"Flabby, I'd love a massage," Mason blatantly suggested, bumping his shoulder against mine.

I bumped his back. We were sitting in our new bus: a fancy double decker that made our U.S. bus seem tiny. The first floor had the kitchen and living space, while the upstairs had the bunk area. At that moment, Mase and I were sitting on one of the couches eating fish and chips that my brother had scrounged up somewhere before the show ended.

It had been a great first day. The first two legs of the Rhythm & Chord tour had been amazing, taking us all over the U.S. and Australia, but London had been beyond perfect. The crowd was different. The energy was different. And I was enjoying the hell out of the fans with their accents.

"Mason," I bit into a fry. "I'd love to not have a period, but we don't always get what we want."

He barked out a laugh, dipping his fish into my vinegar. "Well, I'd love it if you didn't have a period either, you damn psychopath." Mason winked at me before pulling on the end of my ponytail.

I snorted. "I'd love it if you took a shower."

"I did!" he gasped, knowing he was full of shit.

"Yesterday," I laughed.

Mase just smiled this sideways, teasing grin as he finished off his food. He stole a small piece of fish from my plate, and then tried to distract me from his thieving ways by throwing an arm over my shoulder and leaning into my side. "So, Flabby, are you and that kid finally together?"

"What kid?" I asked him in a low, secretive voice.

"Sacha," he whispered back.

We were pretty much alone on the first floor with the exception of Miles and Julian who were on the other end of the bus. Everyone else was on the second floor doing God knows what. There really wasn't a point in him trying to be secretive, but I thought it was amusing anyway. The bastard tried to be quiet at the wrong times.

"He’s older than you are,” I noted before adding, “and I don't know, why?"

His dark blue eyes narrowed. "Because I need to know whether to tell him what’ll happen if he does anything stupid," he said matter-of-factly.

I had to tuck my lips in to keep from smiling at his form of a threat. "Really?"

Mason nodded, tightening his hold around me. "Flabby, you know I don't have any sisters—"

"Thank God," I let out one tiny snort, imagining a female Mason.

He sniffed. "But if we aren't getting married—"

I snorted.

"Then I need to make sure some douchebag isn't going to break your heart," he said before wincing. "Again."

I couldn't help but roll my eyes at his addition. "Thanks for the reminder, asswipe."

Mason simply smiled and shrugged. "I got him back for you, don't you worry there." The reminder of what had gone down in San Antonio just made me grin. They had been so quiet about what exactly happened that required Brandon to get three new tires, that I still had no clue. Why he hadn't gone for all four was beyond me, but knowing Mason, there was a reason.

That didn't mean it was necessarily a good reason, but whatever.

“Did you tell him about Laverne and Shirley already?”

Yeah, I had to pinch the bridge of my nose after that question. “You mean Lucy and Ethel,” I clarified. “No, I haven’t told him. I don’t know how.”

“Don’t ask me, Flabs. I say surprise the shit out of him.” He did his best Striptease reenactment by pretending to rip his shirt wide. “What is he going to do? Barf? Say oh no? Pssh. No way.”

"Oh, Mase," I smiled at him, "what would I do without you?"

He shrugged, all loose muscles and languid smiles. "Dream about me."

"Ha!" I leaned toward him and pressed a kiss to his cheek. "In my nightmares."

Mason snickered and squeezed me one more time before dropping his arm with a sigh. "Speaking of nightmares, your brother and your honey bun are coming over; I think we made him jealous."

I rolled my eyes and got up to throw away both of our plates. Sure enough, Eliza and Sacha were right behind me in no time. But my gray-eyed friend, who had told the sold-out audience that night how much he liked brunettes, didn't seem flustered at all. The last thing I'd want to deal with was someone jealous over the likes of Mason. My Mason, who was like a hot adopted brother that escaped from a mental facility.

Once the other two joined us, we hung out for a couple of hours playing Spoons while they told me places we should try to go while the tour was in England. I wasn't really tired, but I went to bed at the same time as Eliza anyway, leaving Mason and Sacha in the living area watching television.

At some point once I’d dozed off, I woke up sensing pressure on my hand before I saw light coming through a crack in my curtains. Squinting, my eyes adjusted enough for me to be able to see it was Sacha touching me. His bunk was located directly above mine once more.

“You okay?” I whispered.

Those long fingers I admired on a regular basis stroked my jaw. “Yeah. I didn’t mean to wake you. Go back to sleep.” He didn’t give me a chance to ask what his intention had been. He ducked his head into my bunk, kissed my cheek, squeezed my shoulder and shut the curtain.

Yeah, I couldn’t go back to sleep after that. It wasn’t until at least ten minutes later that I started wondering why I hadn’t invited him to lay with me.

---

The next night, after an awesome show in Glasgow, I was already in bed when the curtain got pulled back. I knew who the intruder was before my eyes finished adjusting.

"I can't sleep," Sassy Pants whispered.

I yawned, thought for a second about how I could possibly answer, and then waved him in. He thought about it for as long as I did: one single second. There wasn't too much room in my tiny little bed but I didn't care, and apparently, when he climbed in immediately afterward, he didn't care either. It wasn’t the first time he’d slept next to me so whatever. The idea that this was moving fast, when in the past I’d waited more than four months before sharing a bed with my ex, didn’t occur to me. This was Sacha. My friend and more, and nothing felt like this—us—did.

I had to shuffle until my back was against the wall behind me while he wiggled in, closing the curtain behind him.

"Sing me a lullaby." He slid his arm around me effortlessly and pulled me to him, lining us up so we were face to face.

My laugh was weak and sleepy as I kissed his soapy-smelling, clean cheek. "Rock a bye, baby," I started. "Okay, goodnight."

Sacha laughed quietly into my skin, his hand stroking my lower back as he pressed his chest to mine. I could feel him tilting his head down to kiss the corner of my mouth. "Goodnight," he said, pressing those warm, warm lips to my sleepy ones.

How would he expect me to not reciprocate when that fantastic, full mouth touched mine?

Closed mouth, unhurried kisses piled on top of one another. Moments turned into minutes and soft pecks turned into softer, open-mouth kisses that had my heart racing. Sacha pulled back to let out a small breath, tucking me into him even more. His body was warm and firm; it took me all of thirty seconds to fall asleep after he kissed me one last time.

---

Mason's question haunted me for days.

What were Sacha and I?

We spent most of our time together. Okay, that was a fat, stinky lie. We spent all of our time together when it was possible. Between interviews, soundchecks, and my brother taking me places, we didn't get to spend all day joined at the hip but that was fine. When it was possible, it happened.

During shows, he'd sneak to the merch area with his hoodie disguising him and talk to me. I'd take my break strategically before he went on to wish him good luck. During shows, he usually said something directed toward me, like mentioning his attraction to brunettes. Then each night, he’d climb into my bunk and spend the night with me after we muffled our laughs over whatever we found funny in that moment.

It was a blinding kind of thing, this unbelievable friendship—this love—I had with and for him. It was mine and it made me happy, and I reveled in it.

But as much as his words and his kisses enveloped me, I still wondered. Calling us friends with benefits seemed so cheap, so unimportant. I knew he cared for me as more than just a friend. I could feel it in my bones.

---

A little over a week into the Europe tour, it seemed like someone upstairs in the white kingdom of harps and wings, decided that they wanted to help me out with this state of confusion that had taken over.

A friend of Julian’s—why it was always Julian’s friends that stirred things up was beyond me—decided he liked his American meat.

That American meat being me.

All night, the guy had been flirting with me. That lilting English accent whispered to me how cute he thought I was when he checked out Ghost Orchid merch. It wasn't like I was going after his compliments or paying the guy any attention because I wasn’t. When he first started, I just told him, “I’m dating someone.” Simple enough, right? It didn’t stop him, though.

He just kept coming back, and I found myself edging toward Carter and Gordo’s company every time he made an appearance.

It was after the show when we were outside waiting to finish loading up, that I walked over to a group standing around. Sacha was standing in the loose circle with Julian and the little flirt from earlier. As soon as I saddled up a comfortable distance away from Sacha’s side, he shot me a wide grin and took two steps over, throwing his arm over my shoulder. His chin was tipped down as he said, "Hi, Princess."

I slipped my arm around his waist and smiled. It wasn’t like we were trying to hide the affection between us; he was free with his hugs and attention and so was I. But I wasn’t the kind of girl who constantly needed someone holding my hand to feel special. Then again, that didn’t say much because he could have stuck his finger in my ear and I would have thought it was cute. "Hi."

One of Julian’s other friends visiting that day cleared his throat, making Sacha rearrange us back in the direction of the rest of the group. He hauled me in closer and gestured in my direction with his head. "Guys, this is my Gaby. Princess, this is—"

Time stopped.

I couldn't remember anything after he said my name.

My Gaby.

My Gaby.

Not everyone's Gaby. Not Flabby. Not Eli’s sister. Not just plain old Gaby.

Sacha's Gaby.

The only thing I managed to catch was The Flirt raising an eyebrow because I was in a damn dream world.

When Sacha slipped into my bunk later on, in what had become our routine, I raised an eyebrow. "I'm your Gaby?" I asked him first thing in a whisper as soon as we were settled under my sheets.

My friend grinned that earth-shattering smile that made my ovaries scream. "Yeah."

"Huh," I huffed.

Sacha dipped his mouth to mine, wrapping a flexed arm around me to pull us chest to chest. "You didn't know that you're my girl?" He pressed a long, lingering kiss on my lips.

I kissed him back, trying to leave a similar impression on him. "I didn't get the memo."

"You didn't?" he asked in a teasing voice. When I shook my head, he pressed his lips to the corner of my mouth. "You are."

"I am?"

He nodded. "Yup."

"So you're my Sassy?" I asked against his neck, brushing my mouth over the smooth skin right by his shoulder.

Sacha groaned when I kissed him there. "All yours," he clarified in a husky voice.

“Good.”

“I think so.”

I grinned at him and he grinned right back.

His index finger inched up to trace the shell of my ear. “I heard Sam was flirting with you all night.”

My eyes were too busy being closed in response to his touch, to visibly take in whatever expression was on his face. “Was that Julian’s friend?” I asked in a low, almost dreamy voice as he planted a kiss alongside my hairline.

“Mhmm,” he replied, placing his lips in the same spot again.

“Then yes, he was.” It took way more self-control than it should have to pry an eyelid open and peek.

His reply was a grumble that reached all the way to my toes. “Too bad for him.”

It was just a flash flood of lips and more lips, hands on ribs and under T-shirts. He slanted his mouth over mine, brushing his tongue against me, over and over again. The hand I had on his hip, started to crawl under his T-shirt, smoothing over his hot skin and lean muscles.

Sacha’s hand kneaded my hip before inching its way up my shirt, his fingertips brushing the skin of my stomach. It was such an innocent gesture but it made me freeze. It reminded me of what I’d been putting off telling him.

Wonderful Sacha must have sensed the change in tension coursing through me because he stopped and pulled away just slightly. “Too much?”

God bless him. I leaned up enough so that I could kiss his collarbone, my heart racing because of our kisses but mainly because I was worried about telling him the truth. Realistically, I knew that chances were, he wouldn’t recoil in disgust or yell or anything dumb like that, but… the idea of sharing this small secret was still intimidating and a little scary. What if he did think it was weird? I was weird?

“I have something I need to tell you,” I blurted out before I could change my mind.

He smiled gently. “Okay.”

Okay? Well, all right. His fingertips brushed against the same bare spot on my stomach they’d been in when I’d freaked out. “I have breast implants.” And, I went for it. Just went right on in without knocking, damn it.

Not a single word or sound came out of him for possibly five seconds. Then all of a sudden he hummed and kissed me. “Okay.”

Another okay? That’s it? “They were asymmetrical. I had surgery,” I explained even though he hadn’t asked but I wanted him to know, to understand. Not that it mattered but…

That had him pulling back all of two inches to look me right in the eye. “That sucks, Princess.”

Uhh… Was I feeling let down that he wasn’t reacting differently? “That’s all you have to say?” I asked.

I could see him blink in the darkness of the bunk. “Yeah. I don’t care if you have them or not. I’m sorry you went through that. I’m sure it was tough,” he added, squeezing my hip.

And that was that. In that moment, I felt like I was relinquishing the rest of my life to this man. Gladly. Willingly. Effortlessly.

Neither one of us said anything after that for a long time.

At one point, as he made out, his hand cupped my breast over my shirt, his thumb grazing my nipple.

He rolled me onto my back, settling between my legs like he'd been there for years. We’d been keeping it easy and sweet in the nights before. He kept kissing me, but it was when I felt him dropping his weight so that our hips pressed together, that I almost cried tears of joy.

Sacha was hot and hard against me. When he started rolling his hips, pressing what felt like a nice, long cock against me, it was only because his mouth was glued to mine that I didn't whimper out loud.

"Jesus, Gaby," he whispered, rolling his pelvis so the ridged head between his legs rubbed the apex of mine through our thin clothing.

I knew that we needed to be quiet, but when his tongue licked my neck before he started sucking softly, I had to bite my lip to keep from moaning like a total porn star on camera. That didn’t stop me from wrapping my legs around his waist and arching against him. My hands roamed up and down his spine, smoothing over the taut muscles that were flexing with his hips.

His thumb kept grazing my nipple, slow, steady circles that complimented the steady thrust of his hips and cock. Sacha's mouth was so warm and his tongue so sensual, I couldn't think. That blunt head kept rubbing against me so deliciously that I wished more than anything we weren't in my tiny bunk, surrounded by fifteen other people, fully clothed.

When I felt the start of my orgasm through the pit of my belly, I pressed my forehead to his shoulder as he kept thrusting his hips against my heat. There wasn't a doubt in my mind that I was so turned on I'd probably soaked through my underwear and my sweats. But when I came, with white spots dotting my vision and a silenced cry to his neck, I wouldn't have cared if we were in the middle of the street doing it.

With a few more grinds against me, I felt his whole body tighten under my hands. He shuddered, cursing so quietly it sounded like mumbling. My limbs felt loose and way too happy as Sacha's eyes met with mine and he gave me sly smile, kissing me slowly once more.

"You’re killing me," I groaned before he rolled off of me. A huge smile took up my face. I put my head on my palm, and simply savored the sight that was this beautiful man.

Sacha blinked before rolling to his side, stroking his fingertips across my face with a smile. He sighed right before leaning in and sucking on my bottom lip for a moment. "That was better than—," he looked at my eyes and paused, probably thinking better of whatever was originally going to come out of his mouth. "Everything." Sacha gave me a goofy smile before slipping out of my bunk to change.

As I lay there, I smiled, totally blissed out. These next three weeks were going to be awesome. I just knew it.

---

“You get some of that pink zucchini yet?”

I burst out laughing at Laila's question. I'd borrowed Gordo's laptop to Skype with my bestest friend on the entire planet—not counting the Disciples of Doom and Sacha. It had been more than a month since the last time we'd talked, and I had a lot to tell her in “person” what I didn't want her to find out about via email. We’d already caught up on just about everything else, except the good stuff.

Specifically, my nightly grind sessions.

Just thinking about them got me all hot and anxious.

"Not yet," I grumbled, smiling. "It's hard enough when there's fifteen other people a few feet away."

Laila shook her head as she grinned. “You hussy.”

"I never said I wasn't," I laughed.

“But you're finally staying in hostels?”

We were traveling in a sprinter van now that we were in France and staying in hostels and cheap hotels. I was excited to sleep in a real bed. Right. ‘A real bed.’ We’d go with that. "Yes, we are."

“Good luck with that piece of vegetable!” She winked.

I snorted and gave her a thumbs-up. "I’m going to go vegetarian, just watch."

Her head ducked out of the screen shot, but her loud, rough laugh got clearly picked up by the microphone. Her “there’s something seriously wrong with you” made me crack up.

“I’m teaching you my tricks, kid. Take notes.”

That made her laugh even harder, the top of her head peeking up at the bottom of the screen. Slowly, she sat up, her dark skin pink and flushed as she wiped at her eyes. “I have my own tricks. The damsel in distress works every time.”

I'd always thought that Laila's self-confidence was one of the greatest things about her. That girl knew she was something special.

“Did you tell him about Lucy and Ethel?” she asked.

The memory of that conversation was still fresh. “Oh yeah. He didn’t even blink. Later on, he told me he’d thought I was just being modest—”

That had her screeching. “Modest? You?”

“Shut up,” I hissed with an amused snicker. “So I like to wear shorts, leave me alone.” My brother started bellowing my name out from down the hall, so I sighed. "I need to get going. Eli is hollering for ‘Doctor Flabby,’ and he sounds like he’s dying. I'll email you soon, okay?"

She nodded and blew me a kiss that I blew back before we each logged off Skype. I was putting the computer to sleep when two large hands curved over my shoulders.

"Have fun talking to Laila?" Sacha's voice was low as he spoke.

I looked up at him, grinning. "Always. I miss her."

He smiled back at me before bending over to plant an upside-down kiss on my lips. "Your brother's looking for you. He has a splinter he can't reach, and he refuses to let anyone else try to get it out."

Of course. "Doctor Flabby is on her way."

He snickered. "If you were a doctor and your picture was online, I'd probably become a hypochondriac," he chuckled, taking a step back.

Getting off the chair and slipping the laptop under my arm, I smiled at the guy in front of me who was too good looking for his own good. "Thank you?” I blinked. “I think."

He slipped an arm over my shoulder and pulled me to him a little roughly. "I'd even let you give me a rectal exam."

We both laughed so loud it echoed down the hallway. Honestly, I’m surprised I didn’t fall on the floor but that was probably because we were side-by-side.

"Let me go sign up for medical school right now," I told him, slapping his stomach with the back of my hand.

“I’m ready to spread them whenever you are.”

Oh my God. I burst out laughing again, slapping my hand over my face. “Let me invest in a good flashlight then.”

He dropped his arm and kissed my cheek all sloppy, wet and perfect as he laughed. "Where have you been all my life, huh?"

"In Texas?" I offered with a stupid face.

Sacha just shook his head, grinning, before squeezing my wrist and linking our fingers together. "In that case, I'm glad you got out of there."

---

It wasn't until we got to Zurich that we were able to stay in a hotel. The hostels we'd stayed in while the bands played Frankfurt and Stuttgart were fine, except I'd been stuck sharing a room with my brother, Mason, and Gordo both nights. The first day I woke up, they'd drawn whiskers on my face with a marker. The second night, I made sure to sleep face down with a sheet over my head. Assholes.

"I have my own room," Sacha informed me when we were in the van heading to the hotel.

I raised my eyebrow at him, grinning. "Oh, really?"

He nodded, narrowing those gray-blue eyes in my direction. "Stay with me. I've missed your big butt up against me."

"Of course you have." I leaned into him. "I'll get Carter to share a room with me so I don't have to listen to Eli singing about you and me sitting in a tree tomorrow morning."

Sacha shook his head, smiling huge. "He told me earlier that if I knocked you up while on tour, we'd have to get married and name the baby after him."

I threw my head back and laughed. "Oh God."

He shrugged. "I'm okay with the terms." Sacha kissed my cheek before lowering his voice. "Let's get started tonight," he teased. At least I think it was a tease.

"What?" I squeaked because the whole baby thing kind of scared the shit out of me. I loved kids, I just wasn't sure if I wanted them anytime soon. Or ever.

"I'm kidding," he smiled gently, reaching out to hold my hand and squeeze it. "At least about the kids. We’ll have to figure out something when I have to leave again."

The reminder that this between us was so new, that he lived in one state and I lived in another, sat oddly in my chest. I was so used to seeing him nearly all-day every day that I wasn't sure what we were going to do once the tour was over in a couple weeks. I didn't want to bring it up right then. Sacha saying that we'd have to figure out something gave me a sort of reassurance that he was willing to have something to work on once life went back to normal.

When we got to the hotel, I followed Sacha to his room, flicking off my brother when he started moaning from down the hall, "I'm going to be sick."

I hadn't gotten used to how much smaller everything seemed to be in Europe. The rooms were more compact, and even the shower stall was narrower than I was used to. But I wasn't going to complain as I dropped my backpack on the floor next to the double-sized bed.

"You want to shower first?" Sacha asked.

"You can go first. You're faster than I am," I told him.

He nodded, digging through his backpack for his clothes and toiletries before slipping into the tiny bathroom. In less than ten minutes, he was out, and I thought I'd died. Wearing only a pair of his beloved black basketball shorts, it was a miracle I wasn't standing because I would have fallen over. Sacha had some serious definition to his upper body; there were planes and crevices of muscles over his frame had me drooling in approval.

And the bastard knew it because he just smirked in my direction.

"Shut up," I mumbled as I slipped past him only to reach back and pinch his butt cheek before closing the door. I could hear him laughing from the other side while I showered quickly.

Once I finished getting dressed, I opened the door to find him sprawled on top of the bed, still shirtless, flipping through the channels on the small box television. I smiled before taking a seat next to him. He looked over at me before reaching out to place his hand on my thigh, rubbing up and down the length of it.

I took the time to count the solid bands of ink that striped up his arm. There were thirteen of them total, starting at his wrist and going up his shoulder in perfectly even spacing. "Was there a reason for these?" I asked, knowing his gaze was still on me.

Sacha took my hand with his free one, and placed it on his forearm. "Each band is a reminder of the number of labels that rejected us before we got a yes," he answered. "I like remembering that no matter how successful I might be now or in the future, it wasn't an easy journey." He paused for a moment. "Is that cheesy?"

"No," I snorted, because it wasn't. This was my pretty humble guy who didn't act or look in the way I'd expected him to in the beginning. "I think it's neat." I slid my fingertip around the band covering his elbow. "And the one on your chest?"

He looked down at the thick swirl of black on his pectoral. "I just thought it looked good," he laughed.

I shook my head, snorting. "You're an idiot." I poked his taut stomach. “The one on your neck?” I grazed the piano keys with my fingers and watched as his tipped his head to the side to capture them against his skin.

“It’s my favorite instrument. Did you know I started playing when I was three?” I shook my head. “I did. I’m classically trained. I remember my mom sitting behind me on the bench before I was old enough to reach the pedals, trying to teach me.”

How cute would that have been? A pale-skinned little boy with crisp black hair and huge gray eyes? Bah. I kept that to myself and instead asked, "You have any more tattoos?"

"One," he said in a flat voice.

"Where?" I asked him suspiciously.

Pale eyes blinked. "On my ass."

"No way!"

"Yes way."

A second later, I was trying to roll him over to look at his ass cheek, but he grabbed onto my wrists to keep me from doing it. "Let me see it," I begged.

"No."

"Come on."

He shook his head, sternly.

"Why not?"

"It's the first tattoo I ever got," he admitted.

I smirked at him, reveling in the fact that he was still holding my wrists. "It can't be that bad." When he didn't say anything in response, I got a little scared. "Seriously. What is it? As long as it isn't a tribal tattoo, it can't be that horrible."

Sacha looked at me for what felt like a long time. "It's of my dog."

I blinked at him. "Shut up."

"It is," he snorted the answer out, smiling too wide for me to take him seriously.

I tried pulling my hands out of his hold, but I couldn't. "You're a damn liar.”

He pulled me to him, kissing my throat softly. "Okay, I guess you can see," he murmured against me. A moment later, he was flipping over onto his hands and knees, and I was pulling down his shorts and boxer briefs to one side.

There was nothing there.

I pulled down the other side, and there was nothing there either.

"Liar!" I laughed at the same time I slapped the lower half of his butt cheek as hard as I could.

With a yelp, Sacha flipped over, wrapping an arm around my waist to pull me onto the bed beneath him. His long body stretched over mine until we were pelvis to pelvis. He shook his head. "Oh Gaby, Gaby. You want to play the spanking game?"