Disclaimer: Do I still need to do a disclaimer? Does anyone know? I feel stupid claiming that I don't own BTR when the show hasn't been on for awhile. But whatever. I don't own them, thanks for listening.

Candice: Thank you! I'm glad you enjoyed it, and thank you for reviewing! :)

A/N: This chapter has been a long time coming - in more ways than one. I had planned to update back in July or August, said I was going to, and then I didn't. So I'm sorry. But here is chapter 16 :) I hope you guys enjoy it! And of course, please review! Oh, and quick warning: There's some sexual references and a sexual situation at the end, but nothing terribly graphic.

Chapter Sixteen

Katie's POV

The next few days were not my definition of fun. Things were stiff and tense between James and me. Resentment, anger, and hurt rolled off of him in waves, while I was sad and confused. It wasn't like he still had feelings for me. He hadn't had them since high school. So why was he so upset about the idea of a one night stand with me? Had it ruined his ideas about me being a good girl? No, that couldn't be it. He was the kind of guy who would love to corrupt a girl and ruin her for all other men. But the only reason he would ever want more than just a hookup with me was that he did have feelings for me. And that would complicate everything so much more, because then I would finally have to untangle my feelings for him. And that'd be worse than untangling Christmas lights.

Camille's bachelorette party was fun, complete with cake, booze, and a male stripper. I'd gone half heartedly shopping for her on Amazon a couple weeks before the party and ended up buying her some platform heels that would look fabulous with lingerie.

"Thanks, Katie!" she crowed, hugging me and kissing my cheek, her breath reeking of tequila. "You're the bestest!"

I didn't feel like I was the bestest. I didn't feel like I was the best at anything. The only thing in my life that was going right at the moment was work. Ms. Benton was an amazing boss, and as long as I hit my word count and made sure that my articles sparkled with personality and intelligence, I could work either at the office or at home. I usually chose the office, though, because being at home meant I might run into James. And running into James was not fun. I hated how painfully polite he was towards me. I missed his smartass remarks and flirty quips. I missed him. And I hated it.

"Logan's going to love these," Camille added, and I blinked. Wait. What? Logan?

"You mean Steve."

She blinked. "Right. Steve. My fiancé. Who I love so much. Though he's no Logan."

"No…But isn't that kind of the point?"

"Yes. But I miss Logan." She pouted sadly. "There's no one else like him out there."

Thinking about him showing up at my apartment when I was trying to get down and dirty with James, I nodded affectively. "That is so very true."

"Steve's perfect but he doesn't do anything like Logan. He doesn't spontaneously show up at my work with flowers because he was passing by the florist and the flowers reminded him of me. He doesn't buy me Oreos and then lecture me about how bad they are. He doesn't make me burnt waffles. His waffles are golden brown and I hate them! And he's friends with your ex, Preston Gates! Preston is such a prick!" she wailed.

No shit. This just got better and better. I straightened up. "How's Steve in bed?"

She would never remember this conversation, so I could finally find out if my little theory was correct.

"He doesn't believe in sex before marriage!" She buried her face in her arms, sobbing.

I patted her back. I knew Camille and Logan had had a very…ahem…interesting sex life before splitting up. I could only imagine how Camille had taken to the idea that she had to wait until marriage to sleep with her fiancé. No wonder she was so miserable all the time.

"That's…um…good for him."

"I miss Logan." She hiccupped. "But don't tell Steve. I love Steve."

"Of course you do."

"He's my fiancé. How could I not love him?"

"I mean, really."

"I really do love him."

"Mmm hmm."

"But he drives me nuts!"

"You could call off the wedding," I suggested, praying fervently she really wouldn't remember this conversation tomorrow. She'd kill me otherwise.

"I can't do that! I'm marrying Steve! I have to!"

"Why?"

"Because – because – " Her eyes trailed to the stripper. He was dressed up as a doctor, but he was dancing right out of his scrubs. "Because Steve isn't Logan."

After that it was impossible to get anything more out of her. She was completely smashed a half hour later, and the other girls weren't much better.

I left the bachelorette party a little early. I was the only one still sober and I didn't feel like sticking around to see whether or not Lucy managed to convince the stripper to take off his costume briefs.

I was hoping James would be asleep when I walked into the apartment at midnight, but he was still sprawled out on the couch, watching TV. He sat up and muted the TV. I hoped that meant he was going to start acting normal again and not like we were strangers on the street. Being a stranger with him was exhausting.

"How was the bachelorette party?" he asked me. "You guys get a stripper?"

I nodded. "A doctor. Complete with a stethoscope and a doctor's kit."

"How cute. I think Camille has a doctor kink."

"Probably." I sat next to him, and he scooted over as far away from me as he could, as if I had a contagious skin eating disease that he was hoping wouldn't affect him. With a small sigh, I kicked my heels off and massaged my feet. "But Camille got trashed and admitted she misses Logan. She claims to love Steve because he's her fiancé and how could she not, but she really wants Logan. And she and Steve haven't slept together because Steve doesn't believe in sex before marriage."

"Huh. I was considering taking a vow of chastity."

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, good luck with that. Purity rings aren't your cup of tea."

"Neither is being constantly hurt," he shot back, and I recoiled. "Anyway," he continued on, studiously ignoring my reaction, "there's still hope."

"Right. And how are we going to shove her and Logan together? Because reasoning with her doesn't work. She's very much set on marrying Steve. What do you want to do, trap them on the Tunnel of Love and hope for the best?"

"No. You're right, trying to get her and Logan together isn't going to work, not when she's so busy with the wedding. We'll try at the reception to at least do some damage. But if we have to crash the wedding…"

"We aren't actually going to be crashing the wedding! You can't crash a wedding you're invited to!"

"No, but Logan wasn't invited. So we'll sneak him in, and when the pastor says 'speak now or forever hold your peace', he'll stand up and say his bit. And it better be long and heartfelt and everything he should have said a year ago," James added through gritted teeth. "Because I swear to God, if he says, 'I object because I still want to bone you', he's going to have several broken bones. And possibly a concussion."

"Are you just going to beat the shit out of him over the wedding cake, or run him over with your car?" I wanted to know.

"I haven't decided. I'm debating on what I'd rather go to prison for."

"True. Beat the shit out of him at the reception. That way you can claim alcohol. With a hit and run, that's attempted manslaughter."

He raised an eyebrow. "You've thought about this?"

"On the drive home. Camille told me Steve's friends with Preston. So Preston will probably be at the wedding."

"Oh, okay."

I nodded. "Anyway, I guess I'll head to bed."

"Okay. Night."

"Night." I got up but paused. "James?"

"Yeah?"

"Whatever it is I did, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you."

His eyes softened slightly. "I know, Katie. You never do."

I wasn't sure how to respond to that. All I could do was make my way to my bedroom and hope that everything somehow managed to fix itself. Because at this rate, I was going to have to move to Antarctica and raise cats for companionship.

"What's going on?" Ms. Benton asked me the following Friday when she walked into the little space that was my designated office at work. It wasn't much and it was cluttered, but it was nice and neat and I loved it. It was early afternoon and I was eating a sandwich while typing with one hand. "You seemed distracted when I tried to talk to you this morning. Actually, you've been distracted all week."

"Is there a problem with my latest article?" I asked worriedly once I'd swallowed the turkey, cheese, and tomato.

"No, not at all. It was fantastic as always. You're an amazing writer, Katie." She sat down in the chair opposite me at the desk. "You might have a future in fiction, if you ever choose to go that route. No, your article is wonderful. Not even any grammar mistakes. But you seem a little off. I don't know you well, but I do know that you were mostly fine last week. This week you just seem like you have stuff on your mind, and it's not good stuff."

"It's nothing," I mumbled. "Just guy problems. And friend problems."

"Oh?" She raised an eyebrow as I gulped the last bite of my sandwich. "Like what?"

"Does it matter?"

"Well, I was 22 once. Guys and friends can really mess up your life when they give it their best shot. So. What's going on?"

"Let's see. One of my best friends is marrying a total tool because she's still pissed at her ex fiancé, even though they still love each other, and I've been trying to break them up with this guy, who's a total pain in the ass. That would be James Diamond, by the way. He's been a pain in the ass since high school. But he somehow convinced me to break up Camille and Steve so we can get Camille and Logan back together. And Camille told me when she got drunk at her bachelorette party last Friday that she misses Logan. She even hired a male stripper who was dressed like a doctor, which is what Logan is. A doctor, I mean, not a stripper. Then there's the fact that James and I are roommates and almost slept together twice, only then I said something to hurt him, and now he's being nice and polite to me, and it's horrible. And Camille and Steve's rehearsal dinner is tonight and my ex will probably be there since he's friends with Steve. And James wants to wreak havoc at the rehearsal dinner and the wedding and I just want Camille to end up with Logan and for James to stop hating me."

Ms. Benton stared at me for a long moment, before saying, "Honey, I think you need a nice, stiff drink."

"Tell me about it," I groaned.

"Well, I can't help you with the Camille-Steve-Logan love triangle. If Camille and Logan are meant to be, then that's something they're going to have to work out on their own. Now, what exactly did you say to James to upset him?"

I blushed a bright red. I did not want to tell my boss that I'd tried to have a one-off with James Diamond. But she was staring at me unflinchingly, so I gave her a basic layout of the conversation, along with some background information.

"Okay," she said, tapping her long nails against the wood of my desk. "So James had a crush on you in high school, correct?"

I nodded. "Yes."

"And he got hurt because you said you just wanted this to be a physical thing between you two. And then he got offended when you said that that was what you thought you wanted."

"That about sums it up."

"He's in love with you."

I blinked slowly. "Um, what?"

"He's in love with you. Or at the very least he wants more than just sex. He wants a real relationship with you."

"That's not…he's…we're not good for each other. We're not right."

"So? You two drive each other nuts. At least you won't be boring."

"I can't get into a relationship with James Diamond," I insisted. "It's…he's James Diamond! He's hot and the type of guy who can make a girl's panties drop just by winking at her. He's dangerous. And he's everything I shouldn't want but everything I do for some reason. We'd be terrible together."

"But you two are working together to get your friends back together. You haven't killed each other. Seems like if you guys can plot and scheme together, you can be together. Katie," she leaned forward, placing her forearms on the desk and folding her hands. "I knew the moment I saw him look at you that he's in love with you. And I saw it when you looked at him. Why do you think he hated your old boss as much as he did? Because Preston is your ex. He's the guy who had what James wants, for a minute. James isn't perfect, he's made mistakes. I don't know details, but from what you've said, I'm guessing he's been a bit of a player in the past. But you've made mistakes as well. And you two are on this roller coaster ride together, and now you have to decide if you want to get off at Camille and Steve's wedding, or stay on it with him for the next ride."

"The idea of being with him…I hated him so much in high school. He was everything I didn't want. He was a player. He didn't really take school seriously. He loved sports. He was good at math and science. He was a smartass fuckhead who made me want to punch him on a daily basis. He still makes me want to punch him on a daily basis. And caring about him…loving him…we've wasted so much time."

"It's not time wasted, Katie. It's time that you both used to grow and mature and experience life. And now you use that growth and maturity and life experience. And you're only 22. You're not exactly ancient." Her lips twitched. "I've married twice. The first one was a huge learning experience for me. My second husband is my lifelong best friend. It was only in the last five years that we began to realize that maybe we weren't as platonic as we thought we were. And that's okay. We're together, we're strong, and we're very much in love. And maybe that's what Camille's doing," she added. "Maybe this thing with Steve is a learning experience for her. Maybe you're all in the middle of a learning experience and you'll come out of it smarter and wiser and stronger than before." She rose to her feet. "I'll leave you to your work, Katie. But think about what I said. And remember," she added, "just because something isn't rational doesn't mean it isn't right. Because sometimes what you think you should do and what you should actually do are two different things. You thought you should stay at the Chronicles, but now you're working here, and you seem happy enough, except for some outside drama. You thought you should date Preston Gates, but he turned out to be a douchebag. But you didn't want to stay at the Chronicles. You didn't want to date Preston Gates. You do want to date James Diamond. Sometimes doing the safest thing isn't the right thing. Sometimes you need to take a risk, Katie. You took a risk when you quit the Chronicles. Take a risk with James. Who knows? You might be surprised." And with that she left my office.

That evening, Camille and Steve's wedding party, closest friends, and family piled into the church where they were holding the wedding. It was a different church than the one Camille and Logan had booked the year before, but I still couldn't shake the distinctly sad feeling of nostalgia.

The wedding rehearsal went off without a hitch, though that was because I wasn't wearing heels and James wasn't my escort down the aisle. In fact, he didn't even make a comment about my height, which made me even sadder. I couldn't freaking believe I would miss the midget jokes, but it just didn't feel right without him suggesting I wear stilts.

However, I did hear Preston, who was sitting in one of the pews with Courtney, call me a bitch as I walked past him with my bouquet of flowers. I ignored him, pasting a fake smile on my face. James, who was sitting on the opposite side, narrowed his eyes at Preston. Other than that, I had absolutely no interaction with either of them.

At last the rehearsal was done, and the dinner began. James, Stephanie, Carlos, Jo, Kendall, Lucy, and I were all seated at the same table. Dinner was just a bunch of dishes different people had brought – barbecued chicken, macaroni and cheese, beef stroganoff, roasted potatoes, and some sort of green bean casserole that none of us really wanted to touch because it looked like it might be laced with something.

"I hope the food's better tomorrow," Stephanie commented as she poked at the beef stroganoff.

"Choice between chicken and fish," I told her, wrinkling my nose. I wasn't a huge fan of fish unless it was prepared just so, and I could be a little funny about chicken as well. I preferred beef or seafood for the most part, unless it was chicken yakisoba. That was the main exception.

"Yeah, goody. Why couldn't they just do a buffet like everyone else? Why'd they have to make it so damn fancy?"

"Where are they going on their honeymoon, anyway?" Jo wanted to know.

"Niagara Falls," Lucy replied. "Can you believe it? That is so unoriginal."

"I bet it was Steve's idea," I muttered.

"Probably," Stephanie nodded. "Seems like something he'd want to do."

"Shoot me now," James mumbled. "Look who's coming our way."

Preston and Courtney had apparently been seated at the table next to ours. I hoped they choked on their food.

Preston shot a smirk at me. "So, are you out on the street yet? Now that you don't have a job to support yourself? I mean, who else would hire you?"

"Actually, I'm writing for Show & Tell now," I informed him briskly.

"Really. You sleep with the editor there, too?"

"She was hired based off of her talent, skills, and résumé," James broke in. "The pay's better, she's getting better stories, and she no longer has to deal with your bullshit."

I stared at him. He was pissed at me, yet he was defending me to Preston. What the hell? Couldn't he make up his mind about whether he hated me or not?

"At one point she loved dealing with my bullshit," Preston retorted.

"Actually, I never really did. I only dated you because you were safe," I told him. "Turns out I should've just saved myself the trouble."

"Just as well. You were a lousy lay, anyway."

My eyes nearly popped out of my head at the hypocrisy of the statement. "I was a lousy lay? I was?! You were a limp dicked selfish bastard who only cared about getting off. I could've been a sex dummy for all the good it did me! In fact, that's what I'm getting you for Christmas. A sex dummy."

Preston shrugged. "Whatever. You're a bitch, anyway. I should've fired you when I had the chance."

I don't think he even saw James' fist fly out of nowhere. I know I didn't. But the next thing any of us knew, Preston was on the floor, clutching his nose, and James was shaking out his hand and standing over Preston's body. I jumped to my feet, partly to check on James' hand, and partly to get a couple of good kicks in while Preston was helpless. Preston moaned something about his nose being broken and needing a hospital.

"If you ever call Katie a bitch again, you won't be needing a hospital," James growled, and stormed out of the reception hall.

Everyone stared at me and I waved a hand at them. "Show's over, folks! Goodnight!" And then I rushed out after James.

I found him in the parking lot, pulling his keys out of his jeans pocket.

"Come on," I said. "Let's go home and get some ice on your hand."

The drive home was silent. We wordlessly headed up to the apartment. I unlocked the door and walked in. I locked back up and headed into the kitchen where I fished a crystallized bag of peas out of the freezer. I wrapped it in a towel and passed it to James, who slapped it on his hand. From the quick peek of his knuckles that I'd glimpsed, his hand was swollen and bruising, though I expected it was nothing compared to Preston's nose. I hoped it really was broken. Asshole.

"Nice punch," I finally said after a long moment of us leaning against the kitchen counter. "I don't think Preston even knew what hit him. Uh, so to speak."

"Thanks." He adjusted the bag of peas and winced slightly. "That was kind of the idea."

"Yeah. Um." I licked my lips, trying to figure out what to say next. "I don't get it."

"Don't get the idea of punching someone? The idea is to hit someone before they can hit you first."

"No. I mean, I don't get why you did it."

James stared at me like I had lost my mind. "He called you a bitch. And he said a lot of shit about you."

"You've called me a bitch before."

"Yeah, but I'm the only one allowed to. And I don't really mean it. You're not actually a bitch. I mean, you have your moments, but you're not. You're just…you're Katie."

"But…you're mad at me, which I still don't get. Why would you defend me to Preston?"

"Why do you think?"

I threw my hands in the air in exasperation. "I don't know! That's why I'm asking!"

"Because I'm in love with you! For fuck's sake, Katie, I've been in love with you since I was 17!"

"You said that was just a crush," I said numbly. "You said you were over it."

"I lied. Look, if we're done here – "

"No. We're not." I blocked the kitchen's only exit. It wasn't super effective, but he had a bag of peas on one hand so I figured I had a slight advantage. "You don't get to tell me that you're in love with me and then try to walk away. It doesn't work that way." Ms. Benton's words reverberated in my head like echoes in a cave. She had been right. Everyone had been right. And I had been the only one too blind to see.

"What do you want me to say, Katie? That I'm sorry? Because I'm not. Loving you isn't the most fun thing in the world, believe me. You're a royal pain in the ass. You've hated my guts, which you're not shy about telling me. You fucked Preston Gates, who's the biggest douchebag in the world. That was supposed to be me. It was always supposed to be me. Every time I think I'm over you, I somehow wind up back in your life. Being in love with you is at times the most painful thing I can imagine, but I don't regret it. I'm not sorry. Why should I be sorry when it's how I feel? I tried for so fucking long to get over you. But I've finally accepted that it's just not going to happen. You're all I want, and maybe someday that will change. But it won't be today."

"I'm not asking you to apologize. I just – " My eyes drifted down to his hand. He had punched Preston Gates for me. All because Preston had called me a bitch. I didn't know anyone else who would do that for me. I didn't know anyone who I could treat so ruthlessly and they would still defend me without a second thought. I didn't know anyone who had tried so hard to get me away from such a bad environment as the Chronicles. I didn't know anyone else who had come running to my aid every time I got myself into trouble, no questions asked. I didn't know anyone else who put up with my bullshit and gave me theirs in turn. I didn't know anyone else who drove me so insane, and who I drove so insane right back. Because James was every bit as passionate as I was. And he was just as scared as I was of getting hurt. And maybe my head was just spinning because he had punched out Preston. That had been pretty hot. But my feelings for him had gotten so tangled over the past few weeks, and they were just now beginning to unravel themselves. I didn't know what was going to happen between us. But I did know that I felt for James passionately. Maybe I wasn't quite as deeply in love with him as he was with me, but how could I be? He'd had years. I'd only had a few weeks to realize my feelings. But everything had been right in front of my nose this entire time and I hadn't wanted to see it. I hadn't wanted to admit that I had feelings for him because of the risk involved. But fact of the matter was that living safely wasn't working for me.

"What?" His eyes searched my face.

"That's why you got so upset about the hookup thing. Because no matter what you've implied in the past, you don't want a hookup with me. You want a real relationship."

"It really took you two weeks to figure that out?"

"Fine. So I'm not good at figuring out guys. Or myself. Or anyone else in general. But I have a confession to make."

"What?"

"I'm not really the hookup type. I only – maybe this is a fatal attraction, I don't know. But this has been a long time coming. And I'm tired of playing it safe. You're right. I need to take a risk. And you're a risk, but maybe you're worth taking."

"Wow, thanks." He rolled his eyes and tossed the peas on the counter. "Sorry, little one, but a maybe isn't going to cut it. I'm not going to be your bad boy." He pushed past me, but I grabbed his wrist.

"I don't want you to be my bad boy," I growled. "I'm trying to tell you that I want you. That maybe I'm falling in love with you, too."

"Maybe?" He yanked free and headed towards the bathroom.

"James! Ugh! Why do you have to be so fucking stubborn?!" I stomped my foot and took a running leap, landing on his back. He let out an indignant yelp.

"What the fuck?!"

"Read my lips, dumbass. I'm trying to tell you something."

"How can I read your lips when you're on my back?"

I leaned forward, pressing my lips to his ear. "I'm. In. Love. With. You. There is no maybe about this. I'm in love with you, and I'm sick and tired of pretending that I'm not. Either we're going to do this or we're not, but you better make up your mind, because I'm not the only one taking a risk here, either. So, I guess the question is: Am I worth the risk?"

"Get off my back."

"Rude!"

"Please," he growled out.

I hopped off his back and stepped in front of him. We looked at each other for a long moment, and then I reached up and yanked his face down, meeting his lips eagerly with mine. His arms encircled my waist and I leaned into his embrace. He sighed, cupping my face with his hands and deepening the kiss. It was sweet and gentle and romantic, and nothing that I ever thought either of us would be able to express in any way. Because neither of us was sweet or gentle or romantic, yet somehow here we were.

He pulled back after a moment, and I took his hands in mine. "Third time's the charm, right?"

"Are you sure?" His eyes strayed towards my bedroom door.

"Positive."

I all but dragged him into my bedroom. This time it was me kicking the door closed, and then I was pushing him on my bed and climbing on top. I kissed him again and again and again until I thought I might explode from pleasure and need and desire. He pulled away from my mouth and began to press kisses over my jaw and down my neck. I slid my hands under his t-shirt, feeling the hard ridges of his abs. It was just like the night Logan had shown up at my apartment, drunk, only so much better because this time we were on an actual bed with actual feelings and if anyone interrupted us I was going to beat their asses.

His t-shirt came off, and then my shirt did as well. I undid his jeans and he flipped us over so that he was on top. "You know," he said, kissing his way down to my cleavage, "this isn't exactly how I pictured our first time together."

I pulled back. "What do you mean?"

"I never thought my hand would be bruised and swollen from punching your ex boyfriend in the nose."

I couldn't help but laugh. "It kind of suits our relationship, though, doesn't it?"

"It feels strangely appropriate." He leaned down to kiss me, and I took the opportunity to yank his jeans down. And then he was fumbling with the button and zipper on my jeans, grumbling because they were so small.

"Well, as you like to remind me, I am a midget," I smirked. "And I buy a lot of my jeans from the girls' section."

"You are so fucking tiny," he growled, but finally got my jeans off. "Perfect for throwing around in bed. Perfect for a lot of things."

"Sounds promising."

"It is."

"You're huge and I'm tiny. Complete opposites."

"But you know what they say about opposites attracting."

I hummed as he undid my bra and began exploring my chest with his mouth. "I've heard that once or twice."

His fingers slid down my stomach to the waistband of my panties. His thumb stroked over me through the cotton, and my head fell back as a wave of heat crashed over me. Yeah, that had never happened with Preston. And then he was easing my panties down, and I was shoving his boxers off, and our eyes met. This was happening. And then it really was happening. He found a condom in his wallet and slid it on, and everything else – Logan and Camille, work, my family, life – just seemed to burn away like a fog on a muggy summer morning, until it was just James and me, the feeling of his fingers on me, the way his hips moved against mine, his lips on mine…And it finally sank in that everyone had been right. This was a risk worth taking. He was a risk worth taking. And I was finally taking it. Finally.