 episode of AMC. Written for fun, not profit. All other standard disclaimers apply.

Thank you, as always, to my pal, MoniRod for the edit. You are awesome, and I appreciate you more than you know.

Rating: Chapter 2 is rated PG-13, perhaps flirting with R, for sexual situations and some strong language, though this story will eventually reach NC-17.

Synopsis: It's a stroll down memory lane for Olivia and Natalia, Lena and Bianca, and their friends and family, as two of our favorite couples' daughters prepare to enter into wedded bliss, in a double wedding… of sorts…

Snapshots: Anthology of a Life Well Lived

Copyright September 2012

"The whispers in the morning of lover's sleeping tight, are rolling by like thunder now, as I look in your eyes. I hold on to your body, and feel each move you make. Your voice is warm and tender, a love that I could not forsake."

— Jennifer Rush, The Power of Love

Chapter 2—Morning Delight:

The Cottage, Martha's Vineyard—Saturday, April 21, 2029, 6:30 a.m. Eastern Daylight Time

The morning of her bridal shower, Jordan Montgomery-Kundera awoke feeling refreshed and filled with excitement. Though there was still a chill in the air on the Vineyard that time of year, the sun shone brightly through the huge bay window in her bedroom, and she could hear the sound of the waves, crashing against the shore. Releasing a contented sigh, she settled beneath the covers, reveling in the peaceful familiarity of it, as she contemplated the true meaning of this day. After a two-year engagement, preceded by a two-year courtship, and countless years of longing, today represented another step toward her ultimate dream—marrying the love of her life. Oh, yes, this was going to be a glorious day!

Having made that private declaration, her attention turned to the unique resonance of morning inside the cottage—footsteps creaking in the hallway, the rhythmic perking of the coffeemaker, and the clanking of dishes and mugs in the kitchen. The screeching of her teenaged sisters, as they bickered over whose clothing was whose, before the stomping of sock-clad feet spoke of a mad dash toward an authority figure for validation, only to hear their Mama's voice telling them to work it out themselves. The inevitable grumbling soon followed, as disappointed feet shuffled back toward the far bedroom. And then, of course, more bickering. She chuckled softly to herself. Would they ever learn? She figured not.

Drowning them out, she listened contentedly to the sound of other familiar voices, emanating from the kitchen. Dimples formed as she smiled, thinking of the endless love and support her family provided for her. They were always there. For everything. Riding competitions. Polo tournaments. Basketball and soccer games. Softball tournaments. Even the season she fancied herself a football player. Though her Mama had a really hard time dealing with that one. "Too dangerous," Lena had argued. But in the end, she had agreed anyway. She could never deny Jordan anything. That's how she had gotten the riding lessons, as well. And then there were birthdays, and graduations, and every conceivable other celebration they could conjure up—her family was there for all of them. As they were now—or would be, very soon.

Aunt Kendall and her cousin Amelia were already there that morning, as were her Aunt Maggie, her mom's best friend since high school, and Aunt Olivia, who was her Mama's best friend and business partner. Aunt Maggie's daughter Cheska was there, as well. They had grown up together, and were closer than cousins, despite the lack of any real familial ties.

And she heard Aunt Natalia's voice too. The petite Latina spitfire was fussing at her wife, Olivia, about overexerting herself, trying to move a table. True to character, Auntie O responded with a witty comment, and then Jordan heard the table legs scrape across the floor, accompanied by more fiery chatter from Auntie Talia. Olivia had promptly ignored her wife's censure, and done as she damned well pleased. Those two never changed. Jordan couldn't have loved them more if they were her own parents.

And they had all come a day early to help set up for the party. Her bridal shower. The shower to celebrate her impending marriage to the one person in the world she couldn't imagine living without. Could a girl possibly feel more blessed? Jordan thought not.

Her thoughts turned then to those who were yet to arrive—and those who would be missed. Babcia Paulina, Grandma Erica, and Erica's best friend Opal Cortlandt were set to arrive on the Enchantment jet, mid-morning. Given their advanced ages, she was beyond thankful that they were all well enough to make the trip, and she couldn't wait to see them. AJ's mother, Babe Chandler, his aunt, Marissa Tasker, and his grandmother, Krystal Carey would be arriving on the jet with them. That should prove to be interesting, she thought, given the antagonistic relationship her Grandma Erica had always had with Krystal.

She grinned at the thought, and turned her attention back to her grandmothers. They were so different, both as people and as grandparents. Grandma Erica was warm and loving, but not in the same way as Babcia Paulina. Babcia baked cookies and snuggled with her grandbabies in her lap. G-ma, as Jordan and her siblings called Erica, much to the Diva's chagrin, was supportive and encouraging, and she gave great hugs, but she didn't cuddle—she didn't sit still long enough for that—and she definitely didn't bake. Yet despite their core differences, they were so similar when it came to the love they had for her, for her family. She adored them both, and respected them immensely.

Jordan's thoughts turned then to her Grandma Erica's decades-long friendship with the eclectic Opal Cortlandt. It had always amused and intrigued her. Much like G-ma and Babcia, G-ma and Opal couldn't have been more different. Opal was wacky and entertaining with her premonitions and oddball commentary, while G-ma was often self-absorbed, and always so high-strung. But they were both solid when it came to their loyalty toward the ones they loved, and they were always there for one another—just like Jordan's best friends had always been there for her. She treasured that about her life, just as she treasured the memories of those who were no longer with them.

Sadly, Miss Myrtle had passed away when Jordan was just a little girl. But despite Jordan's young age when Miss Myrtle passed, the old carnie had made a lasting impression on her, and the beloved woman's presence would be deeply missed during this special time in her life. She was grateful that her mothers, and grandmothers, and her dad, Zach Slater, had kept both Miss Myrtle and Jordan's great grandmother, Mona Kane, alive for her—for them all, and Jordan knew the beloved women would be there with them in spirit.

Jordan's ruminations shifted then, back to those who were living. Her suitemates from Smith would be arriving soon as well, and they had the entire weekend—a long one, in fact—to catch up on one another's lives. Much to her surprise and delight, they all planned to stay through Monday, so they could celebrate her birthday with her on Sunday. They hadn't celebrated anyone's birthday together since their graduation nearly three years prior. Well, Jordan hadn't celebrated with Taylor and Miah anyway. Ashton was another story. To Jordan's delight, Ashton had been there, always. Since the moment they met at Smith nearly seven years prior. Jordan could not possibly have felt more blessed than she did when she thought about Ashton.

And then there was Emma. Her sweet, beautiful… infuriating, Emma. Jordan felt her heart swell, and she laughed to herself as she thought about her. God, she was so much like her mother sometimes! And other times, so much like her Ma. She wondered how a person could be such a contradiction in terms, and not be completely crazy. But Emma was one of the most stable people Jordan knew, despite the challenges she had faced along her life's journey.

Jordan smiled to herself. Emma would be there for her shower too, of course. Already was, actually. And she couldn't wait to experience this day with her.

Like Ashton and Cheska, Emma had always been there. From the time they were children. Though there were years they didn't see one another at all, Jordan couldn't remember a summer, a triumph, a celebration or a tear, or even a single moment that Emma hadn't somehow shared with her, even if only through a quick call, an e-mail, or a text, or a long visit on Skype. Thank God for unlimited everything mobile plans!

Lazily, Jordan stretched beneath the covers, meticulously working out the kinks from a night of restful sleep, preceded by hours of the best lovemaking she'd ever experienced. And then she smiled at the memories as she rolled toward her lover, who was sleeping soundly beside her.

Slowly, dark eyes traced the contours of a face she had long ago come to love—of a body she had longed to touch for far longer than she had realized. My God, she thought, as she gazed at the one her heart loved so completely, how did I ever get so lucky?

The depth of love, of desire she felt, had come upon her, completely unawares. It had surprised her, albeit pleasantly so, and she had embraced it within herself wholeheartedly from the first moment of awareness.

A hushed moan fell from perfect lips, and then that toned body began to stir alongside her. That subtle movement caused the sheet to slip, exposing a tantalizing expanse of flawlessly tanned skin. The ripple of muscles, even in sleep, stirred something deep inside Jordan's body, as well. It was instinctive, that primal response to the sight of her lover's naked flesh, and in the flash of a mere moment, she felt that need begin to rise and swell.

Reaching out, she slid the tip of her finger down the slope of a strong Roman nose, and then playfully tapped her lover's lower lip.

A smile, and a deep, but quiet giggle, formed in response, and then Jordan leaned down, pressing a kiss where her finger had recently departed. "Morning, micorazón," she whispered against firm, yet pliable lips.

The familiar Spanish endearment rolled off of Jordan's tongue as smoothly as silk, causing a visceral reaction in the recesses of her lover's body. And just that quickly, the primal nectar began to flow. "Mm… morning, Beautiful," came the low, sultry reply, as muscular arms pulled her impossibly closer.

That familiar early-morning register drew another response from the alcoves of Jordan's body. She grew instantly hard, ready, and a low groan tore from her lungs, as she found herself being pulled into an even deeper kiss. A searching tongue met her own, and insistent fingers raked through her mess of dark curls, holding her firmly in their kiss, as bodies melded together in their bed.

"Last night was incredible," she murmured into their kiss.

A light nibble on her bottom lip marked her lover's response. "You were incredible," a soft voice whispered, emphasizing the party most responsible for the intensity of their lovemaking.

"My God, I've missed you so much," Jordan hissed.

"Mm… I've missed you too," her lover confessed, as tongues continued to explore.

After months of nearly constant separation caused by school and work commitments, they had been grateful to steal a night alone, before a weekend filled with family, friends, and celebration. Not that they were completely alone—the cottage, as usual, was filled to overflowing. But their family had been more than understanding of their need for time alone after dinner last evening. They stole away for a long walk on the moonlit beach, talking and laughing, just enjoying one another's company. And then they came back to the cottage, to their room, where they made love until sleep finally claimed them.

A husky laugh fell from Jordan's lips. "I could tell…"

"Oh, ya could, could ya?" the teasing voice said in response.

"Uh-huh," Jordan replied flirtatiously, as her fingers set to work beneath the covers. "Just like I can tell right now."

A low groan accompanied the reclaiming of her lips. "It never takes long with you," her lover murmured against her mouth.

Jordan smirked into their kiss. "Remember the first time you got all hot 'n…"

A deep flush colored that flawlessly tanned complexion. "Don't even finish that sentence," Jordan's lover said, in a tone that brooked no dispute.

Laughing heartily, Jordan kissed those lips again. "What's the matter? Not up for another stroll down memory lane?"

A shake of the head sent a messy blondish mane into motion. "Not necessarily. No."

"Why not?" Jordan pressed. "It was funny."

"Maybe to you," her lover countered wryly.

Nipping at an ear, Jordan whispered, "It's one of my first memories, you know… of feeling turned on by you."

"Yeah, well, it wasn't exactly a first for me with you," her lover sheepishly confessed.

"Really?" Jordan sounded surprised… and curious.

"Are you kidding me?" Adoring eyes swept across Jordan's chiseled features, and then fingertips drew their lips together briefly, before a trail of kisses made its way toward Jordan's ear. "You have to know you were driving me crazy, every time I looked at you."

Jordan shrugged. "I didn't then," she said. "But I do now."

A soft smile hijacked kissable lips. "Now that we're clear about that, can we change the subject? I'd rather focus on our future."

"Mm… our future," Jordan mused aloud. "That sounds nice."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," Jordan giggled. "It's my favorite topic."

"I thought sex was your favorite topic," her lover suggestively intoned.

Jordan laughed and draped her arms around her lover's neck. "How 'bout we combine them, and talk about all the fabulous sex we're gonna have in our future."

Kiss-swollen lips adopted a seductive grin. "How 'bout we forget the talking, and have some of that fabulous sex right now."

"Darlin', you read my mind," Jordan purred, as she playfully nipped at that bottom lip. And then their mouths met, in another deep, sultry kiss, and they were lost to one another again.

Neither of them knew how long they lingered there together, eager hands caressing in all the right spots, fingertips exploring familiar terrain, as bodies rolled and tongues tangled. They only knew that they were interrupted by the sound of Alexandria's voice.

"Jesus Fuckin' Christ!" Lexie screeched. "Can't you two give it a rest!" It wasn't a question. The walls weren't exactly soundproof, and she knew that they had been at it half the night. Thank God it was her bedroom on the other side of the wall, and not the younger kids'. Poor kids would be scarred for life! Between the two of them, and their parents who still went at it like rabbits, Lexie wasn't exactly certain she wouldn't be scarred, herself.

"Don't you know how to knock?" Jordan asked dryly, as she attempted to catch her breath. Her chest heaved, and her lover's eyes twinkled with mischief at the sight of those luscious nipples just waiting to be ravaged.

The question was rhetorical, and Lexie responded in kind. "Don't you know how to lock a door?"

"It's my room," Jordan stated simply, emphasizing ownership.

"Well, if you can't keep your door locked, for God's sake, at least put some fucking clothes on!"

Oh, my God, you two are such sisters, Jordan's partner mused, chuckling against her bare breast. Lightly, a tongue teased the underside of a taut nipple, drawing a soft moan, and then a pointed look.

"Stop that!" Jordan muttered under her breath, as she grinned down at her lover, from her position straddling toned thighs.

A roguish grin appeared in response to the lighthearted censure. "That's not what you said last night," the husky voice insinuated, as a firm body rolled her onto her side, a toned thigh slipping between her legs.

"And that's not what I'll be saying thirty seconds from now," Jordan responded. And then a low groan slipped from her lungs, unbidden, as a practiced finger slid through her wetness, teasing in just the right spot. Dark eyes widened. She couldn't believe that had just happened. Not that she minded in the least but, she had to put on a good show for her sister. "But for the moment, stop that!"

That wayward tongue and an insistent finger teased again, in a united display of defiance.

And then Jordan was laughing, as she struggled to slide out from beneath the weight of her lover's body, and hoist herself up in bed. She didn't bother to cover herself as she peered over her lover's shoulder, making eye contact with her younger sister. "Mama's gonna kick your ass if she hears you talking like that."

"Whatever," Lexie said dismissively. "Just… put some fuckin' clothes on. I'm an impressionable young girl, you know."

Jordan laughed heartily. "Impressionable, my ass." True to the nature of their relationship, which had always been one of openness and honesty, she didn't hesitate to call her younger sister out on her crap. Alexandria had turned twenty-one just days prior, and she was still as strong-willed and irreverent as she was the day she was conceived. "You had sex long before I did." She groaned at the fact that it was true, and dutifully pinched her obstinate lover.

"Hey!" Her partner yelped, jumping in response.

"Serves you right," Jordan censured, her tone, dry. The recipient of the pinch didn't need to ask why. It had been a point of contention between them for quite some time.

Lexie snorted. She didn't bother to deny her sister's accusation. "Put some clothes on anyway."

"We'll put clothes on when we visit your room," Jordan said. "This one is ours." She emphasized ownership of the space once again. "We'll be as naked as we please."

"All right," Lexie sighed resignedly. Her tone held a touch of censure, mixed with a warning. "But if any of the kids wander in here and find you two like this, it's your ass Mom'll be kicking. Not mine." She emphasized ownership of the ass that would be kicked.

Jordan grinned at her partner, and received a groan of approval for what her hand was doing beneath the sheets. "I'll take my chances," she murmured, as she leveled a sultry gaze into the gorgeous eyes that gazed back into her own. "Now get out, would ya," she said to her sister. It wasn't a request, as she effortlessly hefted a pillow toward her sister. "And lock the door as you go. We have unfinished business to attend to."

Grinning, Lexie used the door to shield herself from the projectile that had been launched toward her. Reaching around, she engaged the lock.

Dark green flecks sparkled in bluish eyes. "I love it when you get bossy," Jordan's partner declared, as perfect teeth nibbled at her ear.

Reaching between her lover's legs, Jordan stroked and squeezed with just the right pressure to elicit the response she desired. "Then you're gonna love what I have planned for you this morning," she husked. "Now, c'mere…"

A roguish grin spread across kiss-swollen lips, eyes never parting from Jordan's gaze. "Tell your Mom not to hold breakfast for us, Lex," the younger girl's soon-to-be in-law said to her. "Apparently, your sister has big plans for me."

Lexie groaned, and Jordan laughed as she pulled her lover fully atop her own body. And then mouths were fused again, bodies tangling.

Shaking her head, Lexie sighed. "It's a fucking wonder I'm not in therapy," she muttered, as she pulled the locked door closed behind her. But she couldn't help the grin that teased as her lips, as she heard the delighted squeal, followed by the quiet laughter that emanated from her sister's bedroom. Good for her, Lexie thought. Jordan, more than anyone she knew, deserved the kind of happiness she was experiencing. Lexie hoped it would last a lifetime. Just like their parents.


AJ's Room, The Chandler Mansion—Monday, April 29, 2019, 6:00 a.m. Eastern Daylight Time

Jordan gingerly pushed open the door to her best friend AJ's bedroom, hoping to catch him still asleep. A typical, phlegmatic teenaged boy, he didn't usually roll out of bed until five minutes after they needed to leave for school. And she just so happened to be a half hour early this morning, so she figured her chances were fairly good. She hadn't been disappointed.

Stealthily, she crept inside, closing the door with a purposely subdued "click" behind her. And then, prowling like a panther on the hunt, she moved across the floor toward his bed, in complete silence. Though, she could barely restrain the laugh that threatened to burst from her chest.

Crouching down beside his bed, her dark eyes fell upon familiar features, illuminated by the soft light of early morning as it trickled through the disheveled slats in his blinds. She shook her head at the way they always hung so haphazardly—even after his maid just cleaned his room. The fact that he even had a personal maid was ridiculous to her, but that's the way the Chandler's lived—an entire staff of servants at their beck and call, at all hours of the day and night.

Despite the fact that her family was wealthier than the Chandlers could ever hope to be, in Jordan's house, her mothers cooked their meals, did their laundry, and cleaned the house. Well, except for their bedrooms—she and her sisters were responsible for keeping those clean. It was the same at her Aunt Kendall's house, and Jordan preferred it that way. Unlike the Chandler mansion, her house and Aunt Kendall's place felt like real families lived there. The mansion felt more like a museum than a home. Except for AJ's room. His room had always been alive with color and character. And his own unique brand of mess. Like the disheveled blinds. She swore he purposely messed with them the moment the maid left the room. She smiled at the thought. That was such an AJ thing to do.

Meticulously, she studied him—the curve of his lips, the prominent slope of his nose, the angular shape of his jaw, the way his shaggy, streaky blond hair fell across his face. At fifteen, the natural highlights in his hair were a few shades darker than they had once been, but he still looked as cute and innocent as he did at the age of five, when they had their first sleepover—in his life-sized Nascar bed. Thankfully, he had outgrown his obsession with high-speed hijinks, and was now on to fixating over being a rock star.

But the innocence aside, there was something else there now, as well—an edge that lurked, just beneath the surface. At times, it frightened her. Just a little. At others, it drew her to him; seizing that innate need within her to protect and comfort him. After all, he had often been her protector when they were children—fending off the bullies that teased her for having two moms. He decked a kid in kindergarten, earning a high-five from his dad, JR, and a lecture about doing the wrong thing for the right reasons from mother. And when he absolutely pummeled another kid in the third grade, he earned a week in detention for his efforts. His dad took him out for ice cream. His mother took him to church. The third time, in the seventh grade, he earned a fistful of broken knuckles and a ten day suspension. His dad bought him a set of boxing gloves. His mother took him for a visit with Grandma Krystal. If that didn't straighten him out, she had reasoned, nothing would!

But even bloodied and broken, he never stopped fighting for her honor. He was always there in her moments of weakness, a shelter against the tides that threatened to sweep away her security. AJ Chandler, despite his nefarious lineage, was a modern-day knight in shining armor, and Jordan couldn't have loved him more.

Neither could she have loved tormenting him more…

A mischievous grin tickled at the corners of her mouth, as she readied herself for the strike. Carefully, she traced the outline of his body beneath the covers, acquainting herself with where his arms and legs were located, to ensure that she could easily ensnare them. And then quietly, she climbed atop the desk chair that sat abandoned beside his bed. Once she was in prime position, she lunged forward, shoving off from the chair. The force of her body sent the chair careening backwards, where it slammed into his desk, at the precise moment that she pounced on him with every ounce of strength in her ninety-eight pound body.

Ripped from the depths of a dream, he shrieked in terror the moment she landed on him. And then he tussled with her through the heavy layer of covers, as if wrestling a bear, in the fight of his life. He was bigger than her, by at least fifty pounds, but she had the advantage because he had been sleeping partially on his side, but mostly on his stomach, and she had landed firmly on his back. Adding insult to injury, she was a fairly even match for him, muscle-wise, and she had little trouble restraining him. Still, he fought on.

Until she started to laugh…

That delightfully husky, unmistakable laugh. And then all the fight drained from his adrenaline-infused muscles, and he slowly pulled the blanket from over his head. He stared at her, disbelief in his eyes, as he struggled for breath. "Jesus, Jordan!" he exclaimed when his breathing recovered enough that he could form words. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Just givin' ya a friendly little morning wake-up call, Ace," Jordan grinned. She was perched in the center of his bed, like she owned it.

"Yeah? Well, I'd prefer a phone call to a sneak attack," he grumbled. "You scared the shit outta me!"

"Better not let your Mama hear you talkin' like that," Jordan censured. "She'll drag you back for another week at Grandma Krystal's," she laughed.

"Fuck my life," AJ sighed dramatically. He had nearly lost his mind after a week of listening to her chatter about her biscuits and cornbread, and those endless downhome homilies. And who the hell knew locally produced honey held so many medicinal qualities? Better yet, who the fuck cared?

He glanced at his alarm clock. "What are you doing here so early, anyway? I don't have to get up for another thirty minutes," he groused.

"Come on, Grumpy, we've gotta get going," Jordan said, playfully slapping him on the ass through the blanket. He yelped in protest, as she continued talking, "My mom said she needs to drop us off early this morning."

"Why?" He rubbed his eyes with the base of his hands, wiping the sleep away.

"I don't know," Jordan sighed. "Some lame meeting with my guidance counselor." She rolled her dark eyes for emphasis.

"Uh-oh," AJ said teasingly. He pushed himself upright in his bed, gathering the blankets close around him. "Shrink meets shrink. This could get ugly."

"Whatever," she said dismissively. "Get up. We're already late."

A noticeable blush crept across his face, and he averted her gaze. "I, uh… I can't," he mumbled.

"Why not?" The expression on Jordan's face matched the confusion in her tone.

"I, uh… I'm kinda… not wearing any pants," AJ confessed. His face reddened further, and he lowered his head, allowing his shaggy blondish mop to cover it.

Jordan burst into laughter. "Are you serious, Ace? Jeez, it's not like I've never seen it before. Remember, you and me, naked in the pool since we had floaties?"

"It's different now, and you know it," AJ muttered.

Grinning, Jordan leaned over the edge of the bed, retrieving a discarded ankle sock. "Here, put this on it," she laughed. "Should cover it just fine."

"You are so not funny," AJ said dryly.

Her dark eyes glinted with mischief, and before he could react, she reached out, yanking the blanket from him. His heart lurched in panic, and then quickly calmed, when he realized the sheet was still covering him. He grabbed it before she could yank that away too. And then she was laughing again—that deep, sultry laugh that belied her young age, as she lunged at him again, this time, toppling him over, nearly knocking him off the edge of the bed.

Instinctively, he fought back, effortlessly rolling her onto her back in the center of his bed. The advantage of having his hands free this time, proved to be her downfall, as he held her hands above her head with one hand, while tickling her mercilessly with the other. She screeched and begged, but he didn't relent, until they were both laughing—she, because he was driving her crazy with all the tickling, and he, because he couldn't help but laugh along with her. And then their breath was coming in short gasps, as burning lungs struggled to catch up.

Flecks of green flickered in smoky blue eyes, as AJ peered down at her. And her dark gaze was locked on his, never faltering. She felt the strangest fluttering deep in her belly, and her breath caught as she felt the rapid rise and fall of his chest against her own. She watched with bated breath then, as his head dipped down, lessening the distance between them. Her heart pounded in anticipation. Just before he eliminated the final space, Jordan moved beneath him, and their bodies shifted, bringing them into the sort of intimate contact neither of them were prepared for, or ready to experience.

Jordan gasped. She could feel the stiffness of him against her, as if they were wearing nothing. It startled her, and set her mind to reeling. She hadn't expected this. Not any of it. She had just wanted to have a little fun with him—make a memory that they would laugh about someday. And she'd made a memory all right. One she didn't think they would ever forget! Only they wouldn't be laughing about it. In a moment's time, she had gone from lighthearted and playful, to panicked and confused.

Immediately, he was backing away, apologizing. He was mortified! It was bad enough that it had happened—she didn't need to know about it! Truth was, anytime she was near—hell, anytime he even thought about her, he had to fight to keep it from happening. He couldn't help it. She was so beautiful. And she always smelled so good. And she was always touching him. Never in that way—just… light touches, loving ones, with unexpected hugs. It didn't help that it happened all the time when he slept, too. He didn't understand that at all! But it did. And now, she was looking at him, and the look in her eyes, the expression on her face… God, he just couldn't bear it. She looked as though some sort of animal had just accosted her—and that animal was him!

Quickly, he grabbed a pillow, because the sheet was no longer enough. And his apologies continued as he backed his way off of the bed, and into his bathroom.

Willfully shaking off the shock, Jordan finally found her voice again, and along with that, her ability to move. She was off the bed in a shot, following him to the bathroom door. "It's okay, Ace. You didn't do anything wrong. I just… I wasn't expecting that. I wasn't… expecting any of this. But I… I'm not sorry it happened…" She knew that it was true, and that confused her more than anything. She banged on his bathroom door. "Ace…?"

"Go away, Jordan," AJ called from inside. He sounded like a wounded child. "I need to take a shower."

"Just open the door and talk to me for a minute," she begged.

"I can't look at you right now, Jordan," he declared.

"It's not that big a deal, Ace," Jordan argued. It was a huge deal. "Come on… talk to me."

"Just… tell your mom I'm not feeling well, okay?" AJ replied. "I'll get a lift with my dad."

"You're really not gonna come out here?"

AJ's answer took the form of running water, as he turned the shower nozzles. He simply couldn't bear to face her. He wondered if he would ever find the courage again.

TBC in Chapter 3…