I turn the dial on the radio atop the kitchen counter, playing around with it until the KIIS FM station is set loud and clear.

“And coming up after these commercials is what pretty much every teenaged girl out there is waiting for and have camped out for right outside our studio,” the male radio host says enthusiastically.

“No seriously guys,” a female voice cuts in with a slight laugh. “I cannot believe how many girls are outside the building right now just waiting for a glimpse of these guys. It is insane out there. I’ve never seen anything like it. They’ve been here since last night!”

“Don’t they have a curfew or something?” The two radio hosts laugh at this before the male voice continues, “But yes, ladies, the Backstreet Boys have just arrived in the studio!” Loud screams could be heard from the distance and I can’t help but smile at the excitement of the fans. “So we’ll get them settled and after this short break, we will be talking about their upcoming tour, as well you’ll get a chance to ask them a question if you call in fast enough!” With that, he cuts off and a radio jingle about car insurance comes on.

I step away from where I was leaning on the counter and stride over to the other side where I’m preparing breaded chicken for dinner. I sprinkle on the last of the garlic breadcrumbs and shredded crackers before sticking it into the preheated oven, setting the timer for forty-five minutes. I’m just getting started on cutting up some potatoes and mushrooms when the radio station cuts from the commercials and I hear the female radio host, Angie, come through again.

“Alright, here with us at KIIS FM are…” She pauses for effect. “…none other than all five members of the Backstreet Boys. Guys, introduce yourselves!” There’s a slight pause until I hear Nick’s familiar laughter and then his voice; all charm and boyish.

“Hey, it’s Nick.”

Then a deeper, more mature one. “Kevin here.”

“This is AJ.” Ever so raspy and mysterious.

“Hey, I’m Brian.” My heart does a funny flip at the sound of his voice; I can never resist that soft Southern twang.

“And I’m Howie.” Even through the radio, I can see Howie’s friendly grin.

“Welcome, welcome to the studio fellas! Glad to have you back here with us again,” Angie says and there’s a murmuring of thank you’s and appreciation from the guys.

“Thanks for having us again,” Kevin’s southern drawl replies politely.

“Now I understand that you’re about to kick off a crazy world tour next week. Tell us a little bit more about that.”

I listen as Brian’s familiar voice comes through. “We’re doing something a little different this time around. We’re starting off in Europe and Asia for the first leg of our tour, then coming to Canada and back home for half of our US dates for the second leg. Then, we get about a month break before hitting up South America, Australia, and then finally ending off back in America.”

“Sounds like you guys will be busy in the next few months!”

“Definitely, but we love it,” Howie replies in his always enthusiastic voice. “It’s definitely been a blessing.”

I smile to myself as I continue to listen to their radio interview, occasionally laughing at the boys’ usual antics. By now, this is probably the fifth of their radio interviews I’ve listened in on today during their promotional tour around Los Angeles. The boys had an early start to the day, filming three talk shows in the morning and spending the afternoon travelling around to different radio stations in the city. Each interviewer have brought up Brian’s disappearing act from earlier this year and each time, he’s politely explained that it was a needed time off for personal reasons. I admire his grace to pull through the rumors and the tabloids, though I can tell just in his voice that he’s growing tired of talking about it.

The rest of the interview talks about the new album, what to expect from the concert, and fan questions from those lucky enough to have gotten through the line. I smile as an overly excited fan comes on the line and screams, making me cringe slightly. I listen in as I sprinkle sea salt on some green beans and sauté the mushrooms in some garlic, working around the kitchen as I go.

“Hi, my name is Megan and I just wanted to say happy birthday to Brian!” she squeals and I laugh as the radio hosts begin to tease Brian about not mentioning his birthday today.

“Ah, it’s no biggie,” he replies, laughing along.

“I just wanted to ask how are you spending your birthday this year?” Megan continues before proclaiming her love for the boys once more who voice their appreciation in return.

“Well, to be honest, I just wanted to have a quiet birthday,” Brian replies and I can imagine that little grin on his face. “We’ve been doing press tours all around the city all day so at least I get to spend some time with the fellas,” he laughs. “They each gave me birthday punches of course. Just a quiet night in at home later, then celebrate with my family over the weekend before I jet off for a couple months!”

“No VIP parties in L.A. with a red carpet and private booths?” Angie jokes.

“Nah, we did that last year,” Brian jokes back.

“It was at Chuck-E-Cheese, they do it big!” AJ chimes in and more laughter follows.

By the time the interview is over, the baked chicken is ready and I’ve kept the veggies at low heat in a pan to keep warm. I’m just laying out the cutlery on the table when John the bodyguard strides into the room in his usual curt and polite manner.

“Ma’am, Mr. Littrell has just informed me that he’s on his way home and will be arriving shortly,” he tells me.

“Thank you, John,” I reply, giving him a smile. He nods and turns on his heel, leaving the room as quickly as he left. It’s still strange to me that I can’t text my own boyfriend due to precautions, but sending messages through security will have to do.

I set the finishing touches to the table and plate the food before taking a seat on the couch. Though I get up a few seconds later, suddenly feeling nervous. I realize I’m pacing now as I wait, not knowing what to do with my hands.

Why am I so nervous? Chill out, London.

I stop pacing when I hear his voice at the main foyer greeting security and a few seconds later footsteps walking down the hallway toward the kitchen. He walks in and sees me first by the couches, a smile forming on his face. Then his eyes travel to the dining table across the condo and my heart does a leap of joy at his surprised expression.

“What is this?” he asks softly, walking towards the table where two plates of baked chicken, garlic mushrooms, red potatoes, and green beans are set across from each other. In the middle are three lit candles and soft acoustic music is playing from the radio on the counter. He swivels around to look at me, realization hitting him. “You did this?”

I nod, smiling and walk over to him. “Happy birthday,” I say and in a heartbeat, he scoops me off my feet and spins me around.

“Baby, you didn’t have to do all of this.”

“I wanted to do something special… within the means that I can,” I add and he sets me back down on my feet to gaze at me. “Plus, you’ve been so drained lately with tour preparations that I just want you to finally relax and just have a nice, quiet dinner.”

He sighs and pulls me into a tight embrace. “Thank you,” he whispers, kissing my hair. “Thank you so much. I’m speechless.”

“It was no problem, baby,” I reply and give him a kiss on the lips. “Now eat up before the food gets cold.”

“Oh thank God, I’m starving!” he says enthusiastically and I have to laugh as he sits down eagerly, then stands back up to pull the chair out for me, and then sit backs down.

“How was your day?” I ask, as I stab at a forkful of green beans.

He shrugs. “Just another day at the office.” He winks at me and I laugh softly, suddenly feeling shy. He narrows his eyes, his gaze questioning. “Blushing are we?”

I shake my head slightly, giving him a look. “It’s just warm in here.”

“Oh, I thought we were just getting started.” He chuckles at the look on my face, clearly enjoying himself. “This is delicious, by the way. Gotta love a woman who can cook.”

I give him a sly smile. “Gotta love a man who can sing.”

“Me?” He feigns an appalled look. “I just do it on the side, you know.”

“How modest of you,” I joke and he gives me that cheesy grin of his.

And that’s how the rest of dinner goes; flirtatious conversations, cheesy remarks, and the occasional hand squeeze across the table. It’s amazing to me how different he is from the mysterious man who lived across the street from me, but it still catches me off guard at how similar he is at the same time. Though he’s all clean boyish charm for the public, there’s a side of him that no one else sees… a side that I only see behind closed doors. He’s still all charm, but in a sexier, more provocative way. I catch him staring at times with a look in his eyes as if he’s undressing me right at the dinner table. He’ll make small remarks that vibrate from my belly down to my womanhood. He is absolutely irresistible and my carnal attraction to him hasn’t changed since the first night he kissed me. By the end of dinner, I’m practically squirming in my seat under his intense gaze, blue eyes alight with desire. Yes, this is definitely a side that the public doesn’t see. And I can’t help but blush thinking that it’s for my enjoyment only.

I breathe out slowly when he stands up to clear the dishes, a sigh of relief from my increasing yearning to jump on his lap and rip his clothes off. He turns his head just enough to give me a look from the corner of his eye, a small smirk on his lips. He’s doing this on purpose, I realize.

“I’ll be right back,” I call out to him and he murmurs his response as I head over to the bedroom where my other surprise is. I walk out a few seconds later and he’s sitting on the couch waiting for me, slightly slouched over, elbow to his knees and hands clasped together. He gives me a wary look when he sees the gift bag in my hand.

“What’s that?” he asks; curiosity and excitement in his voice.

“Just something small for the man who has everything,” I reply, handing him the gift bag and taking a seat next to him. He grins and opens the bag eagerly, peeking into it first.

Then, he chuckles. “No way!” Grinning from ear to ear, he pulls out a package of cut up fudge and the same bottle of wine we had shared that fateful night.

“Express delivered from Banff,” I tell him and his facial expression changes to an unreadable one; his eyebrow slightly furrowed and his gaze softened.

“Baby,” he breathes and pulls me into his arms. “You have no idea how much this means to me.” He pulls back to look me in the eyes. “That night…” he swallows. “That night was… is so much to me. Our first kiss… it was the night I realized I was falling hard for you… realized how amazing of a woman you are.”

I give him a small smile and stand up, taking the wine bottle from him. “Then, let’s recreate that night,” I say seductively. “With a different ending. Look in the bag.”

He looks inside again and pulls out something wrapped in delicate silk. He opens it to reveal a pair of handcuffs and gasps. “Wha-“

“Silk or metal?” I ask, my voice dropping down to a husky tone.

He swallows. “Do I get to choose?”

“Nope.” I giggle as he stands up and follows me into the bedroom.

“Good Lord, woman. Just when I thought I had you all riled up.”

“Play harder, Littrell if you want to keep up.” With that, I take the cuffs from him, push him gently onto the bed, and kick the door closed before pouncing.