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Sunlight pierced through my closed eyelids and a grunt escaped my throat as I tried to stay asleep. I felt something warm stir against me and my eyes snapped open against my will. Small puffs of air hit my bare chest and I looked down. There she was, curled to my side as if she had always been there. Her blonde hair was spread out on the pillow and it seemed to glow within the beams of sunlight. I know that sounds fucking mushy as Hell, but I don't give a shit. People always called me the poetic one anyway.

I gently ran my fingers through her hair and had to smile at the softness. It was nice compared to the extensions my previous girlfriends had worn. Looking good and feeling natural were two different things. Women in Hollywood only cared about their appearance to get more attention from the media. It's a simple fact. One of the things that had attracted me to Cayla in the first place was being so genuine. She didn't care about name brands or looking better than the next girl. She liked being herself.

Leaning down, I pressed several kisses to her closed eyelids. She moved slightly but seemed as determined as I had been to stay asleep. Smirking, I trailed my lips down the bridge of her nose, across her smooth cheeks, over her chin and finally onto the lips I had to keep kissing the night before. Her taste was so sweet, and it was like touching the softest velvet.

I told you, I'm the poetic one.

A moan escaped her throat as she became more alert due to my kiss. She reciprocated and soon her hands were around my neck. I shivered when her nails played with the short hair at the nape of my neck and the kiss deepened. When we broke away, I looked down into her blue-gray eyes and smiled.

"Good morning."

"Morning," she mumbled, offering a drowsy smile as I kissed her again. "Did you sleep well?"

"Of course I did. It helps when I have someone to cuddle with."

"So that's all you see me as?" Cayla huffed with a small pout. It was almost too adorable but I decided to continue just to egg her on. Test the waters, so to speak.

"Sorry, Babe, but men have needs!"

"And what about women? What if I was just using you for cuddling? Or maybe just the sex!"

"Some women are like that," I consented, kissing the side of her neck. "But you're not."

"Oh, I'm not?" Her voice made an attempt to sound tough but ended in a squeak when I found what had turned out to be her special spot.

"Nope, you're not."

"What kind of woman am I like?"

"Hmm..." I pondered for a moment, allowing my breath to brush over her skin and a smile creeped onto my face as I felt her shudder. "From what we have talked about, you just seem very down to earth. To go on a date you might dress up or you might wear torn jeans and a tank top. You have a great creative outlet and you see beauty in things other people just glance at or ignore. Not to mention being spontaneous. I mean, bunking down with a famous celebrity after inviting him to your house along with his bandmates..."

"About last night," Cayla spoke up, but rather softly. I pulled away and glanced at her curiously.

"What about last night?"

"Where does this lead us? Am I just another notch in your bedpost--"

"Love the All-American Rejects reference--"

"Alex, I'm being serious."

"Okay, okay. I'm sorry."

"What I mean is... was it just a one time thing?" I could hardly hear the question, as her head was bent down looking at her hands. We had talked last night inbetween the wild scenes of steamy sex (I may be poetic but I also lack any tact) and she seemed to really worry about how I would feel in the morning. Normally this would be a one time thing. I could easily tell her that and promise to keep in touch... but never go through with it. I've done that enough in my past. Am I proud of it? Fuck no. That was AJ. I'm Alex now. I'm trying to do right instead of wrong. I know all those girls were waiting for me, and to know how much I hurt them actually makes me sick. I could never do that to Cayla. Something about her...

"No."

"No?"

"No. Cayla, even if I could try and make this a one night stand... I wouldn't be able to go through with it," I sighed, running my fingers through her hair as I watched the gray swirl within the soft blue of her eyes. "I already care too much about you to do something like that."

"Where do we stand, then?"

"How about we start out as friends?"

"Friends... who have had sex."

"Hey, it worked for Ross and Rachel... Chandler and Monica..." My mind really was like a twelve year old on Ridalin. Or, like Nick's. The analogies are interchangable.

"Didn't they also fall in love and get married?"

"Okay, bad example," I chuckled, kissing the spot between her curled brows. "I would really like to get to know you on a more personal side. Not just through pillow talk. How about you?"

She nodded. "I'd like to get to know you. Not just AJ McLean, the Backstreet Boy," Cayla admitted, her voice still soft and a firm blush was set on her cheeks. I had to laugh and she looked up at me. "What?"

"You're too damn cute when you're bashful."

"I'm normally not."

"What makes it so different now?"

"You."

"What do you mean?" I questioned after she became silent. A pang of trepidition (I know big words, shut the Hell up) hit my heart. What if she somehow changed her mind? That all she could see me was a Backstreet Boy and that was what made her bashful? Don't be stupid. She can't change her mind within forty-five seconds. I scorned myself and fought the urge to roll my eyes at my overactive imagination.

"I don't want to come across as something you don't want to be involved with. Whether it's weird, stupid, annoying--"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," I interrupted with a hard frown. How she could worry about things like that was beyond my understanding. I threaded our fingers together and squeezed them softly, hoping to give her some assurance. "Why would I ever think that about you?"

"You barely know me as it is..."

"I realize that, but Cayla... sometimes all you need is an intimate moment to know all the negative things you said aren't true."

"What book did you read that out of?" she sniffled softly, looking down at our hands. I gently cupped her chin between my thumb and index finger to lift her head up. Our eyes locked. I leaned forward and gave her a soft but meaningful kiss.

"No book. It's something I've been learning over the years. Granted, I still fuck up relationships, but..."

"It takes two people to handle a relationship, Alex. It's not all your fault."

"I thought I was trying to make you feel better about yourself," I offered an uneasy smile as I shifted under the covers. Glancing at the clock, I saw that it was barely eight-thirty in the morning. Brian and Howie would be waking up soon, but it'd be at least an hour before they could get Nick semi-conscious. The last thing I wanted was for them to walk in and see our half-bare asses laying in bed. Those bastards have enough dirt on me as it is and I'll be damned if I give them more ammunition than they need. Especially Nick.

"I'm fine, I just get a little insecure sometimes," Cayla gave a shrug. The torn collar of her t-shirt slid and I could see one of her tattoos. God, she was so fucking sexy with those tattoos-- okay, serious moment, brain. Stop distracting me!

"Just insecurities for me as well," I replied. Which was true. I was insecure about sustaining a true relationship that was healthy for both sides.

"If the right person came along--"

"Insecurities won't matter," I interrupted and smiled when she raised a light brow. "Kevin and Howie have given me this lecture before."

"Maybe you should listen to them."

"What's the fun in that?" I yelped when she slapped my shoulder. "I was kidding! Jeez!"

"You can be so damn stubborn, Alex. I bet for the guys it's like talking to a brick wall--"

"You're just as stubborn!" I shot back, reaching over to tickle her sides. She shrieked with laughter and I couldn't help but grin. Again, this is poetic and mushy, but she had a beautiful laugh. Hearty and full of life. It actually reminded me of when we were still a group of five. I swear, half the time we would laugh about nothing. Hearing her laugh brought me back to those days and I kept on tickling her.

"A-ALEX! STOP! THAT T-T-I-I-I-I-I-CKLES!"

"It's supposed to!"

"Uncle!"

"What? Your uncles here?!"

"No, UNCLE!"

"What the Hell does that mean?!"

"It m-m-means--" she broke out into a string of giggles as I got near her hips. "I give up!"

"I've never heard of that!"

"B-Bullshit!"

"Nope, got to give me something else!"

"I ALREADY DID LAST NIGHT!" She screeched, her face a deep crimson.

"I thought I heard the headboard banging. Never a quiet one when you fuck, huh, Aje?"

Damn you, Carter.