- Text Size +


"No! Absolutely not!

Voices rose and fell from the living room of the Jonas household. I was coming down the hallway back to the kitchen and they were progressively getting clearer, Nick was talking to his father and whatever he was saying his father wasn't agreeing with him.

"Nicolas, you have enough on your plate right now, your album is coming out in a month, and you and your brothers have interviews and appearances for Disney you are required to do in the next few weeks. I know you mean well with Justice, but taking on the responsibilities of being her manager may be too much. I know she's your girlfriend, but that may not be the wisest decision."

"I started this I feel... responsible for her and I want to help her as much as I can."

Paul Kevin Sr. paused he seemed to be thinking something over. "I'll make you a deal Nick, you can act as her co-manager I'll do the rest, I only have Demi and you guys to worry about right now, I think I can probably take one more, besides Justice is going to need all the help she can get."

Nick nodded. He didn't say much for the rest of the evening; he had won his argument, for now.


My days seem to be falling into a routine. I went to the studio at Nick every day and we didn't get home until late afternoon. We took turns in the studio, usually at different times of day on different days. Sometimes I didn't see Nick at all because he was at the studio most of the morning. He was pulling his own project together at an alarming rate, and I was reminded he had recorded an album in a week straight

I was recording about a song a day and sometimes I would just spend time in the studio talking to John Fields as he manipulated instrumentals and the lead and backing vocals, I wanted to know how everything worked even if I wasn't directly involved.

I wasn't even done recording and I was already very busy. Mr. Jonas had orchestrated meetings between me and about six different people. There was my publicist, Tonya, but she didn't have much to do yet considering the ball wasn't even rolling yet and most of the tracks weren't even recorded.

My favorite day in the studio was when I recorded "Inside Your Skin". For once, Nick was there and not just to stand behind John Fields and watch the progress of my recording session over his shoulder, we made the decision For Nick and I to record together, since that was how we had originally conceived it. There was something about the song that needed him; as if he had grown into the essence of the song itself.

My dad was in the studio that day and putting my mother on speakerphone I sang the song for her as I recorded it.

"You're living your dream." My mother said, I could hear the pride in her voice and even though she hadn’t approved of my unorthodox approach to getting what I wanted she was happy for me.

"I love that song," I said smiling, "and other than "Only an Ocean Away" that is my baby."

"I know what it's like to have a special song," Nick said smiling, "you want to sing it all the time and you want to show people how proud you are of it, you want them to see how you feel."

I nodded. "Like you did when you wrote "Stay"." I said smiling.

Nick smiled from behind the microphone, "Exactly."


Finally on Sunday it was time to collapse. We had piled into two cars to go to church and other than the necessities hadn't said much. Joe and Frankie did most of the talking. I didn't see much of Kevin and Danielle until we got to church, they were conversing in hushed tones and when not holding hands they were surrounded by a gaggle of people admiring their two-month-old daughter.

I was relieved when we returned home (not that I missed going to church, but  I was so tired I wanted to spend time with Nick (mostly making out) and do nothing else, although I had the good graces to accept Kevin and Danielle's invitation to lunch at their house.

Their house was small for a house in LA, a modest two-bedroom house in a day lemon yellow with white shutters. A long driveway housed two cars, Kevin's Chevy Tahoe, which currently had a car seat in the back, and a silver two door they used when it was just the two of them.


The house was bright and cheery, comfortably seating eight people between the kitchen and the dining room. Danielle ran a hand through her hair as she sat down to nurse Madison. It was only a little before noon and she looked exhausted.

"You want me to make you a sandwich?" Kevin asked.

She nodded, "Sure, thanks Kev." She smiled.

So we had cold sandwiches for lunch, spread out between the kitchen and the dining room we talked quietly. Nick and I were sitting at the kitchen table and I was making short work of the ham and cheese sandwich he had made.

I looked up from my lunch at the sound of his blood glucose monitor, I raised my eyebrows.


His lips puckered as his face folded itself into a frown. "A little low, but lunch should fix that."

He was so occupied with his lunch there was a full ten minutes before he said anything.

"What you want to do this afternoon?" I asked.

Nick shrugged, "I've been tossing around some ideas for a couple of new songs, and Kevin mentioned something about going to play golf, I don't know."

"Personally," I replied, "I just want some alone time I've been on the go all week and I haven't even had time to sit down since this morning, I know you're probably sick of me by now but I just like spending time with you."


It was shortly after one o'clock when we returned to the Jonas house. Joe was going out biking with his roommates and Frankie was playing video games with a couple of friends. I headed for the other end of the house where I knew Nick’s room to be before I was even at the door the soft sound of an acoustic guitar reached my ears.

"Sounds good." I murmured, sliding myself out of my wheelchair and positioning myself on the bed, smoothing out his blue bedspread as I did so.

Nick set the guitar aside. "What you want to do now?" He asked.

"Oh, I don't know." I gave him a coy smile.

I fit perfectly into his arms and for a long time we didn't say anything and just laid there listening to each other breathe.

"Why do you always smell like cinnamon? I blurted out suddenly, in two seconds wishing I could take the statement back.

Nick laughed quietly, his fingers drawing small circles on my back.

"It's the throat lubricant, here." He slid off the bed and retrieved a small package from his dresser.

"I meant to give these to you the other day, but we've been so busy well..." he trailed off laughing quietly.

He opened the package, which almost sprayed lozenges all over the bedspread. Taking one, he unwrapped it and slid it into his mouth his tongue sliding over his full lips as he did so. I swallowed my stomach suddenly in knots.

"That's strangely attractive."

"Attractive?" Nick asked, he shrugged, "it's just cinnamon."

Suddenly his lips formed into a smirk. "You want a taste?" 

I leaned closer, breathing softly, "That would be... very nice..." My smirk mirrored his own.

He kissed me softly and slowly and gently his tongue probed at my lips which I automatically opened for him. I felt something sweet and sticky pass over my tongue, the cinnamon was surprisingly strong it was almost spicy, I swallowed almost reflexively, hot and spicy and unbearably sweet. Nick was getting very creative, his tongue stroked and his lips licked and sucked, forever warm and soft. The taste of cinnamon filled my nose and mouth and it almost made my eyes water I have lost track at this point who was kissing who; Nick and I were one and I didn't know where I ended and he began.

I heard him moan as he pulled me closer so I was almost sitting on his lap. We were kneeling, apart, but as close as we could possibly be. His fingers trailed down my body from my waist to the hem of my shirt where he paused.

I moaned into his mouth willing him to continue and slowly his fingers slid past the hem of my shirt and over the waistband of my jeans; then I felt him squeeze my butt I groaned shifting closer, my fingers scrabbling for the nearest part of him I could reach. My fingers began exploring down his neck, over his shoulders and down his back; they inched down his back painfully slow until I reached a spot at the top of his jeans. I felt skin and fabric under my fingers, the elastic of his boxers (gulp!). My fingers slid around lines and curves, muscles that flexed under my touch and I felt the fabric of his jeans that stretched over those muscles. My hand squeezed his toned backside and I got a groan in response, Nick's hips thrust automatically, as if his body already knew what it wanted, regardless of his conscious decision.

Nick groaned again, "Oh, you don't know what you're doing to me." He whispered.

I smirked, eyeing him up and down, I had a pretty good idea his body was sending clear signals.

He hovered over me gazing down at me with smoldering eyes. He was breathing heavily the scent of cinnamon still hung like a halo around him.

"I think you're delicious." I mumbled, but I knew he heard me because of the flush that rose in his cheeks.

"And you're sweet." He whispered, kissing my forehead.

We were lying on his bed again, I was pulled against him my fingers playing with the hem of his shirt again and I pushed it up slowly exposing his smooth skin.

"Every time you even show a bit of skin the girls go nuts," I murmured, Nick chuckled, but he sounded slightly embarrassed. "the lower the better." I stated matter-of-factly. Nick's laugh turned into a strangled cough and his cheeks turned flaming red.

"Don't be embarrassed." I said smoothly, "You have a great body."

"What do you like better," Nick quipped, "my muscles or my cinnamon breath?" He smiled wryly.

"I don't know," I mused and I leaned down to plant a trail of kisses down his stomach where a thin patch of hair disappeared into his jeans. His body still had me burning with curiosity, and even though I was the older one I still felt very naïve. I kissed his lips thoughtfully. I still had a lot to learn.


Nick and I might as well have had a sign above us but said "we had a steamy hot make out session this afternoon" because nearly everyone seems to notice. My dad had kissed me and said "you smell like cinnamon" and Joe laughed and asked "how many of those that you have today". That was something that was stuck in my mind for the next few days; Nick and his "cinnamon kisses". The entire time I was finishing my album I couldn’t go into the recording studio without thinking of that afternoon.


Chapter End Notes:

Was trying to decide how much to leave and of the dialogue at the end of the chapter. Like I said, I'm trying to eliminate some of my corny dialogue. My writing style has changed a lot and the words I use are different.

You must login (register) to review.