Casey woke up the next morning feeling foggy. She washed her face, noting how red and puffy her eyes were, and brushed her teeth. When she exited the bathroom JC was still sleeping so after pulling on some workout clothes, she scrawled a quick note and left it on the nightstand. After grabbing the rest of what she needed, she took the elevator down to the main floor and followed the signs that led her to the hotel’s gym.

The room was blessedly empty, and after slipping her headphones over her ears and choosing a playlist, Casey stepped onto the treadmill in the back corner of the room. She programmed it for a steady jog, and began to move. Chicago house was her favorite music to work out to, and with the steady thump of the bass in her ear, the rhythmic fall of her feet on the machine, her head began to clear.

JC was a perfect distraction, that’s what she told herself in the beginning. A perfect sexy distraction. Their mutual physical attraction was what kept them coming back for more. Ease of access was how she explained their shared bed night after night. But she knew, even while she tried to deny it to herself and everyone else, that there was more to it.

At first JC was something of an enigma, a puzzle she was determined to figure out. Onstage he was energy personified. The music started and he was a volcanic eruption, or a live wire. But offstage he was generally the polar opposite. He was laid-back, shy even. He radiated cool, calm, collectedness. Sometimes she asked him questions, the most random and occasionally off-the-wall things she could think of just to get a reaction out of him. But his reaction was always the same: complete calm. The one time she'd seen him angry was after a phone call, the details of which he didn't care to elaborate on.

There were things he got riled up about though, and Casey loved listening to him when he was excited about something. There was something wonderful about the way his eyes danced and his hands moved. The fact that he had a tendency to ramble. She enjoyed the glimpses she got of who he was beneath the surface. The person he was onstage that sometimes came to life privately.

There’d been a shift between them. They didn’t talk about it, but even without acknowledging it verbally, it was obvious to both of them that things were different. Even before he took the lead in labeling their relationship.

It was in the way that he kissed her, in the way that he touched her. It was in the way he looked at her, when he didn’t know she was paying attention. It was the dark chocolate she mentioned to him once, and the fact that he left it for her in all sorts of unexpected places.

There was also the book.

She picks up the rectangular item from the bed. It's a pristine hardcover copy of her favorite book by her favorite author: Stephen King's The Stand. "JC?" she calls.

He appears, leaning casually against the frame of the bathroom door, blues eyes sparkling.

Her eyes flit to his. "What's this?" She holds the book up in his direction.

He approaches her slowly and slides next to her on the bed. "Looks like a book," he replies, smiling.

She rolls her eyes with a goodnatured grin. "Thanks for clarifying that for me. What I mean is, why's it here?"

He leans in close, his lips whispering right up against her ear. "Have you opened it up?"

Casey opens the book and there, on the inside cover, partially obscured by the paper flap, are handwritten words.

Casey, congratulations on this new chapter of your life. All the best, Stephen King.

Her eyes slowly raise from the book to meet his. "JC...how did you...?" The question hangs and her eyes are wide.

He shrugs nonchalantly. "Lance knows people who know people. I told him your favorite book was in pretty bad shape and he helped me take care of it." His grin is wide, happy.

Casey runs her fingers over the words inside the cover before closing it and setting it next to her. "This is," she begins, swiveling toward him and sliding her arms around his neck, "the coolest, sweetest, most awesome thing, ever. Thank you." She registers the blush that's risen to his cheeks and the satisfaction on his face before she brings her lips to his.

Tendrils of perspiration trailed down her skin, but she wiped her brow and increased the speed on the machine.  

JC always managed to find ways to communicate to her that she occupied his thoughts in a meaningful way. If it hadn’t been evident before, it was obvious in the way he handled her meltdown after Tony. She couldn’t believe the way she’d cried before sex, after sex. During sex. She’d never done that before with anyone and it embarrassed the hell out of her. The fact that he was so tender had made her sob even harder.

She’d cried herself out the night before, and JC, with his sweet words and gentle caresses, simply let her. When she’d finally stopped he didn’t ask her any more questions, simply poured her a glass of water, placed a cool towel over her forehead, and stayed next to her. She closed her eyes and eventually he did as well; she was still awake when he fell asleep, still holding her hand. She’d turned over and watched him sleep for a good twenty minutes, her thoughts a jumble.

Somewhere over the months, she found herself missing him when a string of nightly performances in different cities kept them from spending extended time together. When something funny happened on her bus, she couldn’t wait to get to the next place so she could share it with him. Her friends and family teased her about how often his name came up in conversation as of late, and she couldn’t deny that his name was often on the tip of her tongue.

And although spending time with him, just the two of them, had become one of her favorite things to do, she loved watching him interact with his bandmates almost as much. When the cameras weren’t rolling, and there were no flashing lights and screaming fans, when his guard was down, and he could be one hundred percent his authentic self with the guys he called his brothers...that was her second favorite way to see him.

She loved how easy they all were together, the fact that were no egos. They had inside jokes, and they loved to tease each other. They all took the gentle ribbing from the others in stride. She’d heard JC say in interviews that he felt lucky because he got to do his favorite thing in the world with four of his favorite people. She envied that a bit; she had her dancers, but it wasn’t quite the same. But she loved it too, for him. And the fact that, once she became part of his life, the other guys welcomed her into their world with open arms. They’d been friendly toward her from the beginning, and she’d clicked with Justin from the moment she met him. But after she and JC became a thing, it was somehow deeper.

But no matter how excited and happy she was about the way things were progressing with JC, Tony lurked just below the surface. JC was so different than Tony, and the details of their relationship were so different. And even though she pushed the thought away every time it threatened to surface, what she felt for JC was certainly different. But the way things started with JC were so similar to the way things started with Tony. And if his book got published before Dara and the powers that be at the label could stop it, then what? What would JC think of her then? Would everything she thought he felt for even matter then?

And that thought, along with the realization of how much she felt for him--how much it felt like everything she wasn’t ready to feel--scared the everloving shit out of her.

Casey caught movement out of the corner of her eye and, without slowing down, looked over her left shoulder. She smiled when she saw Mike standing next to the treadmill.

“Hey,” she said, pushing her headphones down.

“Hey,” he echoed.

She decreased the speed of the machine to a slow trot. “What’s up? Is everything OK?”

“That’s what I came to ask you,” he replied with a pointed look. “I heard Tony showed up yesterday.”

Casey rolled her eyes and shut off the treadmill. She jumped down and walked over to a shelf stacked high with towels. Mike followed her over as she wiped her face and neck.

“Casey,” he began.

“Yeah, he showed up,” she said shortly. “He came, he left. Everything’s peachy.”

He stared at her for a moment. “I also heard you punched him in the face.”

A small smile came to her lips. “Nothing stays secret on tour, huh?”

“How’s your hand?”

She glanced down at it and shrugged. It was a bit sore actually, but with everything else on her mind she’d given it little thought. “It’s fine.”

Mike nodded. “Bruce says Dara’s working on getting a restraining order.”  

With a small sound of annoyance she filled a cup with water from the room’s cooler.

He followed her and continued. “Makes sense though, don’t you think? Since this is the second time he’s just showed up out of nowhere; he’s basically stalking you.”

“He’s doing shit just to get a reaction out of me. And I gave him one, so…” Casey made a face. “I just want him to leave me the hell alone,” she mumbled.

Mike touched her shoulder. “Casey, are you sure you’re OK?”

She jerked away from him. “Mike, I swear I’m going to fight the next person who asks me if I’m OK,” she yelled.

He stared back at her wide-eyed, saying nothing.

“I’m fine! I’ve been fine. I’m not fragile and I’m not broken and…” She trailed off and groaned.

She tossed her water cup in the trash and took a deep breath. “I appreciate that you care; I really do. I love you for it, all of you. But the quicker everyone stops asking me how I am, the better I’ll be.”

He blinked slowly, his expression watchful. “Whatever you say, Case.”

“I’ll see you later.” With that she left the gym, leaving Mike standing there.

***

When Casey entered the hotel room JC was on his knees in front of his suitcase. He looked up at her, took in her peevish expression, and bit back the urge to ask how she was feeling. “How was your workout?” he asked instead.

She grunted and kicked off her shoes. “I broke a sweat, so good enough I guess. I need a shower.”

He tried to watch her inconspicuously as she took off her workout clothes. Her movements were jerky, her face still a mask of annoyance.

“Dara called you. A few times in a row,” he said. “I answered after the third time and told her you were in the gym. I hope that’s OK.“

“It’s fine.” Casey tugged her hair out of the elastic holding it and chucked it to the floor. “How’d she sound?” She knelt down to rummage through her travel bag.

“Worried, mostly.” JC stood up and leaned against the bathroom door. “She asked how you were. After you saw him.”

She paused in the motion of picking clothes out of her suitcase, her back to her. “What’d you tell her?” she asked softly.

He inhaled deeply and crossed to where she was bent over. He sat down next to her, placing a hand on her back. “I told her you have a mean right hook.” He leaned in close and kissed her cheek.

Casey smiled and rested her head on his shoulder.

“Speaking of…” JC gently took her her hands in his and inspected the one she’d used to punch Tony. Three of her knuckles were red and slightly swollen. “Does it hurt?”

She wrinkled her nose, clenching and unclenching her fist. “A little. It was worth it, though.”

“I’ll bet,” he laughed. “Come here, Muhammad Ali, Jr.”

JC pulled her up and brought her over to the desk where the ice bucket was. He plunged her hand into the filled bucket.

“Shit, that’s cold!” she gasped.

“Ice usually is, baby. Keep it there for a little while; it’ll take the swelling down.”

She grumbled under her breath but kept her hand in the ice.

“You could’ve broken it, you know,” he said mildly.

She frowned. “But I didn’t.”

“Case…” he inhaled.

“JC, don’t. Please.” She stared down at her hand in the bucket, refusing to meet his gaze.

“You don’t even know what I was about to say.”

“If it’s some variation of ‘are you sure you’re OK, Casey?’ then please don’t. “

He laughed shortly. “OK…what about last night, then? Can we talk about that?”

She sighed. “Listen, I’m sorry I kinda fell apart on you. Twice. I can promise you that won’t happen again.”

He took her chin in his hand and tilted her head back. “Last night was the most honest I’ve seen you in...maybe ever. Don’t apologize for that.”

She flinched at his words but said nothing.

JC groaned in frustration; the wall was back up and she still wouldn’t look at him. He kissed her forehead and dropped his hands. “Casey, you make things way more complicated than they need to be.” His voice was soft, non-judgmental.

“Has my hand been in here long enough? I think I’m getting frostbite.”

Whatever he’d hoped to accomplish by bringing up the previous night wasn’t going to happen. He sighed again. “Yeah, but it probably needs to be looked at later. Just in case.”

She pulled her hand out of the ice and inspected it. “I think some of the swelling’s gone down already.”

“That’s good, baby.” He nodded. He wasn’t satisfied with her abrupt change and not-so-subtle dismissal of the subject, but he didn’t have the time or energy to force it.

“I’ll probably be gone by the time you get out of the shower,” he said, glancing at his watch. “I’ll look for you backstage later.”

Casey grabbed underwear from her suitcase before turning to wink at him. “‘K, babe. See you later.”

***

JC asked her to ride his bus again after the final show in Los Angeles, just until they got to Sacramento, and Casey agreed without hesitation. The yes came out of her mouth quickly enough that it shocked even her, but it put a smile on his face, and that made her happy.

It had been the kind of day that made her want to spend most of the evening drinking, and the prospect of curling up on the bus for a few hours with no one asking her questions or handling her with kid gloves was a welcome one.

Mike, Lawrence, and Jasmine had tip-toed around her during soundcheck that afternoon. No one mentioned Tony, which she was thankful for, but way they all looked at her--as if she were a couple of minutes from a meltdown--made her irrationally angry. Everett stopped her backstage to let her know that all pertinent staff and crew had been alerted that if anyone saw Tony, they were to call the cops immediately. And as she wandered around in the hours before the show, she kept catching people looking after her questioningly.

Prior to her performance Dara showed up in her dressing room not altogether unexpectedly. With the exception of sending her manager a text message earlier in the day, she’d avoided all contact with her. Dara was none too happy about that when she showed up to address the previous evening with Tony. Still, the conversation had been relatively brief. Casey assured her that she was OK, and Dara confirmed that there was no news on the book. There was also a brief but intense argument about the possibility of increasing her security temporarily.

The bus had just pulled away when Casey and JC settled into the corner of the wraparound couch in the back lounge. She curled herself into him, resting her head and one hand on his chest. She smiled when the sound of his yawn rumbled against her.

“Bet you’re asleep before we even make it outside city limits,” she laughed.

“Mmm,” he sighed into her hair. He tightened his arm around her. “That’s a fool’s bet. I’m pretty sure I’m gonna be asleep in the next thirty seconds.”

She closed her eyes and was thinking that she would be as well, when she heard someone shuffle into the room. She looked toward the doorway when Chris cleared his throat.

“So, I think we should lay some ground rules,” he said with a gleam in his eye.

JC grunted but kept his eyes closed.

“Ground rules?” Casey’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Like what?”

Chris sighed heavily and leaned against the doorway. “I’m not saying that sex never happens on a tour bus. And anyone who’s toured with Joey can attest to the fact that sex can, and often does, happen in all sorts of unexpected places.”

She snorted. “I’m pretty sure JC’s already asleep, and I plan to be right behind him. I’m a thousand percent sure that no sex is happening here tonight.”

She yawned as if to emphasize her point, and when her eyes opened again, she was suddenly blinded by a white light. “What the hell?” She blinked rapidly, rubbing her eyes, until her vision cleared.

Justin had joined Chris in the doorway holding a camera. “You two crazy kids just looked so gosh darn cute,” he drawled, a goofy smile on his face. “I had to snap a picture.”

“They are pretty cute like that, aren’t they?” Chris agreed, nodding at him. “I came to tell her the rules.”

“You mean like no sex on the bus where other people can see or hear?” Justin asked.

“Well, I was getting to that when you took the picture,” the brunette explained.

“Joey never follows that rule.” Justin seemed to be in deep thought for a moment.

Chris clicked his tongue. “There’s a lot of rules Joey doesn’t follow.”

“Guys, JC is literally snoring,” Casey interjected, looking between Justin and Chris. “I assure you that there’s not going to be any sex. And I’d really like it if you’d leave so I can go to sleep.”

“I didn’t go over all of the ru--”

“Chris, get out,” she interrupted.

“That’s fine,” he muttered, backing out of the room. “But if you’re going to be on the bus with us, we’re going to have to discuss this in depth later.” With that he turned and walked back through the doorway.

Justin remained where he was, watching Casey with a neutral expression.

“What?” she asked when he didn’t say anything.

“Since I’m not allowed to ask you if you’re OK I figured I would stand here until I could see it for myself.” He shrugged.

She rolled her eyes. “Go to sleep, Justin; it’s late.”

“I will in a minute.” He nodded. “He’s worried about you, you know.”

“He doesn’t need to be,” she replied defiantly.

“I think that’s a matter of opinion, shorty.” He shrugged again. “See you in a few hours.”

Casey stared after him and several minutes went by before she finally closed her eyes and settled back against a sound-asleep JC.