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therush: Thank you so much, I'm so happy you're enjoying it! And thank you for reading and reviewing, I really appreciate it :)

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Thank you to everyone who has taken the time to read, follow, favorite, and review this story! You guys rock!

A/N: Okay, so, this chapter is supposed to be more of a filler. Not a lot of important things happen in it, but you do get to find out a tiny bit more about James. He's a character who's becoming more and more complex as I write him, so please remember, if he doesn't always seem to make sense, it's because there's more to him than a pretty face and an obnoxious personality. You guys will get to see a little bit about that in this chapter :) I'm also dedicating this chapter to Dana2184 who's an amazing friend and is always willing to listen to me rant about whatever's wrong in my life, so thank you! If you guys haven't already, go and check out her stories and show them some love, okay? :)

Enjoy!

Chapter Four

Katie's POV

It was a relief to get home to my apartment. I let myself in and closed and locked the door behind me, before leaning back against it with a sigh. I dropped my purse on the floor and padded into my bedroom. I stripped out of my clothes and slipped into my over-sized pajama pants and a baggy t-shirt, before sinking down on my bed.

I had no idea what I had just gotten myself into. I really didn't. I didn't have the first clue about breaking up a wedding, and I was pretty sure James didn't either.

I reached for my phone and sent a text to James: "So, how exactly is this supposed to work? How are we going to break Camille and Steve up?"

He replied a couple of minutes later. "I was really hoping you'd have some suggestions…"

"Well, I don't."

"Damn it. Personally, I think if we can get Logan to admit that he wants Camille back and to decide to win her over, then it'll pretty much be taken care of."

"He'll be at the brunch on Sunday, right?"

"Yep."

"We'll start working on him then."

"Sounds like a plan."

I set my phone down and stretched out. Well, at least we had the beginnings of a plan. That was definitely better than nothing. I drifted off soon after, curled up on the bed and dreaming of Logan and Camille getting married.

Early Saturday morning was quiet as usual. I was able to sleep in and enjoy the cozy warmth of my bed. However, I was fully awoken around ten by noise from the living room. Frowning, I pushed my covers back and got out of bed, making my way out there.

"Fucking hell!" I screamed when I saw James sitting on the couch, a plate of eggs, bacon, pancakes, and sausage balanced in his lap as he watched TV. "What the fuck are you doing here, you fucking prick?!"

James took a long sip from a cup of coffee – using my cup – before flashing me a smile. "My apartment sucks rocks, so I figured you wouldn't mind if I dropped by. You just wake up?"

"Yes! Because it's fucking Saturday morning and I don't ever have people over on Saturday morning! Now get the fuck out of my apartment! How the fuck did you get in, anyway?!"

"Mrs. Fields," he responded. "She leant me a key."

"I'm going to fucking kill her," I mumbled, ripping my fingers through my tangled hair.

"Language, Katie," James said pristinely. "Whatever would your mother say if she heard you cussing like that?"

"Considering the situation, I think she'd understand," I breathed out. "Now. Get. The. Fucking hell. Out. Of. My. Apartment before I fucking murder you!"

"No."

"What the fuck do you mean no?!"

"I mean, no. I'm not going. I'm perfectly comfortable here. I have my sports," he nodded to the TV, "I have my coffee," he indicated his cup, which was resting on the coffee table, "and I have my food." He lifted his plate. "I'm not moving." And to prove his point, he switched his position, swinging his legs up on the couch so that he was reclining against the couch's arm, ankles crossed and plate resting on his stomach.

"Don't you have girls to fuck or something?"

"Nah. I'd rather eat."

"Okay, tell me the truth." I rubbed my hands over my face tiredly. "Are you impotent or something?"

He stared at me. "No, I'm not fucking impotent. I will have you know that I can get it up just fine."

"So why are you over here rather than screwing your normal sluts?!"

"First of all, they're not sluts. And second, I left them all in Minneapolis."

"Are there no bars? Are there no street corners?"

James gave me a look before stuffing a sausage whole in his mouth.

"Oh! I get it! You've gone gay! That explains so much."

"What the fuck are you going on about?" he demanded through his mouthful of sausage. "I'm not gay. I like pussy, not dick."

"Somehow, I'm not sure you'd care, as long as you got laid. Whatever. I'm going to go take a shower and by the time I get out, I want you gone."

"Uh huh."

I stomped into the bathroom adjoined to my bedroom and went through my normal routine, doing my business, brushing my teeth, and showering, before drying off and heading back into my bedroom. I threw on jeans and a t-shirt and walked back out into the living room.

James was still there.

"Okay, that's it. I don't call if we're teaming up on this. I'm calling the police."

"You do that. I'm friends with the chief of police, remember?"

"I really fucking hate you."

He just smiled sweetly at me. "There's more food. It's in the oven to keep it warm."

I scowled but headed in there anyway. I poured myself a cup of coffee and fixed it just the way I liked it before getting the rest of the food out of the oven. I made myself a plate and carried that and the cup into my living room. I sat down beside him and raised an eyebrow. Of course he would be watching hockey on a Saturday morning. Of course.

He scooted over to make room for me and I settled in, before taking a bite of my sausage. Sausage isn't my favorite breakfast food by any means, but he had done something to it because it was incredible.

"Did you sprinkle crack over this?"

James glanced at me. "What? No."

"Oh."

"Why?"

"No reason…" I took another bite.

"You like it?"

"No…"

His face split in a grin. "Liar. You do. You've already admitted that you like my cooking."

"No, I admitted that I like your spaghetti."

"And my balls."

"Your meatballs. There's a fine line between liking one dish and liking your cooking."

"But you do. You like my cooking."

"Just shut up and watch the damn game."

James shook his head and instead reached for the remote, switching the channel to Saturday morning cartoons. I smiled a little. When I had been younger I had spent my Saturday mornings watching all the different cartoons I could get my hands on. My favorites had been Tom and Jerry and Scooby-Doo, and sometimes James would come over and watch them with me. Those mornings were the only times we were ever able to get along, but they were nice. Mom would fix us huge breakfasts along with gigantic mugs of hot chocolate and we'd sit on the floor in front of the TV, gulping down our food, eyes glued to the TV.

So watching cartoons with him now was a bit of a throwback to those days in elementary and middle school when for two or three hours we were the best of friends. It would always end when the final cartoon would finish, but for those few hours it was a nice change. And it was a reminder that not everything about him was obnoxious and horrible and annoying and irritating; that he had good points to him, that he had decent sides, that he wasn't actually as bad as I sometimes made him out to be. I mean, he was pretty close to being as bad as I always say he is, but not quite as awful.

I stabbed the fried egg yolks and yellow goo oozed out. I grinned a little. Apparently we liked our eggs the same way – over easy. I swept a sausage through the yolk and stuffed it in my mouth before starting on my bacon. Nice and crispy and perfect.

Damn it. He would make a great personal chef. Why did he have to be such an ass most of the time?

"When's your audition for that Shakespeare play?" I asked him. "Much Ado About Nothing?"

James swallowed a large gulp of coffee before answering. "It's Monday morning."

"Ah. If you don't get it, are you moving?"

"No. I'm staying here whether I get it or not."

"Here? You're not staying in my apartment."

He rolled his eyes. "I meant here as in the town. Although your place is much nicer than mine. I've been living off of a stage actor's salary and we don't make very much."

"I thought you did some modeling work."

"A little but not a lot."

"You should get back into it, make a little extra money. And with the way you cook, you could probably get hired as a cook or something at a restaurant."

"Um…thanks?"

I nodded. "So, yeah. Think about it."

"Will do. So. What's up with your ex boyfriend?"

"Preston? Pretty much exactly what you saw on Thursday," I replied. "Why?"

"Just wondering. He was even more self-absorbed than me."

I snorted. "You have no idea. He was like that in bed, too."

James didn't say anything to that. Instead, he set his fork down and stared at the TV screen.

"Seriously, I'm so happy to be rid of him. He was just a bad boyfriend all around."

"How was he bad in bed?"

I frowned. "Like I said, he was selfish. He was only concerned in getting off. Foreplay was pretty much nonexistent. It was kind of gross. I barely slept with him, which is probably one of the reasons why he cheated on me."

"Ah."

"Yeah. It seriously sucked."

"I'm sure."

"I mean, I never thought I'd say this, but I'd take you over him any day."

"Good to know."

"Not really…Those words left a really bad taste in my mouth. I think I need to go rinse my mouth out."

He cracked a small smile but didn't make a snappy retort. I furrowed my brow, leaning over and peering curiously at him. James had a really strange look on his face, and I couldn't quite read it, but I knew for a fact that I had never seen it before.

I poked at his cheek to see if his expression would change, and he gave me a weird look. Success!

"What the hell are you doing?" he demanded.

"You looked weird," I shrugged. "I mean, weirder than normal."

"Gee, thanks so much."

I grinned. "Anytime." I finished off my bacon and my eggs and started in on my pancakes. "So, are you spending the entire day eating my food and sitting in front of my TV or do you have actual plans?"

"No plans at the moment." He stretched out, shifting his legs and draping them over my lap. I shoved them back to the floor. He placed them in my lap again, resting his foot against my stomach.

"Get your fucking feet off of me!"

"Make me!"

I tried to push his feet away from me but this time he was putting his strength into it. I couldn't even get them to budge. He grinned, cackling. Apparently his good mood had been restored by tormenting me.

Just freaking great.

I scowled at him but he just continued to laugh. Yeah, his spirits had definitely been lifted.

I set my plate aside and grabbed his big toe through his sock, yanking it back.

"Fucking hell, Knight!" he yelped, letting his legs drop.

"Fucking hell, Diamond!" I retorted. "I don't want your feet in my lap or on any part of me!"

"Too fucking bad!"

I reached over, pinching his nipple through his t-shirt. Before he could even think about retaliating, I blocked my chest with my other arm and prayed that my bra was thick enough to keep him away from my nipples.

He batted my hand away and instead dragged me down to the floor, pinning me under him. I yelped, hitching a leg around his waist and pulling him down on top of me before flipping him under me. He glared up at me as I straddled him, holding his arms over his head. "Now. Are you going to be a good boy and behave?"

James barked.

I let go of his hands and patted his cheek. "Good boy."

The next thing I knew, I was on my back again and he was hovering over me, a blazing look on his face. Holy fuck…he was fucking hot…And wow, that was not something I should've been thinking when he was pinning me to my living room floor. But it wasn't my fault! His hair was falling into his eyes, and his eyes were dark and smoldering and hot like a fire. His lashes were sooty, dramatically lining his eyes, and I couldn't help it if I gasped a little or if my breath caught just the tiniest bit in my throat. It wasn't my fault!

"Do I look like a dog to you?" he demanded, resting his hips against mine and my eyes widened. Well, shit. This wasn't supposed to be happening.

I managed to shake my head, my hair static against the carpet.

"Good." He stood up before reaching down and holding out his hand to me. I hesitantly took it, before yanking him back down. I may or may not have pulled him back down on top of me. In my defense, I didn't have any control over which direction he fell.

He stared at me. "Really?"

"It backfired a little."

"So I see."

"Well. This is fun."

"Yeah. Hey, you ever thought about having a fuck buddy?"

"Are you propositioning me?"

"Maybe. Since I'm such a huge man whore."

"Okay, get off of me." I shoved him away and got to my feet. "You're disgusting."

"It was just a question."

"I am not sleeping with you!"

"Oh, sure, you'll sleep with your dumbass ex but you won't sleep with me."

"I didn't realize he was such a dumbass when I dated him. And it only happened, like, four times. Which was four times too many," I added, shuddering. "Anyway, I'm not sleeping with you. And I seriously doubt you want to sleep with me. We hate each other, remember?"

"Right. Of course. How could I forget?" He grabbed our now empty plates and headed into the kitchen.

I followed him in. "Is something going on?"

"Nothing. Whatever. It's been awhile since I got laid, I'm just horny. I'm not thinking straight."

"Yeah, that would happen to you." I leaned against the wall, watching as he loaded the dishwasher up.

"Forget I ever asked."

"Already forgotten." My eyes slid down to his ass. Okay, his jeans were way too tight. Why couldn't he just wear sweats? He was leaving absolutely nothing up to the imagination.

"Good." The next thing I knew, he was washing the dishes and cleaning up the kitchen. Huh. I wondered how he'd feel about getting a job as a maid. He would certainly keep some wealthy housewife happy. Hell, he would even make me happy if he kept my apartment nice and clean. I wouldn't mind paying him for that, although I wasn't entirely sure I could afford it. But I was willing to give it a try. I could barely feed myself, much less make sure my apartment was dust free.

Once he was finished, James dried his hands on a dishtowel and turned to me. "So, what are your plans for today?"

"Ummm…nothing."

"If you let me stay I'll make you lunch and dinner."

"Will you clean my apartment for me?"

"Will you pay me?"

"Ten dollars a room?"

"Deal." We shook on it and he got started.

By the time evening rolled around, my apartment was practically sparkling with cleanliness. It was actually kind of amazing. And what was almost as amazing were the smells that were now seeping from the kitchen.

James had asked me what I wanted for dinner and I had suggested homemade pizza. I hadn't had that in years, but a quick look through my fridge and pantry revealed that I actually did have the ingredients. He had checked out a couple of recipes on his phone before getting to work on it.

"You would make a really good housewife," I informed him as I walked into the kitchen. I grabbed a beer out of the fridge and propped myself up on the counter, a little ways away from his workspace. "Or a good cook."

He flashed me a grin. "I aim to please."

I swung my legs, cracking the beer can open and taking a sip. "So, I owe you fifty dollars?"

"Yep."

"Oh, and I'll pay you for three meals as well."

"You don't have to do that." He propped the oven door open to check on the pizzas and nodded, before closing it again. "They're almost done."

"And you didn't have to cook for me all day. Granted, you let yourself into my apartment…Give me the spare key."

"No way in hell! Besides, what if you decide you want me to clean your apartment again while you're at work? I'd do it, you know."

"If I paid you?"

"Yeah."

I eyed him, putting the can up to my lips again and drinking. I set it on the counter and said, "You're pretty much broke, aren't you?"

He avoided my eyes as he pulled two plates down from the cabinet.

"James? Is that why you came back here? Because you're broke?"

He sighed. "I hit a run of bad luck in Minneapolis. I got in a fight with a prick director and word got out around the theater circuit. And I've never been able to keep any other job, so it wasn't like I could just get a job and make a whole bunch of money in time to pay my rent. I was working pretty steady up until then, but when I realized I wasn't going to be getting another job I figured it was about time to pack up and move back up here. And I still haven't found a job. I'm not just looking at theaters, Katie. I'm applying anywhere I can and it just isn't taking. I'm living in a dump of an apartment and I'm just plain fucking lonely."

I stared at him. "I honestly don't know what to tell you, James. I'm sorry, but I don't. But you can do odd jobs around here if you want, and I'll pay you for it, and you could probably get a job at your mom's place – "

"I am not working for Diamond Cosmetics," he said firmly. "I'd rather be living out on the streets than working there."

"I – well – okay…I'll keep a lookout for any job openings," I promised him. "And I'm sure the others will do the same. Hell, they might even have some suggestions. You should've told me," I added quietly. "I could've paid for dinner last night."

"I'm not a fucking charity case, Katie. I have money, just not a lot. I'm making do with what I have."

I sighed.

He opened the door again and nodded in satisfaction. "They're finished." He pulled them out and dished us each up a slice. We sat down at the dining room table, neither of us saying anything.

I couldn't help but turn his problem over in my head. "James?"

"Hmm?"

"I might have a solution for you…"

He eyed me warily. "What is it?"

"You know how my mom runs a catering business?"

"Yeah…"

"She might hire you. You're a good cook, and she's always saying she needs more of those around, she can't do it all herself. Talk about it with her tomorrow."

James nodded, giving me a small smile. "I will. Thanks."

I gave him one back and dug into my pizza.

"I never knew you cared."

I rolled my eyes at his remark. "I don't. But you're my older brother's best friend and we're partners in crime for the time being. I don't want to see you thrown out on the street."

"Either way, I appreciate it."

I smiled again, and went back to my food.

James' POV

We ended up having dessert, watching reruns of dramas on TV as we ate our ice cream.

"You know," Katie commented as I got up to leave, "it's kind of amazing. You've been here for almost twelve hours, and I've only wanted to kill you a few times. It's a miracle."

I grinned. "Well, you did tell me to be on my best behavior…"

She stuck her tongue out at me before walking me to the door. She slipped me a wad of cash. "Here. Ten dollars per room, plus five dollars per meal."

"Katie…"

"Just take it. It'll help hold you over until my mom hires you and you're able to bring home a paycheck."

"Assuming your mom does hire me," I pointed out.

She smiled. "Mom will. She loves you, thinks you're the best thing that ever happened to this world. I don't really see where she gets it from, but I don't question it. Believe me, she'll hire you."

"I hope so."

"She will."

I gave her a small smile in returned and headed out, pocketing the money. I made my way out to my car and got in, driving back to my apartment. It really was a piece of shit. I was lucky to get the heater to work.

I sighed, collapsing on my bed. I was definitely going to talk to Jenn about the possibility of hiring me. Cooking's a hobby and if I could get paid for that, then that would be pretty damn cool.

I could only hope that Katie was right.

So, what'd you guys think? Did you like it okay? Love it? Hate it? Please feel free to review, I love hearing your thoughts and feelings on the story! Hope you all have an awesome weekend :)