Calandra tried her best to not let her personal feelings get in the way of her job. But after watching the woman who had joined the tour just a few days prior sidle up to Justin and pull him out of rehearsal, she nearly lost it.

Three days. Three days since he had really talked to her. Four, if she allowed for that day she had been sick as a dog. She had awakened the morning after the first show in Charlotte to an empty bed and no fever. No aches or chills or nausea had impeded her morning routine, which had seemed awfully boring without Justin's presence. Ariella hadn't known where he was and together they had concluded that he had probably gotten another room so she could get her rest.

If she had only known. Bitter tears filled her eyes as she watched Justin and Catherine disappear backstage and she gave a motion to the other dancers that rehearsal was over. Sighs of relief swept across the stage and she moved to sit on the edge, bringing her towel up to her face to catch the tears before they could fall.

I thought I meant something. I thought he liked me. Memories of their times together scattered through her mind as the stage emptied and she shook her head when the girls asked if she wanted to go out for lunch. At least they seemed sympathetic. During one of the routines each girl was supposed to circle Justin and slap his cheek lightly. But the night before they had each hauled off and slapped him so hard he had faltered in the chorus of the song. And when he had confronted them after the show each had offered a shrug before slipping away.

I don't want to hurt him, though. Calandra thought sadly as she pulled her knees to her chest. She just wanted to know why. She wanted to know why he had pushed her aside for that silly, fake-breasted Catherine whose giggles would send an old hound dog in the opposite direction. She wanted to know why he hadn't even told her they were over before pulling the woman who dressed like a stripper into his hotel room. Damnit, she wanted to know why she didn't seem to matter anymore.

She angrily slapped her knee and rolled to her feet. If that was what he wanted, fine. If he was happy with a woman who spoke only to him and ignored everyone else, if he found her jiggling breasts and fake-tan legs arousing, so be it. There was nothing she could do about it. Time was running out, as Ariella had informed her bluntly that morning. Less than a week to get him to say he loved her. She snorted at the thought as she tossed her towel into the laundry bin backstage. Five days to get him to fall in love with her? When he had that bimbo on his arm?

Not fucking likely. Calandra snatched up her things and headed out of the arena, steeling herself against the pleased moans that came through Justin's dressing room door. She resisted the urge to fling open the door and knock Catherine on her ass, knowing that it would only make her look stupid.

***

"You know what I think?" Cheryl, one of the backup dancers, dug her spoon into her bowl of soup and brought it to her mouth as her question hung in the air. "I think you should fight fire with fire."

Calandra rolled her eyes at the statement, idly twirling her fork in her spaghetti. Another day had passed and they were in yet another city. She couldn't remember which state they were in but didn't stress over that fact. The dancers had invaded her hotel room with a barrage of food and unhealthy snacks and a pile of gory movies. To take her mind off things, Cheryl had explained.

"How is she going to fight fire with fire?" Julie asked around a mouthful of lasagna, not flinching when the head of the man on the TV screen suddenly exploded in a spray of blood and brains.

"Come on! She's gorgeous!" Cheryl insisted. "Remember how he was talking about how hot her body was?"

It had been a unanimous unspoken agreement not to mention Justin by name. Instead, the girls referred to him as he, him and, more frequently, the asshole. Calandra shook her head slightly, though she could remember many times when he had sung the praises of her body. Usually when it was wrapped around his, naked and sweaty, but he had frequently listed her assets.

"Yeah. So? What's she going to do, start walking around naked?" Deborah grinned, holding up her milkshake in a toast.

"Of course not. Come on, Calandra, you know what I mean." Cheryl said. "You always hide that body in jeans and sweatshirts when you're not in your workout gear. Don't you own any skirts? Flirty tops? Heels?"

Calandra shook her head slowly, thinking of the two suitcases filled with her comfortable clothes. Jeans, sweatshirts, t-shirts, sweatpants, pajama pants, flip-flops, sneakers and her workout clothes. The closet at her apartment had held many skirts and skimpy tops and there had been a plethora of high heels and sexy boots. But they weren't her style. She had dressed up only twice in her life and those had been the two proms she had attended in high school. Besides, Justin had said he loved the way she looked in her jeans.

Of course, that was before Barbie on Stilts had showed up.

"You don't, do you?" Cheryl sighed and dipped a wedge of bread into her soup. "I might have a couple skirts that you could wear."

"I've got some tops you can borrow." Deborah offered.

"We're the same shoe size, right? Your legs are thinner than mine, you can probably wear those boots I got the other day. I can't get them to zip up past my knees." Julie looked down at her lasagna and, obviously deciding that her diet wasn't to blame, began to eat it with renewed vigor.

Great, I can dress up to watch reruns of I Love Lucy, Calandra thought with a sigh. She looked to the night stand by the bed, where Ariella had chosen to stay during the movie marathon. Her small hands were covering her ears and her eyes were closed but Calandra could tell she was still freaking out over the horror movie that was playing. We'll watch Peter Pan when they leave and you can pick on that slutty Tinkerbell, okay?

Ariella shifted to give her a glare and Calandra grinned before turning back to the dancers.

***

When he stepped out of the shower, Justin peered into the bedroom and saw that Cat had already gone. He sighed as he dried off, tucking the towel around his waist. She had said she would wait. That they would go down to dinner together. But obviously his shower had taken too long. Shivering as he stepped into the bedroom, he saw through the door that the outer door of his suite was hanging wide open. He headed in that direction, deciding she had probably skipped down to the vending machines to get a snack to tide her over. When he leaned out and looked down the hall, he didn't see her though and was about to shut the door when another door down the hall opened.

Whoa. That was Calandra's room, right? He felt a pang in his chest when a woman stepped out, realizing that he had all but ignored her recently. He hadn't meant to. He was just so tied up getting to know Cat, who seemed to know all the right things to say without making it seem like she was just saying the words to make him feel good. He lightly drummed his fingers against the doorframe and just as he stepped into the hall to go see Calandra, she stepped out of her room.

It was Calandra, but not like he had ever seen her before. He blinked several times as she slowly walked down the hall. The naturally seductive sway of her hips was even more pronounced in the short black skirt that hugged the curves of her upper thighs and backside. His gaze lowered, taking in her seemingly never-ending legs as his breath caught in his throat. The black boots she wore went to just above her knees and his fingers burned with a sudden desire to touch the smooth patch of skin between the top of the boots and the hem of the skirt. His mouth went dry as his gaze traveled up her legs again, pausing to watch her hips before looking to the rest of her. Flimsy red material draped over her torso, slithering with each step she took and giving glimpses of her flat stomach. He could tell just by watching that she wore no bra and his mouth watered as he remembered the way her breasts had felt in his hands, the way her nipples had felt on his tongue. Her black wavy hair tumbled past her shoulders and he turned to watch her as she walked by, biting his lip. Hate to see her go but love to watch her leave.

As though reading his thoughts she turned to look at him over her shoulder and he beckoned to her. A crass comment about being able to make her come with one finger was on the tip of his tongue when she strolled towards him, but he was diverted by the sway of her breasts. He wet his lips, unabashedly gazing at her chest and he literally ached when he saw her nipples harden under the fabric. Without a word he pulled her into the room and shut the door. She leaned against it, gorgeous body silhouetted against the white wood and he dipped his head to bring a peaked nipple into his mouth. His hands pressed on the door as he sucked and nibbled her through the thin fabric, surprised at the whines that came from her throat. He sucked the nipple hard, releasing it with a loud smack before doing the same to the other nipple.

When he was finished she was panting, moaning his name and she whimpered when he slid lower, brushing the top aside so he could trail his tongue over her abdomen. He licked at her navel, hands moving to clutch her backside when she began to squirm. A hand landed on his shoulder and he was pushed back, falling to the floor. Staring up at her, breathless, he whined when the heel of her boot grazed over the towel that barely hid his erection. The pointed toe slid beneath the towel and with a turn of her ankle it flipped open.

Just as she knelt over him and he felt the delicious slide of leather against his length, she was gone.

Justin opened his eyes and groaned when he realized it had all been a dream. No doubt brought on by the clothes Calandra had worn when a bunch of the crew had gone out to a club the other night and he had been forced to watch her dance with other men. Men, he was sure, who had no idea what a wonderful person she was beneath the skimpy clothes she was wearing.

Next to him, Cat slept peacefully and she didn't stir when he slid out of the bed. It was always easier to slip away when she wasn't paying attention. She was always paying attention, though. She had pouted and asked why he was with her when it was so obvious he wanted to be with Calandra and he'd had to assure her that she was the one he wanted. And he had brought her back to the hotel early to show her just how much he wanted her.

Funny. Whenever he and Calandra had been at a club and he wanted her, he'd taken her. There had been no need to hide his desire for her. He hadn't had to take her to back to the hotel to make love to her.

Make love? He bit back a chuckle at the words, quietly as possible sliding his jeans on. He grabbed his discarded sweater and pulled it over his head, grabbing his shoes before slipping quietly out of the room. He breathed a soft sigh of relief when he listened at the door and Cat's even breathing continued. Enamored as he was with her the last thing he wanted at the moment was for her to wake up.

He took the stairs to the roof without knowing why he was going. The urge to get out and breathe in the fresh air was so palpable that he nearly cried out with relief when he stepped out onto the roof. A cold wind took his breath away and he shivered in his thick sweater. His shoes crunched on the gravelly surface as he wandered around, taking in the lights of the city. As he rounded the corner of the rooftop air conditioner he saw the glow of a cigarette in the darkness and stopped. His eyes adjusted and he saw it was Calandra.

Calandra. Sitting on the roof leaning against the AC smoking a cigarette and sipping out of a bottle. He slid down to sit next to her without a word and accepted the bottle when she offered it to him. Thinking how coincidental it was that the one person he had wanted to see was the person he found, he sought her hand and sighed at the way it fit perfectly in his palm. The bottle contained alcohol and he took a sip, hissing at the burn that slid down his throat.

"I'm sorry." The words burst from his mouth just as he heard her sniffle. He realized she was crying and felt a sharp pang in his heart. "I should have... Done shit different. I should have told you about her and how important it was for me to be with her. No one else understands but I think you would--" Justin cut off abruptly when her finger slid over his lips to silence him. He saw the shadow of her head move as she shook it slowly, her hand moving to rest over his heart. Her fingers curled and he tucked the bottle between his legs so he could cover her hand with his. As he did so, he felt her thumb, index finger and pinkie were extended, her middle and ring fingers tucked against his chest. And he remembered learning what that meant when, years before, Lance had shown him a few of the signs for sign language.

I love you.