"Nat cheated on you."

That was unfortunately a sentence I'd heard before, but I knew it was the last time I would hear it. Natalie and I had been on and off for a year already, and it was always because of her cheating. Rhett never understood why I took her back every time, and I didn't have a good answer for him. I knew I deserved better, but I didn't know if I could get better. Not after Sarah.

"Do you... want me to tell her to leave?" Rhett jumped in. He'd stood at my side as our bassist Andy delivered the news of what he saw.

"No, I can handle it," I answered with surprising ease.

"You sure?"

"Yeah." I looked back at Andy. "She's on the bus still?"

He nodded with pursed lips. "Do you wanna know who—"

"No. I don't care who it was."

"Okay," he answered with a shrug, moving to the side for me to walk by.

The stench of weed punched me right in the nostrils the moment I stepped onto the bus. It had always been Nat's way of telling me she did something wrong to prove a point—relaxing with a bong afterward. I think she also hoped that a second-hand high would make me more lenient. Maybe it had in the past, if that was even possible, but it wouldn't again. I was over it.

"Hey, baby," she crooned with a big smile as I stepped past the bunks into the lounge.

"Hey," I answered curtly.

She stood immediately, rushing over to wrap her arms around me and nuzzle her face into my neck. "I missed you so much," she whispered between kisses.

My hands found her waist, taking hold and gently pushing her. "Nat, stop."

She lifted her face from my neck and went for my lips, but my hand flew up quickly and held her jaw, freezing her in the middle of her attempt. All excitement dropped from her eyes and she watched me seriously, stepping back after a short moment so that my hand dropped to my side. I took a deep breath and exhaled a sigh.

"Go home, Nat," I said softly.

Her face twisted with emotion as her lips quivered. "I just got here, Chris."

"And you cheated on me again," I reminded her.

Her eyes widened. "N-no, baby, he was nothing," she stammered. "It's just..." She trailed off as sobs overtook her. Fake sobs. The same ones she pulled out every time. "I missed you so much and you wouldn't even kiss me when I got here!"

I felt a pang of guilt for that, because she was right. I wouldn't. She arrived during our soundcheck and tried to kiss me after, but I brushed her off. It felt wrong after whatever the hell happened with Rigo. I chalked it up to the hangover and not feeling great, then went to the merch tent to talk to fans and try to clear my head.

"You're not happy with me, Nat, so just go home." I chewed on the inside of my cheek nervously, intent on this being the last time we broke up.

Her sobs abruptly stopped, and her expression soured. "Go fuck yourself, Chris," she said in a low voice. She leaned down and swiped up her still-packed bag, shoving by me as she passed, but paused by the bunks and turned around with a smirk. "The other guy was way better, anyway."

Aha... there's the Nat I know.

"Good luck with him, then."

She scoffed in irritation and kept on walking, slamming the bus door behind her and leaving me alone to think. I didn't want to think. Thinking at all just led back to... him.

Before those thoughts had a chance to take hold, I turned and rushed off the bus, too. I went straight for the nearest pile of liquor and filled a cup to the brim, the same as the night before. The same amount I drank before I...

Fuck!

I tipped the cup and let half of it spill onto the ground as my stomach churned. He was nice enough and all, but waking up with his boner against me was more than I could take. Not to mention his nonchalance about it, like it was no big deal that we kissed. Two men kissing? How the fuck was that okay? Maybe that cross on his neck was just decorative.

"Chris!"

I followed the sound of my name with my eyes to Rhett, relieved to finally have something else to think about. He waved me over to his group eagerly, and I hurried over with much more gusto than normal. I could see the surprise in our drummer Ryan's eyes as he stood beside Rhett with his shoulder-length brown hair pulled up into an uncharacteristic messy bun. The girl fawning over him on his other side must have been responsible for it.

"Look who's excited to party now," Andy chimed in as I reached the crowd. He smiled mischievously, standing with his arm around an insanely hot scene girl with the biggest blonde mane of teased hair I'd ever seen. He always had luck on tour; he refused to let his four eyes impede his conquests. Their pale blue color and his spiked brown hair made him look kind of like a nerdy JC Chasez.

"I knew it was a good idea to invite those Mexican dudes," Rhett snickered.

My stomach tightened at the reminder. "Yeah, great idea."

"Where's your new best friend, anyway?"

I scowled at him. "How the fuck should I know? I don't have a tracker on the guy."

"He's over there," Andy answered, nodding with his head all the way across the open space to where Rigo stood alone with a red cup in his hand and a pensive look on his face.

"Go talk to him!" Rhett urged me. "Invite him over!"

"Really?" Andy interjected with a subtle grimace. "After he...?"

Rhett shrugged. "Yeah, why the hell not? Invite him, Chris!"

I could feel my cheeks flush immediately. "Why me? You invite him over."

"Dude, he slept in your bunk. Fucking invite him over."

"In your bunk?" the girl on Andy's arm asked through giggles. "That's so gay."

"Yeah, it's a real fairy tale," Rhett scoffed as he rolled his eyes. "Just go talk to him, dude. You guys are friends now."

"Fine," I agreed begrudgingly.

I threw back the entirety of my drink on the way over, gagging just a little at the burn as it slid down. He looked up slowly when I approached, examining me from the bottom up until our eyes locked. His eyes burned with that same intensity I'd seen when I bumped into him, and it made me even more hesitant to speak.

"What you want?" he demanded.

I swallowed nervously. "I don't want anything, I just saw you over here alone—"

"I thought you weren't gay," he interrupted, glaring hard.

"I'm not," I spat incredulously. "My girlfriend is literally here. Well. Ex-girlfriend now, anyway."

"What happened? She found out you're gay?"

I exhaled heavily in frustration. "I'm not fucking gay. You're the one who didn't blackout last night. Why the fuck did you kiss me back?"

He shrugged, the return of that infuriating nonchalance. "I was drunk, too. You don't have to black out to be stupid."

"So you're just stupid, but I'm gay? How the fuck does that work?"

"If you don't want nothing from me, why you here?" he challenged.

"Rhett asked me to invite you over. He felt bad for you, not me."

"Felt bad?" he scoffed. "Ay, no mames. I don't need nothing from you fucking gringos."

"Fine. Go fuck yourself then," I fired back, turning to head back to the group.

"I don't need to. I already fucked your girlfriend," he interjected before I was out of earshot. I stopped short and turned back to see him smirking. "Sorry, ex-girlfriend."

"What?"

"Is she on birth control?" he asked thoughtfully, ignoring me. "I didn't pull out."

The rage that suddenly bubbled up inside of me was unlike anything I'd ever felt before. The alcohol probably amplified it, just like it did with all the other things it made me feel. I wasn't a fighter, though, so I didn't exactly know what to do with all that anger. My feet lurched forward, and at that Rigo grinned a full smile. He took a few steps closer too, shrinking the distance between us. I instinctively took another step.

"You're a piece of fucking shit, you know that?" I growled through my teeth.

He shrugged. "I heard that a few times."

"Don't go near my fucking girlfriend again."

He feigned a frown. "Ay no, don't be jealous, baby. You had me first."

"I don't want you," I sneered.

He stepped much closer, hovering just a few inches from my face with a soft smile. "Are you sure about that?"

My stomach tightened and I could feel my face flush in response. "Yeah. I'm sure." I stepped back, glaring at him still, and then turned to rejoin my bandmates and their group.

Rigo mumbled something under his breath, but it sounded like Spanish and I didn't care to ask. In fact, I wasn't even in a good enough mood for the party anymore. Fuck being alone with my thoughts. I would drink myself right to sleep and deal with things in the morning.

I stopped at the same liquor pile as before and grabbed another half-filled red cup of vodka. Yeah, it was the amount that made me black out and make a giant mistake, but I could go straight to bed and skip the mistakes altogether. So that's exactly what I did.

The argument with Rigo replayed in my head over and over as I tossed and turned for hours. Each time, I noticed something new about him: the way his Spanish slipped out when he got angry, the pride he held himself with, his crooked smirk, that delighted look in his eyes when he made me angry. My stomach squeezed and churned as I thought of it all. Then that question—are you sure about that? It just kept repeating in my head like some kind of nightmarish lullaby until I finally fell asleep.

With so much alcohol in me, I wasn't sure. He was definitely right. I'd started it. I could feel that. I wanted to kiss him again. His perfect, full lips were all I could see in my dreams.

I didn't even think of Nat. Not once. It was like the moment our relationship ended had been nothing at all.

"Chris."

The voice was soft in my sleep, and it sounded like Rigo. Another incoming replay.

"Chris."

I groaned internally and kept my eyes firmly shut, intent on falling back to sleep and ignoring my thoughts for the entire day.

"Chris!"

At that, I sprang upward from the mattress, propping myself up on my elbows as I looked around in confusion. My bunk curtain was already ripped to the side and the dim light was blinding to my hangover.

"What? What's going on?" I asked groggily. I did a double-take as my eyes finally focused. "Rigo?"

"Buenos días. Get up," he ordered me.

"What?" I attempted rubbing the exhaustion out of my eyes, but it had no effect. "Why?"

"So we can hangout." He said it so easily, as if our argument the night before hadn't even happened.

But maybe that was the point.

"Pass."

His face scrunched up in irritation. "You can't just 'pass.'"

"Yeah, I can," I countered with a chuckle. "I can do whatever I want."

"I'm not trying to fight you, if that's what you're worried about," he assured me with a glint of humor in his eyes. "My bandmates really want us to be friends."

"Do they?" I grinned. "Do they not know you fucked my girlfriend?"

"They know. That's why."

"Yeah, real great basis for a friendship."

"They're scared you'll get us kicked off the tour," he explained, rolling his eyes.

I looked away thoughtfully. "Can I do that?"

"Ni lo pienses," he spat through gritted teeth.

For the first time, I didn't feel fazed by him. "You know I don't speak Spanish, dude. I have no idea what that means and honestly, I don't care."

He pursed his lips firmly as the humor drained from his expression. "I didn't know she was your girlfriend. Not until you said it. I'm sorry."

I stared at him unresponsively for a moment, stunned by the apology. I hadn't expected that from him, and I didn't know what to say. My stomach tightened nerve-wrackingly at it, though.

He cleared his throat uncomfortably after a moment. "So... can we be friends?"

I sighed, irritated with the rampant nerves of his presence and with being awake while a jackhammer pounded my skull. "Yeah, sure," I relented. "But let's be friends later. I'm sleeping."

"I didn't sleep at all last night, so get up or scoot over," he countered decisively.

Scoot over? He really wants to tempt that beast so soon after last time?

I wanted to put up a fight, but I couldn't. My brain was throbbing, and all I wanted was to sleep. Instead, I scooted over in my tiny bunk and looked at him with a sly smile as the humor drained from his face.

"Get in or I'm taking the whole bed again."

He stared at me for a moment before he finally jumped into gear and kicked his shoes off, stepping on the lower bunk to climb in and pulling the curtain closed behind him. My heart pounded anxiously as I felt the warmth of his body against mine in that small, dark space. Just as I closed my eyes to relax and calm my heart, his arms appeared around me; one under my neck and around my shoulders.

I tensed up immediately. "What are you—"

"It helps me sleep," he said in a hushed whisper just inches from my ear.

I didn't say anything else, but I couldn't relax either.

"Where you from?" he asked.

I hesitated for a few seconds, my heart pounding even harder. "Why do you wanna know?" I responded in a shaky whisper.

"We're friends, right?"

"Yeah..."

"We can talk until you can sleep."

I exhaled some nerves, relaxing into his embrace at last. My heart still raced and I didn't even know why. It felt like those nerves were more than just nerves. They were... butterflies.

"So, where you from?" he whispered again.

"I'm from Chicago," I answered after another moment of breathing. His breath hit my cheek as we laid there, still smelling like tequila and regret from the night before. "Where are you from?"

"That's not an easy answer," he snickered quietly.

I smiled, knowing he couldn't see it as my heart fluttered wildly. "We have time. Tell me."