We drove home to our houses in Malibu at around two in the morning, having had a lot of fun, and a lot of dancing. It had completely loosened us up--- completely put us in intimate proximity and I think in those moments, having so much fun, enjoying so much connection, not needing or wanting anything but each other, I knew I was going with him--- I wouldn't give this up now--- maybe not ever.

He pulled into his driveway, opened the garage and his eyes slid to mine. "Your place or mine?"

"Both?" I laughed. "I need a shower."

"Me too. Together then."

"No way." I said, getting out of his car, and carefully shutting the door, still reveling in our closeness, my lovely sexy dress, with the brand new sparkle and weight on my finger. It glittered in the moonlight.

"We have one more day till we have to go."

He came around to stand at the back of his car. I laughed and twirled, and simply languished in the aroma of beach spray, waves, sand, and palm trees.

"You have a passport?"

"Um hm."

"I'll get it to my people."

I was still swaying, dancing, closing my eyes, laughing now and then. I remembered Lance and his partner had joined us, and they were a hoot. I loved dancing with Lance almost as much as dancing with Rafe. He taught me how to do the lasso, and how to go low. Sexy low though, not stupid funky weird low. There were those who did look like they were in an audition for Napoleon Dynamite. Club dancing had its own style. When surrounded by Lance and Rafe and I think his partner's name was John or Juan----

"What's your brother's boyfriend's name?"

"His husband? It's Darnel." He was watching me with this simple sweet smile on his lips, shaking his head at my antics. "You're high."

"On life--- baby--- high on life!" That--- my friends is a family quote--- just so you know.

I remember the feeling of being included when Dylan and Mutt came down with their model girlfriends and we all danced together. It was actually very fun. We danced close. I danced that smoothie spoon dance with Lance, and Dylan and Rafe--- always Rafe, and he danced with those two models---

"What were the two model's names? Are they coming with us?"

"Tiana and Jess, and yes."

"Oh, very good. They're quite nice." He twirled my fingers above my head as I danced closer to him, and his other hand slid to my hip, pulling me in with just the tips and touch of his fingers. It was that easy, and I was that in tune now.

He moved me to the door to his house and we danced up the step.

"I'm not going to be able to keep my hands off you." Rafe smiled as I brushed past him and then brought myself back to mold my hips to his. "Who taught you to grind like this? You said you didn't know how to dance."

I stopped. "Grind? What?"

He pulled me in again, bent his knees and moved his hips.

"Nah ah." I denied. "They said they were grooving."

"All of it is grooving. This move----" He did it again, holding my hips carefully as I leaned away and looked back over my shoulder as I'd seen one of the models do a couple of times. "Is a grinding move. You have it down pat."

I did too, I could keep it going all night, I thought. I liked the way we were connected, but not---- I straightened and blew out my breath. "That's grinding?"

"Um hm." He pulled me close and stopped dancing so he could deliver the first real kiss of the evening. I reached up, having kicked off those incredibly awful heels, and pressed myself, heart and soul to him. Moments like these made me lose my mind--- pretty sure.

"Marry me, Aubrey."

"Yeah." I said, and he kissed me passionately.

"Are you going to remember you said that in the morning? You're higher than a kite tonight."

I wondered if he was trying to figure out where I'd gotten drugs, but I knew that dopamine alone can cause these feelings of euphoria.

"I was just reaffirming my maybe, baby." I laughed and twirled away from him.

Rafe groaned. "The shower is upstairs."

"I'm showering downstairs." I said. "You can shower upstairs."

"I'm showering with you."

I shook my head, opened my eyes and threatened to turn on a light. "No, you're not."

He closed his fingers over mine on the light switch. Then he closed me in his arms, lowered me to the stairs and leaned over me, on his knees to kiss me even more passionately.

I --- of course--- responded.

His breathing came hard as I closed my eyes and pressed myself to him closely--- loving every second of his dominance, his hand on my back, pressing me to him----

"Aubrey."

"Hm?"

"I love you."

I pulled back and looked in his shadowy eyes--- the gleam of which could be seen reflected in the light from the window above us. "Rafe."

"I said I love you." He rolled partly off me, and sat on the step beside me, his hand on his forehead--- telling himself to stop. I knew.

I swallowed-- afraid to say it back. I'd never said it before to a person not in my immediate family. Not a girl friend, I didn't even sign letters with love.

He cupped my cheek, and turned me to face him. "Come upstairs."

"Not on your life." I whispered.

"You're so damn strong." He fell back. "I am so f-ing weak."

I swallowed again--- sat up straight, and pursed my lips. Cussing stopped me in my tracks every time.

"I think I need to shower at home. I need to go. I need to see you tomorrow." I said all these as I got up and made it back to the front door, running now, angry--- frustrated--- and very turned on. And knowing how unfair I was being. I knew he was way turned on too, and I had--- just--- led--- him--- on---! My hand on the door knob, I felt my whole body respond to the urge to stop.

I turned, panting. "Don't cuss."

"I won't."

"Ever again."

"Okay."

He stepped off the stairs, rolled actually, and crawled on his knees over to me, then ran his hands up my legs, his eyes staring up at me. I ran my fingers through his hair. "Rafe."

"Yeah, baby." He was kissing my stomach. I shivered. There was a part of me that wanted this so much I was about ready to give in.

"You've got to stop."

He pulled back and ran his hands up and down my body from my calves to my sides, pulled me back and kissed my stomach again. I yanked his head back.

"I said you've got to stop."

"I want you."

"I know."

"Say you want me too."

"You know I do."

I could see his mouth working. He didn't know what to say. In his mind we were two consenting adults who had just had the night of their lives, who were high on sexual energy and the desire to be together. Why? Why?

"Aubrey."

"Rafe--- I---- I want you--- I know it sounds stupid, but I don't want sex--- right now. And I don't want you marrying me for sex."

He squatted back on his haunches, running his hands over his scruff and his hair. "I told you I love you."

My head jerked in tiny spasms. "And I heard you. But it's hard to trust that---- sorry---." I saw him gearing up to protest, so I held up my hand. "Maybe I'm stupid and love can be had in less than a week--- but the kind of marriage I want cannot be had in that time, and therefore, the kind of love I want can't either. And I feel like---- I feel stupid for leading you on--- because in my heart I think, I do want you---- but I want those other things more."

"So---- you're not leading me on--- exactly."

"Well, not if you want what I want. And you keep saying all the right things to make me believe that you do. Then--- if that is the case--- then we are courting--- to-- to see if we want to spend eternity together exclusively, with no thought of ever being with anyone else ever again. It's a rather unorthodox type of courtship--- but I think--- I think that's the way it's going to be. And I'm willing---- willing to push through--- it's worth it to me."

It was the most I could give. I wasn't ready to commit, not to marrying him and not to saying words of love, that I might have to say to someone else later on, if this doesn't work out, and see? If I am thinking that it might not work out, then I am not ready yet.

"You're saying I'm worth it." He sat back on his butt, legs bent, arms resting on knees, head bent also---- looking at the floor.

I knelt. "I know you are worth it. We just need a little more time."

"And me saying I love you---- what does that mean to you?"

I cupped his cheek as he lifted it to me in the semi darkness of his entry way. "It means-- you want to love--- me. It means you have those feelings, but---- Rafe--- you've said those words to--- many girls I think. Early on in relationships. I've never said them to anyone else."

"You haven't?"

I shook my head, smiling, cupping his cheek, caressing him gently.

He blew out his breath, biting his lips. "I want to believe I loved those other girls. But --- my track record speaks for itself, and honestly--- if I am really honest--- I never thought when I said it that they were the one--- that I wanted to spend my life with them."

I nodded. "It's okay." I whispered.

"What's okay? That I used other women before I met you? That sex is really important to me? That it's how I define myself in a relationship? That if a girl is into me she'll give it up? That I've convinced myself that girls--- the girls I'm sleeping with--- are like me too, using sex--- saying love words--- they are like me! Aubrey! They do use sex, and they do say they love me--- and ---"

"Rafe--- stop it. There is looking back and repenting-- and then there's looking back and beating yourself up. It's hard not to, but you've got to stop beating yourself up. Face the fact that you've made choices--- that you are willing to redefine your perceptions now--- in light of recent events and meeting me--- let's be honest--- meeting me is the catalyst for your decision to possibly change. And it's okay to allow a person to be your catalyst--- God works through other people--- but ultimately it's between you and Him, and it has to come from you. He won't force you--- ever---."

He nodded, big jerky nods, and reached up as I stood, gripping my hand for footing.

"So-- we are courting?" His smile was lop-sided, and his eyes were disappointed and slightly anxious. And also satisfied and intrigued.

"Let's call it engaged. Okay? We are engaged in the act of seeing if we want to be together forever. Not keeping options open, but whole-heartedly seeking to find out for ourselves if we are right for each other. For me--- it will mean a lot of time spent and praying---." I took a deep breath, knowing that I preferred to be praying with the guy I was hoping to marry, but feeling like that might have to come later.

But Rafe caught my thoughts. He cocked his head to one side. He smoothed my hair--- "It's not enough that you are beautiful and sexy. It's not enough that you somehow manage to look at me like I can do anything, that I'm the world's strongest man--- you seem to think I have it in me to redefine my entire life--- and now-- you want to pray with me."

"It's not a bad idea."

He shook his head. "No. It's not a bad idea."

"But---?" I sensed his hesitation.

"Well---" He blew out his breath and stared at the ceiling and then at the room, and then back at the ceiling and finally back at me. He popped his lips, thinking. I waited. "Aubrey--- I think--- I kind of want to pray. But--- I have done some things in my life I'm not proud of--- and things I don't care if God cares that I did--- see? I feel a little rebellious still."

I nodded. "I get it."

"Do you? 'Caz I'm not sitting here apologizing to you or to Him for being with other women--- here you are--- twenty-nine and saving yourself for the right guy--- keeping yourself pure and so--- pure!" He shook his head. "I can't even relate---"

I shrugged. "I was raised differently." I said by way of explanation--- "And, not everybody in my family was able to live by those ideals. I guess my testimony of it is stronger than some. I think I just came here--- to earth--- with that strength."

He cupped my cheeks now. "You're not judging me?"

I laughed. "Now don't go assuming things! I may have the strength to wait, but if I was perfect I'd be twinkled--- and there'd be no need for all this----." I indicated the room at large and our conversation.

His eyebrows dropped. "Twinkled?"

"Mormon lingo for translated. Taken without tasting death... like the City of Enoch--- Moses, Alma---?" I laughed. "Ring any bells?"

He wasn't laughing. His eyes were half closed, turned inward, remembering. "Yeah--- I --- Yeah."

"So---- it's late, or rather, it's early. I should go. We have a big day tomorrow."

He blinked. "Aubrey--- I'm ready for --- to pray. Now, okay?"

I stopped as I was moving to the door again. "Now?"

He nodded quickly and came to me, pulling me into the nearest carpeted room, right next to us, and pulling me down so we both were kneeling. "Is this how you do it?"

"Sure."

"It's super uncomfortable."

"You can kneel by the chair, or by the couch."

"No, middle of the room, with you right here is good. Will you do it? Pray?"

I nodded, feeling a sudden wash of emotion, a sudden anxious heart beat acceleration. I folded my arms and bowed my head, closed my eyes, so I didn't see if Rafe did any of those things, and didn't want him to think I expected him to. "Heavenly Father--- we thank thee for this day, and for our many blessings. We thank thee for--- thou bringing us together--- we thank thee for our homes and our families, and the opportunity we have to go on tour together. We pray for safety as we travel. We pray for guidance and direction in our lives and that we can recognize the promptings of the spirit. We pray for--- to know, Heavenly Father--- how to--- repent of our sins and to know if we are supposed to be together forever. We love thee very much and say these things in the name of Jesus Christ, Amen."

It wasn't a long prayer, but I was a little uncomfortable praying in front of him, I don't know why. But I was. And I never claimed I was a great prayer say-er.

I heard him swallow hard. I looked up. "You okay?"

He was nodding quickly, jerking his head up and down fast. "Yeah, I'm great."

"Was it not--- what you wanted?"

"It was perfect." He looked startled.

I was reassured. "Okay." I stood up and pulled him up too.

He put his hands in his pockets. "Will you--- can you--- stay?"

"I shouldn't." I shrugged.

He nodded. "But will you?" He was looking down, and then peered up at me through those lovely long lashes, with that sweet, hopeful smile.

"I'm not showering with you. And I will go home and check my mail and get my pajamas."

"Fine."

I gave him one last look, kind of perplexed, and kind of okay--- and then trotted out the door.

*****