Not This Time

Nina: June 29, 1986

     "It just makes so much more sense," Jon complained as he pulled folded up shirts out of my dresser drawer and tossed them to me. We'd been debating about this for two days now. He was still trying to convince me to stay in Vancouver with him until tour started. I shook my head, dropping the shirts into my suitcase. Jon shut the drawer as I looked over at him. He folded his arms and leaned on the dresser, not opening the next drawer like I needed him to.
     "I've already told you I'm not staying, Rockstar," I scoffed.
     "But if tour starts here, then why bother leaving?" he protested. I pointed to the dresser and he reluctantly turned to open the next drawer as he went on. "You're just gonna have to come back in a week or two, anyway," he said, picking up a pair of pants, "You might as well stay."
     I rolled my eyes but grinned at his logic, nonetheless. He was fighting so hard for this. It was kinda sweet. He just didn't know the real reason I was leaving. I had to go back to my time. Six months here, six months there. I shook my head and smiled a little at him.
     "Stay where?" I challenged as he tossed the pants my way. I caught them with ease and dropped them into my suitcase just in time to catch the next pair. "My reservation ends tomorrow morning, and I can't extend it because there's already another reservation after mine," I explained with a shrug.
     "You could stay with me," Jon suggested as he tossed my clothes at me.
     I shook my head again. "We've been over this, Rockstar," I sighed, giving him an exasperated expression as I caught the pair of jeans he'd just thrown at me, "You know why that's not going to happen."
     Jon groaned in frustration, but it was his own fault. He'd brought us back to this topic. He glared down at the half-empty drawer, but didn't send any more clothes my way. I stepped around the bed and over to him. He glanced at me out of the corner of his eye, but didn't smile.
     "I just don't get the whole secret thing," he sighed, taking a step back and sitting down on the edge of the bed. He dropped his hands in his lap and looked up at me with his bangs hanging in his eyes a little. I sighed too, trying not to roll my eyes, as I sat down beside him.
     "If management finds out we're together, they'll fire me," I reminded him. He nodded, mumbling the line to himself. We'd discussed this countless times. I watched him glare at the carpet in frustration. "If I stay here with you, they'll know."
     Jon looked up at me like he wanted to say something, but he couldn't really argue that point. He dropped his gaze a little and then returned it to the carpeting in front of him. I shook my head and got up to continue emptying out the dresser where he'd left off.
     "Besides," I said, not looking back at him, "There is no way I'm leaving my car in Vancouver while we're on tour. She's gotta make it home somehow," I explained, returning to my suitcase with some pants, "That's why I planned my reservation the way I did, so I'd have time to drive home."
     Jon got up and frowned at me as he resumed helping me pack. "If you'd have flown, you could've stayed the extra two weeks and wouldn't have to come back for tour because you'd already be here," he retorted with a little attitude. I rolled my eyes again and shoved a few pairs of pants into my suitcase.
     "Well it's just too bad," I replied, "Because you can't change the past. It's not allowed."
     "Not allowed?" Jon scoffed, "It's not possible."
     I smirked a little to myself. Oh the irony. "Sure," I agreed without argument.
     I was pressing clothes into my suitcase when I heard Jon open the last drawer. I looked up just in time to be hit in the face with a roll of socks. I glanced down at where the ball had fallen and then gaped at Jon. He smirked back and picked up another roll. I knelt down to pick up the first one he'd thrown at me, and the second one flew over me to hit the bedside lamp with a gentle piff. I grabbed that one too, as it fell to the floor, and stood to look at Jon.
     "Will you.." I held up my arms to block my face as another sock ball came flying in my direction. This one bounced off my arms and fell straight into my suitcase. I glanced at it and then back at Jon. "Will you stop throwing my socks all over the room!" I laughed, tossing the two in my hands into my suitcase. Jon grinned and threw another pair. I reached out to grab it with a slight frown. What a child. I tossed that sock ball into the suitcase as well and put my hands on my hips. "I'm glad I already packed my underwear, God knows what you'd do with those."
     Jon threw the last pair of socks at me with a small smile and shoved the drawer shut with his other hand. I dropped the last roll into my suitcase, shaking my head a little in amusement and closing the luggage. As I locked it, Jon's arms snaked around my waist and his lips pressed against my shoulder gently.
     "At least let me stay the night," he complained softly into my neck as he kissed toward my ear. I smiled at the feel of his lips against my skin and then leaned away from him. "Aw, come on," he grumbled as I turned to look at him. He pouted a little.
     I narrowed my eyes at his attempt to convince me. He was adorable and he knew it, but it was going to take more than a pout to make me change my mind. Jon dropped his shoulders and let go of me. I'd won.
     "It's not that I don't want you to, Rockstar," I told him as I followed him out of the bedroom. As he stopped to sit on the couch, I brought my arms up around his neck and smiled up at him sweetly. "I just know that if you stay the night, you're going to be too tired in the morning to get out of my room," I snickered as he grinned, "and I'll be way too comfortable to argue about it."
     Jon put his arms around my waist again and pulled me closer. "That's what I was counting on," he whispered. I let him pull me into a kiss, trying to win me over. When he pulled away, he gave me a questioning look, asking again to stay, but I shook my head. With a scoff, he let go of me and sank onto the couch. "Let's talk about tour, then," he said.
     "What about it?" I asked as I stepped away to put on some music.
     "I'm kinda worried that the guys are gonna see through your disguise," he admitted. I set my copy of Foreigner's Double Vision on the record player and gently placed the needle at the beginning of the first song. As Hot Blooded started playing, I turned back to Jon, and he went on. "I mean, we were caught off guard and they're not stupid."
     I shrugged and shook my head, dancing back toward him. "I'm gonna cut my hair."
     "What?" Jon spat in disbelief. I stopped and looked at him. The shock in his voice was also quite visible on his face. He shook his head. "But your hair's gotten so long!" he protested. I brushed my fingers through my hair casually. The dark blond mess hung down to my hips now after letting it grow for the past year and a half.
     I shrugged again. "It's happening," I assured him, stepping over and stopping in front of him.
     "How short?" he insisted.
     I shook my head, grinning at him. "It's a surprise. You're just gonna have to wait and see."
     Jon gaped at me and then frowned a little, sitting back against the back of the couch with a small huff. "I hate it when you do that," he grumbled. I smiled at him and he gave me a sarcastic smile back, shaking his head a little. "So what about groupies?" he asked, returning the subject to tour.
     "What are you asking?" I asked, sitting down on the couch next to him.
     "What am I supposed to say to turn them down if I can't tell them I have a girlfriend?"
     I raised an eyebrow. "What did you tell them when you didn't have a girlfriend during the Fahrenheit tour?" His question made such little sense to me. Did he think he had to turn them down because I was touring with him? I tilted my head and smirked a little. He was about to answer, but I beat him to it. "If you don't wanna sleep with them, don't use me as an excuse!" I snickered, nudging him a little.
     It was his turn to look confused. "I didn't think you'd want me sleeping around.." he reasoned. Oh, how sweet! I shook my head, grinning at him.
     "Rockstar, I don't care who you sleep with as long as you don't bring any diseases back," I told him. Jon stared at me. He shook his head as a grin spread slowly across his face. I could already tell he was about to get excited about how open and cool I was, but I held up a hand, pointing at him. "If you give me any STDs, you are never touching me again," I warned.
     Jon shook his head, trying to tone down his grin a little. "Don't worry about that."
     "Then don't worry about groupies!" I concluded with a cheery smile.
     Jon threw an arm around my shoulders and pulled me toward him. I toppled over and fell across his lap, where he didn't hesitate to tickle my middle. Why didn't I see it coming? I really should have. I burst out laughing and kicked my legs uselessly. I sat up and slapped his hands away from me with an amused grin. We laughed at each other for a minute and then I leaned on him again. He put his arm around me and we relaxed, letting silence fall between us as Back Where You Belong started fading out.
     After another long minute, Jon said, out of the blue, "How short?"
     I laughed at him again and shook my head. "Not telling."
     He didn't say anything for a minute as the next song started. I could tell he was still amused at his failed attempt to get more information out of me. Finally, he let out a little snicker and spoke again.
     "Y'know I hate you," he chuckled, not looking down at me. The tone of his voice clearly indicated that he only meant the phrase affectionately, despite the literal meaning of the words. I didn't have to look up to know that he was shaking his head a little. "You're stubborn, and weird," he said, "And you make no sense at all. But for some reason, I'm still here. I hate you for that."
     I pushed away from him and gave him a look. "As if you're not annoying!" I countered, "And persistent, and frustrating. I can't stand you either!" I paused, smiling but trying to look like I wasn't as I reached up and played with the ends of his hair. "With your perfect hair and obnoxiously perfect teeth," I mumbled, "What are you?" Jon laughed, which brought a complete smile to my face. He leaned forward and kissed me again, gently.
     When he pulled away, he smiled at me. I was ridiculously tempted to tell him he could stay the night, but I didn't. I smiled back and leaned away a little, closing my eyes in embarrassment. He'd almost gotten me. I opened my eyes and looked over at the night outside my window.
     "You should probably go now," I sighed, turning back to him. His smile faded just a little as he watched me get up. He looked over at the window sadly and, with no small measure of groaning and grumbling, rose to his feet as well. His arm around my waist, and mine around his, we made our way casually toward the door.
     Jon put his free hand on the door handle and let go of me. "I guess I'll see you in a couple of weeks, then," he sighed. He reached up and tucked some of my hair behind my ear. "I'm gonna miss you."
     "Stop being all solemn like you're never gonna see me again," I scoffed. He couldn't complain anyway. It would only be a few weeks for him. I was the one who had to wait a whole six months, not that he knew that, of course. Jon smiled at me.
     "But really," he joked with a giant grin, "I'm gonna miss you. So bad."
     I nodded silently at his teasing. He was so stupid sometimes, but that was one of the things I loved about him. He gave me that smile again, that one that gave me butterflies. But the butterflies weren't because he was Jon Bon Jovi; they were because I'd never cared for anyone more in my entire life and that someone I cared for was smiling at me. He leaned forward and pecked my lips, saying it one more time before starting to open the door.
     "I'll miss you," he teased.
     "I love you too," I replied back automatically, without thinking.
     When I realized what I'd said, my eyes shot up to meet his and I bit my lip. What on Earth had possessed me to say that out loud? Jon looked so surprised. It might have been funny if I hadn't been so surprised myself. I was now the most vulnerable person in the world and I knew he wasn't going to say it back. Did that mean I was already steeled against the possibility of rejection? I really just wasn't sure.
     Before I knew what I was doing, I found myself shaking my head. "I didn't mean to say.." I trailed off shaking my head still,  "Sorry. I-I..." I looked just about anywhere in the room before finally looking back at him. "I, uh, I-I...I don't know where that came from."
     Jon reached out and rubbed my arms comfortingly. "Hey," he said gently with a small laugh to break the tension, "Don't worry about it." He leaned toward me as he joked, "I'm not going to hold it against you." Then he kissed me. He didn't say it back, but I could tell he was trying to convey it in that kiss, like anyone knows exactly how to do that. He pulled away again with a knowing smirk. I swallowed anything I'd been about to say and smiled stupidly at him. I felt like a moron, for sure.
     "I'll see you in a few weeks," I mumbled.
     Jon smiled and nodded, planting a kiss on my forehead. "I'll see ya."
     With that, Jon opened the door and left my hotel room before I could make an even bigger fool of myself. I leaned on the door and groaned into my hands. I knew he wasn't going to say it. I'd never meant to say it because I knew that. It wasn't even that it hurt, it was just embarrassing.
     I turned and looked out the peephole to find Jon leaning against the opposite wall, staring at the floor. At first I thought something was wrong, but then he smiled to himself. Oh man, what I wouldn't have given in that moment to know what he was thinking about. It might have been me, but it might have also been Dorothea. I watched him look up at the door shyly and then back down at the floor as he pushed off the wall and walked away.