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"J. J. J!" A hard elbow dug into my side and I groaned with protest. Why does everyone interrupt my nap on a plane? Flying isn't my most favorite pasttime... I'd rather sleep from take off to landing. Peeking my eyes open, I saw Marcus look at me with scrutiny.

"What? You almost broke my ribs, man!"

"You're not that much of a pussy," he snorted. Marcus was like me. Tactless, blunt and our vocabulary is anything but clean.

"Thanks for the assessment," I rolled my eyes and attempted to elbow him back but the joint cried out in protest. Jesus Christ. That guy has way too many muscles. I rubbed my elbow with a slight grimace while he just laughed at my misfortune and lack of any extra stength.

"We're going to land in about five minutes, Slim."

"Thank you, Captain Marcus," I muttered, looking out the window while Marcus merely shrugged and went back to his book. The highways on the ground below us were already packed with cars. Glancing at my watch, I realized it was apparently rush hour. Hard patches of snow were scattered in the wildlands that surrounded the road and clung to the bare branches of trees. Winter isn't something I'm used to and when I talked to Cayla last night she recommended bringing several types of clothes varying from t-shirts to long sleeves to sweaters and sweatshirts. She had checked the weather for the next week or so; snow wasn't in sight but she promised if it did snow she would take me to the best place to buy... oh! Snowpants, boots and a down jacket. What? I may have worn similar things like that back in the early years for concerts and photo shoots, but it doesn't mean a damn thing when it's in the middle of summer and in a state where they don't get snow.

The weather didn't matter. As long as I got to spend time with Cayla, a blizzard could hit the state and I wouldn't care. I think about her when I go to bed and she's on my mind when I wake up. While on tour I tried to call her whenever I could and we talked for hours about anything, nothing and everything. I know that sounded corny as fucking Hell, but... she means a lot to me.

"I prefer Lord Marcus, but I can accept other versions."

"God Complex much?"

"No, I reserve that for Nick."

"Touche," I replied, jumping slightly when the loud whirring noises of the landing gear echoed throughout the plane. I don't care what anyone says. If you aren't a fan of flying, you will never be a fan of flying no matter how many times you do so. I've been on more planes than I can count in the past fifteen years and nothing has changed. We began our descent and I had to hold back a groan as my stomach dropped each time we got closer to the ground. The flight attendant made the usual announcement; trays and seats in their upright position, all electronics turned off and then she thanked us for flying Delta Airlines. Finally, we landed and I jumped up from my seat. Reaching up I grabbed my duffel bag from the overhead compartment and Marcus grabbed his. I had to check in another bag at the gate but obviously if you know him, Marcus didn't. He was able to shove all his essentials and clothes into a single bag while I always insisted on another. You never know what will happen! "Let's get the fuck out of this damn plane."

"No one would ever know you've been flying for over a decade," Marcus teased while we inched our way down the narrow aisle of first class. Thank God it was a small flight. The feeling of being packed in like sardines was more than just discomforting. It drove me crazy.

"Rok's ten times worse than me, so fuck off," I grumbled, smiling to the flight attendants and captain as I stepped onto the jetway. Picking up my pace, I walked through the enclosed passage with Marcus right behind me.

"She's not going to be right out in the terminal, slow your skinny ass down!"

"It's cold in here!"

"Right, that's the reason you're nearly running--"

"Can't you give me five minutes peace without giving me Hell?"

"You would think there's something wrong with me."

"Maybe I'd think you're actually normal for once," I quipped, walking out into the terminal. Sighing, I felt all the tension from the flight melt away easily and turned towards the direction of baggage claim.

"How do you know where to go?"

"It's called a sign," I pointed to a large sign hanging from the ceiling with the words BAGGAGE CLAIM and a big black arrow pointing to the right printed on it.

"You know what? Shut up."

"Lord Marcus was wrong once again," I shrugged my shoulders and pulled my hat lower as we came to larger crowds of people. For once it was quite easy to find my second bag and soon we were heading out the doors. A blast of cold air hit me and I shivered though I was wearing jeans and a sweatshirt. Cayla had warned me that she wouldn't be able to just park and wait for me, so she would be circling the pick-up area until either I saw her or she saw me. Looking around, I kept an eye out for her car. A black 2004 Pontiac Grand Am. Of course, when you're trying to find a particular car that's when everyone else seems to have the same one. I continued to search for Cayla, bouncing on the balls of my feet.

"Anxious much?"

"Huh?"

"You're like a kid waiting for Christmas to start," Marcus chuckled as I shot him a glare.

"I haven't seen her in almost two months. She's a good friend and I miss her. Is that a crime?"

"No, not at all. She is a pretty amazing person, no wonder you talk about her so much," He held up his hands in defense.

"I don't talk about her all the time--"

"You're right, at first the only time you didn't talk about her was when you were sleeping but now you even do that--"

"I do not!"

"We have evidence."

"You're lying."

"Piss me off enough and you'll find out if I'm lying."

"...No thanks," I replied, craning my neck to look down the road.

"She'll get here, don't worry."

"I'm not." And I wasn't. Excited? Yes. Anxious? Yes. Impatient? Yes. Worried? Nah. I knew she'd be there soon, I just can't stand still when I'm in that kind of mood. Suddenly, another Grand Am came into view and I grinned. The car pulled over next to the sidewalk and I couldn't help but shout as the driver climbed out. "Cayla!"

"Alex!" A beautiful smile graced her face as she jogged over towards us. Dropping my duffel onto the ground, I had enough time to catch her as she lept into my waiting arms. I held her as tightly as I could while her legs wrapped around my waist. Spinning in a small circle, I laughed as she squealed with delight. "I can't believe you're here!"

"I'm here, freezing my ass off!" I teased as she pressed kisses all over my cheeks.

"What ass?" Marcus murmured, causing Cayla to laugh as I scowled at him.

"Hi, Marcus. It's great to see you!"

"Likewise, Babygirl," Marcus couldn't help but actually smile as he ruffled her locks. I huffed playfully to get her attention back on me. I was the only child, it's a complex.

"Hey, remember me? The one who flew from warm, sunny California to spend a week with you in cold, cloudy Minnesota?"

"Told you that you'd be the female in a relationship," Cayla retorted with a wicked smirk, looking into my eyes.

"Kiss!"

"Demanding much?"

"Yes," I pouted, pointing to my lips. "Here."

"I thought we were just friends who had sex," Cayla teased, her lips becoming mere centimeters away from mine. I could smell the delightfully minty scent of her favorite lip gloss.

"Can't friends kiss?"

"It depends--"

"Don't play with fire. You'll get burned."

"Maybe I want to feel the heat," Cayla purred, her lips barely brushing over mine and I had to hold back a groan.

"Either kiss the poor bastard or wait until later. We're catching too much attention for my liking," Marcus spoke up, sounding quite serious as he glanced at our surroundings. Sometimes I forget about that pesky Backstreet Boy thing... and I'm thinking Cayla forgets as well.

"Poor bastard," Cayla cooed, bringing her soft lips against mine for a brief kiss. Just when it was getting good, as usual, we broke apart and I set her down on the ground with a sigh. Just being friends with such affection as that might prove to be slightly difficult if not problematic. I'm an impatient man, and I know what I want... might do whatever it takes to get what I want. I brushed those thoughts away as I watched Cayla for a moment. She reached to grab one of my bags and I smacked her hand away, forcing a smile. "Alex!"

"Just get into the car, Baby. I'll grab my bags."

"Typical male," She rolled her blue-gray eyes and walked to her car with Marcus and I right behind her. We placed everything in the trunk, then Marcus sat in the back while I buckled into the front seat. The engine revved and soon we were speeding down the freeway towards her home. Well, that was until we hit the rush hour I had seen from the air. "Goddamnit!"

"Should I sing Stuck In Traffic?" I joked with a smirk. The random song Nick and I had made up in the backseat of a taxi cab started a trend and we actually got videos of fans doing the same thing when they were stuck in traffic. It was good for a laugh, though it just made Kevin shake his head while he tried to not look amused.

"I never should have told you that that was one of my favorite candid videos," Cayla groaned, reaching over to try and strike my arm. Instead, I caught her hand and threaded my fingers through hers.

"Can I just say you look fantastic?" Now, the first thought would be that I'm just trying to butter her up so she doesn't beat the shit out of me. That's only a minute part of the compliment. She really did look amazing. Her hair was recently cut and dyed from Ficocello's, her favorite salon (it's the only place she'll go to). She had decided to go dramatic and dyed her hair a reddish brown that glowed with burgundy and amber. Imagine Rihanna's style, but with both sides even and the back cut short, which was gelled into spikes. She chose to wear a slightly baggy dark blue cowel-neck sweater paired with tight fitting flared jeans that I loved. All of that combined with her light application of make-up... perfection.

"Nice save, McLean," she muttered, her cheeks becoming pink while Marcus chuckled from the backseat. Shaking my head, I squeezed her fingers gently.

"I mean it."

"...So you like my hairstyle?"

"I love it," I promised, crossing my heart with my right hand.

"Thank you," She replied as I pressed a kiss to the side of her face. "I'm sorry about the traffic, though. I normally go a different way home from the airport--"

"It's not a big deal. If you think this is bad, you should be in LA on a Friday afternoon."

"Somehow I think I'd go postal."

"Probably."

"You're funny."

"You said it, not me."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Cayla scowled though she continued to creep her way down the highway along with the other cars. I had seen worse, but I could tell she was getting impatient.

"At least it's not snowing?" I tried, hoping she would laugh. It was a line she used a lot when I complained about wherever we were touring and it got my mind off the negativity.

"Hey, that's copyrighted!"

"By whom?"

"...Me!" Cayla replied, giggling as I smiled. Did I mention how much I love her laugh? Yes? Well tough shit because I mentioned it again. Seriously, I love hearing her laugh and in my opinion she doesn't do that enough.

"I think you need to pay a shitload of money to copyright anything. Y'know, like that guy from Ghost Hunters."

"My catchphrase is much better than Dude, run! and Brian Harnois is an asshole," She snipped back, though that smile still graced her face.

"Fair enough," I allowed my thumb to run across the back of her hand as I continued to watch her. It seemed so long since we were last together. "What do you have planned for this week?"

"Smooth transition," Marcus muttered from the backseat.

"Shut your face, Lord Marcus."

"I'll shove my foot up your ass so hard that your receding hairline will reach the back of your skull."

"Bring it on."

"You little--"

"HEY! No violence in Cayla's car, please. Nor any violence while she is trying to enjoy the company of Alex," She glanced at me and then at Marcus through the rearview mirror. "I'm asking you both nicely."

"Fine," We both replied, if not a little disappointed.

"Do you want to know what you're doing with me this week or not, Alex?" My mind of course went straight into the gutter. I'm a man and a human being... I don't have much excuse besides that. Licking my dry lips, I leaned over and whispered into her ear.

"I'll be fine as long as I know something will begin in the bedroom and end with you screaming my name."

"What if it doesn't?" Cayla's voice sounded smooth and even, but I could see her hands grip the steering wheel. I sighed, allowing my breath to brush through her hair and across her skin before pressing a soft kiss against her neck.

"If you say it doesn't, I'll say you're lying."

"Still assuming everything before analyzing anything. It's not a particularly good habit, Alex. What kind of friendship are we having with these booty calls?"

"Booty calls? Did we revert back to 1998?"

"Random fucks, then?"

"So crude."

"I learn from the best."

"As do I, Darling," I replied as the car came to a stop. Taking the moment, I cupped her face in my hands and kissed her in the way I wanted to when I saw her at the airport. Once we broke apart, our foreheads rested against one another for a moment and I smiled, pecking her lips. "How much time in the bedroom did you plan out?"

"Alex!"