"Sit next to me on the plane."

I was in the middle of toeing off my shoes to place them on the plastic trays at the security checkpoint when Sacha nudged me with his elbow. All of the rest of my stuff was already on the long metal table heading to the x-ray. A few feet ahead, Gordo was getting screened. One side of my cheek came up when I caught Sassy’s gray eyes. He’d been acting so weird since the day before at the soccer game, I wasn’t sure what was going on with him.

But, I’d take him the way he was being right then, normal and playful.

"You want me to?" I asked just to be sure.

He nodded, smiling that huge grin that took up his face while simultaneously making me think of unicorns, before he glanced down to undo his belt. I swear I tried not to look in the general direction of his crotch, but I failed. Miserably. Maybe I should look at someone else’s crotch? You know, to even it out so that I wasn’t just eyeing his.

"I have movies on my laptop," he tried to bribe me, as if that was necessary.

I peeked down the line to see that Gordo was far enough away so that he couldn’t overhear us. Glancing back at the perfect specimen of a man, I made a face. "What movies?" Like that really freaking mattered. I'd probably watch Barney with him if he wanted.

"You don't have any faith in my taste?" he scoffed.

“Eh.”

"Next!" the TSA employee called out.

I groaned and went on to pass through the screening machine. A few seconds later, the woman waved me forward. Sacha went next. I waited to collect my things and kept an eye on him as he stood on the other side of the metal detector, talking to the employee there before being directed to someone else down the line.

Sacha pulled out two small black bags from his backpack to show the TSA worker. He presented the man a few small boxes with colorful lettering on them and presented a piece of paper. I was putting on my shoes while Sacha nodded at whatever the guy was telling him, stuffing his things one more time into his backpack.

“Ma’am, can you move down?” one of the airport employees asked me as soon as I had all my things together.

I moved out of the way and went to stand off to the side. Sacha walked up to me just a minute or two later, still shuffling things around in his bag when he stopped.

"They find your stash of dildos?" I chuckled.

"Nah, just my anal beads," he laughed, pulling out a box that said something about lancets. When I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion, he shoved the box down his bag again. “They like to check everything sometimes," he explained, but I was still confused.

"Lancets?" I asked him, thinking of what they could be for, and then it hit me. I remembered my aunt Dora used to carry around boxes of lancets in her car in case of some freak emergency that she ran out. "You're diabetic?" The way I asked made it seem like it was some deep, dark secret he was sharing. Then again, I guess I sort of felt like an idiot. We’d been sharing a bus for an entire leg of a tour. How hadn’t I known he had diabetes?

"Yeah." He finished zipping his bag before glancing up. "I never told you?"

Sacha hadn't told me a lot of stuff because we seemed to just joke around the majority of the time. We talked about some things like our families and our likes and dislikes, but he was still a stranger to me in certain ways. That seemed abundantly clear now.

"No." I tried to think if he'd done anything to give it away, but I couldn't. He was picky about what he ate most of the time and he didn’t drink, but that wasn’t unprecedented or unheard of.

He touched my arm to lead me in the direction of our gate. "I always test myself in the back room; that's probably why you haven't seen me check my glucose.”

That wasn’t surprising. He woke up after I did and went to bed after me. "Do you have to take insulin?" I asked because if he did, I'd be the worst friend in the world. How the hell do I miss these things? We'd spent a month together, not counting the week I was being a PMSing bitch and ignored him.

He shook his head. "Nah, I have Type 2. I've had it since I was a kid, so I've learned how to control it without medicine."

I remembered how my aunt would get sick pretty often. She'd have days where she felt like crap, but I knew she had to take insulin. "So…I won't have to stab you with a needle?"

Sacha bumped his shoulder to mine as we kept going to our gate. "Nope. Sorry, Princess."

"Damn it," I sighed in disappointment, earning me a chuckle in response. "You brought enough of everything, though?"

He bumped me again. "I did, don't worry."

“Does it run in your family?"

"Yeah. My grandma, my mom, my oldest sister and I are all diabetic.” He hit my hand with the back of his. "I'm gonna use the bathroom; meet you at the gate?"

"All right." He shot me a little smile before turning to go toward the restroom. I stood there and watched his butt for possibly ten seconds. He was wearing sweat pants—like most of us were in preparation of our two-day travel itinerary—and his just happened to magnify his butt perfectly. Ha-lle-lu-jah.

Stop. Stop it, Gaby.

The clearing of a throat had me turning in a different direction. My brother and Mason were walking toward me, both of them smirking like they knew something I didn't. Damn it.

"What?" I asked after joining the two of them.

"I saw you." Eli waggled his eyebrows.

I tried to control my face so that I wouldn't give myself away completely, but then again, this was my brother. Not just my brother, my damn twin. We pretty much had ESP. But… "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh no? You weren’t just standing there checking out his ass?”

I blinked and I scoffed but couldn’t hide the stupid grin on my face. Busted. “No. I just thought he had a stain on his pants.”

Even Mason snickered as Eli pushed at my shoulder. “What? Kissing Julian wasn’t enough?”

“What?” I croaked out, knowing I hadn’t told him about what happened because I hadn’t spoken to him since before the game. Once we’d gotten back to the hotel, I’d gone straight to my room.

“Yeah, you were all over TCC’s fan page. Somebody posted a picture of y’all on the Jumbotron at the game yesterday." He laughed from deep in his big barrel chest.

The blood drained from my face. If being on the Jumbotron period wasn’t bad enough, being on The Cloud Collision’s media page was so much worse. They weren’t exactly a new band. "Seriously?" I choked.

Familiar green eyes glittered at me in amusement. "Oh yeah. Their fan totally posted that shit for all four hundred thousand of their followers to see."

The idea of so many people seeing and judging me… no thanks. Once, a couple years ago, Eli posted a picture of him and me on their Ghost Orchid page. Needless to say, the comments had flattered and insulted me at the same time. Since then, I’d tried to stay away from having my face plastered on the Internet for everyone to see. Some people were cut out for criticism from strangers. I wasn’t. "He just kissed my cheek, Jesus Christ. He didn’t stick his tongue down my throat,” I argued.

Eli made kissing noises as he pursed his lips together like the baboon he was. "Flabby and Julian, sitting in a tree—"

"Shut your mouth," I groaned, knowing he was just trying to be a pain in the ass. While Julian was attractive, I felt nothing toward him except friendship or something close to it.

It was Mason who threw an arm over my shoulder, leaning almost too much weight onto me considering he was almost a foot taller. “You should look at the pictures.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “Why?”

He squeezed my shoulder. “Just do it.”

“But why?” I asked again, knowing he didn’t have it in him to be cryptic longer than a second.

The breath he blew out of his mouth told me I was right. “Somebody didn’t look exactly happy.”

My eyebrows went up on their own, remembering the exact face he was referring to. Sacha had looked disturbed, maybe even angry, and that was a surprise. In a month and a half, I hadn’t seen him more than marginally frustrated. He was incredibly even-tempered and almost always had a smile on his face. With last night being the exception.

But Mase was right.

When I’d turned around after the Kiss Cam and seen the expression on Sacha’s face, I’d frozen and taken a second to absorb it. In the blink of an eye, he’d wiped the look off and smiled tightly. He’d kept smiling tightly the rest of the game. From that moment, all the way up to him getting in line behind me to go through security minutes before, he’d acted a little strangely.

I didn’t let myself think about it. What was the point? Maybe he thought I was a floozy for letting his friend kiss my cheeks. As soon as the thought entered my brain, I pushed it away. That wasn’t like him. It was dumb.

“Who knows what he was thinking. It doesn’t really matter,” I said to him with a shrug.

My friend squeezed my shoulder in return as we made it to the gate and went to a vacant seating section where we plopped down.

I glanced at my ticket before slipping it into my backpack’s zipper. “Is one of you sitting next to me on the flight?”

“Why?” Eli asked.

“Because…”

He leaned back and eyed me. "Let me guess, you’re going to sit someplace else?"

When I nodded, Eliza started howling and thrust his hand out in Mason’s direction. "You owe me twenty, bitch."

"Damn it, Gaby," Mase grunted, already reaching into his pocket for his wallet.

"You assholes bet?"

They both nodded in agreement, exchanging money. "Duh."

“You failed me, Flabs. Come on. I thought for fucking sure you’d tap into those marbles you call balls and not ditch us,” Mase huffed.

For one second I felt a little guilty for wanting to go sit with Sacha despite how reckless for my heart it was, but then I remembered. “Oh, right. Like that time you guys left me at that party to go mess around with those girls, and I had to walk home with Gordo in the middle of the night?”

Yeah, that had them shutting up.

"I hope you both get Ebola," I added with a laugh. It really wasn't that surprising that they'd made bets or that one of them was upset they’d lost. I used to make bets with Eli over the most random stuff. Like how Mom react to certain things. With our mom there were certain levels of anger: she'd rub her forehead if she was only a little mad, next she'd start slamming drawers, then she'd scream our full names out, or finally, if she was really mad—and this was only with Eli—she'd start crying, asking God out loud what she had done to deserve to get treated “like this.”

Sacha appeared a second later, sitting down in the empty seat next to mine and began talking to my brother about some band they really liked that had released an album that day. An hour passed by quickly. The next thing I knew, we were waiting in line to board the plane, and Sassy was asking Miles if he’d mind sitting with Eli and Gordo on the plane so I could take his seat. Miles was extremely laid-back, and he didn't seem to care about the change in seating arrangements.

Once onboard, the plane was the biggest one I'd ever seen. There were three sections with four seats in the middle and three seats on each other side. I just followed Sacha as he slipped into a window seat in the middle of the aircraft with me taking the middle. Carter waved before sitting with Mateo and Julian on the opposite side of the plane. I saw everyone else scatter into different rows.

A lady came and sat in the seat next to mine, telling Sacha and I hi.

Folding my hands into my lap, I turned my head to look at my seat buddy, who had his attention focused on me. “Is there anything else I should know about before the plane takes off?”

One smoky-colored eye went a little squinty. “Like what?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Do you get nauseous on flights? Is little baby Sassy scared of flying and you’re going to need me to hold your hand or something?” I asked.

That beautiful mouth with its plumper bottom lip, pursed. He blinked. “Do you emasculate every man in your life?”

“Just the ones I like.”

He cracked a grin before reaching over to tug on the seat belt across my thighs. “All right, then.”

I opened to say something but before I could, the prerecorded flight attendant came over the speakers with emergency procedural information. She went on and on.

"I'm probably going to pass out soon," he warned me when the speech was over. He was already settling the little pillow into the space between his head and the paneling.

I nodded in agreement. I'd gotten up early to go buy last-minute things with Carter that morning and we'd walked around a lot. A nap was in demand. "If I snore, wake me up, okay?"

"No promises.” He smiled.

Sacha began telling me about how loud Julian could snore, and then I told him about how my dad used to keep us up all night because he sounded like a dirt bike. The plane took off at some point and sure enough, my eyelids started to droop in no time. The little pillow the airline had provided was smashed behind my head, and I remember giving Sacha a sleepy smile.

I passed out.

Who knows how long later, my legs started to feel a little weird and uncomfortable, so I opened my eyes to find that I wasn't sitting up. My upper body was draped over Sacha's lap; the only thing keeping me from being face-to-crotch with his human kolbasa was the pillow. My fingers were wedged underneath one of his thighs and something warm was resting on my neck. I wiggled one hand out to feel that his fingers were cupping my throat. He wasn't moving, which meant he was probably asleep too.

I wasn't going to overanalyze it. I would have done the same with my baboons. I closed my eyes and went back to sleep.

---

"Would you like anything else, sir?"

I had to slap a hand over my mouth to keep from laughing. The flight attendant was bent at the waist and leaning over the lady in the seat next to mine. Hell, I could have poked her forehead if I wanted to. But she didn't care about us; I don't even think she really saw the other passenger or me sitting there.

Her focus: Sacha.

Sacha, who had just woken up three minutes before and had a little bit of drool on the corners of his mouth while one cheek was pink and lined from the position he'd been in. His eyes were still heavy with sleep. After a four-hour nap, I'd woken up with a stiff back, neck and hips, and then shook his arm to get him up when I spotted the flight attendant coming down the aisle with a cart.

"No, thank you," he answered her with a slightly awkward smile on his face.

The woman, more than likely in her early or mid-thirties, stayed in that position a second longer than necessary before lowering her voice to sound… sultry. Yeah, she definitely sounded sultry. I didn’t even think it was possible to sound so sexy. "Are you sure? Anything else at all?"

I squeaked right before Sacha pinched my leg. "No thanks."

"Okay," she replied before sauntering off to the next row with her cart.

"Holy shit!" I tried to muffle my laugh, whispering because I knew she was right behind us.

Sacha shot me a look out of the corner of his eye before picking up his cup of water to sip from. "Don’t say anything," he groaned.

"Sassy, that lady totally wanted to scramble your eggs."

I heard him choke and cough before pinching the bridge of his nose with a gasp. "Jesus Christ, Gaby," he hissed as he tried to get himself under control. I made it look like I was cracking eggs in midair and then stirring them. He reached out to push my hands down with a groan.

"You think I’m joking, but I'm gonna barter your nuts for some snacks later when I get hungry. We still have two hours left on this flight." We were stopping in San Francisco to connect with our second flight to Sydney, and then one more to Perth. Thankfully, the first layover was only an hour long.

Sacha's shoulders started shaking as he laughed, his hand slapping an imaginary Band-Aid over his mouth. "I'll share my snacks with you. Just don't trade my virtue for food."

That had me throwing my head back. "Your virtue? Ha!"

"Gaby Barreto, are you trying to tell me that you think I've tarnished my reputation?" He was trying so hard not to smile, but this guy probably smiled in his sleep—it was an impossible feat.

Putting my hand on top of his wrist, I made an incredulous face. "Do you remember the Pickle Dick incident? I'm pretty sure you," I leaned closer to him because the lady on my other side was awake, "said you liked p-u-s-s-y. I'm sure your virginity's been long gone, kid."

The apples of his cheeks turned pink as he smiled. "Yeah, I did say that," he chuckled. "And I haven’t been a virgin for a while, but I have four sisters and too many fans that like me but don’t even know me. You probably wouldn’t believe me if I told you how many people I’ve been with.”

I didn't really want to ask when exactly he lost his virginity or what his tally was because it made me feel incredibly strange deep in my chest. Superhuman jealousy flared within my organs, which was stupid. "That’s nice," I told him because it was. Most men nowadays slept with women whose names they couldn’t remember the next day. My friends and loved ones included.

"You, Princess?" he asked with a raised eyebrow, something flickering in his light colored eyes.

I narrowed mine in return. "Me what?"

"Is your virtue intact?"

I laughed. I swear, it wasn’t like I wanted to laugh at that specific question because I knew it made me look like a total whore—which I wasn't, for the record—but still. He laughed too, right before I forced myself to sober up my expression and get as serious as possible. "Yes."

His eyes went wide and it looked like his jaw became unhinged. "No shit?"

"No, jackass." I leaned forward to dig my elbow into the meat of his muscular thigh. Sacha was slim but he had a pretty serious build. "I haven't been around the block. I've only had one serious boyfriend—," there was no point in mentioning Brandon’s name and especially not my high school boyfriend's name, "and if you can't feel it, then it didn't happen right?"

Sacha snorted with a smile; huge, bright, so magnificent it made me think of the moon. "That's right, but I don’t know what kind of guys you’ve been hanging out with if you can’t feel it…”

I scrunched my nose, lifting a shoulder.

That magnetic smile morphed into something wicked before he leaned toward me. "You should definitely feel something.”

I swallowed.

A slice of a shiver shot up my spine and I fought the flare of gooey feeling in my throat. "Yeah, probably,” I practically panted.

He smiled at me, and I smiled back, my organs all out of whack.

Sacha reached up, licked his thumb and then dabbed at the corner of my mouth. “There. You had a little dry saliva going on there.”

Yeah, I sat there like a completely dummy. My mouth was more than likely gaping. If anyone else had done that to me, I would have whacked his or her hand away. That was a fact that didn’t escape me. Neither did the fact that I considered what he’d done to be sweet. Too sweet.

But one thing was certain when I started to think him wiping my drool off was intimate…

I needed a vibrator. Pronto.

---

"None of you found it in your hearts to tell me it was fucking winter here?" I hissed at the three monsters standing there comfortably with hoodies on.

They stared at me with wide eyes as I bounced around the sidewalk with my arms crossed over my chest. It was fifty-ish degrees in Perth, and I'd been expecting it to be, oh, maybe eighty or eighty-five. Instead we were stuck outside baggage claim waiting for the promoter of the Australian tour to come pick us up, and I was freezing my imaginary balls off. I was from Texas. We had two seasons: fifty weeks of summer and two weeks of something between a semi-brutal winter and a crappy spring. If it were less than seventy degrees, you would never see me without a jacket on.

My lower back was bothering me after that last ridiculously long flight, and I never wanted to sit again. Well at least for a few hours. With only my cropped sweatpants and an old Ghost Orchid T-shirt on, I wasn't prepared for the wind. Apparently, everyone else had known what was in store. They were all in zip-ups or pullovers except me.

"Come here, I'll keep you warm," Mason heckled from his spot a few feet away.

I rolled my eyes and snickered. The members of The Cloud Collision were slowly trickling out of Customs and baggage claim since they'd lined up last with their work visas. I’d been fine coming in as a tourist on vacation.

"I'm sure one of us has an extra jacket you can borrow," Gordo said.

Not offering to let me borrow his.

Frowning, I walked around behind my brother and pressed myself, arms still crossed, against his back to block some of the wind. "So what's the plan?"

"What plan?" Eliza asked.

"Are we getting another bus or what?" I screeched when a particularly cold blast of wind hit us from behind.

Eliza laughed. "That's why I like you, Flabs. You're always up for whatever without worrying about the details."

"And that's probably why I always get in trouble with you," I snickered against his shoulder. It was true. Growing up, Eli would say “Let's go” and I'd go without questioning where. My trust in him had always been astronomical. Sure we'd get into trouble for being out of the house too long or doing things we shouldn't have been doing—this was namely just Eliza—but it had usually always been worth it.

He looked at me over his shoulder. "We're staying in hotels and the promoter is driving us around."

I nodded against him. It wasn't like I really cared if we were on a bus again or not, but the idea of sleeping on a real bed regularly sounded amazing. "Do I get my own room?"

"You're sharing one with me," Mason claimed.

"In that case, I'm sleeping in the hallway."

Eli snorted. "Dude, I wouldn't want to share a room with you either after that stunt you pulled—"

"I was sleeping," Mase groaned.

My brother didn't even wait for me to ask what Mason had done before he started talking. "I woke up one night when we were sharing a room a year ago, and this motherfucker was jacking off five feet away. I kept yelling, but he wouldn't wake up until I threw the phonebook at him. He's the reason why we don't share rooms anymore. I'll pay for it out of my own pocket so I don’t have to see that disgusting shit ever again."

"I was asleep," Mason echoed his earlier explanation.

Eli made a disgusted sound. "Whatever you say, man. Everybody is getting their own room anyway. I'm hoping to get some Aussie puss—"

"Please stop talking, I don’t want to know," I cried, pressing my forehead in the crack between his upper arm and ribs.

"What don't you want to know?" Sacha's voice asked from behind me.

Turning my head to look at him, I saw he was already wearing a bright red hoodie. I grimaced in his direction. "Eli wants to get laid, and I don't want to know about it."

He smiled. Miles and Carter were trailing behind him, pulling along their own suitcases. "I don't blame you." His eyes swept over me huddling into my brother. A frown came over his mouth. "Where's your jacket?"

"I didn't bring one," I said, wrinkling my face. "No one told me it was cold here."

Sacha didn't even hesitate, unzipping his hoodie, dropping his backpack to the floor and pulling free from the sleeves. "Here," he said, holding it out in my direction. "I don't want you getting sick." The right side of his mouth lifted in a soft smile.

Bless this wonderful, sweet, thoughtful man.

"Thank you!" I slipped that sucker on faster than I put on my bra after a shower in a cold room. The inside was already warm from his body heat and it had that distinct clean scent that I associated with him. It was two sizes too big, but I couldn't have cared any less.

He nodded at me, crossing his arms over his chest. The dark, thick tattooed bands on his arm popped against the simple white of his shirt and the gray of his sweat pants. He was way too good-looking for his own good, and I think that the fact he was so casual about it, so indifferent to his shockingly striking face, added to his appeal.

"You aren't cold?" I asked, being a perv and eyeing his nipples to see if they had perked up.

"Nah. This isn't that cold."

"Excuse me." I mocked him, rolling my eyes playfully. “But seriously, thank you. You’re a real gentleman.”

He just stood there, not warning me of the hard arm that wrapped around my neck a second later, squeezing down on my windpipe. "Go to sleep, Gaby," Eli's voice chuckled in my ear, reminding me of when we were younger and he would practice his wrestling moves. He used to practice the “sleeper hold” on me all the time in hopes he could make me pass out. I tried tipping my mouth down to bite his arm before he pulled away, giving my earlobe a yank in the process.

The honk of a vehicle made us all turn around. A big, white van pulled up alongside the curb with a trailer hitched to it; a young guy jumped out, immediately going toward Sacha. He introduced himself as Vince, the promoter for the Australian tour, and wrangled us into the van with all of our crap. I ended up sitting between Carter and Gordo on the ride to our hotel.

Australia reminded me of what most Americans pictured Texas to be. Texas wasn't cattle and cowboys, like Perth, Australia, wasn't kangaroos and koalas on every corner.

Vince told all of us where we could eat nearby, what places to stay away from, and other stuff I was too distracted to listen to. We pulled into a decent-looking hotel, and Julian pulled my suitcase out of the back for me. The promoter got us all our room keys, and I found that our rooms were on different floors. Half of us were on the first floor while the other half were on the second floor.

On the way to drop off our luggage, I realized I was on the same floor as Mason, Gordo, Julian and Carter.

“You sure you don’t want to share a room?” Mason asked as we both stood at our respective hotel room doors, sliding our keycards through.

Propping the door open with my foot, I nodded. “Positive.” Idiot.

“If you change your mind…”

“I’ll go sleep with Gordo.”

His mouth flattened and he blinked those beautiful blue eyes at me. “I can wait until our wedding night if you want.”

I pulled my suitcase into my hotel room and blew him a kiss when only my head was hanging out of the doorway. “You are so thoughtful. Thank you for understanding.”

I let the heavy door slam shut behind me. The hotel room was clean and small, and I sure as heck wasn’t going to complain. Unzipping my suitcase, I pulled out clothes and took a nice, long shower to wash off the millions of germs I’d picked up on the three flights to Perth. I’d barely pulled on my favorite jack-o-lantern leggings when someone began banging on the door.

“Who is it?” I yelled, tugging a black tank top on.

"Sacha, Bloodsport."