Harley's POV:
I had an interview in L.A. in a few days. Chelsea Handler called me personally and asked me to come on her show, and I agreed instantly. Brantley had a few more stops on the tour, this would be the first time we've been apart since we got together. As pitiful as it sounded, I didn't want to go. I sniffled at the gate, waiting to board my flight. "Aw angel don't cry, you know it kills me to see you upset." Brantley soothed me, hugging me tighter. "I know, I'm just gonna miss you." I hiccuped. "I'm gonna miss you too Harley. More than you know, but it'll be alright. It's only a week, ok?" He nuzzled my jaw. I nodded. The announcement sounded for my flight, and I kissed him goodbye. "I love you Brant." I sniffled. He pecked my lips once. Twice. "I love you too baby girl. Call me as soon as you land, ok?" He rumbled and kissed me again. I nodded and walked towards the gate. Waving at him at the last minute. He thumped his fist on his chest twice, right over his heart. His universal sign for "I love you.". I tapped my chest with my hand twice in answer. He nodded and headed back to his truck. I boarded the plan and found my seat, hoping for a quick flight.
As the plane touched down in Los Angeles, I sighed sadly. When I made it to baggage claim, I called my man. "Hey beautiful, how was your flight?" He asked. I grabbed my suitcase, and sighed into the phone as I headed towards the exit. "I'm pretty sure I'm having withdrawals already." I groaned grumpily. Brantley laughed. "I know what you mean, it's gonna be a long ass week, huh?" He said. "Yeah. I'm not liking this. At all." I huffed and hailed a cab. I was heading to the studio to film the show first. Then the hotel. I had a few other PR related things to do while I was in town, and a show to perform as well. Brantley and I talked until the cab pulled up at the doors. I told him I loved him and we hung up. I grabbed my things, paid the driver, and headed into the studio. Chelsea Handler herself came running down the hallway at me. "Move stupid. Get out of her face." She glared at the guy escorting me, then grinned when he ran away. She looked at me and smiled. "I love you, I really do. And I want to fuck your man. But to be perfectly honest I kind of want to fuck you too." Was the first thing out of her mouth. "Umm... Thank you?" I grinned and blushed. She took my hand and lead me to the stage. "You ready?" She asked. I nodded. We headed out and started filming. "So... Brantley Gilbert... What's that like?" She asked me curiously. "What do you mean?" I laughed. "What's he like? Is he really as bad ass as he looks? How is he as a boyfriend?" She rapid fired. "Well.... Amazing. Yes. And incredible. He's just an awesome guy. He isn't afraid of my dad, he's funny, he's sweet. I know he's rough and tough. But he's gentle as can be with me." I started. But she stopped me. "Bullshit.." Chelsea said. I raised an eyebrow. She motioned to the screen behind us and played the same clip from our Wendy Williams interview. "That isn't gentle. And I really want to ride his face, just saying." She exclaimed. I blushed fiercely. "So I was wondering, what makes him so good at that?" She asked me. My eyes widened. "Umm... Uhh... Practice?" I croaked out. "I thought so too at first, but then I realized something." She grinned. "I'm afraid to ask..." I said. She showed a picture of Brantley sticking his tongue out during a concert. "It's because he's got a tongue the size of most men's dongs. Look at that thing! He can practically reach your tonsils through your vagina!" She yelled. "Oh my God!" I squeaked, ducking my head. "He's never gonna let me live this down if he sees this." I groaned. "We fill love you know? Like right now. This is live." Chelsea laughed. About that time, my phone started ringing in my pocket. I glanced at the screen and saw it was Brantley. I cringed and tried to put it away. Chelsea jumped up and snatched it before I could stop her. "Hello?" She answered. She put the phone on speaker. "Is this big bad biker daddy?" She grinned. "Umm... I usually just go by Brantley, but ok." He chuckled. "God that voice. How do you not cream your panties anytime he talks?" She asked me. Brantley burst out laughing on the phone. "Oh Jesus." I groaned. "So Brantley, I have a question..." Chelsea asked him. "What's that darlin?" He replied. I know you have ridiculously huge hands, but what size shoe do you wear?" She grinned. I slapped my forehead with my palm. "13. Why do you ask?" He chuckled. "Well you know what they say.. Big hands, big feet.." Chelsea taunted, thinking she'd embarrassment. "Darlin all that means is I wear big gloves, and big boots. What you're really wantin to ask is how big is my co-" I cut him off. "BRANTLEY KEITH!" I screeched. Chelsea laughed hysterically. Brantley cracked up too. "Yes momma?" He asked. "Don't you dare finish that statement!" I growled. He laughed all over again. That's how the interview ended. My cheeks bright red, and Chelsea trying to pry measurements from Brantley.