September 2nd 1987 / Rumson New Jersey

It took over a month for Amelia’s bruises to fade, by which point Jon and the band had already started to draft a few songs together.

During that period, Amelia had spent much of her time writing. While the band wreaked audible havoc in the house, she retreated to a quiet spot by the pond with a notepad and pen to draft some ideas for her project.

The sun was beginning to set. Amelia had spent the past few days outlining specific chapters and ideas for her new book, which she hoped to start writing drafts of by the beginning of next month.

“How’s my English scholar doing?”

Amelia used her hand to shield the sun as Jon walked over. He took a seat beside her in the grass.

“I’m no scholar, but I'm doing good. Well, I haven’t started yet, but I’m beginning for formulate and categorise some ideas. How was your jam session?”

“Yeah, good. Good to have the boys back together again,” he smiled, running his hands through his increasingly long locks. She loved it when he did that, it revealed all of his handsome face at once. “We’ve been working on some new material, there’s one I like called Bad Medicine.”

“Sounds cheesy,” Amelia giggled.

“That’s the idea. Tongue n’ cheek, y’know? True Bon Jovi. It’s missing something though.”

“Why don’t you ask Desmond.”

Jon threw his head back.

“I’d kinda hoped to do this new record without Des. He’s great n’ all but I wanna prove we can write them on our own.”

Amelia’s eyes became narrow slits. “I don’t like that kind of talk from you.”

“What? Why?”

“It’s big-headed. Desmond helped you a lot, he came in when the record company were threatening to drop you and helped you write some big stadium tunes. He collaborated with you, and now you want to leave him behind?”

“Leave him behind? He’s a songwriter, not part of the band.”

“Well, I thought he was your friend. You’re more than capable of writing great songs on your own, but I don’t ever want to see you reach the point where you’re so overconfident that you turn down assistance for the sake of your own ego. Perhaps Desmond can help you.”

Jon grumbled a string of muffled curses.

“You would say the same to me.”

Jon huffed at her. She gave him one of those looks, a look that said ‘I know you, I love you, don’t be daft’.

And with that, he sighed and nodded.

“Alright. I’ll think about it.”

Amelia smiled and leaned against his shoulder, wrapping her arms around his muscled bicep and humming. “Don’t be grumpy just because I called you out.”

“I’m not grumpy,” he said, rather grumpily. “I’m just tired. Feels like I’ve hardly had a break.”

“Well,” she peered up with a mischievous glint in her eye, “You do seem to have a problem with workaholism.”

“I can’t help it. I get jittery sitting around all day. Why don’t we go somewhere?”

“What, like camping again?”

“No, take a trip across the country or something. We could spend a week in Cali or Florida or something, get a nice hotel.”

“Is your beautiful house not scenic enough?”

“It’s beautiful, but it’s too close to work. I’ve got three pianos around the place, there’s practically a guitar in every room. I don’t get a break around here, besides it’d be nice to get a change of location.”

“Well, you know I’m happy to go wherever you take me.”

Where he took her was Miami.

He gave her approximately ten minutes to settle into their fancy hotel before he dragged her off to go ‘sightseeing’.

They ended up in a barren lagoon of sorts, beautiful but not exactly the monument she’d been expecting.

“Beautiful,” Jon breathed in deeply, tilting his face toward the shining sun. The sparse highlights in his hair glimmered when bathed in the direct sunlight, he looked positively godlike. “You don’t find places like this in Jersey.”

“No. A lake like this would be filled with cigarette butts,” Amelia conceded grimly. “This is stunning.”

She’d only really seen such scenic views in movies, and then she thought it was all movie magic.

“Fancy a skinny dip?” Jon proposed, already flinging off his shirt.

Amelia surveyed him. One would’ve thought they’d have gotten used to their partner’s looks after so long, but not everybody’s partner was Jon Bon Jovi. Her rampant hormones were feral for him, constantly. All it took was for him to walk in shirtless and she’d be tongue-tied. Any kind of naughty quip or teasing remark sent her ordinarily sharp tongue retreating back into her throat.

“Tempting as that is with your newly obtained muscles, I’d rather not see a photo of my boobs and your junk on the front of Kerrang magazine.”

“C’mon, this place is a secret, no one’s around.”

Amelia shook her head. Jon only laughed at her, she was such a prude.

He didn’t care if somebody walked up and happened to see his naked body, he wasn’t ashamed of it. Amelia was the polar opposite, she still got shy when revealing herself to him – and he’d seen everything a thousand times over.

“Fine,” he said. “But if you aren’t gonna skinny dip, you’ve at least gotta fling from that rope over there.”

“What?? No!” she exclaimed, “You know I’m afraid of heights.”

“It’s water, you’ll be fine.”

“I think I’d rather skinny dip,” she huffed.

“Fine by me!”

But he knew she wouldn’t have it. He stripped down to his boxers and dived into the clear, warm water. Amelia followed quickly afterwards, jumping in with her plain white t-shirt and underwear on.

“Race you to the swing,” Jon shouted. He’d been confident he’d get there first with his inherent male advantage, however he’d forgotten that Amelia was practically an elite swimmer, top of her class and far more streamline than him. She’d already clambered onto the wooden pier by the time Jon made it.

“Tortoise,” she gleamed, kicking some water into his aghast expression.

“Yeah yeah.”

He hoisted himself up with sensational ease. Droplets of water cascaded from his freckled back, and Amelia was sure her mouth hung agape for just a moment.

“You think this thing’s secure?” Jon asked, tugging on the thick rope tied to a branch above. He was sure thousands of people had swung from it during its lifetime. “Eh, who cares.”

He allowed himself a small run-up and flung himself from the edge, creating a catastrophic splash not dissimilar from a blue whale. He resurfaced with a vivacious cheer, pushing sopping wet hair and leaves out of his face so he could regain their bearings.

“Come on baby, your turn.”

Amelia crossed one leg over the other. It wasn’t particularly high, per say, but she was no daredevil. What if she tripped? Or as Jon had inadvertently suggested, the rope snapped?

“Stop being a wimp!” her boyfriend cackled, sending a splash her way.

“I’m not a wimp,” she huffed, “Just not a maniac.”

“It’s water. What are you afraid of, crocodiles?”

“Well, now that you mention it.”

Jon shook his head and laughed. “C’mon baby, get in the water before I come and push ya.”

Amelia sighed. Jon wouldn’t let her get out of this one. He’d spared her roller coasters and death-defying rides in the past, but she could see from the determination in his eyes that she was bound to this activity.

“Ten, nine, eigh-“

“Alright! Move out of the way, I don’t want to land on you.”

Jon dutifully swam to the side of the lake. Amelia closed her eyes and ran. On her first attempt she failed to let go of the rope, coming to a standstill at the end of the small platform. Jon had laughed at her, labelling her as nothing more than a ‘wimp’.

That had been the incentive she needed. It was a rope and water, what the hell could it do to her? She flung herself at top speeds, laughing and squealing as she flew before inhaling a mouthful of lake water. Jon was in front of her as she emerged, he took the task of brushing the hair from her eyes and mouth.

“See, not so bad?”

“No. I think my jump was even higher than yours.”

“Oh?” Jon’s brow perked dangerously. Of course, the ever-competitive man took that as a challenge. He clambered up to the platform and took an even larger run-up, soaring through the air before crashing into the water. Amelia could only concede defeat, she wasn’t topping that height.

Jon emerged slightly disorientated, spitting out a bottles-worth of water as he spun around in puzzlement.

“What’s wrong?” Amelia asked. His dive hadn’t exactly been graceful, maybe he’d hurt himself.

“Nothin’.”

“What do you mean nothing? Why do you look befuddled.”

He ran his hand through his sopping hair, awkwardly coughing a little more water. “I lost my underwear.”

For a moment Amelia was too stunned to speak, so instead she barked with laughter.

“You best hope there's no piranhas or anything.”

“Very funny.”

He looked around again before coming to the painful realisation that they hadn’t floated to the top. He couldn’t spot them on any number of underwater dives either.

“Looks like it’ll be commando,” he muttered.

“No more diving for you,” Amelia twittered humorously, picturing his naked body clambering back up to the board. If any cheeky magazines wanted to get a picture of his naked butt, now was a good time.

“Pft, yeah right,” he scoffed. “I don’t care.”

Ever the exhibitionist, though to his credit nobody was around.

She supposed when you looked like Jon there was no need for insecurities and inhibition. If somebody happened to walk by they’d be lucky to catch a glimpse of him, they’d probably stop and admire.

Amelia didn’t share that same confidence, she’d been raised with more shame around her body and sex in general.

The pair remained in the lake for numerous hours, engaging in splash battles, races, childish activities, and otherwise make-out sessions. Amelia enjoyed chasing him around the water in an attempt to pinch his butt as he squirmed away.

By the end of it, their limbs were exhausted from keeping them afloat. The sun had long since peaked, and the pair clambered back onto land and got changed. Jon pulled his jeans on and tossed his shirt towards Amelia. Her underwear and t-shirt may have dried promptly in the Miami heat, but he quite enjoyed seeing her braless in his shirt with her short shorts on.

They headed back to the hotel. Jon had been sold great things about the hotel catering, and so the pair ordered room service instead of eating out.

The view from the balcony was picturesque. Setting sun, ocean waves, Amelia bathed in pinkish hues; Jon had never seen anything so beautiful.

The hotel itself could hardly have been built much longer after the ‘discovery’ of America. It was ancient, decaying stone only enhancing its appeal.

“Glass of wine, my dear?”

Jon was already pouring her a glass.

“Thank you,” she hummed. As Jon took a seat beside her on the small table, she took a short moment to be thankful.

Her life was truly wonderful. How many people got to say they could visit a place like this? In a luxurious hotel room with five-star catering and a view like this?

More importantly, how many could say they could do it without having to consider financial struggles? Or wonder how far it would set them back in the grand scheme of things?

And most importantly, how many could say they could do it with their life partner beside them. How many could even say for certain that they’d found their life partner? Their soulmate? How many people slept at night truly confident in their relationship, knowing that they lay beside the man or woman they’d search the ends of the earth for.

Amelia truly had everything she could ever want. She was happy in their five-star hotel with the scenic view, but she’d been happy in the run-down motel that stank of wet dog and cigarettes.

It wasn’t the view, it was him,

He threaded his fingers in-between hers and hummed contently.

“I love Jersey, but I could get used to a place like this.”

Amelia smiled. He lay back in his chair looking positively beautiful, basking in the sun’s final rays.

“Did you put sunscreen on?” she asked.

“No. I’m tanning.”

“That’s bad, Jon,” she chided, “We’ve been in the sun all day.”

“Do you ever stop worrying?” he laughed, “I don’t burn.”

Amelia wasn’t convinced. She wasn’t liking all the new discoveries pertaining to the sun and skin diseases.

Music could be heard coming from the ground floor, and upon standing up and peering over the railing Amelia could deduce people were having a party.

“Good for them,” Jon yawned.

“Come on. The day isn’t over yet, why don’t we dance?”

“I’m wiped out,” Jon said, putting his sunglasses on as he lay back.

Before he knew it, Amelia was dragging him up by the belt.

“You’re going to have to learn to dance someday,” she teased, “So why not today? Come on, get those hips moving.”

Jon whined. “Really? To this?”

Below, he could hear Bananarama’s ‘Venus’ on the speakers, loud enough that he was surprised the hotel staff hadn’t put a kibosh on their activites.

“I know you secretly like them!” she gleamed. “And the Bangles.”

“Oh baby, my love for the Bangles ain’t no secret.”

She pinned him with a knowing look. “Your love for Susanna Hoffs more like. But Bananarama are pretty too.”

“Yeah, pretty annoying.”

And smoking hot, he could admit.

“Shush! I know you love this song.”

Jon couldn’t deny that even his rusty old hips were itching to move to that obnoxious synthetic beat. As Amelia continued to glare at him, he had no choice but to reluctantly obey his body’s command.

She’s got it, ooh baby she’s got it!

He followed Amelia’s lead. First a small hip bump from side to side, then the occasional shoulder shrug, until finally he was utilising all four limbs along with it.

I’m your Venus, I’m your fire

At your desire

“Look at you go,” Amelia giggled. She wished he danced more often, or at least put a little more effort into it. “With hips like that you should show them off, come on!”

Jon begrudgingly did as she said. If he could shake is ass for thousands on stage every night, he could at least shake his ass for his girlfriend.

Even if it was to Bananarama.

It was all worth it to see Amelia’s smile – and her dance moves. Her body moved fluidly like a reptile, even when she danced freely and happily she managed to look sexy.

And that smile was very beautiful.

“If I’m havin’ to do all this dancin’, don’t I at least get some bumpin’ n’ grinding?”

Amelia rolled her head back dramatically. “Oh, you men are all the same.”

“How many of us have you known baby? I thought it was just me.”

She shot him a teasing look, one which he had no idea how to unpack.

She moved towards him with a swing in her hips, turning around and moving her pelvis in conjunction with him.

“That’s better,” he grinned, slinging an arm around her waist.

When the verse came back around, Amelia took the opportunity to wiggle her butt against his groin.

“Whoa there darlin’, you’d better take it easy unless you want this dance party to end real soon.”

Honestly, he acted as though he was touch-starved. Him and Amelia were at it every night, sometimes in the day too!

She took no notice of him, she knew he liked it despite his protestations.

And so her little butt kept shimmying into his hips.

“Oh, so that’s how you want it to be,” he laughed, cupping her breasts through the thin fabric of her blouse, “Not exactly the right song choice.”

“On the contrary, I think this is quite the hip-mover.”

Amelia escaped his grasp so she could show him what she meant. Gone was the invisible ‘box’ that some dancers, including Jon, limited themselves to. She allowed her hips to move wherever they liked, her arms to move freely in conjunction with them. All the while, her eyes remained on Jon.

He laughed and followed her lead, allowing himself to jig to the final chorus of the song.

The intro to ‘Don’t You Want Me Baby’ started playing.

“That’s better, now THIS I can get a groove on to.”

And so he took the lead.

Don't. Don't you want me.

He took two steps towards her, a sly smirk claiming his lips.

You know I can't believe it when I hear you want see me.

Don't. Don't you want me.

You know I don't believe you when you say you don't need me.

He grasped at his chest in feigned heartache, slowly sinking down against her body.

If you think you'll change your mind,

You better take it back or we will both be sorry.

By now he was kneeling on the floor, singing his heart out in a hyperbolic attempt to impress his fair lady.

His movements became so exaggerated that Amelia couldn’t help but giggle before pulling him back up to stand. The pair danced like two young kids at the club for the first time, drunk on love and high on life, and just maybe a little horny. They jumped, they twirled, they laughed, and most importantly they shouted along to every ‘OH’ in the chorus.

Whoever’s party this was, they had suitably claimed it.

The music shut off at around ten o’clock, and Amelia imagined the staff had finally had their say.

“Well, that was fun,” she panted, leaning on the railing for support.

“Yeah. I’ll never get tired of seeing you dance.” His hand rested at the small of her back, thumb stroking her gently. “I love to see you smilin’ like that.”

“Yes. We should dance more, it’s good for your body and your soul.”

She watched the sunset while Jon watched her. He should have been making the most of the seaside views he couldn’t get from his home, but his eyes were glued to her. When the sun shone into her eyes it brought out an amber hue ordinarily concealed beneath the brown he loved. Her lips glistened, just begging him to lean over and kiss him.

All the while she was oblivious to his admiration, the sun was blinding her peripherals.

“I love you.”

She turned around with a silly grin on her face. The unpredictable ‘I love you’s were always the best. It was natural to say it as a thank you, or to say it on a special occasion, or during sex or before going to bed. It was something else entirely to look at somebody and feel compelled to voice your admiration.

“I love you too!” she replied happily, resting her head on his shoulder.

Something became lodged in Jon’s throat. Words? Apprehension? He wasn’t sure, all he knew was that his heart was pounding.

He loved her. He’d loved her since he was a kid. He was going to love her for the rest of his life.

“Marry me,” he whispered so softly it was almost swept away with the breeze.

Amelia had caught it though, she jutted away to look at him in befuddlement.

“What?”

Jon’s hands started to shake. What had he just said? The words had slipped from his tongue before he could even think them through, and now he was stuck.

“I said marry me.”

“Marry you? But we-“

“Amelia…” he said, grasping her supple hands. “I love you, I’m always gonna love you, and bein’ here with you’s only making me realise that more. Seeing you smile like that, seeing you laughing today at the lake, it’s all making me realise that I’m sick of being your boyfriend. I want us to be more.”

He could feel her heart pounding as he brought her body closer.

“But-“

He pressed a finger to her lips. She didn’t fight.

“Look, I know it’s impromptu. I know it’s a pretty pathetic proposal, and I don’t have a ring or anythin’ like that. But I have my love for you, Amelia, and that’s all I’ve ever really needed.”

He trembled as he knelt down on one knee. Was he really doing this? Amelia would probably hate him for not giving her a traditional proposal on some cruise or something.

But he couldn’t help how impulsive he was.

“So, what do you say?” he asked, flashing the most confident grin he could muster. “Will you do me the great honour of being my wife?”

Amelia was too stunned to speak. One minute ago they’d been dancing like maniacs, the atmosphere had never been freer. Now her blood pumped faster than her heart could manage.

Just as Jon’s smile faltered, she nodded.

“You will??”

She nodded again, this time with a beaming smile of her own.

“Oh, baby.”

Jon leapt up to kiss her. He was the happiest man in America. Scratch that, he was the happiest man in the world.

The pair hugged each other with lung-restricting force, squealing with celebratory laughter.

“God, I love you,” he said as he breathed her scent. He wanted to remember everything about this night.

“I love you more.” She pulled back with her arms around his neck. “Future husband.”

Those words were enough to bring tears to his eyes. He wished the moment could last forever.

“But what about your fans, your label? Polygram won’t want you getting married, they were already displeased with the Lifetime Achiev-“

“Shh,” he squashed her lips with his finger “I came here to get away from all that. Tonight’s about us, we can think about all that crap when we get back.”

Amelia looked down and smiled. Frankly, she knew Jon didn’t give a rats ass about how the record company wanted him to appear, he wouldn’t let any work stuff come between something as important as marriage.

Marriage.

She couldn’t believe it. She’d always known she’d marry him, but she’d come to terms with thinking it would be years before he’d propose. Rockstar relationships weren’t exactly the same as shoe salesmen relationships, but apparently he didn’t care.

Was she too young? Probably. Was it inopportune timing? Again, probably. Fans across the globe would likely howl in despair when the news broke, but for once in her life Amelia didn’t care.

She didn’t care one bit. She was just excited to be his wife.

“Do you really think we’re cut out for marriage?” she giggled softly, “Our lives are so chaotic.”

“We already bicker like an old married couple, my dear,” he smiled before kissing her, “Mutual love and respect is all we need, marriage will only bring us closer.”

She rested her cheek against his chest, looking back out towards the nearly set sun.

“I can’t wait to be your wife,” she whispered.

Oh, he couldn’t hug her close enough.

“Fiancée, huh,” he plucked up her chin with his thumb, “I love you Amelia.”

His declaration was sealed with a kiss.

---

Advancements 🤭

An engagement 😁 as impromptu for me as it was for Jon! But I thought it fitting to move the story along

How long will the story continue for? I honestly don't know, likely not MUCH longer, although Jon and Amelia's future and past will be explored more in my spin-off series 'Made to be your Man', which you can already find on my profile if you haven't already!

Hope you enjoyed this one 😁😁 let me know your thoughts!