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You were on the road for the whole day - a perfect excuse to sit around and do nothing but think about the terrifying realization that you had come to while Myra was on the phone. She ended up making ramen for dinner - but the good kind, that required more effort than just filling a cup with water and throwing it in the microwave. It was good, and you went to bed with a full stomach.

When you woke up, you were in Atlanta, and someone was knocking on the bus door. You groaned, pressing your face into your pillow as you heard Myra drag herself to the door. You heard her as she opened the door, greeting whoever was on the other side. It was only a moment before she was padding back into the bus, and placing a hand on your shoulder. 

"Hey." She said. "Gotta get up."

"Mmmm why." You yawned. 

"George invited us to breakfast with the boys, and I don't want to keep them waiting." Myra said. "He said Clay said he knows a pancake place around here."

Your eyes fluttered open at the mention of Clay and you pushed yourself out of bed, stretching your arms up over your head. You grabbed some clothes from the drawer under your bunk and looked to Myra, who was grinning, amused. 

"All it took was the mention of pancakes and all of a sudden you're up." She joked. 

You laughed thinly. "Pancakes... yup." You disappeared into the bathroom to change before she could say anything else, closing the door behind you. It had only been a day and you were already being super obvious. Ridiculous.

You stripped out of your pajamas and changed into the clothes you had grabbed, quickly washing your face in the sink and fixing your hair into something more presentable than a bedhead. You would just have to push your newfound feelings aside and be normal. You were already becoming friends with these guys, you would just be nice and friendly and not think about Clay's eyes or his little sun freckles or his tea kettle laugh.

You stepped out of the bathroom to let Myra change and went to the couches near the front of the bus to wait for her. You opened your little note journal - just to add a single word, pancakes - while you waited. It was only a moment before Myra was coming out of the bathroom, pulling her hair back into a ponytail. 

"Ready?" She asked. 

You stood up, putting your phone back into your pocket. "Yup."

Myra led the way out of the bus and into the mid-morning sun. Outside, the boys were waiting - George and Nick leaned up against the side of their bus, and Clay with his back to you. He turned around when the doors opened though, smiling as you and Myra stepped out. 

"Morning." Nick said, kicking off the side of the bus and heading straight over to Myra. She met him in the middle, wrapping her arms around his middle and pressing her face into his chest. 

"You smell." She said, voice muffled by his shirt. 

Clay laughed, spinning to face you fully. "Pancakes?" He asked, eye alight. They looked more green than anything else now, though you were sure once the lighting changed their color would to. 

You smiled, reminding yourself to be normal. "Pancakes!" You repeated excitedly. 

The place Clay knew wasn't too far from where the tour buses were parked. It was a tiny hole in the wall place - a little diner in the middle of a huge city. There was a certain homey feel about it though that you liked - once you were inside the building you could have been anywhere. It was easy to picture the gingham tablecloths and syrupy smell in any town; it was one of those places space and time couldn't touch.

You were seated in a large corner booth, squished between Clay and George as Nick and Myra took the other side, sharing a menu between them. On your side, you held the menu so that both Clay and George could see, looking over the variety of options. There were a lot - ranging from regular buttermilk, to chocolate, to banana, to something called the General that looked... intense to say the least. 

"What are you going to get?" George asked, glancing over at Nick and Myra. 

"The big stack." Nick said. "To share." He snapped the menu closed with an air of finality and laid it at the end of the table. "You?"

"I don't know." George said. "Maybe banana?"

"I think I might just go with chocolate chip." You said. Chocolate chip was always a safe bet, and though whatever the General had going on looked exciting, you didn't think you would be able to eat it all. 

Clay hummed thoughtfully, still looking over the menu. "I don't know yet." He said. "What's on that side?"

"Oh, here-" You were about to shift the menu closer when Clay just draped himself over your shoulders, peering to the other side of the menu. Under the weight of his arm, your heart fluttered in your chest and you felt your face heat up. 

Clay hummed again and you could feel it, rumbling in his chest where it touched your back. "You said you were getting banana George?"

"Yeah I think so." George said. 

"I'll get blueberry then." Clay said, leaning back so that he was sitting again. "But you have to let me have one of yours."

"But I don't want one of yours." George said. "I'm not going to just let you take one of mine when I don't want one of yours-"

Clay took the menu from you, closing it and placing it on top of the menu Nick had set at the end of the table. "Too bad." Clay said, grinning at George around you. 

As they argued, you tried to get your heartbeat back under control, taking steadying breaths as best you could and absolutely not thinking about how you could feel the stretch of the muscle in Clay's arm when he had draped it around your shoulders. 

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