They were like vultures. No, worse. Vultures left eventually. The media frenzy outside my house didn’t.

It was Tuesday, and they were driving me insane. My mom was so nice about the whole thing, understanding and supportive, and she didn’t once tell me that it might be better if I left, which was what I was considering doing at this point. Anything to get away from the people outside who wanted to make a living through invading my privacy.

I hadn’t been able to organize a bodyguard out here. It wasn’t that no one was available. I just didn’t trust anyone not to leak information to the press about something. The police had tried in vain to get the reporters to leave. In the end, they were camped in front of my house, and I was stuck inside.

All I had wanted was to spend a few weeks away from all this. I’d wanted to spend time with my mom, to relax and enjoy myself, to forget about the fame and the glory for a while. It looked like that wasn’t going to happen, no matter how badly I wanted it.

I would have to sit in my room, close my eyes, and try to mentally prepare for the next season the way I usually did: with camera flashes pushing against my windows like peeping Toms that wanted a piece of me. I couldn’t even go out for a walk without them swarming me, taking photos, asking questions, and writing down every little fact about me.

I wouldn’t be able to get closer to Carly, either. We had hit it off so well, getting along the way we used to as if no time had passed at all. I wanted to explore that with her, to find out who we were to each other, and who we’d become. I wanted to find out if there was a chance that anything could happen again.

But that wasn’t possible now. If I so much as looked in her direction with the press watching me, they would jump on her and drag her into this. The only way I was going to be able to see her was if she agreed to meet me at our spot.

Which I doubted was going to happen at all. Carly was reluctant about seeing me. She had been unsure from the start. It had taken convincing to walk with her and to get her to go out with me. Getting her in bed had been a breeze, though, but that was because we had fit together so perfectly that night. That was what I wanted to explore with her: how it was possible that something as perfect as what we could have still hung in the air between us, despite it being six years later.

Whether we would rekindle what we had remained a question, but the potential was there, and I wanted to know how I felt about it all, how I felt about her. I could only know that if I was with her.

I stood at the window and watched the reporters and the news vans, contemplating how I would get out of the house without them seeing me. I would have to give them the slip, as if I had something to hide. If I crept around back and jumped the wall into Marc Bergman’s garden and then went through the next road that way, I might be able to get out. I wasn’t sure if Marc would mind, but I was famous. Maybe I could bribe him with a signature if he caught me.

God, it was all so silly. Having to sneak around like I was a criminal, thinking about bribing my neighbors, it was absurd. Besides, Carly was probably not going to meet me, anyway. I was still holding out for a message from her, but it was starting to look unlikely.

“I’m going to take a shower,” I said to my mom and walked to the bathroom.

“Don’t use all the hot water,” she called after me.

I closed the door and turned on the hot spray, getting naked and stepping under it. I closed my eyes and let the water cascade over my body. I sat down on the tiled floor and let the water run over my shoulders and face as well. There was something soothing about sitting under hot water when everything was going to shit all around me.

When I got out of the shower, I toweled off and wrapped the towel around my waist. I found the jeans I’d worn and fished for my phone. The screen displayed a new text and I opened it.

I’ll be at our spot at ten.

My heart skipped a beat. Carly was coming to meet me, after all. I replied, telling her I would be there. Ten was a good time. The press outside wouldn’t be so alert. The people would be taking turns sleeping. Only a few eyes would be watching out for me.

When it was time to go, I was dressed and ready. My mom had already gone to her room. I opened the front door quietly and stepped out into the darkness. I considered getting into my car and driving out, living my life without caring about them. But someone saw me, and a flash went off. I groaned. More flashes and shouts followed, waking them all up. I shook my head and stepped into the house again, closing the door. Fucking paparazzi.

I took a deep breath and considered going through Marc’s garden, after all. I was suddenly angry. Why was I letting them control my life? I walked back to my room and grabbed a blanket. I headed out again, heading to my car. I drove out of my yard, ignoring the flashes and the people. I sped out of the neighborhood. My Audi was a hell of a lot faster than any of their vans would be. By the time they were mobilized, I would be long gone.

I drove to our spot. It was just outside of Laramie. A narrow dirt road was the only way in, and I took it, navigating the molehills with a car that wasn’t meant for this. The road wound up against a hill until it reached the top. I parked under one of the trees and got out. The spot overlooked the town, and the view was breathtaking. Laramie was beautiful at night, with lights blinking sleepily into the darkness. Being back here reminded me of all the times Carly and I had snuck out of our homes to meet each other here. It was our spot because it was secluded, and our parents would never find us here. It was where I’d slept with her the first time.

Another car pulled up, and Carly stepped out. My heart skipped a beat. I would always have that reaction when I saw her. She wore jeans and a hoodie, and her long hair fell over her shoulders like a waterfall. She walked toward me.

“You’re here,” I said.  A part of me had thought that she might still not come, that it was too much to hope for.

“I said I would be,” she said.

I nodded and pulled her against me into a hug. I didn’t want to push it too far, but I wanted to hold her against me. I wanted to touch her. When I was with Carly, I felt like the time would slip through my fingers too fast and I would lose her again.

“Come,” I said and walked to my car with her.

I retrieved the blanket and we spread it out on the ground. We sat down on it, the two cars on either side of us so that it created a barrier of privacy and the view of Laramie stretched out before us. It felt like we were wrapped in a bubble, transported back to a time when it had been the two of us and our future stretched out in front of us the way the view of the town was now.

We sat in silence for a while, and I enjoyed her being with me, the calm and the quiet that came with it. She sat close enough to me that I could feel the warmth radiating from her. I wanted to put my arm around her, but it was too much too soon. I felt like a teenager that didn’t know how to time my next move. I was a grown man with a career, but this woman still took away all rational thought.

“How did you get past the frenzy outside your house?” Carly asked after a while.

“I got into the car and drove out,” I said. “I sped so they couldn’t follow me.”

She chuckled. “Nice.”

I nodded. “If I let them rule my life, I will be their prisoner forever. I let them get away with too much this time.”

“Is this what your life is like?” she asked.

“Not exactly,” I said. “I mean, they’re everywhere and always watching me, but my home is pretty secure. I have a guard or two that help me out, and there are places I can go that don’t allow them. It’s a bit more controlled than out here.”

We sat in silence for a while again.

“You know I never want you to feel like I’m hiding you from the world,” I said. “But throwing you right in the middle of all this would have been horrible. What they’re doing outside now is nothing compared to how bad they can get when they think there’s a story to follow.”

“I’m starting to see that I know very little about what it means to be hounded by the press,” she said. “But I still wanted to be the one to make that decision.”

I couldn’t tell if she was upset or not. Her face was expressionless, her voice carefully controlled.

“I wanted to protect you from the side effects of being seen with a celebrity.”

She looked at me. “Don’t you think that’s for me to decide? I know who you are. Shouldn’t I be the one to decide if I want to be seen with you, if I want to deal with that?”

She was right, of course, but she had no idea what it could be like, and I told her as much.

“I’m not a child, Brad,” she said. “I’m so sick and tired of everyone trying to protect me instead of trusting that I can make my own choices.”

“This is not the same,” I said. She was comparing me to her dad, and that pissed me off.

“How?” she asked. She was getting upset, too. Her expressionless mask was finally beginning to crack.

“I’m just looking out for you, Carly,” I said. “I’m trying to protect you.”

She glared at me. “You’re about six years too late,” she said.

Her words hit me like punches. She was right, but that had been a long time ago. I was a different person now, and so was she. Although the way she glared at me now was exactly how she’d done it years ago when we’d gotten caught by her father.

I was flooded with memories and emotion. The atmosphere around us crackled with passion. Her lips were parted, and her breathing was fast and shallow. I was aware of her closeness. Her eyes were large, and her gaze darted down to my lips.

So, I grabbed her and kissed her.