Disclaimer: I still don't own Big Time Rush. Sorry? Yeah, me too.

Guest#1: For what it's worth, I enjoy being cussed out. It makes me feel like I'm doing my job. Anyway, I'm updating! Thank you for reviewing! Hope you enjoy it ;)

Guest#2: One of them always has to ruin the moment, right? Thank you for taking the time to review!

Guest#3: I hope you don't mean literally! Thank you for reviewing! :D

debjohns24: Thank you! And thank you for reviewing :)

Guest#4: I'm so sorry! I know it's six months late, but consider this a late birthday gift, if you're still interested in this story. And thank you for reviewing! :)

btrlover: Actually, it's been longer than three months now. Thank you for reviewing! :)

And of course, thank you to everyone else who reviewed, favorited, or just simply has read this story!

A/N: I know it's been a really long time since I updated. About eight months, in fact. And I'm sorry. I just updated "Raise The Curtain" and I went into details in that A/N, but I'll just keep my explanation brief for this one. I've been super busy with working two jobs, taking classes, and personal stuff going on. And I'm hoping to update more frequently, but I can't promise that that's going to happen. I'll do my best though :)

Warnings: Strong language, and teenagers fooling around. I'd probably rate this chapter a light M, but we'll just pretend it's a strong T, okay? ;)

Enjoy the chapter! And please review :)

Chapter Thirteen – Complicated

Katie's POV

When I climbed out of bed the next morning, my entire body felt shaky. I wasn't sure if it was from an extremely brutal hockey practice, spending an entire evening fooling around with James, or a combination of the two. All I knew was that I wanted more than anything to crawl back into bed and bury myself under my covers.

But that wasn't going to happen.

I had things to do, hockey practice to conquer, people to face. And that included James. I could still feel the echo of his mouth on mine, his hands brushing over my body, the press of his chest against mine. Reenactments of the evening before had slipped in and out of my dreams. And I knew that the second James looked at me, he would be able to see it all over my face.

I stuffed my feet into my slippers, hunched into my bathrobe, and shuffled out of my bedroom into the bathroom – where James was brushing his teeth. Kendall was in the shower, hollering over the roar of the water to James about hockey.

James looked at me as I walked in. He pulled his toothbrush out of his mouth, spat, and rinsed. "Haven't you ever heard that two's company and three's a crowd?"

"Oh, did I walk in on you and Kendork having a moment?" I smirked at him. "Just about to join him in the shower?"

James reached out and in one deft move had my bathrobe untied and off my shoulders. "I think we both know who I'd rather join in the shower," he murmured to me, lips brushing over my ear. I fought back a gasp as a shudder wound its way through my body.

"Don't be stupid," Kendall called. "James is hardly my type."

"Yeah, I'm not thin and blonde," James snickered as he played with my hair, catching my lips with his. "I'm also not a girl," he added as he pulled back. I couldn't argue with that. I knew firsthand that he wasn't female in any way, shape, or form.

I didn't bother responding, though. Instead, I slicked some toothpaste onto my toothbrush and began to brush my teeth. James let his hands glide over my waist, under my shirt and up my back. I leaned back against him before I even realized what I was doing, letting out a little sigh around my toothbrush. It was definitely a good thing that the shower curtain wasn't see-through, otherwise James and I would have been in huge trouble.

I finished brushing my teeth, and rinsed out my mouth, before scooping my bathrobe up and saluting James. "Catch ya on the flip side, loser." I scooted out of the bathroom before he could grab me, but instead he followed me out into the hall.

"Want to share a shower?" he asked.

Yes. I snorted derisively. "Let's not get fancy. We're only making out so that we don't kill each other. I never agreed to anything involving showers."

"We could take a bath."

"You're awfully hopeful."

"A guy's got to have his dreams."

"And you dream about taking a bath with me?"

His cheeks flushed a bright red. "Don't be stupid."

"Then don't say stupid things!"

He glared at me and I glared back, before turning around and stomping into my bedroom, slamming the door in his face. I stormed around my room, pulling out jeans and a sweater, tugging on my clothes and glaring as I put on my makeup. I wasn't sure if I was mad at him for making shower and bath comments, or if I was mad at him for saying that he didn't dream about taking a bath with me.

Both suggestions sounded so stupid. But I had a nagging feeling that it was the latter that was the right one.

I was so wound up from that stupid little comment that I completely forgot to shower, though it didn't really matter. I would be showering that afternoon after hockey practice, anyway. I could go a morning without showering.

Nevertheless, I put my hair up in a ponytail and made sure I reeked of body mist. I headed downstairs and helped myself to the scrambled eggs and fruit Mom had set out for breakfast. I sipped on a mug of green tea between bites, ignoring the commotion of my parents getting ready for work.

James and Kendall joined me a little while later. I studiously ignored them. Instead I finished my eggs and peeled an orange. James quietly offered me the biggest strawberry of the bunch Mom had set out. I looked at him, before accepting the peace offering.

"Thanks."

"You're welcome."

School sucked, and hockey practice was long and exhausting. Coach Carter put us through our paces, and by the time it ended, I felt like I was about to drop. I finally got to shower, and once I had dried off I slipped into my regular clothes and followed my teammates out into the hall. The boys' hockey team was waiting for us. I blinked at the sight of seventeen odd teenage boys leaning up against the wall, as cool as you please. "Something I can do for you?"

"We've come up with a date for our second game," James told me, stepping forward so that we were nose to nose in theory. In reality we were my nose to his chest, but the thought was nice. "If you'll agree to it."

"What is it?" I asked warily.

"The Saturday after the talent show. So not this Saturday, but the next one."

I glanced at my team, all of whom nodded or made faces. No one bothered protesting, so I turned back to James. "Fine. We'll do it next Saturday. What's the bet this time around?"

James grinned. "How about whoever wins gets a huge steak dinner at Terra Cotta. Whoever loses has to buy it."

Once again, no one protested, so I nodded, holding out my hand to James. We shook on the bet, making it official, and then we headed our separate ways – which was the exact same way to the parking lot. Talk about poor planning.

Nevertheless I climbed into my car and drove home, making a mental note to submit my team's and my "talent" to the teachers who were in charge of the talent show the next day. And I also needed to organize rehearsals for our "talent" for the weekend. At least I knew James would be gone after Friday, so we could rehearse at my house without anyone making smartass comments. Dumbass comments, maybe, courtesy of my brother, but not smartass ones.

But I felt a twinge of sadness as I realized that I only had a few more days with James staying at my house. Which meant that I only had a few more days of us making out. And as much as I hated to admit it, I knew I would miss kissing him, touching him, hearing him moan in pleasure.

Just as the day before, Kendall wasn't home but James was. And just as the day before, he had food waiting for me. This time it was beef stew with turkey and cheese sandwiches.

"You know, just because you're staying here for a few days doesn't mean you have to play personal chef," I told him, even as I inhaled a mouthful of beef stew.

"And just because I'm playing personal chef doesn't mean you have to eat what I make," he retorted. "Hungry?"

"Starving," I admitted, tearing into my sandwich. "I skipped lunch to do some extra drills on the ice with Kristen and Camille."

"You didn't eat?" he demanded, sounding dismayed. "Katie, you need to eat. Hockey practice is brutal, we both know that. You need your strength. Am I going to have to start following you around, stuffing food in your mouth?"

I gaped at him as I swallowed a bite of sandwich. "Chill out, dude. It was one lunch. And I'm not a six foot two teenage boy who needs to eat every fifteen minutes. I can skip an occasional meal if I need to."

"Not if you're going to be going crazy with practice. I don't want you passing out in the middle of biology or something."

"What's the matter? Afraid that you might have to figure out the answers yourself?"

He glared at me. "You know, I do actually care about you. And I don't want you getting hurt in hockey practice. And you not eating is going to increase those chances by quite a bit. You can talk about girl power all you want, but the fact of the matter is that you're the smallest one on the team. You could be crushed. And I don't want that happening to you."

All I could think to say was, "I'll eat next time."

"You better. Otherwise I'm going to stalk you around with granola bars and force you to eat them."

I rolled my eyes and finished up my food. I helped him clean up the kitchen before turning to him. "You have any homework due tomorrow?"

"No. You?"

"I got it all done in study hall. My room?"

He nodded and followed me up to my bedroom. Once we were tucked away behind the door, I spun to face him. Before I could even breathe, his lips were crushed against mine, his hands cupping my face eagerly. I kissed him back, pushing him back towards my bed. He let out a startled grunt as his legs hit my bed and he fell back against the mattress. I landed on top of him. "My bad."

"Uh huh." He scowled up at me, but it didn't reach his eyes.

I smirked and leaned down, initiating the kiss this time. He returned the kiss, his hand going up to cup the back of my neck to deepen the kiss. I sighed, pushing closer. This shouldn't have been nearly as good as it was. For the first time since I had woken up I was completely relaxed and at peace. And that was just from kissing James. It shouldn't have been possible. After all, this was the boy who I had fought with for years. There was no way in hell that kissing him should have been relaxing. But this one wasn't driven by passion and anger and aggression and tension. Instead, this one felt sweet and pure, like maple syrup and brown sugar. Like the strawberry he had offered to me that morning.

At last I pulled back, pushing my hair out of my face. And just like the night before, I felt overwhelmed, unsure of what to do next. I was used to hormones going crazy when I was around James. I wasn't used to feeling so comfortable that I could lie down along his body and fall asleep.

James gently smoothed his hands over my back, running his hands up and down my spine. "You're thinking. You're not supposed to be thinking."

I shrugged. "Just tired." I mean, what the hell was I supposed to say? We're acting like a couple and it's freaking me the fuck out? Because that was exactly what was going on. Suddenly I felt like his girlfriend, and it felt like he was my boyfriend. And that wasn't going to work. I had to focus on hockey and school. I didn't have time to date. And I definitely couldn't date James. Not only was he my rival, but he was way too distracting for his own good. And way too tempting. I couldn't believe how tempting he was. It wasn't fair. He was everything I didn't want. And yet, he was everything I seemed to crave.

"You sure?" He stroked his fingers through my hair, making sure not to get them tangled up. I felt myself lean into his touch. His fingers trailed down my cheek, rubbing over my jaw. He stared up at me, hazel eyes wide and innocent, yet so intense that it made my breath catch in my throat. No one had never looked at me like that before – like they were falling in love. And the idea that James might be falling in love with me, even a little bit, was enough to make me want to run for the hills. But it also made me want to stay, want to suggest that we try a relationship, even though I knew perfectly well that it wouldn't end well for either of us. And besides, James couldn't be falling in love with me. He didn't like me. He might care about me, but that was just spillover from our old friendship, and from his friendship with my brother. But he didn't actually like me. I had made damn sure of that after our kiss three years ago.

"What're you thinking about?" James asked softly.

I ran a hand over my eyes. "Just – just thinking about the talent show."

"Don't tell the rest of the team that I said this, but you're going to be great."

I snorted. "We're going to suck rocks, but thanks for trying to stay upbeat."

"You can rehearse with me if you want."

"No thanks. You only get to experience the horror once, and that's at the talent show."

James grinned, flashing his teeth at me wolfishly. "I can't wait."

I pinched one of his nipples in retaliation. He yelped and yanked on my hair. Our eyes met, and the next thing I knew I was on my back, and we were kissing so ferociously that I could almost hear the bed squeaking in protest. His shirt was off in seconds, followed by mine. Our jeans came off, and then his hands were under me, unhooking my bra. And I didn't even try to stop him. I didn't want to. Who knew that aggression could be such a turn on?

His mouth found my right nipple, sucking and biting and making sure that I was gripping fistfuls of his hair, whining and whimpering under him. All too soon he switched to the other one, and I barely had a chance to recover my breath before I was falling to pieces under him once more. This was so, so, so, so bad and so, so, so, so wrong. But it felt so good and so right. My body just seemed to naturally respond to his. And besides, weren't teenagers supposed to mess around and explore new things?

And then his fingers creeped down below my bellybutton, and my brain shut itself off entirely.

It occurred to me later on that letting James give mouth to mouth resuscitation to my breasts, and letting him finger me in the process, was probably not the best way to prove to him that I was a badass hockey captain, or that I didn't have feelings for him, or that I didn't need him at all. My one saving grace through that afternoon was that sex never happened. In all honesty, it might have, except that my parents and brother came home at around the same time, and decided that they wanted to make individual homemade pizzas, which meant that James and I had to drag ourselves away from each other to go help out in the kitchen. Every now and then, as we reached around the other for the tomato sauce or bowl of shredded Mozzarella cheese, our eyes would lock and I knew we were both thinking about what had just occurred upstairs – his thumb gliding over my clitoris, my entrance tightening around his fingers as he finished me off, our hips moving together as he fell apart himself. It was going to be almost impossible to go back from that. I couldn't take back what had happened, and what had almost happened, and I didn't want to. But things had just taken a turn from pretty complicated, to so complicated it should have been a task in the Triwizard Tournament.

I had no idea what was going to happen once Friday came and went. And all I did know was that no matter how much James and I kept trying to go back to the way we were before Stephanie's birthday party, we would never be able to. Too much had happened between us since then.

By the time Saturday came around, it felt like James' body had been imprinted against mine. I knew every inch of his upper body, and he was familiar with quite a bit of mine. Sex never happened. Panties and boxers never came off. This had more to do with the fact that my family liked to interrupt us at the most inopportune times than that I had amazing self-control. Because when it came to James, I didn't have any. At all. Just being in the same room with him was enough to send electricity shooting through my body.

Saturday evening was painful. It was taco night, which meant everyone chipped in on preparing dinner. My dad browned the beef with my mom overseeing him, and Kendall, James, and I chopped vegetables. Just an hour ago James and I had been in my room, his mouth on my neck, his hand brushing down my leg before slipping beneath the waistband of my yoga pants and sliding down, down, down…

And now we were crammed way too close in the kitchen, trying to act as if everything was normal while every single time his arm brushed against mine, or my hip bumped his, was a jolt down memory lane. I had no idea how people managed to have friends with benefits relationships. I couldn't even hate James anymore. I was too busy thinking about the next time his shirt would be off, and when we'd finally have enough time for his boxers to come off. I hated to admit it, but there was a part of me – a very small part, just for the record – that wanted to prove that Devon had been absolutely nothing compared to me. I wanted to show that I was better than her at everything. And the worst part was, was that I wasn't sure if I was just simply competitive, or if I was jealous.

Either way, it wasn't a good feeling.

I dumped a load of freshly sliced olives into a bowl and tried to duck around James to set the container on the opposite counter, but just as I was moving, he stepped back to head for the opposite counter as well. Our hips bumped and I instinctively reached out, grabbing his shoulder to keep from falling. His hand cupped my waist, keeping me steady.

Act like everything's normal…act like everything's normal…

For a split second our gaze held and it was like we were back in my room, half naked, sprawled out on my bed, tangled in sheets. And then my dad cleared his throat and we jumped apart, setting our respective bowls on the counter and returning to our tasks.

Well, this was fun.

It was still bizarre to think that the first guy I was fooling around was James Diamond. The bane of my existence. The pain in my ass. The guy who singlehandedly drove me crazy just by breathing the same air as me. What the hell had happened?! How had we morphed from hating each other's guts to not being able to keep our hands off each other?

Teenage hormones. That was it. Damn hormones. They really screwed you up.

At last we sat down to dinner, the guys eating huge tacos dripping with beef and lettuce, while my mom and I both opted for taco salads topped with homemade guacamole. Per usual, James and I were sitting next to each other. It was extremely hard to focus on my food when his leg kept brushing against mine.

"So," James began as he set his half-eaten taco down and wiped his fingers on a napkin, "I got a text from my mom today. She'll be home tomorrow afternoon, so I guess tonight's my last night here."

I paused with my fork halfway to my mouth. "T-tonight?"

"Well, I'm glad she'll be back tomorrow," Mom said. "I'm sure you've missed her. But it's been so wonderful having you here. And if she ever leaves again for more than a day or two, you're more than welcome to stay here."

James smiled at her. "Thanks. It's been nice."

Yeah. It had been. And that was the problem. This little arrangement between us was only supposed to go until his stay at my house ended. And it was ending. Tomorrow. It was practically over. Which meant buh-bye making out. Au revoir fooling around. Adios half-naked James.

I was quiet through the rest of dinner, picking at my salad and trying to force myself to eat, even though I wasn't hungry. It was over. James' and my week-long fling was done. Whatever happened between us would never happen again. He would move onto another girl. I would eventually start dating someone.

And I didn't like that idea. I didn't like it at all.

Once the kitchen was cleaned up, I dragged myself up to my room and threw myself on my bed. Stupid hormones. Stupid attraction. Stupid chemistry. Stupid hot boys. Stupid temporary situations. Stupid teen angst.

I was so busy mentally listing all the ways this predicament was stupid that I almost didn't register the now-familiar knocking on my door. But there it was, a firm thud, thud, thud.

"Come in," I called, and James let himself into my room. I didn't say anything and neither did he. Instead he settled down on my bed, and I scooted over to make room for him.

There was silence for a long moment, and then he said, "So."

That was it. One word, one syllable, two letters. So.

"So, what?" I responded, staring up at my ceiling and trying to ignore the fact that his leg was wedged firmly against mine. I hated how aware of him I was.

"So, I'm leaving tomorrow."

"I heard you at dinner. I'm sure you're happy. You'll get to see your mom again."

"I guess. Assuming she ever takes a break from work, I mean. She's kind of a workaholic."

"I remember that from when we were younger." I finally rolled over to look at him, propping myself up on my elbow. He turned his head to peer back at me. "I suppose you're expecting something special for our last night together."

He flashed his familiar grin at me. "You have something in mind?"

I snorted. "No. I'm not sleeping with you."

"A guy can dream."

"Oh, I'm sure you do – a lot."

"Can't argue with that. It's kind of hot to get you all riled up on the hockey rink."

I grabbed one of my throw pillows and whacked him with it. "You pig."

He laughed, holding up a hand to fend it off. "Hey, easy there, that thing looks delicate."

I hit him with it again. He snatched it out of my hands and propped it under his head, smirking obnoxiously at me. I couldn't decide whether I wanted to kiss him or kill him. Maybe a little bit of both.

"You're an asshole."

"I know."

"Ugh." I plopped back against my pillows. "So, we're going back to normal tomorrow?"

"That's what the agreement was," he said tonelessly.

"Yeah. I mean, it's not like I want to date you or anything." As soon as the words slipped out of my mouth, I knew they were a lie. I did want to date him. I just didn't want to be another notch on his belt. His relationship status was pretty much a revolving door.

"Yeah, I know. You've told me that."

The problem was that I was already a notch on his belt. All this making out, all this messing around…it meant I was nothing more than another revolving girlfriend. Nothing more, nothing less. I had tried for less, but somehow I had developed feelings for him. And I couldn't take back anything I had done, or anything he had done to me. I couldn't take back him fingering me. I couldn't take back grinding against him. I couldn't take back letting him unhook my bra. And I didn't want to. But that meant I wasn't any better than any of his girlfriends. But I was choosing to be just another notch on his belt. This had just been fun for both of us. It wasn't like I hadn't gotten anything out of it.

"It was nice while it lasted, though," I finally said after another long silence.

"Yeah."

"You've got a killer body."

"I know. But thanks."

I rolled my eyes. "So modest."

"I do my best."

"So…" I licked my lips. "Are we going to spend tonight talking, or actually doing something."

To answer my question, he rolled over and pressed his lips to mine.