When I heard his footsteps on my porch, I threw the door open so hard it slammed into the wall and sent Ginger skittering for the basement. "Finally!" I shouted. "Now tell me what's happening before I completely lose my mind!"

He chuckled as I grabbed his hand and tried to yank him out the door. "I'll tell you!" he said, "I promise."

I stood still and waited expectantly.

"But you have to kiss me first."

"Oh my god you suck so bad," I groaned, but fell against his mouth anyway. He wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me close against his body and goddamn him he took his time, licking and teasing and biting before dragging his lips down my neck. "I like this dress," he murmured against the shell of my ear, making me shiver. "But I'd like it better on the floor."

"I hate you," I breathed as his lips found my neck, but I bent my head to the side, willing him to kiss downward while I gave in to the roller coaster sensation, that insane feeling of rising desire and then the lovely feeling of falling.

"First we need to celebrate," he said, producing a bottle of top shelf whiskey as if by magic.

"First you need to tell me what I'm celebrating!" I demanded as he tipped the bottle back. "Hey! Easy there slugger."

He leaned in and kissed me with whiskey sweet lips and I felt the delicious burn on my tongue. "A show. I told you." He grinned. "And you're looking at the headliner."

I squealed and leaped at him. He fell back, laughing, letting me back him up until he tumbled onto the floor. "I'm gonna get to hear you play live?" I breathed as I straddled him, bunching his shirt up in my fists and leaning down to press my forehead to his.

"You are. I'm playing the Crown Tavern."

"Oh my god." A twinge of something shivered through my body.

But he was too wrapped up in his pride to notice. "Tickets are sold out."

"There are tickets?" I bleated. The panic solidified somewhere around my belly button. I hadn't allowed myself to think about how he wasn't staying here in Crown Creek for long. We hadn't even talked about it, both of us gingerly dancing around the topic of how long he was staying here in favor of happier thoughts.

Like the one Jonah was having now. "And the best part is I'm playing Gid's songs."

I froze, squeezing his shirt in my hands. "Jonah."

His eyes darkened. "Thank you for giving me that box, Ruby." He took a deep hitching breath and leaned up to take another swig from his bottle. "I listened to every single tape. Gid and I, well I'm calling this a collaboration. A tribute."

I was speechless. I looked back and forth between his hazel eyes, feeling like I was seeing him for the first time. "You're amazing," I finally said.

His smile was so broad it looked like it should crack his face open. "Hey," he said, leaning up to kiss me again. "That's my line."

I threw myself at him, kissing him as hard as I could, trying to put everything I was feeling, all my support, all my gratitude, into it. He kissed me back just as hard and it suddenly became a tug-of-war, pushing and pulling. I tugged at his shirt, pawing at the buttons until I had his bare chest under my hands. He grabbed my ass, squeezing through my dress and pulling me flush against him so I could feel how hard he was for me already.

"Yes," I gasped. "Hurry."

He slipped his hands under my skirt, thick strong fingers delving into my thighs, spreading them wider. I hissed as his fingernail brushed against my panties, that whisper of sensation against my already sensitive parts making me squirm. His eyes darkened and he roughly shoved my panties to the side and let his finger slip across my already swollen clit. "So wet already," he murmured, as if to himself. "Fuck, Ruby."

"Hurry," I begged, squirming. He tilted his head to watch my face as he slipped his finger inside of me. I squeezed my eyes shut, feeling my muscles already fluttering around him, quivering at the edge of release. "Ah ah," he admonished. "Open you eyes, I want you to look right in my eyes as I make you come."

"Oh god," I breathed, but did what he said, keeping my eyes fixed on him, watching him as he watched me, the tense tic of the muscle by his temple, the way his eyes darted across my face, as his fingers began to move.

He wasn't interested in torturing me this time, thank god. He wanted to see me lose control for him, and that's exactly what I did. With his thumb pressed firmly against my clit, rubbing in tight, precise circles, he slipped one and then two fingers in and out of my swollen, wet pussy. I groaned as the thick, heavy sensation gathered in my core. The pressure built and built until I could barely handle it anymore. And just when I thought my mind was going to snap, he tore his eyes from mine and fastened his lips to my neck, and that last bit of sensation was exactly what I needed to push me over the brink.

I arched back, bucking my hips wildly as the orgasm tore through me, and I had barely come down before he pulled his fingers away to fumble at his zipper.

The sound of his belt buckle brought forth an almost Pavlovian response from me. Instantly my hands were at his zipper, lifting his cock free and guiding it to my entrance. "Ruby," he groaned as he slipped inside. "My god, your pussy is amazing."

"You've mentioned how amazing I am," I said as I slowly eased myself down onto him. He was so big there was always that initial burn, but it soon gave way to the most incredible fullness. "I guess it makes sense."

He grinned up at me, then sank his fingers into the dip at the top of my hips. "Come on, amazing girl, let me see you ride me."

"Watch me," I instructed, pressing my forehead to his. He growled, and began to move his hips, rising up off the floor to meet me every time I slid down. The sound of our slapping skin made its own kind of music, driving me faster, and faster. "Ruby," Jonah groaned and his chest hitched, breathing faster and faster. "Fuck, Ruby, fuck..."

"Jonah!" I cried as the pressure broke a second time. I fell forward and he squeezed me against his chestA at the very last second he pulled himself free and spent himself against my thigh as he groaned out a shattering sound.

We both lay there, just breathing for a moment and I wondered how I could give this up if he left. But he needed to go, his life was outside of here and it was starting up again way too soon. I struggled to get my breath. "Are you late for the show now?" I finally asked.

He sighed. "We should definitely boogie." But instead of getting up, he reached for that bottle again.

I slid off and looked at him as he set it back down again. He seemed as raw as I felt. "Are you okay?"

"Um," he glanced at his softening cock. "I'm pretty great, yeah. Sorry about the mess."

"Hold still," I told him as I got up and padded to the kitchen for paper towels. I dabbed at my thigh, and then came in to offer him a clean-up aid, only to find him taking another drink. "Jonah," I said. Tell me how long you're staying here, I didn't say. Instead I brushed my hand down his arm. "Are you...nervous about playing?"

He fell back onto his back and closed his eyes, then blinked them back open again, refocusing like the ceiling surprised him. The deep breath he took seemed to contain much more than just the need to gather his thoughts.

"I've been playing songs in front of crowds since I was ten years old," he said.

I nodded because it seemed like he needed silence, and went over to sit by him. He tucked himself back into his jeans and then sat up and reached for the bottle but I gently pushed his hand away.

He looked at me, a sudden burst of anger in his eyes that died away as quickly as it flared up and he sighed and nodded. "The songs I play? The ones I write? They don't mean anything." He shook his head when he saw me try to protest. "I can pull a hit song out of my ass right now, you want to see it? Yeah, I've had a bit of writer's block, but usually I can write a song in ten fucking minutes and have it go to number one because I'm writing for my audience. I know what they want." He let out a huge exhale. "I've never written a song just for me."

This felt like something greater than just frustration. It was anguish I was seeing there in his face and in the set of his jaw. "What does that mean to you?" I ventured to ask, because it clearly meant something.

"That I've wasted my fucking life."

"Jonah."

"No it's true." He reached for the bottle again and this time I let him have the drink. "I've been so worried about making sure everyone was watching me but I never wondered what it was I was saying once I had their attention." He shook his head ruefully. "Just make sure the spotlight is on me, and what I'm doing there is totally irrelevant."

"Is that why you're trying to get drunk?" I asked pointedly.

He wrinkled his nose at me. "I'm trying to get drunk because this means something. For the first time I'm about to play, in front of the tiniest crowd I've ever played in front of, and the music I'm playing is fucking important. And Ruby, I don't know if I can do it."

"Are you worried you're going to screw it up?"

"I'm worried I'm not good enough. For the music." His voice caught. "For you."

"The spotlight isn't on you right now, is it?"

He turned and his eyes glittered bright and soft. "I mean, you're here, so yeah."

I squeezed his hand, smiling. "And you certainly have my full attention."

He nodded.

"Are you good enough right now?"

His eyes glittered harder.

I took a deep breath. "Sometimes the most important things you can do are in private. And I really think that the things you do and the thoughts you think when you know no one is watching is what shows you who you really are." I tilted his chin up so he was looking at me when I told him, "You took those songs and you polished them until you made them sparkle like diamonds. You took Gid's hopes and dreams and made them a reality and no one was watching to tell you this was something you should be doing. You did it because you wanted to pay tribute to your uncle. I think that tells me everything I need to know about how good you are."

He looked young. A school kid. The Jonah I first met a million years ago, before he learned how to fake it and bluster his way through life. "I don't know, Ruby."

I stood up and reached for him. I didn't know why I was encouraging him, when I knew all too well that tonight was the first step towards him leaving. I had no idea why I was pushing him except that I loved him.

I loved him and he was going to leave me soon.

I swallowed. "Come on," I encouraged. "Do it for Gid."

That did it. He rose to his feet. He was looking at me abashed, and I felt myself swinging instinctually over into teacher-mode. "Let's go. Put your coat on, that's it. Hang on, I want to put some tights on it's freezing. Okay, let's get your phone right there, oh jeez mister, you let your battery get this low? Oh whoops. Okay, give me your keys, you're a little drunk"

"Drunk on you," he slurred, but followed me out onto my small porch.

The snow had started up again, a fluffy inch covering the driveway and more falling fast. His footprints were just vague hollows in the snow now and everything had that quiet, muffled hush. Like everything was holding its breath and waiting to hear Gid's songs. I looked up at the snow swirling down in spirals from the heavens. "Think Gid'll be listening tonight?" I wondered.