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I nod, but I'm not really thinking about these technicalities. I'm thinking about how Ethan and I are going to be alone on that bus.

Ethan grabs my suitcase and guides me towards the sides of the room. Piper, genius woman that she is, uses the opportunity to go up to Kit. They exchange friendly-looking words and a hello hug.

But I can't consider the implications. Ethan's arm is around my waist. His body is warm and he smells good, like sweat and like Ethan.

We move through the crowded backstage area and out through the side door. Sure enough, there are several black, unmarked tour buses parked in the massive lot.

Ethan leads me to the one on the far right. "Your drive okay?"

"Yeah, great. Piper seems really grown up."

"She is. I hate it."

"Overprotective older brother?" I ask.

He nods, pulls open the bus door, and leads me inside.

It's big. There's a seating area with a TV and a couch, a section of six bunks with privacy curtains, and a small kitchenette.

Ethan places my suitcase on one of the bottom bunks. "This one is yours."

"Great. Thanks." I shift my weight between my legs. I'm still right at the bus's entrance. He's all the way over there. Only the bus is small enough that all the way over there is only five feet.

He moves closer.

Closer.

Closer enough to touch me, hug me, kiss me.

He looks down at me. His breath is steady. His blue eyes are filled with something I can't place.

His lips look soft.

But I can't think like this. We have to be friends. He'll throw me away again, and I won't survive that.

I take a step backwards. I need to say something, do something. "I… I'm hungry."

I swallow hard.

God, I really have no tact.

"I was going to get tacos at a place down the street." He grabs an Angels cap from one of the bottom bunks. "You want to come?"

"Won't you get recognized?"

"Not with this." He pulls on the baseball cap.

"Ye

ah, right. Go Angels. How are they doing?"

"Season hasn't started yet." His lips curl into a smile that lights up his eyes. He's endeared by my nervousness. "Place has great guacamole."

Damn, my weakness.

Okay, dinner. I can do dinner. Friends have dinner, and Ethan and I are friends.

"Sure," I say.

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