Kat

"Still haven't talked to him?" Trace is surprised.

"What am I supposed to say?" I shrug. Trace and I have barely had a conversation about...this. We just keep fight-flirting and touching each other.

"Tell him the truth. You spent the night in my bed and it was amazing. That should do it." Trace holds the phone out to me, his eyebrows raised in challenge.

Trace thought sleeping together was amazing? I frown at my phone to keep the grin off my face. At my scowl, Trace hands over my device. I send the call to voicemail and shoot off a quick test to Colin.

I know you are worried about me. I'm fine. Trace got me a room at the Four Seasons last night. I'm still here. I need a little time. Please respect that.

He replies immediately.

I'm sorry that I lost my temper. I would never hurt you. I love you.

Me: I know.

I hesitate, biting my lip. Yesterday, I told him I loved him effortlessly, probably several times during our day together. I do love him—he's been my person for over a year— I'm just not sure I've ever been in love with him. Still, it's cruel to leave him hanging.

I love you, too.

Trace is standing right beside me during the exchange, but he doesn't comment. When I slide my phone in my pocket, he clears his throat and moves me away from the bed. "Well, one good thing. Your love declaration to Colin..." he rolls his eyes, "has helped me decide."

"Decide?" I say, a little panicked. Is he going to send me home, because I didn't break up with Colin on the spot?

"On how to show you a good time. It's not gonna be in bed. I'm not getting between true love," he is snarky, teasing, like fourteen year old Trace.

"People say I love you all the time, in all sorts of ways." I say defensively. "You don't have anybody in your life that you love, even though you aren't in love with them?" I'm thinking of Mac. She's obviously protective of him. They must be close.

Trace looks mildly alarmed, but then his face softens slightly. He shrugs, the rock star face descending. "Maybe."

"Well, maybe I care about Colin like that."

He nods. "Well, whatever you feel for him, he thinks you are in love, and you know it. You already told me you feel guilty. So you and me...not happening while you are with him. A cheat lay is not how I want you, babe."

Did Trace just say he wants me? I swallow, trying desperately to come up with a response that doesn't include throwing myself into his arms. "A cheat lay?" I say. "You have such a way with words, Rock Star."

"I do write songs for a living. I know how to say what needs to be said, legit-like."

"Hmmm. A cheat lay sounds like the opposite of legit."

He throws an arm over my shoulder. "I'll give you that one, KitKat. A Skin cuddle is legit. Cheat lays are illegit, which is why me and you are a no-go."

Wait, did Trace now say he doesn't want me? I'm so confused.

We make a quick stop back in his suite. Mac, Leed, and Bodie are still hanging out there. The guys greet me warmly. Mac smiles but her eyes flit to Trace and tighten a little. There's no time for talking, Trace only stops for a hat and sunglasses. He turns to me, flipping down his designer shades. "Riley get you any incognito shit?" I shake my head.

"Maaaac," he turns to her and bats his eyes. Mackenna stares back at him with cool green eyes. They have some kind of secret exchange.

She rises, cat-like. "Come on," she says to me. The upbeat tone sounds forced.

Her suite is across the hall. It's not nearly as neat as Trace's. Evidence of partying litters the sitting area. As she leads me into the bedroom, I can't help but notice there are a guy's pair of boots and T-shirt on the floor, but there's clearly no one here now. She stops for a beat, looking at the boots like maybe she didn't want me to see them, then notices me noticing.

"Soundcrush has fanboys, too" she shrugs, as she picks over some things on the dresser.

"Sure," I murmur. I doubt a fanboy walked out of the hotel barefoot this morning.

She hands me a pair of plain-looking sunglasses and a couple of hats to try. One is a baseball cap, the other a straw fedora. "I like that one," she says, of the second hat. "Looks better with those—" she gestures at my baggy jeans shorts. "Do you uhmmm, need a belt?" she asks.

"I'm okay, thanks."

In fact, I do, but I feel weird, borrowing stuff from MacKenna. Turning over the sunglasses in my hand, I realize they are high end, despite how plain they look. Any belt she owns is probably a thousand dollar Gucci. Not exactly the right pairing for Target shorts.

"No really. If you have to move quick because of paps, those shorts will fall off. That's not the photo-op you want to give. I'd let you borrow a pair, but..." She looks me up and down a little critically. When I give her back a challenging stare, her eyes go wide. She blinks. Before she can open her mouth to backtrack from what she is obviously thinking.

"No way would they fit," I say evenly, "but thanks for the offer."

She rolls her eyes and sighs heavily. "Let's not, okay? Do this? I don't go in for the catty thing with the guy's girls. Especially Trace's."

We hear a key card access the suite door, and then someone easing the door slowly closed. Adam rounds the corner, his undercut blonde hair swinging as he stops abruptly. He has a big goofy grin on his face, which slides away as he takes me in. He wasn't in Trace's suite earlier; he definitely isn't expecting to see me here. His eyes go immediately to the pair of boots at the bottom of Mac's bed, and then back at me.

"Hey," he says awkwardly.

"Hey," I say keeping my eyes on his face, refusing to glance down at his bare feet. I turn to MacKenna. She's glaring at me.

"Thanks. I'll make sure you get these back tonight," I say, holding out the sunglasses and hat.

"Keep them," she says coolly. "Keep your mouth shut, too, okay?"

"Mac," Adam says gently. He looks at me apologetically. "She's nicer than this, I swear. She's just triggered because of...well...we're...new. Or a reboot." He looks at Mac, who's glaring at him now. "Or maybe it was a mistake," he grins at her. "She hasn't told me yet. I don't know what the hell."

"I know the feeling," I mumble. Adam laughs.

Mac is reddening under Adam's steady smile, but she turns to me with another cool green gaze. "I'm sure Riley had you sign the standard NDA? It covers all the band members, you know."

"Actually, no one asked me to sign anything. Trace knows I would never betray his trust. But if you need me to sign one, I will."

"Will what?" Trace says coming up behind Adam. Adam nearly jumps out of his skin. Mac has the opposite reaction—she freezes. Her eyes go round.

Nobody says anything. Trace glances at all three of us, catching the weirdness.

"Shouldn't leave the door open," he says to no one in particular as he slides past Adam into the room and tweaks the hat on my head. "Cute," he winks at me but he keeps going into the bathroom. He's rifling through Mac's makeup. He pokes his head around the door and beckons Mac with a make up brush. He dabs it on his bruise. "A little help?"

She shakes her head. "You need professional help." He shoots her a bird and goes back to clacking around her cosmetics. "Will what?" he calls out again.

"Uhhhh," I look at Mac and Adam. Both look resigned. "Will borrow a belt." Silently I shove Adam's boots and t-shirt under the bed. Mac looks surprised. Adam tips his chin at me.

Trace and I flirt-fight as I dab concealer on his face. Five minutes later, Traces declares my makeup artistry a disaster and washes his face, relying on the sunglasses and the hat. At least Mac has found me a plain-looking belt, and we are ready to roll. As we head down the hall, Trace hooks his arm around my neck and pulls me close, murmuring in my ear.

"Traitor. Already conspiring with my bandmates to hide their friends with benefits status from me."

I push him away. "You knew?"

He snorts. "I knew the minute I saw their faces this morning. They did this last tour, too." He looks troubled.

"Oh. You disapprove?"

"Not my place to judge," he says breezily, adjusting to the rock star face.

I stare at him. "I'm not interviewing you, you know. How about you answer for real?"

He crosses his arms and meets my gaze. He grins. "This is what I love about you, Kat. You know me. We're together again less than a day and already you are calling me out on fake bullshit. You're right. I think Mac and Adam having casual sex is a bad thing."

I laugh out right at that. "I'm sorry Trace, but I'm going to call bullshit again. You really expect me to believe you don't have casual sex?"

We're in the elevator now, alone. He stabs a button and avoids my gaze. "I never said I don't have casual sex. But if I'm having casual sex with someone, it's a very short-term arrangement, and the girl knows that from the get-go. I don't screw friends and pretend it doesn't mean anything. Especially not over and over again."

"So what about us?" I muster the courage to say. His gaze swings to mine quickly.

His looks heats up. He leans against the elevator wall. "What about us, Kat?"

"We've been friends our whole lives."

He raises his eyebrows. "Your point?"

No guts, no glory, I tell myself.

"Do you want to have sex with me or not?" I blurt.

He grins. "I can't believe you even have to ask that. Yes, Katheryn, I want to have sex with you. I can't think of anyone else I want to have sex with but you, right now. You still failed to clarify your question, here."

"Well, would we not then be friends, who are having sex?" I ask pointedly. "Or are you looking for a very short-term arrangement with me?"

Trace presses the hold button, but he doesn't move towards me. He looks thoughtful as he considers his words. Finally he gives me a very direct look. "The way I've always felt about you is different than the way I have ever felt about any other girl. Honestly, I can't tell what might happen if we start having sex. You're right. My lifestyle is...complicated. And I'm sure you have your own plans. So really...it's up to you, isn't it? You have to decide if you're into giving this a try. As for me," he grins adorably and flips his hair, "I've been waiting a long damn time for you to turn eighteen and finish high school. Now that you're here, and we're doing this thing we do all over again, it feels..." his voice lowers, "good. You feel...fucking good, to me. So in answer to your question...I don't want to be friends with benefits, and I don't want a short-term arrangement with you. When it comes to me and you, I'm in it to win it, Katheryn."

The elevator is mirrored, and I watch myself flush from my chest up as he speaks these words, his gaze never leaving mine.

"You look terrified," his lips press thin. "Not what you wanted to hear?"

Exactly what I wanted to hear, but it still terrifies me. Life is so unpredictable. I know this from Ashlynn. To say Trace's lifestyle is complicated is a joke. He's maybe not the biggest celebrity on social media and TV, but that's only because he doesn't self-promote. He's still wealthy, sexy, mysterious and so talented. Every where he goes, he creates a stir. People write fan-fiction about him. It's ridiculous, how many girls I hear talk about him like he's a...thing they'd like to put on. It's bad enough to worry about my issues. Could I stomach sharing Trace with the world?

I look at my reflections. I can see myself over and over in the elevator mirrors. All these mirrored fractals of me feel like different people warring inside me. One image is the free-spirited kid I used to be, who says she'll take the boy and let the world have the rock star. One image is the dutiful daughter I am now, who think there is no room for Trace in her life. One is the girl in the dark last night that desired all of Trace, and doesn't want to share him with anyone. One is the girl who likes Colin—likes his predictability, likes his steadiness, likes that he doesn't move her to feel, because he can't move her to hurt. Which one is the real me? Which one has the truest answer to Trace's question?

"Kat?" Trace asks.

"It's what I want to hear," I whisper, "but I'm more scared to be with you than I was at fifteen."

A gorgeous, dark look spreads across his face. He breathes in very slowly as his eyes travel me. "Don't be scared. I'll rock your world, babe. In every way. My shit is ridiculous."

I find myself clutching the rail behind me in an effort to keep my knees from buckling. Did I say I don't like the rock star face? I changed my mind. When the rock star looks at me like he wants to ravish me in this elevator, I like his face very much. I'm positive I would like the rest of the rock star pressing me to wall and showing me just how ridiculous his shit is.

He doesn't make a move toward me, though. He just watches me like I'm a bunny and he's a wolf. He pushes the button to restart the elevator and continues to stare. As the doors open, Riley is standing on the other side, looking distinctly less happy than he did last night. Trace's intense stare breaks. He acknowledges Riley as we exchange places with him.

"Miss Ballard," Riley says politely. He gives Trace a sober nod and simply says, "Done."

"Thank you, Riley. We'll be going directly to the venue. Please tell Tamara, so she brings my clothes over."

"You bet," Riley says crisply, and walks into the elevator.

I stare after him, puzzled. "He seems...different, than last night."

Trace shrugs. "Some parts of his job are less enjoyable than others. Like mine," he says, motioning to the door. I can see photographers camped across the street. He goes to the concierge, and they discuss bringing the car around. Trace obviously doesn't want to wait by the valet stand. After a few minutes waiting in the bar, the concierge takes us down to the delivery entrance ramp, where the car has been brought.

I laugh out right. "This is our ride?" The car is fluorescent green and all angles. "Didn't you want to keep a low-profile? You think a Lamborghini is the way to do that?"

He opens the door for me. "Well, I am sort of...young, dumb, and rich. My shallow need to impress you with some outrageous fun won out over my mature desire to keep a low profile. Anyway, we'll be driving too fast for the paparazzi to keep up."

Wow, so Trace and Kat are intense, huh? Will Kat break up with Colin? What do you think of Trace's Rock Star face vs the Boy Next Door side? Which do you like better? Do you think he intentionally switches his vibe or does he just struggle with his public vs private personas?

Where are they going in the Lambo? What happens next? Hee-hee, you'll find out soon enough!