Chapter 45

Jon's eyes opened with a start. “Shit,” he whispered. He hadn’t meant to doze off, but the woman curled in his arms had been a welcome balm. He didn’t realize how much he’d needed just a little human contact, especially of the selective kind. This one wasn’t throwing herself at him with promises and demands. Hell he practically had to hold her down to get her stay in his company.

Easing away, he checked his watch. Damn, time to go. He hoped against hope that Richie and Teensy had finished up or he was going to be interrupting. Of course it wasn’t the first time for that, either.

He strode to the door, a backward glance at Kate. Her cheek was pressed into the pillow, exhaustion still evident beneath her eyes. Leaning on the doorjamb, he memorized the lines of her. “Don’t work too hard,” he whispered into the room, closing the door behind him.

He scanned the living room, relieved that two naked bodies weren’t on the couch.

Richie backed out Elena’s door, bumping into a body in the hallway. "Goddamn it!" he said with a fierce whisper. “Jesus, Jon!”

Jon swallowed a laugh. "Problem Bro?" His eyebrow quirked as he glanced down at his nearly naked guitarist. Hell, the water was still dripping down his chest. "Thanks for taking a shower. The guys will appreciate it.”

"Bite me.” At Jon’s bland look, he huffed. “I just need a bed, no worries for me sleeping that eight hour flight," he said. "Let me grab my,” he snagged his jeans out of the bathroom, “uh, clothes." When Jon just leaned against the wall, arms crossed with an oddly patient smile on his lips, he frowned. Fuck, when did I buy stock in the patience market? The day I met Kate that's when. He turned his gaze onto Richie as he Tugged on his jeans and flipped a T-shirt over his head. Jon just shook his head and wished somewhere deep inside for Kate to wake up as Richie found his boots somewhere underneath the couch and started pulling them; on.

"Well hurry up man, we still have to pack you know." Jon pushed away from the wall. He winced and considered all the wardrobe he'd have to settle into a few bags. Umpteen dozen fucking interviews and one show? He'd have to pack heavy. According to McGee it was just a no go to be photographed in the same clothes too often. Shit he hated packing, he hated to go. He just wanted to hang out here and see how much further he could get with the beautiful Doctor Kate.

Richie nodded. He glanced around the room and decided right then and there that the couch was going to be given a place of honor in the house they got together some day. "Ready,” he said, ushering Jon toward the door. He locked the door behind them. He missed her already, but at least now he knew there was something to come home to.

They both climbed into the car a little lighter, and a lot more relaxed.

Jon relaxed back into his seat as Richie revved into traffic. Richie driving like a maniac meant things were getting back to normal. "So, things are good again?"

"The only way they'd be better is if she was in the backseat," Richie said with a grin.

Jon laughed. “That’s what I like to hear.”

“And you and Doc?”

Jon rolled his shoulder, rubbing deep into the tissue of his upper arm, a slow smile simmering on his lips as his thoughts turned and tumbled on the various positive aspects of the lovely redhead. He wasn't going to illuminate yet though. Shit with Richie in the fine form he was at the moment, the pure massive amount of digs he'd suffer was not to be considered. “I couldn’t even begin to tell you.”

Richie grinned. “Must be buggin’ the hell out of you.”

Jon thumped his head against the head rest. “You have no idea.” He grinned internally. Richie really had no idea. He had plans, and they were circling avidly in his brain, plans of ways to bring the elusive doctor closer and all in ways she wouldn't expect. He still had that little slip of paper nestled securely in his wallet, not much to look at or even recognise the importance of, if you were anyone but Jon, but to him they were better than gold. In her own script no less, two very important numbers and he planned on using them to stay in contact. He'd reach out and touch her from thousands of miles away. She'd see he meant what he said, he was a fuckin' man of his word.

“I think I just might.”

Jon closed his eyes and snorted. Yeah Right Sambora, you have no fuckin' idea, just you wait and see.