With my cheek all smushed up against my soft pillow, my mobile ringtone is the only thing that reminds me that I'm actually still in the land of the living. Groggily, I reach for my phone and answer it. "Hello?"

"Are you up?" Doug DiCarto is chirpily on the end of the line.

Rubbing my eye, I croakily say. "Nope. I'm half alive."

"You have ten minutes. I'll be waiting for you outside."

Barely able to properly open up my sore and tired eyes, let alone get out of my bed, I start grumbling out why I can't get up. "I'm tired. I'm still in bed. I need to shower and to dress."

Ignoring all of my exhausted excuses, Doug's voice deepens. "You have ten minutes." Then he hangs up.

Flopping my head down into my pillow, I grunt loud with annoyance; so loud, I wake the equally half-dead Nancy in her bed beside mine. "What's wrong?" She hoarsely asks.

Throwing back the bed sheets, I angrily grumble. "Doug DiCarto, that's what's wrong."

**

In twenty rushed minutes, I have showered, brushed through my wet hair and piled it high into a soggy top knot, brushed my teeth and got dressed in denim cut-off shorts and a cerise little vest top.

Now as I stroll through the hotel foyer and out into the Spanish morning sunshine, I am greeted by Doug who is waiting for me sat upon a moped with two helmets being held between his legs.

"You're late?" He's frowning, yet half-grinning at me.

"Just keeping you on your toes, DiCarto."

Doug kind of shakes away my cheeky remark with his head. "Get on." Is what he orders me to do, still grinning a little as he does.

But I don't, I can't believe just how refreshed and with it he looks this morning. "Don't you ever sleep?" I ask him.

Lightly shrugging, Doug just nonchalantly says. "I can sleep when I die."

Now feeling a little worried, I look at the very rebellious Doug Di Carto. "I don't know whether I even want to get on that thing. Am I safe to ride on the back with you?"

Now really smirking, I just know that his comeback is going to be crude and completely inappropriate. "Believe me, sweetheart, this is one of those rare occasions where you most certainly will be safe having me between your legs." Then he hands me my helmet, that smirk of his still very much there on those sinfully wicked lips of his.

Snatching the helmet, I shake my head at just how inappropriate he really can be. What is even more annoying—is that I still find him attractive for doing it. "I just need to take down my hair." I'm now mumbling as I start untying my damp top knot.

While I'm doing that, Doug is watching me in that intense way that he often does watch me with. Then, he's laughing. Laughing hard and laughing at me. "Shit, can you get any more cuter?"

Confused, I'm now looking at him with my brows drawn in really close together. "What?" My hairband is now on my wrist and the helmet is now on my head.

Doug looks away laughing, then needs to look at me again—still laughing. "You. You've got sleep wrinkles from your pillow on your cheek."

Instinctively, I'm rubbing the cheek that he seems to find so stupidly amusing. I was in such a rush whilst getting ready, I didn't have time to put on any make up, let alone even look at my face. "Well, someone woke me up, didn't they?" Now slightly embarrassed, I decide that now is the time to just get on the back of the scooter. At least then, Doug won't be able to see my highly amusing sleep wrinkles.

As my arms wrap themselves around his waist and his stomach, he turns to me just before he puts on his own helmet. "Ready?" I nod just the once, having it accompanied by one of my smiles. And just for a split second, I see something different in Doug's brown eyes. In just that split second, there was something more. A warm more. An affectionate more. A more that I just want more of. "Okay, hold tight." Doug says, as he starts up the scooter and slowly rides away from the hotel with me doing just that...holding tight, to him.

**Video above is: I COULD BE THE ONE - AVICII vs NICKY ROMERO**