"I will, and thank you," I responded, following him out the door and to our designated bus. I climbed the three steps onto the bus and came face to face with Linc.

"I was just coming to check on you," he said, placing his hand on my shoulder, the warmth of it sent tingles down my spine, straight to my core. The bus hadn’t even pulled away from the house yet and I was horny already. It was a good thing I packed B.O.B and a fresh pack of batteries. I had a feeling that my Battery Operated Boyfriend and I were going to be spending many a nights together. "What did he want?" He tilted his chin in the direction of the house. "Everything okay?" he asked with the look of concern on his handsome face.

"Yeah. Everything's great," I said, lifting the stack of papers in my hand. "He just wanted to give me a list of addiction/recovery meetings that are located along the route. He said that you should let me know if you wish to stop along the way. The buses can stop anytime you need them to," I explained, handing over his copy of the meetings. His fingers brushed against mine, causing my knees to become weak, and I had to place my hands against the small dining table to keep from hitting the floor.

"I should probably put my bags away," I said, placing my hand on the handle of my zebra print rolling Samsonite, desperately needing to put some distance between us. He stepped aside as I dragged my suitcase past him and headed toward the bunk area.

"I left the bedroom for you. You need more room than I do, and there's a closet in there where you can hang your clothes." I didn’t even try to argue. What was the point? I wouldn’t win anyway, so I rolled my suitcase past the bunk space and into the bedroom at the end of the bus.

Yawning from lack of sleep the night before, I stretched out on top of the comforter and closed my eyes. Five minutes was all I needed. I remembered the purr of the motor and the sway of the bus as we pulled out onto the road, but I couldn’t remember anything after that, so imagine my surprise when I woke up five hours later. I bolted straight up and out of bed. Standing in the middle of the small bedroom, all I could do for a moment was stare. The bus, it was all starting to come back to me now. I hated having those moments. I had traveled to different places over the past couple of years woken up in a panic. Then it dawned on me that I was in my hotel room. I hated that feeling. It was very disorienting.

I finger-combed my hair in hopes of taming a case of bed head before going in search of Linc. I found him sitting on one of the bench style seats of the breakfast nook, writing in a spiral bound notebook. I took a moment to soak him all in. The strain of his muscles beneath his fitted t-shirt, the spicy scent of his cologne, and from behind, his hair looked tousled, like he'd run his fingers through it repeatedly; probably while writing their next big hit. I didn't realize that Linc wrote the majority of the band's songs. I guess I just assumed Levi wrote them, being that he was the lead singer. Jinx told me soon after Linc went into rehab that since he had started using drugs heavily, he hadn't written much of anything. This is probably a good thing. His writing would keep his mind occupied, off of drugs, and at the same time motivate him. Yes, this could be a very good thing.

"How could you let me sleep for five hours?" I asked as I stepped around him and slid into the space across from him. He tilted his head up from his paper and his light brown eyes met mine. This was the first time since he had been back that I had really gotten a good look into his eyes. They looked clear, unlike the dull, drugged-out look. The little gold flecks throughout sparkled under the overhead fluorescent light.

"I came back to check on you and you looked so peaceful, so I just closed the door and came back up front. It's no big deal. Really, I swear to you that I'm not going to do anything. I've been working on a song that's been in the back of my mind. Now that the drug fog has lifted, I can actually stop long enough to get it down on paper," he said, closing the notebook.

"That's great. I didn't realize you wrote most of the band's songs until Jinx told me. You've got some crazy talent," I told him. He looked away and shifted in his seat. Sensing that he was uncomfortable talking about his writing, I dropped the subject. "I'm sorry if you thought I was implying that you were going to do something that you shouldn't. That's not what I meant at all," I explained.

He turned to meet my gaze and something in his eyes had changed. Was that anger that I was seeing?

"I know. I just feel like everyone's watching every little thing that I do. They're probably all thinking that I'm going to go off the deep end at any moment, or maybe they're all looking at my eyes to see if I'm high. I can honestly say that I don't plan on using, so all of you guys need to go on with your lives and stop worrying about me.” His voice escalated at the end, and it made me wonder what had just happened.

Did I do something that set him off? I needed to do something quickly to smooth things out

"I don't know about you, but I'm starving," I said as I walked over to the full size fridge and opened the door to examine the contents. I usually ate at least some cereal or toast for breakfast, and being that we left so early, none of us had a chance to eat. Pulling out a pack of sliced turkey and some Swiss cheese, I looked over my shoulder and asked, "Why don't I fix us a sandwich?" I grabbed a couple of paper plates and napkins from the cabinet, not waiting for his answer. Thank God Court had someone stock the buses for us or we would be shit out of luck. All I brought with me was a pack of gum and a tin of mints.

"Thanks," he said as I slid the plate in front of him.

"Sure. How much longer until we reach Seattle?" I asked him. I didn’t really care, I was just trying to make conversation, and because I couldn't think of anything else, I grasped on to the first thing that came to mind.

"It will probably be on into the early morning hours, by the time we stop for gas several times, and if Chance ran out of Skittles, well, you know that would be a Code Red right there," he said with a chuckle. Good. His mood had changed and there was no longer the fire of anger behind his eyes that was there earlier.

"So, what do you want to do now?" I asked him as I took the empty plate from in front of him and toss it in the trash. When he didn’t speak, I turned from the where I'd walked to the trash can, and met his molten gaze; a gaze that automatically made me squeeze my thighs together.

"Who's staring now?" I teased, giving him my best sexy grin. Standing from the small table he closed the distance between us in two short strides. He was standing so close that I could practically feel his erection pressing against my stomach, and it suddenly became harder to breathe.

"I could look at you for hours on end, beautiful." Hearing him call me beautiful caused my stomach to flutter like thousands of butterflies fluttering about. Golden eyes stared down at me; eyes dancing with mischief. "What do you say to a friendly game of cards?" He asked, cupping my cheek in his big hand. I couldn’t help it. My body reacted on its own accord and leaned into the warmth.

"Okay," I breathed. There was enough sexual electricity between us that you could have lit all of New York with it. He reached into a small drawer beneath the sink and pulled out a pack of playing cards. I followed him over to the small nook and sank into the seat.

"What do you say to a friendly game of Strip Twenty-One?" He asked, quirking a dark brown brow at me. My mind raced as my good and bad conscience fought with one another. I knew where this was headed and I wanted him so bad. My power of resistance was incredibly low as I looked into his warm gaze. I couldn’t seem to get the word, “No” to move past my lips, so I nodded in agreement.