You have asked for more, so I decided against my better judgement to give you alot :) Sorry bout the wait, but would you rather have quality or quantity?
Carlos and I are sitting on my bed that night, discussing the past week's events.
I called Jo earlier to give her an update in my drama. She's happy that James and I have decided to be normal, even though my heart still aches dully when I think of him. Of his handsome face. Of his nice physique…
Carlos slapped me when I started rambling over the phone.
Right now he's telling me about a bet between Logan and Kendall. Apparently they have decided to bet on when I cave and kiss James. I narrow my eyes when Carlos mentions the amount of money involved; ever since the guys got famous, they use their earnings very gratuitously.
He's just walking around my room, talking about the odds of it happening in the next week, when he stops and yelps.
"Damn it!" he exclaims, jumping up. I hop off of the bed, alarmed.
He sucks in his breath through his teeth. "Why is there glass in your floor, Katie?" he asks.
I've almost forgotten about my little tantrum this afternoon.
The broken glass is still there, though how Carlos didn't notice it before is beyond me. The picture is lying by itself, having slipped completely out of the frame.
The sight of this makes me feel sad, for some odd reason. I pick up the photo and cradle it in my hands. I place it on the shelf above my bed and turn around to help Carlos, who is suddenly not there anymore.
I grumble to myself as I leave my bedroom. Carlos can never sit still, even when he's injured.
The only things I can make out are the silhouettes of the couch and coffee table. I take a few steps into the room, trying to be quiet; I'm still in disbelief that the guys are in bed.
"Carlos?" I call into the dark living room. It's ten o'clock, but the guys should still be awake. "Carlos?"
A hand touches my shoulder, leaving goosebumps.
I grab it and heave whatever it is over my shoulder.
"Ow, Katie!" I hear through the darkness, and recognize the voice as James.
I lean down. "I'm sorry!" I say as I try to help him up. I only succeed in pulling his hair, though, and he yelps.
"Sorry, again," I say apologetically. I can see his silhouette as he pulls himself from the floor.
"It's okay," he says, shrugging. "I would be freaked out, too." He pats my shoulder awkwardly, and I realize that he is shirtless.
"Yeah," I say. I look into his eyes, the only part of him that I can clearly make out. They are boring into mine, chocolate on chocolate. I feel dizzy, and don't even think about what I do next.
Caught up in the moment, our eyes locked, I throw my arms around his neck. He begins to speak when I crush my lips against his. I run my fingers through his hair- something I've always wanted to do.
He is tense at first, and then, to my shock, he puts his hands on my lower back.
The last time I kissed a boy was in the eighth grade, at the debut concert for Big Time Rush's second album. I didn't know him, and felt like a slut afterwards. But he was cute, and I was high on life.
But this, I think it actually means something. I have my eyes closed, and somehow I know his are, too. I wonder if he is enjoying this, if this is going to-
The light flicks on.
Holy crap, wotta cliff-hanger.