"Hey dear, mind passing me my phone? It's been beeping and I'm pretty sure it's Sasha texting." Fray reached out with his soft palm, his fingertips grazing against my bare thighs, sending swishes that should be ignored. Ugh, what a bad day for shorts.

We're on a plane bound for Los Angeles and despite the air hostess's instructions for everyone to put their phone on aeroplane mode or better still tune it completely off, Fray still found a way to sneak it past her eyes and text away. Which could be dangerous, so being the cautious teen that I am, I whipped it from him.

"No," came my response, pushing the phone farther down my coat pockets where he won't dare dip a hand into. Luckily, he remained calm, fingertips grazing once more before retreating. It took all of my fucking willpower not to moan out loud.

"You shouldn't be such an ass Pikachu," he said, sounding strained and tired. Well, I wouldn't blame him, Sasha had kept him hot at work all night, probably fondling with the prize between her legs. Ugh, they made quite a hell of noise. Fray has been her boyfriend for quite some time now that I'm deft with curiosity at the appointed time right for their break-up. I mean, it's not natural for her to keep up with him for this long. Five months of hard work for her I presume.

As I learnt, they'd both met in July at one of those pubs her friends dragged her too and had struck off as quite an item. Talking, gesturing, laughing at dry jokes and before long kissing. They shook up the entire estate with their loud moans and pounding on the bed, having the entire police department at their doorstep at midnight. I don't know why but, the entire story always left me with mixed feelings, maybe partly because I had a crush on Fray too.

Which was saying something for our passions were parallel lines. He was a super hot model who travelled most days to famous cities and ended up looking all sexy at the front pages of glossy magazines while I, the nerdy distinct little brother of his 'Highly-intellectual!' girlfriend is forced to stay back in Forks, reading Shakespeare and babysitting ducks.

Sasha was a great sister alright and as much as I love and respect family, I don't think she's too pricy or special to be with Fray for this long. Aside from being a boy, I was better in all aspects. Soft, handsome, intellectual too and...not to be said out loud but also hot stuff in bed. Quite a surprise she suggested I fly with him to Los Angeles for the shoot. She wasn't so busy and if I were her, I'd never trust my boyfriend going anywhere with my suspicious little brother.

"Thinking about me?" he winked at me, pushing his face up the side of my face as I gasped at the unexpected contact. "What was it this time? My gleamy eyes or the way I turn you on with just a smile?"

Ooh, baby, you have all of me.

"You wish," I scoff, pushing him off me and setting myself straight. If he kept up this sweet, fond dovey way, I might not be able to resist myself from sucking the hell out of those shiny pink lips of his. Gawd, must he be such an Adonis?

I glance back at him to the sun in his cerulean blue eyes, chiselled jaw pulling up into a smile and his pointy nose perfectly engraved into his firm face. Traces of thin stubble lingered on his high-cheekbones.

Pulling my gaze away from him, I look across the aisle to the smooching couple at the other end, not bothered enough to care that they were on a plane and not in their bedroom. The man deepened the kiss, I felt colour filling unto my cheeks and in one brief moment, as I've done countless times at night, I wondered how it'd feel like to have Fray's lips on mine.

"It's not safe to chat while we're on a plane. Try listening to instructions a bit more." I say softly, looking up at his blank expression. If only eyes could melt.

He sighed. "I just wanted to let Sasha know how we're faring. She'd be worried shit about us now. You know how paranoid she is about planes."

"Yes, but still you can do that later. Life first, Sasha next." I say, making him smile.

"Sometimes I don't know which I prefer. The real you or your nerdy self."

"Try both."

"Deal."

"Now have it. I trust you'd do well enough than have me seize it again." I chided, handing his phone over. Being around him just made me feel alert and nervous like he'd get into a lot of trouble and I'll be responsible. So these swift cautions should be taken. I'll die if anything hurts him.

"So, how was high school for you? Did anyone fight or bully you? Did you knock out a lot of skulls or wreck girls?" he huffed out a chuckle at the last part.

Great. He's one of the few guys who still think I'm straight. I can't believe Sasha never told him about it. She probably expected him to take a hint. Which he didn't or did but pretended otherwise.

"Nice. Lonely though." I say absently.

"What? No friends to take you clubbing or bars? Didn't you have fun with your books and the library?"

"If it'd interest you to know young man, I'm a one-man squad. I move along. No mingling and yes, books were my companions. They made up for all those times I'd have been out exposed to different vices in bars." carefully said though which meant I'm learning the lies by heart each time I said them out loud. I didn't want to tell him how completely miserable I was those few years. How depressed and anxious I'd become all because no one wanted to associate with me for fear I'd infect them with the homosexual virus. Another factor which was no help at all was the fact that I crushed on a lot of boys, most of them contributed to making my life a tasteless brunch. I felt despicable.

"That must be boring. Even for you." he snorted in disbelief.

"It was," I gave him a wry smile. "But everything sticks with time and practice. I enjoyed it in the end."

He nodded slowly. "You're good. So, how do you feel about this trip?"

Jubilant! Exhilarated!! I can't believe I get to see you almost totally naked in person this time!!! I wished to yell out loud. The best surprise Sasha had ever given me If only I could say that out loud.

"Great. I'm not really a fan of all this celebrity status thingy."

Truly, I wasn't. My sole intent for this trip was to see him stripped and dripping and that was it. Not the fabulous clicking and buzzing of cameras by magazine photographers. His eyes narrowed as I realize. He probably he'd made a good impression of himself and truthfully he had. But I wasn't one to get so easily.

"You get used to it with time. It's as you said, everything sticks with time and practice." he turned to look out the window.

My chest lurched at his words. He was right. It took time to get over things no matter how bad or good they looked and soon, maybe I'd be able to get over him too.

"It'd be cool to see you pose," I say thoughtfully after a moment's pause. "And I honestly think you're hot in those tight boxers."

Can't believe I said that out loud!

He poked my cheeks fondly, unintentionally instilling heat and colour into them. "You've been stalking me. That's cute."

"No — " I blurt out, glancing anywhere but his eyes as he studied me closely. "Well, I do read a lot of magazines," I say at last, defensively, more colour flooding my cheeks.

"Wow."

This is so embarrassing!

I look out the window, wanting to crawl into a hole. He doesn't notice how awkward this seems because he just keeps smiling like everything's okay. Nothing's fine, I have a crush on him. An attraction that messed up things on so many levels. Sasha had him move back to Forks permanently and since then, even though we never saw each other that much, he was a constant part of my crappy existence.

I'd long for the smell of his aftershave for days and when eventually he came around, the smell lingered in the air, filling the empty void around my heart like a drug I've been deprived of. He was always nice to me and didn't make me feel horrible or useless, always wanting to know if I needed anything or anyone troubling me. He took me as a younger brother which I thought was great until the view changed the day I turned sixteen.

"Are you okay?" He filled up space between us, his right hand falling on my cold thighs as he searched my face for an expression. "You look tense."

I took a large breath and lifted my eyes to him.

"I've been stalking you too," he said quietly. "And it's always the same stuff I find out. Done with grad school. Bookaholic. Shy. Nervous..."

"That stuff isn't on google." I pointed out in panic. Oh Gawd, what else did he find out apart from these?

"Not Google. Your Facebook account. It's really tidy if I must confess."

"Oh," was all I could say, blushing stupidly.

"Yeah, everyone does that right?" he pulled his hand away and there it was, I swear it was there for only a moment. That fleeting embarrassment as a light blush spreads across his cheeks. I couldn't have imagined it.

"Yeah. Tell me about your job. Do you like it?"

"Kinda. It's all fun and dash. I'm pretty much hot stuff and everyone wants a piece of me which I'm willing to give if you agree to my terms." he winked and I wondered at the last part. What were the terms I needed to date him, or if ever, kiss him? It can't be much I suppose...

And then realization dawns. If only I was a girl.

Unlucky me.

I agree with him being hot stuff because damn, who would turn down a jaw that chiselled and lips so gloriously pink? Anyone deserving an asylum that is, he was just perfect.

And the fact that his fame never changed him stood out in all his features. He was pretty much the same person I've always known. Modest, calm, charming... Sasha's one lucky bitch.

"That's damn lucky," I say quietly, my mind going places. He must have met a lot of girls. Fancy sluts who wanted a shot with his dick apart from Sasha and he could let them with her ever knowing. If he didn't give them a chance, how much more me?

Silence settled between us as did everyone around us. Lots were dozing or talking quietly. I felt a strange peace settle in my being.

"I never heard from you," he said so suddenly that I jolted out of my daydreaming.

"Pardon?" I sounded nerve-wracking.

"You had my number," he stared deep into my eyes and it felt as if he could look into my soul. "You never checked up to see if I was doing fine. You didn't think me important enough." with the way hurt mixed well with his words, I was left stunned.

He expected me to...call.

I pale at this revelation. He was hoping, anticipating me to reach out. To assure him it'd be alright. To comfort him when he felt down spirited and I just sat back at home thinking he was probably having the time of his life, posing and filling magazine covers with his well-crafted figure.

"I-I-I'm," I inhaled slowly and forced the words out. "I'm so sorry."

"Hey, it's okay. It's not your fault, you were probably busy or reading," he says modestly. "I wouldn't want to be a bug."

"No, it'd have been fine. I should've called."

He shrugged. "If you say so."

I tried to count the number of times Fray had smirked or brushed his hand against my thighs. How many times he'd held my waist and tickled the life out of me. How many times we'd been so close to kissing... were these all signals? Did he do it intentionally?

Somewhere buried in my ruminations, I felt a deep rumble above and a jolt which hauled us backwards into the soft leather. It took a minute to deduce that the plane was having casualties.

"Don't panic. Stay tight and let us do our jobs. No one should move about — " the air-hostess trailed off as the plane touched the railway, ran a few metres and came to a halt.

We weren't in Los Angeles.