Rebound

Obligatory warnings and disclaimers:

1. If reading this is in any way illegal where you are or at your age, or you don't want to read about male/male relationships, go away. You shouldn't be here.

2. I don't know any of the celebrities in this story, and this story in no way is meant to imply anything about their sexualities, personalities, or anything else. This is a work of pure fiction.

Questions and commentary can be sent to "writerboy69@hotmail.com". I enjoy constructive criticism, praise, and rational discussion. I do not enjoy flames, and will not tolerate them.

That said, we now continue.

Whatever good feelings Justin had been enjoying at the going away party were completely crushed by the time we got in the limousine with Chris. To say I was pissed was an understatement, and I wondered how much trouble I would get in if I accidentally kicked Chris in the head on the way to the airport. They'd probably just toss me out of the car, not even slowing down in Chris had any say in it, and then Justin would go home with Chris without me while I'd be nursing asphalt scrapes and rolling out of the way of oncoming traffic. It might be worth it if the tradeoff was kicking Chris in the face, though, because I wanted to take away his smug look just as quickly and completely as he'd stolen Justin's smile.

"We should go," Justin said quietly, carefully putting the lid back on his gift box. The others were all standing with their cake, glaring at Chris and his hulking mass of a bodyguard, but Justin was already walking into the storeroom.

"Justin? You ok?" I asked, watching him open the top bag to put the box inside. When he turned to look at me I felt my heart tumbling down in my chest, falling like an elevator with a broken cable. Justin's eyes were wide, but his mouth was just a thin line, turned down.

"I'm not good at goodbyes," he said, swallowing, while I hit the button to raise the back door. It would be easier to put our bags in the car if we didn't have to carry them out one at a time through the little door. "And, I."

"We're going to miss the plane if you don't hurry up," Chris said, striding into the room behind us. His tone was clipped, sharp, much more so than it needed to be.

"I'm sorry," Justin said, handing his bags to the driver waiting by the open trunk. As he stowed them and looked expectantly at me Justin walked around the side of the car and climbed in the open door, not looking back.

"Do you like being a dick? Do you enjoy it?" I asked Chris, ignoring the bodyguard who was probably supposed to be intimidating me. Chris rolled his eyes and walked over to the car, waiting by the open door for me to get in.

I handed my bags to the driver and turned around to see the others all lined up in the storeroom, watching. Their somber faces were completely at odds with the pointed foil paper party hats, and I wondered if Julie was going to take another picture. Instead she hugged me, squeezing me tightly, her thick sweater (doubtlessly handcrafted by Peruvian natives to help support their village, or some such sob story) brushing my cheek as she whispered goodbye in my ear. Pete hugged me as well, a tight bear hug, crushing me against him and pushing all of the air out of my lungs. Meg followed him, looking a little sad, but also with that little touch of mirthful amusement, as if she was thinking something really wittily biting and had decided to hold it in. I finally hugged Michelle last, trusting that the store was in good hands with her.

"Good luck, and be careful," she whispered. Be careful? Of pop stars?

When I pulled away my eyes were watering. It all felt so final, and in a way, it was. I was leaving with Justin, and I'd come back alone.

"Shouldn't one of you be in working the register?" Chris asked as I walked over to the door. The driver slammed the trunk closed and walked around to stand by Chris, to close the door after we were inside.

"Go to hell," Michelle said eloquently, not bothering to think of a witty comeback. Justin and I both looked out the back, sitting side by side on the plush couch, and they waved as we pulled away, but were quickly lost to us as we went around a turn.

I hadn't ridden in a limousine since my high school prom, and I hadn't paid close attention to that one, since my friends and I had been drinking pretty heavily and I'd been trying really hard to pretend to be interested in my date. I looked around now, thinking about what a change this one was from my usual transportation to the airport, which tended to be the passenger seat of a friend's car as they dropped me at the front doors. Chris was sitting across from us on another couch, sipping a bottled water and making this glaring expression that probably would have looked threatening on someone a little bigger, and without that stupid beard. The bodyguard was sitting up front with the driver, so it was just the three of us back here. Justin had laced his hand through mine, but he was looking out the window, leaning on the side armrest instead of on me.

"So what the hell was that?" Chris asked finally. We were stuck in traffic, waiting for a UPS truck to stop blocking one of Boston's many extremely narrow streets, so Chris must have figured he'd pass the time by being a jackass. It seemed to be one of his hobbies. "You keeping things low key?"

"It was a going away party, from my friends," Justin said, not turning to look at him. He gave my hand a tight squeeze. "Chris, what's going on over there? I saw it before, when we were out touring."

"The Big Dig," I answered, shrugging. Justin knew what that was, but I figured he was trying to play disinterested in Chris, so I played along, even though it was the same kind of thing we'd fought over last night. My choice, apparently, was to play along, as long as Justin kept it fairly innocent, or to contradict him in front of Chris, letting Chris put a wedge between us. "It's supposed to help with traffic, when it's finally done, but that won't be for years. They've been working on it longer than I've been here."

"Hey, I'm talking to you," Chris said childishly. I fought the urge to snicker. He bitched that Justin was manipulative, and yet Justin seemed to know exactly how to push his buttons. "Your friends threw you a party? You've been friends for what? A week? What the hell kind of friends are those?"

"Better friends than the ones I've had for years," Justin said, letting go of my hand. He wrapped his arm around my shoulders and tugged me over to him, still staring out the window, and I leaned against him.

"Point for Justin," I said, smirking at Chris.

"Shut up," he said crossly, turning to glare out his window. I'd count that witty comeback as a point for me. Damn it. Now Justin had me doing it, too.

When we got to the airport I was surprised that we didn't go right through the front, where I usually caught planes. Instead we drove a little further on, and when I looked at Justin curiously he explained that we were on a chartered flight. I remembered him coming in on a private plane, and he explained that he hadn't flown on a commercial jet since September, because it scared him. I hadn't ever been on a private plane, and only had the vaguest impression of what they would be like inside based on nighttime soap operas like "Dallas" and "Falcon Crest". I was a little surprised, and almost disappointed, when we were finally aboard and I saw that there were just rows of seats, like on a regular plane, and not couches or buckets of ice with champagne chilling. Justin snickered a little as we took seats in the back.

"You thought it would be fancier, didn't you?" he asked, smiling as we buckled ourselves in.

"Of course he did," Chris said from a couple rows up. The bodyguard, who hadn't been introduced to me, sat in the first row, behind the little galley thing. "He's only in this for the money, Justin."

"Is that the best you can do?" I asked, laughing, before Justin could say anything. I put a hand on his leg to settle him, since he started to stand. The copilot had already closed the door, and the seatbelt lights were on. "You can't convince me that Justin's this, like, diabolical mastermind. Then you try to tell him that JC's going to give him hell, and that doesn't work, so now you're resorting to me as a gold digger? Do you realize how pathetic you sound?"

"I'm not the one chasing after some twenty year old," Chris said, not turning around. "I mean, that's pretty pathetic. If Justin wasn't available were you going to try the bag boy down at the grocery next?"

"No," I answered, looking away from his back, staring into the aisle. I hadn't even wanted Justin to be available. Chris had no idea what he was talking about, but suddenly he'd managed to dampen my spirits, too. Justin sensed it, and squeezed my hand.

"Hey," he said softly, pulling it up to kiss the back. "Fuck him. I know the truth."

"I hope you do," I said, leaning over to kiss his cheek. His skin was warm, and he made a soft, contented little noise as my lips brushed over his face.

Chris didn't say anything else, and I couldn't even be sure if he'd heard Justin's last comment or not. The lights in the cabin flickered as the engines came on, and then we heard the captain telling us that we would be taking off momentarily, and that we should keep our seatbelts on until he instructed otherwise. Justin whispered to me that there was no flight attendant, but that we could get our own snacks from the galley once the plane was in the air. The bodyguard, still ignoring us all, put on a pair of headphones, and leaned back in his seat, prepared to block us out for the whole flight the way he was blocking out the captain's instructions to keep our seats in the upright position, and Chris opened a folder from his carryon bag and began flipping through it.

"Justin?" I asked, surprised, as he wrapped my hand in both of his. He had my hand in a white knuckled grip, his hands squeezing mine tightly. He was whispering to himself, eyes closed, head down, as the plane began to taxi down the runway, and I realized that he was praying.

"I, um, the takeoff scares me," he whispered, not opening his eyes. I needed to distract him, quick. He was whitening like a shirt in bleach. His hands were shaking, trembling, and he was taking alarmingly shallow breaths. It was almost like when he'd cut himself, Justin graying out on me like I was about to lose him. He needed a redirect.

"Shhh, baby," I whispered, leaning over. I nuzzled the side of his head with mine, and he let out a little sighing whimper, leaning into me. "Don't think about it, Justin. Don't think at all, ok? Just close your eyes."

"They're closed," he whispered, his hands still holding mine. I began to softly kiss Justin's cheek, little pecks that traced up and down his jawline, and I reached up with my free hand to run it over his hair, brushing my fingers through it and rubbing his head soothingly. Justin let out a long breath. "Oh, Chris."

I didn't think the other Chris could hear him, but when I glanced forward I saw his face peering out between the line of seats. I watched him as I continued to nuzzle at Justin, still kissing his cheek, moving up to nibble at his ear a little. Chris made a little frown of distaste, his mouth twisting a little, and then he turned around and I watched him fumble with a pair of headphones. Good. I wanted to focus on Justin, not worrying about whether or not we had an audience. I caught his earlobe in my mouth, sucking on it a little, and he sighed appreciatively as I noted that the plane was starting to pick up speed.

"Shhhh," I whispered again, letting my breath blow across Justin's ear. He shivered a little, letting out a tiny whimper, and his hands squeezed mine, but I was sure he didn't notice that we were about to go airborne. Before he could do anything else, I turned his head, my hand still on the back of it, and plastered my mouth over his, kissing him hard. Justin groaned into my mouth, and I sucked it out of him, inhaling his tongue. The plane left the ground, and Justin let go of my hands to grab my head and hold me in place as his tongue probed into me.

I know I started kissing Justin to distract him, but he was so into it now that he was getting me going, too. I realized the plane was still climbing when my ears popped, but I was only dimly aware of it as Justin bent me back against the seat. His hands were forcing my head back, pulling my mouth open, and we were both inhaling sharply through our noses and letting out little moans and noises as he thrust his tongue into my mouth. Justin's tongue was long and wet, and he swiped it over and around mine sinuously, his firm lips pressed over my own. Both our eyes were closed, and I was stroking the sides of his face, brushing my hands over his hair, while he just held my head still. His grip wasn't painful, but it was kind of firm, and it was actually turning me on to have him suddenly being so dominant.

"Justin," I whispered, urging him on.

"Want you," he grunted, pushing my head back. He burrowed under my chin, biting at my neck hard, pinching my skin with his teeth. He grabbed a handful of my hair and jerked it painfully, pulling my head all the way back, and I gasped as he buried his mouth in the hollow of my throat like a vampire. "Want you so bad."

He batted my hands away from his face, as they were getting in his way, and he continued to suck and bite at my neck as he bent me back over the armrest. My head was out into the aisle now, and I was pretty twisted what with my seatbelt still being on and the armrest digging into my back. At the same time, though, I was as hard as steel in my pants, and when I grabbed the front of Justin's I discovered the he was as well. He let out a loud grunt, looking down at my hand, as I grabbed him, and then he attacked my neck with new fervor. I pressed the heel of my hand against his hard shaft, running it up and down as my fingers kneaded his balls, finding it difficult through the folds of his pants.

Justin's hands slid down my neck, touching, digging in, and then they were at the front of my shirt. Before I could stop him he undid the first few buttons, and reached in to begin tweaking my nipples with both hands. I gasped, letting out a sharp yelp as he twisted them, hard. I looked up, but Chris and the bodyguard still had their heads down and their earphones on, oblivious to what was going on in the back of the passenger compartment. I let go of Justin's balls and wrapped my hand around his shaft as best I could through his pants and began jerking him off. He gasped sharply, at a much higher pitch than mine, and his hips rose toward me. He leaned forward and fastened his mouth around my nipple, which was throbbing from the teasing his hand had been giving it. The burning throb, now replaced by hot sucking wetness, had me almost shooting in my pants, and my hand tightened around him.

Justin was sucking at my chest now, mouthing my pecs, randomly nibbling at whatever piece of skin was near, and I fought his pants open. It was difficult with our seatbelts still on, unable to turn our pelvises toward each other, and I could barely move as it was with Justin bending me backward and doing his best to climb inside me, but I finally got his belt, button, and fly undone. I jammed my hand inside, not bothering to tease him, driven on by his urgency, and felt the velvet hot spike of his shaft throb against my fingers. Justin had a nice, substantial cock, not too big, definitely not small, proportionate to the rest of him, and I loved the way the skin moved a little as I stroked him. Like the rest of him, it was warm and soft but hard underneath, and now my hand was moving pretty quickly because he had a leaking stream of precum sliding out of his head.

"I want you," Justin grunted, sliding back up my chest to run his tongue around the curve of my ear. His hips were still moving, still pushing him against my hand, and his hands were caressing my chest, letting his thumbs brush over my nipples as his fingers curved around my sides. "Oh, God, that's, God."

He gasped as I squeezed his head, pinching it, and I felt what seemed a gallon of precum surge out, slick and hot. Smiling at him, the plane still climbing, I let go of his cock and slid my hand down along the shaft and over his balls. He gasped again as I felt behind them, letting my middle finger lead as I ran it in a line right down the throbbing tube of his erection, and then he let out a sharp yelp as the tip of my finger found the tight pucker of his ass. We'd moved well beyond just distracting him now, but I was as into it as he was, and wanted to make him feel good after I hadn't delivered on my promise to last night. As I traced my finger in a circle around his hole, feeling him flex and try to buck away, his hands slid off of me and onto his armrests. I leaned over and pressed my mouth to the side of his neck as I pushed the tip of my finger roughly inside him.

He let out another little yelp, throwing his head back, his hips jerking up as his tight little pucker clenched around me. The cords in his neck stood out as he fought to breathe, and I ignored his frantic tightening, pushing my finger roughly inside. He was panting now, struggling to inhale, his ass clenching rhythmically around my finger, and I began to jerk my finger back and forth, curving it to find his prostate, pushing on it. He jerked forward so hard I thought he would rip the seatbelt, and his knuckles were white, his hands clenching around the armrests. I sucked at his earlobe now, catching it in my teeth, and then went back to his neck, tasting a little bit of salt as he began to get hotter. He was rocking back and forth, impaled on my probing finger, but the look on his face and stream of inarticulate high pitched noises told me it was far from painful.

"You're so hot, Justin," I whispered. "And so tight."

I added a second finger, no finesse, stretching him wider, knowing that the friction from my almost dry hand had to be almost burning for him. Both fingers jabbed at his prostate, and he was grinding the back of his head into the seat, pushing his chest out. I was watching his face, looking at the way his eyes tightened with each thrust, seeing him bite at his bottom lip to keep from screaming. His nostrils were flaring, and little beads of sweat broke out along his forehead. Abruptly he grabbed my wrist with both hands, freezing me, and leaned over to kiss me again, hard, his teeth pressing against mine through our lips, as he pulled my hand away from him. He let out a little whimper as my fingers finally slid all the way out of him, and I worried that I might have hurt him or done something he wasn't comfortable with. His thick tongue, invading me again, kept me from asking, and my eyebrows went up in surprise as he unfastened his seatbelt and then mine.

"Justin," I gasped, managing to push him away enough to get a word in before he attacked my mouth again. "What are you doing?"

"I need you," he groaned against my neck. "I need you so bad."

"We can't," I protested, not very convincingly. His hands were all over my torso again, my shirt unbuttoned all the way down to where it was tucked into my pants, and he was eating my neck like it was the in flight meal. My hands were all over him as well, up and down his arms and shoulders, rubbing at his hair. "Chris, and the bodyguard."

"They won't hear us," he whispered, pulling at my shirt. I grabbed his hands. This was really hot, and I needed it as much as he did now, but we couldn't just go at it.

"They could turn around," I said, staring into his bright eyes, the same color as the sky outside the windows. His face looked so needy, but then it shifted, almost as if a lightbulb had come on over it, the way they did in old cartoons. He pushed me toward the aisle.

"Get up," he said quietly, kissing my cheek. He held my hands as I slid into the aisle. "Go to the back."

His voice was low, but playful.

"Justin," I said, knowing where this was going. I don't know why I was so concerned about doing this in the same small plane as Chris and the bodyguard, since Justin seemed to think it was completely acceptable, but I was also insanely curious about actually joining the Mile High club. "Where?"

"The bathroom," he answered, pushing me down the aisle, one hand holding up his pants and the other in the middle of my back.

"What if they have to go?" I asked, still not protesting as much as I probably should have.

"We'll have to be quick," he answered, pushing me inside.

Before I could protest Justin was in the tiny closet of a bathroom with me, pressing me back against the wall as he crushed his mouth down onto mine. His tongue snaked in, rubbing against mine again, and we were back at it just as hard as we had been in our seats. I knew this was irresponsible, but I wanted him so bad, and I knew he felt the same. It would be really hard to miss his jutting cock rubbing against mine through the front of his pants, which had fallen open now that he wasn't holding them any longer. Instead, his hands were fully inside my shirt now, tugging it out of my pants as he undid the last couple of buttons. He was tugging at my nipples, cupping my chest, and running his hands up and down my abs, and then he hooked his fingers into my belt loops and jerked me against him.

My hands were all over Justin as well. I ran them up his back, pulling up his t-shirt to claw at his skin as he ground himself against me, and then I dropped them down to his opened pants. I tugged lightly, and they dropped to the floor with a soft clatter as his belt and phone hit the carpeting, his pants having been barely hanging on his hips to begin with. I grabbed his cotton covered ass, wondering if he owned anything besides white briefs, but he was one of the rare guys who could wear them without making their lover feel like a scary molester of some kind. His butt was like kneading bricks almost, hard, round ones, and he had so much muscle there that his cheeks actually dimpled pretty deeply when he clenched them, like he was doing now as he thrust against me. I slid my hands under the waistband to feel his hot skin and tight ass unobstructed, and he buried his mouth under my chin again, his head pushing mine aside. At this rate we were going to land sporting some giant hickeys that weren't there before.

"God, Chris," Justin groaned against me, writhing. One of his hands was groping my cock roughly through my pants, and the other was pinching my nipple and tugging it away from my chest as his mouth sent sparks shooting through me.

"Justin," I whimpered, my hands clenching hard as he bit at my earlobe.

"I need you," he panted. His voice was dripping with need, urgent as he feverishly pressed me against the wall and pushed himself against me like he wanted to try wearing my pants while I still had them on. "Want you so bad."

"OK," I said, pushing him back a little, my hands on his chest.

He kept leaning forward, darting in for quick kisses as I pushed him away, but he couldn't reach anymore as I slid down him, tugging his shirt up again. I made a frustrated noise as it dropped back down again, and he grabbed the bottom of it and pulled it up. Rather than tugging it off, he hooked the bottom of it on the back of his neck, and I stared up at him and felt my mouth water as I saw his abs and chest framed above me, all hard and toned and ready. I grabbed the front of his briefs and jerked them down, not pausing to tease him like I did the last time, and his cock sprang out, flying up to smack the bottom of my chin. He grunted as he stared down at me, inhaling sharply, and I took his hands in mine and brought them to the sides of my head. He looked at me questioningly as I knelt before him, my hands on his thighs, my breath puffing out warmly over his wet, dripping head.

"Fuck my mouth, Justin," I growled, licking my lips. His eyes widened, but at the same time I could see that it turned him on. The minute I said it his cock jerked, and a fat shiny drop of precum oozed out of the head. "Do it."

"Oh, Chris," he began, biting his bottom lip. "I, uh."

"Fuck my mouth," I repeated, emphasizing the "fuck". I leaned forward with my mouth open, close but not quite there, waiting for him to bridge the gap. "Jam your big cock in there and ride my face hard."

I have no idea, even now, where that came from, but it was all Justin needed. His hands tightened on the sides of my head, grabbing my hair to get a grip, and then he pushed forward. I felt his slick, wet head parting my lips and sliding saltily over my tongue, and then I was licking at his shaft as he pushed relentlessly forward. The spongy knob of his crown throbbed at the back of my mouth, against my throat, and I swallowed, opening up and taking him all the way in. As soon as he had pushed all the way forward, leaving my nose in his pubes and his balls scraping my chin, he pulled back, almost all the way out, leaving just the head resting in my mouth. I sucked at it as he looked down at me, nursing on him, and saw that he was looking to see if I was ok. I went submissively limp in his hands, letting my eyes slide closed, and he thrust forward again.

For the next few minutes the only sounds in the bathroom were me inhaling sharply through my nose, gasping for air each time he pulled back, and Justin letting out a high pitched mew of satisfaction each time his pelvis slammed into my face. My hands were on his thighs, feeling them flex as he bent his knees a little, tightening and loosening, his ass clenching hard as he drove himself forward. Spit was running down my chin, leaking out the sides of my mouth, and I could taste a virtual flood of hot precum each time his cock slammed into me. I'd told him to fuck my mouth, and he wasn't holding back, jerking my head back and forth by the hair as hard as he was thrusting himself forward. I prayed that Chris and the bodyguard still had their headphones on, because Justin was so loud that people on the ground could probably hear him.

He began to go faster, thrusting in a fast staccato, and I opened my eyes as I heard his sharp whimpers rising in pitch to become little soprano yelps. Off to the sides of my vision the veins in his arms were standing out in rigid relief against his tan skin as he gripped me, and in front of me his abs were tightening, locking up into a ripped ladder of muscle. I let my gaze climb higher, taking in the curving pecs and the pink nipples full and hard, jutting out from his chest. His adam's apple was bobbing, and his mouth was hanging open, wet, his tongue pressing against his bottom teeth. As I looked up higher, covering the last inch or so, I met his eyes, staring down at me. They were squinting, almost closing on each thrust in, and when they met mine I felt him tense up, his whole body locking. He let out a sharp, wordless cry, and then I felt jets of his hot cum shooting into my throat. He pulled back a little, and I got a taste of him before he pushed forward again and stayed there, holding me in place, until he finished.

When he was done, his breathing returning to normal, his cock starting to soften in my mouth, he pulled me up his body. I kissed as I went, his hip, his abs, his chest, and then his mouth. His kisses were soft now, firm, but not the urgent tongue jabbing tonsil lickers we'd started with, and when I opened my eyes I found him staring dreamily into them. I carefully pulled his shirt back over his head, and then bent to pull up his pants and briefs again. It was hard to move in the closet, but he looked at me with languid desire, mixed with confusion as I buckled his pants back up. He caught my chin in his fingers, and I met his eyes again, looking up from his belt.

"What?" I asked, reaching down to start buttoning my shirt again. I'd have to undo my pants to get the shirt tucked back in.

"What about you?" he asked, running his fingertips along my jaw. I shivered, almost blinded by the desire I saw burning in him. I wondered if I mirrored it. I was in lust with Justin, definitely, but there was more than that tangled up in his gaze. "You didn't, you know."

"Remember yesterday when it was all about me?" I asked. "When I promised to take care of you later and then we never did?"

Justin nodded, but his face looked concerned at the same time.

"You didn't have to," he began, but I laid a finger over his lips.

"I wanted to," I said, doing my pants up again. I looked him over, and watched him do the same to me. "Are we ok?"

"Better than ok," he answered, blushing.

"Let's go back to our seats, then," I said, kissing him.

I let Justin lead me down the aisle, hand in hand, back to our seats, and we climbed back into them. He pulled on a pair of headphones, and I pulled a book out of my bag to pass the time, but within five minutes Justin was asleep, leaning against me with his head on my shoulder. I snickered, thinking about how much I was going to tease him later for being a typical guy, falling asleep right after sex, but really it was pretty damn cute to look down and see his eyes closed and his mouth open a little as he leaned against me, holding my arm like a pillow. It stopped being cute when I felt him drooling through my sleeve, but I didn't want to disturb him after the bad night we'd had, the long day dealing with Chris, and with the possibility of us flying into something even worse.

I thought Chris and the bodyguard were ignoring us, but once when I looked up I caught Chris staring between the seats again, his eyes narrowed. He frowned when he saw me, so I gave him the finger, and he didn't turn around again. I read for a while, and watched the scenery outside the windows change as we flew south. When the captain announced that we were going to start our descent, Justin stirred awake, rubbing at his eyes with his hand. He blinked at me, smiling, and I leaned forward and kissed the tip of his nose.

"Hi," he whispered.

"Hi," I answered, smiling.

In front of us, Chris was rolling his eyes again, shaking his head, but the bodyguard seemed to think it was cute, smiling absently as he got his stuff together. Justin gripped my hands tightly as the plane landed, taking shallow breaths and sitting rigid in his seat with his eyes closed, but he did a lot better than he had on the takeoff, and I kept him distracted by whispering in his ear that it would all be over soon, and that he was my brave, sexy boyfriend, and could handle anything. He let out a sigh of relief when we finally came to a stop, and leaned over to kiss me, his hand cupping the side of my face.

"Thank you," he whispered.

"You ready?" Chris blurted from the front. "We have a lot to do."

"Like what?" I asked, as Justin folded his jacket over his arm and collected his carryon bag. Justin looked up curiously, too.

"We're going straight to my house," Chris answered, smirking. "The guys are waiting for us."

Damn. Outsmarted by the gremlin and ambushed by the ex-boyfriend and the rest of the selfish bastards.

I smiled like there wasn't anywhere else I'd rather be.

To be continued.