I'm waiting outside of the locker room as Sid walks out freshly showered.
"You were amazing out there babe!" I say quickly, not realizing what I just called him for the first time.
"Babe, huh?" he smiles smugly.
Swiftly he picks me up and holds me against the wall. He confidently kisses me without hesitation. Not even looking around to see if anyone is watching. I've never seen this dominant side of him before, it scares me for a second as I'm reminded of my past with Kyle.
My body must have tensed up, because Sid stops and gently puts me down.
"I'm sorry. Wins get me a little too pumped, I need to calm down," he furrows his eyebrows in guilt.
"No, I'm sorry. There's nothing wrong with that, I'm just a little sensitive with what happened with Kyle and stuff."
"And I should be aware of that. I'm a terrible boyfriend."
"Wait, what?" I say in a bit of a shock.
Sid awkwardly scratches the back of his neck, "uh what I meant was.... uh I mean.... I shouldn't have called myself that... we've only been on one da-"
I cut him off with my giggling, "it's ok. I get it."
He smiles, but still looks embarrassed.
"Well are we gonna go celebrate or what? Where are the rest of the guys going?" I say quickly while taking his hand.
Before he can even answer I say with a wink, "and for the record, you're a great boyfriend."

---

Holding Sid's toned shoulder, I stumble next to him as we make our way down the hotel hallway to our room. I'm super tired and a bit tipsy, while he seems fine. I noticed that all the guys got smashed except Sid, it made me wonder if he doesn't get drunk often, or if he's just being sensitive to my past. Either way it was yet another reason why he was ten million times better than Kyle.
Once in the room I head for the bed immediately. I fall backwards onto the bed and giggle, maybe I'm a little more than tipsy. Sid chuckles from in the bathroom.
"What are you doing all the way in there?" I ask playfully.
"Changing into some comfier clothes for bed."
"You don't have to change in there silly. I don't mind you do out here," I say with even more giggles.
Sid walks into the main room with his tie draped around his neck and his dress shirt unbuttoned just enough so I can see his abs.
"Mmmmmm," I coo.
He rolls his eyes and smiles, "suddenly we're not so shy when we're drunk?"
"I'm not drunk, just a little tipsy."
"Is that so?"
He props himself above me on the bed, almost instantly sobering me up. He kisses me with gentleness, but it's only short.
I frown, "don't torture me. We already slept in the same bed in complete innocence and that was torture enough."
"Man, you sure are blunt when you're supposedly tipsy. Listen, I don't want our first time to be when you're in a state like this. I want it to mean something special, not like I'm taking advantage of you. I would never want to hurt you in any way, you know that right?"
"Of course I know that," I say in exasperation.
"Then not tonight, I don't feel comfortable with it," he says firmly.
"Fine," I pout, "but no more changing in the bathroom."
He rolls his eyes again and gets up off the bed, proceeding to undo the rest of his buttons on his shirt.

---

Early the next morning I wake up to the smell of pancakes and bacon. Sports highlights is playing quietly on the TV and Sid is pouring some maple syrup onto his pancakes next to me in bed.
"Oh good you're awake just in time for breakfast. I'll get you some pancakes. You like maple syrup? Canadian bacon?" he says while getting up to grab me some.
"Uhhh yeah, both is good. What time is it anyway?" I say as my head throbs, reminding me of the night before.
The room is still dark, so I'm guessing pretty early. All too soon my face turns beat red as I recall all the things I said to him last night. Suddenly I'm very awake.
Sid looks up from my plate, "five fourt-.... Why are you blushing?"
"Why do you think?!" I hide my face under the covers of the blanket.
"Aww don't be like that. I like when you speak your mind, you should do it more often," he says in a suspicious tone.
I don't say anything. He's right, maybe I should speak up more often.
It's too quiet for too long, all I hear is sports analysts debating hybrid icing on the television. Suddenly I'm being attacked, or rather, tickled. I shriek and flail my body, trying to escape. I can't help but let laughter escape me.
"Stop please!" I beg.
"Then tell me what's on your mind!" he says laughing.
"Never!"
He intensifies his efforts, when finally I can't take it any more. Tickling has always been my weakness.
"Okay, okay, okay!" I gasp.
He stops, but leaves his threatening fingers in the air.
"You wanna know what's on my mind?" he nods, "how much of a stereotypical Canadian you are that you ordered Canadian bacon and pancakes with maple syrup."
"Hey it's good stuff!"
"And you know what else is on my mind? How badly I want you to touch me," I say with a raise of an eyebrow.
"That will have to wait, we've got a flight to Montreal we have to catch at 7:00, and it is now 6. So eat up and get dressed quick!"
"Ugggggghhhh," I groan in frustration, "road trips suck."

Notes