A shiver went down my spine as my lips connected to his. The kiss was slow and soft. I hadn't moved my hand from his neck. One of his hands slowly went up my spine and stopped at the nape of my neck.

I broke the kiss and gazed at him. He looked at me with muddled, unfocused eyes.

Why the hell am I kissing Andrew—

Before I could finish that thought, Andrew placed his lips on mine once more, and a gasp left me as I got lost in the kiss.

I weaved my finger through his hair. I had touched his hair before, but not like this, never like this. It was rough in my hands, his short curls threading through my finger. The kiss was slow and intense, and I returned it back with equal fervour. His lips tasted sweet like champagne and hot like the breeze on a summer morning in L.A. Just like I had imagined. I smiled.

He moved his thumb and rested it on my cheek and pulled my face closer to his, deepening the kiss. I stepped towards him, leaving not a sliver of air between us. Our breathing started picking up as the kiss grew hotter.

"Keighlah, my God, Keighlah," He broke away and started kissing down my cheek to my jawline to my neck, a choking sound leaving his throat. It was a very un-Andrew-like sound that I had never thought I would get to hear.

"Andrew?" My voice sounded breathy to my ears.

"Yes?" He spoke into the skin of my neck, sending a new wave of shivers down my spine.

"What are we doing?" The rational part of me asked.

"I don't know," he left my neck and looked at my face; hair mussed, lips swollen and gleaming. "Do you want to stop?"

I looked at his lips and his hair and the flushed features of his face, and a sudden desire took over me, leaving me feeling scorched. "No," I said in a low, raspy voice.

It seemed like the irrational part had taken over.

The second the words left my mouth, they were replaced by his lips. This time, the kiss wasn't soft and slow. It started fast and only picked up pace. His hands weren't staying in one place. It moved from face to my back to my hips and back to my face again.

I had always thought he had nice hands: They were a musician's hand, long and delicate. Sometimes, I had wondered what it would be like to have them run down my body.

My head was spinning.

I broke away and inhaled a big breath of air. "Bed," I squeaked.

Andrew looked at me for a second before taking my hand and guiding us into the nearest bedroom that was present—which was one of the guestrooms—and slammed the door shut.

He pushed me against the door and started kissing me with urgency. I moaned softly into his mouth as my hands moved down his chest, coming back up to his hair as I moved my hands along his back.

His palms started a journey down my body and stopped at my thighs. He picked me up with a grunt and I wrapped my legs around his waist. He carried us to the bed and dropped me.

My heart beat loudly as he started climbing on top of me, almost like a tiger, slowly and steadily. As soon as he was within my reach, I pulled his head down to my face and kissed him. He made a small sound of surprise. I pushed his suit back and removed it, revealing the white shirt underneath. I started unbuttoning his shirt, but my hands were shaking too much. He brought a hand to his chest and helped me unbutton it.

Once I was able to unbutton the goddamn thing, I pushed him on his back and climbed atop him.

Andrew had a dazed expression on his face as he stared at me. I slowly unzipped my dress on my back and the soft material pooled around my waist. His face went tight with desire as he placed his hands on my back, pulling me down for another kiss that had my head swirling. He pressed me to his body, so much so that my breasts got squashed against his hard chest, but I didn't mind.

Sweet, painful pleasure.

His hand moved behind my back and fumbled at my bra, unclasping it and tossed it somewhere; and there it was: I was exposed now. Before I could start feeling insecure, I felt his lips between my breasts and bit down hard on my lip, trying not to scream.

Time went slow, then it went fast again. One by one, every piece of clothing started falling from our bodies until we were skin to skin. Andrew was lying on top of me as we stared into our eyes.

"Condom." I gasped.

He smiled. "We can't forget that."

He quickly got off and ran out of the room. I presumed he had gone off to his room to get the item. He came back just a few seconds later.

"Are you sure about this?" He asked.

I ran a finger down his face and smiled. "No."

He cracked a grin. "Neither am I."

Then he covered my body with his and I got lost in everything that was him.

* * *

Sunlight poured into the room, and I put a hand over my face to block the bright light. I slowly opened my eyes and looked at the ceiling, blinking in confusion.

This wasn't my room.

I twisted my body a little and it started paining in places it shouldn't. I looked at my hand.

And a truckload of memory rushed into my brain.

I gasped loudly and sat up with a start. Looking beside me slowly and scaredly, I found Andrew sleeping on his stomach with the blanket covering just from his butt down.

I couldn't help it. I shrieked.

"Huh!" Andrew woke up with a gasp and looked at his surroundings in a sleepy manner. "What happened? Who died?"

"What the fuck, Andrew!" I squealed in complete shock.

"Why are you shouting?" He put a hand over his ears and looked at me. Slowly, his eyes grew huge.

Ah, the truck had hit him now.

"Oh my God," he said.

"Yes," I replied.

"We had–"

"I know!"

"You and I–"

"Yes! Fuck, Andy," I put a hand on my head.

He smirked. "That's what you said last night."

I grimaced at him and wrapped the blanket around me, stepped out of the bed. I turned around to find a very naked Andrew lying on the bed.

"Andrew, you're naked!" I yelped, and put a hand over my eyes.

"I mean, you weren't complaining about it last night—oof!"

I had thrown a pillow right at his waist, effectively covering him. I started putting on some random spare clothes that were present in the guest room with rapid speed.

"Keighlah? What are you doing?"

I ignored him and continued pulling up my pants. Andrew removed the blankets and put on his boxer and his pants swiftly before turning towards me. "Keighlah—"

But before he could say what he wanted to say, I was out of the room, stomping across the living room floor towards the front door. I needed to get away. Away from Andrew's stupid face and his incongruously hot body.

I burst through the door and hadn't gone too far away when I heard rapid footsteps behind me.

"Keighlah, wait! Where are you going?" Andrew was jogging towards me.

"Away from you, where else?" I snapped at him. But he caught up to me and grasped my hand.

"Keighlah, stop," he came to a halt in front of me. "You can't just run away everytime like this."

"Watch me," I snarled and attempted to walk away again but he blocked my path.

"We can talk like adults in our house."

"Talk like adults? We slept with each other, Andrew, what's there to talk about?" I threw my arms up.

"I know, but—"

"Andrew, sex! We had sex! Do you know how messed up that is?"

He looked hurt. "Is it that awful to have sex with me?"

"Don't make it about yourself—"

That's when I heard a camera snapping somewhere.

"Seriously? It's fricking eight in the morning!"

"Actually," said Andrew, "it's 12 noon."

I glared at him, a look that clearly said you're not helping, and started walking back to our house. Andrew followed me quickly. Once we were inside our house and in our privacy with the door slammed shut, I started to talk.

"Do you understand the gravity of the situation here?" I said.

"It was just sex, Keighlah!" Andrew exclaimed.

I looked at him, appalled. "Just sex? Just se— that's everything, Andrew."

"It didn't mean anything," he shrugged, looking frustrated.

"It doesn't matter if it meant anything or not!" I yelled. "We fucked. This was not supposed to happen," I told to myself more than I told him.

"People sleep with each other all the time, Keighlah. It's completely normal!"

"Yes, but except, this is us! Me and you, Andrew. We are bandmates. We are best friends. WE DON'T HAVE SEX!"

"What are you yelling at me for?" Andrew burst out at me. "It takes two, remember?"

We were looking at each other, both heaving with anger. I looked at him with furrowed eyebrows for a while, then deflated.

My head was spinning. The hangover was coming up and I couldn't keep screaming at him anymore.

"I'll be in my room," I said quietly, not meeting his eyes, and turned around. I walked to my room, closed my door shut and he didn't say a word.

What had I done?

• • •

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Next chapter - next Saturday at 10pm IST.