A/N: Blargh okay... I dunno. So not in the mood for anything atm. #WhinyAuthorMode.

Shout out to StupidWolves on Tumblr for the GORGEOUS fanart! LOVE it! Thank you so much! The lone bright spot in a pretty shit-tacular week.

Not gonna waste time/space with rambles, cause I don't really have anything to say. Oh, um, stole something Nath said and used it for Camille. I'm sure Nath'll recognize it when she sees it. That or I'll get a "Um, I don't remember what I said lol!" in her review.

Which, hey, YOU GUYS SHOULD REVIEW 'CAUSE REASONS. #WhinyAuthorModeAgain. #YesImPuttingHashtagsInAuthorNotes. #DealWithIt.

All right, gonna go. Hope you guys enjoy this. #Bye.

The room wasn't nearly as bright as Kendall figured it would be when his alarm went off. At first he figured it was just 'cause his eyes were still tired and groggy and sleep-filled, until he rubbed the crap outta them and realized that nope, the sky just wasn't as sunny as he imagined it would be. Weird really. All you ever heard about was how sunny California was, how bright and cheerful, yet at that moment it wasn't.

And, yeah, okay, it was about nine-thirty in the morning, but still. The sun should still be pretty high and bright, the room light. But nope.

Whatever.

He reached over with a hand and slapped the alarm off, not sure if he actually turned it off or hit snooze, certain he'd figure it out soon enough. Arching his back, he stretched where he was laying flat on his spine, a heavy arm loosely draped over his mid-section. He looked down at the muscular limb, seeing the difference between his pale skin and the tan flesh over corded muscle. Following the line of the arm, his eyes came across a still sleeping James laying on his side, peaceful look on his face, not a care in the world as he dreamt. A small smile formed on Kendall's own face, a reluctance hitting him that he had to get up, that he had to leave in order to-

His brow furrowed. Why was he leaving again? Especially when he was naked in bed with a sex god.

Oh. Right. Camille.

Okay, he was actually pretty damn excited about finally meeting her face to face, as well as a little nervous. It wasn't every day one met up with a friend from the internet. And while he knew that she wouldn't judge, wouldn't hold anything against him, he still wasn't entirely sure how to explain everything to her without her looking down on him. After all, he'd flown halfway across the country to pretty much be a celeb's booty call. Even he was judging himself for that shit.

But it was the knowledge that Camille would be nothing but fair and balanced that had him sitting up, rubbing his face wearily. He knew she'd take everything into consideration without any biased feelings, without any preconceived notions about anything, then give an honest opinion about things. And honestly, he wasn't just excited to get a second look at things or another point of view; he was actually pretty excited to meet his friend.

Still. Getting outta bed wasn't exactly an appealing idea.

The alarm went off again, alerting Kendall to the fact that he'd initially hit 'snooze', forcing the blond to groan as he sat up. Turning around, he placed his feet flat on the floor, James' arm sliding off his lap and onto the bed, not seeming to disturb the larger male. The teen focused as he shut off the annoying beeps, wondering how the fuck anyone could sleep through it, only to feel that same arm wrap around his waist and pull him backwards.

He landed sideways on top of the other male, back bent, confusion on his brow. "James?"

"No," he muttered sleepily, eyes still closed. "Stay."

God, it was tempting, especially with the roughness in the singer's voice, the warmth of the arm holding him in place, and the general fact that it was James asking him to remain there. But before he could agree and just slide back into the bed, he mentally reminded himself why he couldn't and why he was up at the ungodly hour of nine am.

"Can't," he stated, hands wrapping around a thick forearm. "Gotta go meet my friend."

The brunet inhaled sharply, stiffening, his entire body tense. The blond turned his head to the singer, seeing the dark look in his eyes, the mask back on his face. He hated it more than ever. The two of them had fucked twice, gone down on each other, had participated in some incredibly intimate acts over the course of just a few hours, yet the elder male was still closed off, still emotionally unavailable, still hiding everything from the younger.

'Like you're one to talk. Hypocrite.'

Ignoring his brain, he shoved the singer's arm to the side, getting up and heading over to his bag. His ass admittedly hurt, a result of the pounding it had taken and the fact that it'd been so long since he'd last had sex, but he didn't show it. If James was gonna keep shit inside, then fuck-dammit, so was he.

Not that he wasn't already, but that was beside the point.

He crouched down by his duffel, grabbing random clothes, figuring they'd match no matter what. Hard to go wrong when your entire wardrobe consisted of dark tees and jeans. Items in hand, he rose to his feet once more, deciding to change in the bathroom, figuring he'd physically shut the other male out, not just emotionally.

"You need a ride?"

Kendall didn't stop walking, didn't look at the brunet, seeing out the corner of his eyes that he was sitting up in bed, legs bent under the comforter, arms hanging off his knees. "I got it taken care of." Okay, kinda a lie, but whatever. He had the number of a cab company and that was good enough. 'Cause at that moment in time, he'd be damned if he was gonna rely on this asshole for anything.

"You don't need me to drive?"

Okay, that stopped him. The teen paused outside the bathroom door, staring at the singer in disbelief, one eyebrow raised in question. "You really wanna be seen with me in public? Seriously?"

The pop star licked his lips, hand rubbing the back of his head, smoothing his hair down as he stared at the comforter. It was a long moment before he finally answered the way the younger male figured he would. "Probably not a good idea."

The smaller male snorted, letting out a "thought so" before entering the bathroom, closing the door over.

He wasn't entirely sure where exactly the coffee shop was located in town, so he assumed a shower was out the question, no matter how quick. Instead he set about getting dressed, finger combing his hair, rinsing his mouth out with the complimentary mouthwash. No point in brushing his teeth since he was going out for coffee—and food, given the way he stomach growled. Figuring he was looking as good as he was gonna get, he left the bathroom, finding James over by his own suitcase in the corner, boxers on. He didn't say anything, just headed back over to his duffel, grabbing his deodorant and putting some on.

"Who're you meeting again?"

Kendall turned to look at the other male's back, deodorant in hand, only one armpit done. He could see a tenseness in those muscles, as well as hear it in his words. It was as though he was trying to make conversation and just seem interested because it was something important to the blond, yet that same jealous edge was there, that same slightly harsh tone that let the younger male know he wasn't entirely okay with this whole thing.

"Camille," the teen answered, finishing with the deodorant and tossing it into his open duffel. "For coffee and food. No biggie."

James just nodded, head tilted down, eyes focused on his suitcase as his fingers grasped a shirt. Kendall could see the tension in his forearm, could see how hard he was gripping the fabric, even from across the room. "Have fun." The words were bit out, like he was being forced to say it but didn't wish for it to happen.

"Thanks." He said it solely because it seemed like the right thing to say. He honestly didn't know what words to speak to make everything okay, mostly because he wasn't entirely sure what was going on in the other male's head, wasn't entirely sure why he was acting the way he was. Maybe if he did, he'd know what reassuring phrases to say. But as it was, he had nothing. So instead, he just set about collecting his phone and wallet, clipping the chain onto a belt loop. Things gathered, he adjusted his pants around his hips and started heading towards the door.

Only to be stopped once more by his name being called.

He twisted his head to the other male, seeing him turned and facing him, arms folded over his bare chest. He raised an eyebrow in expectation, waiting for the brunet to continued, to say what he wanted to say, to figure it out, judging by the quizzical look on his face.

James turned back to the suitcase, grabbing something before walking over, hand outstretched. "Here."

Kendall looked down at what he was holding, seeing a keycard for the room, probably the spare one so he could get back in. His brow furrowed as he took it, feeling like that wasn't what he wanted to say, because if it had been, he would've had the card in his hand before calling for the blond's attention.

The singer cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck. "I—" he started, then paused, another confused look on his face, before that mask came back. "Yeah, have fun."

The teen met dark eyes, seeing an indescribable swirl of emotions in them, an uncertainty, a jealousy, a worry. He didn't want the younger male to go, but he also didn't know how to say it, how to explain his reasons why, if he even knew them.

He slid the card in his pocket, feeling his own iPhone, remembering what he'd seen on the lockscreen of the elder male's, the picture, the look of awe and disbelief on that tan face, like he didn't think he'd ever see the younger male again, like he was relieved to be wrong about believing they'd never meet back up. It was almost like he was just as scared to lose Kendall, as Kendall was to lose James.

That thought in mind, the blond cupped the brunet's face, pressing their lips together in a hard kiss. They breathed out harsh against each other's skin, noses smashed together, the action more of a reassurance than anything. They soon parted, Kendall putting their foreheads together, keeping his eyes locked on the other male's as he spoke.

"There's only you."

James swallowed, hazel orbs tilting down, unable to match the younger male's green gaze, seeming like he couldn't handle it. The blond didn't take offense, simply kissing the brunet gently before pulling back and leaving the bedroom. His beanie was still on the floor near the door and he picked it up, putting it on before leaving the suite, making his way down the hall, into the elevator, and down to the lobby.

The sky outside was dark, a cover of gray clouds covering the sun, explaining the dimness in the room. The air was humid, sticky, seeming more like typical California weather and alerting all to an impending storm. It never felt like that in Minnesota, not this late in the year.

A cab was dropping people off outside the hotel, available to take Kendall, which was good cause he'd totally forgotten to call for a ride and wasn't in the mood to wait. He gave the driver the name and location of the coffee shop Camille had told him about before getting in the backseat, then waited as the car pulled away from the building and onto the main road.

The ride was uneventful, only memorable in the fact that the cab had the distinct smell of pot and was driven by a dude who was clearly a hippie, given the long gray hair and the fact that a live recording of Woodstock was being played. So clearly, the drive seemed to take forever, music torturing him the entire way there.

'At least it's not Bieber.'

'Thank fuck for small favors.'

The cab pulled up outside a coffee shop in a more suburban area of the city, one that shared a parking lot with a strip mall containing a grocery store, a couple chain restaurants, one of those "everything for a dollar" joints, and a hair salon. Kendall paid the driver, getting out the cab with a cough, wondering why and how his mom hadn't literally busted his ass for coming home smelling like that. In a sudden burst of paranoia and anxiety, he pulled his iPhone out his pocket and checked his messages, seeing nothing new. A relieved sigh left him as he slid it back in his jeans then entered the coffee shop.

The place wasn't anything fancy, just like any other shop in the country. A counter ran along the left side, glass shelves displaying pastries and bagels, a space for ordering and paying, another for drink pick-ups. A couple employees were behind it, ringing customers up, creating drinks, working the drive-thru. The main part of the building featured scattered round tables, the area in the back corner containing a couple couches and armchairs, people of various looks and styles milling about. It wasn't overly crowded, only a few folks, but none he was interested in spending any time looking at.

Kendall headed straight to the counter, ordering an iced mocha and a cinnamon raisin bagel. He handed the cashier his money, got his change, then turned around, scanning the customers once more and finding the female he was looking for.

Camille sat in the corner by the windows at the front of the shop, a flowery looking sundress on her petite frame, eyes trained on her smartphone, sipping her own drink from a paper cup. A danish sat untouched on a plate in front of her, probably waiting on him to arrive before she ate, and he wondered how long she'd been there. A quick glance at a clock on the back wall showed that he was actually a couple minutes early so it couldn't have been that long.

Hitching his pants up at his hips, he walked over, pulling out the seat in front of her and plopping down on it—which was a mistake given how his ass screamed at him. "Waitin' on someone?"

She slightly jumped, eyes torn away from her phone, looking up at him with wide orbs. It only took a second before recognition flashed on her porcelain features, a huge smile forming. "Kendall!"

He couldn't help but smile back, the worry and anxiety gone. He had nothing to freak about, nothing to fear. This was just Camille, his internet buddy, the girl who kept things real and gave him hell when he deserved it. He didn't have to impress her, didn't have to put up a front—not anymore anyway. He could just be Kendall and she'd still accept him and be his friend, whether or not he felt like he deserved her.

"You been here long?"

She shook her head, putting her phone down and taking another sip of her drink. "Nope. Only a few minutes. Figured I'd show a lil early and get a good table away from people, because wow do I have some things to tell you."

He scratched his head under his beanie, shifting in his seat, trying to get in a comfy position that didn't put pressure on his sore ass. "Good, 'cause I got some shit to tell you, too."

"I'm assuming it has something to do with why you're moving around so much," she pointed out, motioning to him with her cup before placing it on the table, a salacious smirk on her face.

The grin couldn't be kept from his own face. No matter how awkward and weird James had been that morning, Kendall still felt a bit of post-sex happiness.

Before either of them could speak further, the blond's name was called out, his food and drink ready. He quickly grabbed the items, sitting back in the same chair, in the same position, sipping his iced drink. Tasted pretty damn good, the right mix of sweetness and caffeine that he needed.

"So," Camille started, grabbing her plastic fork and using it to cut her danish. "The fandom is still freaking out over you being here." Piece of food on the utensil, she placed it in her mouth and chewed.

He rolled his eyes as he cut open his bagel and smeared cream cheese on it, knowing that the fans reaction to his presence in San Diego with James wouldn't have changed overnight, but still thinking it was dumb.

She swallowed, licking her lips. "Yeah, there's still the huge debate over whether or not something's going on between you guys, but those girls you met last night tried to put the record straight and it seemed to do a lot for your cover."

The blond's brow furrowed in confusion as he chewed a mouthful of bagel, wondering what girls she was referring to, soon remembering the two blonds and the redhead he'd spoken to outside the venue after the show.

"One of 'em put a post up saying they'd spoken to you and you said you were in town visiting a friend and that they believed you." She paused to sip her drink. "Oh, they also said that you were really nice and polite. And nice pics by the way." She smirked at the last part.

He rolled his eyes again as he swallowed. "I honestly thought they'd never let me leave. They kept asking me shit, including what kinda kisser James was."

Camille's eyebrows shot up at that, seeming impressed by the boldness the trio had displayed. "And?"

"And what?"

"And what kinda kisser is he?"

Kendall cocked an eyebrow, giving her a "get fucking real" look. "I'm not answering that."

She chuckled, tilting her head down to her danish, watching her actions as she cut a piece off. "So, what exactly is going on there? I mean, clearly you guys are having sex now. Are you just fuck buddies?"

He let out a sigh as he slumped back in his chair, sipping his drink as he thought it over, coming up with a whole lotta nothing. "I still have no idea," he answered honestly.

"You guys didn't talk about it?" she questioned, putting food in her mouth.

"Nope." He popped the 'P' as he placed his drink back on the table, staring at his bagel. "We, uh, were otherwise occupied."

She finished chewing and swallowed before speaking. "What about after? Didn't you have time to talk between rounds?"

He shook his head, thinking back to what they spoke about after each fuck. "The only things we talked about were how he had Logan get supplies—" he put emphasis on the word, knowing she'd pick up on the insinuation. "—and how neither of us is a cuddler."

Her brow furrowed at that as she picked up her cup. "No post-sex cuddles?"

"No, we still cuddled."

"Aww."

"Stop aww-ing," he requested, pointing a finger at her. "And before you do it, no fuckin' squealing either."

She rolled her eyes, smirk on her face that showed she meant no harm and that she didn't take his gruff tone in offense. "Okay, so if you guys are actually cuddling, despite not being cuddlers, that has to be a sign that something serious is going on, right? So what else happened?"

Kendall deliberately took a bite of his second bagel half, using it as an excuse, giving himself time to think. He knew he had to just get it all over with, just tell her everything. He just didn't know if he actually wanted to. But he wanted clarity, wanted help, more than he didn't want to talk and open up. So with a mental kick in the ass, he forced himself to speak.

"Well," he started then paused, still not sure where to start, taking a long sip of his mocha to buy himself some more time. "We rode together to the radio station yesterday morning, right? And he seemed freaked out that I held his hand in the limo, even though it was just us, Logan, and Freight Train. And on the ride back, he put his head on my shoulder 'cause he was tired, only to immediately sit back up. So I put my head on his shoulder and he got all tense and shit."

Camille nodded, chewing, swallowing before she spoke. "So he's not into PDA."

"I don't even know if that counts as PDA," he countered. "Like I said, we were in a limo with two people he clearly trusts with his life. You'd think outta everyone on the planet, he'd be okay with someone holding his hand in front of those two, ya know?"

"I guess," she conceded, small pout as she tilted her head from side to side. "But still. If he's as closed off as you seem to believe he is, issues with physical affection would be part of that."

Kendall's face scrunched up, not entirely believing it. "But the thing is," he started, leaning forward, resting his forearms on the table. "He has zero issues in the bedroom. Like, the two of us can't be left alone or we're in each others pants in a heartbeat. He jumped me on two different occasions literally as soon as the door shut."

Her eyebrows went up, painted lips parting, like she was impressed and enjoying the mental image she had from those words. The blond's eyes narrowed, not entirely sure if he liked the thought of his friend thinking about his—well, his guy, he guessed, in that way. But he had no choice. People were gonna think about what they thought about. And really, he was gonna have to just suck it up and deal with it, because "his guy" just happened to be in the public eye and had millions of girls—and some guys—fantasizing like that on an hourly basis.

"Okay, so," she started then stopped, clearing her throat as she sat up, taking a drink to help. "He doesn't like being affectionate around other people, but when you're alone, it's on like Donkey Kong."

He nodded. "Pretty much."

"And I'm assuming he still hasn't opened up about anything, including how he feels about you."

More nodding, his head tilting down, hands picking apart the remaining part of his bagel. "But he's kinda given me clues, ya know?" he stated, putting a ripped bit of his breakfast in his mouth.

Camille was fully intrigued, forearms folded on the table, empty plate shoved away from her. "Like what?"

"Like he told me that I was the first for a lotta things—although I have no fucking clue what things," he clarified. "But I'm pretty sure one of those things was having a fan fly out for the weekend in order to be together. In whatever way we're being together."

She nodded, lips in a pout, her thinking face as he'd come to know it. "So clearly he likes you, enough to track down your number, call you, and fly you out, I'm assuming, at his expense. These are clearly huge signs that he feels something for you that he hasn't felt for another fan."

Kendall placed another piece in his mouth, remembering how James had said something to the same effect in the dressing room, that he was the only one he'd brought onstage that he'd felt something for. "And then there's his lock screen on his iPhone—" he started.

She perked up again, leaning forward over the table. "Is it a pic of you onstage with him? I swear to god I will die if it is."

He cocked an eyebrow at her overreaction, rolling his eyes before he responded. "No. Remember when I told you about my meet-n-greet experience, how we posed for one pic then he insisted on another 'cause his eyes were closed?"

"Uh huh."

"His eyes weren't closed. He was staring at me."

She gasped. "No. Way."

He nodded as he ate his final piece of bagel, putting his plate on top of Camille's empty one. "Yeah. Like, full on, this cu—nice lil smi—"

"You mean cute?"

"No."

"You were about to—"

"No. Now shut up and lemme finish."

She rolled her eyes, hands lifted in a surrender before they slapped back onto her bare forearms. "All right. Please, continue."

"Thanks," he said with a gruff tone. "Anyway, the way he was looking at me in that pic, it was like I was the celeb, ya know? Like I was the famous one giving a fan my attention and he was totally starstruck by me."

"I told you the same thing," she reminded him, motioning with an open hand towards him. "Remember when we were talking before your second show about how I thought James might be at least bi because of how he was looking at you? Only I didn't know it was you, but you know what I mean?" She paused and he nodded, showing he recalled the moment. "That's what it looked like to me, like he was just—" She shook her head as she tried to come up with the right word. "Like he was awed by you. And clearly that feeling didn't go away between gigs and it obviously still hasn't gone away and that's why he flew you out here to spend time with you."

Kendall felt his face fall as he slumped back in his seat, hips shifting as he struggled to relieve the pressure on his ass. He should've been stoked to hear that, to be told that the singer clearly had feelings for him that went beyond celeb/fan, to be told it was obvious to other people. And he was. It assured him that he wasn't nuts, that he wasn't delusional and just imagining shit as he so often worried he did. But there was still one thing nagging at him.

"But why can't he tell me this shit?" He muttered, finger swirling in the condensation forming outside his clear plastic cup.

"Have you told him?" she countered, eyebrow raised.

'Not the point.'

He rubbed the back of his neck with his left hand, his right wrapping around his cup. "Kinda," he reluctantly admitted, refusing to say "no", too stubborn and prideful. Plus, technically, "no" was wrong. "He was acting weird when I told him I had to come here to—"

"Weird how?" she interrupted, head slightly turned to the side, eyes narrowed in question.

"Like," he started then stopped, sighing, putting his left hand around his cup above his right. "I was tryna get outta bed, but he was tryna stop me, held me in place." Fucking. Hell. Squealing in person—and in a public place—was ten times worse than over a webcam. "I told him I had to go to come here and he stiffened, then that fuckin' emotionless mask he always wears when shit gets too real came back. And then yesterday when I asked if it was cool I come here, he got all pissy and jealous."

"Innnnteresting." She stretched the word out as she gave a long, slow nod. "So he has issues with showing affection around other people, yet doesn't wanna share you?"

"Seems it," he replied with a shrug. "Anyway, before I left I told him there was only him and he just. Looked away, like he couldn't handle it."

"Maybe he couldn't," Camille pointed out the obvious, grabbing her paper cup. "Maybe he has issues dealing with emotions or feelings so he has trouble saying things out loud. Or even showing them, hence why he got tense at hand holding and being used as a pillow."

It was such a "duh" thing that Kendall actually felt kinda dumb for not realizing it. He should've seen it sooner, should've understood, should've—well, should've done a lotta shit. But sometimes your head gets so full of other shit that you can't see what's punching you right in the face until someone points it out.

"Look, my advice," she started after drinking, leaning forward once more as she placed her cup on the table, head tilted to the side in a friendly way. "Tell him about you first. Open up about all your own issues and whatever bullshit is holding you back. Chances are it'll urge him to come forward with his own. He'll feel more at ease knowing he's not the only one dealing with a lot of shit, not the only one with huge issues. And who knows? Maybe the two of you can help each other deal with it all and move on and become normal human beings."

Okay, she had him until the "normal human beings" bit.

He cocked an eyebrow at her, causing her to giggle. He snorted, shaking his head as he turned it to the right, looking out the window as he hid the smirk that was threatening to break out. The cement sidewalk was a darker gray, a light mist falling down, and he knew it wouldn't be long until the rain grew heavier, judging by the clouds in the sky. Whatever. He was gonna be there for an hour anyway, had already decided he was gonna use all sixty minutes, despite—or possibly to spite—any pop star's objections and discomfort with it.

That thought in mind, he turned back to Camille, picking up his drink. "Enough of my bitching, what's up with you? How'd your play go?"

She laughed, amused smile on her face, then launched into a tale over her latest onstage performance. The conversation soon turned to her telling him of her post-high school plans of going to a performing arts school up in San Francisco to better her talent before hopefully moving to LA to become a movie star. Kendall's contribution mainly consisted of an admittance over having no clue what he wanted to do with his life, she reassuring him that he'll figure it out. He didn't believe her, but didn't feel like starting an argument over something as stupid as that, so he just shrugged, letting her know he would be lucky to even graduate. That earned him a mom-type disapproving look, but he changed the subject before she could launch into any speech.

The conversation seemed to flow, no awkward pauses or breaks, nothing but talking, laughing, and cracking jokes at each others expense. And all too soon, it was time to leave, that whole "time flies when you're having fun" bullshit actually coming true. When Kendall pointed out that he needed to get going, Camille just smirked, brown eyes sparkling.

"Gotta get back to your man, huh?" she teased, lightly kicking him under the table.

He scrunched up his face at her, feigning offense, trying to hide his own grin at the phrase. "Yeah, yeah," he muttered as he stood, hitching his pants up at his hips.

"You need a ride back to the hotel? I drove here."

An eyebrow raised on its own as he watched her rise to her feet and gather her things. "What? And you couldn't pick me up from the hotel?"

She just smirked. "Nah. Figured it'd be safer to meet you here in case you were a freak murderer or something."

His own grin took on a dark eyes, stepping towards her. "Who says I'm not?"

Camille just laughed, shoving at his chest as she rolled her eyes. "Oh please. Besides, I doubt you have time to kill me and-or hide the body, considering the fact that you're more than likely anxious as hell to get back to James."

He didn't say anything, just shoved his hands in his jeans pockets, not wanting to admit she was right. He was dying to get back to the other male, dying to see him again with his own eyes, hold him, kiss him, maybe even get back in bed and fuck or be fucked. But at the same time, he knew returning would probably mean returning to a moody pop star who apparently had an issue with sharing the blond, not to mention an impending conversation about what the fuck was happening between the two of them, one he wasn't looking forward to but knew needed to happen before his trip was over.

"Let's go, Lover Boy," the petite female jested, walking around him on her way to the door.

Kendall turned, calling out her name, watching her pause by the glass entryway, question on her face as she looked at him. Without another word, he stepped over, taking hold of the small arm that was holding the handle and using it to pull her to him, hugging her tight. She returned the embrace, wrapping her arms around his waist, head on his chest, a smile on her face as she breathed out a small laugh against his tee.

"Thanks," he told her, genuinely meaning it as he held her.

She rubbed his back, pulling her head away to look up at him. "You can thank me by finding your balls and talking to James so I can gush all over Tumblr about what a cute couple you are," she beamed, painted lips pulled into a closed grin.

"Oh, well, if I'm doing this for you—" he stated sarcastically, trailing off and ending it with an eye roll.

Camille just giggled, pulling away from him and heading towards the door. "By the way," she started, gripping the handle as she turned her head to him, that smirk still plastered on her face. "Told you I'd getcha to hug me." With that, she turned back and strutted her way out the coffee shop, nose in the air, an aura of smugness about her.

If Kendall didn't love her so much, he'd punch her.