My “first experience” on tour ended up being a mini attack of a mob of about a hundred girls waiting at the airport lobby. Of course, I didn’t feel it as much because obviously they weren’t there for me but I got to see firsthand at what a throng of adolescent girls could do. I was surprised at how familiar this situation was to the guys and had to remind myself that they’ve been dealing with this for years. It was strange to see signs professing their love for Brian and a few in tears at the sight of him. Though, it was a good strange feeling. I haven’t gotten used to it yet, the thought that girls would give an arm and a leg just to hug him.

“Oh please, you cried at the sight of me too,” Brian had joked on the way to the hotel.

“Yeah, I recall that now. Cried from irritation at Asshole Neighbour,” I’d joked back, eliciting a laugh from Nick.

I was in absolute awe in the car, staring up at the magnificent and antique buildings as we passed. Brian would point some out to me and tell me historical facts as well as random memories from past travels here. I listened eagerly, still not believing that I was actually finally outside of Canada and seeing the world. I was speechless, to the say the least, when we arrived at our hotel, the Grand Hotel Stockholm facing waterfront right across the Royal Palace.

“Oh… geez,” I gush as I stare up at the magnificent glass chandeliers in the main foyer. It was extravagant, classy, and so breathtakingly elegant. I felt like I was in one of those old fashioned movies in the 1940’s with my aristocrat husband.

My thoughts are interrupted by a deep, kind voice behind me. “How are you liking Stockholm so far, London?” It’s Kevin, and his handsome face is set into a genuine smile beaming down at me.

“I…” I trail off, really not knowing what to say. “It’s a dream come true. It’s absolutely beautiful.”

“I’m glad you’re enjoying it so far. We have a meet and greet as well as a press conference later today, but hopefully you get the chance to take a boat out on the water. It’s absolutely amazing at night.”

I nod. “That sounds perfect.”

“Ma’am, are these your suitcases here?” I turn around to see a tall man with wavy blonde hair and adorned in a bellman uniform standing behind me, motioning to some unfamiliar suitcases beside him.

“I’ll see you later, London,” Kevin calls out behind me and I wave at him as he follows security toward the elevators.

“No, those aren’t mine. Thank you,” I reply politely.

“I apologize ma’am.” He pauses and studies my face carefully. “Canadian?”

I grin at this and nod. “Yeah, how’d you guess?”

“I lived in Montreal for about ten years before moving back home here,” he replied, his face breaking out into a smile. “I can tell a Canadian accent from an American one in an instant.”

I laugh. “Well, you definitely don’t have a Swedish accent. I guess you’ve gotten quite accustomed to Canada.”

He nods. “Yeah, I miss it actually.” A slight blush appears on his cheeks and I raise my eyebrows when he says, “If you’re any indicator, the girls there are absolutely beautiful.”

“Well, thank you,” I say, giving him a smile. Just then, I hear someone clear their throat behind me and I immediately know who it is.

“You ready to go up to the room now, baby?” He’s beside me instantaneously, his hand at the small of my back and giving the bellman a tight smile. “We have all our luggages being sent up,” Brian informs him, who in turn nods back. “Thanks for all your help.”

“It was nice meeting you,” I call behind my shoulder.

“Have a great stay at the hotel, ma’am.”

When the elevator doors close, I can tell that Brian is glancing sideways at me. I shift on my feet beside him. “I don’t like you flirting with the hotel staff,” he mutters and I stare at him incredulously.

“Do not pull Asshole Neighbour on me now.”

The corners of his mouth twitches and I can tell he’s trying not to smile. He shrugs. “You fell for Asshole Neighbour as well as Brian Littrell.”

I roll my eyes at him. “I wasn’t flirting.”

“Did you roll your eyes at me?” He glares down at me and I glare back.

“What if I did?”

He stares at me for a few more seconds before grabbing my face and planting a hard kiss on my lips. “You are so difficult, Ms. Cartier.” Then he grins. “This is going to be an interesting tour with you around.”

I wink at him. “Very.”

-

“This is our hotel room?”

“Yes, why?” Brian laughs as he follows behind me. “Does it meet London Cartier’s standards?”

“My standards are a bed with, hopefully, clean sheets and maybe even a radio. This…” I paused, taking it all in. “This is a house within a hotel building!” I run my hand against the silk sheet of the king sized bed, where a basket of fine Swedish chocolates and a bottle of iced wine are presented at the foot of it. “This is bigger than my house.” I gush as I walk around the bed, taking it all in.

There’s a seating area across the room, where plush red velvet couches circle a large round coffee table where a beautiful arrangement of orchids are placed. A big screen TV is turned on to a welcome screen showing beautiful and popular tourist attractions of Stockholm. I make my way into the bathroom and flick on the lights. I can’t help the gasp that escapes my lips. There’s a cream marble hot tub in the corner surrounded by unlit candles and complimentary bottles of oils and lotions. The floor is dark cracked stoned that match the walls, and the stand-up shower is all beautiful clear glass. The counter tops are marble, with steel fixtures and a large hand-washing basin. Brian is still standing by the entryway, watching me carefully as I walk out of the bathroom dumbfounded. I walk toward a doorway across the room in-between the bed and the seating area. It’s complimented by grand floor-to-ceiling dark red velvet curtains, where a white frame peaks through that are adorned with intricate spiral carvings. I grab the gold doorknob and pull the door open, revealing a breathtaking view of the waterfront.

I rest my hand against my heart, feeling it beat against my chest. I’ve never felt more alive, being in another place like this, looking across the river to the Royal Palace. I’m in Sweden. Sweden. There are several large boats and yachts docked at the pier and I can hear the laughter of fishermen from here. The sky is blue, the sun is bright and a light breeze pushes the hair away from my face. I close my eyes and breathe in.

“Get used to it,” Brian says softly behind me and I feel his arms circle around my waist, his chin resting against my shoulder. “I’m going to show you the world, Ms. Cartier.”