It was cold as shit and this these thin ass nursing scrubs were doing nothing for me.

I'm gonna take note to never wear one layer of clothes when I have a busted Buick to drive around town in tons of snow and no cell phone to call for help in case the piece of shit breaks down. If it wasn't for the last two dollars I had in my pocket, I would've been walking a lot further than I am now, even though an extra dollar would've been nice for that bus transfer so I could just catch the 83 to my front steps rather than walking six blocks from Callowhill Ave.

Whatever. I'm halfway home and if my toes don't break off from frost bite, I think I can slide through this day without wishing I wasn't stupid enoughto get up this morning.

"Shit..." I grumbled as I pulled my jacket around myself tighter and trudged up the one way street to my house. It was only six, but it was dark as all hell already. That was the joy of winter time in Philly. Mother Nature wasn't fuckin' around. The snow was seeping into my shoes. I sighed and stepped out into the street instead since the cars had flatten the snow down to a reasonable level. It was much easier than the sidewalk that lazy ass neighbors couldn't bother shoveling. Not that I should be talking shit, my house wasn't looking much better, but I had worked from five this morning to five tonight, so I had an excuse. It wasn't snowing this bad when I left, but the weather has certainly met the meterologist's prediction of blizzard like conditions.

I wanted to cry when I realized I'd be up again in the morning doing the same damn thing without my car this time. It was a piece of shit, but it was a warm piece of shit. My tears wouldn't come though, knowing that they'd just freeze against my cheeks.

"Excuse me." I almost didn't hear the voice over the howling winds, but it came stronger the second time around. "Excuse me!" I strained my eyes to see through the snow as I looked around me. The streets looked deserted, like a ghost town, and the owner of the voice was nowhere in sight. I was always supersitious, so I walked a little faster. I didn't want to be front page news of Unsolved Mysteries.

I was ready to haul ass when I felt a hand on my back, but I stopped and screamed inside as the face came into view. It was a pale one; a really young, white male one, and covered in blood. I said a silent prayer to God, asking him to reliquish this demon from in front of me and backed away quickly from the figure.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," I cursed over and over as I turned to jog up the block.

"Wait!" His voice strained and even though my mind told me to run and never look back, something in me made me turn around. I watched as he held his sides and fell to his knees in the middle of the street, doubled over in pain. I was panting as I took in his t-shirt and jeans. He was far from dressed appropriate for this weather and I wondered for a moment what a white boy was doing in my neighborhood in the first place.

His cuts and bruises were telling me a couple of fools thought the same thing and the thought that he was beat up and robbed crossed my mind. Jesus Christ, why are you doing this? I thought as I walked slowly up to his form.

"Sir?" I called timidly as he suddenly fell over causing me to jump back. "Sir!" I was a bit more desperate now because a dead white boy in my neighborhood would be even worse than a beat up one.

"It..." he groaned and I kneeled down to his level, turning his face gently with both my hands. His skin was freezing cold against my fingertips and I was overwhelmed with sadness.

"It what?" I inquired and for a long moment he was quiet.

"It hurts." He let out a wheeze that I jerked back away from before I stood and sighed.

"All right, sir," I said, taking on a professional nursing role like I had been taught to do so many times, "I need you to stand up." I held his arm and assisted him as he struggled to get off of the ground. "C'mon... that's good..." I peeled my jacket from my body and threw it over his shoulders, thankful that I always got my jackets too damn big so I could snuggle up in them. He remained hunched over as he looked over at me. His eyes were so blue that I had to look away at his feet, which I now saw were only covered in socks.

Damn, they jacked this boy good. What the fuck was he doing down here anyway? He must not be from around here because he'd know better... I wonder where he's from and as I glance up at his shivering face, I wonder where I've seen it before. He looked familiar, but not like I knew him, but seen him around somewhere.

Maybe at the hospital? I'm not that good with faces.

"Take it easy," I guided as I approached my front stairs. We took them slowly as I dug through my pockets for my keys. I found them and we entered my townhouse, which was so warm against my skin. He sighed next to me, but was still shaking. We took the stairs to the upper level of my two story home and my cat meowed as we passed it in the hall. It looked up at me as if to say Who's this? and I looked at him to say I wish I knew.

The bathroom was small, but accomadating and I left him at the door as I ran over to the tub and started to run a warm shower.

"Okay, we're gonna get you warmed up, okay?" I explained, "You just have to undress." I walked over and hesitatantly removed my jacket from his shoulders and he stood and let me remove the rest of his clothes. I was unfazed by nudity after all my years as nurse, and he didn't seem to care much either. Maybe he did work in the hospital.

"Easy..." I warned as he lifted his leg to climb into the shower. He got one side in and then the other and he hissed a bit as the warm water stung his cuts, I'm assumed. It took just a moment for him to relax and suck up the pain in order to warm up. "Use whatever you need," I informed him as I closed the curtain. "I'll be right back!" I jogged down the hall to my room and dug through my drawers to find him something to wear. I was glad to own so many sweats and t-shirts. I grabbed him a gray pair of swears and a yellow t-shirt. I found some white tube socks a clean towel. I went underneath my pillow and grabbed my pocket knife and first aid kit. It was for protection (the knife) because I lived alone and not in the safest area. Nothing has happened yet, but I don't want to start today. I don't know him and he's in my house with nobody but me. If he was crazy, he was gonna get cut as far as I was concerned.

As I made my way back up the hall, I heard the shower was still running. I placed the towel and clothes on the closed tolit seat before gathering his blood stained clothes. I dug through the pockets, looking for anything like an i.d. or drugs or weapons, but I got nothing but gum, wrappers from the chewed gum, and keys.

Figures.

I folded up his clothes and washed my hands just as the shower water turned off. I looked over at the shower and steam clouded out as he moved the curtain back. He wobbly held the wall for balance and I stood with his towel in hand.

"Let me help you," I demanded gently, opening up the towel and wrapping it around him. I held his waist and beneath his arm as he climbed out of the shower, slowly and in pain. When he settled, I turned and let him dry off and dress.

"Are you decent?" I asked as I slowly spun around. When I faced him, he looked down at his sock covered feet. "You don't talk?" I teased and he shrugged shyly.

"I dunno," he mumbled, "Do I?" I shrugged this time.

"I guess so," I commented, "Your mouth's moving and words are coming out."

"Yeah..." he trailed off and silence came over us for just a moment.

"Okay, well, I think I better patch you up." I gestured toward the toilet. "Have a seat." He did as told as I walked over and placed my kit on the edge of the sink beside him. I opened it up and pulled out all the bandages and alcohol I could find. "This'll sting a little," I warned. "Not that bad though." He nodded and I tilted his head upward to get a good view of the cut on the side of his head. I was ugly, but didn't need any stitches and it wasn't swelling; that was a good sign. I took out an alcohol pad and placed it against his skin.

"Ow!" he howled, pulling away and I swatted his hand when he went to touch it.

"Calm down," I told him before I blew over his cut, cooling the burn. I continued to blow on it as I reapplied some alcohol. He still hissed and whimpered, but it was better than before. I had patched him up completely and sighed when I finally finished.

"You used everything," he observed as I put back the three bandages I had left.

"Well, somebody fucked you up good," I said as gently as possible, "But you can buy me a new kit later. If your wallet ever shows up." He smirked.

"I'll remember that." I nodded.

"Okay, now I have to check your sides," I told him, "You were hunching over pretty bad." He stood from the toilet and towered over me by at least a foot. I was practically leveled at his rib cage as I pulled his shirt up. "Hold this." I instructed, giving him a chunk of his shirt as I gently pressed my fingers to his left side. He hissed.

"That hurts," he whined.

"Scale from 1-10."

"A billion." I pushed a bit firmer to feel if there were any weird gaps where bones should be and then did the same to the other side.

"I don't think anything's broken, but you're bruised up," I sadly shook my head, "You need to get an x-ray or CAT scan done at the hospital."

"I don't like hospitals," he quickly declined, "I'm fine."

"No, you're not," I said, "You could be really bruised up in there."

He put down his shirt, covering up the abs I had taken notice of. "I'll live."

"Are you a nurse or am I?" I rhetorically inquired.

"I don't know," he shrugged. "I guess you're the nurse."

"You've guess right..." I trailed off, realizing I didn't know his name. "Wait, what's your name anyway? You didn't have any I.D."

"It's..." he began, "It's..." I watched as he looked down and racked his brain for a moment. "Shit... what the fuck is it?" My eyes widened slightly.

"You don't know your name?" I asked slowly and he struggled for a while longer before shaking his head.

"No." He ran his hands over his slightly curly hair. "I don't know my name."

"Well..." I stammered, "Where... where are you from?"

"I... I don't know," he gasped, "Oh, god... I don't know."

"What do you do for a living? Who's your mom? What's your favorite color? Why are you here?" A million questions flew from my mouth and only one answer came from his.

"I don't know!" he panicked. "I don't fuckin' know!" I tried to regain a normal breathing pattern as I looked at his pacing form.

"Okay..." I said as calmly as possible. "We can figure this out... just... relax."

"Relax?" he questioned. "I don't know my favorite color and you expect me to calm down?" I halfway shrugged and sighed.

"Well, freaking out won't help, okay?" I reasoned. "Lets eat and then get a lot of rest. We'll be able to work this out in the morning and have all day to get this shit sorted out." He quiet for a moment and I was halfway expecting him to throw his hands up in the air and scream in horror. Hell, that's what I wanted to do.

There was a penniless, wallet less, white boy in my house in the middle of North Philly with cuts and bruises and memory loss and all I had was a pocket knife, three bandages, and a cat to protect me.

He'd probably kill me in my sleep, claim he doesn't remember anything, and get away with it.

Fuck.

My eyes were drooping, but I wasn't going to fall asleep with him on the couch. Dinner was fine; he seemed to like my leftover chicken and rice. He sipped on three cups of tea and then we settled on the sofa we were on at the moment. There wasn't much conversation going on now, but dinner was a time he couldn't shut up. He asked me a million questions about myself and I tried to answer them as evasively as possible. I didn't need a best friend out of him, I just wanted his crazy ass not to kill me.

"I think I'm gonna head up," I announced, "I got an early start. You should get some rest too." He nodded and turned off the television.

"Thank you," he said softly. I nodded as I stood.

"Just don't steal anything, okay?" I started toward the stairs and I sensed him following suit. "Where are you going?" I turned around and he was right behind me. I could practically feel the warmth that was finally coming from his previously frozen body.

"What do you mean?" he asked dumbly, "Don't we sleep upstairs?" I raised a brow.

"We?" I inquired, "No, dude, we don't sleep upstairs; I do. You sleep on the couch." I pointed behind him and he looked over at the brown sofa like he never saw it before.

"I can't sleep on that," he whined, "It'll kill my back."

"How would you know, Mr. I don't know my name?" I quipped, "You might love sleeping on couches for all you know." He pursed his lips in a disbelieving manner.

"I seriously doubt that," he grumbled.

"Doubt all you want," I told him, "But there's no doubt in my mind that you're sleeping down here." I turned and headed up the stairs. "Goodnight, John Doe."

"Who's that?" I heard him ask as I rolled my eyes. I couldn't help but smile though. His lack of memory and stupidty was amusing, at the very least. He wasn't that bad on the eyes either when he pouted or whined. As annoying as both were, I couldn't help but feel charmed by his presence...

Maybe it's because he's the first white guy I've found the least bit attractive in a while. Hell, maybe it's because he's the first guy in a while who has brought a smile to my face without even trying.

Maybe I just needed some dick in my life because it has been so long.

Whatever. Crazy was downstairs and I was laying in bed with my door locked and my knife in my hand. I prayed about six times for my safety and the safety of my cat, who was sleeping at the foot of my bed. Little Bob was looking mighty cozy, but I couldn't have been more uncomfortable. What was he doing downstairs? Why was it so quiet? Was he robbing me? Was he watching me? Did he snore? Why did he look so freakin' familiar.

My mind wouldn't shut the fuck up and my body was dying. Sleep. I just wanted to sleep. I had to be up by three in order to make it to work on the bus on time. Why Lord? Why not on my day off? Why during one of my earliest shift are you torturing me like this?

There was a knock suddenly at my door and as I glance at the clock, it's almost nine o'clock, not even an hour since I've been laying here. There's another knock. I sighed and crawled out of bed. I held my hand and knife out as I slowly unlocked the door just a crack.

"What?" I whispered, annoyed by his presence at my door. He pouted.

"I can't sleep on that thing," he complained, "My sides are aching and I can only sleep on my side on that couch." I stared at him.

"I've only got one bed and I'm not sharing it with you," I quickly dismissed the idea, "Sleep on the floor."

"It's hardwood," he whined again.

"Then make it soft," I reasoned, "Take some cushions from the couch-"

"Oh my god..." he sighed, "I won't touch you, I swear."

"I didn't say that you would," I lied, because the thought of being rape had definitely crossed my mind. He was cute, but not that damn cute. "I just don't want to share a bed with a complete stranger." He seemed to have spaced out as he followed his gaze to my hand.

"Is that a knife?" he asked in disbelief.

"Yes," I confirmed. "Just in case."

"What?" he asked. "Is that for me?"

"Maybe," I said, "If you get crazy on me."

"I got beat up and robbed," he reminded, "I think I'm the last person you need to fear."

"And I think that I need to watch my back when strange white boys appear into my neighborhood and sleepover."

"I know that this doesn't happen often," he stated calmly.

"No, I always have beat up and bruised motherfuckers running through my crib on a daily basis." He sighed and I yawned.

"You need to relax, Sash," he told me, "I may not know my name, but I know I'm not some psycho rapist."

"First off, I said my friends call me Sash, so it's Sasheirah to you," I griped, "Secondly, I don't know you, fool. Hell, you don't know you, so just take yourself downstairs and relax a little. You're wasting precious sleeping time." I shut the door without a second thought and double checked to make sure it was locked before slipping back under my sheets.

I wasn't usually that impatient, but my well has run dry in the mist of my exhaustion. I didn't have time to baby sit a grown ass ungrateful man. He can't sleep on the couch? He's lucky he's in a warm house after a warm shower and warm food and a warm hearted woman did his body good and is still trying to handle his business. I should've left his pale ass in the street and let the wolves get him.

I never prayed so much in my life. It was taking everything in me to not tell him to get out and figure his own shit out. I'm too good of a Christian woman sometimes.

I groaned as an annoying sound disrupted my thoughts. It was my cell phone's alarm going off and I was trying to convince myself it was wrong. I didn't sleep at all. It was impossible. When did I doze off? It felt like I blinked and the alarm was going off.

As I peeled open my eyes, it was still dark out, the street light illuminating my room. I could use ten more hours of sleep, but I needed to get up and get this fool out of my house as soon as possible. That was enough motivation to get me into the shower and dressed within an hour before I rushed down the stairs. As I turned around and spotted him on the couch, I almost laughed.

There he was, sprawled out on the couch with a blanket halfway on the floor as his legs hung over the arm of the sofa and his other limbs draped over his face. His mouth was hanging open and he snored so lightly that I probably wouldn't have heard it if it wasn't so dead out.

"Yo," I called, kicking his foot with my own. He didn't move. "Dude, get up!" I pulled his leg and he weakly kicked me away and smacked his lips. "Get the fuck up, motherfucker!" My voice was booming and he groaned in protest.

"Shut up," he mumbled and I scoffed.

"Get up," I demanded, slapping his legs completely off the couch. He woke with a jump and whimpered.

"It's too early," he whined. "It's still dark out."

'It's four o'clock," I informed him, "I gotta get to the hospital and you have to come with me and get checked out."

"No," he childishly recoiled into a sitting fetal position, "I don't wanna get up."

"You don't have a choice," I said as I made my way over to the kitchen. I grabbed a can of Slim Fast from the fridge and I grabbed him a bottle of Pepsi. "C'mon," I called as he slowly peeled himself from the floor. "We got a bus to catch." I sat on the sofa he once occupied and reached beneath it, grabbing my boots and nursing shoes. Then it hit me.

He doesn't have any shoes.

"What?" he asked as I stared at his socked covered feet.

"I forgot you didn't have any shoes," I groaned in distress, "Fuck." I shook my head.

"You don't have a car?" he asked innocently and I looked at him with narrowed eyes.

"That piece of shit broke down," I informed him bitterly, "Did I not walk by you when you were calling for help?" He shrugged.

"Sorry, I didn't even think about that," he told me softly and I immediately felt bad.

"Look, I'm sorry," I sighed, "I'm tired and frustrated."

"I guess that's my fault." I looked at him with a weak smirk.

"Ya think?" He didn't say anything as I stood and walked over to the house phone. I dialed the number I had memorized for some reason and it immediately picked up.

"Mike's Cabs," a man answered, sounding as tired as I felt. I groaned and looked back at him, this familiar and unfamiliar face, who had taken a seat on the sofa and began folding up my blanket. I shook my head and ordered up a cab that had guaranteed me thirty minutes. After I hung up, he stood and looked up at me curiously.

"Do you happen to have a jacket I could burrow?" he asked cautiously, as if he thought I'd blow up at any minute. I rolled my eyes. He should be scared. That was a thirty dollar cab ride, for sure, and he didn't have a penny to help me pay for it.

I couldn't really blame him, but I was annoyed to have this money flowing out of my pockets. I now have to buy him shoes too.

"Yeah, I got a couple," I said tiredly as I walked over to the closest in my dining room. I dug through it and found my old college hoodie and a black leather jacket my ex had left behind. As he pulled the hoodie over his head he smirked as he read the bold letters.

"Temple University?" he inquired and I nodded. "Cool."

"I guess..."

"Yeah, I don't think I did the whole college thing..." he mumbled in thought, "I don't know... It doesn't feel like I have."

"College isn't for everybody," I said, "I wanted to drop out a million times."

"Maybe I dropped out," he wondered, "What if I dropped out?"

"I don't know," I answered irritably, "Apparently you didn't stop to take self defense classes." My shot at his beating didn't do anything but annoy him.

"We all can't carry around pocket knives."

"Maybe you should," I retorted, "It might keep you from getting your ass whooped and bothering innocent young nurses."

"Probably..." he agreed disinterestedly, "Well, at least I get a nice leather jacket out of it." He shrugged on the black coat and modeled in it for a moment. I shook my head, but smiled as he struck different poses. He grabbed his crotch and 'hee-hee'-ed Michael Jackson style. I had to laugh.

"You are so silly," I smiled.

"Well, I now know one thing about myself," he smirked, "And I made you smile." I shook my head.

"You're also cheesy," I added smartly, "Don't forget whiny."

"Oh, can't forget that," he sarcastically agreed. "I guess that makes me sarcastic too."

"I suppose." I looked at him for a moment and he looked me over too. I took in his smirk and the way his teeth peaked out from his mouth. His small pink mouth with good sized lips. He was handsome and stubble covered and had the nicest blue eyes I've ever taken the time to look at... God, I'm so damn cheesy. I sound like some back in the day boyband singing about twinkles and -

"Holy..." I clamped my hand over my mouth right after a gasp escaped my lips. He looked at me curiously and smirked.

"What?" He smiled and his teeth were bright and straight like they were on all those magazines and I wondered how I didn't see it before. Those eyes, that smile... his cheesy lines. Jesus Christ, it was the making of a boy bander.

"You're Justin Timberlake!" I exclaimed. I was freaking out and confused. I wasn't his biggest fan, or his closet fan for that matter, but he was standing in my dining room, staring at me like I had three heads.

"Justin Timberlake?" he questioned and shrugged. "Is that a good thing?"

"Man, you're fuckin' rich!" I laughed, "And famous, for that matter."

"What?" he asked in disbelief.

"Yeah," I confirmed, "Oh my god, what are you doing down here?"

"I don't know what the fuck you're talking about," Justin shook his head, "I don't know a Justin Timberlake."

"But you're him, you just don't remember," I sighed, "This is so... bangin'."

"How is this... bangin'?" he asked, "I don't know who this cat is and you're squealing and saying I'm rich."

"You are... like millions," I gushed, "You are so paying me back for this cab."

"I don't have any money," he reasoned, "I don't have a wallet or credit cards or anything."

"You're gonna get that back," I smiled reassuringly, "I'm sure there's like a search crew out there looking for you."

"I... I don't understand," Justin told me sadly, "If I'm who you say I am, how could I forget that? How could I not know I'm rich and famous? And if I'm so famous and rich, why didn't have ... body guards or something?" I shrugged.

"I don't know and it doesn't matter," I smirked, "You're gonna be okay really soon."

"How?"

"Because you're not a John Doe. People know you. Everybody knows you."

"Then why didn't you say something before?" he asked.

"I thought you looked familiar, but I didn't quite put it together. How was I suppose to guess that Justin Timberlake would be in the hood."

"The hood?"

"You're in the heart of North Philly," I informed him, "Did you think you got robbed by butterflies and ponies, fool?" He just stared at me and blinked and the look of relief I thought he'd have was nowhere in sight. "What is your problem? You know who you are now."

"That's just a name," he said, "I'm not just a name."

"I know, but it's a step up," I smiled, "Way up." I patted his shoulder and walked over to the closet to grab my jacket as a beep outside sounded. It was the cab and my day was looking so much brighter, even with the snow piling high and the sky being dark as ever.

"I like that color," Justin told me softly, "It looks good on you." I looked down at the baby blue jacket I wore and looked back at him.

"Thanks." I zipped up his coat like I was his mama and kicked my Sponge Bob slippers at his feet. "Put these on for now. The car ride will save us a lot snow, so these will get you to the hospital." He nodded and put them on, smiling softly.

"These are awesome," he chuckled, "Who is this guy?" I looked up at him in disbelief.

"Sponge Bob," I informed him, "Sponge Bob Square Pants."

"Hmm..." he mumbled thoughtfully, "Sponge Bob." I giggled and took his arm, leading toward the door.

"I think we should get that head of yours checked out too," I told him jokingly and he gave me a little curve of his lips.

"We don't have to go to the hospital for you to check out my head." He winked for effect and I slapped his arm.

"You are fresh," I reprimanded as we stepped outside and I locked the door. "Add that to your list."

"Done," he assured as we slowly made our way down to the double parked taxi. He held the door for me before slowly slipping inside afterwards.

"Temple University Hospital," I informed the cab driver and he nodded and started off. I turned to Justin and he was already staring at me. He didn't even bother trying to turn away and I became self-conscious. "Is there something on my face?"

"No," he answered quickly, "You've got really long eyelashes, is all."

"You act like you've never seen eyelashes before."

"I'm guessing I have," he said, "Maybe they just didn't curve the way that yours do." I looked down at my hands, fighting away the feeling of flattery.

"Or maybe you just can't remember," I challenged.

"Maybe," I heard him say before I felt a poke in my side. I jumped and slapped his hand.

"Why'd you do that?" I irritably inquired as he smirked at me. Him and these half ass smiles were irking my soul.

"I wanted you to look up at me," he said simply.

"Why didn't you just say that?"

"Because I've learned in the last twenty-four hours that you like to give directions and not take him," he smartly replied, "Besides, I now know you're ticklish."

"I am not," I denied and he poked me again, eliciting a regrettable giggle from my mouth.

"I beg to differ." I glared at him and he gave me another smirk before licking his lips. I stared at his mouth for a moment before glancing up at his eyes. He stared back.

"Call me Matt," he suddenly requested and I was uber confused.

"What?" I asked.

"Call me Matt," he repeated, "I don't like the name Justin."

"And Matt's better?"

"I really like Matthew," he shrugged, "Matt sounds like a cool guy and I think I'm a cool guy."

"Justin's cool," I said.

"Justin's taken," he complained, "Justin's a guy I'm supposed to be and I don't want to be who I'm supposed to be. I just wanna be, ya know? Matt's a cool new guy and that's me. Out with the old and in with the new."

"You can't just change who you are," I argued back, "You're Justin, not Matt, man. Suck it up."

"I'm Matt," he stated firmly, "I don't know a Justin and neither do you."

"I know Justin's sitting next to me right now," I quipped.

"Where 'cause I don't see him," he came back, "And you'll look crazy calling me Justin."

"What part of you're famous don't you understand?" I asked, "You can't change who you are because everybody will recognize you anyway."

"What if I ignore them?" he asked, "I can just tell them him and I look alike and I get confused with him all the time."

"That's not gonna work."

"Why not?" he whined, "You stayed with me for a whole day and didn't recognize me."

"That's because you were covered in blood and bruised when I found you. I was more amazed that your Casper ass was even in my neighborhood than anything else."

"Fine, then maybe everybody else around here will feel that way since I'm the only white person in a fifty mile radius."

"Or maybe you'll stick out like a sore thumb," I sighed, "Why am I doing this?"

"What?" he asked innocently.

"Arguing with you," I told him, "If you wanna be Matthew, or Matt or whatever, fine. Do that, but if somebody comes looking for a Justin Timberlake, you better be ready to leave."

"Fine," he huffed.

"Good," I added.

"Great," he retorted.

"Fan-fuckin'-tastic," I challenged and he glared at me.

"Whatever." I smiled, satisfied that I had won and looked out of the window as we drove up Broad Street. It was quiet for a moment until I heard my name being called.

"What?" I responded and I turned my head to look at him.

"Was I a bad guy?" Jus- excuse me, Matt asked.

"I dunno," I shrugged, "You seemed all right... Cocky, but all right." He nodded slowly and turned to stare out of the window. I looked at the back of his head for two seconds before looking back out of my own window.

Five minutes later, we were parked in front of the hospital entrance and I tapped Matthew to get his attention.

"We're here?" he asked, snapping out of his daze. I nodded and pulled money from my purse to pay the fare. I thanked the driver and climbed out of the car as Matt did the same. The automatic doors slid open as we stepped up and the white halls stretched in all directions. I looked back at Matt as he looked around with a small amount of fear on his face.

"You cool?" I asked and he nodded.

"Yeah..."

"Okay, well, we're going up the Ravis Building. Stay close to me." As soon as the words left my mouth, he was glued to my side. Even in the elevator ride up to the fourth floor he was crowding my space. There were a few glances from the passing, but no major break outs as we trailed up the hall toward the radiation department. I smiled when I saw Clarissa was the head nurse at the desk and she smiled at me before furrowing her brows as Just- fuck, Matt came up next to me.

"Hey, Clarissa," I smiled, "This here is Matt. Matt, this is Clarissa." They reached over the counter to shake hands and smiled with hello's.

"What can I do for y'all today?" She asked as I leaned over the counter.

"He's gonna need a CAT scan. He was robbed and they bruised some tissue around his rib cage," I informed her, "He suffered minor cuts and bruises and terrible memory loss. He couldn't even remember his name at first." He couldn't remember his name now, but I didn't want Clarissa confirming his damn identity.

"Okay, we'll take care of that," she assured me.

"Oh and could you possibly find him a room? I need to get down to the Women's Health Center before Tara kills me."

"A room?" Justin, the hell with Matt, asked.

"Yes, a room," I repeated, "You can't stay with me. You have to stay here until we can get family here."

"You mean the family I don't have?" I shushed him as he raised his voice.

"You have a family, they're just not here now," I softly cooed, "Calm down, okay?"

"No, you said an x-ray and that's it," he whined, "Now I need a room?"

"Did you honestly expect me to let you stay with me?"

"Yes!" he snapped, "You can't leave me here. I hate hospitals."

"You'll be fine," I annoyingly shrugged him off, "Just relax and I'll check up on you."

"No-"

"Clarissa," I interrupted him, "Page me when he gets a room to let me know the number, please?"

"Sure," she smiled.

"But what about-"

"Bye, Matthew," I said, cutting him short and hurriedly walking away.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

I had the next two days off and I couldn't have been more grateful. I slept in until noon and ate some lunch before I picked up my repaired Buick. The day was looking good. Little Bob and I were cozied up on the couch for a brief moment before I remember that I needed to give that mofo a visit and buy him some shoes since I've been too busy working for the last three days to even pop in to say hello.

I also needed to give him back the clothes I found him in. I didn't wash them because I didn't know if he wanted to press charges and needed evidence. I was sure somebody was going to feel the wrath of his expensive attorney if news got out that Justin Timberlake had been attacked.

I grabbed the plastic ACME bag I put his clothes in and gave Bob a rub down before leaving my house. It had stopped snowing, but it was still cold and white everywhere. I got to my car without slipping and as the engine fired up, I switched on the heat and put it in drive. The ride to the hospital was relaxed and warm and I waved at our parking advisor Dean as I pulled into the employee area.

Things were looking good until I reached the front desk and Clarissa shook her head at me like I had done her wrong. I slowed my jolly stroll and inched my way over to the counter.

"What?" I asked cautiously.

"Matt hasn't eaten in three days," she informed me, "He won't wash or talk." I frowned deeply.

"Why? Is he sick?" She shook her head.

"No," she answered, "Not that I know of. His scans were normal and his brain waves are fine. Memory's still shot to hell because he hasn't asked for family or friends yet."

"Okay," I said, taking in her news, "I'll go check up on him." She nods and I head up the hall to the elevator. I took it up to the seventh floor and made a left down to room 735. I knocked and got no reply so I just opened it up. I figured that I already saw him naked and there wasn't much else he could do to shock me.

"So nice of you to come by," he bitterly greeted as I slipped inside. I looked up at him on the bed and there was a tray of food in front of him that hadn't been touched.

"Why aren't you eating?" I scolded, "... Or talking for that matter."

"First off all, I do eat," he argued, picking up a small plate that had Jell-O pieces on it. "I only like the gelatin here."

"That's the worse thing on the menu," I scoffed. "The frozen yogurts pretty good."

"Well, I don't get a menu, I get this," he gestured to the chicken and vegetables on his tray, "When I had a bite of that chicken, I had to cough because it was so dry." I smiled.

"You're getting three, free square meals a day, my friend," I pointed out, "Beggars can't be choosers."

"I didn't beg anybody to be here," he pouted, "You abandoned me."

"Oh, hush," I waved him off, "I'm taking you shopping today." His eyes lit up.

"Really?" he gushed.

"Now, calm down," I told him, "Just for some shoes at Payless. It's not that deep."

"Anything's better than laying around here." I walked over to his bedside and lowered the barrier so that he could get out. I helped him stand and took a good whiff of him.

"Boy, you must wash your stank behind," I coughed. "You funk." He rolled his eyes, but blush was creeping into his cheeks.

"Well, Nurse Betty, get the sponges." I laughed drily.

"Do I look like I'm working?" I asked rhetorically as I buzzed a nurse from his bed's call button. "Nurse Shannon will be scrubbing your Doodleberries." He chuckled and two seconds later, Shannon was in the room, gleaming. She was always too damn happy for me.

"What are you doing out of bed, Mr. Matt?" she cheerfully inquired and I almost gagged as I took in her bushell of brown curls and bright green eyes. Her wide grin made her look like a clown and her spotless white scrubs amazed me with their crisp look. How much starch did the bitch use?

I looked at Justin to see if he was thinking the same thing, but by the way he was checking her out, I doubted it. I grimaced and looked back at Shannon. She was young. Probably my age. We went to Temple together, but she placed into Jefferson's nursing program a year before me and kicked ass. Top of her class. I wondered if she ever got pissed off that she was still changing bed pans and giving sponge baths like the rest of us.

"Well, Nurse..." Justin trailed off and Shannon smiled even wider. Her face was going to stretch out, I'm sure. Lots of wrinkles and lines...

"It's Shannon," she sweetly supplied and Justin nodded and smiled.

"That's quite a name there," he stupidly said as I narrowed my eyes. Her name was Shannon, not much to it if you ask me. My name's Sasheirah and the only comment I got was 'Sasheirah? Hwo the hell do you spell that?'

"He needs a bath," I told her irritably, "And quickly, please, he has to get some things." Shannon looks at me and I don't miss the damper in her smile. I wasn't her favorite person either, not that we've been in stiff competition and at each other's throats. I guess we just have that gut feeling that we could never be friends.

"Okay, I can do that," she told me as she moved to a storage closet in the corner of Justin's room. She pulled out some soap and other supplies and I stood and watched as she made her way over to Justin.

"Do I just undress?" he asked her and I wanted to roll my eyes and say No, fool, you bathe with your clothes on.

"Yeah, you can just-" Shannon cut herself short as she cleared her throat. "Umm... Sasheriah, maybe you should wait outside."

"Oh... right," I mumbled as I walked over to the door, "I'll be down the hall." I exited the room and shut the door behind me, rolling my eyes.

Men.

All they need is another pretty face and a thinner waist before they forget about who had their back in their time of need. What happened to all that bullshit about wanting to live with me and being 'abandoned'? What happened to my long lashes and the way they curve? What about-

Wait, what the fuck am I doing? I don't care. Justin can do whatever he wants, but I hope he knows and appreciates the fact that I'm the one who took him in and got him checked up and fed and clothed.

I decided to just wait outside the door because I'd be too tempted to leave and enjoy my day alone than spend my money on Justin. Besides, I had to give him this bag of crap so I wouldn't forget and end up taking it back home again. I just paced back and forth for what seemed like an eternity before the door finally opened and Shannon stepped out, smiling to herself until she saw me.

"He's changing," she told as she shut the door behind her. I smiled, a closed mouth, plastered smile, and waved her off.

"Oh, that's fine," I assured cheerfully, "I've seen him naked already." I don't wait for a reaction, I just walk around her and step into the room, locking the door behind me. I turned in time to see Justin put his sweats on beneath his gown before I I walked over to his beside and placed his ACME bag of bloody clothes onto his mattress.

"That's in case you wanna press charges or something." I informed him, "Don't wash it. Evidence...blah, blah, blah..."

"I don't think I will," Justin sighed as he pulled his gown off completely, revealing his bruised up sides and cut stomach. I think his scars made his body look a little hotter and harder than normal and I was almost sad when he put on his shirt.

"Really?" I asked curiously and he shrugged as he slipped on the hospital issued slippers that were plain black and looked a whole lot more normal than my Sponge Bob ones.

"Yeah..." he breathed, "I just... I dunno. I can't remember my name, let alone the accident. Besides, I just think... I dunno. Maybe I just need to have a clean slate and let things go."

"You were beat into a loss of memory," I reminded.

"Yeah, but I don't look that bad," he smirked, "Got all my teeth and some bruised ribs. I got a little lump... well, lumps, on my head, but other than that... I feel good."

"Don't forget the nice purple ring around your eye and a cut on your lip and the swollen brow tissue..."

"Minor details," he dismissed, "I can walk without that much assistance." He limped over to a silver, sterilized cane. I raised a brow.

"That's your assistance?" I asked.

"It's better than the walker they were trying to give me," he smirked, "It eases the pain. My legs are starting to kill me." I sadly nodded.

"Well, we'll just work with it, gramps," I joked, "I got my car out of the shop, so you won't be walking much."

"Cool," he smiled, "I'm glad your car's fixed."

"Fixed enough," I mumbled as I walked over to retrieve his jacket from a hook on the wall as well as his hoodie. I helped him put them on over his clothes before holding the door open for him. He slowly went through and I followed behind before walking alongside him.

"Was it that busted?" Justin asked and I shrugged.

"Carborator... Orborator... I dunno," I smirked, "It's just old..."

"Yeah, I know," he said, "Maybe I could take a look at it."

"Why?" I asked, "You know anything about cars?"

He shrugged. "I don't know... I guess we'll see." We reached the elevator doors and I laughed.

"We won't be seeing anything on my car," I told him, "You're not having any memory testing experiments on my car."

"Fine, fine," he sighed, "But I think I do know how to work a car. I feel like I do."

"Well, you and your feelings can wait until you buy your own car to fuck around on," I said as we stepped onto the arriving elevator. I pressed the lobby button and we rode down silently. As we reached the main lobby, Clarissa smiled and waved goodbye as Justin and I returned the gesture as we exited the hospital. We made our way to my car and I helped him inside before strolling to the driver's side.

I glanced over at Justin as I placed my seat belt on and he stared out of the window.

"You okay?" I asked as I placed the key into the ignition.

"Yeah," he replied as I turned the key and put the car in reverse. "No."

"What's wrong?" I distractedly asked as cautiously backed out before placing myself into drive.

"I know that losing my memory sucks and all," he began and I nodded as I turned onto Broad and headed north.

"Yeah, it does," I agreed.

"I'm suppose to be sad and wondering, ya know? It's been about four days... Maybe more since I can't remember anything before seeing you, and nobody has come for me. Nobody has come looking and there's been no news... I've watched every channel and nobody has said a word about me or Justin Timberlake."

"Well, maybe you disappear from time to time and nobody's worrying..." I tried to reason, but he just sighed deeply beside me.

"Not even a phone call?" he wondered out loud, "I think I'd call. Hell, if I had your number, I would've called you every day for the last three days I haven't seen you. Just to see if things were fine and to make sure you were actually coming back..." He stressed the word enough to make me glance from the road and roll my eyes at him.

"I was working."

"Whatever," he grumbled, "See, that's the point, I instinctively wanted to do that which means that if I'm this Justin Timberlake character, I probably would've been the same way."

"I dunno, man," I told him honestly, "Maybe something happened before you left... Maybe... Maybe they did call and you were mad before you came here and they figured you'd call when you weren't mad."

"Or maybe I'm a douchebag and everybody I know hopes I'm dead."

"Damn, Debby Downer, maybe you need to fuckin' relax," I said, laughing drily.

"I'm serious, Sasheirah," Justin told me earnestly, "Maybe I'm an asshole and this is somebody's way of helping me redeem myself."

"By getting you beat up?"

"No, by erasing my head and allowing me to start again," he clarified. "Maybe I'm not meant to be this Justin guy anymore."

"But you are him," I said, "You aren't dead, just forgetful."

"Maybe I'm forgettable," he continued, "Maybe I'm here now because this were I'm suppose to be."

"You are not suppose to be here, Justin," I scoffed, "You are meant to be on the Hollywood Hills somewhere with your ten dogs and six cars and private jets." I pulled up to a red light and turned and look at him. "You're not suppose to be riding passanger side of my broke down Buick with bruises all over your baby face." He turned and looked at me.

"Maybe I like riding passanger side," he smiled dreamily, "Maybe I like riding with you." I stared at him for a moment before a blaring horn snapped my mind back into reality. I hit the gas and continued down the road.

"You had a bad accident," I said, "You stepped into the wrong neighborhood at the wrong time and met the wrong people-"

"Who led me to the right person for help," he reasoned, "What the hell are the chances that the first face I see is that of a beautiful, young nurse?" I tried not to be flattered by the beautiful part, but my stomach ached with surpressed giggles.

"You're not that far from Temple," I argued, "A lot of us nurses live around here."

"Your car broke down," he shot back, "Of all the days your car breaks down the moment that I need help. If you were driving, you would've driven right past me."

"It was the worst day of snowing, Justin!" I shook my head, "You're being ridiculous."

"You're being too... uptight," Justin frowned, "Why can't you just go with me on this."

"Because it's stupid." He scoffed. "Justin, it's stupid."

"My name is Matt," he corrected as he looked out of the window. I turned on Summerdale Road and sighed.

"Your name is Justin Timberlake and you need to accept that," I told him through gritted teeth.

"Your name is Sasheirah and you are not the name police," he said in the same mock tone, "And you need to accept that." I rolled my eyes as I pulled into the NorthWest Shopping Plaza and found a parking spot in front of Payless.

"Whatever," I groaned, turning off the car and getting out. I stomped over to his side and helped him out, despite his stubborn grunts about being able to do it himself. He settled with his cane as I locked all the doors and led him inside the store. The door chimed and we were greeted as I headed down the men's section.

"They're having a BOGO sale," Justin observed as he looked at the sign, "Buy One, Get One 50% off."

"You can pick out two pairs of something," I reluctantly told him, "Don't get crazy because we're going to Target to get you some clothes." He nodded and began his search as I sat on the edge of a bench.

"You're not gonna get anything?" Justin asked.

"No, not here," I said, "Maybe some undies from Target." He looked up at me and wiggled his eyebrows.

"Nice," he smiled and I rolled my eyes, but smiled to myself.

"You can add perverted to your list too." He laughed and nodded.

"Done."

"I dunno..." I mumbled with uncertainty as I twirled around in front of the three way mirror of the dressing room. I could see Justin rolling his eyes and throwing up his hands in frustration in the mirror's reflection. He sat on a ottoman with his cane resting between his open legs as I twisted and turned and complained. I finally pouted. "It's just not me."

"Do you even know who you are?" he asked and I gave him a bored expression.

"One should talk, Matt." He sighed and stood slowly before he hobbled closer to me with his cane. He looked like an old ass man and my heart went out to him before he grabbed my shoulder and forced me to turn and face him.

"Look," he began, "Your figure is just great in this blouse. The stitching of the back curves you in and gives you a thinner waist-" I glared at him before he quickly added, "Not that you need one. It's just flattering all around. The flannel even looks good. Not many people can pull off flannel." I raised a brow.

"I think you might've been gay in your other life," I told him and he laughed as he shook his head.

"I don't know much about my old self, but gay? No."

"How can you be so sure?" I asked as I turned around and surveyed this fabulous stitching that flattered me. I guess I could see it.

"Because..." Justin trailed off and I sighed and shook my head.

"No," I decided, "I look like a butch farmer." I unbuttoned the blouse and revealed my white tank underneath. Justin shook his head.

"You're crazy," he told me, "That looked great on you."

"Yeah, yeah," I dismissed, "You're not convincing me to buy this, but I'm convinced you're as gay now as you were before."

"Why does a guy have to be gay the moment he's fashionable?" he pondered allowed. "That's such a terrible stereotype."

"You're also whiny, emotional, and too... I dunno," I said as I hung the shirt back up and slipped on my black sweater. "I've learned through all my years that any man who seems practically perfect is either gay, taken, or both. You can't have it all, ya know?" I put on my jacket and gathered all of my crap and as I turned to head out, I found a smiling Justin staring me down. "What?"

"You just said I was perfect," he grinned and I silently recounted my previous statement before shaking my head.

"No, I said you seem perfect," I corrected, "Not you, now, but who you were before... who you are now, despite your denial. I'm talking about the Big Shot on the cover of the magazines and whatnot. The way you're portrayed by the outter world."

"Right..." he mumbled disbelievingly and I rolled my eyes.

"You wanna add cocky to your list, or did you pick that up already?" He just smiled at me and playfully nudged me.

"It's okay," he cooed, "You can keep dreamin' about me and frontin'. I know how you really feel." It was my turn to laugh as I shook my head.

"Those guys really did a number on that big ass head of yours," I smirked. I grinned wider as he self-consciously touched his head as I brushed past him and out of the fitting room.

"Is it really that big?" I heard him ask from behind me as I handed the fitting room girl my unwanted blouse.

"Yes," I answered honestly, "I really wonder how you keep yourself balanced."

"Oh, ha. Ha." I chuckled at his dry laugh, but continued to tease him.

"Seriously, it's like... a golf ball on the tip of a toothpick," I paused to turn and look at him. He placed a hand on his slender hip and leaned on his cane with a bored expression as I examined his figure. "Yep, ball and pick."

"Are you sure this nursing thing is for you?" he asked, "'Cause you should consider being a comedian. Really, you're a riot." His dry sarcasm was met with my own; annoying him further, to my satisfaction.

"Actually, I have," I gushed, "I crack myself up all the time."

"Yeah, yourself," Justin stressed, "Remember that." I rolled my eyes and trailed over to the lingere section. I could hear Justin wolf whistle and turned to face him.

"Don't even start, grandpa," I warned jokingly and he smiled, freigning innocence.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he said, jutting out his bottom lip for a full effect.

"You're also full of shit, Matthew," I smiled as I turned back around and headed toward a wall of Hane's underwear packs, "Add that to your list."

"Okay, but I've been thinking..." Justin said as I stopped in front of the wall and felt him close behind, "How come you don't have a list?"

"Because I'm not an annoying jackass..." I mumbled as I searched for my size in string bikinis.

"Well, I do believe that depends on a person's perspective." I slowly turned my neck to face him with a blank stare.

"You wanna tell me something, fool?" He shrugged nonchalantly and aimlessly picked at the underwear in front of him.

"No, I'm not one for name calling," he said calmly as I rolled my eyes and turned back to the selection front of me, smiling triumphantly as I found my size. "But if the shoe fits..."

"You shove it up a white boy's ass?" I supplied and smiled as I raised my undies up. "Got 'em." Justin shook his head as I turned away and headed up to the men's section; the reason for me being here in the first place.

"I'm well aware of that I'm white," he said after a moment of silent rack browsing. I picked up a gray polo from the clearance section and glanced over at Justin.

"Yay or nay?" I asked and he rolled his eyes.

"Did you even hear a word I said?" I pouted and ignored him.

"Nay." I decided and placed the shirt back. I heard his frustrated sigh.

"Why do you care anyway?" he asked and I rolled my eyes.

"I don't."

"Then why do you always bring it up?" he bangered on. "It's always 'white boy this... and white boy that'."

"I dunno..." I answered honestly, "It just comes out when you piss me off."

"So I guess you're racist then," he stupidly concluded and I huffed.

"Oh, I'm racist?" I asked, "So is that why I'm buying your cracka ass clothes and is that why I picked your Casper ass up outta the streets and mended your wounds?"

"Oh dear god," he groaned, "Mended my wounds? Relax, Mother Theresa." I placed my hands on my hips and defiantly slapped down the white t-shirt I had picked up.

"You're a fuckin' ass," I all but screamed, "I take care of you out of the kindness of my heart and you can't even appreciate it."

"I do appreciate it," Justin argued, "I just would appreciate it more if I wasn't reminded of it every time I question something you say or do. I'd appreciate it even more if I wasn't constantly being called a white boy or Casper or cracker... I mean, for the love of god, woman, what am I suppose do? Get a tan? Go back in time and get black parents or get beat up in a white neighborhood so you wouldn't have to deal with me?" The more he spoke, the more he was right and the more I wanted to tell him to shut the fuck up.

"Shut the fuck up." Fuck wanting it, I had it now and by the look on his face, I could tell it would be reluctantly obeyed. We silently shopped the rest of the time we were in Target. Justin ended up being a medium/large and unfortunately, there were a lot of his size.

"232.78 is your total." I sighed and glared at Justin who was conveniently turned away from me. I shook my head and put my Target card into the slot, watching it suck up and then be spit out again. I signed the screen and pressed okay and waited for my receipt. "Have a good day."

Easy for you to say, my friend. You didn't have to pay that bill at the end of the month. I grabbed all the bags and slapped Justin's hand away as he tried to reach for one.

"Let me help you," he said and I picked up every last bag like I didn't hear him. I heard him let go of a breath as he hobbled behind me. We exited the store and I stood for a moment and tried to remember where I parked. I could never fuckin' remember where I parked when I went shopping. It was a flaw of mine. One of many and in my annoyed state of mind, I was just about ready to scream until-

"It's over here," Justin said tapping my arm and pointing to my distant car on the left. I was heading right, but I tried to play it off as I turned my direction and strolled acorss the lot. As I approached my dark green Buick LaSabre, I placed the bags on the ground and dug through my pockets for my keys. They jingled from behind me and I turned and saw Justin smiling. I walked over to him and snatched them from his hand.

"Stay out of my pockets," I reprimanded as I unlocked the trunk and placed the bags inside.

"FYI, Sash, they fell out of your pocket when you were too busy angrily digging for your Target card." I rolled my eyes and slammed the trunk shut when I was done. "You're welcome." I sighed and walked up to the passanger side, swining open the door.

"You getting in?" Justin tiredly looked up at me and shrugged.

"Don't really have a choice..." he mumbled as he hobbled his way to where I stood. I took his cane and leant it against the car as I aided him into his seat.

"Here," I said, handing him his cane before shutting the door and moving to my side. I slipped inside and locked the doors before starting up the ignition. As the car warmed, I flicked on the heat and sat back in my seat. I was being rude and as I glanced over at Justin, I could tell he was pretty much done with my attitude with him staring off into the distance and spacing out again. I wanted to apologize, but my pride would not allow it, so I waved the tiniest white flag I could find.

"Thank you," I muttered, "...for my keys." Even though I only caught a glimpse of his satisfied face before I turned back to my car and put it in drive, it was enough to make my skin crawl with defeat.

"Thank you," he retorted with a small laugh. "That wasn't so bad, was it?" he asked as I pulled out of the lot and onto the street. I headed down Castor Ave this time to avoid the main streets.

"Actually, it was," I told him, "Down right painful."

"Now that's a shame," he smiled and I heard it in his voice. "You have to be some kind of evil to feel pain in kindness."

"You picked up my keys, that hardly qualifies as kindness," I argued, "Now, if you did something amazing like helping a complete stranger by taking them out of the street and taking care of them and buying them clothes..."

"I get it, woman," he groaned, "No need to reinerate."

"I'm just making sure you don't forget," I said, "People have been far too forgetful in my life." As the words leave my mouth, I quickly regret them. What the hell was I doing saying shit like that to him?

There was a silence, deep and awkward and I could feel him burning a hole into the side of my head.

"So is that your problem?" he asked gently, "People not appreciating what you did for them?" I sighed and licked my drying lips.

"Isn't that everybody's problem?" I could see him shrugging out of the corner of my eye.

"I guess it depends on what they're not appreciating." He paused. "Like a mom could have problems with her kids because they don't appreciate her hardwork. A man can be angry because his girl doesn't appreciate his love and cheats-"

"You'd know all about that, wouldn't you?" I laughed to myself, "Mr. Cry Me a River."

"Why would I know that?" he asked, "And what's 'Cry Me a River'?" I shook my head, smiling as I remembered he didn't know what I was referring to.

"Nothin'," I waved off, "You'll remember later."

"Okay... well, is that your problem?"

"What?" I asked dumbly.

"Did your kids do you wrong or was it a guy?" I stopped at a red light.

"First off, no kids. Whatsoever. I hate the little bastards," I told him, "Secondly, my man problems; if any, are just that - mine. No offense, but you're not my best friend so I won't be dishing out my dirt to you any time soon."

"Okay, okay..." he said, holding his hands up in mock surrender, "But I'm a patient man, so I can wait for that time for dirt dishing."

"Who says you're gonna be around that long?"

"Who said it would be long and who said I wouldn't be around?"

"Whatever..." It was so pointless talking to him sometimes.

"So who is?" he asked as I made a left on Rhawn Street.

"Who's what?" I asked curiously before I made a right on Broad.

"Who's your best friend?" I sighed and was quiet for a moment. I didn't like the topic of best friends. They were severely overrated, in my opinion. I had a best friend once. I actually had four at a time, but life went on and things changed. Half of it was dumb shit, the other half... not so much.

"I don't have one," I answered as nonchalantly, "They're stupid. A friend is a friend. It's foolish to name someone the best." I settled into the left lane and waited for the traffic to go by as I put my signal on, ready to turn into employee parking again. The hospital was well lit and illuminated the snow in the darkness of the evening.

"Wait," Justin said, "So you never had one?" I turned when it cleared and slowed for a speed bump.

"I did..." I trailed off.

"Well. . . what happened?" I pulled into an empty spot and parked. I took the key from the ignition.

"You ask too many damn questions." I unbuckled my belt and sat back.

"You don't really answer any of them, that's why," he told me seriously, "You're impossible to read. I have to ask to know anything."

"You say it like it's a bad thing."

"It's not...some times," Justin yawned. "I think I had a best friend."

"Everybody wanted to be your best friend," I smiled, "Shit, friend or lover."

"What did you want to be?"

"I wanted to be your bank account," I laughed and he joined me as he shook his head.

"You're terrible," he smiled, "But I like you." I laughed tangled itself in my mouth and I cleared my throat and turned from him.

"Oh.... thanks," I said with uncertainty and I could hear him fidgeting beside me.

"I didn't mean it like that," he clarified, "Not that I couldn't, but I'm just saying... you're cool. Unbearably mean and sarcastic, but cool nevertheless."

"Thanks, I guess," I mumbled, desperately searching for a subject change.

"So anyway, best friends," he clapped his hands, "What happened there?" I turned my head back to him.

"Didn't I already tell you you're not my best friend?"

"Apparently, nobody is anyway," he quipped, "You might as well tell me."

"You are nowhere in the range of close friend. Hell, you're not even my friend," I snorted, "I don't know you."

"You can."

"I have boundaries, Justin. You need to respect them."

"I respected the boyfriend thing," he whined, "I can't even get in on this one?"

"No!" I laughed and rubbed my hands down my face, "You're so annoying."

"Feeling's mutual," he retorted, "But thank you for today."

"Whatever," I yawned, "You owe me five hundred dollars."

"I spent like three somethin', max."

"Boy, you're a millionaire," I reminded, "I'm charging for that taxi and food and time-"

"Time?!" he laughed, "You're kidding me."

"I'm not," I assured, although my smile was telling him otherwise, "Don't let the grin fool you, my friend, gas ain't cheap and neither am I."

"Fine, I got you one of these days when I get my bank account back," Justin promised, crossing his finger over his heart, "I'm gonna repay you for everything and so much more. I swear." I squirmed beneath the scrutiny of his eyes and looked away.

"We should probably get inside before we freeze in here," I said, despite the fact that it was quite comfortable in the car. Justin paused, but then began to get his cane ready as he unlocked his door. I slipped from the car and walked over to his side as he tried to stubbornly get out without help. It was a terrible sight as he hissed in pain and I reached out to hold him.

"One of these days, I won't be embarrassed to be held by you," he chuckled as he settled up with his cane.

"Justin, that day will never come because I'll only hold you when you're unable to hold yourself up."

"Isn't that always the case when somebody holds another?"

"What are you talking about?" I asked distractedly as I opened the trunk of my car and began to grab the bags. I was so concerned with balancing myself that I didn't realize he had hobbled his way over until he grabbed three of the five bags I had been ready to carry from my hands.

"I'm talking about somebody being unable to hold themselves together..." he explained, "Therefore, they allow another person to open up their safe, warm arms and embrace them to get them through whatever bullshit they're going through." I stared him down as he stared me down as well. I hated looking anybody straight in the eyes, but I didn't want to give up. He was making me seem soft and I wasn't going to allow that.

"Some people don't need to be held," I told him as I reached for the bags in his hands. He pulled them back and never broke eye contact.

"Some people don't know how to ask for help," he challenged, "Or accept it, for that matter." I rolled my eyes, finding a reason to finally look away.

"Is this the part where I confess I'm insecure?" My voice was strong, but something deep within me trembled with my words.

"Not necessarily," Justin shrugged, "But it's a start."

"Justin, here's some things you can add to my list," I said, standing up straight, "I'm stubborn as hell, I don't need nor ask for help, and no matter how many problems I have had to deal with, I don't let it get to me. And I'm definitely not a fan of the whole psychoanalysis thing either."

He laughed and shook his head. "I guess you can add unhuman to that list because nobody can say something like that with a straight face."

"We all can't be emotional, fashionable, gay men," I retorted.

"Can I add immature and full of shit to your list?"

"Fuck you," I scoffed.

"Angry too," he teased, "Your list is getting a little long here, babe."

"I'm not your babe, fool," I spat as I brushed past him and headed toward the side doors of the hospital. I could hear his cane clanking on the cement as he followed behind.

"Melodramatic?" he continued, "A scoffer, a sigher, and a huffer."

"Shut up!" I called to him before the automatic doors slid open and let me in.

"One more! One more!" he cheefully exclaimed as he made his way beside me.

"Say something again and I'm gonna punch you in the balls."

"Why so serious?" Justin smiled, "I can see why you like this list thing so much now. They're fun."

"I no longer have a list," I stated firmly, "We're back to working on yours. Add jackass and childish to it."

"Oh, no, no..." Justin wagged a finger in protest, "You cannot take back the list. It's been done."

"Says who?" I argued as we turned down a quiet hall, "You didn't make up the list, I did."

"Actually, I'm the one who started when I told you I knew something about myself that I didn't know before-"

"Oh my god, shut up," I groaned as we reached Ridner Hall's elevator. I pressed the up arrow and it lit up as Justin snickered beside me.

"Does everybody usually get under your skin this quickly?" he inquired and I rolled my eyes.

"No, you happen to be the first to make me roll my eyes so much that I fear they'll become stuck that way."

"Cool," he chuckled, "That's probably the nicest thing you've said to me all night." I narrowed my eyes at him as the elevator arrived and we stepped in.

"You're an idiot."

"And you're mad," Justin smirked.

"Do your really enjoy biting the hand that feeds you?"

"Only when it's yours."

"Seriously, you couldn't have possibly been this annoying before you got beat up because how in the world could anybody adore you?"

"Why don't you tell me?"

"How would I know?"

"Because you adore me, baby," he grinned, "You adore so much and you can't even stand it."

"I don't know you to adore you."

"Oh, but you do," he argued, "You know all I know about me. What more can I give you when I've lost myself completely?"

"You're babbling."

"I'm telling you how I feel," Justin said and I rolled my eyes for the billionth time.

"Well don't," I requested, "You're much more tolerable when you're not talking."

"Fine, I'll be quiet."

"Good," I added.

"Great," he retorted.

"Fan-fuckin'-tastic," I shot back and he glared at me.

"That world should be removed from your vocabulary," he complained.

"And you should be removed from my life." I squeezed my eyes shut and wished him away before I opened one eye comically.

"Nope, still here," Justin shrugged, "Sorry, sweetums." I sighed dramatically.

"Damn it," I cursed, "I should've clicked my heels three times." He chuckled.

"Wizard of Oz..." he mumbled thoughtfully, "I remember that."

"How can you remember the Wizard of Oz and no Sponge Bob?" I asked and he shrugged.

"I don't know," he smirked, "I wish I could remember my bank's account number above all things. Or at least my social security number."

"That would be nice," I sighed in agreement. The elevator dinged and we both stepped out onto his floor, trailing slowly aside one another.

"Sash," he called gently and I looked up at him.

"What?" I asked, not bothering to correct him for using my nickname.

"Thank you," he said and I waved him off.

"It's whatever," I said, ready to dismiss the subject, but he put up his cane to stop me from walking.

"Seriously," he said, holding my gaze, "You were mad when you said I didn't appreciate what you're doing for me and I know that you mostly said that out of anger, but I can't help but feel like somewhere in you, you're feeling underappreciated. I don't know if that's from me or from the people you don't like to talk about, but I apologize. You're really all I've got right now and I don't want you don't get frustrated with me. So... thank you... a million times over."

As I stared back into the blues of this mysterious man, I couldn't help but wonder if all that nonsense about destiny he talked of in the car was true. I couldn't help but wonder why I was being such a bitch to somebody who couldn't help but be dependent on me. Yeah, he was annoying and whiny and straight up clingy sometimes, but I could see through his eyes that part of him was terrified and I was the only person he felt comfortable enough to be all those soul irking things without so much as a second thought.

I envied him for a moment and wished I could be that open. If I had been him, I probably would've laid in that snow and died instead of called out for help just to prove a point... To whom, I don't know. I would've been so caught up in not showing my wounded and hurt self that I'd face death rather than a helping hand.

I had to stop myself from frowning on the outside as much as I was on the inside. That would've just started another round of 21 questions with this boy and I wasn't really in the mood.

"You're welcome," I finally told him before continuing up the hall. He took a moment to follow, but the clanking of his cane against the tiled floor soon sounded in my ears as I smiled. It wasn't as annoying as it was before; the sounds of him following me like a lost puppy.

I guess I could kinda-sorta-maybe-just-a-little-but-not-too-much...get used to it. To him. To his whining and pouting and bruised up face.

It made my stomach churn.

I cannot believe he was kicking my ass like this. Scrabble is my game and he was kicking my ass.

"That's bullshit," I groaned as Justin smiled and sat cross-legged on his bed, which was also our table for the moment. The Scrabble board was laid out mid-way on the wrinkled white sheets as his blanket sat in a crumpled heap at the foot of his bed, right beside our bags of McDonald's.

"Actually, that's igneous," Justin smartly replied as he laid down the 's' and sat back with the smuggest smile I've ever seen. "It's one of the three basic rock types." I raised a brow and huffed.

"You know igneous, but not your name..."

He shrugged and smiled. "Sorry, I can't help if I remember these things," he told me, "But I'm not sorry that you're getting served by the white boy with a cane."

"Ha, grandpa, I get it," I mumbled as I glanced down at my watch, "But I gotta go now." Justin let out the most pitiful whimper and tossed his head back.

"Why?" he whined as I cleared the board and tossed everything back into the box.

"Because I have a job to do and people to attend to," I smirked. "I'll let you kick my ass later."

"Oh, what's that?" he perked up instantly, "Did somebody willingly admit they loss? No, never that. The morphine is just too good."

"Shut up," I laughed, tossing out the now empty McDonald's bags. "I may not ask for help, but I'm big enough to admit I've lost to a worthy competitor."

"And I get a compliment?" Justin gasped dramatically and covered his heart with his hand, "I must be dead. God, is that you?" I slapped his knee lightly and shook my head.

"You're an ass."

"Now, that's my Sash." I rolled my eyes and leaned behind him to fluff his pillows before he scooted back and rested against them. "You work too much."

"Mmm..." I mumbled thoughtfully as I shook his blanket out and laid it over him. "I don't work enough." He gave me a sympathetic smile. It was telling me I was lying to myself.

"I can't imagine having those crazy hours," he told me softly, "I like getting up late and doing nothing." I chuckled and idly played with the frayed ends of his sheet.

"Everybody loves to do that," I told him, "But you're Justin Timberlake, man. You toured all the time."

"Doing what?" he asked and it suddenly dawned on me that I never once mentioned what it was that he did.

"You were a singer," I said, "You sang and danced and I think you even had some movies on your belt." His eyes widened in shock and curiousity.

"Word?" he chuckled, "That's crazy."

"Yeah, it is," I said, "You worked more than I did. I can't imagine singing and dancing every night in front of millions..."

"Millions?" he breathed, "Wow."

"You were fairly popular," I told him, "You were in a boyband before hand though; 'Nsync. Y'all had a great run too." I thought for a second. "... You had a really good career now that I think about it."

"I'm a millionaire, right?" Justin smirked, "I guess I did have it pretty good for myself."

"You earned it though," I said, "You were so smooth that every hormonal teenage girl wanted to chew the gum you chewed and would cry if they got a glance of you."

"Are you serious?" Justin laughed out loud, "Why? I'm just...me." I shrugged.

"Well, you meant a lot to them for some reason," I quickly stated, "I gotta go though."

"Wait..." Justin called as I walked over to the door.

"What?" I asked over my shoulder and Justin placed his arm beneath his head as he stared at me with a tiny smile.

"What about you?"

"What about me?" I asked.

"Did I make you wanna cry?" I laughed and he joined me.

"Absolutely...not," I retorted, "You were never my type. Too Hollywood."

"And now?" he called as I turned the knob of the door.

"Now what?"

"Now... I'm not Hollywood," he said, gesturing around his room, "I'm just a white boy who got his ass kicked and is laying in bed with bruised ribs and a lil' bit of morphine."

"Exactly," I said, "That's what you are now and that's all you are to me."

"Really?" he continued and I nodded, "Is it because my bank account is M.I.A.?" I laughed and shook my head.

"No."

"Is it... is it my whiteness?" he smiled, "Am I a goofy white guy with a big head?" I laughed again.

"Justin, I gotta go..."

"C'mon, girl..." he chuckled, "Tell me what it is?"

"Why does it matter?" I asked, smiling softly, "You don't want me and I don't want you. We're friends... and that's a title that's hard to come by. Be happy that you have that."

"I am," he assured, "I'm happy with friends... I was just teasing." He looked down at me and for a moment I caught his eye.

"Okay then... I'll see you when I get off?" He nodded.

"If you don't forget me," he pouted as I rolled my eyes.

"Boy, feel blessed that I'm taking time out of my day to talk to you."

"And feel bless that I'm here to listen to you talk."

"Whatever, Justin," I said dismissively as I walked out of the door.

"And it's Matthew!" he called as it closed behind me. I rolled my eyes again. I've been doing that whole lot more over the last two weeks... I've also been laughing a lot too. I guess things balanced out with Justin a little. He annoyed me greatly, but he knew how to tell a joke. I guess that's why I've been on my best behavior for the last six days. I've visited in the morning and brought him breakfast. I've snuck him Mickey D's for lunch, and I've brought him food from home for dinner.

And he... he's been good. Talks like a motherfucker. Annoys my soul. Whiny as ever too, but sweet... Big on eye contests and flattery, but nothing short of a genuinely nice guy. We've spent so much time together over the course of a few days that I've become comfortable with the idea of him being my friend. I don't correct the 'Sash's anymore (although the 'babe's and 'baby's are getting a bit out of hand) and I've been holding back the white jokes.

He seems appreciative and I most definitely appreciate that.

"Sasheirah!" I stopped in my tracks when I heard Shannon's annoying voice from behind me. I pressed the down button on the elevator and turned to her as I waited.

"Yeah?" I asked as she jogged up to me.

"Scott Masterson wanted to speak to you," she said, a bit breathlessly, "Something about Matthew." I held the breath I had for a moment as I wondered why Scott Materson, head of the hospital, wanted to talk to me. I had spoken to him a few times and he's shared a couple of lunches with the nurses, but other than that... he was just the boss man.

"Okay..." I said slowly as I thought about all the reasons for this interest in Justin, but only one reason stuck out in my mind: they found him. His family and friends. His management team and fans. They found out he was here and beat up and were ready to take him back to his Hollywood life.

"Yeah, well, he's in the lobby office, so you can meet him and Clarissa there," she finished as she began to walk away. I stared at her back and how flat her ass was, which made me feel a little better about myself. But I was feeling my mood damper. What was this... queasy feeling deep in the pit of my stomach? Why was I feeling so sad all of a sudden?

I had an internal battle as I tried to convince myself that it was my Big Mac playing with my stomach, but I knew that I'd... miss him. Not that I'm attached and would just die without him here, but I was kind of used to eating lunch with him and playing random board games. I was used to having him buzz for me and as I came to his side to aid him with something, he'd smile and ask me to pass the remote that had been next to his foot. I was used to pinching and slapping him for doing dumb shit like that.

The little fucker had crawled under my skin like a cancerous tumor and made a home there and it made me sick. It really did. I wanted to slap myself for getting so comfortable with somebody as unsteady as Justin. Whose to say he won't wake up one morning and remember who he is and get up and leave and forget about lil' old me? I'm all he has now because I'm all he knows, but once that changes... I'll just be the nice nurse who helped him out a little. He'll write my five hundred dollar check and be gone from my life.

Just like that.

"Clarissa," I greeted as I approached the front desk she was standing behind. She hustled over to me and placed her hand on my shoulder, guiding me up the hall.

"Now, just listen to what he has to say," she told me, "I already talked to him about everything and gave him a suggestion."

"What is this about anyway?" I asked as we turned the corner to the dreaded office. "Did his family come to claim him?"

"No," she said and I felt my tense body relax, "But that's part of the problem." Before I could ask what that meant, Scott was in front of us, sitting at the desk comfortably in a white polo and gray slacks. He was a tall man, well over six feet, and white. His hair was brown with streaks of gray and he was clean shaven. He was in fairly good shape for his age and as his thick, dark framed glasses rested against the bridge of his nose, I could say he was attractive in a nerdy way.

"Miss. Haynes," he greeted as he stood and walked over to where I stood, giving me a firm hand shake.

"Mr. Masterson," I smiled, "How have you been?"

"Good, good," he assured, "Just got back from Hawaii with the family." I nodded.

"Nice," I smirked, "An escape from the wrath of January."

"Tell me about it," he smiled, "I wish I didn't tease myself though. I was dreading coming back, but at least I missed the storm."

"Lucky you, my car broke down because of it," I shared and he shook his head.

"Terrible, isn't it?"

"Eh, you know," I said dismissively, "So... I hear you wanted to speak to me about Matthew."

"Oh, yeah," he said, walking back behind the large oak desk and taking a seat in the leather swivel chair. "I just went through his file and there's really not much of one..."

"I know, he was out in the street..." I reminded.

"Yeah, I know," he said, "But that's a problem for us, Sasheirah. You know that we have to show some type of payment for the medical treatment." I sighed deeply.

"Right..." I grumbled.

"Now, I know that you've been trying to help Mr. Matthew out yourself with some clothes and things, so Clarissa suggested that I'd ask you if you were comfortable with taking him in."

"In what?" I asked dumbly.

"Well... he can't stay here," Scott said, "We can't block a room just so he can sleep at night. We need it for patients and the service he gets is costly. He might just be a John Doe and we may never see this money, so we can't let the expensives continue to rise. He's using morphine and getting hospital food and television..."

"Well, Mr. Masterson, he's not in the best condition," I argued, "He can't remember...anything. And he's in pain, all the time. That morphine's the lowest dosage possible just so his muscles can relax. Even if I do take him in, how am I suppose to get any of that stuff?"

"There's a pharmacy," he said and I scoffed despite myself.

"Yeah, but where am I suppose to get money for that? He's uninsured... Well, as far as we know." Scott shrugged.

"I don't know," he told me, almost coldly, "He'll just have to deal with the pain."

"He hobbles around on a cane," I stressed, "He's probably no older than me and he's in so much pain he uses a cane."

"Miss. Haynes, this is out of my hand," Scott snapped, "I cannot help everybody who comes through those hospital doors. If it were up to me, they'd get free treatment, but that doesn't keep the lights on and that certainly doesn't make your check look any better." I shook my head.

"I know this is out of your hands, but I'm a little stressed out with this guy. I wish he could remember something about anything."

"Well, when he does and gets his insurance back, he can get whatever he needs and pay us back. Here's the bill and the number to a homeless shelter is on the back." I took the white envelope he was handing over.

"Homeless shelter?" I asked.

"If he can't stay with you and he can't stay here, he has no place else to go," he reasoned, "I just took the liberty of finding the best one I could in case you couldn't take him." I looked down at the envelope that was in my hand and glanced over the number that was carelessly written across the back in black ink.

"Thank you," I said, "But he'll stay with me."

---------------------------

"You've been evicted," I announced as I walked into Justin's room. The television was on and he turned down the volume as I found a spot on the edge of his bed to sit on. The IV in his arm seemed to stick out more as I thought of how much pain he was going to be in when it was removed.

"Evicted?" he asked innocently and I sighed as I massaged the back of my neck. It had been such a long day.

"Yeah, the hospital can't afford to have your broke ass laying around here mooching," I said, "Your bill is so high now and since you're not insured, they can't trust you for a repayment, so they're kicking you out now. You leave tonight." Justin sat up as I walked over to him. I reached into the drawer by his bed, slapped on some gloves and grabbed an alcohol pad.

"Tonight?" he asked, watching me cautiously as I slowly pulled back the tape that was holding down his IV.

"Yep," I sighed, "Like now." He looked around his room and then back at me.

"Where am I suppose to go?" he asked. I rolled my eyes and he hissed as I slowly pulled out the needle and quickly covered it with the pad.

"You're going home with me," I informed him and he batted his stupid eyelashes as I found a bandaid and patched him up.

"Are you going to take advantage of me?" he joked and I slapped his leg after removing my gloves and tossing them out.

"I'm going to smack you if you don't shut up," I smiled. "Now, get up, get your shit, and get out. I'm exhausted."

"All right, all right..." he mumbled, unsteadily sliding off the bed as he walked around the room like the hunch back, collecting his clothes and snacks.

"Don't forget the ACME bag," I told him as I took some of the items from his hand before giving him his cane. He grabbed his clothes and looked around the room one last time.

"I think was actually getting used to this room," he told me before shuddering, "That's terrible."

"Why do you hate hospitals so much?" I asked as I shut the door behind us once he hobbled out into the hall with me. There was a pause from his end as we trailed up the hall toward the elevators. His clanking cane was echoing through the silent hall. "Well?"

"Well what?" he asked.

"Why don't you like hospitals?" I asked again with a smirk, "Geez, gramps, get it together." He smiled sheepishly.

"I don't know, really..." he shrugged, "I just keep thinking they aren't a happy place. Like everybody just dies here or something." I pondered over that before pressing the elevator's down button; watching it light up beneath the pad of my thumb.

"I get that," I told him, "But people gain life here too."

"I know, but... I don't know," he mumbled, "I sound insane. Just forget it." The dinging sound reverberated off the walls as the elevator arrived and we stepped on. Justin pressed the double LL for the lobby since he had been standing closer and we rode down in silence.

"I gotta sign you out," I told him as I headed over the the patient sign in office down the hall. I waved at Debra and filled out the paper work. Justin waited outside for me as I did so. When I was finished, we made our way out to the lot as I tried to find my car. It took five minutes of Justin bitching and moaning and me telling him to shut up, but I found it parked on the second level of the parking garage. We tossed his shit into my trunk and he actually helped himself into the car as I slipped into my driver's side.

"Let me find out grandpa's got a new move," I teased as he clipped on his seat belt.

"Girl, please, I've been resting my ass off and my body is showing its appreciation," he smiled, "Not to mention I'm hopped up on morphine."

"And thanks to me and David of pharmaceutical drugs, you will have pain killers," I told him proudly, "I got the prescription under my name and so it's only twenty bucks a bottle. It beats the other prices I was getting."

"Wow, you did all that illegal shit for me?" he grinned and I laughed.

"Don't tell anybody."

He crossed his heart and zipped his lips. "I got you." I shook my head and turned up the heat as we drove down the road. I decided to put on some music and found Golden Girl on Power 99 yapping away instead.

"Goodness, it's cold outside, ain't it? Everybody's bundling up tonight or cuddlin' up with their significant. We're halfway through the month, people. A couple more January flurries and then there will be V-day and Spring before you know it, so all you folks pushing back those resolutions better get on that or it'll be just like last year; no change or gain."

I nodded my head and smirked softly. I did it to myself every year; promised a bunch of shit I didn't mean. I swore I'd stop cursing and work less and be more outgoing and lose some of those unwanted pounds. I swore up and down I'd get up in the morning and run twice a week...Puh-lease. Who was I fooling?

"What was your resolution?" The question, surprisingly, came from my mouth and I think Justin was even a little shock when we he paused.

"Umm.... I don't know," he said letting out a breath, "Right now though, I want to just... I wanna get a job or something. Stop bumming around and shit. Especially if I'm gonna be staying with you."

"You can't get a job," I laughed at the perposterous nature of his resolution.

"Why not?" he asked.

"First off all, a job requires I.D. and social security cards and valid addresses, all of which you don't have-"

"I have your address," he said innocently.

"Okay, so lets say you have my address... What about the rest?" He shrugged as I turned and looked over at him. The light was red, so I continued to stare as he looked out of the window.

"I didn't think that far," he mumbled. "I just wanted to help out." I can hear his sad tone of voice and I turn back to the street just as the light turns green.

"I know," I comforted, "I don't really need any help right now, so don't worry about it. You'll pay me back when you get your life together."

"What if I don't?" Justin asked and I sighed.

"You will."

"But what if I don't?" he asked again, "What if by some chance, I don't get it together and my memory stays away and my family never claims me and everybody forgets all about this Justin Timberlake character. What if I'm just Matthew for the rest of my life?"

"Justin, it doesn't matter," I snapped, annoyed by his questioning, "You're gonna be fine, okay?"

"Who says I'm not fine now?" he asked, as annoyed as I as felt. "Why do you keep assuming I'm miserable?"

"I'm not," I impugned, "I'm just saying... you're acting like this is normal and it's not. Justin, you're a celebrity, not some random guy from Philly. You don't know anything about being normal. You don't fit in here."

"Why? Cause I'm white?" he asked bitterly and I rolled my eyes.

"Because you don't." My answer was the last thing to be heard the rest of the ride and as we parked and made our way inside, it was as tense as ever. Bob greeted me at the door with a meow and a caress. I wanted to be mad that he got his fur all over me, but with the cold shoulder Justin was giving me, the warmth of his kindness was nice to have.

"I guess this is my room now," Justin finally spoke as he slowly sat down on the couch with a heavy sigh. He looked even more pathetic now that he had a cane and that tone in his voice. I crumpled my face as the words left my mouth.

"You can sleep in my room," I told him reluctantly, "I can take the couch." He sucked his teeth and waved me off.

"Naw, woman," he dismissed the idea as quickly as it came, "I'll sleep down here."

"It'll just be for the night," I said, "I can probably get you an air bed or something after work tomorrow. It's no biggie."

"I'll take the couch for the night than," he assured, "I don't want you sleeping on this thing. You got work and it takes too long for you to get comfortable."

"Why can't you let me be nice?" I asked jokingly. "The one time I'm not mean, you won't take it. This is why I don't try." It took a moment, but a small smirk tickled the corner of his mouth.

"I'm sorry," he said, "But I don't want nor need your kindness. I'm Mr. Independent...you'd know all about that, wouldn't you?"

"Ha, ha, smartass," I smirked, "You can sleep on the damn couch."

"Cool with me," he said nonchalantly before sitting back comfortably in his seat. I stared at him for a moment as he picked up the remote and turned on my television like he owned the place. I placed my hands on my hips as Bob jumped onto the sofa and Justin allowed him to snuggle into his lap.

"Hello, Bob," he greeted in a low tone as he scratched the spot behind Bob's pointy ears, "How are you today?" I smiled to myself softly and shook my head.

"Why won't you sleep upstairs?" I inquired, "It bothers me that you sleep down here."

"It didn't bother you the first night."

"That's before I confirmed that you weren't a serial rapist."

"Are you sure about that?" he mumbled and I scoffed.

"Shut up, stupid," I said as he chuckled at his lame self, never taking his eyes from the screen in front of him. "You sleeping upstairs or not? It's cold as fuck at night in this living room."

"Well, I'm not gonna let you sleep down here either," Justin told me, "And if you don't want me down here and I don't want you down here, than I think that we only have one choice...."

"Fight to the death and let the winner get the bed?" Justin slowly turned from the television to give me a look of confusion. I simply smiled innocently.

"I was thinking something more along the lines of sharing your bed, but fightin's good if that's what you're into...."

"Share my what with who?" I asked, "Justin-"

"Matthew, one," Justin interrupted, "And two, we're friends, right? Friends can share a bed without a problem. Besides, I need a cane to get around... You can pretty much take me if I try anything. I don't know how I would defend myself against your attack though..."

"Shut your fuckin' face," I joked, "I wouldn't attack you if you were the last man on earth."

"Ah... I see," he nodded, "You're the gay. That explains a whole lot."

"Fuck you," I said, punching him in the shoulder light enough to not cause him any real pain, but hard enough to get my point across.

"Apparently, you wouldn't fuck me." He rubbed his arm. "And thanks for the new bruise. It'll match the rest of my body perfectly."

"You're welcome," I told him with a grin, "And fine... I guess we can share the bed for tonight... no biggie." I could feel my stomach tighten with anxious knots and I could feel this weird, geeky feeling engulfing me. It had been a while since I had shared my bed with anybody but my cat and I was far from prepared. It was just Justin, but... I dunno. We weren't that close and my room was the hottest in the house, so I never really slept with much on. Usually a tank and short shorts... Even that didn't seem appropriate. Maybe a moo-moo?

"I guess this means I have to wash, right?" Justin frowned.

"Damn straight," I said, "I don't want you funking up my sheets."

"Okay..." he reluctantly grumbled as he struggled to stand with his cane. I held his wobbly arm and pulled him up. He let out a sigh. "Thanks." I could see he was embarrassed in a weird way, so I opted not to tease him with the grandpa jokes. I, instead, guided him up the steps and into the bathroom.

Once we reached the room, however, it seemed different. He stood for a while as I watched him nervously. All I could think about was whether or not it was appropriate to help him into the shower because that would require my eyes and his nudity and now that we're friends and not the mention sharing a bed, it seemed weird.

"So... I guess you should..."

"Yeah..." Justin laughed lightly, "I think I can handle it, so you don't really have to help if you don't want-"

"Okay," I interrupted, not needing to be told twice as I turned to head out, "I'll leave the door open halfway so I can hear you if you call me."

"Kay..." Justin told me as I scurried out of the room and down the hall. Once I reached my bedroom, I pushed the door halfway and went through my drawers, trying to find something to wear. I had some silky numbers and a part of me wanted to wear it, just for the hell of it, but I quickly talked myself out of it.

"Don't make this more than what it is..." I mumbled to myself, "It's Justin... It's just Justin..." I coached myself over and over and settled for my usual tank and shorts. I grabbed two towels and dug through my dresser for a pair of underwear. I walked up the hall again after I gathered all my things and heard the shower running. I peaked inside and saw only Justin's clothes piled up on the edge of the sink.

I tip toed inside just as the sound of his voice came flowing from the inside of the shower.

"Girl... I'm so in love with you..." I smiled to myself as I listened to him sing 'Let's Stay Together' for a brief moment before I remember I was only dropping off his towel. I walked over to the sink and grabbed his used clothes and replaced it with his clean towel. "Sash?"

I stopped moving as if I were guilty of something. "Yeah, just dropping off a towel and picking up your clothes."

"Oh, okay..." Justin said, "I hope that wasn't too bad."

"What?" I asked.

"My singing," he chuckled, "I thought I'd try it out."

"It was good," I assured, "It was really... good."

"Thanks," he said, pushing back the shower curtain while covering up his body with it. "That was convincing." I tried to ignore the droplets of watever beading down his chest and disappearing behind the curtain that covered his lower half, but I was only human, so my eyes linger longer than necessary.

"Uh huh..." I mumbled dumbly before turning out of the room and heading back to my room. I closed my eyes and let out a breath. I wanted to slap myself again and it made me so mad that I was so pathetic that I suddenly found Justin's crippled ass completely sexual. I wanted to gag, but I couldn't lie to myself. I was almost two years forced into celibancy and it was taking a heavy toll on my body now that a slightly attractive young man was in my presence. I was just sad.

After tossing Justin's dirty clothes into my bedroom hamper, I pouted as I walked back downstairs and gathered all of Justin's crap from Target and Payless and brought it up to my room. I sat on the bed and unpacked everything, finding a spot for it all throughout my room. I was busying myself so much that I hadn't noticed Justin had hobbled his way out the shower and down the hall until a soft knock rattled my door.

"Are you decent?" Justin asked as I walked over and just pulled the door open. I guess that was a huge mistake because Justin smirked and my eyes traveled very quickly down his body that was wrapped solely in a towel at his slender hits. A slightly purple and pink tinge stained the skin around his ribs, but other than that, his torso was flawless. He was smaller than what I usually go for, but he was cut right. Six pack abs and pecks for days. His arms were marked with tiny scabs from previous cuts, but the black cross on his arm was untouched and glorious.

"Your ribs look a lot better," I blinked as I looked back into his eyes that seemed much larger somehow as he looked down at mee with his head slightly tilted to the side. That's when I noticed all of him was slightly tilted and leaning on the doorframe. "Where's your cane?" Justin shrugged and it was slow, and based off the look on his face, it was painful as well.

"I decided to walk without it," he told me, "I can't keep leaning on that thing. I feel a lot better than I did before. I need to come off of it so I don't get too dependent."

"It's a cane, not crack," I told him, "Don't do that. You could've fallen over or something."

"But I didn't, did I?" he quipped as he slowly pushed himself from the wall and held his sides as he brushed past me and into the room. "Stop being so hype, Mom. Nobody likes a hype guy." I rolled my eyes and turned around to face him. I watched as he slowly sat himself down on the edge of my bed with a sigh.

"Excuse me for being such a good person and worrying about you," I grumbled, "I won't make that mistake again." I walked over to my drawer and grabbed him a pair of his boxer briefs. I tossed it into his lap and he looked down at the red underwear like he had never saw it before.

"I don't sleep with underwear," he informed me, tossing them back at me. I caught them with ease and raised a brow.

"You what?" I asked in disbelief.

"I don't," he repeated, "Too constraining. I tried it the first night at the hospital and it felt like I was having sex with myself. If you toss and turn you get all tangled... too much drama. I'd rather not." I looked down at the underwear in my hands. Justin with no underwear and a dripping wet, beautiful sculpted chest sleeping in my bed?

"You're wearing your underwear," I said, tossing them back at him, "I want you to be in them when I get back." I warned as I grabbed my assorted sleeping outfit and towel. I hurried down the hall and into the shower, washing up quickly, drying off, dressing, brushing, and washing my face. When I was finished, I got back to my room and found Justin in his underwear and nothing else laying on the left side of my bed. He looked up from the folded hands he placed over his navel and up at me.

"This isn't your side, is it?" he asked and I shook my head.

"I don't pick sides," I told him, "I just sleep wherever, so you're cool..." He nodded and I trailed over to my hamper to dump my work scrubs. I fiddled around with my dirty laundry for a moment, knowing that once it was tucked away, I had to go to bed and sleep with Justin.

Well, not sleep with Justin, but you know what I mean...

"Hey, I saw you had a lap top," Justin said to my back before I finally turned around. I looked at the bed and saw the edge of my computer sticking out from under my pillow.

"Yeah?" I inquired, slowly making my way around the bed to the empty spot beside him. "You wanna use it?" He shrugged and I reached my side, lifting up my pillow. He took the initiative to grab it and place it onto his lap as he sat up straighter. I slipped into the bed beside him and Justin watched me carefully as if I'd break the bed if I moved too fast.

I wondered for a moment if he honestly thought that. I wasn't like the size 0 girls he was usually seen with on those US Weekly's I've scanned through while waiting in line at the market. I actually ate food and had some meat on my bones to prove it.

"I was wondering," Justin spoke and I almost jumped back when I felt how close he was. My arm quickly recoiled when it brushed his and I mumbled an apology as I settled into my bed, sitting upright like Justin.

"You were wondering what?" I asked, trying to relax as I looked over his face. I noticed the freckles on his shoulders and the light hairs growing on the side of his face. His short, curly hair reminded me of his Justified days and I wondered why I was suddenly a teeny bobber, ready to scream because Justin Timberlake was looking at me like I had three breast.

"Sash!" Justin yelled, and I jumped and blinked myself out of my trance. Damn, that's about three times already.

"What?" I asked annoyed and embarassed as I turned away from him and looked down at the thin sheet I threw over myself.

"Damn, woman," he chuckled and I looked up at caught a glimpse of his white teeth from behind his pink lips before he ran his tongue over his mouth. "I asked you a question and you spaced out all crazy. I didn't realize I was that boring."

"Well, you are," I teased, "But what was the question?" Justin had opened up the laptop some time during my spacing off and it was fully loaded as he double clicked on the Internet Explorer icon.

"I was thinking that maybe we could look up some of Justin Timberlake's stuff..."

"You mean your stuff?" I corrected, taking the lap top from him and placing it on top of my legs. He grunted in response and I rolled my eyes as I typed YouTube into my address bar. The site loaded and I felt the bed shift as Justin scooted closer to me, leaning to see the screen. I typed his name into the YouTube search and a shitload of videos popped up.

"Holy..." Justin breathed, "That's all me?" He leaned over my shoulder and excitedly looked over the links and previews and pictures on the screen as I scrolled down and about.

"Why don't we watch a video?" I asked, looking around to see if anything caught my eye.

"Like a music video?" Justin asked. I nodded before I smiled when I found it.

"This is my favorite song by you," I cheesed, happily clicking on the link as the page loaded. "It doesn't hurt that my boo is on here too."

"Who?" Justin grinned. "Me?"

"No, fool," I said as I went to press play, "T.I."

"Oh..." Justin stupidly replied as the intro of 'Let Me Talk To You' played as him and Timbo took over the screen. I couldn't help but bob my head to the beat and look at the way Justin moved and flirted with the video girl. I glanced over to Justin on my left and he was so into the video that I would've called him a cocky bastard if I hadn't known any better. It must've just been weird to watch yourself on screen like that, singing dancing like a fish breathes water.

It wasn't until the screen went black before little video bubbles came up that I looked over at Justin again. I backed to the previous page and smiled.

"So...?" I inquired, "Cool, huh?"

"It feels... cool," Justin said, "I mean, it's cool, but it's weird. It doesn't feel like I could do all that."

"But you can," I told him, "That's proof." He seemed a bit uncomfortable suddenly and I couldn't quite figure out why.

"I think I'm gonna hit the hay..." Justin said, slowly sliding down onto his back. He only grimaced from a little bit of discomfort before pulling the sheet over his waist.

"You okay?" I asked, closing my lap top and placing it onto my nightstand.

"Yeah..." he weakly assured, "I'm just... I don't know."

"It's weird, right?"

"Something like that." He fell silent and I reached over to my right to click off the lamp.

"'Night," I said, turning my back to him as I laid down.

"'Night."

--------------------------------------------

I woke up the next morning and I was warm and comfortable against the skin of another. I wanted to deny that it felt as good as it did to wake up with my face pressed against his bare chest and his arm tucked beneath my head. I wanted to deny that I could've stayed like that for the rest of my sad little life, but I couldn't. I couldn't lie to myself and I couldn't deny the fact that Justin was growing a little too much on me.

"Hey..." a raspy morning voice greeted and I froze in place.

"Mornin'," I squeaked out, rolling over as he groaned. I sat up quickly, swinging my legs over the side of the bed. I glanced over at the alarm clock and it was only 7:12am, about an hour before I usually get up.

"Where you goin'?" Justin asked with a smile in his tone. "Sleep, woman... Sleep." I closed my eyes and they laid heavy with exhaustion. I could've definitely laid down and rolled back into his warm, welcoming arms and been satisfied, but my pride swelled up. I didn't need it. I didn't need him.

"I gotta get ready for work," I said, "Get in early and get some more time in."

"Whatever..." Justin sighed and I could hear the sheets being ruffled, "I'll be right here." He yawned to signify he was officially tired and sleeping again and I rolled my eyes before looking over my shoulder at his lightly snoring figure. Abs out and moving with his breathing... Skin smooth and peachy... Sun shining from my window and making my white sheets glow along with him.

Damn he was fine.

"Justin," I said through gritted teeth, "It's not that deep."

"Matthew..." he corrected distractedly, still in deep concentration, "And you told me to mash it up. There's chunks in here still."

"I like chunks." He shot me a disbelieving look over his shoulder. "What? I do." He rolled his eyes at my reassurance and continued on.

"Whatever," he said, "You're just trying... to make me... feel better."

"No much?" I quipped and he didn't say anything. I wanted to strangle the little fuck face as he pressed down on my potato masher, determined to crush every chunk of unmashed potato he could find. It would've been nice to watch his muscles flex in his plain white tee if I weren't so annoyed and hungry.

Okay... so maybe it was still nice. But only a little.

"You're being ridiculous," I sighed, turning back to the stove to flip my frying chicken. Justin offered me an annoyed grunt in response before I rolled my eyes.

I guess I should be kind of happy that he was willingly helping me prepare dinner. It was my sort of apology for the cold shoulder I had thrown at him for the last two days. Ever since that first morning of seeing Justin in a new... sexual light, I felt embarassed, almost like he knew what I was thinking, so I lashed out at him after work for every little thing he did. Everything from socks not being worn on hardwood floors to him taking a shower after working out in the living room. I told him I was just tired and didn't want him getting sick from cold feet or straining himself during his excercises. He told me he understood and swore to wear socks around the entire house and assured me that his excercises only consisted of cane-less walks around my home.

If he only knew he relaxed me more than anything a majority of the time. Don't get it twisted, the boy could still work a nerve, but it was nice to have a 'roomie'. I felt a lot safer and more entertained. I liked the 'hello's and 'hey's he always greeted me with when I woke up in the morning or came home from work, and the shy 'goodnight's before bed made me feel bless that I was brown-skinned so my blush could not show. I guess we were both still getting used to that. It's been a bit more comfortable. I've woken up in his arms every morning since the first night and though that's only two more times, it was two times too many in my book.

"Done!" Justin excitedly announced as he came beside me and shoved the bowl of mashed-to-death potatoes in my face.

"Congratulations," I said, shooing him away as I placed the finished chicken onto a paper towel covered plate.

"Smoothest potatoes you'll ever have," he assured with a puffed out chest and I had to laugh because I knew he wasn't joking around. He was practically bursting with pride.

"Wow, Matty boy," I picked up the chicken plate and turned off the stove, "You're in the major leagues of hypeness right about now." I placed the plate onto the wooden top of my small kitchen table and Justin followed behind, placing his mashed potatoes beside it.

"I can be hype," he joked, "You're a damn hater." We both headed over to the cabinets above my sink.

"Boy, please..." I said, swinging open the stained wood cabinet doors and retrieving two plates. "You've got nothing to hate on." I handed him the white plates and he carefully took them.

"I'm rich and famous and I can sing..." He sang the last part for emphasis and I smirked as he raised his brows in a cocky motion, as if to say he was the man and I knew it.

"Oh, so now you're Justin Timberlake?" I teased before grabbing two forks from the dish holder by the sink.

"I was always Justin Timberlake," he scoffed, but smiled nevertheless, "We can't change who we're meant to be, right?"

I rolled my eyes. "I thought Matthew was your destiny." We made our way back to the table and sat across from each other. Justin shrugged and passed me a plate as I handed him a spoon.

"I'm still Matt," he said.

"You can't be both," I argued, scooping some potatoes into my plate.

"Sure I can," he smiled, taking three pieces of chicken for himself, "Justin's my stage name."

"What is wrong with you?" I laughed, "You and these... split personalities."

"It's not a split personality," Justin took the potato bowl from my offering hands. "I'm Matthew as far as I know right now. Justin's still a mystery." I watched as he scooped up the biggest spoon of potatoes I've ever seen and smiled softly. He was so fuckin' greedy for such a skinny bastard and it was hilarious.

I watched him for a moment, chowing down like it was the last supper and wondered if I should ask what was plaguing my mind. I don't know why I was so hesitant to ask. It was innocent enough and I probably should've asked sooner, but I was... worried.

"What's wrong?" Justin asked, "Am I eating crazy again?" I laughed out loud, knowing I was guilty of telling him to slow down and chew one too many times and he chuckled with me.

"You are, but that's not it..." I trailed off.

"Well?" he inquired and I shrugged. I picked up my fork and scooped up some of my potatoes. I placed it into my mouth and it felt like silk against my skin. Damn, these were the smoothest mashed-to-death potatoes I've ever had.

"This is really smooth," I told him in amazement. "Good job."

"Thank you," Justin grinned, "But don't change the subject."

"I didn't know there was a subject," I said dumbly, "I thought we were having random conversation while eating smooth potatoes and fried chicken."

"You sure know how to drag something out, woman," he smirked, "But I'm standing my ground. What's up?" I shrugged again. Now I was feeling on the spot and didn't like that position.

"I was just wondering....ya know..." Now I had a freakin' speech impediment and Justin looked so amused that I wanted to smack him.

"You were wondering..." he egged on and I rolled my eyes.

"I was just wondering if you ever thought about Justin..." I spat out, licking my fork before dipping it right back into the mashed up goodness, "Like... family and stuff. Do you ever stop and try to remember anybody?" He licked his lips and moved his gaze to his plate.

"Yeah... the other night actually," he told me slowly, "I googled a little when you were at work the other day and I for a while now, I've been seeing this face in my head, ya know? Like little broken up images of different people and stuff I can't really understand. Like... rooms and pictures and parts of conversations, but I can never really... get it. But this guy was in my head so much, ya know? It was crazy because I needed his name."

"Oh, god..." I sighed, "You're gay and that's your lover." Justin sighed and rolled his eyes.

"No, asswipe," he said, shaking his head with a small curl of his lips. "His name is Trace A...something. A-lay-la.... A-ya-la... I don't know. But according to a fansite, he's my best friend and business partner. I have a clothing line." I raised a brow.

"Really?" He nodded proudly.

"Cool shit too," he gushed, "William Rast or somethin'. They have really nice track jackets. Mad expensive though. Like a hundred bucks or somethin'."

"Well, shit," I told him, "You better get on that. Lower those prices to Target level. Maybe I could get you one while your account is M.I.A."

"I'll get you something nice from there," he said, "They got some nice jeans."

"If you've failed to notice, I've got an ass," I pushed around my potatoes, "One that won't fit into your skinny bitch with no ass jeans collection."

"Umm... I happen to be a butt man," Justin said with a pop of his collar. "That's what I said in one of my interviews, therefore I would think to make my jeans ass accomadating."

"Whatever," I said dismissively and took a bite of my chicken.

"And another thing," Justin continued, "I haven't failed to notice that very nice ass you have. You should wear your scrubs less often. You're hiding your body. The millions of sweats that you own aren't helping."

"Umm... excuse me," I scoffed, not knowing if I was struggling to speak from anger or flattery. I deamed it a side effect of both. "I do not care what you notice or think of my wardrobe, for that matter."

"Maybe you should." He left it at that and I glared at him because wanted to know what he was referring to. A large part of me was hoping he was referring to me taking notice of him noticing. Fuck, why didn't I notice him noticing me? Why did I always have to notice him instead? Did he notice me noticing him?

"You have an annoying habit of spacing out," Justin told me, sipping on a glass of water I had set on the table earlier. I blinked and looked at his baby face, the stubble thicking along his jaw. He reached up and scratched his cheek and my eyes scanned his mouth, gleaming with a thin layer of liquid from his drink. He licked his lips.

"Maybe I'm ignoring you," I retorted, moving my eyes to my half eaten plate.

"Why are you so mean?" Justin asked and I looked at him from behind my eyelashes as I lifted my head just a bit. "I mean, I get that you're not obligated to actually be pleasant and you can be really awesome at times, but then you get all defense and weird-"

"Why don't you finish your food, Matthew?" I cut in like his mother would and he pursed his lips.

"You sound like my mother," he stated as if he read my mind. I rolled my eyes.

"As if you would know," I quipped and he went back to his food. The conversation didn't quite feel over. The awkwardness didn't let up, even after we finished and cleared the table; Justin doing the dishes without being told. I stared at his back for a moment, watching the muscles shift beneath his shirt. He was scrubbing kind of hard and I figured he was still angry with my bitterness.

"Come in the basement when you're finished," I told him, already turning toward a small door that led to downstairs.

"Why?" I heard him ask as I jogged down the stairs, not bothering to answer. I had switched the light on before making my way down, but the gray, cemented basment still creeped me out. It was definitely unfinished and had water bugs. It smelled like sitting water and I was sure there was water somewhere down here that I hadn't noticed. My washer and dryer were to the left of the stairs right as you stepped off and their piercing whiteness stood out in the dull room as I turned to walk straight back to a pile of huge, black trash bags full of crap.

I made my way over to a particular corner of the room I had reserved just for his stuff. I never quite got around to giving it to good will like I told myself to do so many times before. My schedule wouldn't allow it and now with Justin here, they had use. I wish I thought of this sooner instead of spending a million dollars at Target.

"Sasheirah?" I heard Justin call as his quick steps flowed down the stairs.

"Back here," I directed and I soon felt his presence close behind my standing form.

"What's this shit?" Justin asked as I dragged the bag closer to my washer.

"Clothes," I told him, "For you." He made a face that I peeped for just a second when I glanced over at him when he grabbed the bag from my hands and lifted it with much more ease than I did. He dropped it in front of the machine and some dust clouded outward as we both coughed. I waved the dirty air from my face before sneezing and tearing open the bag. Everything was neatly folded still, spilling over in the corners in some parts because of the movement.

"Whose clothes?" Justin asked, picking up some RocaWear jeans from the bag as I lifted the washer door.

"My ex's," I evasively explained, grabbing an armful of clothes and dumping it into the machine.

"Leather jacket ex?" he inquired, referring to his borrowed coat and I nodded, switching the load size to large and starting it up. "Did y'all live together or somethin' 'cause this is a shitload of clothes."

"Something like that..." I trailed off, not finding the topic particularly pleasing. He didn't seem to get the hint.

"Well, what happened?" he asked nonchalantly as I grabbed the Tide and dumped a cup and a half into the working machine before capping it back up.

"Can you pass me the last of the clothes?" I asked as he handed me three shirts and a pair of sweats. My fingers lingered a little bit longer than necessary of the pair of sweats. They were his favorite pair when we were dating.

"You gonna answer the question?" Justin asked as I finally let go of the pants and shut the machine. He hopped up on top of the dryer and looked at me expectantly as I leaned against he washer.

"We broke up," I told him.

"Apparently," Justin snorted, "Does he at least have a name?"

"Angel," I told him.

"And..."

"And Angel and I broke up." He gave me a bored expression and I sighed. "We didn't work out, man. What else do you want?"

"I want to know what was wrong with him," Justin chuckled, "He must be crazy."

I rolled my eyes. "Don't think flattery will get you anything out of me." I pretended to be unfazed, but I definitely was feeling that tightening gut feeling that annoyed me greatly.

"I'm just saying..." Justin trailed off before adding, "Look, you just seem like you need to vent and I'm here to listen. That's all I'm saying." I looked up into his blue orbs and saw that they flickered a yellowish tint in my basement's lighting. They also showed a great deal of sincerity and I found myself wondering what harm could possibly be done by telling him. I felt a bit of a rush as I hopped up on the top of the washer and swung my legs as they hung far off the ground. The machine vibrated beneath me and tickled me to the point of a small smile.

"You better feel blessed that I'm sharing this with you," I told him jokingly and he nodded.

"I really do." I sighed and then took another breath as if I were in labor. It was embarassing to remember he was staring at me and waiting and for a moment I forgot.

"Look," I started off strong, not trying to show him that a very small, cowardly part of me still shook from the thought of it all. "Angel and I were together for a while... We went to high school together and whatnot, but college came and we got close and started dating freshmen year... it was nice, ya know? Stupid puppy love..."

"Right..." he egged on.

"So, yeah... we got pretty serious by the time I finished school and went to Jefferson for a while before getting my gig at Temple Hospital. It was crazy though. We didn't really have that much time for spend together. I was working or in school or both for the most part, but we had love... I loved him at least..." And this was the part I hated. The part when my voice got weird and I could see Justin sensing my sadness. I was pretty sure he was praying I wasn't going to cry and I was praying the same damn prayer. I'd die if I ever let him see a tear roll down my face.

"...so, you loved him?" Justin reminded with a strong curiousity, but hesitation rang out in his tone. He didn't want to pressure me.

"Yeah, but apparently I wasn't around much, so he went elsewhere..." I sighed before chuckling bitterly. "My best friend, to be exact." Justin's shocked expression had matched the face of my friends when they found out, and it unfazed me. I was only slightly more humiliated. It stung a lot less now though than it did than.

"That's fucked up," he gasped and I nodded in agreement.

"Yeah, but what was more fucked up was I came home from work and they were just chillin' on my sofa waiting for me to get home."

"No!" Justin gasped and I laughed lightly despite myself.

"They weren't doing anything," I clarified, "They were actually just waiting for me. They were on my sofa and I took a seat on the coffee table and he told me I was working too much and he had needs and that he found someone to fullfil it. I didn't even need to ask who because they were holding hands at the end of his statement and she was telling me 'Oh, you know you can't control love' and blah, blah, blah... Shit, I was just wondering why there was so much love going around and yet there was none for me.

I just couldn't figure out how I let this man live in my house rent free and have my best friend since grade school; I'm talking sandbox, have the nerve to tell me I wasn't fulfilling the needs. I worked my ass off and still managed time for the both of them. I had that girl's back through everything, even when her two-timing boyfriend broke up with her. I held his hand when he couldn't keep a job and I didn't ask for a single cent from his hands because I thought 'I love this man and I'm gonna marry him, so what's mine is his and his is mine'. Apparently he took that too literally because he definitely made my best friend his." I didn't realize I had gotten as loud and frustrated until I stopped talking and the silence hit me like it had been surpressed and suddenly released; much like my anger.

"Damn," Justin shook his head. "I'm sorry."

"Please," I waved him off, "You didn't cheat on me."

"I know," he said softly, "And I never will." Will? I thought and my face must've said something because he stammered to fix his mistake. "I mean... I would- No! I never would... if we were together, but we're not...so..." I nodded slowly and fought the smile trying to spread across my lips.

"Don't hurt yourself," I teased and he blushed feverishly as he turned his vision to the side.

"Anyway..." he opted for the awkward subject change, "Please tell me you pulled some Lorena Bobbitt shit, chopped his balls off, and punched that best friend of yours in the face." I laughed and it was good and hearty and I think Justin enjoyed my laughter more than his own joke.

"No...no craziness. I just said 'Okay'," I meekly admitted, "He already moved in with her. He didn't even need his clothes. He told me to do whatever I wanted with what was in the house because he had already packed the important stuff. He basically wanted to give me a goodbye and toss me the deuces."

"That's some bull," Justin said and I agreed, "He told you to kick rocks without socks and flip flops and left you hanging-"

"What the fuck did you say?" I chuckled during my interruption.

"What?" he asked.

"Kick rocks without socks and flip flops?" I raised a brow, "I have never, in my entire life, heard some ol' bullshit like that." Justin smirked.

"Really?" he asked and thought for a moment. "I think my mama told me that before." I was a bit taken back.

"You remember your mom?" He picked up my panicked tone and made a face.

"I just get the feeling my mama said that. I don't know..." I suddenly wanted to Google it and see if it were true, but I was sure that wouldn't pop up... but then again, he was Justin Timberlake, regardless of what he thought, so anything was possible.

"Well, that's cool..." I dumbly added before hopping off of the machine; its shaking movements were making me feel weird.

"Hey," Justin called to me like I wasn't standing right next to him and I gently tapped my fingers against the metal framing of my washer. I watched him slid off the unmoving dryer and look at me with an amused expression.

"What?" I asked cautiously, not really knowing what to make of his face.

"I think you need one of these," he said, opening his arms as wide as they could go and wiggling his fingers for effect. I stared at him in horror, as if the very idea of hugging him was as disgusting as it was absurd.

"I'm all right," I assured, blowing him off. Justin sighed and stepped toward me as I stepped back.

"You need to stop frontin'," Justin said and I was rolling my eyes.

"Justin, seriously, I'll live," I told him him before I bent over to retrieve the fallen, now empty, trash bag from the floor. I could here Justin sigh behind me.

"C'mon, Sashy Washy," he cooed teasingly and turned to face him with an annoyed look.

"Never call me that again," I demanded and dropped his tired arms.

"Hug me, Sash," he said gently and I could feel the urge to do so from his sweet tone alone. Then I remembered that touching Justin wasn't an option. Especially getting myself wrapped up in his arms. You get to used to something and then it's ripped right from under you.

"No," I said, knowing that it sounded very weak hearted. I didn't bother stepping back when he moved closer to me.

"Sash," he said seriously and I didn't like the way the playfulness fell away from the room. I most certainly didn't like the flood of sadness that was taking over my stomach and my chest, making them tight and uncomfortable. "It's okay." His arms snaked around my body and I slowly, hesitately allowed him to pull me against his chest. He was warm and spelled like my Irish Springs soap. My arms wrapped around his tiny waist and I could feel the hard definition of his body everywhere.

We were quiet and the machine swooshed around in a low hum, almost like it knew a delicate moment was in motion. Justin's large hands rubbed my back in circles that warmed me, but I didn't move my hands from the small of his back. I didn't want to move at all. I was afraid that if I did, I'd stupidly pull away. Find my que to exit the scene. It made me uneasy to not want to move. To feel this good in the arms of a man I knew for just over a month. Even though I've spent every waking moment with him, it was too comfortable. It was too...much. His arms shouldn't be the safest place I now know. I shouldn't want to just lay in bed this way with him for a long time. I shouldn't be looking forward to more of his hugs despite the fact that I had to yet to finish this one.

"Okay, okay...that's enough." I tried to sound as light as possible, but my tone was still a bit weird. My body was screaming and yelling at me, wondering why as I frowned at the coolness that was now hitting my body as we pulled apart. My heart was trembling though; shaken by the fact that it could be shaken by his hug alone. Justin's eyes were on mine so heavily that I had to look away.

"That wasn't so bad now, was it?" I looked up at him again, his eyes much lighter now. He wasn't smiling though. He was still speaking quietly, gently...Almost like I was too fragile for much else. I felt angered by this. I wasn't fragile. I didn't need a gentle voice or hugs...even if they felt nice. I hadn't hugged much over the last two years since my break up and I wasn't going to fall back into a comfortable pattern of it again.

"Yes, it was excruciating," I voiced, "Thanks." My sarcasm seemed to shock him for a moment, but he quickly recovered, giving me an annoyed glare.

"Well, I'll remember that the next time I feel you reaching out for me at night," he bitterly state in a low tone and I felt myself flush with embarrassment.

"I'm sleeping, Justin," I argued, "I hug my pillows too, so don't flatter yourself." He laughed, unamused and dry.

"You are so unbelievable,"' he scoffed, "Why can't you admit that this feels good to you?" He gestured between us and I was flabbergasted.

"What the hell are you talking about?" I asked and he rolled his eyes and waved me off angry.

"Nothing," he grumbled, stomping up the stairs just as the washer's spin cycle slowed to a stop. I continued to stare at the steps he'd just run up and my mouth was agape.

Jesus Christ, shoot me now.

I didn't sleep very well that night. Justin was already asleep when I went up and somewhere around six in the morning, he rolled over and knocked me right out of bed. I only had an hour worth of sleep left, so I just let it go and got ready for work early. I made him breakfast in my extra time. Pancakes, eggs, bacon, sausage, and hash browns. I was trying to apologize without words.

The way he stomped out of the basement last night was unnerving. He was mad at me. It felt strange to feel such a thing, but it was clear. He went upstairs the moment I crept up the basement steps with his clothes. He didn't even bother helping me with the heavy ass hamper they were folded in. I ended up leaving the damn thing in the living room, too tired and annoyed to bother.

I peaked in the room right before I left and his back was to the door. I sighed and went out to work, not looking forward to the day ahead of me. I would be working from 9am to 10pm. It was exhausting as is and now I had to think about Justin all damn day.

Why can't you admit that this feels good to you? Why must you make everything a soap opera? I wanted to shoot back, but it would've been pointless. I'm not going to lie to the man. His words got to me. I hadn't realized it felt this good to him. Enough for him to be shocked that it didn't feel this good to me.

Not that it hadn't. I already admitted to liking his companying and admiring his six pack. Maybe not outloud to him, but at least to myself. That's a big step forward in my book. He should know that I'd at least had to like him a bit if I laughed at all his hilarious jokes and let him stay with me indefinitely without a second thought. Did that not count for something at all? Did I have to be in love with him in order to get the point across? Why all the unnecessary dramatics? Why can't we just be the way we are and flirt beneath layers and layers of words, make whatever we want of it, and wake up in each others' arms?

There's no need for talks about feelings or walks along the beach. I was fine just having him around. Hearing his voice. Watching muscle flex. The list was rather long in my mind. Sure, I didn't have killer abs, but I swayed myself around the house in shorts or tights and a t-shirt. I wore nice, silky things to sleep and didn't complain if I caught his eyes lingering a bit too much on my body. I never once corrected him for calling me Sash and I did my fair share of caught check outs when he'd laugh when I stared at his bare chest.

Did he not know that all that was me admitting that this felt good to me?

By the time my jumbled thoughts rattled together and through my head, work was over and I had to drag my sorry ass home. I volunteered to take Tasha home and after dropping her off, I drove slowly to my house. I could see lights were on downstairs as I parked, so I knew he was on the couch, bumming around.

I got inside and shook the small flurries from my shoulders. Justin didn't bother looking up from the paper in his hands as I hung my jacket in the closest and kicked off my shoes. I sat down beside him on the couch and looked at what was in his hands. It was the homemade Christmas card he created, the tree drawn on the front was slightly tilted and had different ordements hanging from the ends. It looked like something my nephew drew, but he wrote a little Christmas poem inside.

It was short and amatuer compared to his song writing, but I had never had a poem written for me and I was grateful. I teased him for every mistake he made in his drawing though and sarcastically told him I'd wear the card tonight because it was so nice.

"Why did you keep this?" Justin's voice was meek and I had to strain to hear him. I shrugged.

"I like it." He didn't say anything, but he sighed and tossed the card onto the table.

"You didn't tell me that," he said after a moment. "Is there anything else you like?"

"Justin, I don't really want to have this conversation with you." And I didn't. It was like talking about sex with your parents. Uncomfortable. Correction, unbearable awkward and painful, not to mention embarassing.

"Then at the very least listen," he said, annoyed, "You're a great person and you work hard and you're really strong and independent, I get that, okay? Just because this is all true, it doesn't mean much in terms of your maturity right about now. You're running away from me because I'm trying to tell you something you want to hear, but are too afraid to say yourself."

"I don't know-"

"You do know. Don't play dumb, Sash," he said tiredly, "I can understand why liking somebody might be hard for you because that Angel guy was a dickbag and he hurt you. Even if you won't admit it, it's not the same. You're not the person. And I'm sorry for that. I really am. You're amazing now with all your defenses. I can't imagine how charming you were with your guard not existing. You must've been glowing." I grimaced.

"What am I?" I asked, "Chopped liver? Dark?" My words were laced with offense, but he shrugged.

"You're beautiful and charming in a sadistic, sarcastic way, but it takes too much work to get you to even admit that maybe, just maybe you like having me around. I feel like I'm some burden or nuisance-"

"You are," I quipped, cutting him off, "But... I do like having you around."

"Really?" I nodded and turned my gaze from his to the ground. "Why don't you tell me that sometime?"

"Me not kicking you out says enough," I told him, "Besides, I don't exactly hear you telling me you enjoy my company either."

"But you know I do." I narrowed my eyes at him and he sighed. "Fine, I guess I should voice it too."

"You don't have to," I said, "Really, it's awkward and weird."

"It's not," he smirked, "There's nothing wrong with two people enjoying each other's company." He searched my eyes for a moment before I looked away again, this time staring at the Spong Bob slippers on his feet.

"I'm a little rusty, Justin," I admitted shyly and I felt my stomach knotting up. "It's been a while since I've been this close to another male before. I gotta get myself in the motions again."

"You need to get your groove back?" he teased and I regretted ever letting him watch Stella with me.

"My groove never left," I argued, "It's just been resting."

"Hibernating, more like it," he smiled and slapped his arm.

"Don't make me bruise you up after you've healed so well." The purple blotch that was under his left eye was gone. His bandage long removed, a tiny scar sitting in its place. His ribs didn't hurt as bad and he was down to just a pill of killers a day. He was doing quite well for himself.

"You wouldn't," he taunted, "You like me too much." I rolled my eyes.

"I don't like you nearly enough to not want to bruise you up," I corrected, "But I guess it's enough for me to think twice before I actually go through with it."

"Ah, hesitation is a good sign," he said, looking down at his hands. "I'm working my way up." I didn't say anything to that because I didn't want to confirm that he was by denying the fact. I had a way of giving myself away by being defensive and argumentive.

"You hungry?" I asked, although I knew he already ate. There was an empty plate with bread crumbs in front of him.

"I made a chicken sandwich," he informed me, "I left one for you on the table." I looked surprised and he chuckled.

"Wow, you're cooking for me now?" I teased this time and he waved me off.

"It's just chicken and bread."

"Still, it's a meal without asking for it," I smirked, "You must really like me, Matt." He laughed lightly.

"I do," he admitted, "Although you're intolerably stubborn and pruddish, I somehow find a way to adore you."

"I'm not a prud," I argued, "I'm not stubborn. Holding true to your beliefs isn't a crime."

"You argued me down the other day until I admitted that potato bread was the best bread out there."

"It is," I simply stated before Justin leaned over suddenly and kissed my cheek. It was brief, but the feel of his lips lingered on my warm skin.

"Sorry, I just wanted to try it," he told me sheepishly and I smiled a closed lip smile to hold back my giggle.

"It's cool," I said evenly, settling down the butterflies, "I think I'll go get that sandwich." Justin nodded and I got up from the couch, fighting the smile that was forcing itself across my face.

The battle was lost as soon as I was out of Justin's sight and I laughed at how childish I was being. I had a school girl's crush on the hottest boy in school and he liked me back. My stomach churned, but it wasn't sickening or worried. It was excited and hopeful. I placed my hand to my cheek, the spot he had kissed, and held it there.

My skin was still tingling.

---------------------------------------------------

I woke up the next morning and it felt different. Not because I got to sleep in since I didn't have work today, but because I woke up in Justin's arms and it was warm and soft and comforting. I didn't pull away, even when he turned and tiredly smile down at me.

"Hey," he whispered in a raspy morning voice and shyly looked away, snuggling a bit closer.

"Mornin'," I said and he closed his eyes and smacked his lips.

"You workin'?" he asked and shook my head. It rubbed against the warmth of his chest.

"No, not today," I said and I was feeling excited again, as if we made plans to do something. We didn't, so I don't know exactly what I was looking forward to.

"Good," he yawned, "Get more sleep." I smirked. He was a sleepaholic and I was too awake to be convinced to roll back over. I tried to slip from his grasp, ready to shower, but he held me down.

"Matt," I said, adopting his new name so easily suddenly. "I need to shower." He moaned in protest and I wondered if he made that sound in more that just his sleep. I embarrassed myself with that thought.

"No," he whined, "Stay now, shower later."

"You don't need to get up with me, ya know," I smiled, "You can sleep as long as you want."

"But I want to sleep with you." He pouted and opened his eyes narrowly to block out the sun. "Stay." I was a sucker for a kind word and I ended up back under the sheets and under his arm.

"Not for long," I firmly stated, trying hold onto a bit of my back bone. I don't know when I drifted off, but when I woke, Justin was out of bed and I was laying there. It was sunny as hell out and I figured that some of the brightness came from glare off the white snow laying around everywhere. It was melting though. It came down less frequently and without that much force.

"Hey, sunshine," Justin greeted, strolling into my room with his sweats on and no shirt. His top half was looking a little damp and I figured he just got out of the shower since he tossed a towel into my hamper before walking over to the bed. He leant down quickly and pecked my forehead.

"So you can shower when you want?" I joked as I stretched and yawned. Justin chuckled and poked my stomach as my shirt hiked up and the sheet slid down. I giggled and flinched.

"I didn't wake you when I woke up, so you couldn't stop me," he shrugged, "Besides, I was up for only a half hour before you." He stretched his arms up, bent his elbows and rotated his shoulders. I watched as ever muscle moved in sensous, slow motions.

"Oh..." I said, distracted, before he put his arms down limply and smirked at me, "I should get up then, hmm?"

"You don't have to," Justin smiled, "I could always get back in bed with you." He looked at me, a challenging look that he knew I wouldn't take him up on.

"I'll get up," I chickened out and he smiled to his own satisfaction, "I'm hungry anyway." He nodded in agreement and I climbed out of bed. Justin watched me and wrinkled my nose jokingly before walking down the hall. I put a lot more pep in my step because I knew he was watching me. My shorts were shorter than normal and felt more confident underneath his scrutiny now. I figured he liked me before I admitted the same, so he must've been liking what he saw anyway. No need to feel too self-conscious.

I rushed my way out of a shower, lotioned up and dressed before misting myself with some Magnolia Bloosom body spray. The floral scent made me feel fresh and clean.

"Hey," Justin smiled as I came into the kitchen, "You look cute." I looked down at my dark blue jeans and white tank and rolled my eyes.

"Shut up," I said dismissively as I strolled over to the fridge.

"What?" he asked, "You look good."

"It's jeans and a tank," I argued, "That hardly qualifies as good looking."

"Maybe the woman wearing it makes it good looking," he shot back, "Did you ever think of that?" I pretended to think for a moment before nodding in agreement.

"You're right," I said, grabbing the carton of eggs I was looking for and an onion. "I could make a trash bag look good, couldn't I?" Justin rolled his eyes playfully.

"Now, lets not get cocky, Sweets," he smiled, "Take the compliment and leave it be."

"Fine," I said, "Thanks."

"You're welcome," he said before I walked over to the counter and grabbed a knife and plate. I peeled the onion and rinsed it before cutting it up. Justin was already rinsing a skillet and placing it on the stove with a bit of vegetable oil. He turned the heat on underneath it before I passed him the onions.

"Toss these in there," I said and he dropped them into the skillet, the sizzle and smell filling the kitchen.

"What else?" he asked eagerly as he rinsed off the plate.

"Toss these out," I said, handing him the onion peels and empty egg shells. I had already cracked four eggs into a bowl. He took them from my hands, brushing my skin a little bit long than necessary, and threw them into the trash before washing his hands. He watched in amazement as I seasoned and beat the eggs before pouring them into the skillet with the onions. He passed me a plate after a few minutes and I scrambled the eggs a bit more before placing them in the plate. I collected the rest of the breakfast foods like bacon and sausage, prepared them, and settled down at the kitchen table to eat them with Justin.

We chit chatted mindlessly before we decided to stay in for a the day. We cleaned my house and with Justin's strength and brawn, we moved around my furniture with ease. I liked the way the room expanded with the television in the corner and the sofa at an angle. By the time we were done and showered, pizza arrived for dinner and we settled on the couch for a movie night. We were halfway through Tyler Perry's 'Why Did I Get Married?' when I felt his arms snake around my waist and pull me closer. I figured he was cold since it was dark and colder downstairs. The blanket we were sharing was warm, but hugging one another was nicer. I settled under his arm and sighed.

"You good?" Justin asked softly. I nodded and stared at the screen. This was my favorite part. Jill Scott's character was playing the shit out of her ex-husband for doing her wrong. Telling him to got back to his twenty because her eighty self was out of there. You'd have to watch to understand.

"Asshole," I mumbled, shaking my head as the bastard tried to apologize. Justin laughed beside me.

"You are so into this," Justin said and I looked up at him.

"You don't like it?" I asked sadly. It was one of my favorite movies.

"No, it's good," he said, "You just get so intense during the scenes."

"Sorry, I've watched it too many times," I explained, "Still pissing me off that he tries to get her back."

"He is quite the asshole." I nodded in agreement. We fell silent till the ending credits and I grabbed the remote to eject the DVD. I went to get up to put it back in its case, but Justin's hold on my waist tightned, causing me to fall back onto the couch beside him.

"What?" I asked, smiling as he smirked down at me.

"Nothing," he shrugged, still staring at me. I knew that look and as his eyes glanced down at my lips, I bit them felt shy all over again.

"Matthew," I said, as evenly as possible, "If you're going to kiss me, you might want to do it in this lifetime." He laughed and it seemed huskier than usual.

"I'll kiss you," he assured, licking his lips, "But you have to kiss me first."

"That wouldn't be you kissing me, that would be me kissing you," I corrected.

"I'll kiss you back," Justin offered instead.

"What's the difference?" I asked.

"The difference is that I want you to want me. You already know I want to kiss you," he smiled, "I want you to show me you want me too." I looked down at his lips and then back in his eyes.

"I want you to kiss me," I whispered shyly. Justin looked as if he considered this before his hands turned my body sideways. He was already turned so that he was sitting like me, one knee bent with a foot set firmly on the floor, the other leg stretched along the length of the sofa. He then tightened his grip and pulled me onto his lap in a swift motion. I felt like that girl from his Like I Love You video and I was confused as to why that scene was even in my head. I hadn't seen the video in so long.

It quickly exited my mind though as his hands cupped my face, which was hovering above his now, an inch away. He let his fingers tickled the side of my neck as they played with the loose hairs from my messy bun.

"I hope you know you're gorgeous," Justin said softly. His breath smelled like the fruit punch soda we drank last. My favorite flavor.

"I do," I joked and he smiled softly I leaned down brushing our noses as he tilted his lips away from mine. "I thought I had to kiss you?" I complained and he smirked.

"You do." His left hand smoothed down the length of my back and rest on the small of it. I shivered and it wasn't from the cold. My small hands cupped his face I leaned down slowly, planting my lips on top of his. It was a feather like connection, but I pressed down harder, kneading our lips together. He pushed back with eagerness and I sighed. It felt good. Really good. I ran my hands to his hair as he placed his hand on my jaw and slipped his tongue into my mouth. The silky feel was electrifying and I was overwhelmed by how much I missed kissing. By how warm I was when he wrapped his free arm around me and hugged me closer.

We only breathed through small pecks before kissing more feverishly than before. I could feel that all too familiar ache in myself as I moaned into his mouth before he bit my bottom lip and pulled away. We were breathing hard and staring at each other in a new way. It was different, but comfortable. I just wanted to kiss him again, but when I went to do so again, Justin only offered me a peck on the lips and nose.

"You got work in six hours," he informed me, "You're gonna have four and half hours of sleep if we stop right now."

"And if we don't?" I inquired more boldly than I intended. Justin smirked.

"Then you're not sleeping at all," he told me softly and the thought of a sleepless night looked quite appealing for once. But I knew I had responsibilities. I couldn't be halfway asleep and giving patients morphine.

"Fine." I relented, kissing him one last, passionate time before pulling away. "Damn it." Justin laughed and I fell off of him and back onto the couch. I was still aching and he was cleaning off the coffee table like it was nothing.

"It's okay, baby" he assured when he found me still laying on the couch after he tossed out all the trash and put away leftovers. "Tomorrow's another day." I didn't want to tell him that even tomorrow seemed to faraway. I didn't want to admit that when he took my hand and led me upstairs, all I could think about was the warmth of his hands on my face and back and other places he hadn't even touched yet. I didn't want to tell him I could call out of work for the rest of the week because I was down for how ever many sleepless nights he was willing to give me. This was agony and we hadn't really started yet. The boy's kisses was like a drug. I could feel my body starting to twitch from withdrawl.

My name is Sashierah Hanes and I'm addicted to Justin 'Matthew' Timberlake.

Despite the fact that my addiction was agony, I managed to sleep beside Matthew that night and not act out on my urges to practically rape him in his sleep. He held me close from behind and the warmth of his bare chest against the skin of my back, left exposed by my tank, was enough for now. I woke up with a smile and a kiss from Justin before getting ready for the day ahead of work.

When I got there, Clarissa was on my ass, hounding me with questions about why I was so damn happy and glowing. I told I had a good night's sleep for once, but something in the way she smiled told me she only partially believed me. It didn't matter. My mind was already far too cluttered with thoughts of Matty waiting at home for me. Six o'clock couldn't come fast enough, but when it finally did, I couldn't believe how quickly the time flew.

I stopped at the gorcery store for a moment to pick up some turkey chops for dinner. Matt, I'm sure, was starving. He couldn't cook much, but was learning by watching me move along the kitchen and being my assistant. It was nice to make dinner for two, especially since he washed dishes and threw out the trash.

I almost laughed at myself. We sounded like we're a married couple, but we aren't even really dating, per se. But he lives with me and we sleep in the same bed and as far as he knows, this is his only home... We're completely backward. But I liked it. The quirkiness of it all made me feel like we were unique and oddly stronger than the normal couplings out there.

Not that we were a couple. I mean, we just kissed last night. That can't mean a couple has been formed, right?

I didn't want to think about titles and couples any more. Things start to get misconstrued and misunderstood when they're complicated with nonsense. Matthew and I were enjoying each other's company like two, rational adults attracted to one another. That was what it is and will be for however long this will go on.

"Hey," Matthew greeted as he stood from the sofa and walked briskly over to me. He kissed me before I even locked the door and if it wasn't for the howling wind behind me, I would've forgotten all about the wide open space. I reluctantly pulled away to lock up and Matthew took the one grocery bag I had in my hands as if it were too heavy to carry.

"It's just turkey chops," I informed him as I watched his curious face try and identify the package. He set it on the kitchen counter once we made our way into the room.

"Can I help?" he asked and I smiled.

"Of course." Matt came up behind me and unzipped my coat slowly. In the daze following the kiss, I had forgetten all about it.

"Let me hang up this up for you," he whispered into my ear as he brought his hands up to my shoulders and slid the coat from my arms. It was purposely slow and unnecessarily touchy, but I couldn't do anything but giggle once he walked out of the room.

I started on the chops quickly, already wanting dinner to be over and done with just so we could snuggle onto the sofa. I was down for just another movie night and as Matthew came walking into the kitchen again, smiling for no reason and absolutely gorgeous in black basketball shorts and a random green t-shirt, I was down for getting right to bed soon afterwards.

"Can you grab me an onion?" I asked as I turned my gazing eyes from him.

"Sure," he said simply and I heard the fridge open as he dug through it. I had to take a deep breath for a moment, not quite sure why my lungs weren't functioning properly. I furrowed my brows in concentration as I washed the meat and placed it into a clean bowl.

"Can you cut it up and wash it?" Matthew had already grabbed the cutting board and was chopping away before I finished my sentence.

"I'm three steps ahead of you, babe," he teased and I replayed 'babe' in my head over and over. I almost gagged at my school girl thoughts. Strangers gave me pet names and I didn't swoon and repeat them. Just the other day, I would've told him I wasn't his babe and that he should never call me that again if he wanted his balls to be attached. Now, I feel like he could call me a giant purple elephant and I'd sigh and ask myself how I got so lucky.

"Tomato sauce," I requested once I robotically seasoned the chops and allowed them to marinate. The small, blue Goya can of tomato sauce was placed in my hand and I opened it with the opener. I went to get a pot from the oven, my secret hiding place for all my pots and pans, but Justin was already passing me a rinsed one.

"I told you I'm three steps ahead of you," he smirked, proud as hell. I smiled at him and took the pot.

"Thank you," I voiced, taking it from his hands. He grabbed my wrist before I completely moved away and gave me a quick kiss.

"You're welcome," he told me, turning back to the sink to finish dishes from earlier. I slowly made my way back over to the stove and placed the pot on top of it. My breathing was awkward again and I realized Matthew was culprit. It's been a while since somebody's made my heart race with their presence and my body was adjusting to the sudden change in my environment.

Making dinner was a blur, but as we settled and began to eat, my attention was on Matthew as he chowed down on my chops like he never had food before. I wondered if he ate like that as Justin Timberlake or if this beast was caused by all the pressure to have the proper eitquette all the time. Standing still and looking pretty must've been a lot more work than I imagined. It made me frown.

"What's wrong?" Matthew asked, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. I made a sour face.

"Use a napkin," I scolded lightly, tossing him a piece of paper towel.

"Sorry," he mumbled sheepishly, "I guess that explains the face you were making."

"Maybe that's just my face," I joked and he smiled at me before leaning on his elbows placed on the edge of the table.

"Who do you look like?" he asked curiously and I raised a brow.

"Sasheirah Hanes?" He rolled his eyes impatiently.

"No, family wise," he asked, "Do you look like your mom or dad or sister...Do you have a sister? Do you have a brother?"

"Damn, can I answer a question before you ask another?" I smirked.

"My bad," he smiled, "Okay, so who do you resemble?" I thought for a moment.

"My mama, I guess," I shrugged, "I don't really remember my dad."

"What happened to him?" He sipped his water and I stared at the glass for a moment.

"Dead beat daddy," I answered simply, "Didn't want to be around and my mom didn't want him to be around either. They went their separate ways."

"Oh, well that's fine," Justin comforted, "You had your mom and she obvious did a good job." I shrugged again.

"I guess."

"So what about sisters or brothers?" he asked, "You told me once you had siblings, but you never specified."

"I have two sisters and two brothers, all older." I sipped my juice and he bit his bottom lip.

"You close to any of them?" I shook my head.

"Not really," I said, "We might visit my mom together sometimes, but we're not best friends. We all get along well enough."

"Cool," Matt said, "You have any nieces or nephews?"

"Three nieces and a nephew," I smiled subconsciously, "All adorable."

"Aww," Matthew cooed, "How old are they?"

"The nieces are twelve, eight, and one," I counted off on my fingers, "And the big headed nephew is five."

"That's so cool," he commented in awe, "I want to have kids."

"I'm sure," I said awkwardly.

"I want a big family," he continued, "I grew up alone for the most part. I have two half brothers though."

"Wow, more googling, I see," I chuckled and Matthew glanced down at the table.

"Actually, no," he said slowly, "...I actually just remembered that." I blinked and stared at him for a long moment before looking away.

"Oh, that's great," I tried to sound cheerful, but it sounded fake, even to me. I shifted in my seat.

"And I resemble my mother," he admitted softly, "That I remember too." I stared down at my hands and we were so quiet that the dripping faucet seemed to boom in the tiny space of the kitchen. I remembered when I couldn't wait for him to say things like that, but now, I can't bear the thought of that faithful day he rolls over and says 'Who the hell are you?' and calls his millions of security guards and gets me put away for kidnapping.

Who would believe he voluntarily came home with me? Who'd believe Justin Timberlake voluntarily stepped foot in North Philly? I'll probably be put into the nearest, high security asylum.

"Well..." I started, no longer wanting to think about this bullshit, "How about some Superbad?" Matthew looked up happily from his almost cleared plate.

"I'm down," he smirked, "I'll set everything up." He got up before I could say much else and I figured he wanted to escape the awkwardness as much as I did. I found myself feeling more and more anxious about Justin's random memories. I wanted him to get his life back, I did. I can't imagine the torture it might be to have so many faces in your head and not a single name or type of idea of what they mean to you. I can't even imagine what his family's going through. They must be sick with worry.

I sighed to myself, stuck in a very selfish spot that made me think that it didn't matter. He was Matthew, not Justin Timberlake. This was his home and this is where he wanted to be. I told myself that a million times last night as I realized that I was already growing attached to somebody who was inevitably temporary. His instability took away from his charm, but I was still caught in the hype of his smile and the feel of his hands, even though I knew I was being foolish. For once, in such a long time, I was being reckless. My responsible subsconscious was wailing in pain and rejection.

"Are you mad?" Matthew asked as I stepped into the living room. I shook my hands of the last few water droplets left on them from clearing the table and washing all the dishes. I shrugged indifferently.

"No, not really." His lips pursed with uncertainty before he grabbed the remote from the coffee table and plopped down onto the couch.

"Join me?" he asked, patting the spot beside him. I smiled softly and made my way over to him, tucking myself under his lifted arm. He draped it over my shoulder and hugged me close to him. The movie started and we both stared at the screen. I really did love Superbad, but my laughs were stiffled down to smiles at the beginning. Something in me was too sad to really enjoying the jokes.

After a while, things started to relax a little. Halfway through the movie, we were both laughing out loud and Justin's other hand was absentmindedly playing with my finger tips. I sighed when I glanced down at the scene and realized that his hands looked so good with mine. They were warm and long and peachy toned and the contrast between my brown tone was sharp, but intriguing. It reminded me of the times Angel's hands were intertwined with mine. Angel wasn't white like Justin, but he was Puerto Rican and somewhat tan. Our contrasting tones were still as bold, but we both grew up around the same parts and had similiar cultural backgrounds.

Matthew's hands looked out of place. They were manicured and soft, the tips slightly callous. I was sure it was from strumming on the guitar. I've seen him play on t.v. from time to time. It was the coolest thing about Justin, aside from his dancing, that I ever really remembered or appreciated. I frowned, wishing I had been some sort of a closet fan of his. Then again, I'm glad I didn't have any preconceived notions about him. I liked that I got to know him from scratch.

"What are you thinkin' about?" I heard him mutter softly as I glanced up and realized the movie was over. He had turned the television off and was looking down at me patiently for an answer. I shrugged.

"You, I guess," I answered vaguely, "I was just thinking about how cool it was that you play guitar."

"Do I, really?" he asked, genuinely amazed and curious as I nodded my head with a smile.

"You're good too," I complimented, "Your dancing is better though." He looked smug with his smirk planted on his face, but his light blush told me he was flattered and didn't really know how to comment on the double compliments he just received from me.

"Thanks," he finally mumbled and I sighed and sat up.

"I think it's time for bed." His body detached from mine unwillingly as I stood up and stretched. I shivered when the cool air of the room hit the skin of my stomach as my shirt hiked up. Then I shivered from another feeling. A feeling of Matthew's lips suddenly attached to my stomach. He kissed my warm flesh; the wetness of his mouth leaving a cooling trail up my torso. His hands had latched themselves to my sides, sliding upward and taking chunks of my shirt with it, leaving my belly out in the cold and covered in goosebumps.

I couldn't tell if the goosebumps were from the cool air of the living room or the fact that he was kissing the area, but whichever it was caused me to gently stroke his curling hair, holding him closer. He continued to move upward, teasing me by stopping his hands and kisses before he reached my chest. I sighed and opened my eyes, which closed without my knowledge, and watched him stand from his kneeling position to kiss the very tip of my nose.

"You don't have work tomorrow, right?" he asked and I shook my head.

"Does this mean I get to stay up all night?" I teased as he chuckled lightly. I was talking big, but my butterfly-filled gut reaction was nothing but fear and shyness. I was still shivering from the warmth of his hands, still of my sides, holding up my shirt. The trail of his wet kisses now left behind a tingling sensation. His kiss was electrifying, no matter where he placed his lips and it made my mind wander for a moment.

"We'll have to see," Matthew told me nonchalantly as he took my hand and led me up the stairs. Justin was the first to shower and I followed afterward. I opted to wear a cotton nightie, short, but warm. Sexy, but not overbearing. It was simple enough to sleep in and tease with and as I walked in the room with the pink material covering my body, Matthew's eyes scanned over me in appreciation.

"What?" I asked dumbly, tossing my day's clothes into the hamper and crossing over to my side of the bed. He closed the laptop he had been using and placed it on the floor, underneath the bed, before turning back to me.

"You look beautiful." I self-consciously adjusted my messy bun, wishing I had done something with my hair. I couldn't have shown that much desperation though. I didn't want to give off too strong a vibe and have both him and myself running for the hills.

"Thankies," I felt silly the moment the word left my mouth, not knowing what the hell possessed me to use such a childish phrase. I almost cringed when I looked up at Matthew, my expression pained subtly.

"Thankies?" Matt inquired with an amused smirk. "That's cute." I frowned, not wanting to be cute.

"I'm grown," I reminded, "I'm not cute."

"Would you prefer ugly?" he asked and I rolled my eyes.

"I would prefer a term used to describe a grown woman, not a prepubescent child."

Matthew laughed, the corners of his eyes crinkling in the process. "You may be grown, but you pout like a prepubescent child." I fixed my mouth when I realized my bottom lip was protruding.

"Shut up," I retorted, childishly, might I add, and to his satisfaction. He snickered when I continued to glare at him.

"Okay, okay," he finally relented after I crossed my arms over my chest and continued to stare at him. It honestly wasn't that funny. Hell, it wasn't funny in the first place. "How old are you again?" he asked casually a moment later and I jokingly gasped.

"You never ask a lady her age," I told him. He gave me a bored expression, but it broke out into a small smile.

"C'mon, Sash," he egged on, "What's you age?" By this time, I had successfully tucked myself in bed and was ready to sleep. I fluffed my pillows and pulled my comforter up over my shoulders. His eyes followed my every movement. I stared back as best I could, my gaze never being quite as strong as his.

"I was born on the seveth day of February in the year of nineteen-eighty-four." Matt took a moment to pause and calculate. I rolled my eyes. He could dance and sing and play guitar, but math was not his strong point. I almost gave him the answer my damn self.

"You're twenty-three," Justin stated proudly. I nodded to acknowledge he was right.

"I'll be twenty-four soon though," I told him, "In about...two weeks."

"Well," he smiled smuggly, "I'm twenty-eight in ten days. I'm four years your senior, sug." I rolled my eyes.

"Did you remember that too?" I asked, almost too bitter to both his and my liking. He crumpled his face in an adorable pout.

"No, that I googled," he told me softly. "I guess you don't like me remember things." I glanced down at the bed.

"No, it's a good thing that you're remembering," I said as earnestly as I could muster, "I just think it's pretty shitty that you can't get your damn bank account number together." He cracked a smile, but it didn't quite reach his eyes the way I had hoped. My stomach flipped a little when he sighed deeply before reaching for my hand. I was chilled by the coolness of his skin. His hands were always a bit colder than mine.

"It scares me," he confessed in a gentle tone, almost as if he were admitting a cowardice. I frowned at the sadness myself and gave his fingers a squeeze.

"Why?" I inquired and he shrugged.

"I'm just scared about what's gonna happen that day," he pouted, "What happens when I roll over and remember exactly who I am?"

"What happened to destiny and you belonging exactly where you are?" I teased, although a part of me was silently wishing it were all true now.

"You happened," he smirked, "It's not realistic to think like that." I didn't say anything, feeling like the Debbie Downer. Why did I have to go along and crush his innocent dream?

"Oh, so now you listen to me..." I grumbled and he reached his free hand over to poke me. I giggled against my will before slapping his hand away.

"I always listen to you," he said, reaching up to caress my cheek this time. I didn't slap his hand away though. I just leant into his warmed palm. "You're amazing and that's what scares me, Sash." I crinkled my nose at the compliment and also in confusion.

"Why does that scare you?" I asked. "Afraid you can't handle this, Matty Boy?" He sucked his teeth and scoffed accordingly.

"Please, Miss. Hanes, it's you who can't handle me," he said with assurance, "I'm just scared that I won't remember that when everything clicks. I don't know how this works, ya know? Do I wake up and remember nothing about Philly or do I remember everything, but some details? Do I wake up and remember you or do I wake up and not have a clue about who you are?" I mentally grimaced at the last part; my greatest fear, and shrugged.

"I dunno," I told him honestly, "Maybe I should make up a contract right now that says you won't sue or get me arrested for kidnapping should you not remember me." Justin chuckled at the thought, but I was serious. I, for one, liked to avoid unneccessary drama. Then again, the boy's presence has been clouding my judgment lately. The fact that we were laying here, holding hands, was proof of that. I was just setting myself up for disappointment. I sighed, pulling my hand away from his and tucking it beneath my pillow as I turned onto my side. I used my arm to prop my neck up a little, giving some support to the cushion beneath my head.

"You're not mad are you?" Justin asked as I turned my back to him.

"No," I said, and I wasn't lying. Sad. Frustrated. Stuck. Confused...were more or less the correct emotions. "I'm just tired." It was easier to imagine he wasn't there when I couldn't see his face. I closed my eyes, trying to pretend I was fine, but as Justin moved up behind me, wrapping his arm protective across my waist and pulling me close, I couldn't bare to push him from my mind. I curved my body a little, making our spooning more complete by relax my once rigid form. My arm rested over his and I held his hand as I reached up to turn off the light. The lamp clicked and it was dark. I pulled back against him and he rested his face into the back of my neck. I felt his nose run along my skin and I heard him breathe in my scent.

"I don't think I could ever forget you," his muffled voice came from behind me, "Not even on my worse day." I closed my eyes, wanting to believe him, but how could I? The boy didn't even know his own name or mother or career when he first encountered me. All things extremely important. People and events in his life that held more importance that I ever could. I felt the unmistakable urge to shed a tear.

"Goodnight, Matt," I said flatly and he squeezed me lightly.

"Night."

I woke up to being pushed and pulled violently. I gasped, startled to see it was dark out and I could barely make out the face that was hovering over me. I was dazed in my sleepiness, but found enough strength to push away the hands shoving me.

"What the fuck?" I groaned, knowing I should've been more concerned about my safety rather than concentrating on going back to sleep.

"You gotta get up," I heard Matthew say, sounding as exhausted and raspy as my own voice. I moaned in protest and he shook me again as I tried to lie back down.

"It's so dark..." I complained, my eyes tight and unwilling to open beyond a slit.

"You've got a night shift," he reminded me, "It's seven o'clock...You need to be at work by eight tonight." My face crumpled up in defiance.

"No," I complained, "Tell them I'm sick."

"Sasheirah Hanes, if you don't get up..." His tone was playful, but I still sat up and sighed. My eyes adjusted to the darkness and settled on his body, which was illuminated only be the moon and streetlights. A mix of orange and white fell over him and I stared at his profile. He was hunched over, rubbing his face tiredly.

"Why are you sleeping?" I asked, "It's too early for you to sleep."

"I was bored with you sleeping all day," he yawned, "Watching you sleep isn't exactly entertainment, so I took a nap." It was twelve past seven now and I knew I needed to get up. I had a twelve-hour shift and I wasn't looking forward to it. Thanks to Angela's, a fellow nurse, slip and fall, us nurses were stuck picking up her extra hours. It sucked, but I was gonna get more money. That was enough inspiration to stand and stretch.

"You freakin' creeper," I smiled as something dawned on me, "You watched me sleep." Justin stretched his arms over his head before falling right back against the bed.

"You're beautiful when you sleep," he stated simply and I rolled my eyes.

"Yes, I'm sure the drooling was gorgeous." I followed with a snort for emphasis and he breathed in deeply.

"You, my dear, need to give yourself more credit," Justin told me, scratching his side, "You're beautiful all the time. Especially when you're sleeping. You're so quiet and cute."

"What did I say about that awful word?" I said, quickly changing the subject that was growing increasing more awkward for me. I didn't like compliments, but Justin loved to give them...all the time. It was irritating and embarrassing, to say the least.

"Cute is not an awful word," he argued in a disinterested tone, "You know what's an awful word? Cunt. That's an awful word."

"That's a vulgar word, but it's hilarious." I quickly dug through my drawers for underwear and clothes, avoiding the pout I knew was on his face. After our night of fear confessions, I did what every red blooded person would do in our situation: ignored the issue. I tried not to bring memories and the 'what if's into our daily conversation. It worked for three days before Matt decided to bring it up again, revealing that he loved golf and could remember playing a couple of times with his best friend Trace. I nodded and let it go, but he kept bringing it up, asking if I didn't want to know about his memories and argued that we should talk about it.

We ended up in a screaming match and I called him a stupid cunt in the mist of anger. I didn't even realize what I said until he halted the argument and asked what I called him. He didn't speak to me for two more days until I apologized yesterday. He said it was okay, but he was apparently still quite bitter.

"It's not very lady-like to use such a term." I rolled my eyes and turned to face him with my clothes bundled up in my arms.

"It's not very manly to still be crying over name calling," I retorted. He huffed and turned onto his side.

"I hope you're not mean like this in four days," he mumbled and I furrowed my brow.

"Why?" I asked and he dramatically flipped over to face me with his mouth hanging open.

"Did you seriously forget?" he asked, "It's the twenty-seventh."

"Yeah...today's the twenty-seventh..."

"Add four to twenty-seven..." he egged on.

"Okay..." I mumbled dumbly.

"It's thirty-one." Matthew looked at me expectantly.

"I'm not following." He groaned.

"January...The thirty-first day of January..." He pointed to himself and I nodded slowly.

"Right," I smiled, "It's the end of the month! My birthday's not too far behind." He gave me a bored expression as I laughed out loud.

"You're an ass," he grumbled and I walked over to the bed, kissing his forehead.

"It's okay, Boo," I giggled, "I wouldn't forget your birthday, of all the days." No, I could not. I was actually excited for some reason. I wanted to celebrate with him and had already asked Sondra to take my shift. I didn't have anything planned, but the idea of staying in, lazing around, was still quite appealing.

"You better not," Matthew told me with a small smirk, "I already know what I'm getting you."

"Boy, you don't have money," I reminded, already heading for the door.

"You know what they say," he called behind me, "The best things in life are free!" I rolled my eyes and went about my business. My curiosity quickly thought over what Matt could give me for my birthday. They all revolved around something sexual and if Matthew was who I thought he was, I was right.

After my shower and getting dressed, I headed back to the bedroom to dispose of my clothes. Justin was laying back on the bed, googling his heart out on my laptop. I didn't say anything. I didn't like google any more. It filled his head with too many names and facts.

"I'm leaving," I said, catching the 7:36pm time on my alarm clock. "Call me if anything and make sure you get some sleep. Don't google all night."

"Okay, Mom," Matthew mumbled, not bothering to look up from the screen.

"Well, shit, I might as well be," I shot back, "I cook and clean and clothe you, don't I?"

"That could make you my wife too," he smirked at the screen, "But if you want to be my mom instead..."

"Goodbye, Justin," I groaned, rolling my eyes. I could've just punched myself for allowing my heart to jump a little when he said 'wife'. As if I'd marry him any time soon. I barely like Matthew, let alone want to marry his nut ass.

"Bye, Wifey!" I sighed and jogged down the stairs. I walked over to the side closet and pulled on my jacket before the sound of running feet caused me to turn back to the steps. It was just a blur coming towards before I realized it was Matthew's hype ass.

"What the hell?" I complained as he grabbed my arms and held me steady after he almost ran me down. I glanced up and he was frowning, his pouting face confused and hurt.

"I can't believe we almost did that," he said and I looked around the room like I would find the answer to my question there.

"What are you talking about?" He smiled down at me for a moment before wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me to his chest. I stood there limply as he hugged me tightly and kissed the top of my head before pulling back. I made a sour face. "All that for a hug?" I inquired and he took a moment to pretend to think before leaning down and kissing me gently, nibbling on my bottom lip as I sighed and kissed him back. It was gentle and sweet and we broke apart reluctantly.

"All that for a hug and a kiss," he smiled. "Never leave home without either one." I rolled my eyes, but smiled.

"I'll remember that," I told him before trying to turn around and leave again. His hands tightened around my waist and I gave him an annoyed look.

"Just one more," he said before kissing me again. It lasted three seconds before he moved back a centimeter. "Okay, one more." I laughed as he kissed my bottom lip. "Another one for good luck?" he continued to mumble against my mouth. "One more for great luck..." I giggled as he kissed me again and again in quick pecks all over my face. I playfully pushed him away as best I could and restrained him by keeping my hand against his chest. He was cheesing his ass off when I couldn't fight my giggles.

"You're so..." I trailed off, not able to find a word that's quite like him.

"Amazing?" Matthew supplied. "Perfect? Romantic?" I rolled my eyes.

"Modest?" I joked and he poked my side, making me laugh again. "Okay, okay. One of us has to be an adult and go to work now..."

"Oh, burn," Matt said dryly, zipping up my jacket for me before giving my ponytail a tug. "Have fun at work."

"Yeah, yeah," I grumbled, checking my pockets for my keys, jingling them for confirmation, and heading outside. It was cold and I hugged myself as I trailed over to my old faithful Buick. I didn't hear the door close behind me, so I was sure Matthew was watching me. I felt safer underneath his gaze and didn't rush as much as I usually did at night to get into the car. I slipped inside with ease, waving at Matt as he leaned on the doorframe and waved back with a smile. I wanted to tell him to get inside before he caught a cold, but he looked so comfortable in his sweats and white t-shirt that I didn't think it was that necessary to nag at him. He stood there until I started the car and beeped as I finally pulled off. I got one last wave before he disappeared from my vision and I concentrated on the road ahead of me.

I did not want to go. Not only was I tired and could've slept for two days straight, but also because I would not be able to wake up to Matthew in the morning or sleep wrapped up in his arms. I was disappointed to no end about that. And he had to go and be all cute at the door before I left, as if I didn't feel guilty enough for driving away, leaving that gorgeous boy all alone. I felt guilty everyday leaving him. I knew he had to be going crazy being all cooped up in that house all day, all the time. Not that he ever complained about it. He's so whiny I'm sure he'd mention it if it were bothering him a lot, but I was still worried.

I shook my head as I turned down Broad. I didn't want to think about Matthew and worry. Not only about his boredom, but other things that came to my mind when I worried about Matthew. I hated the fact that I even cared enough to let my mind wander on more occasions than I'd like to admit. It made me feel stupid to be this attached. I should definitely know better. I feel like I can't imagine getting up in the morning and cooking breakfast just for me with no kiss or hug or playful exchange of tired words.

The idea of spending my days off alone almost made me cringe. I needed to get real. Matthew was Justin Timberlake and he would leave me sure enough. My heart recoiled in my chest. Tight and uneasy. I sighed and flipped on the radio, allowing all the talk to drown out my thoughts until I reached the hospital. Today would be the longest shift ever. Nights were fairly slow here. I would just be watching over the older patients and maybe the ICU. I can't really remember all of Angela's responsibilities. I'll double check the chart once I get inside.

"You look like shit," Clarrisa's voice announced before I barely got a foot on the linoleum floor. I rolled my eyes.

"Thanks," I said tiredly.

"Matthew keeping you from sleeping?" she teased and I couldn't help but smirk.

"We're just friends, Clarrisa."

"Oh, blah, blah, blah," she said, waving me off, "He's cute."

"So?" I said, nonchalantly, as she followed me down the hall towards the nurses' lounge.

"So... y'all are shacking up, right?" When I came in, Mikela was sitting at the round white table, sipping on coffee. She nodded at me in acknowledgment and I offered the same greeting.

"He's homeless," I told her over my shoulder as I dug through my pockets for my keys. "I took him in."

"I've never seen you pick up any other homeless person," she laughed as I made my way over to my locker and opened it. "Now you're Mother Theresa, huh?" I stuffed my purse inside of the metal box and slammed it shut.

"Clarrisa, I'm gonna slap you if you don't stop," I warned, but she just laughed in my face.

"Okay, okay," she relented, "I was just curious because Shannon mentioned that you saw him naked before, so..." I whipped my head around.

"What?" I asked in disbelief. Clarrisa backed up and held up her hands in another mock surrender.

"That's just what I heard." I furrowed my brows. As if I didn't want to kill Shannon on the daily. Now she was spreading rumors.

"Yeah, that's what she told Nikki on the third floor," Mikela's voice came in as she sipped on her Starbucks, "Brittany told me and I told Mel who probably told you." She nodded towards Clarrisa who smirked and nodded.

"Mel's the one," she confirmed, "But Shannon's the fire starter. You know that woman's just jealous of you. That's why she's running her mouth. She wanted Matthew for herself."

"That's what I think," Mikela cosigned, "She was a little too bitter about you seeing him in all his glory."

"I didn't see him like that," I clarified, "When I first found him in the street, he needed some help bathing, so as all of us nurses would do..."

"Right," Mikela smiled, "You were just helping him shower." I raised an annoyed brow as her and Clarrisa giggled.

"It was not like that," I continued to argue, "Seriously."

"Okay, girl," Clarrisa grinned, "You don't have to convince us."

"I know I don't," I snapped, realizing that this is exactly why I didn't like girl talk, "Whether or not I saw Matthew naked or the reason why I saw him naked is nobody's business. And ask Shannon if my name taste good because it always seems to be in her mouth."

"Oh, well, shit," Mikela laughed, "I'll do that." I rolled my eyes. This felt like high school part two. I left the room, hearing laughter behind me. As if this night wasn't going to be long enough. I oughta smack Shannon the next time I see her dumbass. Now all these nurses are going to be in my business and asking a million questions. I could already see the sly glances and whispering behind my back.

Was it too late to call out sick? Maybe if I inject myself with a small and harmless virus, I can go home, be sick, and come back when this is over.

---------------------------

Despite the earlier lounge nonsense, Clarrisa and Mikela went along working as usual. Nobody said anything to me and I didn't say anything to anybody. I triple checked on my patients and went down by the maternity ward to see the newborns sleep. It had always been a bit of a pass time for me. I loved how small and fragile they were. I loved that they had just been birthed, probably one of the most terrifying experiences of their lives, and yet they could close their eyes and dream it all away.

Seriously, birth had to be the worst moment of your life. You're all bundled up and warm and fed and well protected in this soft cacoon with minimal noise and no other face but your own. And then in an instant, the warmth you've lived in, your life source, slowly drains away and there's all this noise and pushing and this very bright light at the end of this small tunnel you can barely get your head through and all these hands are reaching for you, pulling you away from your home and tearing your world apart as they drag you, unwillingly, into theirs. All the noise and lights and movements and a much colder temperature than you're used to hits you all at once. Faces you've never seen crowding your space. Air you've never felt graces your lungs and it's so cold and shocking that you cry and nobody really pays much mind as they bundle you up and place you in the arms of an unfamiliar face. A mother you're gonna love now since she's the first one that holds you still and gives you a moment to take in where you are.

I don't know. Maybe it's one of those weird things you're not suppose to say out loud, but I feel like infancy is the bravest and strongest stage of human life. They're so open to change and they're so honest. They cry whenever they need something and sleep when they don't. It's when you get older that you become the whiny little bastard we all are sometimes. We cry for everything. We complain about most changes. We're scared of all things unfamiliar.

I sighed to myself as I pressed my hand against the glass of the nursery. Dozens of little faces. All different shades, but with almost the exact same features. Crazy and beautiful. I placed my hands over my stomach for a moment, wondering if it was something I wanted. Children. I used to be sure it was when Angel was around. I couldn't wait to have his kids. I shook my head and smiled sadly to myself as I dropped my hands and moved down the hall. I was such a stupid woman.

I felt my pager vibrating, expecting it to be a patient. I hurried my footsteps as I looked at the screen. Surprising, it was Clarrisa at the front desk. I sighed, slowing down as I headed toward the stairs and down to the lobby. I slowed as I rounded the corner and saw an all too familiar figure leaning on the front counter, smirking down and chatting it up with Clarrisa. She looked comfortable and he was fine as hell in just sweats and a hoodie.

"Matthew?" I asked as I approached the counter. He stood up straighter and Clarrisa smiled to herself, like she had just confirmed something she knew all along.

"Hey," he smiled slowly, and I couldn't stop the smirk from forming on my face.

"What are you doing here?" I asked. He raised a paper bag covered in a plastic bag and pointed at it proudly.

"I made you lunch," he announced, "Thought you'd be hungry by now, so I came by to eat with you."

I glanced over at the clock on the wall behind the desk. "It's two in the morning, Matt. And how did you get down here?" He raised a hand to silence my rant before I got out of hand.

"I'm well aware of the time," he informed me, "And I walked. It's like twenty minutes." My eyes almost popped out of my head.

"You walked?" I squeaked out, "Do you have a death wish?"

"No," he grumbled, raising his brows and nodding towards Clarrisa subtly, "Can we go eat somewhere? Please." It was more of a demand than request and I sighed, not wanting to talk in front of Clarrisa's nosey self either.

"I'm going on lunch," I announced, turning my back and going towards the break room. I could hear Justin tell Clarrisa how nice it was to meet her before his sneakers squeaked behind me. I rolled my eyes when he strolled up beside me, trying his best to match my angry stride.

"Way to scold me in front of your friends," he complained, "Are you my mom or my girl?" I haulted my actions to whirl around and Justin nearly tripped over me.

"First off, since when did we discuss me being your girl?" I asked. Justin glanced around the hall and confirmed it was empty before turning to me.

"You're not my girl?" he asked innocently. I wanted to scream no, but something tugged at my gut.

"I don't know," I sighed, honestly, "I don't really like titles."

"Okay, fine," Matthew dismissed, "But you're definitely not my mother. What the hell was that back there?" He gestured behind him.

"That was me being pissed off that you walked here at two o'clock in the morning," I angrily replied, "Are you fuckin' crazy? Do you not remember why you're here in the first place?" He rolled his eyes.

"I'm here to eat lunch with you," he told me.

"You're here because you were walking through this same neigborhood and -"

"I know what happened," he interrupted, annoyed, "I was there. I remember that much." He held out the bag towards me. "Enjoy your lunch." I glanced down at the bag and back at him.

"What are you doing?" I asked as I placed my hands on my hips.

"I'm leaving," he informed me, "You obviously are annoyed by my presence, so I'm gonna leave this bag of chicken salad sandwiches, which I almost killed myself making because you know I can barely toast bread, and I'm going to walk back to your house. Oh, and I promise not to get jumped and beat up, but should it happen again, I will not bother you with my nonsense problems." He wiggled the bag and I rolled my eyes.

"If you don't stop your melodramatics, I'm going to punch you in the eye." He gave me a bored look. I sighed. "Fine, I'm sorry for yelling at you in front of Clarrisa, but I'm not sorry for correcting your behavior. Something could've happened to you and I wouldn't know how to correct the issue. All I would've known is that you were suppose to be at home, sleeping."

"I'm sorry for not telling you, but I wanted to surprise you and I knew you'd tell me no."

"Of course I would've," I said, "How could I let you walk, in this freezing cold, through a dark and dangerous neighborhood, all the way to my job just so you could eat lunch with me?"

"You don't have to let me, I made the decision on my own," he said, "And I'm here, all in one piece, unharmed and hungry."

"Why are you wearing just a hoodie?" I finally realized it was definitely a bit underdressed.

"Mikela took my coat," he said, "Relax, mom. I can dress myself at the very least." I stared at him and he stared at me. I wanted to smack him for coming down here and being stupid. I could only imagine what those guys would've done to him if he happened to walk past them again. It made a chill run through my spine, but Justin didn't seem concerned at all. As if risking his life was worth chicken salad with me.

"You're insane," I told him and I meant it.

"I'm only crazy about you," he nudged me and I laughed at his corny line.

"You're so damn lame," I teased as we began to make our way towards the lounge again. I walked slower this time and Matthew was grateful.

"I think I am," he mumbled.

"What? Lame?" He playfully shoved me into the lounge once we approached it and I laughed as he chuckled behind me.

"No, crazy," he clarified, "About you, that is." I paused before I turned around and faced him.

"I think you're crazy too," I said, "But just crazy." He rolled his eyes, but smiled.

"I'm serious," he continued, despite my effort to avoid the subject, "It was pretty stupid to walk all the way down here, but all I could think about was being able to see you." He shrugged and became shy after his words left his mouth. "I guess that makes me kinda lame too...and the whole 'be my girl' thing was pretty stupid..." He laughed at himself as he stammered onto mumbles I could no longer comprehend. I felt myself shying up a bit too. He was blushing and that was making me want to 'awwwwww' him to no end.

"Well, I'm really glad you're here, in one piece," I smiled, "And thank you for wanting to eat lunch with me."

"No problem, baby," he said, more confidently. I took the moment to steal a seat at the table. Matthew followed suit and sat beside me. He placed the bag onto the white table top and began to pull out four sandwiches in ziplock bags and a bottle of cranberry apple juice. There were some chips and a tubaware of sliced fruits.

"Wow, you really out did yourself," I commented as I opened up my sandwich, which was warm and mixed with eggs and onions. I took a bite of it, and the seasoning was good. There was a bit more mayo than necessary, but all-in-all, it was delicious.

"I tried," Matthew said modestly, "I didn't know how hungry you were."

"This is really good," I complimented sincerely and he scoffed.

"Shut up," he joked, "It's terrible and you're being nice." I gave him a sideways glance.

"Now, Matty Boy," I raised a brow, "Would I lie to you if this was terrible?" He laughed and shook his head.

"I seriously doubt it," he smiled.

"Exactly," I swallowed another bite, "This is really good."

"You're just really hungry."

"That too," I agreed as Matthew unraveled his sandwich and dug in as well. We ate and chatted aimlessly for the rest of my hour break. It was nice to have his company, as always. I couldn't help but feel flattered that he went through so much trouble for me to have a nice, homemade lunch. I couldn't bare to imagine what my kitchen looked like right about now. I hope he didn't burn anything down when he cooked the chicken for the salad.

"You'll be done in about five hours, right?" Matthew inquired as he cleaned up our mess and placed the rest of our untouched juice into the lounge's refridgerator.

"Yeppers," I confirmed, rubbing my full stomach.

"I can hang around until then, I guess," he said, taking a seat back next me and placing his head on my lap as he hunched over and sighed.

"I'll take you home," I said, rubbing the back of his neck and the ends of his hair.

"No, I want to stay," he argued from my lap. "I can't go back to the house and sleep alone. You have to be my pillow."

I smiled to myself as he sat up to look at me, pouting. "You're going to be so bored here."

"That's cool," he assured, "I'd be bored at home anyway." My worry settled in and my smile flattered.

"Are you really bored at home all the time?" I asked, "Do you need something to entertain you? Video games, maybe?"

"No, I'm fine," he assured, "I'm just saying that I miss you when you're gone sometimes, and I'd rather be at work with you. Besides, Clarrisa looks bored at the desk. I could just wander around until your shift's over. I won't follow you around like a lost puppy or anything, if that's what you're worried about." I blinked and stared at him. I was trying to decide whether or not he was actually sitting here. Something about Matthew didn't seem real.

"I think..." My mouth was moving, but I didn't quite know what I was saying. "I think I should take you home." I felt myself screaming What?

"Sash, I said I'm fine," Matthew assured, giving my knee a small squeeze. I looked down at him hand and back up at him. "I'm staying right here with you." As I looked into his bright blue eyes, looking at me with a playful, carefree glint, I realized that he didn't seem real because he was saying all the right things and making me lunch at two o'clock. He was being annoyingly good to me and I felt myself melting down every defense I built up over the years. I was absolutely terrified.

But I liked it.

"Okay," I smiled, "You're staying."

--------------------------------

I woke up and it was dark outside. I smiled to myself as I rolled over and felt an arm pulling me straight into the body I was looking for. In the light of the moon, I could see his face, tired, but smiling and awake. I tucked my face into his neck and kissed his adam's apple. I felt his hand smooth back my wild hair from my face and I smiled as a few brushes of his fingertips tickled my ear.

"Hey," he greeted lazily and I loved the vibration that ran through his throat and moved my lips as they pressed against his pulse. I gave his jaw a kiss and sighed as I snuggled more into him.

"Hey," I managed to squeak out from my space in his neck. He ran his hands over my back and arm and I felt myself grow deeply content. I never wanted to move. Ever. I could be cemented to this bed, permenantly wrapped up in his arms, running my lips over his stubble covered throat. I didn't have to think here. I didn't have to worry. I didn't have to work. I just had to feel. I had to just feel warm and safe and good.

"Mmm..." he moaned out tiredly, "You gotta give me a minute to wake up before you start kissing me."

"I'm not really kissing you," I clarified, "I'm just...taking you in."

"Hmm..." he grunted, "Is that right?" I nodded and reluctantly pulled away from his form. He let me slide away slowly as I kneeled onto the bed, allowing the sheet to fall from both our bodies. My tanked rolled up right underneath my breasts and I pulled it down self-consciously as I glanced down at Justin's bare chest. His six pack was even more amazing in the moonlight and my soft belly was nothing in comparison.

"I'm gonna brush," I announced as he continued to watch me stretch. I dropped my arms to my sides as he rubbed some of the sleep from his eyes.

"Do you want me to hold your hand and take you to the bathroom?" Matthew teased. I pouted and nodded sheepishly, playing along.

"Yes, please," I said, using my best baby face. He raised a brow as I held out my hand, wiggling my fingers.

"You're sexy when you do that," he said, licking his lips as I wrinkled my nose.

"I got sleep all over my face," I pointed out and he shrugged.

"Still sexy."

"My hair looks like Medusa's," I said, pointing to my head. He laughed at the spikey wild strands.

"True, but still sexy." I rolled my eyes and climbed over him, momentarily slapping his hands away as he tried to make me straddle his waist. I laughed as he lost the fight and I trailed up the hall to use the bathroom. I did what I needed to do to get myself together and gathered up my clothes from the floor after showering. I made sure my towel was securely wrapped around me before I headed out to the hall. I bumped into Matthew halfway and he tugged on my towel as I slapped his hand away.

"You got something under there for me?" he asked and I rolled my eyes before he winked and continued toward the bathroom. I stopped to turn and watch him walk in his boxers. His back flexed with his every move and his back's tattoo clashed against his pale skin. I bit my bottom lip, knowing that I had full permission to run my hands over that fine body of his. It wasn't until he slipped into the door and shut it behind him that I let go of the breath I was holding.

I rolled my eyes at my libido before flipping on the light and dropping my clothes into the hamper. I dug through my drawer for underwear and a bra. I found a heart covered Vicky Secret bra and red boy shorts. I checked my butt out in the mirror, loving the way the boy shorts curved it. Besides, I knew Matthew liked my ass too, so I couldn't help but imagine what he'd think if he saw me in these. Of course, I wouldn't have to imagine... I could just show him.

I pondered this as I slipped a pink ribbed tank over my head and straightened it out. I grabbed a comb from my dresser and tamed my hair until I could brush it up into a ponytail. It ended up being a messy bun instead, but it was enough to pass as some type of hairdo. I found a pair of shorts and slipped them on. They were gray, but had pink lettering. It looked like I tried a little and I was satisfied with my minimal effort.

I settled on pearl earrings and turned to my laptop, slipped beneath the bed. I placed it on my dresser and turned it on, waiting for it to load. Once that ended, I started up some music. T.I.'s 'Whatever You Like' was the first song of choice. He was definitely my future husband, despite the fact that he was completely out of reach.

I was rapping along as I fixed up the bed, shaking the sheets to the beat and bobbing around happily. It was my free moment, with nobody watching me attempt to dance.

"He's tailor made for you..." I mumbled, off key and not caring a couple of minutes later, as Colbie Callet's 'Tailor Made' came through after two T.I. songs played out. I fluffed the pillows and tucked the flat sheet under the mattress. I shook the comforter out next and draped it over the bed, smoothing it out and folding it back at the ends of the pillows.

I smiled as I finished. I was just occupying my time. I knew I'd be back in that bed again. I was already feeling tired, but I knew I couldn't sleep all damn night. Night shifts messed up my sleeping habits. Matthew and I slept the entire day away after he stayed up all night until my shift was over. We barely made it to bed before we fell asleep.

"I really like this song," I heard Matthew's voice from behind me as I smoothed out the last of the wrinkles.

"It's Justin Nozuka," I smiled at him as I turned around. I probably should've kept my eyes on the bed. He was forever in a towel, damp from his shower, and sexy as hell.

"You okay?" Matthew smirked as I shut my hanging mouth and turned around, walking right into the bed. I stumbled and stubbed my baby toe.

"Fuck," I hissed, sitting on the edge of my bed and lifting my foot to rub my injured toe. I pouted as Matthew cooed.

"You okay?" he inquired walking over to where I sat. I felt his towel brush my leg, so I didn't look up. He was standing too close.

"No," I childishly frowned. He knelt down suddenly, sitting back on his legs as he gently removed my hands from my foot. I looked down at him as he concentrated on my toe, rubbing it in the tiniest circles his large hands would allow.

He gave my toe a gentle kiss before looking up at me. "Better?" I nodded dumbly as he held my gaze. "Good."

Neither one of us moved though. I could feel myself breathing a little faster as his gaze fell to my lips and down my body before he concentrated on my legs, rubbing up my calf before kissing from my knee to my thigh. I leaned back against the bed as he slowly rose, kissing up my tank covered stomach and skimming over my chest before placing his warm lips against my collarbones.

His body lined mine and his weight above me felt brand new, like I had never done this before. In a way it was. I had never had him pressed on top of me like this before. His weight was new. His skin was soft where it touched my stomach, exposed by my hiked up shirt. His kisses mashed my mouth with a delicious passion I struggled to match.

He pulled back, against my will, and yanked my tank over my head. He kissed the flesh that hung out of my bra and I was grateful I wore a push up. He seemed to enjoy himself and I enjoyed it more than I could say. I moaned it though and he grabbed me through my bra, making my entire being quiver.

My heart was pounding in my chest. I thought it would explode. Matthew kissed me again, slower this time, but with the same passion I felt before. I ran my hands over his head and pulled him closer. I never wanted to let him go.

I felt really clever.

I had outsmarted the most nosey, clingy fuck face in the world: Matthew.

How, might you ask? Well, I had to make up an excuse.

Of couse it's not that easy with the little annoying man.

Then I had to whine and get naggy.

Then the whining back.

And the sigh.

Had to add a bit of a sexual twinge in my voice, just so he'd get a bit of a hint as to what was going to go down. The fucker still managed to complain.

And he kept it. I called the house periodically to make sure he'd answer. I was glad I didn't have caller I.D. because he had somehow memorized the hospital number and since I was calling from Clarissa's phone, he'd be on my ass with a million and one questions.

I had just hung up the phone with him and after all his whining, I was still excited. The smile wouldn't leave my face and I decided I didn't mind it there. I didn't know if it was from the thought of being almost done or if all this chocolate was the reason why I so awake and alive, but I was grateful. It was almost nine and the kitchen was a mess. Clarissa was flipping through her Oprah magazine, unfazed by my hurricane-like affect on her poor kitchen.

"Girl, are you done yet?" she finally spoke as I smoothed over the last few layers of homemade fudge icing over the three layer cake I just created. I nodded and sucked the extra chocolate off my finger tips.

"Hells yes," I sighed in relief. "It's so good I don't even want to give it to the boy."

"Don't you mean your man?" she teased and a part of me regreted telling her that Matt and I were kind of, sort of dating. She was too excited about the news, but swore she wouldn't say a word.

"Shut up, woman," I said, picking up the glass plate the masterpiece was sitting on and very carefully moving over to the counter, the only clean counter, Clarissa was leaning on. She looked down at the chocolate goodness and back at me with an approving nod.

"It looks delicious," she commented. "You sure I can't come over?" I laughed lightly.

"Not tonight," I said, raising a brow in a suggestive manner. She howled with laughter.

"So I'm guessing this cake isn't the only chocolate Matt's eating..." I laughed this time as she joined me. I playfully shoved her and shook my head.

"You are bad," I smiled, "But you're not lying."

"Oh!" she squealed with delight, "I'm so happy for you." I turned to the mess of a kitchen and thought about where to start.

"Yeah... Me too." I was happy for me because I was genuinely happy. There wasn't a sad bone in my body in that moment and I was feeling strange about it. It's been a long time since I felt like this. Happiness used to be so rare, and as corny as it sounds, Matthew's presence has made it a day to day thing. Especially since that glorious night four days ago... Man, oh, man. Words could not describe my pleasure. It was almost painful because it was so damn good. The boy didn't remember his name, but he sure remembered his stroke. When Clarissa lightly asked if he was good in bed since she had never been with a white guy, she laughed at my speechless reaction. I opened my mouth to speak and nothing came out but a nostaglic sigh. It was enough for her to understand where I was going with my answer and she mumbled something along the lines of needing to find a white man on the side.

Clarissa knew full well that would never happen. Her husband would kill a man for looking at her too long and too lingering. They've been married for 15 years. Since she was 19 and he was 21. I thought she was as crazy as her parents believed, but she told me she has never met a better man. Besides, she was carrying his child and it made it easier for the family to believe they were already married before the child was conceived. And it's been 15 long years, not to mention the years they knew each other in grade school and high school. They were pretty well matched up since day one. I was envious. Clarissa was ten years my senior, but she was younger than me in her stress-free way of life and her openess and faith. I wish I could be her sometimes and live and love the way she does. If I were her and somebody asked me to use my kitchen and tools to make a cake for a boy they never even tried to properly introduce them to, my answer would be a straight up no. Yet, she was so estatic about the idea that she helped me make the icing and didn't complain once.

"This boy must really be something," Clarissa said as she began to soap up the pile of dishes in the sink. I was gathering up egg shells and other garbage; running around the kitchen like a chicken with its head cut off.

"Who?" I asked, distracted by all the mess.

"Matthew, fool," she said smartly, reminding me of my own smart ass mouth. I rolled my eyes the way Matthew always did when I called him a fool.

"I guess," I shrugged, "He's really sweet."

"Sugar is sweet," Clarissa told me, "That boy is something." The emphasis on her words bothered me for a moment, but I continued to gather trash without a word to her. I figured the conversation was over if neither of us spoke. I was doing pretty good for myself, all the trash removed and tied away outside, and now scrubbing down the counter and table tops, before she said something again. "How serious are you two?"

I paused my movements as I looked back at her. "What do you mean?"

"I mean... Is he your boyfriend?" I rolled my eyes and turned back to my cleaning.

"I thought you established he was 'my man'," I mocked and she sprinkled water from her fingertips at me playfully as I neared her. I wiped the water from my cheek with the back of my hand and cracked a smile.

"Don't get smart, child," she scolded like my mother would, "I want you to tell me if I'm right." I shrugged.

"Clare, I really don't know," I told her honestly, "We didn't exactly having the normal three dates thing. It all kinda just... happened." She gave me a thoughtful nod before turning back to the dishes.

"Well, do you love him?" I dropped my cleaning rag and turned my head so fast I almost go whip lash."

"What?" I asked like she lost her rabbit ass mind.

"I said do you love him." She repeated it firmly, standing by her perposterous inquiry. I shook my head vigorously.

"Absolutely not," I denied, feeling my walls building up around me. "I barely know this guy."

"He lives with you," she argued.

"So what?" I shot back. "Clarissa, it's been a month."

"Over a month actually. Probably two, right?"

"Don't give me that," I shook my head. "You're ridiculous."

"Love has no time frame, honey," Clarissa cooed and I picked up my rag and kept on scrubbing. "Look, you're a smart woman, Sash. I know you're not gonna fall in love with any old guy."

"Thank you," I said, never turning around, "I'm glad you have at least an inkling about who I am."

"Yes, I do," she assured, "But I also know that you're not gonna bake a cake for a man you don't love." I rolled my eyes to the heavens.

"Clarissa, it's a cake and it's his birthday, for goodness sake. Isn't it tradition to give someone a cake on their got damn birthday?"

"You could've just bought him one," she said, "Would've been a lot of easier and impersonal."

"I care about Matthew, okay? If something happened to him, I'd be really upset, but I am not in love with him. That's crazy talk and you know it." I angrily scrubbed every counter I could get my hands on, even what I already did. "I'm good enough friends with him to not give him something that impersonal."

"You slaved over that cake all evening, ya know," she told me, "You cooked up this scheme and went completely out of your way just to surprise him and make him happy. And I'm pretty sure that little something-something you've got in that Victoria's Secret bag you got sitting on my living room coffee table wasn't cheap."

The lacy babydoll nightie was forty of my hard earned dollars, but I knew that Matthew would make it worth every penny. That was lust; not love.

"I'm regretting telling you anything," I told her bitterly and I meant it. "This is exactly why people should keep their business personal because folks who don't know anything about it run around insinuatin' things that aren't happening and never will happen."

"Oh, so you're Sylvia Brown with your psychic skills. You see that you'll never love him. God forbid if you're in love with a man who makes you lunch at two in the morning or gives it to you so good you can't even speak about."

"You are a drama queen," I concluded, blowing her off as I stopped scrubbing and walked over to the sink to rinse off my rag. Clarissa backed away from me to give me some space at the sink, but she was burning a hole in the side of my head.

"In the last two years since that boy left you, I have never seen you glow like this," she told me seriously and I squeezed the rag tightly, letting out all of the liquid it absorbed. "You can be scared, Sash. I can understand-" I couldn't let her finish her sentence, so I raised my hand to silence her.

"Clarissa, please," I huffed. "I'm not scared. I'm not glowing. I'm happy, yes. Matthew makes me happy. I can admit that. I can admit that I care about him and I think about him more times a day than I can actually count, but that doesn't make it love. I just really like him. I haven't felt this way about any guy in a while, so you're just not used to seeing me like this. You're misunderstanding the situation."

"Sasheirah," she called gently and I sighed. "You arguing with me this much is only proving me right."

"How so?"

"You always get defensive when somebody's onto something when it comes to you," she explained as I folded my arms over my chest.

"You really don't know me that well Clarissa," I informed the older woman with narrowed eyes. She smiled to herself smugly, as if she knew I was lying my ass off. I guess I was. If I had anything close to a best friend, it was Clarissa. She was my mentor at work and the easiest person to talk to. She's basically my closest female friend in the longest time and I knew I'd be a tenth more crazy if she wasn't around to keep me together.

"Okay, Ms. Hanes," she smirked, "Or should I say Mrs... Wait, what is Matthew's last name?" I stiffened at the question and was thankful I had bent down to pick up a fallen paper towel.

"It's...Roberts." I cringed, waiting for her to smell the bullshit, but she hummed thoughtfully instead.

"Matthew Roberts," she wondered, "That is a really nice name. Sashierah Roberts... Has a ring to it, right?" I rolled my eyes, facing her fully now.

"Sashierah Hanes is just fine."

"Not as fine as Matthew," she chuckled as I laughed and waved her off.

"I'm done with this conversation." I grabbed the bowl of extra frosting and turned back to her. "Want this or can I take it home?"

"Depends..." she trailed off and I raised a brow.

"On what?" I asked and she smiled to herself.

"Where are you using it? In the kitchen or in the bedroom?"

"Oh. My. God." I raised my hands to cover my ears as we laughed. "No more. Clarissa. No more! My ears can't take another dirty joke."

"Shut up, child," she laughed again, grabbing the bowl and walking over to the fridge, "But are you sure you don't want this?" I paused and thought about all the places I could put that chocolate frosting on Matthew's vanilla skin, but then I thought about my white sheets and icing being in places that frosting should never venture.

"No, I'm okay." Clarissa shrugged and placed the bowl into the fridge.

"More for me and the hubby then." I wrinkled my nose at the images involuntarily flashing through my mind.

"TMI, Clare," I whined, "TMI."

===================================

Twenty-three minutes later, I was climbing out of my car. It was half past ten, give or take a few, and I was carefully taking the stairs up to my front door. I balanced the cake in one hand and juggled the keys in the other. I had to rush inside because I was running late in my own game plan. I had called Matthew twenty minutes ago and asked that he shower and make the bed for me. He complained, but said he'd oblige just to make me happy. I figured it was really to make me shut up since I was nagging him so much to do it.

Anyway, I had to get in the house, change, and light up his candles before he discovered I was home. I figured I was doing okay for myself since I was now in the house and could hear the shower running. I was careful to be quiet, but I'm sure he couldn't hear me over his own singing. It was 'Tailor Made' by Colbie Callet tonight. He was listening to my playlist non-stop these days and I always got the pleasure of hearing him belting out tunes in his own special way. His versions were always a bit more cheerful than the originals and it made me smile. He was my own personal jukebox.

I placed the cake on the kitchen table when I slid in, removing the glass cover and adjusting the tipping candles upright. The Victoria's Secret bag was held firmly in my hand as I ran down the basement steps and changed into my lacy babydoll ensemble before finding one of my oversized shirts and pulling it over it.

I cursed to myself as I scrambled to unhook and remove my bra. It was off in a flash before I ran up the steps and back into the kitchen. I grabbed a candle from the cake and skipped to the stove to light it up. I returned to the cake and lit up every candle I could. The cake was glowing and the red cherries and whipped cream that decorated the top and bottom edges reflected the flickers of candle light.

"Sash?" I heard Matthew call from the living room and I felt myself grow with excitement.

"In the kitchen!" I called back, pulling at the hem of my t-shirt and bumping my newly curled hair. I picked up the cake and held it steady as his footsteps neared. My smile was spreading across my face as my words got stuck in my throat.

"What-"

"Happy Birthday!" I interrupted excitedly and Matthew's face broke out into a shocked, but pleased smile.

"Aw, babe," he cooed, slowly approaching me, "You bought me a cake!"

"I made it," I corrected proudly and he raised an impressed brow.

"Really?" I nodded. "That was too sweet of you." He took the cake from me and held it in his much bigger and sturdier hands.

"Well, make a wish and blow out the candles," I encouraged. He grinned up at me before blowing out the candles. "That quick?" I asked curiously and he shrugged as he placed the cake on the table behind me. I took in the scent of his soapy skin as he leaned over me. He kissed my forehead before taking my hands as he stood up straight a second later.

"I don't really have much else to wish for," he told me softly and as I stared up to his eyes, Clarissa words, rather word, boomed through my head.

"You could've wished for your wallet back," I suggested jokingly, trying to lighten the mood.

"Damn it, I didn't even think of that," Matthew joked back as I subtly slipped my hands from his and scurried over to the dish holder by my sink. I searched for a knife and found a good enough one before grabbing two plates.

"Well, too late now," I told him as I placed the items onto the table, "Your wish is over and done with."

"It hasn't happened yet though, so I can take it back, right?"

"There isn't a handbook on birthday cake wishes, my friend," I said sarcastically as I began to cut a slice of cake for him. Matthew removed each candle and sucked the frosting off of the ends before laying them on the table in an unneccessarily straight row. "What did you wish for anyway?" He scoffed and took his piece of cake from my hands.

"I can't tell you that," he whined, "It won't come true." I rolled my eyes, but didn't say anything. He was gone anyway, off to the sink to grab forks I forgot before opening the fridge, grabbing the gallon of 2%, and pouring two glasses of milk.

He placed one in front of me with a fork on top before we both took our seats and began chowing down on the cake. I had a piece and a half while Matt opted for two and half. He told me a million times over that my cake was delicious and I told him a million and one times over to shut up. I think he liked it though. Some sick little part of him was sadistic enough to get pleasure from my name calling and badgering. I could never understand him sometimes.

When I was done clearing the table, Matthew had long made his way upstairs to get comfortable. I promised to finish everything up down here since he was the birthday boy and I told him he had a little less than an hour left to milk me of my kindness. He promised to 'milk me alright' and I rolled my eyes, but knew that once I made it upstairs, he surely would.

Maybe that's why my stomach was so full of butterflies as I crept up the stairs and through the dark hall illuminated at the end where my bedroom lights peaked through the cracked door. I quietly slipped inside and Matthew was sitting on the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees and staring into space with a frump face.

"You okay?" I asked and he blinked before he looked at me.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he shrugged off nonchalantly and I wasn't the least bit convinced.

"Justin... " I nagged with a warning tone and he sighed and rolled his eyes.

"I was just...thinking about... stuff and I remembered some stuff and I was just trying to... get names and shit in order." This time, my face was frump and he shook his head. "That's exactly what I was trying to avoid."

"What?" I asked, freigning innocence and he stood and walked over to me, towering above my shortness with ease.

"That face," he said, "That sad, pouting, cute face."

"What did I say about that awful word?" I scolded and he smirked down at me.

"You're cute and you're really gonna have to accept that," he said, brushing his hand against my cheek. "At any rate, thank you. The cake was awesome and much appreciated." I nodded and waved him off.

"You're welcome, for the billionth time," I told him exasperated. "You'd think I gave you a kidney or something. It was just cake."

"It's not just cake," he argued, "You made me that cake from scratch and gave it to me for my birthday. I really do appreciate you doing that on top of everything else you do for me daily." I rolled my eyes.

"Matt, don't even worry about that stuff, you're not a stranger any more, you're-" I cut myself off, not knowing what I was going to call him, if anything. He waited with an expectant look and then sighed when I didn't answer.

"Still haven't figured that out yet, huh?" he asked and I shrugged.

"Well, we're more than friends, but we're not married, so I guess that's something."

"That's a relationship; a boyfriend-girlfriend relationship."

"Or friends with benefits," I offered. He raised a brow, unconvinced.

"Those 'benefits' came much later, which defeats the whole purpose of friends with benefits because it's suppose to be more about benefits than friendship and I happen to think we've got a stronger foundation than that."

"Are you trying to say the sex isn't good?" I asked, faking offense as he quickly tried to correct himself.

"No, not at all," he assured, "Baby, you are... amazing. Seriously. I'm just saying that before the amazing sex, there was just the amazing you and I thing we had going. Despite the bickering, we're pretty damn good together, right?" My bottom lip protruded outword and I did not like the way this conversation was going.

"How about you open your gift?" I wanted to distract him with a more appealing topic and it worked all too well. He was practically jumping up and down when I said gift and I was smiling again.

"Where is it?" he asked and I backed away from him and twirled around.

"You're looking at it." He raised a brow when I stopped spinning and smiled.

"Really?" he asked, unimpressed and I reached over and slapped his ungrateful arm.

"What do you mean 'really'?" I whined and he rubbed his injured arm and chuckled.

"I meant... YAY!" I glared at him.

"Forget it," I grumbled as he laughed and gently held my shoulders to keep me from going anywhere.

"Baby, I will gladly unwrap you," he said gently.

"Opportunity's lost now," I teased, crossing my arms over my chest, "Sorry, Bud."

He gave me a bored look. "Don't make me attack you."

"That's called a threat and the action you just threatened is called rape," I told him with false seriousness and he grabbed my waist and pulled me flush against him. I gasped at the sudden movement and he barely cracked a smile.

"It's not rape if you want it," he said smoothly and I forgot why I was playing hard to get for a moment.

"Fine, just for your birthday," I breathed out as he loosened his grip. "But you still have to unwrap me." I pulled away completely, lifting my arms straight up and ready to have my top removed. Matthew waited for a moment and then walked up and gripped the hem of my oversized t-shirt. He pulled it up slowly and I never missed his hands brushing accidently against my body.

I heard him breathe in deep when he took me all in and tossed my shirt into the hamper carelessly.

"Wow," he said simply before pulling up the lacey strap of my nightie sliding down my shoulder, "Wow."

"Do you like it?" I asked, twirling around slowly to give a bit of a show.

"Like it?" he asked, "I love it." I wanted to groan at the word, but instead I slauntered up against him and draped an arm around his waist before caressing his cheek.

"Don't tell me, baby," I said softly, doing my best to be a seductress despite the bit of foolishness I felt, "Show me." Matthew had this way of pausing before attacking suddenly, so when he grabbed my thighs, lifted me up around his waist, spun around and then dropped me onto the bed in what felt like a second, I was left catching my breath as I giggled with excitement.

"Oh, you can laugh now, girl," he said with a smirk, "You won't think I'm a joke soon." He was fumbling to get undressed and I was wondering why.

"Where's the fire?" I asked and he slowed a bit as he untied the drawstring of his sweats.

"I'm gonna make you come at least five times before midnight," he said simply and I raised a brow.

"Matthew, please," I glanced at the clock, "That's in less than forty minutes."

"Is that doubt?" he inquired and I shook my head.

"I'm just trying to tell you that I don't come easy," I shrugged, "Took me almost twenty minutes to do it the first time with you. And that's after two years of forced celibancy." He was down to his boxers and giving me a look with his hands placed on his hips.

"Shut up," he said and I raised a brow.

"Excuse me?" I asked, not sure why he was looking so mad. I was just being honest.

"I said shut up," he repeated as he laid over me and roughly pinned my hands above my head. "You talk too much sometimes."

"Are you trying to bruise me 'cause it might be working." I strained too look up at his grip on my wrists.

"It doesn't hurt," he argued, but he loosened up his hold anyway, "Just don't speak again unless you're calling my name, baby."

"You're getting a bit cocky here," I told him distastefully, "I don't like it."

"Well, you bruised my ego and I gotta get it back together, so stop talking... I only got about a half hour now."

"It's okay if you can't do it," I assured, "You're still amazing."

"I'm determined," he smiled, "Don't worry, I got you." I shrugged as best I could before he kissed me tenderly, biting on my bottom lip before his mouth trailed lower, caressing my neck with his tongue. I was already wet, secretly turned on by his agressiveness. I laid there and enjoyed the feel, trying my best to intesify the sensations he was causing with memories of our previous nights. I was trying to help him out here, not wanting him to be ego bruised if he failed. I don't know where all this came from, this sudden need to please me so much in such a short amount of time. It was pretty ridiculous.

Matthew was always fairly slow with sex. He liked to take his time and tease, to the point where I begged him shamelessly to stop the torture and fuck me before I had a heart attack. That didn't really cause him to hurry, if anything he moved slower. It was nice that way. It was nice now too. He didn't seem to be quickening his pace. He seemed to have lingering kisses as always. I sighed when he licked the skin around my navel after pulling up my nightie to expose my flesh.

He sunk lower, kissing my outer thighs before moving inward. I felt him nibble over me lightly through my underwear and I licked my lips, biting down in anticipation as he slowly slipped down my thong panties. I raised my hips to assist him and he looked down at me as I did so. He held my gaze for just a moment before he focused on my spreading legs. He dipped his head down and kissed me slowly along the edges of my wet lips. My thighs shook with tension as he slipped his tongue inside and over my clit in purposeful circular motions. I felt myself twitch a few seconds later and he moved his tongue faster around me before he sucked my pearl into his mouth.

My hands found his head and I pulled him closer to me, wanting to feel him as much as possible as he sucked and licked and bit down on my sensitive flesh. I came after a moment and he smirked.

"One down," he said, licking his lips. I rolled my eyes, but smiled.

"Took you forever," I teased and he raised brow.

"I'll do better next time, baby," he promised, running his fingers through my folds a few times, starting me up again before I barely finished. "Much better." He punctuated his sentence by slipping his fingers inside of me. I responded with a moan.

He was definitely doing better. Much, much better.

=======================================

Damn, if I wasn't in love with him, I was for damn sure in love with his mouth, hands, dick, eyes, nose, mouth... Yes, that's twice. How could I not be? He knew how to use them all in his entire seduction/sex process. I easily succombed to them without a thought to at least try to hold off. It would be just a losing battle. I don't know why I questioned the boy, if he wanted me to come, I'd come. I knew that much and should have just admitted such.

I came a total of six and half times. Yes, a half. Despite Matt's arguing, I called it a half since I temporary assisted him by rubbing my clit while he took me from behind. He still discredits that fact, claiming that if he weren't stroking so well, I wouldn't have been turned on enough to touch myself, so since he was the reason behind the instinct, he had full credit to the result.

Whatever.

He could've told me the sky was pink and the moon was blue and I would've told him yes just to end the argument. Matthew had a thing for having the last word. He was quiet now though, snuggled comfortably beneath my arm, face against my chest all prickly with stubble and warm. He was the most peaceful looking sleeper ever. It was like he never got enough sleep and it was just the most relieving thing in the world to lay down and just close his eyes... I could definitely understand that fact. I didn't spend half as much time in bed as I do now. Matthew's big blue eyes and bright smile are too tempting to pass up for more hours at work. I always used to take any shift they'd give me on a day off; too frustrated with the quiet of my home. Now, they barely think to ask me for help. It's usually after two or three people have already been asked.

I ran my hand over his cheek and he sighed and moved a little closer. I smiled to myself. I loved that he loved my touch. He always snuggled into me or pressed me against him. He always wanted some part of my body on his. It wasn't always sexual either. Sometimes he'd just take my hand, kiss it, and run his lips over it. I always teased him about being a freak, but I always saw the genuine adoration he had for me.

It was frightening, to say the least, to know that somebody adored you. It made you adore them back despite the growing anxiousness that filled your gut. My mind was anticipating the worst, but my heart... My heart had a mind of its own. I almost cringed at how stupid I sounded, even to myself. It was just about two months and this is where I'm at. After all my efforts to build walls and guards, he comes along and fucks it up in two months.

I could just smack him for it.

But I won't.

I could never mess up that face. That face that I love.

I could never cause Matthew pain.

That man that I love.

The words left my thoughts and they tasted sweet in my mind, but at the same time forbidden, almost dirty. I knew I could never say them out loud. Not now. I had to think it through. Infactuation was as close to love as you could get. Maybe I was just infactuated. Maybe I didn't actually love Matthew.

I paused.

That thought most definitely didn't seem right. Of course I love Matthew... as a friend, for sure, but are we even friends? How can you love somebody as a friend and be 'dating' them, and not be in love with them? What the hell is the difference?

Maybe I should ask Clarissa...But I already knew what she'd say. Girl, you love that damn boy! Stop frontin', get married, and have some babies! I shook my head, it was ridiculous and very Clarissa like. She was always talking about marriage and babies. You'd think she wasn't married with kids the way she often fantasized about them and drove everybody in the hospital crazy with her schemes to hook people up and make some babies.

I need more friends.

"I love these..." I jumped at the word, almost knocking over my glass of orange juice in the process. Matthew came up behind me in time to swiftly grab the cup before it tipped off the edge of the kitchen table. I placed my hands in my lap and looked down at my half eaten eggs.

"Love what?" I managed to ask in a normal voice as he remained behind me. I waited until I felt his lips press against the back of my neck before grazing my right ear. I closed my eyes and bit on my bottom lip. I loved it when he was that close to me. It made me shiver.

"I love..." he trailed off and I grew anxious. He didn't know, did he? He couldn't possibly suspect that... "...these animal crackers." He chuckled into my ear and pulled away from me, walking over to the other side of the table to sit across from me. I opened my eyes and stared down at my plate again. "That's pretty grade school, right? Munchin' on some good ass animal crackers." I could hear him smacking on those cookies like it was the last supper, so I knew he was genuinely poking fun at himself and paused before he finished his sentence because he was worried that I'd call him a child for admitting to like animal crackers so much. I was logical enough to know all that, but my heart still stung, almost like he had just made a cruel joke. I was hoping so bad for him to say he loves me, just so I don't have to be the one. Just so I wouldn't feel half as stupid as I do now.

"I gotta go," I said more to myself.

"But you haven't even finished your breakfast," Matthew argued, "You didn't even touch your bacon." That is true. I do love bacon. I glanced up at Matthew and he creased his brow in worry. "What's wrong?" I shrugged and said what I always did.

"I'm just tired," I sighed, picking up a slice of bacon and biting into it just to make him happy.

"Sorry," he apologized, "I won't keep you up next time you have to get up this early."

"Shut up," I dismissed him quickly as I rolled my eyes. He laughed lightly.

"It's true though..." he smiled to himself, "I knew you had to get up, but I just can't seem to keep my hands off of you." He winked for affect and I shook my head, but smiled anyway.

"You can have this," I said, pushing my plate down to him. I stood and smoothed the wrinkles in my purple scrubs. "I'll call you later on. Since it's early... I guess we can have lunch together-"

"Yes!" Matt cheered and I giggled at his enthusiasm.

"But I'm picking you up and dropping you off. Got it?" He pouted, but nodded his head.

"Got it." I pushed my chair in and Matthew stood and did the same. "Do you want me to make you anything in particular? We still got chicken alfredo from last night. Want that?" We walked out of the kitchen, holding hands like we were really going somewhere. I gave his fingers a squeeze and I loved that he squeezed mine back.

"Actually, that does sound good," I told him, "We can get some Frosty's or something for a little dessert too." Matthew let go of my hand and bent down to his knees in front of me, grabbing my Converse Chucks and adjusting them onto my feet. I smiled to myself as he tied each shoe up and made sure the tongue was straight before pulling my pant leg over them. I ran my hand over his head and down the side of his face. He smiled and stood tall, hugging me around my waist before leaning his forehead against mine.

"You have the most wonderful day at work and I'll see you at lunch." I nodded before leaning up to capture his lips with mine. They were soft and tasted sweet like the animal crackers he had been eating.

"I'll call you," I said again after we pulled apart. He gave me one last bear hug and a peck before I headed out the door. The moment I was outside, my chest ached with a longing for a release. I wanted to be able to tell him 'I love you' all nice and breezy at the end of the conversation, but instead I said 'I'll call you' like we didn't already establish that. I frowned and made my way up the block to my car. I could not find parking in front of the house last night. Apparently neighbors were celebrating a birthday or something and every family member showed up for cake and ice cream.

I rolled my eyes at the thought and finally made my way into my Buick's interior. The car was cold everywhere, but I let out a sigh of relief. I now found solace in going to work for hours and hours because Matthew was as far away from me as possible. I didn't want to be around him, getting all googly-eyed and mesmerized by his presence. I didn't need more reasons to love him. As if him just existing wasn't enough, he just loves being sweet as sugar before I leave the house everyday for work. Kissing and hugging and wishing for me to have a great day...Calling whenever I'm working to tell me he misses me and hopes I get home safely.

How dare he be such a wonderful man. He has a lot of nerves just pretending to be this outstanding guy all of a sudden. He was still annoying, but he even got less annoying these last few days. I'm sure it's because my birthday is coming up in two days (which Matthew seems more excited about than me). But I don't know... it seems like he knows and wants to torture me with all his goodness while holding back the sweetest thing he could ever say or do....And that's love me too.

Not that he hates me. I know he cares. But at the same time... Is it just because I'm around? I've beaten myself down over the last few days, saying that I'm an idiot because I fell for a guy who's only around because he has no place else to go. Shit, I was easy. I feed and clothed him. I slept with him. I love him now. That boy has me in the palm of his beautiful, strong hands and he knows it.

The bastard.

Oh, who am I kidding? I'm not even mad. I'm just so... ugh. I'm just frustrated that I don't have as much of an affect on him. He doesn't seem to be falling apart over me. Not that I've been giving away many clues... Other than my sporactic clumsiness. Jumping. Knocking things over. Screaming when he appears out of nowhere because I'm so deep in my thoughts about him that I don't even notice he walks into the room.

Something must be wrong with me. I haven't felt this crazy since tenth grade when I had that a major crush on Dennis King, varsity basketball star, completely out of my league, and my Spanish II partner who called me smart when I helped him write his essay on his family vacation to Virginia for some random class project. I dreamt of him long after he graduated and I was teased mercilessly by friends until I got over it senior year of high school.

I guess I've always been a little infactuated weirdo. You need to get on that, I thought as I arrived at work and parked. I skipped past Clarissa's lobby desk and she gave me a small nod.

"Mornin'," I greeted and she handed me my chart before I could make it to the lounge to hang up my coat. "Damn, Clare."

"Don't damn me," she scolded, "We're a little busy today. There was shooting going around yesterday. Three suspects, three wounded victims." My interest perked as I skimmed through my chart. Six males, ranging from age 19 to almost 41. I rolled my eyes. What the hell is wrong with people these days trying to live a thug life for no damn reason.

"What happened?" I asked as I shut the manilia folder and looked up at Clare. She shrugged.

"I think somebody walked up to those fake thug life boys and they got all hype and decided it was time to shoot. The victims shot back in self-defense, I think. It's not really clear. Melissa tried to flirt with the cop for info, but he wasn't really having that." I laughed at the thought. Melissa could be quite the hoebag when she wanted to be.

"Well, she always loved men in uniforms," I said, "Must've bruised her ego when he wasn't giving it up."

"You know it did," Clarissa agreed before getting back to business, "Now, they're all in the ER, but the injuries of the victims are not that bad. Once the bullets are removed, they'll be roomed for overnight stay and will probably check out in the morning." I nodded as I followed along. "You have to assign rooms. Get them in the same general area."

"What about the thug life crew?" I asked and she shook her head.

"I have to do it," she sighed, "Damn cops want their rooms on lockdown and apparently I'm the only one capable of giving them rooms." She rolled her eyes and I smiled at her sympathetically.

"Oh, it's okay, girl," I cooed, "Have fun!" I smiled and turned away towards the lounge to put my crap away. I almost turned around to leave when I saw Shannon standing by her locker, across from mine. Her hair was still a bushell of curls and she looked more irritating than usual. I sighed and made my way to locker without saying a word.

"Hello to you too," Shannon bitched from behind me and I pursed my lips to keep myself from saying what I really wanted to say. "How's Matthew?" I angrily pulled my locker open after running through the combination.

"He's fantastic," I smirked to myself. "Practically brand new."

"Mmm..." she grunted. "I bet he's very... happy with you."

"Yeah, he is," I confirmed, stuffing my coat into the tiny space and placing my purse on top of it.

"I must confess that I'm slightly jealous," Shannon spoke slowly as I shut the locker and clamped the lock closed.

"Of what?"

"Of you and Matthew..." I turned to face her and she was leaning comfortably against the metal lockers and smiling. "I mean, I've seen that man naked once and I can't get it out of my mind and you get it every night? How could I not envy you?" I felt a pang of anger shoot through my veins at the mention of her seeing him naked and I knew that she was satisfied by the narrowing of my eyes. I breathed for a moment, remembering that she was in fact quite jealous because I did get that fine ass of Matthew's every night, whenever and however I wanted. I smiled.

"It's okay, Shannon," I cooed mockingly, "Don't lose too much sleep over it. I'm sure you'll get yours soon." Oh yeah, she's gonna get hers alright. She seriously has one more time before I'm backhanding her smartass.

"Anyway," she dismissed with a frown, "You hear about the shooting last night?"

"Yeah, I'm on room finding duty," I informed her as I walked over to the coffee counter to pour myself a cup.

"Well, I get to treat the victims," she stated proudly and with my back to her, I was free to roll my eyes and soundlessly mock her.

"Congratulations," I told her before I sipped my creamy coffee creation. "I'll get you a sticker later."

"Oh, it's okay, Sash," she teased, "Don't lose too much sleep over room finding duty. I'm sure you'll get a real patient soon."

"You're about to go from treating victims to being one, Shannon," I stated firmly, cutting my eyes in her direction, "You change bed pans like the rest of us and you assign rooms like the rest of us."

"You're way too sensitive, Sasheirah," she pouted like she felt bad for me, "That anger isn't going to get you far."

"Goodbye, Shannon," I said, grabbing my cup of coffee and turning to exit the room. I cursed underneath my breath the entire way from the lounge to the fifth floor. I checked the halls and found three rooms that were next to and across from each other. I figured that was good enough for now and reserved the rooms. I paged Carol to sterilize each room and headed downstairs to ER. Dr. Rochelle pointing the way to the victims I just had to see.

There were only two in the room. Both of them were black males, on was huge, in height and weight, and the other one was tall, but muscular. They each had bandaged arms and the muscular one had a bandage on his leg. They were talking amongst themselves until I came into the room. I hesistated my steps when they both looked up and stared at me. I cleared my throat, an awkward habit I adopted from Matthew, before walking over to the ends of their beds and receiving the their charts.

"Mike?" I called, looking up at the big man to my left. He nodded. "And Trey?" The muscular one nodded as well and I read over their vitals and everything seemed to be fine. "How are you guys feeling?"

"Fine," Mike spoke with gruff voice.

"The drugs are definitely kicking in," Trey added with a smile that was bright and straight. Their whiteness clashed against his dark brown skin, but was beautiful. I couldn't help but smile back and nod.

"I know the the feeling," I joked and they both chuckled lightly. "Some crazy stuff you guys were in last night. Y'all are the talk of the hospital."

"I'm sure," Trey nodded, "It wasn't suppose to be that big of a deal. All we did was ask them a question."

"That's all it takes these days," I said sadly, "I'm so glad you guys are okay."

"So are we," Mike laughed lightly, "That boy better be grateful that we love him enough to get shot. I want a raise now."

Trey laughed, "I know. The moment we're back home, I'm demanding a paid vacation." I tried to smile along, but I had no idea what was going on who they were referring to.

"Are you talking about your friend?" I asked, "He's still in surgery, right?" They both grew sad and quiet.

"He's so stubborn," Mike sadly shook his head, "We told him to stay in the car."

"Yes, we did," Trey agreed. "You know he never listens."

"I swear, there must've been something in the water because they're all the same." Mike shook his head again before finally taking notice of my existance. "I'm sorry, Ma, are you suppose to take us upstairs now or do we need to get some more work done?"

"I'm just taking you boys upstairs," I informed him just my coworker Taylor walked in. He wore green scrubs that made his green eyes stand out more. His smile was bright and wide, as usual, and I found him adorable in all his pride. He was the newest member to our team and he was certainly happy to be here.

"I'm sorry I'm late," he apologized to me, "I'm Taylor." He waved and the two men nodded their heads.

"That's Mike and that's Trey," I pointed out, "And you're not late, Tay. You're actually right on time." He beamed with more pride. "You take Mr. Mike there and I'll grab Trey. We're going up to the fifth floor." Taylor and I went to work, taking the brakes from the bed wheels and detaching and reattaching cords and tubes. It took about a second and I stopped to help Taylor with his stubbling hands before we moved up the ER hall and to the elevators. We chatted aimlessly until we reached the floor and rode up the hall in silence.

"Do we share a room?" Trey asked and I shook my head.

"Nope, no sharing," I informed him.

"Good, I'm sick of looking at this dude," he joked and Mike rolled his eyes as Taylor and I snickered. We then went our separate ways as I slipped into Trey's room and Taylor slipped into Mike's. I shut the door behind me after I pushed his bed in and looked up at me by bending his neck in an awkward position. "How long you've been a nurse here?" I shrugged, pushing him over to the IV stands and monitors.

"Couple of years," I told him, "I'd hate to count them. It'll make me feel old."

"You are not old," Trey argued lightly, "You can't be over... twenty-five." I smirked.

"You stalking me?" I joked he smiled brightly.

"Not at all," he assured, "I'm just so used to being around younger people that I can guess fairly well."

"And how old are you, gramps?" I smirked, thinking about Matthew and all the times I made fun of his cane.

"Guess," he challenged as I clamped down his bed's brakes and connected him to the monitoring devices behind him.

"Umm..." I narrowed my eyes in deep concentration. "Thirty." He laughed out loud, his beautiful smile shining in the sun filled room.

"Thank you, but no," he informed. "Thirty? Really?"

"Yes, really, but if not, what?" I asked, genuinely intrigued.

"Forty-one." I almost choked on air.

"Bullshit," I argued, connecting hanging up his IV bags. "I thought thirty was pushing it."

"I keep myself in good shape," he smiled warmly, "I had my children pretty late and I'd like to see them grow up, ya know?" I nodded my head, suddenly feeling guilty about that bacon I had this morning and all the mornings before that. I sucked in my gut a little self-consciously and patted his arm softly.

"I'm gonna go check up on your friend," I told him as he nodded and settled back comfortably against his pillows. I covered him with his sheets and left the room, sighing to myself once I got out into the hall and shut the door behind me. The moment alone was brief when Taylor slipped out of the room quietly and smiled at me.

"He's knocked out," he chuckled and I smiled.

"I think Mr. Trey's about done too," I informed him, making my way down the hall with him following alongside of me.

"That's crazy though," he said, "They all got shot like that... They could've died." I nodded my head sadly at the realization.

"Trey has kids too," I said and Taylor nodded his head.

"So does Mike," he shook his head, "I swear, people these days don't think. They are fathers and brothers and husbands and best friends... I mean, people always mean something to somebody, ya know? And just like that, they're gone." My stomach tightened as I imagined not walking that fateful day down that crappy one way street after my crappy car broke down in the crappy snowy weather. I could not imagine what I would now do if Matthew died from his beating or froze to death. I could not imagine what frightened me about his presence since day one. Maybe a part of me somehow knew I'd fall too hard too soon and would rather had run away and let him be than stop and risk heartache.

"Yeah, but they made it," I said more enthusiastically, "They're not gone."

"True, but a near death experience always puts things in perspective, ya know? Makes you say sorry when you should and 'I love you' whenever you want. Everybody starts doing that 'live everyday like it's your last thing as seriously as possible. Especially when they think 'man, this is it.'" I nodded and listened, but my mind drifted over to Matthew as expected. He was usually what I was thinking about on a daily basis. "Anyway, I'm gonna go grab some lunch. You eating?" I shook my head.

"I think I'll wait another hour or something," I informed him, "I'll see you later?" He nodded and waved as he turned down the hall toward the elevators. I slipped away in the opposite direction, heading toward the bathroom. Once inside, I slipped into a stall and pulled out my cell phone.

"Hanes residence," Matthew answered after two rings. I smirked to myself.

"Hey," I greeted.

"Hey, baby, what's going on?" he inquired playfully and I shrugged.

"Nothing, just wanted to hear from you," I answered and he cooed into the phone.

"Aw, you miss me already?" I rolled my eyes.

"Boy, please, you miss me before I even leave the house," I joked, "At least I miss you at reasonable times."

"True dat, true dat," Matthew said, "I can't help it. How can I not miss that cute face?"

"I'm gonna punch you in the balls the next time you call me cute," I threatened weakly and Matthew laughed.

"The day you punch me in the balls is the day I punch you in the ovaries." I wrinkled my nose as I laughed at his random comeback and he chuckled along with me before I quieted down to a small sigh. I bit my bottom lip as the words fought to get out. I looked down at the white floors and glanced at my Chuck covered feet. The Chucks he bent down and put on for me.

"What's wrong?" Matthew asked with an immense amount of concern and I snapped out of my daze, scrambling for an answer.

"Nothing, I was just.." I looked around the stall for a reason, "I was looking at something and got distracted."

"Hmph," he said unconvinced, "It better not have been a hot doctor or something." I smiled and shook my head, even though he couldn't see me.

"No, no hot doctor," I assured, "He's a nurse."

"Oh, you're a comedian, Sash, really." His sarcasm only caused me to laugh again.

"Oh, lighten up, stiff ass, I was jokin'," I teased and he mumbled beneath his breath.

"Whatever," he dismissed quickly, "Are we still getting lunch? I heated up the alfredo, but I ate it so we have to go to Mickey D's or something." I rolled my eyes.

"You stay eating my food," I whined.

"You don't complain when I eat anything else of yours," he said smoothly and I rolled my eyes, but shivered at the thought.

"I walked right into that one, didn't I?" I smiled and he agreed.

"Yes, and you made it so easy." He paused. "Are you sure you're alright?" I shrugged and examined my nails.

"Yeah, man, get off my back," I said lightly, "Seriously, I'm fine, Dad."

"I'm just making sure," he said quietly, "You've been spacing out a lot and you seem so... off sometimes. If something's bothering you-"

"I know I can talk to you, Matt, I just have a lot on my plate right now with work and...everything."

"Like what?"

"Like... stuff, dude," I sighed, "It's fine, really. I can take care of myself."

"I know, Sash, I know," he snapped and I made a sour face.

"What's wrong with you?" I asked, annoyed.

"Oh, just stuff, dude, but I can take care of myself," he mocked.

"Fine, be like that," I childishly retorted and hung up the phone. I stared at the screen for two seconds before dialing the house number again.

"What?" Matthew answered rudely.

"What if it wasn't me, Matt?" I asked, "You'd talk to my mama like that?"

"Well, it was you, wasn't it?" he shot back.

"Yes, and I'm sorry for hanging up, that was rude."

"It was," he agreed before adding, "And unnecessary. I was going to take back what I said. I shouldn't have mocked you."

"It's fine," I assured, "But I'm fine. I just... I don't know. I probably should just tell you, but I-" I stopped short, wondering why I was babbling a little too much.

"But you what?" Matthew pressed on and I shook my head, slapping my forehead in frustration.

"Forget it." Matthew groaned loudly into the phone.

"You drive me crazy, woman," he whined.

"Good," I smirked, "Keeps things interesting."

"If infuriating and annoying is interesting, than yes, you keep things very interesting."

"Whatever, man, I gotta get back to work now," I informed him and he sighed into the phone.

"Are you still eating with me?" he asked as I stood and stretched.

"Of course. Give me about an hour though. I need to check up on some patients," I said. He gave me another melodramatic sigh before relenting.

"Fine, I guess that's okay." I could hear him pouting.

"Don't give that look, buddy," I scolded lightly, "I'll see you in a little while."

"What look?" he asked, "You can't even see me."

"You make that same pouting face every time things don't go your way," I said, "Now if you'll excuse me..."

"Oh, you think you know me so well," he bitterly replied and I smiled.

"Baby, please, you know I know you."

"Don't try and get all sexy," Matthew complained and I laughed. "Trying to start what you can't finish."

"I don't even know what you're talking about," I smiled, "And I always finish what I start. Don't act like you don't know."

"Touche," he resigned, "But when you get home, we'll see about all that."

"Goodbye, Freak McNasty," I joked.

"Mmm... I'll take that nickname and live up to it," he said with certainty, "I'll see you later, baby." He hung up and I sighed to myself. Could lust confuse itself with love? 'Cause the hot blood flowing through my veins bypassed my heart and went to my brain, providing it with warmth and sexual stimulation. I never seen so many images flash through my mind. Matthew'll do that to you. Give you that innocent look and then make you feel like a got damn pornstar.

Not that I'm complaining, but still. Maybe the way he literally made my body feel was what was causing me pain. Not the fact that I haven't heard him whisper that he loves me every night or morning, but the fact that I want to get laid every second of the day because of him.

"Sash," I heard my name being called the moment I stepped out of the bathroom and into the hall. It was a voice that belonged to my mortal enemy and when I turned and saw her, it was confirmed.

"What?" I asked Shannon, not attempting to cover up my annoyance.

"Are you busy?" she inquired with a grin too wide for anything good to be happening to me. I must be getting fired.

"I'm about to meet Matthew for lunch," I said smugly, "Why?"

"Oh, well that's funny because I needed to talk to you about Matthew," she smiled.

"What about him?"

"Well, we've got some really good news," she continued to grin wider and it seemed more evil by the second.

"What?" I asked again and I felt my heart racing a bit more as I gripped my cell phone in my hand.

"Well, it seems that Matthew's going to be heading home soon," she informed me, "Somebody's here to claim him." The words still shocked me even though I halfway expected them to come out of her flithy little mouth. My heart almost ripped from my chest and screamed 'NO!' but I held my composure.

"Who?" I asked, in a much less confident and unhappier tone.

"Why don't you go downstairs and find out?" She walked up to me and placed her hand on my shoulder. "Are you alright? You don't look too good." I pushed her hand from me and she laughed in my face. "I thought you'd be happy."

"And I thought I'd kill you by now, but things don't always work out the way they should, right?" Her face fell momentarily before picking back up again.

"Well, don't be rude, Miss. Hanes, that man's waiting." She waved toward the elevators. "Go get him, tiger." Her laugh echoed through the halls before she walked into the bathroom and disappeared from my vision. I closed my eyes and sighed, feeling my unwillingness chokeholding me as I went to take a step toward the elevators.

A father? A brother? Cousin or Uncle? I shook my head. It was wrong. It wasn't suppose to happen. How dare they show up now? How dare they do this to me when I finally get caught up and unwilling to separate myself from him? They were after the wrong man. The Justin Timberlake they were looking for was not around. It was like he never existed. Only my Matthew existed and they didn't know him. Only I knew him. Only I loved him.

I thought to make a run for it. To pretend like Shannon never saw me and go home and tell Matthew that I loved him and not to worry. I wanted to pack up and leave. It wasn't fair. It just was not fair.

And yet, here I was, pressing the down arrow on the elevator and listening to it ding open. Here I was stepping into the metal box and pressing the button for the lobby floor. Here I was watching the doors slide shut before staring down at the Chucks on my feet. The ones I wanted to rip off and throw before screaming and punching every silver wall enclosing around me. I was so pissed off and completely miserable so quickly and nothing had even happened yet.

The elevator stopped and opened slowly, revealing the hall way full of bustling doctors and nurses and patients and family members. I stared at the floor and walked out with my head bowed before taking a deep breath and straightening out my posture. With my head held high, I bet he thought I was just a nurse who knew the guy he was looking for, but the figure of a man coming closer and closer with every step I took I had no idea who I was. He had no idea that I wanted to beg him to just go back to where ever it is that he came from and never come back again. He had no idea that the thought of him taking Matthew away made my stomach churn with such a strong feeling of displeasure that I wanted to throw up.

And he never will.

"Hi," I greeted, extending my hand to him with the warmest smile I could muster, "I'm Sasheirah. I heard you had some questions about Matthew?" The man took my hand, looking as grateful as his handshake felt. I saw the look of relief go through his face and I felt panick shoot through my gut.

"Yes, I do," he confirmed with a southern twang and my heart jump when he smiled. It reminded me of Matthew's and I wondered if he were a brother of his. "I think he's my best friend." I tried to hold back that grimace threatening to go across my face. His name was already in my head. It had never left from the moment Matthew spoke it. Every name he ever mentioned haunted me in my sleep.

"And what did you say your name was again?" I asked.

"Oh, that was rude of me," he blushed lightly. "I'm Trace. Trace Ayala." I swallowed air and cleared my throat, feeling a dagger jamming itself into my heart with a sickening feeling of confirmation. I glanced over at Clarissa, sitting quietly behind the main desk. She looked like she could see my heart ripping into a million pieces and I quickly glanced away. Sympathy did me no good. It only embarrassed and hurt me further.

I pushed everything back. I told my head to shut up and my heart to get over it. Tears and denied held no purpose here. It would be wasted effort. I'm sure this man has traveled far and wide trying to find his best friend of however many years. I only had Matthew for two months. He did not belong to me, really, I reasoned. I'm smart enough to know that, so I smiled a bit more before I opened my mouth and spewed the biggest lie I could have ever told. "Well, I'm so glad to meet you, Trace."

Trace actually looked like a mini version of Matthew. His hair was buzzed down and he wore earrings in both ears, diamond studs to be exact. His style was dressy, but casual. He wore what I recognized as William Rast jeans from the 'W' printed on the back pockets as he walked ahead of me toward the elevators. The puffy black jacket he wore looked oversized, but warm and his gray vest and white dress shirt was visible through the open front of his jacket left unzipped. He was cute, though Matthew surpassed him in every way, especially height. Trace only had a few inches on me as opposed to the foot Matthew towered over me with. I frowned, imagining how they'd be the hottest best friend duo, hitting up the clubs and getting laid by anybody they beckoned towards them. Girls that were supermodels compared to little ol' me that they'd pass off as nothing.

Yet, there was a sense of maturity about Trace, as if he lived his party life and learned all he needed to know. He didn't look older than Matthew though. He actually seemed to be the younger one of the two. I pondered over that as we rode the elevators up to the seventh floor, which was always practically deserted for some reason. Trace had asked for privacy when he spoke to me about Matthew, so I decided this was as far away from prying eyes and ears that we could get in the hospital. I double checked the halls anyway once we stepped out of the elevators.

"I guess we should get down to business," I joked, taking a seat at the couch pushed against a large window in the middle of the hall. The burgandy cotton fabric was broken into by different sized triangular patterns of oranges and greens and yellows. It was tacky, but to be expected in a hospital. I watched as Trace's hand rested on the top edge and his fingers flowed the lines of the patterns as he took a seat next to me. We both turned on our sides, facing each other in a comfortable positions that made it look like we were old friends, chatting it up. I was holding back my chaotic emotions pretty well, but my mind was going a mile a minute, racing with every horrible image of goodbye. I couldn't tell which were worse; the thoughts of him leaving against his will or the thoughts of him simply walking off willingly with Trace. They both hurt.

"Well, first off... This Matthew guy... What does he look like?" I shrugged, playing along with his subtle way of asking if he looked like Justin Timberlake or not. The guy might as well get it out already, but if he wanted to play dumb, I could keep up.

"White guy, about a foot taller than me...Blue eyes, sandy hair. Dark blonde-brownish, I guess. Nice smile. A little lanky, but muscular... Hooked nose and these freckles on his upper back and shoulders." I noticed the raised brow on Trace's face and hurried to my next description. "And the boy can sing. All the time in the shower with the Al Green and Marvin Gaye..."

"Does he remind you of someone?" he pried and I rolled my eyes, looking around us again to make sure the coast was clear.

"Trace, it's okay, I know who he is," I assured with a small smile, "Well, I know who he was anyway."

"Was?" Trace inquired.

"He decided that Justin was a terrible name and that he wanted to be Matthew since it was cooler. I didn't argue, so now he's Matt." Trace seemed sadden by this news as he looked down at his lap and shook his head.

"Matthew..." he mumbled thoughtfully and I just watched as he fiddled with his fingers. "He wanted to name his first son that, ya know? He always used to tell me growing up that he wanted a kid named Matthew just so he could call him Matt. It was biblical, simple, and manly. Like every southern gentlmen should be..." He chuckled to himself at some inside joke I'd probably never understand before looking back up at me. "I really don't want you telling the world about this. We can work out a deal or-"

"Trace, please," I said, raising my hand to silence him, "If I wanted to sale him out, you would've seen him on the cover of Us Weekly two months ago. I'm not like that. Matthew and I are... We're friends. I don't do grimey shit like that to friends."

"Good," Trace said with a bit of uncertainty, "Then I don't have to worry about you being the 'source' in every magazine reporting on his memory loss or something."

"You don't have to worry, really. I have no interest in those kinda things." He nodded and we were silent for a moment. I looked at my Chucks and frowned. I'll never wear these again when Matthew leaves.

"So...how bad is he?" Trace asked, tapping his temple for effect. "I heard the memory was shot to hell."

"No, not that bad anymore. He remembered you. And his mom. And his brothers."

"That's it?" I shrugged. "Well, shit, he better start remembering his Dad or he's gonna be pissed once he's out of the ER. That man is fighting for his life down there trying to see his son again." I felt my chest tighten with worry.

"His dad?" I asked, Trace nodded. "That's who Trey and Mike were saying should've stayed in the car."

"Yeah, it was crazy. I was in the car with him and Trey and Mike got out to talk to those kids... His dad went crazy when Mike asked the kid about his phone. It was Justin's. There are probably five Sprint phones like his and he swore up and down the Nike's on the other boy's feet were Justin's too. He got all pissed off when the kid flipped open the phone and had this conversation right in front of Mike and Trey's faces..." Trace shook his head sadly. "Then this guy walks out in the same leather jacket we last saw Justin in. That was it. His dad lost his mind." Trace paused and bit his bottom lip, as if willing himself not to cry. I became extremely uncomfortable and sad. "Justin loves his Dad. He's as close to him as his mother. If something happens..." He trailed off. I frowned deeper.

"I'm sure he'll be fine," I assured as best I could. "He's a fighter, obviously." Trace laughed briefly.

"Yeah, that's where Justin gets his temper, fo' sho'..." he smiled dreamily. "It was his idea, Justin's dad's, to use Justin's phone to track him down. We were trying to pick up on call patterns from his phone bill. Like the general areas they were calling so we could have some idea where they were centered at, but they were passing it around or something. We had Jersey and Miami and New York listings. We couldn't tell where they were at. Then we got this GPS thing going with Sprint. Took forever and a day to pay those people off. They're not suppose to use it unless it's police business or some shit, but we tossed thousands at these people just so we could get access to this technology without anybody ratting us out to the media and it was worth it every penny 'cause we're here now and so is Justin. No paps or headlines in the wake. His dad's going to be so happy."

"Why didn't you just alert the media? I was worried that something was wrong with you guys. I would've been freaking out. You know those people would've hunted him down for you in no time." Trace paused a bit and chewed his bottom lip. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he quickly denied. "There's just a lot of shit that went down when Justin left, so we didn't even start looking until about month into his up and leaving. He tends to run off when he's pissed, but this... this was amazing. He planned this too well. He used cash and got around on his own. Nobody knew where he was or with who. We just knew he had gone. He was stupid for not telling anybody anything. And then he comes here, of all places...No offense."

"None taken," I shrugged off, "If I had millions of dollars, I would've chosen a better place myself."

"Yeah, but alerting the media would've been... chaos. Could you imagine what would've happened if we said Justin Timberlake was missing? And we didn't even know if he were safe. If people knew that he were out there alone like that, no protection-"

"He'd get his ass kicked to the point of memory loss and robbed?" Trace opened his mouth to argue, but quickly shut it.

"Well... it could've been a lot worse, I'm sure," Trace decided and I allowed it before my curiousity peaked up.

"So...what happened?" Trace looked up at me. "I mean, what pissed him off so much that he left the way he did?"

"I... I don't know if I should really discuss that with you." I was a bit offended by this and it must've shown in my face. "Sasheirah, I really appreciate everything you've done. I really do. I just think that what happened doesn't really matter right now. We know he's safe and well taken care of and that's the important part." I didn't like that answer.

"Well... Would it be safe for him to go back home?" I asked, now on the defense for Matthew. I did not want to send him back into a painful place. I wanted him to be happy going home.

"He'll be fine, there's no danger or threat against his life or anything," Trace explained, "Just a whole lot of... shit. Life is just a little complicated right now, but he'll work through it. He always does." I nodded, still unsure, but not seeing the point in arguing.

"Well, I guess I better head home then," I announced, standing as Trace did the same. "I better get Matt ready." Trace nodded.

"Wait, before you go," Trace called as I went to turn around and head towards the elevator.

"What?" I asked curiously as he walked along beside me.

"Why do you call him Matt?" he asked, "I mean, I know he told you to call him that, but even when he's not around, you call him that?"

"Well, all I really know is Matthew..." I tried to explain, "You know Justin. That's who you love and grew up with and acknowledge. I don't know that man. He never existed because Matthew can't remember how to be him. So... he's just himself. He's just Matthew."

"But they're the same person," Trace said, confused. "When you look at him, he's Justin Timberlake."

"Physically, yes, but mentally... Maybe not. I haven't had the pleasure I knowing both sides and neither have you. Maybe you'll be able to see what I'm talking about later, when you meet him. I know it sounds crazy now." I pressed the down arrow and he nodded, taking in what I just said before allowing me to step into the metal box before he followed.

"Seriously, thank you," Trace restated for the millionth time, "He's my brother. We grew up like we had the same mama. We wore each other's clothes and fight one another on the daily and I can't even tell you what went through my head the whole time he was missing..." The doors opened and we stepped out.

"Trace, there's no reason to think about all that now. Just worry about everybody getting better and seeing your best friend again, okay?" I was so good at comforting others, but myself...

"I know, I know..." He smiled warmly before walking up to me and embracing my form. I laughed as I struggled to wrap my arms around his puffy jacket. "Thank you so much."

"All right, all right," I jokingly pushed him away and he chuckled. "I'll have them page you when I'm back."

"Cool," he smiled. "I can't wait to see him."

"Well, it won't be too long," I assured, "I'll be back before you know it."

================

The ride home was a silent one, aside from my sobs. The moment I was out of Trace's sight, I was free to be as emotional as I wanted to be. It was almost too much the moment I pulled out of the parking lot and turned the corner. I had to pull over because my tears were blinding me. I eventually gained enough strength to mellow down into silent tears and hiccups until I parked in front of my house. I stared outside the driver's window, glaring at the little house that used to be so warm and inviting. I didn't want to get out of the car just yet so I sat and stared with the keys in my hand, the metal getting warmer in my palm.

I don't know why I was trying to avoid the inevitable. I had no choice but to get out of the car. Matthew was probably itching to blow up my cell with a million and one questions and wonderings. It was irritating and I was going to miss it. I was going to miss him running up to the door like a puppy the moment he heard my keys jingling outside. I was going to miss the way he paused, checked me out, and then hugged me, asking how my day was in one big muffled mess as his lips pressed against my neck in an awkward, hello kiss.

Speaking of kisses, I was definitely going to miss those sweet, lingering, passionate kisses. The ones that make my toes curl when he evily leans over to say goodnight and instead takes the breath out of me with his lips mingling with mine in a delicious affair. It last only a second, but feels like forever before pulling away, brushing our noses and laying down. I was going to miss the weight of his warm body on top of mine and the way his skin felt when sleeked with a thin layer of sweat as he pushed the hair from my face and leant down to kiss me before we both were too overwhelmed with moans of pleasure to keep our lips together.

I closed my eyes, willing away the memories as I hugged myself. I was in pain and it was emotional to the point of physical. I was crouched over, head against the cold leather steering wheel. I shook my head, tears flooding from my eyes. I did not want to do this. I don't think I could actually stand in that house and look at that man and tell him it was time to go home. It was a lie. He was already home. It was not time because there was no right time. I wish I had called out today. Stayed in bed and laid with him all around me. I could feel my heart recoiling. It did not know what to do. After so many lonely nights, it had found something worth getting up for and now... Now it was gone. Being ripped away like everything these last two months has given me has amounted to nothing.

As if I didn't feel dumb before for loving him, now that he's leaving, it further proves me right. I was so stupid to get caught up. I knew he was only temporary, but I had convinced myself somehow without much of my conscious knowledge that it was okay to be open. It wasn't. I could feel the walls building ten times higher. Even in my vulnerable state, I could predict my solid, cold nature in the future. I knew it was coming. Probably as bad as when Angel disappeared because now, I knew for sure, it was my own dumb fault. Angel's douchebaggery was out of my hands, but this... This was all me.

Then I felt the vibration against my thigh and I grabbed my phone and looked at the screen. I was not surprised to see my house number staring back at me. I rejected the call and wiped my face. I looked in the overhead mirror and saw my eyes were bloodshot. I sighed, not really caring, but wishing I looked a bit more presentable. If this was the last he'd see of me, I should at least give him a good memory. Then again, there's no sense in spiffing up for this funeral.

I finally got myself out of the car. I slammed the door shut and walked up my stairs. I searched for my house key briefly before slipping it into the door lock. Then I stopped before I turned it. I stared at the brass knob and felt the tears surging upward. I pushed them back down, turning the lock and pushing open the door. Matthew caught it before it hit him and I was a bit startled by his presence. He was smiling before he saw my face and I looked away.

"What the hell happened?" he asked, locking the door behind me as I walked into the living room. My poor little cat looked at me. Oh no he thought Not again. Oh yes, dear friend, part two of my life's heartbreak is about to come into play. More nights of random crying, angry mornings, and smothering the one man that has yet to break my heart; dear old Bob, my one true, feline friend.

"I just..." I stammered for the words, but I opted on shrugging in the end. "I don't know. I'm being stupid."

"Whatever makes you cry is not stupid," Matthew argued and my back was to him as he spoke. I stared at the television screen, wrinkling my nose at the Jerry Springer mess playing.

"Why are you watching this?" I asked and Matthew sighed, walking around me to the T.V. His scent washed over me and I bit my bottom lip as he pressed the button and the screen went black. Bob meowed in protest, obviously intrigued, before Matthew turned back to me.

"Answer my question, Sash," he said firmly before walking up to me. I watched his body move underneath my Temple University hoodie. I took in how manly and broad his shoulders were and the way the sweats he wore hung from his slim waist. "Sasheirah, please. I'm worried here." His hands reached for me and held my arms as he neared me until he was right against my body. His hands ran down my limp arms. I stared at the red letters written across his chest before they became too blurry to see.

"S-s-somebody..." I stuttered and fell off as I choked on my tears. Matthew pulled me against him and rubbed my back.

"Did somebody do something to you?" he asked, "Are you hurt? Did Shannon get on your nerves or something?"

"No," I weakly replied, rubbing my face against him. My entire face was wet with tears and I was sure the hoodie wasn't too dry either. I didn't want to look up at that face, but I didn't want to miss out on it either. I squeezed my eyes shut, willing away my tears before I pulled away from him and wiped my eyes with the sleeve of my jacket, which I wasn't going to bother taking off. There was no point, we would be leaving soon.

"Sash, can you tell me what's going on?" Matthew asked impatiently, his baby face wrinkled with worry. I looked into his eyes and they were a brighter blue in the natural light of the sun shining in my living room. He had a bit of puffiness beneath each eye and some laugh lines. His mouth was slightly parted and I could see his white teeth peaking through.

"Somebody came by today... " I finally spoke, "And they came to take you home." He went from worried to confused.

"What? Who? When?" he asked in one breath and I held my hand up to silence him before he could continued.

"Your best friend Trace came here with your Dad and some bodyguards of yours, I'm assuming, and they want to take you home, so... Lets go."

"I am home, Sash," Matthew said defiantly, "I'm not leaving to go somewhere with a bunch of strangers. Are you kidding me?"

"They're your family and friends," I argued back and I didn't know why, "Justin-"

"Matthew!" he yelled, "My name is Matthew and I don't know those fuckin' people! How can you stand here and just tell me to leave like that? Look at you! You're a mess already-"

"Don't!" I yelled back with warning. "Do not make this about me in anyway. You have a person waiting for you and you're going to go."

"Are you serious?" Matthew asked, "Are you seriously telling me I have to go with these people just because they may or may not be who they claim they are?"

"Matt, he said his name is Trace Aya-whatever, and he told me that they tracked you down and, by the way, got shot at, for you-"

"Who got shot?" he asked more calmly and I shook my head.

"Two guys named Mike and Trey and your Dad, but I don't really-"

"My dad?" Matthew cut in.

"Yes, your dad," I repeated, "Trace said he started freakin' out and got out of the car... He was still in ER when I-"

"Is he okay?" I went to answer, but took a pause when I saw the look on Matthew's face. The voice almost didn't sound like his even though it came out of his mouth.

"I...I don't know," I stuttered, narrowing my eyes at his form. He looked like he was overheated all of a sudden, wiping sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. "Are you okay?" He looked around the room and blinked quickly before shaking his head.

"I..." He held his head in both hands and wobbled a bit. I grabbed his arms, as if I could hold him up if he had fallen.

"Maybe you should sit down," I suggested, "I'll get you some wat-"

"I'm fine," Matthew waved me off, swatting my hands away. "Lets just go." I was confused by his mood swing, but I stood and watched as he walked to the dining room closet to retrieve his leather coat.

"So now you want to go?" I asked, looking at the ground, not sure if I wanted to know the answer. I held my breath, but nothing came. "Matt?" I walked into the dining room and he was leaning against the wall, sweating a lot more than he was before. His jacket was dragging on the floor as he stubbled back and forth. "Matt!" I called, more panicked. I guess it didn't help because he lost his grip and fell to the floor with the loudest thump I had ever heard. I watched in horror, clamping my hand over my mouth to muffle my scream before I dropped to his side. My fingers felt for his pulse on both his neck and wrist.

I fumbled with my phone as I dug it out of my pocket and dialed 911, screaming at him over and over without a response. I closed my eyes and said a silent prayer as the operator told me they were on their way. I put his limp hand in mine and squeezed it, letting my tears flow as freely as before. I told God over and over that He could never let me see Matt again as long as He got him through whatever it is that he's in right now. I didn't want him to leave, but I certainly didn't want death to be the one way to stop it from happening.

"Matt," I sobbed out, "Matthew, I love you."

--------------------------------------------------

I woke up in the most uncomfortable chair ever made in the most uncomfortable position ever attempted to be slept in. I groaned when the sun burned my eyes and it took me a moment to realize I was in one of the white hospital rooms I was accustomed to seeing everyday. Only this time, I had a very bad reason to be sitting here. Matthew. Sweat. Falling. 911. Trace. I was hoping it was all a dream, but I rubbed my eyes and heard confirmation that it was true.

"Hey, you're awake." The same strange, but familiar voice I knew belonged to Matthew and I stretched and looked across the room. He was sitting up in his hospital bed with a tray of food in front of him. He reached for the remote beside him and turned off the television. He was looking at me with an awkward smile as I wiped the sides of my mouth with the back of my hand.

"I think that you being awake is the real miracle," I grumbled before I yawned. "You feeling better?" He scooped up a cube of jell-o, the red jiggly mess almost toppled off the silver spoon, but he popped it into his mouth just in time.

"I feel great, actually," he assured, "Nurse said I had some type of anxiety attack." I nodded, looking at him and his shifting eyes that never stayed on me too long.

"Justin?" I called cautiously and he looked right up without hesitation or annoyance.

"What's up?" he inquired and I felt my heart sink.

"You didn't correct me," I said, "You let me call you Justin." He swallowed his jell-o and looked down at the bowl.

"Well..." he said slowly, "That's...my name." Then there was a deafening silence when reality set in and I realized that I didn't know this man sitting across from me at all. He had the same smile and eyes and voice, but he was not Matthew. Not even close.

"When?" I asked and he shrugged.

"I woke up and...here I am," he laughed to himself without much humor, "I told you that I didn't understand how this works."

"Do you know who I am?" I asked cautiously and he gave me a sad look like I had disappointed him.

"Sash, I could never forget you," he told me sincerely, "The Matthew in me would never allow it." I made a sour face, not wanting Matthew to be a person from within instead of a person inside and out. I gripped the arms of the chair to keep myself from screaming. I had lost Matt anyway and Justin wasn't even out of Philly yet.

"I'm going to get some coffee," I announced, standing up and making a beeline for the door.

"Sasheirah, please," Mat- Justin pleaded. "I haven't forgotten a thing. I still care about you, okay?" I was thankful to be facing the door because my eyes involuntarily welled up.

"I'll be back," I told him, walking out before he could respond. I slowly shut the door behind me and stood there for a moment before turning to leave. The moment I did, I rammed right into a body.

"Whoa," Trace said, raising his coffee cup holding hands. "Good afternoon."

"What time is it?" I asked.

"It's half past noon," he told me with a small smile, "Did you get a chance to talk to Justin?"

"For two seconds," I said, "I wanted some coffee." I sniffled and ran my hands over my face. Trace frowned and I rolled my eyes. "I'm fine."

"I didn't say a word," Trace told me innocently, "But I did bring you a coffee. Justin told me lots of cream and three sugars." I stared at the cup in his hands and breathed it in. He remembered the way I liked my coffee, but I didn't know a thing about him. It felt like he and I were old friends who knew a little about each other from the past we shared, but knew nothing about all the changes we went through over the years. I knew the Matthew in Justin, but I didn't know Justin himself. I wasn't sure if I wanted to. In those few seconds of sitting there with him, nothing felt the same. I did not feel safe or at ease. Conversation didn't flow. There was a wall that was built up between us and it was too awkward to do anything about it.

"I have to go freshen up anyway, so could you hold it for me?"

"That's fine," Trace said before I walked around him to head towards the bathroom. "Hey, Sasheirah." I sighed before turning around. "He's sorry about everything. Honestly, if he had any say-"

"Trace, really, I'm fine," I assured before making my exit into the ladies room down the hall. I didn't turn once to see his face or hear a reaction, and he did not offer a verbal response. The moment I was inside, I checked the stalls to assure I was alone before going up to the sink. I looked at my reflection in the mirror in front of me and frowned. My eyes were puffy and a light pink from my previous crying. My eyes were tight and I looked as sleep deprived as I felt. I shook my head, feeling like I was killing myself over nothing. What was the point in all these tears? He was definitely going to leave now. He had his life back, the way things should have always been. He never belonged here and I knew that since day one.

I was a fool and this was my punishment.

I washed off my face and coached myself the right lines to say once I got back in the room. It was really nice meeting you Trace, and Justin, I'm glad you're okay now. I really do wish you both the best and I hope your Dad's okay. Tell Mike and Trey I said goodbye because I really have to get back to work. Don't be strangers, okay? You always got a friend down here if you ever stop by.

Seemed good enough to get me out of there as quickly as possible, so I almost jogged down the hall to get it over and done with. I knocked on the door lightly before allowing myself inside. Justin and Trace looked up at me with identical smiles. "Sorry to interrupt, but I just wanted to tell you that it was really nice meeting you Trace, and Justin... I'm glad you're okay now. I really do wish you both the best and-"

"Sash, could you actually hold that thought for a moment?" Justin interrupted.

"Actually, I have to get back to work so-"

"Just a minute, please?" Justin asked before turning to Trace. "Could you please give us a sec, man?" Trace nodded.

"Sure, I'll be in the cafeteria," Trace announced, "I'll get you a sandwich. Anything for you Sasheirah?"

"No, thanks though," I politely declined before he left Justin and I allowed. I stood by the door with my hands behind my back. Justin stared at me. I glanced at my Chuck covered feet and made a mental note to bury them as deep into the back of my closet as I could.

"Sash," Justin said, turning to hang his legs off the edge of the bed. "Don't stand so far away."

"I'm fine over here," I told him, biting on my bottom lip. "Just say what you have to say."

"I didn't want it to be like this," he said sadly, "Don't be angry with me."

"I'm not," I told him...well, angrily. "I'm mad at myself, not you."

"Why?" he asked simply and I shrugged.

"Because... this whole thing was so stupid," I tried to laugh, but it came out fake. "This whole Matthew thing I had going on... It was... it was stupid."

"It wasn't stupid," he argued, "I happen to think that we had something real there. Something that definitely would've went somewhere if I hadn't-"

"Woken up yourself again?" I supplied. "It was stupid. Really."

"I really... I really care for you, Sash, you have to know that," he said earnestly and I wanted to believe him, but I couldn't.

"I know Matthew cared about me," I said softly, "I know he didn't want this."

"If I could stay, I probably would," Justin comforted, "But... Sash, you wouldn't believe half the shit I'm in back at home."

"I think I can believe anything at this point," I mumbled.

"I don't want to hurt you with the truth, but I don't want to lie to you either," he mumbled back and I raised a brow.

"I think it's better for you to just lay it all out on the table now," I said, "When else are we going to be able to talk like this again?" There was a pause and I anticipated the worse.

"I'm engaged."

"Engaged in what?" I asked dumbly, trying to grasp at the pathetic pile of straws in my mind. "A form of illegal activity?" Justin, who's name now came to mind so easily because he was not my Matthew in the least, gave me a look of confusion. As if he had the right to be confused. I was the confused one. I was the one who would rather him say he was involved in drug trafficking than...

"I'm engaged... to be married," he clarified and just like that, the dagger in my heart turned over and over, ripping through the sensitive tissue of my mangled heart. It made me place my hand over my chest, as if it would help to ease the pain. I shook my head. I could not fathom that what he was saying could be true.

"How can you be engaged?" I asked, "You never mentioned it before."

"I never thought about it before," he offered as the weakest excuse ever, "I couldn't remember my own name at a point. My entire life dropped out of my head and it all just came back."

"You remembered your mom and your brothers and Trace," I argued, feeling somewhat betrayed and lied to. I started to think he knew all along. "You googled your heart out when I was at work, but you never saw one article about who you're dating?"

"I saw some stuff, but I didn't pay it any mind because I was with you; at least I was trying to be, but you never made that easy." I scoffed in disbelief.

"You have some nerves talking about me not letting things between us be easy," I griped, "I fed and clothed and cared for you without asking for a damn thing in return. Hell, if I made things even easier, you probably would've made this a lot worse. Thank God I kept my distance." That was bullshit. My distance my ass. My heart had long settled into his hands and it was hard to keep my exterior from revealing how heart broken and sad, rather than angry, I was at this new revelation. "And what do you mean you never paid attention to stuff like that? Don't you think it's a little important to know if you're engaged or not?"

"Everything said something different. I was dating Cameron, I was with Jess. I was engaged. My wedding was off. I couldn't get my head around it all and I didn't know who to believe. And I only looked at that stuff for two seconds," he said annoyed, like I was bothering him with questions.

"Justin, you're engaged! You knew that and you ignored it and you made me-" I cut myself off and took a breath, "How could you stare in my face every day and lie? Act like it was fine and we had some sort of future together?"

"Because that's what Matthew wanted to believe," he said, "I had no home other than yours. I had no woman other than you. Sash, if I honestly had any idea how deep my relationship with Jessica was, I wouldn't have let myself get that close to you. I would've gladly went to that homeless shelter just so I wouldn't be tempted to fall for you the way I did. . . The way I have."

"Shut up," I snapped, "Don't feed me that shit to try and sweet talk your way out of this-"

"I'm not sweet talkin', I'm telling you the truth," he interrupted, standing from the bed and stalking over toward me quickly. I stepped back and hit the door. He pinned me in with his arms. I was trapped inside a cage that my trembling heart did not care to break out of. "You... you have no idea how much harder you're making this for me."

"I'm sorry for existing," I sarcastically spat and his eyes held my gaze before momently dipping down to glance at my lips. "Don't even think about it."

"I already have," he admitted in a much softer tone, "I've thought about more than that. I've thought about you way too deeply all those hours I spent with you and even when you were gone. I honestly was ready to build my life around you. I didn't want to go back to my 'old' life. I had too much of a good, new one with you."

"Why are you telling me this when you're leaving anyway?" I asked. "Are you trying to make me feel worse?" If he was, it was working. He was saying too much of what I wanted to hear and he was contradicting all of it with his actions. He talked like he wanted to stay, and yet he was choosing to leave.

"I'm not trying to do anything," he assured sincerely and I felt my eyes prickle with tears. "Sash, I'm just trying to tell you in words what I feel for you. I don't want us leaving on misunderstandings and bad terms. I want you to know that what I feel for you is something real. Deep. What I feel for you is so different and scary because what took years for me to build with Jessica feels like it's happening with you in just two months. I don't even know what to do with it, but I know that I can't choose us... I'm not trying to be mean or sound indifferent to what we have, but I spent three and a half years with Jess and I can't... I can't just rid myself of her like she's nothing. Especially now after-" He sighed and his arms limped as his hands weakly slid down the door on either side of me. He leant his forehead against mine and I caught my breath.

"Do I really want to know?" I asked, but I did want to know. I needed to know what made her better than me. This Jessica. This woman with a ring on her finger from the man - or at least a part of the man - I adored. I pushed the fact that she had almost four years with him beneath her belt compared to my measely two months. She had already won that round.

"Jess and I broke up," he told me, his warm breath against my mouth as he spoke. "We were... We were at the hospital because she wasn't feeling good... And... We were worried since..." He was sighing between every broken statement as if it were too much to say and I grew frustrated with his hesitation. I couldn't possibly hurt more. He was still leaving. It didn't matter now.

"Just spit it the fuck out," I groaned and he nodded against our contacting skin, making my head wobble involuntarily.

"Jessica and I got engaged during Thanksgiving," he explained, "Everything was great and I... I was so happy when she told me a week or two later that she was pregnant..." I closed my eyes, forcing back the sob of distress. Engagement. Kids. This was a Jerry Springer special and I was the leading guest.

"Okay, and?" I pressed on.

"And then she got sick and we went to the hospital...." He took in a deep breath and pushed himself away from me, breaking our contact as he briskly walked over to the wide, bay windows that overlooked the city. I watched as he took his cletched fist and punched the glass, making it shake and making me jump. I didn't say anything, knowing that it was not the time to nag him to continue or to ask what his problem was. This was a moment of silence. "I'm sorry." I was confused by his strained voice and his apology.

"Don't waste your time with apologies, Justin," I calmly told him, "Just tell me what's going on."

"You know I hate hospitals, right?" I nodded, even though his back was to me as he stared out at the buildings and sky scrappers of downtown. "Well, I have good reason."

"Like?" I urged on.

"Like watching my fiancee go through tests and being told everything was fine and she didn't need to worry... And then wake up in the middle of the night, screaming because she was in a puddle of blood that soaked our entire bed." I stared at his back as he hunched over slowly, shaking a bit. My heart tightened in my chest when a lonely whimpering sob escaped his throat. My feet moved before I thought and I was hugging his waist and resting my face against his back.

"I'm sorry," I tried to console, but I knew it wasn't enough.

"I went to that hospital and they told me she was fine, gave her some meds for the pain..." My eyes blurred with sympathetic tears as he sniffled. "Then my baby's gone. Just like that." I rubbed my face into his back and he stood straighter. I detached myself from him and wiped my face as he turned to look at me and did the same. "You'd think that would be enough for one man. God wouldn't let me suffer through much more than that."

"Jessica isn't dying, right?" I did not like her, but I did not wish death on a recently miscarrying mother.

"No, but something was killing her and she swore that her karma is what took our child away," he said, sadly shaking his head. "Or at least what was possibly our child." I covered my hand with my mouth and widened my eyes.

"No," I gasped, "She did not." Justin nodded, confirming what I was already concluding.

"After her miscarriage she told me that there was a 50/50 chance it wasn't mine because she had cheated a few days before I proposed. It 'just happened' and she was going to tell me, eventually, but the baby and the engagement and excitement was just too much for her to squeeze in the small detail that she was two timing me and having babies with other men." He glanced up to the heavens and shook his head as if he couldn't believe it himself. I stood there and stared at his profile as he wiped his face and I saw how bitter he was. I saw how much he didn't want to go back because he was still hurt. His wounds were fresh now. Like there weren't two months between his drama. I guess there wasn't. He just remembered it all today, multiple slaps in the face, I'm sure.

"And you want to work things out?" I asked. I was a bit fuzzy on that part. If I had a fiance cheat on me, made me believe some baby was mine when it could not be, and then fell for someone else, I would at least be hesitatant. It didn't seem like he paused at all. Like he knew he was going to go back to her no matter what because I just didn't amount to her for some reason or another. I frowned at the thought. Once again, I'm second best in the eyes of the man I put first.

"I know... It sounds like I'm stupid, cheating is enough reason to leave her..." He paused before he offered a small shrug. "It's just not that simple. Not with her. I know Jessica is a good person and doesn't have a cynical, manipulative bone in her body. She didn't cheat because she intended to hurt me or had it in mind when it happened. It did just happen. She honestly didn't mean it and I know that."

"How can you know that?" I asked, confused as hell. I didn't know there were good cheaters and bad cheaters. They were all assholes if you asked me.

"Because despite the fact that she cheated on me, like basically every woman I've ever been in love with, there was something... different. Whenever I got cheated on, I never felt the need to fight for the relationship. It always felt like it was over because there was nothing worth holding onto, but with Jessica, I see that maybe we can work something on, ya know?" I glanced down at my Chucks again and closed my eyes because they only reminded me of the face I was trying to avoid now.

"No, I don't," I answered honestly, "But if that's how you feel, I can't change your mind. You love her, so go and get her."

"I'm sorry, I really am," he apologized and I waved him off.

"Don't apologize, please," I cringed at the idea of sympathy. It made me feel more pathetic. "It only makes it worse when you apologize."

"I didn't want to hurt you, but I know that I have. I know that you're building up all those walls again and I'm so sorry that I had to be that guy to you again. I want to tell you not to close yourself off, but I already know what's going to happen and I can't blame you for feeling defensive again. This is all pretty shitty."

"Just a little bit," I mumbled before adding, "But don't lose sleep over me, Justin. I'm a big girl and -"

"You can take care of yourself, I know," he interrupted with a swift roll of his eyes. "It's your heart I'm worried about."

"Well, don't worry 'cause I got that too." Actually, he had it, but I'd get it back eventually. This won't kill me, but I don't think it'll make me stronger either.

"You got everything," he complained jokingly and I shrugged.

"What can I say? I'm the total package." He smiled down at me sadly and nodded.

"You really are," he agreed before opening his arms and pulling me into a tight embrace. I didn't fight. I gladly welcomed him into my arms, so sad and soon to be empty because there would not be another man to fill them for God knows how long. I breathed in his scent and wondered if Justin smelled like this all the time, or if this was just the last of Matthew I was getting. l wondered if he would get home to Hollywood and spray on a ton of his expensive cologne, masking his natural smell that I loved so much.

His hands were warm around my shoulders as his fingers managed to gently push back the hair from my face and graze my skin in sweeping caresses. This was Matthew's hug and I felt in in every part he touched. I felt it in my heart that struggled with the reality of this situation. I told myself over and over that he was leaving. That he was gone. That I'd never see him again because the whole 'we can still be friends' line had never came out of his mouth and even if it did, we both knew that was a lie. I couldn't possibly be his friend anyway. I was too selfish to share such a small part of him.

"That's enough," I squeaked out weakly from against his chest.

"No, one more minute," Justin said, kissing my exposed forehead before sighing and reluctantly letting me go. I was cooled instantly by the room temperature that hit me once his warm body was gone. He stared down at me and I looked up at him. I thought to kiss him and make him change his mind. Take him right in the middle of this hospital room on the cold linoleum floors and make him rethink his decision, but I fought against that urge. He did not want to stay with a clear mind and no sexual distraction would give me a lasting answer. He might, for a second, stay, but eventually, he'd leave me anyway. Better now than later I suppose, but at the same time, a moment longer with him would've been nice.

"So when do you leave anyway?" I asked, not really wanting to know. Justin shrugged.

"I guess as soon as Trace comes back up here. Since my Dad's out of ER and doing fine-"

"Oh, that's great," I interrupted, "When'd you find out?"

"This morning Shannon told me the news," I rolled my eyes and he chuckled. "The bullet just missed his spine, so they had to take it out really carefully so they wouldn't hit any nerves. He's wheelchairin' it, but he can be moved to a Los Angeles hospital so he'll be closer to home."

"That's great," I said with a small smile, "Hopefully the flight will be fine."

"Yeah, we're all set," he told me, "I have a jet waiting for me." I nodded.

"Of course you do," I smiled weakly, "I'm talking to a millionaire here." It felt so weird to have that come out of my mouth. As much as I was on Matthew's ass about paying me back, the amount of money he was actually worth never really stayed in my mind. It made 'us' more unreal. More impausible.

"That reminds me," Justin said, turning to walk across the room. He stuck his hand beneath his pillow and turned back to me with a white envelope. "I want you to have this." I stood there as he walked up and stopped in front of me. There was barely enough room for him to hand me the envelope. I took it and ripped it open slowly before pulling out the slip of paper tucked inside. I gasped.

"Oh, hell no!" I declined, shoving the check right back into where it came from before pressing it against his chest. "I cannot take that money from you."

"It's yours," Justin argued, handing it towards me. I backed away, waving him off.

"No, it's not," I argued back. "Ten thousand dollars? Are you crazy?"

"That's nothing compared to everything you've done for me," he said sincerely, "I owe you this money."

"You don't even owe me a penny, Justin, I did everything because I cared about you. I was joking about the wallet thing -"

"I know, Sash, I know," he smirked, "That's why I want you to have this even more because you didn't try to use me. You did everything because you just wanted to help me out and that deserves some recognition."

"A thank you is sufficient enough and you have thanked me a million times over already," I sighed. "I'm not taking that."

"Sash..." he scolded.

"No."

"Take the check, I already wrote it out to you and put it in my checkbook-"

"I don't care."

"Take the money," Justin baggered on.

"No," I stubbornly crossed my arms over my chest and jerked back when he tried to stick the envelope on me.

"Take the check," Justin grumbled.

"No." He stared at me and I stared at him before he finally sighed and relented.

"Fine." He stuck the check into his pocket and shook his head. "You're impossible."

"I'd like to think so," I smiled smugly. He offered me a wide grin before walking back to the bed and stuck his hand under his pillow again.

"Which is why..." He pulled out a black, velvet box that looked like a necklace belonged in it. I narrowed my eyes at him.

"You did not," I said as he walked up to me and held out the box in his hands. He grinned widely.

"Did I?" he asked me and I raised a brow, my curiousity getting the best of me. I slowly snapped back the lid and furrowed my brows.

"Keys?" I asked, picking them up before seeing the Lexus symbol printed on one of them. "Oh my God!" I think the whole hospital heard my screaming as Justin laughed.

"And you have to take it because Trace has towed your car already," Justin smugly smiled. "And who won this round?" He pointed at himself proudly and I smiled despite myself.

"I really hope he can get my car back because I will be taking the bus until he does," I placed the keys in his palm, "Sorry Bud."

"What?" Justin asked, "You have a brand new Lexus."

"From you," I reminded, my smile falling, "I appreciate you trying to be nice to me and thanking me, but every time I get in that car, I'm going to think about you and that's not going to help me forget that pretty little face of yours."

"Forget about me?" Justin asked, confused, "Sash, we're still friends...right?"

"Friends?" I asked, "How can we be friends when we...aren't?"

"But we are."

"Justin, it may be easier for you to say that because you've got somebody waiting on you to come back home, but... I don't, ya know? Things are looking a little grim in my world. I can't drive this car, constantly reminding me about how fucked up we got." That was as emotional as I was going to allow myself to get. I did not want to cry or drop to my knees and beg him to reconsider. My depressed side was ready to do anything to stop the unbearable amount of pain that would hit me so hard the moment he actually got on that jet.

"But I already towed it..." Justin whined, "And I paid for the car already. I even got the insurance on it in my name... It's set up and it's a really nice little vehicle..."

"For the love of all things good and holy..." I rolled my eyes. I guess that it could be something I could have fond memories of. At least it was something completely from him and everytime I drove it, I'd be hurt, but at the same time, I'd feel good knowing that he picked it out and made the effort to actually get it....

"Are you changing your mind?" Justin asked hopefully, knowing me too well. I shrugged.

"I guess it would make sense to just take the car," I said, "You already stole my Buick, so I don't have much of a choice." He laughed.

"Good," he smiled, "I really wanted you to have it."

"How'd you get all this done anyway?" I asked, "In less than twenty-four hours, you have a jet, you towed my car, purchased me a new one, and insured it."

"I'm just a master," he smiled, "But seriously, that was all Trace. I wouldn't be able to find my socks in the morning without him." It was a genuine, content statement that made me realize how much he missed his best friend and his family. My heart sank down to my stomach because if I couldn't compete with the women who cheated, I certainly couldn't compete with the best friend, the family, and the shot body guards.

"Well, you won't have to worry about socks anymore than, right? You've got your boy and your life back."

"But I'm losing a big chunk of my life too," Justin tried to console but I waved him off.

"I'm just a grain of sand on the entire beach," I said, "I'm nothing to worry about."

"For someone so confident, you sure put yourself down a lot."

"Keeps me humble," I joked and he frowned.

"I'm going to miss the shit out of you." I bit my bottom lip and nodded my head. My eyes welled up again, but I only let one tear fall before I wiped my face clean and sniffled. Justin hugged me again and I rested my hand over his heart, feeling it beat a little faster than normal as we squished together. He was so warm and I knew I'd miss that body laid up against me. I gave him a squeeze and he returned it with a grunt as he took the air out of my lungs with all his strength. I did not complain, but I did gasp a little before he released me. My fingers rested on his elbows and his arm rested around my waist as he took his free hand to smooth back my ponytail. I stared at his face for a moment before I told myself to fuck the world and kiss him just one last time because I deserved it.

My lips crushed on top of his like a horny amateur and he stumbled a little before regaining his balance enough to steady my face in his hands. He slowed down our kiss with his gentle and timid movements. His tongue seemingly more skilled than my own soothed me and weakened my already tired body further. I remembered every time we made love and how toe curling it was. I remembered every innocent peck he'd give me in the mornings or the not so innocent ones we'd have on the couch before he took me upstairs and ....

I had to stop. I was just torturing myself. Justin must've read my mind because he slowly pulled us apart. Our noses brushed before he kissed my forehead, went back to kiss the tip of my nose before finally kissing my cheek and pulling away. He sighed and took my hand, placing the keys he was holding to my new Lexus back into my palm before curling my fingers over them.

"You really take care of yourself." I nodded and he hugged me one last time, leaning over to whisper in my ear, "Happy Birthday, Sashy Washy." He used the nickname I hated and I didn't even correct him because I knew I'd miss that too.

In fact, I already did.

The glass was cold against my hand as I pressed my palm and finger tips to the window and stared down outside into the street. A car drove by and it was blurred by the rain that splat against the windows. Each drop resounded in the empty space of my room and added to the dreary atmosphere. It was gray out and windy. My breathing was causing some fog, but I wiped it away and continued to stare down at the asphalt, my eyes avoiding what I was really looking for... But, as always, they could not resist the shiny dark blue coat of the Lexus that was parked right below me. I purposely parked there just so I could see it everyday and feel the pain that was sharp and evident striking through my chest. It let me know that it was real. That he actually existed.

I closed my eyes, the stinging of tears still shocked me even though it's been a month and they've come every night. Morning. Afternoon. I was still adjusting. It wasn't always this bad, but on days where the rain would not cease, I remembered him. I remembered how much he made me love the rain because we'd lay in bed and listen to it. My hand over his bare chest, feeling his heart beat beneath his sculpted pecs and his arms enveloping me. I'd just close my eyes and sigh with this feeling of being so content and relaxed.

Now I sigh with frustration and nostaglia. A longing for what was and could've been. I wondered if I had told him I had loved him, would he have stayed. I wondered if I told him and he left anyway, would I have just hurt more. I wondered and wondered and it wasn't the wondering that bothered me, it was the never knowing. I would never get the answers because he had gone home and settled comfortably into his old life without a care in the world about how I was doing.

I know that I told him not to worry, but I was expecting him to at least call and tell me he was okay. The flight was fine. He was settled. I was expecting him to ask me if I was okay, but nothing. The snow melted and washed away with the rain and he didn't think to call. I didn't have his number, but mine never changed. He knew it by heart as Matthew... I was sure he didn't forget it. Or maybe he did... Though he still could've asked, not that I had asked him for his.

I shook my head at my jumbled thoughts. I didn't want to think any more. All I did was think and it was the culprit for my sadness and my insomnia. I was sleepless for the first few nights since his departure, now I sleep and wake up at unreasonable hours because all I see is his face and hear his words of goodbye.

I wanted to just stay asleep. The deepest sleep where you didn't dream or wake up remembering a dream. I wanted to stay like that forever because it was easier than being awake. It was easier than dealing with the mind numbing pain of heart break. I shook my head, letting my tears fall and appear to be rain to anybody walking in the street and glancing up at the strange woman in the window. I let them fall because I was tired of pretending I wasn't dying inside. I was tired of pretending that I didn't miss him as much as I did. I was tired of trying to be Miss. Independent when I was too distraught these days to scramble eggs without burning them.

I closed my eyes for a moment, inhaling deeply to calm myself. I was a fucking mess and I knew it. A part of me was so angry for being this weak. I wish that I were stronger. I wish I could have some control over myself and not have gotten that deep into him when I knew that he'd go. What the hell was I thinking? How could I be stupid enough to believe the snowball chance in hell notion that everybody would just forget about him and leave him right with me?

Before I could even begin beating myself up into the mental bloody pulp I deserved, the slamming of a truck door cut through the pitter pattering rain. My eyes popped open and stared down at the street. A brown UPS truck was blocking my little one way street as it idled itself beside my car. I saw a delivery man jogging to the back and hopping into the open trunk part before jumping back out and running toward my house. I raised a brow. A package? For me? Maybe he had the wrong address.

The doorbell rang and I slid from the window sill and made my way across my room, down the hall, and quickly down the stairs. I wiped my face, but figured I looked like shit anyhow before I opened the door. The wind and rain blew into my door and wet my face and feet as the man squinted and held out a box.

"Package for Sa-Sash-"

"Sasheirah," I supplied, taking the box from his hands as he handed me the electrical device to sign.

"Have a good day, Ma'am." He gave me a once over just oozling with pity and I offered a small, fake smile before he jogged off to his truck, hopped inside, and drove away. Even though it was cold out, the air felt good and it wasn't until Bob meowed that I realized I was standing in just a white t-shirt that belonged to Matthew and the rain was soaking me. I shut the door for the sake of my cat and carried the package against my chest as I made my way to the couch. I plopped down and placed the package on my lap, staring at the brown box with no return address. Just my info and nothing else. I hoped it wasn't a bomb before I tore the tape from it and opened it.

I picked up a white envelope that was tucked inside, placed on top of a black box just as big as the original box it was in, tied in white ribbon. The envelope had nothing written on the front or back so I just tore it open. Inside was a birthday card. It was white and had a cupcake with rainbow sprinkles on it. They reflected in the light and I smirked. It was cute. I flipped it open and there was a side full of handwritten words, loopey, but readable. I glanced at the end, it was signed 'Justin' and I frowned. My heart ached with joy and sadness as I braced myself to read the words.

His number was written at the bottom and my stomach knotted up. As much as I wanted to hear from him, I didn't know what to say. I wondered if that were a cell phone number or the number to his house. The house he shares with his fiance. His cheating, miscarrying fiance who's better than me and worth fighting for. My bottom lip quiver as my tears fell silently. I placed the card aside, taking the black box out of its cardboard covering. I tossed the empty box on the floor because placing the smooth, ribbon covered one onto my lap. I ran my hands over it and wondered what was inside before finally taking apart the knot and lifting the lid.

It was like a mini-maze from the top view, random things separated by little cardboard walls. It was annoyingly neat, like Matthew. There was a wide section that held two gift cards. One was for Target, $300 dollars. I sighed; he was so damn stubborn. There was a little post it attached:

Fine, I resigned, I could just use it to pay my bill. The other gift card was to Payless. It was for $100 dollars. Again, another post-it:

Then there was a long, baby blue Tiffany's box and I paused before picking it up. It better not be another car, I thought before I read the post it attached.

I laughed to myself before pulling it open. There was a white paper folded thinly to fit in the box and as I pulled it off, I gasped at the silver charm bracelet. My girlie side was in completely awe as I pulled it out of the box gently and ran my fingers over every charm. They were random and I was confused before I remembered the white paper. I pulled it open.

There was a list of the cham and it's meaning and I started at the top. It was a snowman, small diamonds for the buttons on his tiny jacket and a top hat.

I rolled my eyes, but smiled to myself as I found a 'M'. That one was more obvious.

"Me too," I said aloud, feeling my tears start up again. I shook my head and regained my composure. Next in line was a detailed hamburger. The sesame seeds on the silver bun were little diamonds as well.

I chuckled. He always ate off my plate, claiming it tasted better coming from me. I never understood him for that, but I always jokingly got mad and slapped his hand away. I sniffled and touched the curvy 'S' charm that was just for me.

It must mean nothing because he's not sitting here with me, telling me all these sweet things. I shook my head. He had to know this would hurt. Every charm. Especially the last.

The note was finished, but my tears were streaming down my face. I wanted to hug, kiss, and slap him all at once. Why was he doing this? Did he not know it was hard enough and now a charm bracelet is custom made with every memory of us hanging from it in an enchanting way. I shook my head, needing to do more with myself than cry. I needed to get out of this godforsaken house and out of these wet clothes. Out of this fucking rut.

I stood with abrupt determination, my mood swings giving me whiplash, and headed upstairs to my room. I grabbed some jeans and a white t-shirt along with some undies that didn't match. I took the quickest shower before bunning up my hair and throwing on some hoops after I dressed. I jogged downstairs again with a pair of white socks in my hand, balled up as I rushed for no reason into my living room. I opened up the coat closest and pushed my jackets aside as I knelt down in search of my Reeboks. My eyes landed on my Chucks for just a brief second before I grabbed my running shoes, stood, and grabbed my black rain coat from one of the hangers.

Two seconds later, I was wearing my sneaks and buttoning the the final button of my jacket. Bob looked perplexed, but I didn't think much about it. In fact, I wasn't thinking much at all. The emptiness of my head made me feel like everything was okay again. The box on the couch full of memories and him was just a box and I gave my faithful cat a rub down before grabbing the giftcards, my wallet, and my keys.

Even with my weatherproof jacket and hood up, I ran through the rain. The car was gleaming and looked so inviting that I couldn't wait to get in. I disabled the alarm and unlocked the doors before slipping inside of its black leather interior. The smell was still new and I didn't want to put any freshner in it to ruin its natural seemed. It reminded me of Matthew and how he never wore cologne. It was refreshing and completely him and I owed my car that same respect. It was all that I had left.

Before I could cry, I started up my car, grateful that it didn't need to warm, before I put it in drive. I didn't know why I decided to travel up to the Target near Aramingo Ave, it was completely out of the way, but I had somehow ended up there. I parked and ran my hand over the steering wheel before stepping outside. I ran to the entrance and was surprised to see it was really crowded for a rainy Wednesday. It looked like a Friday, but apparently I wasn't the only one trying to escape the dreariness of the rain.

My eyes scanned the area and I found the customer service desk and waited for the woman ahead of me to finish before walking up to the counter.

"Good afternoon," the woman, probably in her forties, greeted as I smirked and nodded.

"How are you?" I politely replied.

"I'm good," she smiled, "How can I help you today, Ma'am?" I fumbled with the giftcard in my back pocket before searching for my Target card as I spoke.

"I just wanted to make a payment," I said, finally yanking the thing from its tight slot, "Using the giftcard."

She nodded, taking both cards from my hands before looking up at me, "Three hundred?" I nodded and she swiped my Target card before handing it back to me. I placed the card back into my wallet before she spoke again. "Umm, Miss, there's no payment to be made."

"What?" I asked, confused, "The giftcard doesn't work?" It would be too cruel of a joke for Matthew to play, unless he honestly thought I'd never used it. I felt myself recoiling from embarassment.

"No, that's not it," she assured, "It's just that your bill has been paid. You don't owe Target anything."

"I had about 1500 dollars on that card," I said in disbelief.

"Well, last week somebody made a payment of 1, 456 dollars and 26 cents," she shrugged, "A credit card from a .... Matthew Hanes? That your husband?" My heart lept in my chest as I opened my mouth to speak and closed it right up when nothing came out. "Ma'am, was that unauthorized? Does someone have access to your account without your knowledge? I can put a hold on the card or-"

"No, no," I said, finally, "It's fine. I'm just surprised that he... my husband, paid the whole thing." She laughed and nodded.

"That's the kinda husband I'm talking about," she handed me my giftcard, "Is there anything else you need help with today?" I shook my head, thanked her, and walked right back outside, through the rain, and into my car. I didn't know if I was happy or not. I figured I was still in shock, but reasoned that I shouldn't be. Justin was full of surprises. Matthew was too, but his surprises weren't this expensive. Matthew made me breakfast at absurd hours of the night and Justin brought me Lexus cars and paid my bills. Both were too kind gesture and both made me uncomfortable with butterflies aching my stomach. Both were from one man I missed terribly.

When I finally got home, I ran upstairs and jumped beneath my covers, scaring the shit out of Bob who jetted off my bed and down the hall in blind fear. I didn't bother chasing him, I had a birthday card in my hand and a cell phone in the other. It took me a moment, but I dialed all ten digits with their weirdo area code and pressed the device to my ear. It rang about three and half times before a yawn came through the phone.

"Hello?" A groggy voice followed through and I'd recognize that morning voice anywhere. My stomach knotted up as I pulled my blanket over my lap.

"Hey... It's...umm..."

"Hold on, hold on," he said before I heard some shuffling and sighing. I waited, trying to think of something to say. Like my name, for instance. "You there?"

"Yeah, I'm here," I answered quickly, "It's Sasheirah."

"Oh, hey!" an excited, but hushed tone came from him and he no longer sounded half asleep. "It's so good to hear from you."

"Yeah, sorry if I woke you," I said, "It's like noon though Justin. You need to get on that."

"Actually, darlin', it's nine in the morning in California," I frowned at the news, "Time zones." A light bulb went off in my head and I felt completely embarassed.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, I didn't even think about that," I apologized, "I could call you lat-"

"No, no," Justin immediately dismissed, "Now's fine. I wanna talk to you. Besides, I need to eat and get ready for my run." I nodded, unable to imagine him getting up and running.

"Damn, you can run now, gramps?" I teased, "Look at you acting all brand new." Justin chuckled.

"Yeah, I am," he was smiling and I could hear it in his tone, "I feel brand new, ya know? Still adjusting. It's weird."

"How?" I asked.

"I don't know..." he sighed, "It's like... I remember waking up next to you in your little row home in the middle of north philly everyday for two months straight with Bob at my toes and now... Now I have like ten dogs...a mansion... king size bed-"

"Jessica," I inserted and he paused. I paused. It sounded bitter, even to me.

"Yeah, Jessica," he agreed, "It's just different."

"Yeah, I'm still adjusting too," I offered, "Even Bob's confused, I think."

"Aw, Bob," Justin murmurred nostalgically, "How's my cat doing?"

"My cat is just fine, thank you very much," I joked. "How are you doing?"

"I'm good, I guess," he told me and I felt as uncertain about that as he sounded, "It's a lot harder than I thought though."

"Well, you have to give yourself more time. It's been only a month. You have to take baby steps when you're adjusting to your life again."

"Well, yeah, that too, but I was referring to being away from you," he said, making my heart jump, "I miss your sarcastic, mean, and beautiful self. I keep wanting to pick up the phone and just call you over dumb shit, but I know that I can't... It's not really my place anymore."

"Says who?"

"Says... I don't know," he chuckled to himself, "It just seemed really wrong of me to want to be in your face 24/7 knowing that I did you the way I did."

"You didn't do anything," I assured, "You had to go home. It's where you belong. I know that and I don't blame you for it... I do blame you for not calling for a month though. I thought you forgot about lil' ol' me."

"See, I think I'm doing the right thing by giving you space, but instead, I fuck it up," he ranted, "And how could I forget you, Sash? If I have to call you everyday to let you know that I miss you, I will. I'm so down for that." I laughed at his enthusiasm as I felt my ego boost in his words.

"Well, don't get stalker on me or anything," I joked, "I'm down for a phone call here and there. It doesn't have to be everyday... Maybe every other."

"Done," he finalized, "So... how are you?" I felt the hidden meaning in his questioning and I hesitated to spill my guts out. I didn't want to scare him with my moaning and groaning about being in a state of depression that was as terrible as when Angel left me.

"I'm... alive, I guess," I offered dully, causing Justin to elicit a disapproving grunt.

"Sash..."

"I'm fine, Justin, really," I assured falsely, "I'm still adjusting, but I won't be jumping off any bridges any time soon."

"That's reassuring," he said sarcastically and I rolled my eyes. "You eating and sleeping good?"

"I'm fine, Pops," I smiled, "Relax. You're not that amazing." It was a lie and I'm sure he knew it, but he didn't make a comment on it.

"Well, can I tell you something?"

"Of course." A moment of silence before a sigh.

"I don't know..." he trailed off, his voice sounding like my nephew's five year old self when he's sad and doesn't understand. My chest tightened. I did not want him to be sad.

"What is it?" I gently asked and pressed the phone closer to my ear.

"Maybe it's too soon to actually tell, but... I feel like... I can't."

"You can't?" I asked, confused, "You can't what?"

"Work things out with Jess," he clarified and bit my bottom lip to let out a cheer. I didn't speak for a while, not knowing what I should say. I can't tell him it'll work because I didn't necessarily want it to, but I didn't want to tell him it won't work and to just come back to me because I'd be putting myself out there.

"Oh," I finally offered, and Justin laughed.

"Oh?" he asked, "Wow."

"I just don't know what to say," I answered honestly and he sighed.

"You should say..." he pondered for a moment, "Don't worry, Justin. You and Jess will be fine. Everything will work out if you give it more time. Don't give up."

"Okay, then everything you just said."

"Thanks," he chuckled lightly again, "The messed up part is that I know how bad she wants this. I know how hard she's working. I know how hard I've been trying, but .... It's not the same. And I know that it's never going to be the same, but I don't know if I can settle for having that little glitch in our past. I don't know if I'm a big enough person to say, 'You fucked up, but I can forget it', ya know?"

"Not really," I shrugged, "Angel's whole fiasco's pretty much the center of my hatred."

Justin laughed. "Well, he's a douchebag, but Jess really isn't," he sighed, "I don't know what to do."

"I don't want to give you advice on somethig that I know nothing about," I said, "But I know you're smart and reasonable. Just do what your gut tells you to do and if your heart agrees, than go with it. Don't do something because you don't want to hurt anybody's feelings or you think it's just the right thing to do. Do it because it makes you happy."

"That was beautiful," Justin told me, as I pressed the phone closer to my ear and pretended he was in the room with me instead of thousands of millions away. "But I think I need to clear my head for a little bit. Take a bit of a vacation."

"Vacation?" I laughed, "You think that your family's going to let you out of their sight after your two month disappearance."

"They will if I tell them where I'm going," Justin said, "Besides, I'm a grown ass man."

I laughed at the notion. "Well, have fun with that."

"I will," he assured, "So... you got any room on that couch for me?" I furrowed my brows.

"Why?" I asked, "You making a pit stop before your little vacay?"

"Sweetheart, you are my vacation," Justin chuckled, "I'm coming to see you."

So I readjusted the placement of my furniture. I think that I was just fidgeting at first, but then my couches and television stand and coffee table all became more meaningful. When I woke up this morning, anticipating Justin's arrival, I figured that it was a new day. Yes, my heart was still a bit more jumpy than it would've been if any other friend of mine was coming to visit, but I told myself that things were different and to not get my hopes all up about his little vacationing period. He missed me as a friend and was just stressed out about his 'new' old life and needed a breather. There was no need to go jumping to conclusions and imagining that he was somehow going to magically change his mind about everything and just stay with me.

Even though I knew that would never happen, I went to sleep with the thought of him confessing that he was done with Jessica and I never slept better. I didn't feel guilty either. I felt that he wasn't happy and if he needed to leave her to feel better, why the guilt? Then I stopped myself from entertaining the idea too much. I didn't want to set myself up for extreme disappointment. It was just a friendly visit after a month of separation. He was my friend, a part of my Matthew, and there was so much more to him now that I needed to learn.

I concluded that that's what his vacation would be about: getting to know Justin Timberlake. It was weird to know that the former 'Nsyncer was going to be here. Now that he actually was him and knew it, he seemed almost like a stranger. I became self-conscious about my small home and my ghetto ass neighborhood. I worried that he'd change his mind the moment he reached North Philly, thinking to himself Why am I going to this hood to see this meaningless female? and head off to Barbados instead. I frowned, told myself that he would at least call and make something up, and then sighed. I was just sitting, waiting, and wishing he'd hurry. His flight landed about half an hour ago and he said he was on his way.

As badly as I wanted to see him, my stomach was in nervous knots that made me almost want to call him up and tell him nevermind. I spent way too much time trying to decide on an outfit and I spent even more time trying to deal with my hair and make up. I decided that lip gloss and mascara was enough, with just a hint of concealer to hide the circles beneath my eyes that grew deeper over the last month. I wore a white tank, a yellow cardigan, and a pair of dark blue jeans that made my ass look fabulous. My hair was up in a ponytail and white pearl earrings dotted the tips of my earlobes. It was a simple look that didn't seem like it killed me to put together. It was also warm and bright so I'd look like I was always happy instead of wallowing in my sorrows until I called him three days ago (and he called me everyday afterward).

I looked so at ease I almost fooled myself into thinking that I was as I got up impatiently and walked into the kitchen to make sure the table was set. The romaine lettuce was cut and clean in a big bowl in the fridge, the cheese and dressing beside it. The chicken was being kept warm on the stove. Forks and plates were white, silver, and clean. Everything was spotless, like the rest of my house. Bob was eating in the corner and seemed at ease despite all the crazy moving about and undressing and redressing he witnessed. I guess he long concluded I was crazy and nothing I did phased the poor thing anymore. I furrowed my brows and pondered for a moment if I was crazy. I was letting Justin stay here without a second thought. Being away from him killed me, but seeing his face everyday, knowing that I could never have him, just might be worse.

But then the doorbell sounded and I knew it was too late to rethink my decision. The way my heart leapt in my chest told me that I wouldn't have rethought anyway because I was excited to see the man, even if it tore me apart. I took a deep breath as I walked into the living area. I stopped two feet from the door and waited for a moment, trying to will myself not to cry, scream, jump for joy, or get angry. I couldn't put a finger on any of my emotions, but my mind settled the moment my hand touched the knob and unlocked the latches.

A breeze came in and Bob meowed. I hadn't noticed he followed, but I didn't care. I had a much more brilliant sight in front of me. A six foot, one inch tall man with dark shades on to block out the sun that was breaking through the clouds after so many rainy days. He seemed so perfect in his tan jacket and gray hoodie. His dark blue jeans reminded me of my own and his fresh white Nike's looked like they were just taken out of the box. He had trimmed his hair, but it was still the Justified look that I love.

He smirked for a moment as he looked me over as well before finally breaking out into a full blown grin, white teeth all aligned perfectly. "You look great."

"Ditto," I replied, finally taking notice of the huge black man behind him. Justin must've noticed my face because he chuckled before gestured behind him nonchalantly.

"This is Tiny," he introduced as the man nodded his hello. I waved before looking back at Justin.

"Well, come in," I stepped aside, trying to think of any extra food I might have. I had only made enough for two. I didn't even consider that Justin would bring a bodyguard. Was he staying here too?

"Well, Tiny's not staying," Justin said, taking the duffle bag from the large man's shoulder and placing it on his own, "He's just making sure I get to where I say I am."

"Well, you do have the tendency to run away," Tiny joked and I laughed lightly with the two men in front of me.

"Whatever, man," Justin brushed off, grabbing another piece of luggage from Tiny, "I'll call you when I leave."

"You call me when you step a toe outside of this door," Tiny stated firmly, "Don't try and walk these streets without me."

"Tiny, please," Justin whined, like he was being nagged by his mother, "I got this, man. This isn't my first time here."

"I don't care," Tiny said, "If I catch you out in the street, I'm kickin' yo ass and takin' you home, got it?" Justin rolled his eyes, but nodded.

"Got it." I smiled softly. It was funny to watch the employee school his employer. I didn't know a bodyguard could talk to the celebrity that way. Wasn't it his job to kiss his ass like everybody else? Justin seemed annoyed as Tiny continued to preach about safety and how serious he was about Justin calling him. He jokingly told me to put up the bat signal if Justin tried to escape and I laughed before we said our goodbyes.

"Tiny's funny," I commented once we were left alone. My stomach folded over.

"Yeah, he's a freakin' comedian," Justin said with a swift roll of his eyes, "He's been like that since I was fifteen. That man cannot learn to let me breathe."

"Damn, that long?" I asked, genuinely surprised.

"He was there since I first got big with 'Nsync in Germany," he explained, "He's a good man."

"Seems like it," I said before silence settled over us. Justin took that moment to place his bags on the floor beside the couch. I turned and watched him awkwardly before he straightened and stared back at me.

"So..." he began, rocking on his heels, "This is sufficiently awkward."

"I wouldn't say...awkward," I dumbly argued, "Just... different."

"Yeah, like your living room," he said, taking a thoughtful look around before nodding in approval, "It looks nice."

"Thanks," I smiled, "Thought I'd change it up. I figured that since -" I cut myself off. "Nevermind, it sounds stupid now."

"No, no," Justin smirked, "You have to finish now. You already started." I rolled my eyes and looked at the zipper of his jacket.

"I just thought that since you left, nothing around here changed. I kept it all in the same spot, but now... things are different, so I figured that I'd change the room around to bring about a new... aura. I don't know. It sounds better in my head."

"No, I get it," Justin said simply, "New me, new room." He glanced behind him at the sofa and smiled. "Same comfy couch though." I smiled and nodded.

"Yeah, that thing's not going anywhere," I assured, "Stuck with me through college."

"Good times," he mumbled more to himself than me and my mind ran through every movie night and talk and make out session we had on that damn couch. It seemed so long ago, but the memories were sharp and evident. I could almost feel his lips pressing against mine. I bit my bottom lip nervously as I glanced up from the sofa I had subconsciously began staring at and realized Justin was watching me.

"I spaced," I said sheepishly, "My bad."

"It's cool," Justin waved off, "I just asked what you were cooking. It smells good."

"It's just some chicken for the Ceasar salad," I explained, "Are you hungry?" I was already turning to walk to the kitchen and Justin was trailing behind.

"I could eat." He stopped in the dining area to hang up his coat as I made my way into the kitchen. I hurriedly walked to the fridge and grabbed the lettuce, cheese, and dressing. I placed everything onto the table before grabbing a bowl to place the warm chicken in. I placed that onto the table as well when I finished. Justin was standing at the entrance of the kitchen and I jumped when I saw him there.

"Why are you just standing there?" I asked aloud and he shrugged.

"I was waiting for you to... I don't know," he laughed at himself, "I don't know what I'm allowed to do."

"You're allowed to do whatever you want," I said, "Don't be a stranger." It was easier said than done and Justin knew I was trying to sound nonchalant despite the awkwardness. He nodded and walked further into the kitchen. I took in his baby blue sweater and the white dress shirt underneath. I took in how it fit nicely on his body. I thought about the six pack that was underneath the stylish materials. I missed Matthew's t-shirt and sweats, but Justin's dressy casual attire was appealing as well as he took his seat. I had to clear my throat to make a distraction for myself. I needed to snap out of it.

"This looks good," Justin commented as I set up his plate. I felt like a housewife, tending to her husband. The thought only made me frown deeper.

"Thanks," I said softly. Justin glanced up at me with a bit of concern and I turned my eyes away to grab the cheese. "Parm?" He nodded and I sprinkled before I sat down and passed him the chicken. We ate our salads in silence for a while, the lettuce crunching and the water sipping. It was deafening and made me queasy.

"What's wrong with us?" Justin asked suddenly before laughing, "We're really bad with this in-person thing."

"I know," I agreed, smiling and shaking my head. "This is bad." I laughed, suddenly finding it funny. Justin smiled at me and nodded.

"I think that this is going to be a very silent vacation unless we get on this awkward thing," he said, "It shouldn't be so hard to be around you. We talk fine on the phone, but I guess actually having you here..."

"Yeah," I agreed, "It's a lot harder to look you in the eyes than I realized." My heart dropped a little as Justin pouted and nodded.

"Is it too soon?" he asked innocently, holding my gaze against my will. "Do you want me to go?"

"No," I dismissed quickly, "No... I want you here, but... you know... You're different now."

"I'm not," he argued, "I'm still me."

"You have a whole lotta you I haven't gotten to know yet," I retorted, "I know the Matthew, but the Justin Timberlake guy is new to me."

"Justin Timberlake's not that great," he said, "You should know that better than anyone."

"Actually, I wouldn't know a thing."

"You had me as Matthew, right?" Justin said, "Well that's me. That's who I am in a nutshell. You got the better part of me."

"Matthew didn't wear sweaters and dress shirts," I told him, "Matthew didn't need bodyguards and Matthew never wore cologne." I noticed that his smell was a sweeter pine than Matthew's and I knew it was tainted with cologne.

"Do I stink or something?" Justin's face grew a pink shade and I shook my head.

"No, it doesn't," I assured, "It's all just so new to me. I'm nervous around Justin Timberlake. I can't talk to Justin Timberlake. I don't know Justin Timberlake -"

"Which is exactly why Justin Timberlake is the worst side of me."

"Justin Timberlake seems pretty cool," I gently spoke, "I think I'd like him."

"I dunno if you will..."

"But you are him." He shrugged childishly, picking at his unfinished salad. "I can't imagine... a bad side of you."

"It was just easier when I wasn't him. No drama, or past," he mumbled, "I didn't have cameras in my face or bodyguards on my ass or people asking me a million questions about dumb shit like my favorite drink or color." He rolled his eyes.

"Well... that's what you've always done, right?" I asked in confusion. The boy was rich, famous, and talented. If I could have that, I'd tell somebody my favorite drink or color. It didn't seem so bad to have a picture taken, especially if you looked as good as he did.

"It gets really old, really fast." He took a bite of his salad and swallowed. "Tiny and I had to outrun the damn Paps at the airport. They weren't as bad as LA though. By the time we got halfway down the Roosevelt Boulevard, we lost them."

"Good," I said simply, not knowing how else to comment. I stared at my plate and I felt his eyes still on me. I tried not to look up. I wasn't as good with the staring as he was.

"I don't mean to sound like a crybaby about this stuff. I know that I have a lot and I should be grateful - which I am - but sometimes..." He trailed off and I looked up to see he was still staring. Now I had been caught and couldn't turn my head.

"Sometimes what?" I inquired after a moment. He shrugged again and looked down at his plate.

"Sometimes... I wish I were just normal."

"You are normal, man," I smiled lightly, "You don't have three heads."

"You'd think I did the way people scream or take pictures or follow me around, always wondering and curious and waiting for me to do anything. I can't even cough without US Weekly reporting I have a case of SARS or something." I laughed out loud and he fought his own smile before finally chuckling along with me. "I'm glad that SARS is funny to you."

"Shut up," I joked, giving him a playful shove, "I guess it's just funny because it's true. I read some of those tabloids and they are ridiculous."

"Ugh," Justin groaned, "Don't read that mess."

"I was in line at the market," I explained, "I didn't actually buy them."

"Well, that's comforting, I guess," Justin smirked, "But what I meant by the normal thing is that... I just want to be able to do what I want, when I want, wherever I want with whoever I want, ya know? I can't curse people out because I'll look like a drug addicted Disney kid gone wrong. I can't talk to another woman in public who isn't family because I'm all of a sudden having an affair or I'm the father of our love child. Or I'm gay now because Lance is gay which means all of 'Nsync has to be gay."

"The synchronized dancing and leather pants didn't help either," I added and he laughed and shook his head.

"Yeah, that didn't help," he agreed, "But you know what I'm saying, right?"

"Yeah, I guess I can understand where you're coming from," I told him, "But... It comes with the territory, right? I mean, you get a mansion and ten cars out of it."

"I only have eight cars," Justin corrected and I raised a brow. "What?"

"You have a eight cars?" He nodded without a hint of sarcasm. "Why the hell do you need eight cars?" He shrugged, seemingly embarrassed by my question.

"They're all nice," he shrugged. "I drive them all from time to time. And Trace burrows."

"It must be nice," I said, shaking my head in disbelief, "I don't think I'd know what to do if I could buy eight cars." I laughed a little. "That's Oprah money."

"That's chump change compared to Oprah," Justin smiled, "It's great though. I know that material things aren't everything though. I know that there's so much more to be grateful for, even if you don't have much. I learned that from you."

I rolled my eyes, freigning insult. "Well, damn, I didn't know I had so little," I said, "I thought I was doing okay for myself." Justin's cheeks turned rosey and I realized I liked making him blush.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean it offensively," I raised a brow and he stammered on, "I - I meant that...that you don't have eight cars. Hell, your Buick barely got around, but it was great being here with you. It was nice knowing that I didn't have to buy you all these expensive things. You were the one buying things for me. What you have isn't a mansion, but it's yours and at least you know that you're the only reason why people love you. You and who you are as a person, not a celebrity, is what gets you hours at work and gets you the friends that you have. People aren't smiling at you or joking around with you because they have to. They do it just 'cause, ya know?"

"I don't get why you sound so sad," I pouted, "I mean, I get that there are some shallow-ass gold diggers just waiting to get in on your life, but you are really popular. You're singin' some hook or chorus on everybody's songs."

"That's music," he brushed off, "That's work. You know how you have co-workers that you talk to, but you wouldn't necessarily invite out to dinner on the regular?" I nodded. "Well, that pretty much sums up my whole social circle. I got friends back home and that's really about it. Even half of them have sold me out. If I didn't have such a great family... I don't know, things would be a lot more lonely."

"Well," I began, feeling bad for the sad man before me. "I hope you know that I'm your friend. A real, invite you for dinner, sleepover anytime, eat all my food for free friend." He chuckled and I smiled at him softly before I watched as he glanced down at my hand. It took only a second, but his hand seemed to move so slowly and hesitantly before laying on top of mine. He gave my fingers a squeeze and a chill shook me. I glanced up at him to see if he felt it, but he only smirked in my direction with shy eyes.

"I know that," he said, "And I know you hate compliments and stuff, but I really think you're amazing for being so different. I can trust you. I do trust. That's a lot for me to say and feel, and I can only hope it's mutual."

"I trust you," I assured, too quickly. He smiled.

"Good," he told me before his thumb brushed over my skin. I tried to act like it didn't phase me, but I just wanted to kiss him as he sat across from me, looking like he knew exactly what I was thinking. "I've got something for you." I blinked, trying to catch his said words.

"What?" He let go of my hand and I was so saddened that it shocked me before he stood and left the room. The moment he was gone, I let out a breath and rolled my eyes. I was being ridiculous. I needed to relax. Don't be stupid, girl. Stop it now, I told myself over and over, but my heart was beating at an uncontrollable pace. I couldn't help how I felt, and it was making me sick.

"Close your eyes," Justin called from the dining room. I did as told without hesitation. "You closed them?" he asked and I nodded before realizing he couldn't see me.

"They're closed," I assured before I heard his slow, careful steps. I squeezed my eyes tightly to try and keep my excitement down. I don't know why I was so excited. What else could he possibly give me? "Okay... open."

"What are those?" I asked, staring at the dark blue jeans he held up in outstretched arms with such pride on his smiling face.

"These are William Rast jeans," he told me, "Made to fit curveous women with .... noticable asses to match. It's a new line of jeans now. I talked to Trace about it, so we're going to make them stretch, since you always complained about jeans without stretch and they'll come in petite, regular, and long. Plus we're making them range from sizes 0 to 22." He waited, I blinked. "Aren't you going to say anything?"

"Why do you remember everything I bitch about?" I asked and he shrugged.

"I dunno," he smiled, "You inspire me, I guess." My heart quivered. Yes, quivered, and he didn't even say much. Then again, a man has never been 'inspired' by me before. I shook my head and smiled.

"Well, in that case, let me have my jeans." I stood to retrieve them, but he yanked them back before I could touch the fabric.

"There's a catch though," he said with a playful glint in his eyes. I cautiously watched him as if he were going to attack at any moment.

"What?" I inquired and he smiled.

"I want you to be our ad girl," he grinned and I furrowed my brows.

"You want me to be your what?"

"Look, we have this whole 'real women' idea going on," he began excitedly, "We're going to have these commercials and ads featuring real, beautiful women who are going to complain about the average jeans they wear, like you and the whole stretch thing. Then you'll wear these bad boys and say 'William Rast understands me' or something like that and BAM! We sell out."

"Like...seriously?" I asked dumbly and he nodded.

"Aren't you excited?" I furrowed my brows. "No?" He looked so disappointed, but I couldn't change my face. Ad girl? For William Rast? Justin Timberlake's jean company? T.V.? Millions of people looking at me?

"I don't exactly want to be the 'it' girl for William Rast."

"Why not?" he complained, "I thought you'd be down for this."

"Why would I be down for this?"

"Because I'm going to pay you and you'll get free stuff. Photoshoots and stuff... Fun?" I shook my head no and he sighed. "Come on... I can put Clare in the commercials too." I knew Clarissa would jump at the chance to be on television, but I was not down for the public.

"I don't know..." I mumbled, "Let me think about it." He pouted, but nodded.

"Okay... I guess," he sadly replied, "But here." He handed me the jeans and checked them out. The tan stitching of the WR was nice and the fabric stretched. The lining was smoother than normal jeans and I held them up to my waist.

"They'll fit," I announced.

"I remember your size." I raised a brow.

"How is that anyway?" I asked, "I never told you what size I wear."

"I had a lot of time on my hands, sitting around... I had to do something."

"You looked through my clothes, weirdo?" He laughed.

"No..." I raised brow and he turned away. "Anyhoot, what are we doing today?"

"Smooth subject change," I teased, "But I was thinking Scrabble and movies. I didn't really plan on going out, but if you want-"

"No, insides fine," Justin told me.

"But you're dressed so nicely," I complimented and he shrugged.

"It's just the dress shirt," he mumbled self-consciously, "Is it too much? I just didn't know what to wear..."

"No, it's fine," I assured.

"Are you sure? The sweater's too much, right? Too much blue?" I laughed and shook my head.

"Are you sure you're not gay?" I asked and gave me a bored look.

"Where's the Scrabble?" he asked as I laughed.

"Way to avoid the issue."

"You're an ass," he smiled, "Always trying to get on me. Damn, you couldn't even give me twenty-four hours of a tease-free day."

"I'm sorry, you're just an easy target," I said, beginning to clear the table.

"Fine, then I'll just go home," he whined, helping me clean up. I bumped him with my hip playfully as he smiled to himself.

"You ain't going anywhere," I joked, "Not until you finish these dishes."

"Oh, that's what it is?" I nodded before he chucked a piece of lettuce at me. We laughed when I failed to block it and it stuck to the side of my face.

"Asshole," I said, throwing a piece of chicken at him. Of course, he caught it before it could stain his Ralph Lauren sweater, popping it into his mouth greedily.

"Don't ever throw food at mean, it's pointless," he told me, "I love food too much to let it go to waste." I shook my head, piling up the plates.

"Then you'll love cleaning up plates for food," I said, handing them all to him. He reluctantly took them from my hands.

"I'm a guest, you know," he complained, "This is against the rules."

"You're not a guest," I corrected, "You're a eat my food for free and then wash the dishes kinda friend." He playfully rolled his eyes before I slauntered out of the kitchen, smiling to myself.

My heart was too excited. I forgot about Justin and his fancy sweaters and for a moment, I had Matthew. This vacation was certainly looking up.

------------------------

The day went by quickly and we had finished watching 'Knocked Up' before one that morning. It was dark and cold downstairs as the blue screen appeared and Justin placed the DVD back into its case. I stretched and yawned as he sat down beside me on the sofa.

"You got work tomorrow?" he asked and I shook my head.

"I switched some shifts to get the next three days off," I said, "It's only reasonable."

"I guess, but you didn't have to do that for me," Justin said.

"It gives me three days of freedom in a row and then I have a mid-shift Thursday and an early shift Friday. It all works out fine." He nodded before we grew silent. The sleeping part I didn't really want to discuss. I, of course, wanted him to be upstairs with me, but during the entire course of the day, he made no effort to put his bags upstairs. I didn't want to be the one to ask and he didn't want to be the one to ask either.

"So... you going to bed now?" I shrugged.

"I could sleep," I said before quickly adding. "Need help with your bags?" He looked at his luggage and then back at me.

"Umm..." he shrugged. "I think they're fine down here, ya know? Easier in case I need something in the middle of the night."

"Well, it'll be kinda hard then, wouldn't it? Your bags will be all the way down here and you'd have to get up and walk downstairs to them." That was direct enough and he shrugged again.

"I didn't think I was sleeping upstairs tonight," he said, "I don't mind the couch."

"I'm not going to let you sleep down here," I argued, "It's too uncomfortable, remember?"

"Well, I'm healed up, so I can deal." I felt my spirits dropping down.

"You seriously want to sleep down here?" And not upstairs with me? I wanted to add.

"I just think that... It's...better...ya know?" I wanted to tell him I didn't know at all, but I paused and nodded.

"If that's what you want." I waited and he just nodded before I gave up and stood.

"Well...goodnight," Justin told me, standing up as well. We stood for a moment, the awkwardness from earlier back full force. I didn't know what to do. I wanted a hug, but a part of me was mad and embarrassed by his subtle rejection. Then I was mad at myself for thinking he'd be willing to jump into bed with me, especially so soon, even if we were just sleeping.

"Goodnight," I replied quickly before he gave me a brief, one-armed hug. It was nothing compared to the warm bear ones Matthew always buried my entire being in. It was hard to believe that it was that same body that could hold me so fully.

I jogged up the stairs and walked to my bedroom, leaving the door unlocked with the false hope that he'd come upstairs and lay with me. I was such a loser and I was sure Justin decided it was 'better' to sleep alone downstairs in fear that my crazy, desperate self would attempt to rape him in his sleep.

A million thoughts ran through my mind, just like the first day he slept on that couch. This time, however, I didn't fear robbery. Instead, I feared that he was silently packing and sneaking out of the house. I tried to clear my head, but it would not shut up. I knew that sleep was too far gone and it was going to be one of those nights.

The next morning, I woke to birds chirping outside. It was sunny as hell and my eyes tightened to block out the light. I stretched and yawned as a gentle tapping on the door pulled my attention.

"Yeah?" I grunted tiredly before Justin spoke from behind the door.

"Are you decent?" I began to wipe my face and readjust my hair.

"Yeah, I'm decent," I said, sitting up as the door crept open before he finally came into view with a tray of food in his hands.

"Are you hungry?" he asked, raising the tray as his offering and I nodded.

"I could definitely eat," I told him as he made his way over to my bed. I scooted over a bit, giving him room to sit as he adjusted the tray over my lap. I grabbed a piece of pineapple from the mixed fruit bowl in the corner and popped it into my mouth. He smiled at me, all cute in his fitting white t-shirt and navy blue basketball shorts.

"You should really buy one of these," he said, tapping the tray, "Makes breakfast so much easier in bed."

"I was wondering where you got this from," I told him, eating a grape, "You brought it with you?"

"No, Tiny went out and got it for me," he shrugged off.

"You didn't need to get him up all early to get me a tray," I said, "I could've dragged myself out of bed."

"Early?" he laughed, "It's almost three in the afternoon. I came upstairs to make sure you were still breathing like ten times already." I almost choked on the piece of cantaloupe in my mouth.

"Three?" I asked in disbelief and he waved me off.

"You're exhausted, I can see it in your face," he told me, eating a strawberry after dipping it into the little yogurt bowl, "You need to sleep. That's what a day off is for." I touched my face self-consciously, wondering how horrible I must look if he could see my exhaustion. I frowned.

"I didn't mean to leave you bored for that long," I said, "I'm not much of a hostess, am I?"

"Naw, it's cool," he assured, "I slept in 'til eleven, worked out a bit, cooked some food for me, watched t.v. and then made you this after I walked to the little corner store. You didn't have any eggs."

"Does Tiny know about that walk?" I teased.

"Whatever, Tiny's not my dad," he said, "But don't tell him, please." I laughed out loud and Justin joined me as he stole another strawberry.

"You remember that I hate strawberries, right?" I asked and he nodded.

"Yep." I gave him a look and he laughed. "I put them in there for me. I got a little hungry waiting on you, so we're sharing all this food." I looked down at the tray with eggs, sausage, bacon, toast, fruit and yogurt, a glass or orange juice, and a small bowl of grits.

"Did you actually make all this?" I asked suspiciously and he nodded.

"I can cook breakfast food," he said, "It's basically already made. The sausage is brown n' serve. The eggs you flip over a few times. Fruit you cut, yogurt you buy. Orange juice you pour, toast you toast, and grits... Grits was the hardeset part."

"It's nothing but the grits itself, some milk, and butter. Salt or sugar to taste."

"Easy for you to say," Justin pouted, "My grits were either liquified or drier than the Sierra." I shook my head.

"That's why you're so bony now," I said, "You're dying from starvation and eating dry ass grits."

"I''m not bony," he argued, standing up and lifting his shirt. A six pack on him and a heart attack for me. I looked away. "That's all man muscle!" He laughed to himself, completely unaware of what he just did to my libido. I stuffed some bacon into my mouth and he stole a piece of sausage.

"Congratulations, you won this round," I joked, trying to sound normal as he took a seat back on the bed. It sunk down from his weight and I held tray steady as he settled. We munched quietly for a moment and it was still a little awkward. I sighed, missing when it wasn't this hard to be quiet with him.

"What's wrong?" Justin asked with a mouthful of fruit and yogurt. I wrinkled my nose.

"Nice visual there," I said sarcastically as he shyly covered his mouth with his hand before mumbling an apology. "And nothing's wrong. It's just.. quiet." He grunted in response. More silence.

"Maybe we should try and talk about... something," he suggested and I gave him a bored look.

"That's very good, Justin, I never thought of that." My sarcasm only made him smirk.

"I miss that," he told me, "Trace is the only person who's remotely sarcastic back at home. Everybody's so... in your face."

"Sarcasm is immaturity wrapped up in one big ball of bitter rhetoric."

"Sarcasm is hilarious," Justin simplified and I rolled my eyes. "One of these days, they'll get stuck that way."

"Stop being so... you and maybe I'll stop."

"I thought you liked me," Justin mumbled as he scooped a spoon of grits in his mouth. I nibbled on some egg.

"I do like who you are, but you still annoy me with your presence," I explained, "It's one of those weird... love/hate things." It was extremely difficult to use the 'l' word around him and he seemed to tense up when it left my mouth.

"Well, hopefully more positives than negatives because I really want you to do this ad thing." I furrowed my brows at the abrupt change of topic, but followed along.

"I dunno," I mumbled, "I'm not really a ... camera person."

"Why not?" he asked.

"Because taking my picture and being on ads and commercials and letting millions see me...I don't know, prancing around in some jeans and a tank isn't really... appealing. I'm an indoor, introverted woman."

"You're funny and beautiful and very... real. That's what I want," he said and I wondered if he wanted that for more than just his ad. "Sash, you're perfect for this. I invisioned this with you. I made those jeans for you, for goodness sake. You have to at least do this ad. Just once."

"I appreciate everything you've done, I really do, but I'm pretty sure there's plenty of real, funny, beautiful girls ready and willing to strut their stuff in your new stretch jeans."

"I know," he said, "But there will be other ads and commercials."

"You're not going to let this go, are you?" He shook his head and I sighed and rolled my eyes. "And Clare can be in it?" He nodded. "I guess..." He was practically squealing. "...I'll think about it after I talk to Clare."

"Ugh..." Justin groaned, "You're incredibly frustrating."

"Thanks," I said, "But when does this ad and commercial shit start anyway?"

"As soon as you're ready," Justin told me, "You have the jeans already. All I need is you on a plane to LA and then in those jeans." I looked up from the tray and at him. He wiggled his brows comically and I laughed and ate a sausage.

"I'm leaning toward yes," I offered and he smiled.

"That's good enough for me," he told me, "For now."

"For now..." I mumbled before continuing chowing down on the meal I was sharing with a man I barely knew and knew so well. It was still strange to think and know that I loved him anyway. That I loved that there was another side to him because I could love that side too. I knew I could and I didn't even understand the first thing about him. I was a fool and I didn't care.

When did I get so stupid?

----------------------------------

"Ha!" I taunted, "Yo' ass is owned, Timberlake." I proudly picked up two of his black game pieces and kinged myself. My red pieces were devouring the checker board as I wiped out his black pieces. He frowned at me before shaking his head. He looked like an angry little kid as we sat on the living room floor. A floral printed blanket provided some cushion beneath us as we played our intense checkers game - which I was winning.

"I don't want to play anymore." He flipped the board over, sending the chips flying in all directions as I gasped and threw three red game pieces at him. He laughed and tossed one back before gathering up the pieces strewed all over the place. I crossed my arms over my chest and pouted. He smiled to himself and avoided looking at me as I burned a whole into the side of his face.

"That was not funny," I whined, "That was the only game I was beating you in today and you ruined it." He shrugged.

"I'm not that great of a loser," he told me, smiling, "It's part of my uncontrollable male competitive nature." He paused his cleaning up to look at me and grin. I bit my bottom lip to hold back my smile, but failed miserably. "See, that's the smile I want."

"Don't talk to me like that," I said, "Just because I smiled, it doesn't mean you're off the hook." He stood to retrieve a game piece from behind my back before plopping down beside me. My living room space was limited and I immediately felt my heart tighten when he sat down so close that his entire left side was brushing my right. He leant back a little, putting his hand behind my butt, but not touching me. His face was next to mine and I had to lean away in order to see him.

"I'll make it up to you," he said, his breath tickling my face. It smelt like the Heinekin beer he was drinking during our game and I reached for my own beside me. I took a gulp and he took the bottle from my lips to take a sip as well.

"How?" I asked curiously as he handed me back the green glass bottle. I took another swing, pathetically happy that his lips had touched exactly where mine had.

"I'm going to take you out to dinner tonight."

"You sick of my cooking already?" I asked as he reached up and wiped the corner of my mouth.

"Beer," he smiled, answering my questioning eyes, "And no, I'm not sick of your delicious cooking skills. I just think it's nice out and we're suppose to be up to almost fifty something degrees tonight. We should give you and the kitchen a break. Besides, Tiny was telling me about this Italian place he ate at the other day. It's on 7th and Chestnut."

I thought about the general area for a moment before the restaurant came to mind. I frowned. "LaScala's?"

"Yeah," Justin confirmed, "You been?"

"I've walked by," I said, "It's like eighty bucks a plate. I'll pass."

"Sash," Justin said, "You know I got you."

"I don't care what you've got, Justin, that's a ridiculous amount of money to spend on one measely meal."

"They give you a lot of food according to Tiny." He leaned in and whispered, "You know that's a lot of Tiny says." I smiled and raised a brow.

"You would not say that shit to Tiny's face."

"Damn straight I wouldn't," he admitted, making me laugh, "Tiny would fuck my shit up. I'm a smart ass sometimes, but I would never risk my life like that."

"Good thinking there," I told him, taking another gulp of my beer.

"Well, you down or what?"

"I really don't feel comfortable spending that much money on dinner," I reinerated. He gave me a bored look.

"Sash, I got it," he stressed, "Jesus, woman, I'm shacking up in your place all last minute and you feed me and make sure I'm comfortable everyday without a second thought. Let me treat you to one stupid dinner. Please?" I pouted in thought and he poked my side, making me giggle.

"Fine, but just tonight," I said, "No more expensive dinners after this."

"Fine, it's a deal," he assured me, "Mickey D's for now on and I won't let you supersize it." I rolled my eyes as he chuckled beside me.

"You sure singing's for you?" I asked, "You really should be a comedian, I swear."

"Your sarcasm about my comedic skills is hurtful," he melodramatically put his hand over his heart, "I happen to pride myself on my sense of humor and my ability to make others laugh."

"I happen to not care," I teased, finishing off my drink before placing the bottle against his chest. I held my hand there, feeling his heart beating as I looked him in the eye, "Why are you still lazying around, Buddy? Don't you owe me dinner?" He placed his hand on top of mine, pressing down a little to the point where I couldn't move away like I intended on doing the moment his skin came in contact with mine. He smirked and my heart jumped a little. The bastard knew. He had to know.

"Sasheirah..." he called me gently and I tried my best to breathe normally. The house was silent and tense and suffocating... But he looked so relaxed. Like it was normal for him to hold my against his chest and say my name like there was nothing else left to say. I don't even think I blinked.

"If you don't mind, Mr. Timberlake, I'd like to get my hand back," I informed him smartly, "But keep the bottle. I just wanted you to throw it away because I don't feel like walking to the kitchen." I watched as his eyes flashed down to my lips before looking back up at me. I tensed up more. He wasn't seriously thinking about doing that, was he?

"Whatever you say," he told me, releasing my hand from its imprisonment and taking the glass bottle hostage instead. I took the moment to stand and dust myself off. Justin stood with me, turning to walk to the kitchen as I bent over to fold the blanket.

I furrowed my brows, confused as I brought the corners of the comforter together. What the hell was that?

Before I even got started, Justin reappeared, packing up the game completely and tucking it away beneath my sofa. He asked if he could shower and I told him to help himself after he dug through his unpacked luggage for newer clothes and jogged upstairs. I sighed and trailed up after he had securely locked the bathroom door behind him. I entered my room and closed the door, making a beeline for my closet. I didn't know how nice the place was and I wasn't going to wear anything too fancy either. It took about twenty years, but I ended up with dark blue skinny jeans, a nice top, and some flats. There was a knock at the door.

"Yeah?" I called.

"I'm done in the bathroom," Justin informed me before I heard him jogging down the stairs. I needed a second to gather my things before I went down the hall to shower and dress. Within twenty-five minutes, I was spritzing on perfume as the finishing touch before meeting Justin downstairs. The moment I saw him, I wanted to punch him for looking so good. He was dressed in a white button up, rolled up to his elbows, a pinstripe, sleeveless vest, and some dark gray slacks. I looked down at myself self-consciously as he clipped his watch, which probably cost as much as my home, around his wrist.

"Hey," he greeted as he looked up as caught me gawking like an idiot, I'm sure, "You look good." I rolled my eyes.

"Okay, GQ, keep it up." He laughed.

"GQ? Really?" he asked, glancing down at himself. "Thanks, I guess."

"Thanks, I guess..." I mocked jokingly and he adjusted his vest over himself. "Should I go change?" I asked, my beige top suddenly looking boring compared to his little ensemble.

"No," he told me, "You look fine. Better than fine..." I raised a brow, walking up to him to fix his collar.

"What's better than fine?" I asked, smoothing out invisible wrinkles before reclaiming a proper distance from him.

"Beautiful," he answered, "You look really beautiful."

"Shut up," I said dismissively as I turned away to grab my keys from the coffee table behind him.

"Okay, okay..." he surrendered, "But I mean it."

"I'm sure you do," I said as nonchalantly as possible despite the cartwheel rolling in my chest. I didn't want nor need compliments from him. I wanted my dinner and I wanted to get over him. I told myself a million times that we were just eating dinner and nothing more, but as he helped me with my coat, held the door for me when we exited the house as Tiny pulled, and also held the door to a shiny black Escalade, I couldn't help but imagine that our outting was a...date.

It hurt to think that I was that sad, but I was, and it made me giggle inside. I knew I was an idiot and it would bite me in that ass eventually, but I decided to enjoy the ride in the car next to Justin, our knees bumping as he sat next to me and casually draped his arm over the back of my seat. Downtown was much more beautiful at night. The orangy-yellow street lights in combination with the lit up buildings brightened up all of city hall. There were so many people enjoying the spring-like weather tonight and I was nervous, for the first time, that I was out with Justin Timberlake.

Mr. Timberlake, on the other hand, looked complete unphased by all the faces as Tiny pulled up to the corner of 7th and Chestnut streets and got out of the car. Justin slid over to the other side and unlocked the backseat door. I scooted over as well once he got out and he held the door for me as Tiny stood tall by the door, huge and intimidating. He held my hand and the small of my back as I slipped out and laughed when I tripped a little. I subtly pinched his side and he pouted like it actually hurt before holding my elbow and guiding me into the restaurant. I didn't miss the glances and prolonged stares of people eating outside and I certainly didn't miss the widened eyes of the hostess at the counter when Justin smiled and asked for a table for two. I looked behind us at Tiny who had silently been following us and he gave me an answer before I asked.

"I'm going across the street with my family to eat," he nodded towards the window to a place called Jones, "I'll be able to see you from there." I nodded, although a part of me felt a bit worried. Was Justin being hunted down or something?

"You ready?" Justin asked and I turned back to him. He was smiling and dazzling and I all my worry was gone. I nodded and he took my hand as we followed a young waiter. The place around the bar was crowded and as we squeezed by, Justin held my hand tighter. I held on too, getting a good feel of his hand in mine.

"Here we are," the waiter said, placing us at a window seat; a perfect view of the Jones restaurant across the street. I wondered if this was all planned.

"Can we get a bottle of white wine?" Justin requested and the waiter proudly puffed out his chest.

"The Santa Margherita -"

"Pinot Grigio?" Justin excitedly interrupted and I was confused as fuck. The waiter nodded and smiled.

"Yes, sir," he confirmed and Justin smiled.

"I'll take." The waiter nodded and handed us our menus before walking away. Justin browsed over the options as I stared down at the menu in horror.

"The chicken parm is thirty-dollars," I whispered and Justin looked up at me and shrugged.

"I got you," he reinerated and I shook my head.

"I'm getting water," I argued, shutting the menu. He looked up and gave me a bored expression.

"I just got us a 150 dollar bottle of wine," Justin informed me and I gasped.

"You what?" I said sharply and he quickly glanced to see if anybody heard.

"That's not bad, it's good stuff," he stated, "But now that I ordered wine, you have to eat. You can't not eat and enjoy that wine. Besides, you'll end up getting drunk as hell and I'll have to take advantage of you." I blinked and cracked a smile.

"I hate you," I said simply before picking up the menu and covering my face. I was trying to hide the smile I was fighting off of my face and I could hear Justin chuckle to himself from the other side of the rectangular barrier. I decided on the cheese ravioli (only fifteen dollars, thank you very much, Mr. Timberlake) just as the waiter returned with an ice buck and a bottle of white wine. Justin thanked him and I smiled as he poured me a flute. He did the same for Justin before taking our orders. When he walked away, Justin kicked my foot beneath the table gently.

"Cheese ravioli?" he asked with raised brows. I shrugged, adjusting my nakin on my lap.

"It's what I was in the mood for," I told him nonchalantly and the more I thought about it, the more it was true.

"It's also the cheapest thing on the menu," he pointed out and I gave him an annoyed glance.

"Why can't you appreciate the fact that I don't want to spend all your money?" I asked.

"I do appreciate the fact that you're not moochin' off me, but, Sash, I'm offering you a night of splurging and you're denying me the one thing I can do for you."

"How is buying me dinner the only thing you can do for me?" I asked, "You made me breakfast this morning. That was doing something."

"Yeah, but you had to be out like you got shot by a tranquilizer gun for me to get it done," he complained and I pouted.

"That's not true," I weakly argued and he raised a brow.

"If you had been awake, would you have let me make you breakfast?" I looked up and he was looking dead at me with a 'don't even try to lie' face. I figured that there was no point in lying over something so petty.

"Why would I let you if you're my guest?" I asked.

"I'm not your guest," he said, "I'm your 'come to your house unexpected so I try and make you breakfast to balance things out' kinda friend." He smiled at me for emphasis and I laughed lightly.

"I guess you're right," I said, "I'm sorry, but I'm so used to just..."

"Taking care of yourself?" Justin supplied.

"I was going to say I'm so used to just being cheap, but I guess taking care of myself sounds better." Justin laughed and picked up his glass. I followed suit.

"To our... 'cheap, stubborn, independent-"

"Money spending, annoying, crash at my crib-" I added before being cut off.

"But with good hearts in the right place and cute faces-"

"Godforsaken word using-" I added again.

"Completely adorable and unbearably wonderful' kinda friendship." Our glasses clinked and he held my gaze as he both took a swig. I looked away first just as a vibration caught my attention. Justin was already in his pockets, pulling out a sleek motorola and a bigger Sprint phone. He explained earlier that the Motorola was business and Sprint was personal. He looked at the Sprint phone, pressed a button, and placed both phones back into his jacket's pockets. His face was frump suddenly and he sipped some more wine before clearing his throat and refilling his glass.

"What's wrong?" I asked. He shrugged and looked up at me, offering a tiny smile.

"Nothing." I was not the least bit convinced and him sipping on that wine like it was water was bothering me.

"Who was that?" I pried and he shrugged.

"It was just Jessica," he stated nonchalantly and I bit my bottom lip, looking down at my empty plate. I wish there was food to distract me. There was no sound besides the restaurant's and the people's hummed noises. A clattering of spoons and a loud laugh.

"Why didn't you answer?" I asked again and he shrugged.

"I'm eating with you," he said simply.

"We haven't gotten our food yet," I argued.

"Sash, I'm going to call her later," he snapped, "Just relax."

"I am relaxed," I snapped back and he looked down and adjusted his napkin on his lap as well, "I was just wondering why you I haven't seen you talk to her since you been here."

"I called her this morning when you were sleeping," he told me, "And I talked to her when I first landed yesterday. She's fine."

"I didn't say she wasn't," I mumbled, feeling foolish, "I just wanted to know."

"Don't worry about it," he assured, "We're fine."

"She was okay with you coming down here and everything?" I asked, realizing that I had never asked.

"She knows where I am and she knows I'm visiting a friend," he shrugged. "Not much else for her to know."

I looked up at him and the waiter came out of nowhere before I could speak. "Your ravioli," he placed the plate in front of me, "And your seafood alfredo, sir." We both said thank you and he walked away, leaving us in silence again. The food looked and smelled wonderful, but I could think to eat. All I heard in my head was the word 'friend' and it was taunting me.

"So..." I began, "She knows that I exist, right?"

"What do you mean?" Justin asked, not bothering to look up as he peppered his food.

"I mean... does she know that you're staying with Sasheirah Hanes in the middle of north Philly, or does she know you're in Philly seeing your friend?"

"She knows that I'm seeing my friend from Philadelphia," he smartly replied, "Why does it matter?"

"Because if she doesn't know who your friend in Philly is, that means that-" I cut myself off, realizing that I was talking without much thought until nearly the end. I couldn't feel bad because he didn't mention he had a thing with me and was coming back to rekindle our friendship because that would be the last thing any man trying to fix a broken relationship would want to say, but I couldn't help but feel kind of cheapened by it all. He couldn't even give my name to the woman. Was Sash too much to say?

"It doesn't mean anything," Justin told me, "Sash, Jess... Jess would just freak out or something if she knew I was spending time with another woman, especially now."

"Well, I would be a little worried if my boyfriend went all the way across the country to see some 'friend' of his too, especially if I knew they had some type of ... history together."

"Why make her worry then, huh?" he asked, "Why not just enjoy my vacation here and enjoy this food and this wine and this time right now?"

"Because I don't want you sneaking around to hang out with me," I complained, "If we're such good friends, then your girlfriend should know about me."

"Sash, please," Justin said as calmly as possible, "I came here to get away from all the questions. I just want to spend some time with you."

"I'm not saying you have to go, I'm just asking for some type of... I dunno." I sighed and picked at my ravioli. "Things were easier when it was just you and me. That's all I'm saying."

"I agree," he sighed as well, "I think that it's too soon for everything to just be laid out on the table. I gotta get a lot situated at home and I gotta keep you in my life too. When I got home, I didn't really get a moment to sit down and discuss everything with everybody. Yes, I avoided the topic of you and I... at least the whole...us...thing. It didn't seem like a good idea to go, 'oh, by the way, Jess, I met this amazing woman, but I'm still here, trying to work it out with you, so you better get your shit together', ya know? I did tell her that you took me in and we would keep in contact."

"Okay, fine," I said, "I don't really want to talk about this anymore, so if we could very subtly change the topic..." Justin laughed.

"I think announcing a subject change defeats the purpose of being subtle."

"I think you should just eat your alfredo before I do," I said, forking up a shrimp from his plate. "Too late." He stole a ravioli in retaliation as I ate the shrimp before greedily stealing another one. We ended the depressing conversation on a positive note and devoured our supper. Justin a generous tip at the table before we gathered our thing and left. Like clock work, Tiny appeared from the Jones restaurant, a way short and way smaller middle aged woman behind him and a boy who had to be at least thirteen not too far behind. We crossed the street to them and Justin put the young boy into a brief headlock before giving the woman a kiss on the cheek.

"This is my wife Sandra and this knuckle head is Andre," Tiny introduced, "Say hi, boy."

"Hey," Andre mumbled. I waved and then shook hands with Sandra.

"So... You and Justin, huh?" Sandra inquired, smiling at us both. I looked at Justin and he smiled awkwardly.

"No, not at all," he denied, "We're friends. I'm with Jessica, remember?" Sandra made a face like she really didn't know before Tiny nudged her. She smiled.

"Right...Jessica," she said, "Well, Tiny's taking you guys home, right? Dre and I are gonna head back to the hotel." She gave Tiny a hug and a kiss before we all said our goodbyes. Tiny led the way to a back parking lot down the block of LaScala's as his family walked in the opposite direction. When I walked down the block, Justin strolled beside me, looking straight ahead. Tiny was talking to his bluetooth at some unknown person, but other than that, the busy sounds of streets and people hummed all around us.

"Oh my god..." A whispered sentence caught my ear as two college aged girls walked past Justin and I, staring at Justin before finally stopping. They called out to him and he stopped, smiled, and confirmed his identity. They giggled and jogged back up to us, asking for a picture. I was the photographer, using a complicated camera phone with flash to steal the shot. They thanked us and squealed before walking away. Justin smiled to himself and shook his head as we continued our walk.

"Look how cute you are with your fans," I teased, "How many times a day does that happen?"

"In LA?" he asked and I nodded, "I probably wouldn't even be able to tell you. The paps are the vultures. My fans can't even get a good look at me because they usually circle around me. It's really annoying."

"Hmm..." I mumbled thoughtfully, "Sounds scary."

"You'll probably have to endure it one of these days," he said before turning to smile down at me, "When you come to LA for a visit. Wink, wink, nudge, nudge." I laughed and playfully slapped his arm.

"Yeah, right," I said sarcastically, "I'll go to LA."

"You have to," he whined, "I wanna show you around."

"It sounds like a terrible place with vulture paps among other things..." Also known as Jessica. Did he honestly think I'd willingly subject myself to the torture of watching him be with another woman? He had to be kidding me.

He frowned and I thought that it registered in his mind that keeping me and his LA life separate was probably best. I just did not belong and I liked it that way.

"You want ice cream?" Justin asked suddenly, just before we reached the car.

"Yep," Tiny answered before I could, causing us to laugh.

"You?" Justin asked, turning to me as we stopped walking.

I shrugged. "I'm down." We turned away from the car and walked to the corner. I went to cross the street and was yanked back just as a car turned the corner sharply, almost hitting me. I looked back at Justin who looked like he was about to have a heart attack.

"What an asshole," he griped, still holding my arm. I sighed and shook my head.

"Thanks for saving my life," I laughed and he smirked down at me.

"Thanks for the heart attack," he joked, "You can no longer cross the street by yourself, young lady." Justin released my arm and grabbed my hand instead.

"Hey, I am perfectly capable of crossing the street by myself," I argued weakly, trying to sound like I actually cared. His hand was holding mine and that's all I could think about.

"Tell my panicked heart that," he said, giving my hand squeeze before checking both ways of the street for an extreme amount of time. Tiny had long crossed the street and was waiting for us to join him. It took Justin twenty years to finally cross, but he had me laughing the whole time with his exaggerated precautions, like making us run across the street when a car was two lights away.

We walked around the Chestnut street colonial area, being greeted by men dressed in colonial soldier clothing and offering horse and carriage rides. Justin declined as we turned on Pine street and stopped in front of Dots Spot. I had never seen this place before and Justin seemed too familiar with it.

"How many times have you been to Philly?" I asked him as he held the door open for me.

"A couple, mostly on tour," he informed me, "Tiny used to find me all the good spots." He turned to smile at Tiny, but he had already walked to the counter and was ordering. We joined him, Justin telling me I had to try the caramel cheesecake scoop and share with him. I agreed as long as I could try his butter almond scoop.

We walked and ate our ice cream as Tiny trailed behind. I had no idea where I was going, but it didn't seem to matter as Justin and I traded our ice cream cones and chit chatted aimlessly. He boyishly tried to trip me as we walked along with each other. I pushed him and almost made him lose his ice cream. He shot me a dirty look before rubbing the ice cream against his mouth in a messy glob and chasing me up the block, threatening to kiss me and smudge up my face. It was tempting enough for me to stop and give in, but I knew he was only joking and that any kiss with Justin would be pointless. I had kissed him with everything I had before he left and he still got on that plane.

I stopped running and Justin laughed as he ran up beside me, kissing my cheek sloppily. The sticky mess of ice cream that was once covering his mouth was now on my face and all I could not bring myself to laugh. I couldn't even smile. It wasn't the kiss I was stupid enough to believe would happen. It was a kiss on the cheek that he probably gave his grandma. It was the kiss he used on Sandra. It was the kiss on caring, but not a romantic love. It was the kiss of a friend.

It devestated me.

"What's wrong?" Justin asked, breathless as he stood in front of me, smiling and licking his ice cream like there wasn't something wrong with this picture. "I didn't get any in your hair, I promise." He took back his butter almond cone and replaced my empty hand with my caramel cheesecake.

"I think we should head home," I said, "I'm tired."

"What!" Justin smiled, "You slept for twenty years today and it's so nice out and it's early! It's not even ten yet." His bright, smiling face only made me love him more and everything in me wanted to say okay, but I couldn't keep dreaming, pretending that this was more than what it was, even if he could be fine in the morning, I knew I wouldn't.

"Justin, I really want to lay down or something."

"Are you sick?" he asked worriedly, placing his hand on my forehead. I removed it quickly and placed it back to his side.

"No, I just want to go home," I told him. He stared down at me for a moment and I turned away, "Please." He took a step back from me and the distance felt so cold.

"Okay," he said, "If that's what you want." What I wanted was completely insignificant in the real world. If what I wanted matter, I'd be wrapped up in his arms, snuggled up with the Matthew he once was, uncomplicated and uninvolved with anybody with me.

The walk to the car was silent and I felt myself recoiling from the urge to cry. I did not want to freak Justin out with my tears. He was already confused by my mood swing and I couldn't risk any more emotional baggage being shown. It was awkward enough.

The car wobbled as we drove over cobblestone streets and pot holes and Tiny was playing smooth jazz in the background. He wasn't talking on the phone and I knew that had sensed that something was wrong as well. I stared out the window, watching all the traffic and people and unadulterated joy everybody seemed to have. It all seemed so annoyingly impossible to have.

"Hey, Sash..." The voice of the man beside was so quiet that I would've missed it if the radio were any louder. I slowly turned around, not really wanting to face him, but not really wanting to miss seeing it either.

"Yes-"

"Nevermind," Justin interrupted before turning back to the window. I furrowed my brows.

"You sure?" I inquired and he nodded his head, not turning to face me. I looked at him for a moment longer, hoping he'd turned around, but turned back to my window when he didn't. The street lights and the city didn't look as bright as they did when we first arrived and I was sure that my feelings had changed that.

My feelings seem to be changing everything these days.

I stayed in bed for a very long time, trying to avoid the inevitable confrontation with Justin. I sighed when my stomach growled, sad that there surely would be no breakfast in bed. Not the way Justin gave me the cold shoulder on the way home and when he mumbled goodnight after I stood by the stairs and told him to sleep well. He didn't even tell me to feel better, even though I doubted he believed my illness/tired story.

I shook my head, remembering the subtle hurt on his face when I removed his approaching hand to his side when he tried to touch my forehead to check my temperature. I was sorry for that, it was rude, but I'm glad I didn't let him touch me. My body could only sustain so much torture before it would give way and keel over.

Maybe I was dramatizing the situation, but last night had been bearable until I realized how completely unbearable and embarrassing it was. There I stood, all over downtown with Justin Timberlake chasing and teasing and eating ice cream with me, pretending that it was a date in my head and pushing back any thought of his miscarrying fiance back at home, being ignored as we waited on our dinner.

I wished, very much so, that I could push away the newly developed guilt I felt for that, knowing that I missed Justin even when he was here, so to be blatantly ignored when all I wanted was a moment of his voice even hurt me. And to think it was directed at the one woman I should want to inflict pain on. But I didn't want to think like that. Why should really be mad at her? Justin had told her forgiveness was possible and, had I been her, I wouldn't have let him out of my sight in fear of losing him again. She was much more understanding and willing in the way she let him go so soon after she got him back. I would've pleaded for more time together before he fled away, but she loved him enough to let him go and trust his word that he'd return.

Damn, she even beat me in her level of maturity.

I grimaced and my stomach howled in agony at the tremendous amount of hunger digging into my gut. My mental stubbornness was then shifted as my natural survival instincts kicked in and forced to me get up and find food. Food that was downstairs in the kitchen that I would have to get to by going through Justin. I stood at the door, hesitation overshadowing my hunger for just a minute before I was on the go again. I made a short stop at the bathroom to brush and wash my face before bunning up my hair in a more presentable fashion. I still looked like shit on a stick, but it was enough to prevent Justin from screaming in horror when he saw my wretched morning face.

I moved like a slouth down the stairs, creeping even as my stomach moaned, and watched as the view of my trusty brown couch became clearer...And empty. I frowned, a part of me sad that I couldn't see his angelic face, until I heard some clattering in the kitchen. I rolled my eyes, slauntering toward the smell of bacon and eggs now hitting my senses. My stomach lurched me forward and my hesitation was soon forgotten as the thought of eating clouded my mind.

I still had butterflies once I reached the open entrance and his back was to me as he worked the stove. He wore some red checkered boxers and a white muscle shirt that did him justice, even from behind. He seemed to be concentrating and I didn't want to give him a heart attack, so I yawned lightly to ease him into the fact that I was there. His body visibly tensed and then relaxed as he gave me a quick glance over his shoulder.

"Afternoon," he greeted tiredly. I apparently wasn't the only one who missed out on a good amount of rest. I felt more guilty. He must've been wondering what the hell my problem was. As amazing as I thought Justin could be, he was still just a man, and like all men, he could be so obtuse when something was clearly evident.

"Good afternoon," I mumbled, almost unintelligible as I walked over to the fridge. A carton of OJ stared back at me and I grabbed it. I kicked the fridge closed and grabbed a glass from the dish holder. I poured myself half a cup and gulped it down before filling it up again. I felt awkward in my own house and it made me more uncomfortable.

"Do you feel better?" Justin asked, breaking the silence as he turned off the stove and walked over to grab big plate on the counter beside him that I didn't notice had eggs on it already. He pushed them aside and laid paper towel on the side. He placed the bacon he finished on the paper towel and walked over to the table with the plate perfectly balanced in one hand, two forks in the other. He placed everything down and took a seat before I even thought to answer. He looked up at me expectantly. I shrugged.

"I guess," I mumbled. He nodded and gestured toward the chair across from him.

"You eating?" he asked. I shrugged again and turned to the dish holder to grab two plates. He took one from my hands as I took a seat. The chair squeaked as I did so and I snorted a brief, unnecessary laugh out of nervousness as I scooped some eggs onto my plate. Justin picked at the bacon and then we rotated. I stared at everything but his face as I squeezed some ketchup onto my food and began to eat slowly, trying to chew too loud. I didn't want to bring attention to myself even though I was the only one with him in the room. I didn't want to talk and say the wrong thing.

"I spoke to Jess last night." I flinched a little at the sudden voice and at the mention of her name from his mouth. It sounded like such a dirty word when he said.

"Yeah?" I said, bravely looking up at his face. He was looking down at his eggs as he spoke.

"We talked for a long time," he told me, "I barely slept." Another bruise for my ego. Why was I so bothered rather than relieved that it was her, rather than thoughts of me, that kept him up all night? I looked down at my eggs and tried not to look disappointed.

"That's good," I said as calmly as possible, "She doin' alright?"

"Yeah, she's good," he told me before he laughed. I looked up, confused and he waved me off. "Sorry, I just thought about something she said..." I looked back down and ate a piece of bacon. I didn't want to know what was so funny. I couldn't stand that she made him smile.

"Well, my freedom's over," I sighed, "I gotta work tomorrow." The subject change wasn't subtle and I hoped he got the hint.

"The midshift, right?" he inquired, moving along with me.

"Yep," I said, "You got any plans for when I'm gone?" I looked up again, he was staring into space thoughtfully.

"I dunno... I'm sure Mike's gonna be hanging out with his family. I guess I'll chill with them for awhile. But I gotta make a few calls to set up going back home."

"Back..home?" I asked dumbly and he looked over at me.

"I'm leaving tomorrow night," he looked down at his plate, "Maybe afternoon. I don't really know for sure yet."

"Oh," I said and he looked up at me and shrugged.

"I gotta go back sometime and I figured you'd be stuck working these next two days anyway..."

"Oh, no, it's fine, of course..." I said, smiling weakly, "I just thought you were staying a little longer, is all."

"I could, if you want," he said, but it didn't sound too sure, "I can just push back a couple things-"

"No, it's fine, Justin, please," I brushed off, "Go home."

"Well, shit, should I pack now?" he joked, smiling.

"Yes! Out!" I jokingly shooed him and we laughed for a moment.

"Visiting me in LA is still an open invitation, anytime." I wrinkled my nose and held his navy blue gaze.

"I'm not really feeling it," I sighed dramatically, "Rich, skinny, spoiled little Paris Hiltons running around and paps snapping their little cameras a mile a minute... I think I'll pass." He chuckled.

"You're so pessimistic," he whined, "There's beautiful weather, gorgeous beaches...."

"I can go to Jersey for beaches and the weather's just fine," I said, dismantling his argument.

"You're coming to LA," he stated firmly, "Mike will make you."

"Mike is not bullet proof," I said. Justin laughed.

"Oh, so you shoot people now?" he cackled, "What happened to you cutting bitches with your trusty little knife?"

"The knife wasn't scary enough," I joked, "I needed something with a little more...bang." He nudged me for my bad joke and smiled.

"Well, you're living quite the thug life, my little friend," he told me, "Even more reason to come to LA and leave that gangbangin' behind you."

"Sorry, but I have a reputation to hold up to." I stole a piece of bacon from the big plate and he snatched half of it off and ate it as I whimpered in protest.

"Thugs don't cry over bacon," he said, chewing happily, "You might wanna get on that." I rolled my eyes, stole some of his eggs in retailiation, and sat back, much more comfortable now.

"You're lucky I'm not really as gangsta as I should be," I told him, "Stealing my bacon like that would've cost you a cap in your non-existent ass."

"Well, we all can't have Beyonce booty protection," he laughed and I rolled my eyes, but smiled, "Besides, I got bodyguards. Mike would take you down before you even thought about it."

"Mike's not here now," I said, "You're an easy target, Timberlake. Don't push your luck."

"I'm shaking in my ankle socks," he trailed off, continuing his breakfast. We fell into a comfortable silence. I finished my food first and washed the dishes I had in the sink before he came up behind me and dropped his plate in the soapy water for me to wash. I glared over my shoulder at him and he offered me a smile before sashaying out of the kitchen. I rolled my eyes, finishing up what I was doing before meeting him in the living room.

The Christina's court show was on and we both watched as two cousins argued on the screen. It was weird to glance over and see him watching Christina's court. I knew that he was just Justin or Matthew or whatever, but at times, I couldn't help but see that Justin Timberlake was sitting on my sofa, sucking at a piece of bacon in his teeth, watching Christina's court in nothing but a muscle shirt and boxers. It was almost funny and I shook my head. How surreal it was to be in a position like this? Three months ago, I was a completely different person living a much simplier life until he came along and changed it.

I was still deciding on whether or not that was a good thing.

"Hey, can I ask you something?" Justin asked, catching me looking at him, but I just pretended that I only turned when he spoke. He didn't seem like he was going to crack a joke about how I couldn't keep my eyes off him, so I nodded.

"Sure," I said, "What's up?"

"I dunno, but last night was a little weird," he told me, making me tense up. "I was a little confused about what happened. You seemed like you were mad at me or something."

"None of that was a question," I pointed out and he gave me a bored look.

"Fine, Sash, are you mad at me?"

"No," I answered quickly and he knitted his brows together in an unconvinced and annoyed scowl.

"It's okay if you are," he assured me, "Just let me know what I did wrong."

"It's nothing, Justin," I waved him off, "Seriously, you're worried about nothing."

"Are you sure?" he asked again, "Is this about the whole... Jessica thing?" I wanted to smack him for that. The whole Jessica thing? Was he talking about her not knowing I exist? Or was he referring to when he left me to be with her? Maybe the fact that instead of staying up all night worrying about me like I thought, he actually stayed up all night talking to her?

"You can't just lump everything into a 'Jessica thing'," I said with a sour look, "That's way too broad."

"So it is about Jessica then?"

"Justin, I was tired and annoyed-"

"By me?" he interrupted.

"Right now? Yes, very much so," I sighed and shook my head, "You are such a man sometimes and it kills me." I laughed and he shrugged, not getting the humor.

"Should I apologize for having a penis?" I laughed again and he cracked a smile.

"Maybe you should," I said, "Maybe if you didn't have a one, I'd be... I dunno, I'm babbling." Justin's smile disappeared as he reached up and smoothed my hair back. His hands rested at the nape of my neck momentarily before falling to his side. He shook his head sadly and glanced back at the television.

"I came back way too soon," he mumbled to himself, or maybe me, I couldn't tell.

"I'm fine, Justin, really, it's embarassing that you worry so much," I told him as strongly as possible. He gave me a sideways glance and then looked down at his lap.

"I can't help it," he said, "I'm a mess and I'm worrying about this mess I made with you and I'm worrying about the mess at home with Jessica..."

"You're not a mess," I defended, "And don't worry about me. Jessica is your top priority right now..."

"Stop doing that."

"What?" I asked, looking at him.

"Stop trying to be the bigger person," he said, "It's annoying and frustrating trying to right my wrongs when you're acting like I didn't do anything and you're great and all this other shit... If I were you, I'd at least be upset with me, if not completely pissed off and just sad."

"Well, you're not me, so..."

"Sash, I broke your heart when I got on that plane and I know it. I thought about it the whole flight and I think about it everyday. I would kick myself in the balls if that would make it better for you."

"Justin, please," I was recoiling on the inside. "I don't want to talk about this shit."

"Maybe that's the problem, maybe we do need to talk about it."

"Not today," I said, "Besides, there's no need. I can take care of myself without all these therapy sessions you're trying to conduct. I don't want to talk about feelings and sadness and anger or any of it because it'll pass like every other piece of bullshit life throws at you."

"It'll pass...." he mumbled before snorting in disbelief, "You're so stubborn."

"I've learned from the best," I shot back, pushing him playfully, "And stop it. Now." I pinched the tip of his nose.

"Ow!" he cried, rubbing the reddening area, "What the hell was that for?"

"That was for worrying," I said, "Every time you worry, I'm going to pinch you." He rubbed his nose and glared at me.

"Maybe I should go home today instead." I reached out and pinched his arm. He yelped.

"What the hell was that for?" he asked, rubbing his arm.

"That was for being an asshole," I informed him before smiling, "This is actually pretty fun." I pinched his knee and he slapped my hand away before pinching me back. I laughed, but it stung.

"How do you like it?" he asked, laughing as he poked my side and made me giggle. I slapped his hand away when he tried again.

"I'm gonna start punching if you don't stop it," I warned as I slapped another poke away. He rolled his eyes.

"You think you're so tough," he said, disregarding my threat as a meaningless statement. I raised brow.

"You wanna test your theory?" I challenged and he mocked my raised brow expression, exaggerating by pursing his lips and placing his hands on his waist. He rolled his eyes and smacked his lips before pretending flip hair over his shoulder. I was laughing before I could control myself.

"Don't laugh at me!" Justin said in a mock, feminine voice. He rolled his eyes again before laughing out loud himself. He was so silly and I loved it. We quieted down for a second and I sighed as he relaxed back into his causal stance.

"You're a weirdo," I teased, "A funny weirdo, but a weirdo nonetheless."

"Well, thanks, I guess," he chuckled, "But aside from physically abusing me and calling me names, how would you like to spend the day?" I pretended to think for a moment, tapping my chin as I weighed the imaginary options in front of me. Then I clapped my hands together in a false eureka moment and turned to him with a wide grin.

"I wanna go to Disney World!" I gushed and he laughed.

"Really?" he asked, just as excited. I nodded and laughed before he pulled out his phone. He was halfway through dialing before a realization hit me.

"Wait," I said to him, haulting his actions, "What are you doing?" He looked genuinely confused as he shrugged.

"I'm calling Mike," he told me simply, "He can probably get us to the airport in time to catch a flight to Florida. It'll be less than an hour flight from here, I'm sure."

"Justin, I was joking," I snorted a laugh, "Why would I seriously ask you to take me to Disney World? And more importantly, why are you seriously about to do it?" He looked down at the phone in his hands and a light blush colored his cheeks.

"Oh, I ..." he trailed off, "It's not that much to ask, ya know? So..l... just..." His cheeks were more red than before and he was officially embarassed by my questioning. I started to feel bad.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean for it to come out like that," I said, "I mean, it's Disney World, ya know? It's a stretch for me, but I guess I gotta remember who I'm talking to...But thanks anyway."

"Sorry, I just get a little forgetful too," he laughed it off, "I gotta remember that you wouldn't even let me buy you water, let alone take you to Disney World. I got excited that you'd let me give you something big since you never let me give you anything."

"You bought me dinner last night," I reminded, "And ice cream."

"You got the cheapest thing on the menu," he pointed out, "And the ice cream was four bucks."

"That's a lot for a cone," I complained, "I'm about to pay you back." He rolled his eyes.

"You're annoying," he complained, "Always trying to give back what's being given to you."

"I'm sorry that I'm not a little moochin' gold digger," I said sarcastically, "I'll change my ways."

"That's what I like to hear," he retorted and I pinched him on the arm again. Another yelp and another pinch to my arm in retaliation. I pouted and he pouted, both of us in minor pain.

"I don't like this pinching thing anymore," I whined and he nodded in agreement.

"Truce?" he offered and I nodded before we shook hands. "Well, if we're skipping out on Disney World, what else is on the menu?"

"Hmm..." I looked around the room and shrugged, "I don't know. What do you want to do?"

"I wanted to get a new guitar," he turned to me with an innocent smile, "Wanna go shopping?"

"I'd rather sit through a Teletubbies marathon, but since they don't have those, I guess I'll join you." He laughed before turning serious.

"Hey, don't they freak you out?" he asked, "Teletubbies, I mean. All running around in these bright colored onesies with bunny rabbits all over the place...just...weirds me out." I nodded in agreement.

"Yeah, and where are their parents?"

He shrugged. "I don't know and I don't want to know. Could you imagine what they'd look like?"

"That's scarier than imagining how big Big Bird's mama is," I shivered.

"Why is Big Bird so damn big?" Justin pondered, "What kinda bird is he?"

"Better yet, why has he been six for the last thirty years?"

"He's six?!" Justin asked in disbelief, "Holy shit, I was thinking at least ten."

"Nope, six," I confirmed, "And elmo's three or something like that. He had a birthday." He nodded thoughtfully and then smirked.

"Why are we discussing Teletubbies and Sesame Street?" I smiled and shrugged.

"I don't know, but you know what else is scary?" He shook his head. "Boobahs."

"Boo-what?" he asked.

"Boobahs," I repeated, "They're this twisted little verision of Teletubbies. They are just creepy." He made a sour face.

"That sounds awful," Justin told me, "A twisted version of Teletubbies? As if that show wasn't demented enough."

"Now, if I had to choose between one episode of Boobahs and a marathon of Teletubbies, I'd choose the Teletubbies, hands down." Justin widened his eyes in shock.

"That bad?" I nodded and he shook his head. "That's terrible. How can they torture kids like that?"

"I don't know, but my nephew practically screams when Boobahs pop up on the television screen." He laughed and shook his head.

"You should write a letter of complaint," he smiled, "Alert the media about this traumatizing epidemic."

"I wish I could get it off air, but I don't think anybody cares that much."

"Probably not, but it'll make for an interesting tale," he said nonchalantly, "And don't think I forgot about shopping, sweetness. I'm still dragging you with me." I snapped my fingers and stomped my foot disappointedly, pretending to actually be upset.

"Damn it, so close," I complained, "If I had just held onto that Teletubbies story a little longer..."

"Shoulda, woulda, coulda," Justin said dismissively, "Go get dressed and I'll buy you ice cream for your trouble."

"Aw, thanks," I mumbled sarcastically as I got up from the couch and dragged myself unwillingly toward the stairs.

"You're quite welcome," Justin called behind me. I ignored him, jogging upstairs and rolling my eyes at the smile on my face. He had called me sweetness and I pretended not to hear it even though my heart jumped a little when the words slipped pass his soft pink lips. I shook my head. Stop it! I told myself, but my smile was still pulling at the corners of my mouth. I decided to let myself have this little moment because he'd be leaving tomorrow and I would work on getting over him the moment that he did.

But for now I giggled like a school girl.

I giggled again.

I was lying in bed, awake and checking my email. I was smiling to myself, relieved that the day had gone smoothly. Justin and I bonded. Joked, teased, shopped... That part was even fun, but I didn't tell him that. I did, however, play along with his childish ways as he forced me to model in an array of outfits he'd magically appear with before he snapped my photo with his fancy digital camera, saying things like 'Give me sexy, you sexy beast!' in the worst French accent I've ever heard.

It was hilarious and completely endearing. Yes, I loved him and it grew more today. I didn't let myself believe we were a couple, but I did allow myself to wish for it, stop and pray for it, and even dare to think at more than one occasion that if I leaned close enough, I could steal a kiss and maybe stir something in him that would make him feel the same.

Of course, nothing went beyond my thoughts because I loved him enough to save him drama and accept that when he left tomorrow, the pain of being alone with him so far away and not mine again would drown me. I frowned a little when I thought of it, but a part of me failed to care. I couldn't take pleasure without accepting the hurt that came with it. No pain, no gain. I wanted him in my life, friendship was good enough, even if I fantasized a little on the side...Or a lot. Whatever. Minor details in the grand scheme of things.

I sighed. Maybe this was just a momentary lapse of judgment because of my good spirits. I don't know. I guess I'll have to wait and see what tomorrow will be like in order to determine whether or not having him around is really worth the torture. Did I love him enough to have him around regardless or did I love him too much to endure not being with him?

"Sash?" The voice came from the hall outside my door and I tilted my neck to speak to him.

"Come in," I said, and he turned the knob and strolled into the room in gray sweats and a Pink Floyd prism shirt on. I smiled instinctively. He did the same.

"What are you up to?" he asked curiously, stretching and cracking his back. I glanced quickly at the exposed skin his hiked t-shirt showed before he relaxed with his arms lazily at his sides. I shrugged.

"Email," I answered with boredom, "I can't really sleep." I glanced at the time in the right-hand corner of the computer screen. It wasn't even half past ten and I figured that was why. Much too early for bed. I had enough sleep in this week than I had in a while and I was much too rested and happy to sleep the good night away. Justin walked over to the bed and sat on the edge. I was sitting Indian-style on the bed, so he was sitting right by me, tilting his head to peek at the screen.

"I can't sleep either," he sighed, "I'm debating about going home tomorrow." I rolled my eyes.

"Justin, it's fine," I assured, "I'm not going to die if you leave tomorrow. It's not like I'll never see you again."

"I know that," he pouted, looking down at his lap as he picked at invisible lint, "I'm not so sure I wanna go just yet. I had fun today."

"We'll have fun other days," I cooed, "Besides, don't you miss your precious LA? Oh, the beautiful beaches and weather!" He snorted a laugh and shook his head.

"Yeah, but Philly's a lot more appealing, less paps and you..." he trailed off, "Besides, Mike and his family aren't done exploring yet. He wants to stay another day or two." He shrugged nonchalantly. "No harm will be done... unless you do want me to go."

He looked up at me with big, doe eyes and I shook my head and smiled. "You're disgustingly childish. And your act is unnecessary. You're welcome to stay as long as you like."

"In that case... what's the rent like?" I laughed and rolled my eyes as he settled in more comfortably beside me. I ignored the butterflies and the anxious pounding of my heart, sitting up a little straighter as he lied back against my propped up pillows and gently rested his head on my arm. "I'm seriously diggin' it here though."

"Is that right, jive turkey?" I joked and he snorted a laugh beside me before pointing at the screen.

"You made that?" he asked as I opened up a wallpaper I had created out of boredom in my Photoshop program. I nodded, becoming self-conscious about my abstract work as he examined it with his wandering eyes.

"It's just silly stuff," I mumbled, "I do it when I have free time."

"It's really good," he complimented, "I love the colors." I took in the arrays of blues, yellows, and greens and the one red streak I thought looked good. It seemed too bright now and I closed the window before opening up the Internet explorer.

"I used to want to do graphic design," I told him, "Nursing was more realistic though."

"Why?" he asked, confused, "Graphic design's as realistic as nursing."

"I meant as far as getting a job," I explained, "It's too in demand, I guess. I'm not much of a competitor. I just do what I'm good at and what will get me by."

"You're good at graphic design," he told me, "You could've gotten by."

"You saw one wallpaper," I argued, "You can't judge off of that."

"Well, it was so amazing that I can only imagine what else you're capable of," he said, giving me a light nudge, "You really oughta give yourself more credit, Sash. What happened to that fierce confidence of yours?" I shrugged, wanting to drop the conversation, but I could feel him burning a hole into my head and I knew he wasn't going to get off my ass about it until I actually answered him.

"I'm still confident, I'm just honest with myself," I said, "If I suck at something, I'm going to admit that I suck at it."

"You don't suck at graphic design," he said, "Or nursing...Or cooking. In fact, you don't suck at anything."

"I can't sing," I argued, "Or dance."

"I don't know about that," he said with the hint of a smile in his tone, "I haven't seen you done either."

"Trust me, you don't want to," I said, shuddering at the thought.

"Like I should trust that you suck at graphic design?" he retorted sarcastically, "I'll be the judge, thank you very much."

"Well, you'll never hear me sing or see me dance, so thank you very much," I shot back, googling Shia LaBeouf absentmindedly. Justin grunted disapprovingly as I clicked on a fan site.

"Aren't you a little old for him?" he asked and I rolled my eyes.

"He's maybe two years younger," I scoffed, "And I'm not old, grandpa. You're three years my senior, remember?"

"Well you don't see me googling the Olsen twins," he grumbled and I nudged his head off of me.

"Why does it matter?" I said, clicking around the image gallery. "Are you jealous?"

"No," he quickly denied. A little too quickly. I smiled. He was jealous and I liked that.

"He's really cute," I went on, "I mean, look at those big ol' doe eyes."

"He looks lost and confused," Justin criticized, "He looks like a little boy."

"He has a baby face," I shrugged, "So do you." He snorted at the comparison.

"I'm rugged though." I laughed.

"Rugged?" I squeaked, "You have to be kidding me, Justin."

"What?" he asking, completely innocent, "I am! I have stubble and stuff."

"And stuff..." I mumbled off, giggling a bit, "So does Shia." I clicked on a picture with him in a light beard. It was the Eagle Eye look that I loved and I couldn't help smiling at bit at the picture.

"That's peach fuzz," Justin dismissed, completely unimpressed, "I looked like Big Foot one time. My beard was massive." I wrinkled my nose in disgust and turned to face him.

"That's foul," I complained, "Why did you run around looking all hobo for?" He pouted in response, glaring at the screen.

"It wouldn't be hobo if Shia did it," he childishly whined and I rolled my eyes, returning to the Yahoo screen.

"Fine, no more Shia," I told him, still smiling inside, "What do you want to do?" I felt him shrug as he leaned back on my shoulder.

"Laying here seems good," he yawned, "That couch is really starting to kill my back." I frowned at the screen, not wanting him to see that I was disappointed that he'd chosen to sleep on that godforsaken couch instead of in bed with me. He didn't seem to notice my frump face before I changed it into a relaxed one. I had to play it cool when I said my next line.

"Well, you're more than welcome to sleep up here," I told him, nonchalantly and without any hidden messages. I didn't want him to get the wrong idea, but I didn't want him to get the right one either. If I sounded indifferent, then he'd just have to answer without any pressure from me. He paused and 'hmm'ed in thought.

"I guess I could get a good night's sleep for the next day or two..." he mumbled, "I'm going to be on that plane for a while and it would be nice to have a fully functioning spine..." I chuckled.

"You're the one who chose to torture himself," I reminded, "I offered my bed and you declined." I bit my lip once the words left because that sounded bitter. I didn't mean to. It came out that way. I was hoping it was in my head, but I felt Justin shift uncomfortably away from me, recoiling at my tone. I felt the blood rushing to my head as I became embarrassed. My brown skin protected my outside appearance. My blush wasn't showing and I was grateful.

"Sorry," he apologized sheepishly like he had actually done something wrong, "I just wanted to make sure I wasn't crossing any boundaries."

"I offered," I argued weakly, "What boundaries could you have crossed if I was giving you permission to sleep up here?" Another uncomfortable shift.

"Look, I just don't want to get...confused...or confuse you...or...I dunno," he sighed, frustrated. I was confused now and he didn't seem to notice when I stared at the side of his face with questioning eyes. He looked at the laptop's screen. "Sash, you're not the only one trying to get over everything. I'm having a hard time myself remembering that Matthew's gone and it's not my place to be hanging all over you like he could... I got to keep myself in check, ya know? Not let myself get too... close. Don't get me wrong, I know I wasn't going to attack you or anything like that, but I have to ease myself back into our friendship."

"Geez, Justin," I sighed dramatically, "I didn't know I was that damn tempting." He chuckled and nudged me, looking up from the screen and at me now.

"Don't joke when I'm trying to be serious," he scolded with a smile. "I'm trying to be a good guy."

"You are a good guy," I told him, looking down at my hands. "Really, you are... And if you think it's better for you to sleep downstairs, it's fine. But I think it's ridiculous to throw your back out just because you have some...issues with being close to me. That'll get better with time. I mean, I used to burst into tears just thinking about you and now you're sitting here and I'm fine."

"Oh...Sash, I'm-" I held up my hand to silence him.

"Please, Justin, it's fine," I told him, "It's completely natural to have been so distraught after you left. I was being emotional, but now... I'm pretty much fine. The idea of us being friends is good to me. I miss you when you're gone, but it's not the same kind of pain. It's on a more stable level of acceptance, I guess. It'll work the same way for you. You can't avoid being close to me forever." I was trying to sound all relaxed and uncaring, but that had to be the hardest thing to say out loud, especially to him. God, Clarissa, and myself were the only ones who knew about those tearful outbursts. Oh, and my dear Bob. His feline eyes staring intently at me before moving up to run his body against my legs. I was exposing my embarrassing vulnerability just to get him to stay up here with me tonight. How desperate was I? Had I no pride?

"I guess you're right," Justin said, "Sleeping up here tonight will be fine." I guess not because I mentally patting myself on the back for convincing him to stay. I was already scooting over to give him space and fluffing two pillows before handing them to him. He must be able to smell the desperation off of me, but he didn't seem annoyed. He looked more at ease than before, stealing my laptop from me to check his mail. I watched as he did so, glancing at the screen to make sure he didn't see me staring at the side of his face the entire time. I was just observing and appreciating every detail of his baby face. The stubble, the wrinkles, the curves and grooves... It all seemed brand new. It made him more real. I gently caressed his light side burns, getting a feel of his curly brown hair. He looked at me then, quizzically.

"Lint," I lied, pretending to rub my finger against my lap to remove the "lint". He just smiled softly as he turned back to the laptop. I pulled my blanket over me as I stretched out my legs. Justin yawned and stretched his legs as well, lifting the computer to cover himself up with the sheet too. I moved a little closer to him, leaning against his arm as he browsed around and replied to emails that were a mile long. His responses were maybe two or three sentences. I didn't really pay much attention to what they were about. I did watch how quickly his fingers touched the keys and the way he'd get frustrated when he missed a letter or spelled something wrong. It was like it was too much work to press backspace. I snorted a laugh.

"What?" Justin asked, already smiling like he got the joke. I shrugged. He didn't say anything else, but he exited out of the yahoo screen window and shut down the computer. He waited for the screen to go black before closing it shut and placing it under the bed. Once he sat up, he looked at me and laughed a little. It sounded nervous and I wondered why as I looked up at him.

"What?" I asked this time and he shook his head with a smile still on his face.

"Nothing," he chuckled. I looked up at unconvinced, but he didn't say anything, stretching awkwardly and groaning in discomfort as he rubbed his back.

"You sure you didn't pull or dislocate anything?" I asked, a bit concerned by the agony etched across his features. He shrugged.

"You tell me Nurse Betty." I rolled my eyes, but smiled a little.

"Fine, roll over," I instructed as I climbed out of bed. He looked at me like I had three heads.

"What?" he asked as I stood at his side of the bed.

"Roll over and let me take a look," I said, "I'm a nurse, I might see something." He narrowed his eyes in suspicion and I rolled mine.

"What are you really going to do?" he asked and I placed my hands on my hips and huffed.

"Boy, if you don't roll over, I'm gonna punch you in the nuts," I threatened and he grimaced before sighing and rolling onto his stomach. I had talked a lot of shit, but now that he was laying there and my hands were lifting up his t-shirt to reveal his muscular back, I was feeling a little weak in the knees. I remembered when my nails used to dig into this back. When my lips kissed that angel tattoo, and when I watched his muscles flex whenever he walked down the hall naked or shirtless or in a towel coming from a shower.

It seemed so long ago and now his back was this new, intimidating thing to me. I hesitated before my hands touched his skin. He shuddered at the contact and I jumped back a little.

"You ok?" I asked and he nodded with his head pressed against my pillow.

"Yeah, your hands were just a little colder than I expected," he laughed lightly, "Go on though." I nodded once and did as instructed. My hands rested on his shoulders, another shudder, but I didn't have a heart attack over it. I pressed down to add pressure. He grunted.

"Did that hurt?" I inquired.

"No, that felt kinda good," he smiled.

"Okay, well tell me if it hurts."

"Will do," he assured as I massaged my way down in circular motions. He sighed a bit as I pressed down a little harder, putting some more expertise into it. I kept myself from unclean thoughts by trying to remember the muscles in the general area I was working on. Justin had closed his eyes and was enjoying himself while I was naming muscles and their functions. It seemed to me going well until I had an ingenious idea.

"This would be a lot better if I used some oil," I announced, already walking over to my drawer and pulling it open. I grabbed some lavender scented massage oil and walked back over to him. Justin was turned to look at the bottle in my hand incredulously.

"That's not girly shit is it?" he asked, wrinkling his nose. I sighed dramatically in annoyance.

"Not it's not girly shit," I mocked in a whiny voice, "It's lavender scented massaging oil by Bath and Body works. Got it on sale a while back. Puts you right to sleep." He looked doubtful, but he turned back around and relaxed against the pillows again.

"Fine," he said simply and I went back to work. I poured some oil into my palm and rubbed my hands together to heat it up before rubbing it over his skin. The oil seemed to make his muscles stand out more like some cheesy, sleazy magazine cover for swimsuit models. I never understood why guys went crazy over that shit 'til now. Now that I had this fine, oiled up, completely untouchable, yet touchable man beneath me, sighing ever so often because my hands were pleasing him. I was somewhat overwhelmed. The lavender scent didn't relax me at all. I grew more anxious as my mind clouded over with thoughts him of rubbing the oil all over me. Both our bodies oiled up and-

Shit.

I need to stop. Why am I turning into a teenage boy? Ever six got damn seconds my mind is wandering. Maybe that's what my problem was. Maybe I wasn't in love, maybe I was in lust. I was having a hard time distinguishing between the two in this moment because I have never wanted or needed another human being more. My hands pushing down against his warm skin more forcefully. I had to ball them up to keep my nails from running along his skin. He grunted as I moved down to the small of his back.

"Does it hurt?" I managed to breathe out and he grunted again before answering.

"No, that's really good," he told me softly, "You're getting all the knots out." Fuck the knots, I wanted to tell him. Fuck me. For the love of god, if I couldn't have his heart, could I at least have a piece of his body? Why was he completely off limits? It didn't seem fair. I almost cried it out in agony.

My blood was boiling in frustration. Why was I torturing myself this way? Why was it even torture just to massage his aching muscles? It shouldn't be this hard. I was stronger than this. I was better than this... But he sighed a little and I remembered the sounds he made when we made love on this very bed for hours at a time.

My hands stopped moving as I took a breath. Justin squirmed a little to look back at me. He smiled tiredly.

"You done?" he asked gently and I looked away from his navy eyes and nodded.

"Yeah, I'm done," I said, standing up straight and capping up the bottle. I walked over to my dresser and tossed the godforsaken thing into the corner of the drawer.

"I don't get to return the favor?" I heard Justin ask and I almost got whiplash when I turned to look at him.

"No," I answered curtly. He frowned.

"Are you okay?" he asked, confused, "You seem mad." I shook my head as I turned away from him, glancing at my reflection for a moment.

"I'm fine," I lied and I didn't even try to sound convincing. Justin sighed a little and I heard the bed creak beneath his moving weight.

"Maybe I should sleep downstairs," he said, walking over to the door, I could guess from the sound of his footsteps. I didn't say anything. He took my silence as an answer. "Goodnight, Sash." The door opened and closed and I listened as he jogged down the steps. I let out a breath I was holding and stared at my reflection head on, shaking my head.

"Coward," I mumbled to myself, realizing that I was one. I was always the go-getter. If I wanted something, I fought for it, but what I wanted was downstairs and I was too busy having wet dreams to lift a finger to fight for him. I looked down at the wood of my dresser top and thought of nothing, but his face. His scent mixed with the lavender in the air around me. It wasn't Matthew's, but I grew to recognize and love the smell. Simply because it was his and loved him. I loved him and I loved the Matthew in him. I knew that wasn't going to change, no matter how hard I fight the feeling, I'd always love that man. It would hurt every single day knowing that I didn't have enough faith in that love to tell him and see what would happen.

I was dragging myself back to bed in that moment, reaching for my cell perched on my nightstand and dialing the familiar digits. Two rings and she picked up.

"I love him," I said before she could utter a hello. I heard her sigh.

"Don't tell me, I already know," Clarissa 'tsk'ed in disapproval. "I will never understand why you won't just tell that boy."

"Because he's already in love," I argued, "And it's not with me."

"He does not love that woman," Clarissa groaned.

"How can you say that?" I asked in disbelief.

"Because Justin Timberlake has more money than every got damn person in Philadelphia combined and he's not laying in his bed next to Jessica What's-Her-Face or staying in a five star hotel. He's sleeping at your house, on your couch, no less, just to spend some time with you. No man will do that for anybody."

"He's just more comfortable at my place instead of a hotel," I argued again, "Besides, Clare, they're having a rough patch. He's just running away... I'm just some type of vacation from the stress of it all."

"A trip to the Bahamas is a vacation," Clarissa told me firmly, "You are his place of solace. That boy has his own mansion somewhere in LA that he can have all to himself. He could go anywhere in the world, but do you know where he went?" I rolled my eyes at her dramatics, but listened in. "He went to you because he wanted to go to a place where he could just be. And where can we all just be?" she asked again and I waited. "We all can be ourselves at home. And where is home?" She paused dramatically again like she wasn't going answer her own question. "Home is where the heart is. And where there is a heart, honey, there is love." I stared at my feet as they dangled off the edge of the bed. I wanted to believe her with every fiber of my being, but my fear that she was wrong wouldn't allow me to think positive, even as the excitement grew in the pit of my stomach.

"I hear you, Clare, I do," I said softly, "I just don't want to be wrong."

"You're not wrong," she told me with certainty, "When have I ever been wrong?" I snorted a laugh.

"I can't name one time at the moment, but I'm sure you've made mistakes."

"The only mistake I've made is allowing you to run around this long, beating yourself up, and living in denial," she snapped, "I should just come over there and tell the boy you love him my damn self."

"Clare, I know you'd do that and I really do appreciate your honesty," I said, my voice covered in sarcasm, "But, for the sake of my dignity and our friendship, not to mention my sanity, I'd appreciate it if you'd stay right on the line and not in my house."

"You're a fool," she criticized. "You're a damn fool."

"Thank you," I grumbled, wishing I hadn't called her. "I think it's time to say goodnight."

"I know you're mad that I'm saying this to you, but I'm not holding your hand through this, Sash," Clarissa went on like she hadn't heard me, "It's your life and you're grown and I know that, but Sasheirah Hanes, you are better than this self-conscious, scared, and unwilling stranger I've been talking to lately. I don't know why you're doubting yourself like this, but it's seriously time for you to take charge. This should've been your week-"

"My week to what?" I yelled before I realize he'd be able to hear me. I calmed myself down and spoke quietly, "Look, I already made myself fantasize about things that will never ever happen again between him and I-"

"Says who?" she interrupted.

"Says me," I answered, "And Jessica and Justin."

"I don't remember anybody else saying that but you," she childishly mumbled.

"They've both said it by having a relationship together," I said, "He's off the market. I'm not some home wrecker. I've been on the flipside of that and it's not a good feeling to lose somebody like that."

"Is this not the same woman that cheated on Justin in the first place?"

"That doesn't matter," I sighed, "It doesn't mean I should help Justin cheat."

"I didn't tell you to help him cheat in the first place," Clarissa said, "I told you to tell him that you love him. That's it. Just say 'Justin, I love you.' You can walk away or stay or cry or anything else you're willing to do after that, but at the very least, let him know how you feel so he can make a knowledgeable decision."

"I already told him I was getting over him and being friends was good enough for me," I admitted.

"Take it back," Clarissa said simply. Everything was so simple for her.

"But what if his knowledgeable decision isn't in my favor?" I asked, "What if he still chooses Jessica?" Clarissa sighed and I waited for the love guru to speak her mind.

"Then it's his loss and the fact that you know you tried."

"That's it?" I asked, "That's all you have to say about the worst possible thing that could ever happen when I tell him I love him?"

"Well, the best possible thing is that he'll choose you," Clarissa told me, "Isn't that worth it?" I debated for a moment, wondering if it were worth it... I knew that him actually choosing me would be worth all the hassle of telling him how I feel, but the fact that he might not feel the same and will reject me completely... That was a bit harder to deal with.

"Clare-" I began to whine, feeling like I was on the verge of tears.

"He's going to choose you," she told me, "Sash, I feel it. He's going to choose you." I sighed and shook my head. I can't believe I'm doing this.

"He's going to choose me?" I asked again, one last boost for my confidence.

"Yes, he will," Clare told me with such assurance that I had no other choice.

"Okay," I said, sniffling as I wiped a stray tear from my face, "Okay, I'll tell him." My heart was pounding in my ears, the excitement and fears both raging. I couldn't tell which was stronger.

"Thank GOD!" Clare cheered, "Go! Go now!" I laughed a little at her enthusiasm.

"I'm going to slap you if you're wrong," I giggled, taking a deep breath.

"Girl, please," she chuckled, "You're not that crazy."

"I'm crazy enough to do this," I mumbled.

"You're brave enough to do this," she corrected, "And that's my Sash. That's the girl I know."

"That girl's pretty stupid." Clarissa sucked her teeth at my negativity and I surrendered before she could preach. "Alright, alright. I'm sorry. I'm thinking positive."

"Good," she said, "Now go on and get that man."

"I thought I was just telling him something, not getting him."

"Well, you'll get him once you tell him," she explained, "Now stop playing around and wasting time. He's probably halfway asleep."

"Fine..." I trailed off, reluctant to go; "I'll see you tomorrow."

"I can't wait!" she squealed excitedly and I had to smile a bit. "Night!"

"Goodnight," I said before she hung up on me. I closed my phone and stared into space for a moment before willing myself up. It was now or never and never was starting to look better as I made my way down the short hall and stopped at the top of the stairs. I could see the glow of the television illuminating my living room. Maybe he fell asleep with the television on.

"Sash?" Justin called up as I stepped down one stair. I sighed and closed my eyes for a moment. So much for sleep.

"Yeah," I replied, jogging down a little quicker than before. He sat up and clicked on the lamp on the table to his right. The orange glow tanned his pale skin as he looked up at me. I crept around to stand at the front of the sofa, a little to his left.

"You okay?" he asked after our moment of silence. I immediately wiped my face, thinking I may have missed a tear.

"No, I'm fine," I said, relieved that there was nothing but smooth, dry skin. He looked confused before he glanced to his left at the empty spot beside him.

"You sittin'?" he asked and I just sat down instead of answering. We sat for a minute and he sighed a bit. "I heard you yell something about the week. Is something wrong at work?" I rolled my eyes and shook my head.

"No, that was just Clare irking my soul," I explained and he chuckled lightly.

"How's she doing anyway?" he asked, muting the Dr. Phil episode he was watching. I shrugged, not meeting his gaze.

"She's okay," I answered meekly. "But...yeah, I have to tell you something." I winced at my lack of eloquence. Justin shifted in his seat and it made me more nervous than before. Did he already know what I was going to say?

"Are you talking to me or the floor?" he asked jokingly. I guess I was staring at the carpet kind of hard, so I slowly looked at him. He was smiling gently, like he didn't want to frighten me. I sat up a little straighter. I wasn't a coward. I was going to tell him.

"Sorry," I apologized, "I'm just a little nervous."

His brows creased in concern. He subconsciously reached out and placed his hand on my knee reassuringly. The heat of his skin warmed mine. "You can tell me anything. There's no need to be nervous." I was staring into his eyes and I saw that he meant it. He cares about me. I know that much. He's having a hard time getting over me too... He may not be in love with me, but at least there's attraction, right? That's all I need... A little bit of hope.

"Well...Justin..." I sighed, trying to find the words. How did you say this without sounding like a cheesy romance film? "I probably should've told you this before everything got so...complicated. I don't think it would've helped any, but at least I could've told you without knowing there was so much working against me now..."

"What's working against you?" he asked.

"You," I answered, "You and everything attached to you now." He shook his head.

"I'm not really following," he said softy.

"Well, I don't want to sound... like an idiot, but I guess it doesn't really matter what I sound like as long as I just say it."

"Then just say it," he encouraged gently, "Tell me what me what you need to say."

"I need to tell you..." I searched his eyes for a moment and they looked completely intent on listening to what I had to say. I needed his undivided attention because I would never have the guts to say it out loud again. "I need to tell you that-" The words were coming, but the shrill ringing of his cell phone cut me off. He groaned and turned to find it as he rang and rang. His hand left my knee as he searched. He finally dug it from under his pillow and glanced at the screen.

"It's Jessica," he announced, rejecting the call, "I'll get back to her." He turned back to me; his focus back on point, but his warm hand was gone, just like my confidence.

"Sash, tell me what's up," Justin said anxiously. I blinked away from his gaze.

"I just wanted to tell that I'm sorry," I lied, but a part of me was sorry. It was sorry for being stupid enough to come down here in the first place. "I shouldn't have flipped on you upstairs. It's not your fault that I'm...I don't know. I don't even know what I am...But I don't want you sleeping on this couch. I want you to come back upstairs." Justin's hand lifted my chin up so that I'd be forced to look at him.

"Is that what you wanted to tell me?" he asked, sounding unsure. I nodded and looked away. He didn't believe me, but he just let out a breath and leaned forward to gently kiss my forehead. "Okay, let's go to bed." He stood and held out his hand for me. I slipped my hand in his and allowed him to lead us back up to bed. I gave his fingers a squeeze and he glanced over his shoulder at me to offer a small smile as he squeezed them back. He was so damn beautiful.

We were halfway up the stairs before I halted my walking. I couldn't do this to myself. I couldn't keep wondering and wishing. Clare was right. It would be his loss. Besides, it would probably be easier to get over him if he outright rejected me, right? Angel wasn't so bad to get over once I decided that hated his guts for turning his back on me instead of being sad over everything. Maybe can I do that with Justin? Get mad and get over it.

"You okay?" Justin asked me, turning around to face my still form. I must be confusing him to new levels. He must be questioning my sanity.

"Yes, I'm fine," I said, "But I lied. That's not what I had to tell you down there."

"I figured that much," he smiled softly, "But you don't have to tell me if you're not ready. No pressure."

"I know," I said, "But I want to tell you. I want you to know." My tone shifted to a passionate tone and his interest peaked as he stared down at me.

"Well...tell me." He stared at me, looking as nervous as I felt.

"Justin, I'm not okay with us being friends," I said, "It's too hard to sit here and act like it's okay that you're going back to your LA life tomorrow or whenever it is that you decide to leave. It's not okay that you're not here...with me." He wobbled a little beneath my gaze.

"Sash-"

"Wait, just let me finish," I interrupted, "It's too hard because I'm not a mature enough person to stand here and say that I love you enough to let you go. I actually love you too much to watch you try and love somebody else. And that's what it is. I love you and I don't want to pretend that I don't and I don't want to hide behind this friendship facade. I just want to be with you and.and that's all." I was staring at the step I was standing and breathing so hard that I almost forgot Justin was there. My heart was still pounding in my ears. Blood was rushing and every nerve ending was tingling. I did my part. I said the words out loud and I was waiting. Waiting to see if he loved me too.

The stairs creaked beneath him as he shifted his weight from one leg to another. I didn't even know how long it was from the moment I spoke my piece to now, but I didn't really want to know. Silence wasn't a good thing. He didn't fall over and have a heart attack, which would've at least given him an excuse to be this quiet, so it's even worse. My stomach was twisting up with so much embarrassment and regret that I wished that the stair beneath me would open up and swallow me whole.

I glanced over to my left and stared down at the sofa through the railing. I should've stopped right there. I should've stopped at my lie, even if he didn't believe me. It would've brought me some time. It would've prevented this immense amount of dread from ripping through me.

"Sash." My head snapped in his direction, looking him straight in the eye with fear and anxiousness. I wish I had better control of my body because if I didn't look up at him, I wouldn't have been able to see the look on his face. The look of sympathy. The look of pity.

He pitied me.

That wasn't good. My stomach was nauseated. I wanted so slap myself over and over. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

"Okay," I said, raising my hand to keep him from speaking. I didn't want to hear it. I didn't want to be babied and cooed to. "It's fine. I understand." My heart was pounding off the last of its hope and replaced the void with sadness.

"Let me just explain," he pleaded as I tried to walk forward. Too bad he was blocking my path. I would have to brush past him to get up. I didn't even want to be near him. I didn't even want to think that he actually existed. I wanted this to be a horrible nightmare I'd wake up from and laugh about later.

"I really don't want to know," I said truthfully, staring at the stairs harder than ever. Why did I stop here of all places? He was impossible to get around.

"Sash, it's not you," he said, making me wince. I didn't need that fucking line. He was making it worse.

"I know, I know, it's you, right?" I finished hurriedly, "I'd like to go to bed now."

"Sash-"

"I'm sorry, but you have to sleep down here," I told him. He sighed.

"I figured that," he mumbled.

"I can't walk through you," I mumbled back, but he didn't move an inch.

"Sash, I know that I love you," he said and I shook my head.

"I really don't want to hear this," I argued, reaching up to cover my ears like a stubborn five year old. He gripped my wrists before I could and pulled them down to my sides. I gasped at the sudden contact, looking up at him in surprise. He loosened up his grip, probably thinking he was hurting me. He actually was, but the pain in my chest was blocking any other feeling.

"I'm sorry, but you have to hear me out," he said, letting go of my wrists completely. I looked away from his gaze the moment he did, no longer held captive. He apparently wasn't in the mood for my step gazing because he reached up and held my face in both his warm hands. They were clammy against my cheeks, but I didn't complain.

"Go ahead," I finally relented, knowing he wouldn't let me pass until got his little speech off of his chest.

"Thank you," he said, taking a deep breath before continuing. "I love you, Sash, I do... But it hasn't really been that long for us, so I'm not even sure what that love is. I don't know if it's even really love." That hurt despite my hard exterior. I bit my bottom lip. How could he possibly doubt something I'm so sure of? Everyday I love the man more and he doesn't even know if he has love for me at all.

"Thanks, that's what I needed to hear..." I muttered sarcastically. "Can I go to bed now?"

"Don't take that the wrong way, I didn't mean that I don't love you at all. I just mean that I'm trying to distinguish loving you as a friend and actually being in love with you," he tried to explain, but it wasn't helping me at all. "I love Jessica too." I turned my gaze to the wall, fighting the tears. Justin stroked my cheek with his thumb to get my attention, but I didn't turn. He sighed and went on. "I love her and I love you and that's not fair or sensible, so I need to figure out what I'm doing here. I need to figure what each love means. I've been with Jessica for a long time and I've been with you for a couple of months..."

I sniffled and rolled my eyes. "I know that makes me look like shit compared to her-"

"No!" he quickly denied, "Sasheirah, don't ever think that just because I've known you for less time that you don't compare." He snorted a laugh. "You... you don't know how much easier this would be if that were the case."

I slowly moved my gaze from the wall to his face again. "I don't know what to do or feel or say..."

"I don't either," Justin shrugged. "I know that when I'm with you... I feel so good. Like . . . real good. Just...myself, and that's so hard for me to say because there are literally a handful of people who make me feel like that and all of them are family... I mean... I even play a role with Jessica. I have to pretend like I don't think about her and this other guy, but it's mostly what's running through my mind when I'm with her-"

"Then why are you with her?" I asked, feeling a sense of relief now that the question that's been plaguing my mind was going to get answered. "Why are you with somebody who did something that awful to you?" I didn't even try to hold back my confusion and disapproval. Everything was out there. I might as well put it all on the line.

"It's really not that simple..." he said softly, "Somebody could easily ask you the same thing about me." I furrowed my brows.

"How does cheating pertain to you and I?"

"Not cheating, but doing something awful," he clarified, "Sash, I left you and I know you hate it when I say that, but it's true. I know how much of you went into caring about me - how much of you still does - and I told you goodbye anyway. I didn't hesitate because I said that I had to go back to Jessica because we were together longer and that was that. If I were you, I would've deemed myself a douche bag and never would've spoken to me again."

"You had to leave."

"I could've had to stay with you too," he said, "But I made a decision that day that I was leaving to be with Jessica and that you and I would be friends. I made a choice...A choice that I shouldn't have made so quickly. I choice I sometimes regret."

"I don't understand why you're saying this to me," I told him with an exasperated sigh. "Are you telling me you want to be with me and you'll leave her or are you telling me...that you don't and you won't?" He looked away from me for a moment, gathering up his words before returning to my gaze.

"I'm telling you that I wish I could tear myself in two so that I didn't have to choose." I scoffed, removing his hands from my face.

"Well, you can't... have both," I told him, "And you can't expect me to wait around while you choose."

"I would never ask you to do that," he mumbled, "I don't really want to see you with anybody else though-"

"Well that's not your choice!" I yelled, scaring him and myself. The sadness seemed to disappear. I could feel the anger building. I didn't exactly know what or whom I was mad at, but it was there. "Justin, you're playing fuckin' mind games. You say that you love me, but then again, you love her too? What am I suppose to do with that? What am I suppose to say? Do I fight for you or do I give up or do I just wait around and see what happens?"

"You... you do what you feel you have to do," he said, shrugging again, "I don't really know what to say, Sash."

"Do what I feel I have to do..." I repeated, shaking my head, "I feel like I have to be with you or my chest is going to freakin' explode." His eyes warmed and his fingers flexed like they wanted to touch me, but fought against the urge.

"You don't even want to know what I feel," he smirked, like I missed some inside joke. "I'm surprised I haven't gotten myself in trouble yet."

I shook my head again. He was completely unreal. How could he say stuff like that with a straight face and expect me not to get my hopes up? "I hate that you're so complicated."

"I'm sorry," he apologized, "I don't mean to be."

"I don't understand..." I said tiredly, "Why are you trying so hard to fix what she messed up?"

"I'm not the only one trying," he said, "Jessica is working so hard and she's being so perfect right now-"

"Yeah, right now," I emphasized, "But what about later?" He shrugged.

"I dunno," he told me simply, "I just don't want to be the one to make assumptions about the future because of the past. We all made our mistakes."

"Stepping on somebody's foot is a mistake," I argued, "Spelling a word wrong or confusing a stranger as somebody you know is a mistake. Getting on your back and spreadin' 'em, that's not a mistake."

"Sash, wouldn't you want to be forgiven if you did the same to me?"

"I wouldn't have to worry about that because I would never cheat on you," I said with certainty.

"I wouldn't expect you to, but that's when it happens - when we least it expect it."

"Oh, so now I'm going to cheat on you too?" I asked in disbelief.

"No, I'm not saying that," he said, "I'm just saying that if you did, you would like it if I gave you the second chance."

"You don't have to give someone a second chance in order to forgive them."

"So you wouldn't give me a second chance?" he asked, "If I cheated on you?"

"Would you cheat on me?" I shot back.

"It's highly unlikely. People who cheat are unsatisfied in their relationships in some way and I can't imagine ever being unsatisfied with you or anybody else I choose to be with because once I love somebody, they're pretty much it for me." I wanted to slap him for that one. If once he loved somebody, that's it, why am I still waiting on the sidelines to see what happens?

"I can't imagine Jessica being unsatisfied."

"Well... I work a lot," he told me, "I was rarely home around that time."

"You were around enough to possibly impregnate her." He looked down at the steps and my heart ached a little more when I saw the pain flash across his face.

"True..." he said, "But people get lonely."

"Don't excuse her," I demanded. "If she were lonely, she should've called you."

"Probably, but I also should've called her more and worked out my schedule better so that I could see her for longer periods of time rather than just a day or two in a row," he said, "I made mistakes too, Sash. I'm not perfect." All I heard was Angel in my head, badgering me about his 'needs' and how they weren't being met because of my crazy schedule. Didn't I get lonely too? Didn't I have needs as well?

"I know that, but you don't deserve to get cheated on."

"I think you've built me up too much in your head," he smirked. "I kinda set myself up for these things."

"Justin, you're annoying and clingy and freakishly neat," I said, "You sing obnoxiously in the shower, regardless of the time or who's sleeping, you talk with food in your mouth, and you eat and take things without permission. You're cocky and overly romantic, and too optimistic, sometimes to the point of being unrealistic, and you're completely indecisive a large percentage of the time - for example: whether or not you love me; and you don't take no for an answer when you really want to get your way-"

"Wow, is that all?" he smiled.

"You're also really sarcastic," I smiled softly in return, but it fell, "None of those reasons are reason enough to accept being cheated on. None of those reasons are enough to put yourself through the torture of forgiving somebody of cheating through a second chance at the relationship."

"It's not torture," he sighed, "Jessica is really great... Under different circumstances, I think you'd like her."

"I doubt it," I argued, "Cheaters and I don't get along very well."

"Fair enough, but honestly, she can be really great," he muttered. I rolled my eyes as pangs of jealousy stabbed my stomach. "She's trying so hard."

"Then give her a damn 'A' for effort!" I barked, "Don't waste your time being with her. I mean... Could you ever really trust her again? You're going to be looking over your shoulder for the rest of your relationship, wondering where she's going and whom she's seeing... If Angel hadn't left me, I would have never taken him back because I would be climbing up the walls with paranoia."

"Very true, but Jessica's worrying too," he said, "She cheated and she's trying to fight for me and I take a vacation a month after I just got home. A month after we just started to try and make things work, I go visit a friend - a female friend - she's never met before. What do you think she's thinking right now?" I shrugged, not wanting to give him the answer. "She thinks that I'm banging some nameless broad right now just to spite her and she can't say a thing to me because she feels so guilty about cheating. She actually told me I had permission to do it because it would serve her right." He laughed at how absurd it was and shook his head. "I guess I am kind of doing that."

"Doing what?" I asked.

"Taking advantage of my get-out-cheating-free card," he told me, "At least emotionally. I cheat on her with you everyday because I've allowed myself to be around you even though I know the consequences." I furrowed my brows, confused again. Was I anything else around Justin these days?

"What consequences?" I asked. He sighed, like I was so slow that I frustrated him and reached for my hand. He stared at my fingers as he idly played with them. His fingers moved forward, smoothing up my arms and back down again. I shivered involuntarily at his touch and he smirked.

"If I'm not in love with you now, Sash," he said softly, "I'm certain that I'm falling. Really fast. It's actually scaring me a bit. I've never been so close to cheating on someone in my life." I was a bit shocked by his words, but quickly recovered.

"You don't have to be scared of what you're feeling," I said, moving up to him. My hands rested on his hips as I stood on a stair higher so that we were eye to forehead. The ratio would never be quite right. I was ridiculously short. "Justin, you can just be with me..." I tilted my head a bit, my lips dangerously close to his. I felt light headed. When did I move in this much?

"I can't just leave-" He cut his sentence short when I kissed the corner of his mouth. "Sash, please." He wanted me to pull away, but I refused. I kissed the other side of his mouth instead.

"I didn't say leave her," I clarified, leaning back a bit to look him in the eye. "I just said be with me." His eyes glanced down at my lips and back at me. Somehow, I lost my mind. A part of me thought that I could have him now. In this fleeting moment, I could have him. A couple of hours of toe curling sex and I'd at least solidify that he wanted me. Really wanted me.

His eyes washed over me with a look of consideration and passion as his thumb ran across my full lips. I kissed it and brushed my cheek against his hand as it rested on the side of my face. Warm and soft. I missed just being this close to him. I denied myself so much physical contact and now... Now I wanted it all. I wanted his hands and lips and. body everywhere. I didn't want him to miss a single spot.

I didn't realize I had closed my eyes until I had to open them to look up at his baby face. He looked sad now. His eyes were still dark and lustful, but he was hesitant. I panicked a bit, taking his hand gently from my face and kissing his palm. He sighed, again brushing my lips with his fingers.

"I don't want to hurt anybody," he told me in a whisper, sounding ashamed. I felt my guilt rise. I tried to swallow it down.

"Somebody always gets hurt anyway," I said, not entirely sure why I did, but I said it nonetheless. It didn't seem to help my case any. He pulled his hand away slowly and looked to the side, away from my pleading face.

"I don't want to be that guy to you or Jessica," he said, clearing his throat nervously. "I'm sorry, Sash." The stinging of rejection shot through me as I nodded. He didn't turn to face me as he backed up, giving us normal distance again and a path for me to walk upstairs. I knew I shouldn't have been so sad and shocked, but I was. A part of me had leaned heavily on the fact that he'd at least want me physically. He was a man, after all, but I Justin wasn't normal. He was complicated, even in simple cases of sexual desire.

I didn't say anything as I turned and took the last few steps upstairs. I glanced over the banister as I walked up the hall to my room. Justin was still standing there, staring off to the side. I turned away from the scene as crept into my room. I quickly hit the light switch to darken the room. I didn't want to get a clear view of myself as I passed my bureau's mirror. The tears were flooding my face now and I knew I looked a hot mess. It wouldn't help my self-esteem much to see myself like that.

I slid into my bed and laid my head on my pillow. The smell of his cologne and Irish Springs soap lingered on it. My tears came a little faster and a sob escaped my throat. I wasn't really regretful. I wasn’t really feeling stupid for telling him. I did feel sad. I felt sad because I knew that nothing would be good again. I felt sad because I knew that his plan to extend his vacation was over. I knew that our friendship, facade or not, would cease to exist.

I couldn't stand to be his friend and now that he knew, I couldn't even pretend that friendship was fine. It was all or nothing and since I certainly couldn't have it all, I was stuck with nothing in return. That is what my tears were for. That's why I couldn't stop the sobs from coming. That's why Justin being able to hear me didn't make me want to stop.

It was all over.

-----------------------------------------------

I woke up the next morning with a tear stained face. My eyes were tight and narrow as the sun blazed across my room. For a moment in my sleepy haze, the light of the sun was refreshing and reassuring, but everything from last night came crashing into me as I turned to stretch in my empty bed. I yawned and blinked my eyes into focus as I sat up while rubbing my face.

Everything looked the same. My room was how it was for as long as I could remember, and yet, it was changed completely. I slipped from the bed, tripping on my laptop cord as I turned towards the door. I caught myself against the door and shook my head. That's the way to start my day - completely off balance. How symbolic?

I crept down the hall quietly, but I heard the morning news on downstairs. He was still here. I sighed, a part of me wishing he'd gotten on his plane and flew away in the middle of the night, but another part of me glad to see him one last time. I shook my head and focused on going to the bathroom. I washed up and changed back in my room before walking downstairs. My gray shorts and white tank would be the last thing he'd see me in. My ponytail and hoop earrings would be my hairstyle and jewelry of his memory. Should I have worn something more appropriate? A black dress maybe? It was a funeral after all. Something certainly died.

"Hey..." Justin greeted as my foot hit the last stair. His voice washed over me as I turned to face him. He sat on the edge of the couch, a mug of coffee in his hands. He wore of a gray t-shirt and dark blue jeans. His feet were covered in fresh white Nikes and a Yankee's baseball cap was tossed haphazardly on the cushion beside him. His luggage was neatly tucked in the corner by the door. I noticed it on my way down the steps.

"Hey," I greeted back, trying to sound nonchalant, "You leaving?" He nodded, glancing at the luggage by the door and back at me.

"Mike's on his way," he said, "I was going to wake you when he came."

"I would've understood if you didn't," I said, staring at the floor.

"I wouldn't leave like that," he assured as I met his gaze again, "I feel bad for leaving now."

"I didn't expect you to stay."

"I'm running away from you," he laughed at himself in embarrassment, "You probably already know that."

"Yeah..." I said, trailing off.

"I don't know when I'm coming back," he told me as I sat on the couch beside him. I kept a reasonably distance when I did so.

I shrugged, not really knowing what to say. "I won't be holding my breath." He nodded despite the pained look on his face. "Don't get me wrong... I'll miss you, but I can't keep this up. I can't keep torturing myself. I feel like if you stay around, it'll just get worse. I don't want you to go, but I can't have you stay either."

"I know and that's why I'm leaving," he told me sadly, "I don't want to hurt you Sash. It's selfish to keep myself around you knowing that you feel the way you do and knowing I feel the way I do. I'm not giving you or Jessica a chance. I don't think I deserve either one of you."

"I think that you need to not be so hard on yourself. None of this is your fault," I assured, coming to a realization. "You and I weren't supposed to cross paths. I know that Matthew had this messed up theory that this was destiny, but the universe isn't kind enough to give us second chances at life. You can't scream 'Do over!' and get your mistakes erased so you don't have to worry about the past. It might've worked when we were kids, but adults are far more complex. You should know that better than anyone."

"You're right, but you're wrong, Sash," he said, "I think I was suppose to meet you."

"Yeah, so I could save your sorry ass from freezing to death outside," I said, "That's about it though. We're not together. We're not even friends, really..."

"We always sucked at giving each other titles," Justin mumbled, "I guess you're right."

"I usually am," I joked and he smiled weakly in return. We sat in silence until his phone rang and Mike told him he was outside. He hung up and stood as I did the same, following him to the door as he picked up his luggage piece by piece. He turned to face me once he got all his bags in hands.

"Well, I guess we say goodbye," he announced. I walked up and kissed his cheek tenderly before pulling away.

"Goodbye, Justin," I said, "Have a good flight and. life." The last word choked out of my throat and Justin furrowed his brows in concern.

"Goodbye, Sash," he said softly, "Take care of you." I fought tears as flashbacks of our first goodbye ran through my mind. It felt so fresh and the wounds tore open as he stared down at me in silence. I nodded my head staring at his chest as I willed my tears back. Fucking hell, I hated this part. I always hated this part.

Justin seemed to hate it too as he suddenly dropped all of his bags wrapped me tightly into his arms. He lifted me off the ground for a moment before placing me back on the floor. He didn't stop hugging me though. I squeezed him tightly, knowing that engraving his scent into my brain would cause me a great deal of pain later, but I couldn't stop. I wanted to remember him, just a little longer.

He held me for a moment more before leaning back to kiss my cheek and forehead. His lips lingered on my head a second longer than normal before he pulled completely away. He looked me over, up and down, and stared into my eyes. Mike beeped outside impatiently and he sighed in annoyance.

"Don't keep him waiting," I told him with a weak smile. My cheeks wet with silent tears. Justin wiped my face off with his hands before picking up his luggage again quickly. I walked around him to open the door, seeing the oversize black Suburban double-parked by my Lexus. Mike waved him towards the car and Justin rolled his eyes and turned back to me.

"I'm really sorry," he told me and I nodded.

"Me too." He looked me over one last time before he turned reluctantly and headed down the stairs. Mike exited the car to help him with his bags. Justin slipped into the backseat, waving at me one last time before closing the door behind him. I just smiled weakly back as Mike gave me a friendly wave and hopped into the driver's seat. The car started and I back into my house before the SUV's horn stopped my footsteps.

Before I could understand what was going on, Justin flew out of the car and ran towards me. His hands latched onto the side of my face before his lips crashed on top of mine. My breath caught in my throat as he ravished my mouth with his own. It took me a minute to fall into rhythm with him, but I moaned when I did, gripping his hair in my small hands. His hands gripped my waist as he kissed me deeply. His tongue ran smoothly against mine before his kisses grew more languid and fleeting. I tried to kiss again with the same feverish passion his started with, but he had successfully detached me from him. His mouth was red and wet from our kiss and I could feel my lips swell as well. He held my chin in his hands and looked me in the eyes, both of us trying to catch our breath.

"I guess that's cheating, but I'll never get to kiss you again," he told me, "I had to do it one last time." I moved up quickly and kissed him again. My lips moved his until he whimpered. I pulled back and brushed our noses as I stood on the tips of my toes.

"I love you," I said, staring him right into his eyes, "I had to say it one last time." He swallowed audibly and gave me a peck on the lips before pulling away. He walked silently down the stairs as I watched. I wanted to tell him to come back, but I knew that he wouldn't. He did, however, stop before he entered the car to toss me a carefree smile as if this were a good thing. I had to smile back because I wanted him to see this when he thought of me - a smile on my face and love in my heart.

I watched him get into his fancy SUV. The sound of it closing seemed louder than usual on my empty block. It resounded in my head and chest. My knees buckled at the sound and I gripped the doorframe to keep myself balanced. The reality of the situation weighed heavily on my shoulders as the car jetted away. I wondered if Mike were impatient or if Justin requested a hurried exit. Was he fighting against the urge to give me one last kiss or was Mike not willing to bare witness any further public displays of affection?

I bit my bottom lip as it quivered, tears blinding my vision. What the hell did it matter anyway? He was gone now. Back to her. Away from me. Just like it was suppose to be.

"So... he just left?"

I rolled my eyes and sighed for the millionth time. "Yes, Clare, he left." I didn't even bother looking over my shoulder at her expression. I've seen that same expression for the last three weeks in the mirror. The look of disbelief, confusion, and sadness. You and I both, Clare. You and I both.

"But he kissed you like he wanted to make your babies on the front steps," she continued as I plopped down on her sofa and ate the kernels of popcorn that were tossed over the edge of the bowl I'd forgotten was next to me.

"I'm well aware of that," I said with a mouthful, "I was there." I was certainly there and I wish I hadn't been. If I didn't suffer through that terrible farewell, I wouldn't have been so distraught at work that Clare wouldn't have wanted me to get my brain scanned to make sure a vein hadn't popped. Futhermore, I wouldn't have had to tell her what happened between Justin and I. I was so embarassed, hurt, and isolated within myself that I didn't speak to anybody. Even my mother's been blowing up my phone, trying to see if I was dead or alive. I still haven't called her to let her know I was breathing... I wasn't so sure about the alive part though.

"Lucky," she mumbled and I wondered if she wanted me to hear that. "That doesn't make any damn sense."

"It makes perfect sense," I defended, the scene replaying in my head so vividly that my lips twitched. "It was the last kiss he was giving me. He had to make it good."

"Why? So you can never get it out of that big ol' head of yours?" I rolled my eyes and popped more kernels into my mouth.

"I always replay anything he does in my head," I said, "That's just a given."

"But he kissed you like-"

"Clare, please, I know," I interrupted, picking up her remote to put the television on video mode. She was leaning by the DVD player, popping in our next movie of the night: Waiting To Exhale.

"All I'm saying is that the boy kissed you like he didn't want you to forget him... and then he leaves. Where's the sense in that?" I shrugged when she finally pushed play and walked over to me. I picked of the popcorn just as she sank into the cushion beside me.

"Him and I didn't make much sense from the beginning, so don't expect us to start now," I half-heartedly joked.

"I was so sure he was going to just say he loved you too," Clare rambled on, "I mean... he kinda said it, but he didn't at the same time. That's never really happened before."

"Can we watch the movie now?" I asked, staring intently at the screen, but not really seeing it. Justin was the only thing running through my mind and I wasn't surprised at all by the different flashes of his image. Every smile, smirk, laugh, grin, and sexy eyebrow arch engraved in my head. I could practically smell his cologne and Irish Springs soap.

"It's nothing but previews," Clare said, snatching the remote from my hands to pause the screen. "Sash, I'm worried about you." I rolled my eyes.

"Clare, relax please..." I groaned, "I'm not going to kill myself or set shit on fire. I'm fine. I cried most of it out the first week and I've actually benefited from this because I've been working out to get rid of some of the stress." She was giving me a disbelieving look, but she gave me a once over glance and nodded.

"Okay...since you're not dead or anything close to sickly, I'll take your word for it," she told me with irritation in her tone, "But the first sign of trouble, Sash, and I'm living with you for the rest of your life." I rolled my eyes and laughed at her absurd threat.

"Clare, don't try and use me as an excuse to escape your husband and child."

"Damn, am I really that transparent?" she joked along, nudging me a little with a laugh. "But seriously... that was mean."

"What was mean?" I asked, distracted by the salty sweet goodness of the kettle corn flavored kernels - my favorite.

"Him kissing you like that." I slowed my chewing and stared at her. "I mean... he knows how much you were going to miss him and he kissed you like it was nobody's business just knowing that you were going to replay it over and over again... Plus he's still going back to that Jessica girl... I don't know. It just seems like a cruel tease." She shrugged and I nodded a bit in agreement. My heart felt like someone was tearing it apart, layer by layer. It was a slow, dull, torturous pain that I learned to ignore during a busy day, but felt during quieter moments like this. I sighed.

"I would've missed him just as much anyway," I defended unconvincingly, "I don't regret kissing him."

"You just wish you could kiss him some more though," Clare said, "That's why it was a cruel thing for him to do. Give you want you want and take it right back. It's like giving a dehydrated man a sip of water and pouring the rest of the bottle down a drain."

"It's whatever, Clare," I said dismissively, "My dehydrated ass will gladly sip my bottle of water and eat my kettle corn while we watch this movie." She rolled her eyes, but pressed play. I could feel her burning a hole into the side of my head as I stared intently at the screen, but she stopped after about fifteen minutes, getting into the film and no longer in my face about Justin. I wish I could have done that, but I wasn't paying any attention to the film. I was so upset that I was having a hard time just sitting there. I felt the urge to cry, but I pushed it back. That man had enough tears from me to fill the Nile river. I refused to shed anymore, especially with Clare as an audience. That would just be the apocolypse. She'd probably march on down to Los Angeles and demand that he'd love me so I would get out of my rut.

Demand. Why did it hurt ten times worse to know that he'd have to be forced into loving me? I shook my head sadly. One more negative thought piled on top of my shit cake.

"What is it?" Clare asked quietly. I shook my head again to dismiss her.

"Nothing," I said quickly, pretending to be annoyed that she interrupted my movie time.

"You know you suck at lying, right?"

"Apparently," I mumbled. "If I could've lied better, I wouldn't be in this mess."

"What is that suppose to mean?" she asked and I shrugged.

"I guess if I lied to him about how I felt longer..." I sighed. "I dunno. Watch the movie." Life would only be so kind if she listened, but instead, she paused to scene again and faced me.

"If you lied any longer, you would've been running around, loving him more and more everyday. And for what? This?" She gestured toward me with a sour face. "I know you may not believe me, but this would've hurt a hell of a lot more a couple of months down the line. And what if it took you years?" she asked, "What if you were loving him in the shadows for years and years and then BOOM! The bomb drops."

"Why are so convinced that he'd never leave Jessica and I'd always be stuck in the friend zone?" I asked. She was going to make me develop a complex, if I hadn't already.

"Because he's a man and he's stupid," she told me, "That boy is so hell bent on making that Jessica girl feel better about herself that he would stay with her forever just so he didn't have to feel guilty. The most he would've given you was woman-on-the-side position, which you gladly would've taken, but eventually gotten sick of."

Oh, she knew me too well. I blinked and looked away. "I'm not that easy."

"You're that desperate because you love him," she told me gently, "If my husband was in the same shit as Justin, I'd be his side piece too. I love that man too much to let him go."

"That's different, you and him have something."

"And you and Justin don't?" she asked, confused.

"It's different, y'all had years and years," I explained, "You doing that is something I can understand, but even I can't get my head around my desperation. I knew him for three or four months now. Not even half a year and look at me? What the fuck happened?" I asked, more to myself. "I was never like this. Hell, when Angel was trying to get with me, it took him at least two months to get a date out of me. Justin has gotten everything and still has me mopin' around, watching feminist 'I hate men' movies and stuffing my face with kettle corn." I angrily threw some popcorn into my mouth. "I'm pathetic."

"You're in a different kind of love," Clare smiled and I wanted to get the joke. "You said it yourself, you guys weren't suppose to happen."

"What does that even mean?"

"That means that he was already under your skin before you realized it," she explained, "The moment you think a guy is trying to get with you, your walls build up, but Matthew was somebody completely unexpected. You didn't really feel the need to guard your heart until... Well, until he already had it. He was your friend before you realized he was something more." I rolled my eyes at her philosophy, stuffing more kernels into my mouth.

"I think I was dickwhipped and taken down while I was all doey-eyed and defenseless. That should be a crime."

"I'll write to the senate," she laughed, "At least he left though. He walked away so you'd get over him."

"I really wish I believed that," I sighed, "I just wish I were stronger though. I just wish I wouldn't let this get to me like this..." I trailed off, feeling myself choke up. Don't cry. Don't cry. Don't cry. I felt Clare hug me around the shoulders, rubbing my arms briefly like my mother would.

"Girl, you'll be fine in no time," she whispered to me, "Your heart will be like new and you'll be thinking 'Justin who?'"

"And then I'll be thinking 'Justin Timberlake, that's who'." Clare snickered and I cracked a smile at my pathetic self. "I'm really whiney right now, huh?" She nodded and gave me a squeeze.

"That's okay though," she assured, "You're PMSing too, so I'll excuse you big time." As if on que, a cramp shot through me as I wished my fucking ovaries away.

"I feel disgusting all around," I pouted, "I think I need to lay down." Clare nodded, scooting over and placing one of her couch pillows on her lap. I laid my head on top of it and stretched my petite frame along her sofa. She gave my head a gentle pet as I pouted some more. I couldn't imagine how horrible I looked in my grey sweats and oversized t-shirt. No make up, a messy ponytail, and popcorn crumbs all over my face. I was a living, breathing ad for an anti-depressant.

The movie ran on and on and felt a little better as I watched all the characters lash out on their men, but I felt like I wasn't really angry with Justin at all. Just sad. There wasn't an angry bone in my body directed at him, so the movie only helped my inner feminist, but not my broken heart. My stomach felt queasy as munched on the popcorn I was hugging to my chest.

"Clare?" I called out, feeling shy all of a sudden as my question seemed immature.

"What is it?" she asked distractedly as she stared at the screen.

"How do I get over him?" I asked, "How do I forget about him when I don't want to?" The movie paused as she shifted in her seat. My head rocked, but I remained on her lap.

"Well..." She paused thoughtfully, "First thing's first, you take care of you. Eat well, sleep well, and don't stop doing what you love because it reminds you of him or you lose focus. You had a life before him, so don't ruin it. Secondly, it'll probably be easier if you got rid of the things he gave or left behind." My eyes immediately fell to the charmbracelet wrapped around my wrist. I tucked my arm beneath my side.

"But I love this bracelet," I whined.

"You don't have to throw it out, but at least pack it up," she said, "You can't have reasons to love him in your face when you're trying to stop loving him." I agreed automatically and made a mental not to find a pack-away box once I got home in the morning. I was still pouting in protest as I nodded.

"Okay," I relented.

"Also, maybe you should try dressing up more and going out sometime... Maybe date around and test some new waters."

"I'm not trying to date," I said dismissively, "I just want to be alone for as long as possible."

"Well, you can at least have some fun and flirt a little," she encouraged and I rolled my eyes.

"Next," I said dismissively and she sucked her teeth.

"Fine, don't go out, but go do your hair and get your names done or something," she said, pulling at my sweat pants, "Do you own anything other than these?"

"I got a couple of jeans, but PMS equals sweats," I reminded, "Give me about three more days and you've got yourself a deal."

"Cool," she said, "But yeah... that's about it. You have to give it time. It's gonna take you twice as long to get over him as it did for you to fall for him."

"Well, shit, that won't take long, now will it?" I mumbled to myself and Clare chuckled.

"You'll be fine and that's all that matters," Clare cooed, "You're a lot stronger than you're giving yourself credit for. You're doing quite well for yourself as is. Just take deep breaths and it'll all work out soon." I nodded.

"Thanks," I smiled, "I knew there was a reason why I kept you around."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah..." Clare grumbled, restarting the movie. I sighed to myself, smiling softly as I watched the scene in front of me unfold. My chest still ached with the dull, tortorous pain, but I knew one day it would stop and that was enough to make my smile stay. As much as I didn't want to forget him, I knew that it was best that I did. He was happy where he was. Apparently Jessica meant a lot more to him than I realized and I need to accept that him and I just aren't meant for each other.

He was Justin Timberlake, international popstar, and I was Sasheirah Hanes, Temple University nurse. I almost laughed at the ridiculous comparison. How could that ever work? It was stupid and so were we to think that reality would allow us to be together. As if the world would be that kind. That's all Justin wanted me to see. He wanted me to know that Jessica was right for him because she was from his world. He had to reject me to spare me future hurt. Breaking my heart now was probably the biggest favor he could have done for me.

I've seen those tabloids and those all access shows. I saw how the scrutinized and criticized and stalked celebrities in their everyday lives. I didn't want or need to be a part of that world. I ignored that side of Justin as best I could, but if we were ever together, I would be forced into it and eaten alive. We would have been torn apart anyway. Like Clare said, better now than years from now. This hurt was dull, but I'm sure it would grow sharper down the line.

Yes, he did me a favor. I would stop loving him. I would forget him. I will move on. It was what I had to do.

-----------------------------------------------

I lied to her. I lied to myself. I lie to everybody. I don't really know what my problem is. Why I can't just be a man and admit that I'm a fuck up. That I am that guy. That I'm the one who cheats and can't keep his heart in the right place. It's funny though, of all the cheating in the world I could be doing, keeping it in my pants wasn't my problem. Keeping it in my godforsaken heart was. My body oozed with love for her. My lips twitched at the thought of her lips, covered in sheer gloss that tasted like sweet menthol the last time I kissed them. My hands shook at the memories of her warm skin beneath them as they trailed up her thighs. Then my groin tightened as I agonized over her pleading face that faithful night when she asked me - almost begged me - to just make love to her.

That was painful. Not just because my balls have never been bluer after that, but because of the look on her face right before I turned away and told her no. Everything in me was screaming 'what are you doing!', but I knew full well that when morning came, there wouldn't be enough passionate sex in the world to make my pussy ass go back to Jessica and face her like that, knowing I did something that horrible behind her back.

Yes, she cheated on me. I remind myself of that everyday, trying to justify my selfish actions and feelings, however, I can't play the guilt card with her. I took her back. I said she was worth forgiving and the relationship was worth fighting for. I wordlessly gave her my word that I wouldn't use her past actions against her. I couldn't go back on that to cover my ass the moment I slipped up and slipped inside of Sash.

Damn, I shouldn't have thought of that. I had to shake my head to get the sound of her moaning out of it. God, she was the sexiest woman in the world in bed. It was the only time she let her guard down completely. She was so open, not embarassed to show she wanted me more than anything. Not ashamed to call my name. Not afraid to beg for me to go faster, deeper, harder... It was beautiful and the best sex I have ever had.

Yes, it was. I never wanted anybody the way that I wanted her. It was so much deeper than the physical. It was the emotional part that made the sex so good. Don't get me wrong, she knew what she was doing and how to work, but there was never that much of thrill with other women. They were open to me the moment they laid eyes on me. The groupies I fucked with on tours were already saying they loved me before I said hello and the other women I've dated didn't have half the guard that Sasheirah did. I was always the slow one, taking it one step at a time while they waited for me to open up. Sash was so much harder to deal with. It took a lot of work to get through those walls...but when I finally did, I got on a plane and left her to bleed.

"You're an asshole," I said outloud to myself as I laid in bed. I glanced over at the nightstand to my left as I sat up against my pillows. The red, gleaming numbers of the alarm clock said 2:38 AM. Jessica shifted beside me and mumbled something in her sleep as I turned and faced her. A mass of dirty blonde hair covered her face before I slowly reached over and tucked it behind her ear. She smirked in her sleep briefly before becoming still again.

She looked beautiful in the moonlight as it came in from my glass balcony doors. She didn't even snore. She was at peace in her sleep. She slept on her stomach and never moved unless she shifted a bit and then stopped. I've watched her do it for the last three weeks because I haven't slept for more than four hours at a time. I go to sleep, see Sash's face, and get up again, thinking for hours and hours about her. It didn't help that I kept my camera beneath my pillow at night.

It was in my hands now though, weighing like a million pounds as guilt washed over me. I powered it up and put it into playback mode. I used the cross directions to navigate through the photos of Sash and I on my 'vacation'. They were mostly pictures from our shopping adventure, but they were enough to get me through the night and early morning hours. They were something to look forward to when Jess was asleep and not aware that my cheating heart was still... cheating.

My eyes hungrily drank in the images on the LCD screen. I zoomed into her face on most and just marveled at her features, rebuilding them in my head. It was never quite right though, not as beautiful as the real thing in front of me. There were times when I got her face wrong, even by the tip of her nose, and I'd get so upset. How could I forget anything about a face like that? Even so, her face haunted me. Her voice echoed in my head. Her scent lingered in my nose. She always smelled so good and felt so soft.

My stomached knotted up in a vicious ball of distress as my emotional pain turned physical. I missed her so much it was literally hurting me. I had to hug myself and sigh to feel a bit better.

"Justin?" Jessica's tired groan caused me to straighten out and I quickly turned off the camera as she groggily sat up. I discreetly placed it under the blanket beside me and away from her.

"Shh.." I cooed as she searched the room for my face with her hands until they rested on my cheek. I smiled reassuringly. "Go back to sleep, baby. Everything's fine."

"What were you doing with that?" she asked quietly and I freigned confusion.

"With what?" I asked.

"The camera," she clarified, "You just had it." Damn it. She was too aware, even at almost three in the morning and half asleep.

"Nothing," I lied, "I was just going through some old stuff. Deleting what I didn't want."

"At three in the morning?" she ask suspiciously and I shrugged.

"I can't sleep," I said, answering honestly for once. Her face saddened at the news.

"Is this not comfortable for you?" she asked, scooting over to the farside of the bed. "I didn't cuddle you or anything, did I?" I frowned. Was I that much of a bastard that I couldn't let her cuddle me? She spoke the words and it hurt that something as loving and affectionate as cuddling with her would upset and discomfort me. I wanted to hug her to show her that she didn't repulse me, but I stayed in place. I hadn't touched her in so long that I didn't know if the awkwardness of it would confuse itself with disgust anyway. I didn't want to upset her more with that confusion, so I stayed in place.

"No, it's not that," I assured, "You didn't do anything. I just need to take a walk around the house... Get some tea or hot chocolate..." She was already jumping out of bed.

"I'll get it for you," she announced, slipping on her flip flops.

"No, I've got it," I told her, standing as well.

"No, please," she told me, always sounding desperate like her life depended on it, "Let me get it for you. I'll be right back." She shot out of the room before I could protest again and I sighed to myself, falling back onto the bed. The ceiling seemed higher than usual as I stared at the white boring paint that covered it. I listened intently for any sound of Jessica, but the kitchen was too far away... or Jessica was just too quiet.

I didn't put it past her. She was walking on eggshells constantly and did everything in her power to make sure nothing annoyed or upset me. I wasn't even allowed to make my own tea in the middle of the night. And for what? What was she trying so hard to obtain? Was I really worth the anguish of it all? Was I worth the drama?

I couldn't say yes because I didn't feel it. Everything in me knew that I was wasting my time and I was especially wasting hers.

I took a couple more minutes, but I finally heard her footsteps and the sound of a spoon clanking against my mug. She crept into the room, cooling the tea mixture with steady blows from inbetween her full, pursed lips. She smiled softly at me, almost proud in a strange way as I sat up to accept the cup from her hands.

"It's pomegranate green tea," she told me as I raised a brow.

"I ran out this morning," I said.

"I know," she said, "But I looked up a recipe online for a homemade version and got some stuff from the market. It's better than the box. It's real pomegranate juice."

"Thanks," I smiled, blowing on the hot liquid before taking a sip. The tea heated up my throat and chest in a comforting way and was sweet against my tongue.

"Definitely better than the box," I assured, "This is really good. It was really sweet of you to look it up." She shrugged like it was nothing and waved me off shyly. I was shocked by how saddened I was in that moment as I watched her bow her head and play with her fingers awkwardly. I realized that I had no idea who she was anymore because the Jessica I loved wasn't some fragile mess that wasted her precious time googling recipes for pomegranate green tea just to make me happy. The Jessica I knew would have punched me in the arm if I woke her at three in the morning because I wanted tea. The Jessica I saw in front of me had no back bone and slouched like she was always in fear of something. Something like losing me.

I stopped sipping the tea, feeling nauseated all of a sudden as Jessica walked around to the other side of the bed and climbed in gently, most likely not wanting me to be disturbed by her movement. I placed the mug on top of my night stand, blocking the clock's red numbers and covered it with the CD case I mindlessly left there earlier.

I settled back into bed and Jessica turned onto her stomach and faced the opposite direction of me. I bit my bottom lip and slowly reached around her waist. She stiffened at the contact, but let go of a breath slowly as I rolled her over to face me and pulled her flush against me. Her arm hugged my waist as well as she snuggled her face into my chest. I took in the scent of her hair and it smelled like strawberries. I used to love that smell. It always drove me crazy and even now I felt a tiny jump in my chest... but it wasn't the same. None of it was the same.

And if none of it was the same - the woman, the love, the smell of her hair and what it did to me - , what the hell was I fighting for? What was I wasting my time and her time for? Why was I still lying in a bed with a body that was warm, but distant and unfamiliar?

I realized it was because I didn't want to break another heart. To make another tear fall and hear the sobs escape the throat of a woman whose pain was unbearable to watch shoot through her eyes as she fell apart in front of me. I didn't want to be hated again or viewed as a monster. I didn't want to be cold and indifferent to somebody's feelings again just so I could be a better man. I was too scared to face the drama, but I knew that in time, I would grow tired of my games and so would she. By that time she would be bitter. She would have grown to hate me anyhow and her heart would shatter into a million pieces in an angry crash against the floor.

The body in my arms was breathing soundlessly and steadily. She was asleep. My heart was pounding anxiously for the arrival of morning. There was no need to beat around the bush. It would be quick and as straight to the point as possible without sounding mean. There was no point in prolonging the inevitable, I thought to myself as I gave her waist a tiny squeeze. A hug goodbye, I concluded as her unsuspecting form slept night away.

I jumped back as a loud smack against the lounge table and a gust of wind hit me all at once. My chair squeaked against the tiled floor before I caught sight of the Us Weekly magazine slapped down in front of me by a tiny brown hand. I followed the length of the arm it was attached to and glared at Clare.

"You almost gave me a heart attack," I whined, but she just smiled at me, tapping the magazine with her stubby finger.

"You don't see that?" she asked and I glanced down at the magazine again. This time it was clear and I wondered how I missed the front page news.

I wrinkled my nose at the distasteful display of the mugshot-like photos of Jessica and Justin. Their heads were angled off to look like they were glaring at each other and I damned Photoshop to hell for a moment.

"That's terrible," I mumbled and I honestly felt bad even though my heart had a lept a little at the news. Not that it meant anything. They could be engaged still for all I know. These magazines never got anything right.

"Terrible?!" Clare squaked out and I grimaced. "This fantastic!"

"How the hell is this fantastic?" I asked.

"Girl, don't you see?" she asked and I blinked and stared at her. "He's coming to his senses! This is the first step! He broke up with her-"

"Wait, hold the fuckin' phone," I interrupted, "Are you honestly pushing this issue again? I could've sworn that two weeks you were telling me to get over him." I was angered by her switch. She was my only support system and now she was turning her back on me for an Us Weekly.

"No, two weeks ago it was you asking me how to get over him," she corrected. "What kind of friend would I be to not give you some tips? I never said I agreed with what you were doing." I stared at the puppy cartoon prints on her scrubs and tried to gather my thoughts. In two weeks, I only thought of him every hour or so which was amazing since I usually didn't go a second. I was making quick improvements and now she was standing in front of me, telling me it was a mistake.

"Clare, I don't understand," I said, "You were as confused as I was about him and now your his cheerleader again."

"Girl, I was confused because he kissed you like he wanted to stay and then left. And now, look. He left so he could leave Miss. Biel and come back to you." She smiled to assure me, but doubts filled my stomach with knots as I picked up the magazine and stared at the headline. The split must have been old since there were 'new' details on it. I wrinkled my nose because I felt stupid for thinking of how cute Justin looked with that mean face they had him wearing.

"Clare, this is nothing," I said, willing myself to look away from the picture of him to look up at her. "It's a tabloid and they lie all the time just to sell."

"They have personal sources dishing out the details," Clare argued back, "Besides, they haven't been seen together recently, which is really strange since they were always together."

"There's always a 'source'," I said, rolling my eyes, "And so what if they aren't spending every waking moment together, it doesn't mean it's over. They might just be taking a break."

"Or they might have broken up," Clarissa pressed on, "Why aren't you glad about this? Don't you want him back?" My chest tightened at the question because it was being pulled in two directions: yes and no. For the first time, I was honestly not sure if I wanted Justin. Him being single and ready to mingle (hopefully with me) was appealing, but at the same time terrifying.

Clare took my pause as an apocolyptic sign of danger and gasped dramatically. "No! Don't you dare say you're over him!" I rolled my eyes at her dramatics.

"Clare, first off, I'd like to keep this conversation within the confines of this room," I said, glancing around the white lounge area to make sure we were alone, "Secondly, I'm not over him... yet. But I'm trying to get over him. You waving around an US Weekly, trying to foil my plans, isn't helping me."

"Why would you try to be over him if he's coming back for you?" she wondered and I rolled my eyes.

"Says who?" I asked rhetorically, "Clare, you just came in here slapping US Weekly on the table with the news of a split. Before this moment, I never knew about a break up and why? I'll tell you why - because Justin didn't tell me he was breaking up with her. Because Justin didn't show up at my door, begging me to take him back. Because Justin isn't the one who told me he was leaving her for me. I didn't get the information from the man himself, therefore this break up has nothing to do with me or he would have let me know." I took a deep breath and pushed myself up from the table, finished with my lunch break. "I know you meant well, but I honestly feel a little worse. But even if it was him telling me this, I wouldn't know what to do with the information. I don't know if I even care to know what he's doing in his life anymore, especially since I don't fit in it anyway."

"Now who the hell told you didn't fit into his life?" Clare asked, annoyed with my negative attitude.

"I did," I answered before adding, "And so did he when he got on that plane again and flew away. He was saving me a lot of future hurt and he still is by staying away from me." I grabbed my trash from the table and tossed it into a waste basket by the wall three feet away from me. "I don't want to fit in anyway. I'll end up on US Weekly." She rolled her eyes as I walked around her to exit the room. I barely got around her before she grabbed my wrist to stop me.

"Sash, I honestly believe this is about you and I know you think I'm all crazy optimistic, but it's true. He didn't love her and he tried to, but now he has come to terms with what he feels. He might take a while to contact you because he fucked things up, but he'll come around." Her words were logical, but I knew better. My gut told me to keep my hopes down and my determination to forget about him up.

"Okay," I said, pulling my arm free from her grasp, "I'm going up to the nursery. Page me." I left on that note and headed up to see the babies sleep peacefully after the worst day of their lives come to an end. I would wish to be back in the warm cacoon of my mother's belly so I wouldn't have to worry about men and heartbreak and crazy people I called friends. I would be jealous of the carefree thoughts in their tiny heads as I press my hand to my stomach and think of what it would be like to have that ball of new life growing inside me. And then I'll start feeling depressed knowing that I'd be making that baby alone because I was getting old and no closer to finding a good man any time soon. Then I'd shed a couple of tears in the bathroom because I was pathetic and lonely and would never admit to how sad it made me at times when I mulled over the idea of being incapable of loving or being loved.

Then I'd get back to work and start the vicious cycle of emotional torment all over again.

That was usually how my days went by. They got better and some got worse, but it was all good. It would stop some day or I'd at least become numb to it. Whichever came first was good enough for me. I reached the nursery and walked up to the window. Two nurses were tending to the newborns as I watched. I frowned when I thought for a moment about Justin and how our kids would look like... Then I stopped immediately, criticizing myself for being so ridiculously corny and farfetched. The man couldn't even call me let alone have my babies.

I shook my head and pushed away from the glass, feeling agitated suddenly with babies. I walked down the hall toward the bathroom and pushed the door open angrily. I checked every stall to assure I was alone before walking over to the mirrored sink wall. I closed my eyes and breathed deep, making sure I prepared myself to see my reflection. I opened my eyes to the same face I saw everyday, but I mulled over its flaws like it was the first time seeing them. A pore here or a bump there...Bags developing beneath my tired eyes.

I shook my head and 'tsk'ed. Did I always look like this or was this a new look for me? I hoped that it was new because I felt bad for Justin for having to look at me. What the hell was wrong with him? Why did he ever want me at all? My stomach knotted up with agony. I missed him and it hurt and I wanted it to stop so bad that it hurt more. I held my stomach and my eyes watered against my will. I was a mess. I was a big, fucking mess.

I was also vibrating. I rolled my eyes and wiped my tears, grabbing my pager first, but the vibration wasn't coming from there. It was my cell phone, I realized as I reached into my pocket and grabbed the device. I read the caller i.d. and furrowed my brows at the blocked number. I rejected the call and sighed. I didn't feel like talking to anyone anyway, but block numbers were always a no, no. It was daytime and minutes weren't free. I put my phone on the counter and put my hand beneath the sensor of the sink. The water flowed down automatically and I was still amazed at technology. I didn't even have to turn the faucet on anymore.

At any rate, I dried up, tossed my phone back into my pocket and cleaned my face. I looked refreshed, and felt a vibration again. This time it was my pager and Clare was now waiting on me. I took a deep breath and exhaled. I didn't want to go, but I would. Work was a big distraction from my chaotic thoughts.

I took one last look at myself. You'll get over him, I reassured myself. You'll get over him.

-------------------------------------------------------

"You've reached Sasheirah Hanes. I'm sorry I couldn't get to the phone right now, but if you leave your name, number, and a brief message, I'll get back to you as soon as possible. Thank you."

I hung up before the beep and sighed. What the hell was I thinking? I guess I wasn't thinking at all. I was just sitting here on my porch swing, thinking about her and her face and I felt the urge to call. I had nothing to say though, I just wanted to hear her voice. I was so sick with missing her that I almost called back again, just to hear her voicemail message. I suppose that made me a bit crazy, but I didn't really care. But I hesitated to do so, fearful of her actually picking up and me staying quiet on the line as she asked over and over again who was breathing on the line before cursing and hanging up unknowingly on me.

I frowned, disappointed because I was being such a pussy. Why was I so scared? I knew Sash. Se loves me. She said she does and I knew she always would. She wasn't a foolish girl who loved everybody, just the ones she deemed worthy. I guess she knew better now. I was far from worthy and I was proving it everyday that I didn't call despite the black hole in my chest growing larger everyday.

"You gonna stay out here forever?" My mother's southern twang came flowing in the wind toward me as she stepped out onto the porch. I could here her sandals scrape against the wooden planks before she sat down next to me. I just stared out into the street of single homes, illuminated by the sunlight. I squinted a bit from the glare, but relaxed in the warm weather I missed so much over the long winter. It was spring time and new life was all around me, but I never felt less alive.

"Mama," I called and I didn't have to look at her to know she was facing me. "Have you ever been afraid of nothin'?" She made a strange, thoughtful grunting noise and I saw her shrug out of my peripheial vision.

"I'm afraid of a lot of things," she said, "I'm not afraid of 'nothin'' though... There's always something to be scared of."

"I dunno..." I argued with a shrug of my own, "I'm scared out of my mind right now and I don't know why. I can't even leave her a voicemail." I didn't have to elaborate on who the 'her' was. My mother knew everything there was to know about Sash and I. She knew who I was referring to without hesitation.

"Well, baby, there's lots of things to be scared of when you're on the subject of Sash," she told me, "For one, you're in love with her."

"That's not scary," I said, cracking a small smile, "I love that I love her."

"She doesn't know that," she shot back, "Last I heard, she was the one beggin' you not to go." I frowned again.

"I know," I sighed, "I guess I don't want to see that look on her face again. I don't want to hurt her."

"Then stop prolongin' this torture and tell her how you feel," she said, "Justin, if you love some one, you tell 'em. It's really simple. Love is the most beautiful thing in the world. And she loves you too! Jesus pieces, you've already got your foot in the door."

I rolled my eyes at her. She was too optimistic sometimes. I couldn't really argue though. She was right. I knew how Sash felt and that was a good thing. I was assured a yes, but I wasn't assured that I wasn't going to be a douchebag to her anymore. I couldn't assure that I'd stay. I had the tendency to ruin good things, especially women. I blame myself for every girl cheating or leaving me. I wasn't the best boyfriend in the world. I wasn't around much. I was annoyingly famous and so consumed in work at times that I even forgot to call my mama. Why wouldn't I do that to Sash? Why wouldn't I one day break a date or forget to call and say 'I love you'? I guess that's what I was afraid of. Treating her badly at anytime. It would devestate me as much as it would devestate her. I already put her through enough drama. I felt that if I was going to be her boyfriend, I should be there all the time. But I had an album and a tour and movies and a clothing line... She would always be second best, like every woman I've ever loved, to my career and business. She wouldn't be the exception to the rule, no matter how much she mattered to me. I didn't want that for Sash. She deserved a thousand percent of me and I didn't want to waste her time unless I could assure her that much of me.

"What's runnin' through that big ol' head of yours?" my mother teased, tapping my temple for emphasis. I shrugged.

"I don't think I'm the man she's gonna need," I told her, "I don't think I can love her as much as she needs to be loved." There was silence for a while, the trees rustling in the breeze for a moment as the birds chriped. Then a snicker and full blown laughter shout of from my mother's form. I had to look at her this time, not being able to resist the smile that spread across my face instantly. "What in the world are you laughin' at?" I asked as I laughed along. She was tearing up now and fanning herself down into giggles.

"Oh Lord!" she huffed with a grin, "Men are the dumbest creatures on earth." I furrowed my brows, but smiled nonetheless.

"Why's that?" I asked and she wiped her tears.

"Boy, you think women expect some perfect boyfriend? Sash is no fool. She knows what you do and who you are and all the things you're aspiring to be... She knows the Justin in you and she knows the Matthew too. And amazingly enough, she loves you both. She opened up herself to you after a great deal of hurt was thrown on her and she trusted you with her heart after all the bullshit. She just needs you to give her that much back. She just needs you to love her too. She doesn't need you in her face twenty-four-got-damn-seven tellin' her she's the most beautiful girl in the world and showering her with kisses. It would be nice, but she's a realistic woman. She knows you'll kiss her in the mornin' and miss her when you guys are apart and that's what matters. She just needs you to be a part of her life and you can give her that much, right?" I stared at my mama and wondered how I could go a day without her voice. She was the only one crazy enough to stick with me and deal with my drama.

"I could give her that," I said softly before looking down at my lap. I was twiddling my thumbs, hesitating again. "I don't know why I'm so worried."

"Well, you did break her heart... twice," my mother made a face when I looked at her that sympathized with me and Sash. "She's a tough nut to crack, so you may have to weasel your way back into her heart. But she loves you and that doesn't go away overnight, so you have an advantage."

"I feel like I'm pulling her around, but I'm not tryin' to, ya know?"

"I know, baby," my mother cooed, given my short curly hair a russle, "I'm not the one that needs to know that though."

"Should I call?" I asked.

"Would she answer?" she challenged. I shrugged, unsure. I had purposely blocked the number in fear that she would auto-reject me if my name came up on the screen.

"I dunno," I mumbled honestly and my mother shrugged.

"Well, she can ignore a phone call, but she can't ignore that pretty little face of yours," she smirked, "You going to call for plane tickets or should I?"

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Everything that moved on me hurt. My arms, my legs, my ass, my stomach... Ugh, the agony. As if pain wasn't enough, I was slick with sweat and funking up a storm. Why was I doing this to myself every other day? The hospital couldn't pay me to do this a month ago and hear I am, trying to keep up with this cardio crazy son of a bitch.

"Come on ladies!" the class instructor shouted, "Get those knees bent and feet up!" The thumping music matched my manic heart beat as I kicked, punched, and grunted in unison with the crowd of women, sweating and panting along with me.

"Just ten more seconds! Keep it up!" Her words weren't encouraging at all, but she was counting down and my burning legs were going limper and limper. Every kick less energized than the one before. "...8...7...6....5...4...3...2...1...and walk it off!" I dropped my legs down and hunched over to catch my breath. The girl beside me rolled her eyes and we shared a quick smile of understanding as the instructor clapped for us. "Good job!"

There were collective groans as she released us. I grabbed my weights and mat and jump rope and placed them back into the storage room. I was dragging myself around now, done with the gym and dreading the ride home. Hopefully I wouldn't crash from getting a leg crap. My back was aching as well as the rest of me when I bent over a water fountain and quenched my thirst before grabbing my gym bag and heading out to the lot.

The air was warm outside, but the light breeze felt good against my skin. I took my sweet time walking up to the second floor platform and searched for my car in the lit lot. The lexus was still shiny and I frowned remembering that I went to the gym as a distraction to this. To his face in my head and his voice echoing in my ear. To the tingling of my lips when they longed to kiss him. I shook my head, rattling them around a bit and almost nauseating myself before I settled into the car. I locked the doors and started up the vehicle as I buckled up. I paused for a moment to rotate my shoulder (which hurt) and then shifted the gear into drive.

It was was only about ten minutes to get home. It was almost eight and traffic died die drastically. I found parking behind a pick - up truck. It was as shiny as my Lexus and I figured my neighbors decided to get a car rather than pay their light bill. I rolled my eyes and got out with my bag and keys in hand. It took me a little longer than usual to reach my door with my legs still hurting and my back almost breaking, but I was grateful to manage to put the key in the lock and turn it without falling to pieces.

I was midway into my house when I heard the door of a car open and quickened foot steps headed in my direction. I didn't wait around to see what or who it was. I stepped into the house a little faster and hardly closed the door before a hand reached out for me. I screamed when it grazed my skin and twisted the cap of my pepper spray open as it hung off my keys. The sprayed it haphazardly, still screaming as the man yelled and let go of my elbow. The pepper spray irritated my lungs and eyes for a moment before I slammed the door shut and locked it. Bob ran off shrieking. The bastard didn't even wait to see what the noise was about. I could hear the man groaning in pain from outside my door before I crept to the window and saw his hunched over figure on the ground by the steps.

My mind flashed back to the faithful day in December and my heart almost flew out of my chest as I practically yanked the door from the hinges.

"Justin!" I yelled and he groaned as I hurried down the stairs to his side. He struggled to look up at me, but when he did, my guilt overwhelmed me. His eyes were red and a rash looking pinkness was spoting his face. I had gotten him good and would've been proud had he been an attacker and not the man I'm in love with. "Get up, I gotta take you to the hospital." I struggled to get him up before I ran and locked my door again. I left my bag, but took my keys as I guided him to the passenger side of my vehicle. He was groaning and mumbling profanities the whole ride to the ER. Clare was there in two seconds, getting him into see a doctor. I stood outside the door as they aided him.

I hoped to god that pepper spray didn't cause blindness or any other serious problems. I didn't even think this was that good of a spray. It was five dollars in Chinatown, but I guess it was enough now that half his face was as red as cherries. Clare stepped out of the room and looked me over with a sour expression.

"I just came from the gym," I answered her, "Is he okay?"

"Yeah, he's fine," she assured me, "They're flushing out his eyes and skin. He's just going to be red and itchy for a day or two." I frowned.

"I didn't mean to," I childishly mumbled and Clare reached out to pat my arm.

"He knows that," she assured, "But what a way to say hello to someone."

"He grabbed my arm and it's dark out and I didn't expect Justin to be back here," I argued and Clare smiled.

"What did I say a week ago?" she asked smugly. The US Weekly flashed through my mind as I rolled my eyes.

"This is a coincidence."

"I'm sure..." she said sarcastically before the door cracked open behind her and Justin came strolling out, red as ever, but not as crazy looking as before. His eyes were a pink tint and swollen a bit. He looked like shit and his full on pout wasn't helping matters. Dr. Thompson came out behind him and a prescription write up in his hands. He handed it to Justin he grunted a 'thanks'.

"You'll be just fine, Mr. Timberlake," he said cheerfully, "Just be more careful around this one." He chuckled and patted Justin's shoulder.

"I'm going to go back up with Dr. Thompson," Clare said, "Y'all be more careful." She said 'y'all' but she was staring at me with an amused expression before her and Dr. Thompson walked up the hall and disappeared around the corner. I turned back to Justin with a sheepish look as he read his prescription over.

"Anti-biotics and ointments and eye drops..." he shook his head with an emerging smile. "You fucked me up, baby." My heart jumped at the word 'baby', but I remained nonchalant.

"You really shouldn't be sneaking up on people like that," I said, "Especially at night."

"I wasn't sneaking up on you, I was waiting for you to come back from work," he said, "I was in the pick up you parked behind, but I fell asleep and didn't realize it was you until you had gotten up to the door. I guess I was too excited and I just grabbed for you..." Again, another heart jump at the thought of him being excited for me.

"Well... I'm sorry," I said, not having a smarter than to say, "I honestly didn't know it was you and I was just scared because I don't live in the best area, ya know?" Justin snorted a laugh.

"Yeah, I know that pretty well..." he said, implying his whole beating situation. I nodded solemnly in agreement.

"So what are you doing here anyway?" I asked, "I mean... I thought you were in LA." I felt like I was lying somewhat because I knew about the break up and I knew that that's why he was actually here.

"I broke up with Jessica," he told me and even though I knew, it was still somewhat shocking to have him confirm it. "I couldn't do it anymore. It just wasn't going to work." I nodded again.

"I read about that," I confused, "US Weekly or something."

"Figured you hear about it someway or another," he shrugged, "I'm sorry for not calling you first."

"It's none of my business who you break up with," I told him, "That's your life."

"I don't want it to be like that," he told me, "I don't want it to be my life."

"But it is," I said, confused, "That's what you chose...twice." My heart shook a little in my chest. I felt like I had been knocked down two times lower.

"Those were my worst choices," he mumbled as I looked down at the white, clean hospital floors. I saw his footsteps move closer to me. I took a step back and he stopped walking with a heavy sigh.

"I don't know what to say to that," I told him honestly, "But I'm really not looking to go through this back and forth thing again."

"I'm not looking to do that either," he said, "There's nobody else to go back and forth between. There's only you." I snorted an unamused laugh.

"Is that suppose to be a compliment of some sort?" I asked, looking up at him briefly before staring off to my right, "I don't want there to be a no 'back and forth' policy just because you're single right now and nobody else is interested."

"That's not what I meant," he said with a sigh, "Sash, I cannot tell you how much I want to be here now, just so I can be here with. Not because nobody else is 'interested', but because this is where I need to be."

"For now," I mumbled doubtfully, "You staying in a hotel?" Justin looked like I slapped him in the face for a moment as I defensively folded my arms over my chest. He looked away at the floor.

"I didn't make plans to, but it can be arranged." I felt bad, but at the same time angered. Was I really that easy that he didn't bother to look at hotels? My door would just be wide open for him no matter what? It was insulting, to say the least, to be seen as that much of a pushover. It was working down my self-esteem and the way I saw myself was changing. I needed to be the old Sash again. I needed a backbone.

"Than arrange it," I said, fixing my ponytail as a distraction to the knots tying up my stomach. "I'm sorry about your face. Let me know how it goes." I turned and started down the hall toward the exit.

"I can't even get a ride back to my car?" Justin called after me, completely ruining my angry stomping by his reasonable question. I just stopped walking and he caught up shortly, walking silently beside me to the car. It was still warm out and my Lexus looked shinier, like it was showing off for Justin. 'Hey, look at me! Look at how well kept I am!' Of course it's well kept - I would spit shine it clean if I had to. It was the only stable thing Justin ever gave me. It was the only Justin thing that I had, really. Sad as that was.

I suppose I could have the man himself too, I thought as we got into the car and started towards my home. He was here and he told me that this is where he wanted to be. No hotel arrangements were made, so he had every intention of staying here... Possibly in my bed. My body quivered. It felt like forever since I had a taste of him. My lips tingled at the thought and I imagined his mouth crashing on top of mine... I was so glad that the light was red or I would've killed us both with the direction my mind was going. I couldn't stay focused on the road and that would lead to nothing good.

"Are you mad at me?" Justin asked quietly, breaking into my thoughts. I wish he didn't because he sounded so cute and worried that I almost said no.

"Justin, I really just want to lie down," I told him tiredly, yawning just on cue as I pulled into the empty spot behind his shiny black truck. I didn't waste time sitting in the car. I was halfway to my door before he even got out. When I heard my passenger door open and shut, I locked the doors with the key remote without even turning around.

"You didn't answer my question," I heard Justin say. I ignored him. My hand was already holding my door key. "Sash..." I paused my walking. I didn't want to turn around, but he was silent to let me know I had to. I rolled my eyes and faced him.

"Yes?" He looked at the keys in his hands, his truck, and then pointed to his face.

"I'd really hate to be a bother, but I can't see that well right now since I got pepper sprayed and all, so driving, especially at night, isn't really the smart thing to do."

"Where's Mike?" I asked.

"In LA," he answered curtly, "I do travel alone sometimes, you know." I sighed and turned back to the door.

"You're sleeping on the couch," I announced as I heard him jogging up behind me. I put the key in the lock and opened it. Bob meowed and Justin crept around me to swoop him up off my living room floor as I locked the doors again behind me.

"I've missed you too, buddy," Justin cooed and Bob purred as he scratched behind his ear. Was it stupid to find the scene endearing and sickeningly sweet? Bob was such a little traitor today, but I couldn't really blame him. I missed Justin more than he did. I was just a bit more subtle about it.

"How long do you think you'll be staying?" I said, interrupting the moment between them with my hands placed on my hips and my lips pursed.

"The doctor said two to three days," Justin said.

"Okay, two to three days," I said, "But after that, I think it's best if you go." Justin placed Bob on the floor gently and clapped the fur from his hands.

"Sash, I can't help, but feel like you don't want me here," Justin said with a sad smirk on his face, "I don't want you to hate me. I thought we were okay at least... I know I left, but I thought we were okay."

"Well, I thought about it and we're not okay," I told him, "We never were and we won't be, so I just don't want to waste my time on this anymore."

"How can you just say it like that? And what are you talking about? We're good. We're good and we can fix this issue here."

"I don't need to fix anything," I stubbornly shot back, "I'm not the one with issues." He gave me a bored look.

"I think we both have issues, more or less," he said camly, "But I know that my issues were really what made us so awkward, but I'm here, right? I'm trying to be here now."

"Yeah, now," I emphasized, "That's my point, Justin. You're here today and gone tomorrow. I can't live like that."

"I didn't know what I was feeling then, Sash."

"And you know now?" I asked, my doubt and hope battling it out in my mind.

"I couldn't be more sure," Justin told me, "Sash, I love you. I'm in love with you and I know that now. I know that my heart belongs to you." I held my breath to fight the words 'I love you too' from flying out of my mouth. My heart was beating furiously, trying to fly out of my chest and rest in his hands. I wanted to hear those words come out of his mouth, but as I stared at his red and irritated face, I realized that part of me was happy that I did it. At least he felt an ounce of the pain he put me through, intentionally or not.

And because of that, his words lost a bit of their intensity. "I'm going to bed. I have an early shift." I looked away just as his face dropped. "There's some pillows in the side closet and a blanket at the end of the sofa. You already know the routine." Bob meowed in the awkward silence that followed and I scooped him up in my arms as he rubbed himself against my legs. "Goodnight, Justin." I said more to my cat than him as I nuzzled my face into his soft fur and turned toward the stairs. A part of me wanted Justin to call out to me, but I reached my room without a word from him. Bob jumped from my arms once we entered the room and I let go of the breath I had been holding as I shut my bedroom door.

"I love you too, Justin," I said to nobody, "I love you too."

I was a coward and I knew it, but I had to hide in order to stand my ground. I felt like fugitive the way I was ducking and weaving to avoid Justin. After yesterday's very brief discussion on what I was not going to do - take him back, I snuck out to work at eight in the morning, completely ignoring the brown paper bag lunch Justin had somehow packed for me during the night. It was a chicken sandwich, some sliced fruit, and a yogurt, organized with a spoon and napkins. It was adorable and it took everything in me to slam the fridge shut and avoid looking at his sleeping figure on the couch as I crept out of the door. I stayed at work until eight that night, grabbed some Wendy's on Broad and then snuck up to my room so I wouldn't have to go into the kitchen he was in at the time to get a bite to eat. Despite my breeze like speed, he still called out to say hello to me, but I ignored him and went to bed, locking the door behind me.

Today has proven to be much more difficult. I had begged Clare for an early shift, but she told me one o'clock in the afternoon was when she needed me and if I wanted to wandering around the hospital until then and lose a good amount of sleep, it would be my own choice. I wanted to smack her for being so freaking mean. She knew damn well I was trying to sneak out while Justin slept so I wouldn't have to see him or hide out in my room for hours, but I guess that's why she was doing it. Clare was hell bent on me taking him back now that he was here and I felt betrayed. So much for chicks before dicks. Isn't that how the saying goes? Was she not suppose to be on my side? This is why I didn't have friends. They always ended up being shitty.

I pouted as I rolled over in bed and read the clock. It was almost half past ten and my stomach was growling. I had been awake for an hour now and I knew that I would starve if I didn't get up. I should just get some breakfast at Dunkin Donuts, but I honestly didn't have all the extra money to throw away on fast food when I could eat at home for free. I sighed. Now or never was where I stood now. I would have to face him eventually. This was my house and he was the guest. I shouldn't have to hide. Besides, it was day two. If he looked better, he could leave. Be gone and out of my hair for a while so I could regain some of my strength and be able to resist him further.

Yes, I would check his face and tell him to leave if he looked well enough. There was no point in prolonging his stay. He knew I wanted him to go. Well, I needed him to go more like it. It certainly wasn't a matter of wants. If it were what I wanted, I'd be downstairs, eating breakfast with him while I got some morning kisses from his sweet lips...

But this wasn't about what I wanted, I reminded myself as I sat up in my bed and yawned. I ignored the smell of bacon in the air as I stood and walked to the door, swinging it wide open. Now I could smell peppers and onions too. My stomach turned over and growled again, fierce and starving. I placed my hand over my tummy and frowned. The damn thing wouldn't shut up as I washed my face and brushed my teeth. Even as I decended the stairs and walked towards my kitchen it grumbled. I paused at the entry way. Justin's back was to me as he danced to music playing from and Ipod clipped to his waist as he flipped over what I assumed was an omlet. The table was covered in plates of toast, bacon, grits, and there were cups and a bottle of my Tropicana orange juice. It looked good. He did say that breakfast was the only thing he was good at. I smirked a little at the memory.

"Well, hello." My smile fell, little as it was, from my face as his voice resounded in my ears. I forced myself to look up as he removed the earphones from his ears and smiled at me. He looked amazingly better. The swelling was gone and his cheeks were just a bit too rosy, still healing, but not nearly as noticable as before. I guess the prescriptions were working. Great.

"You look a lot better," I said, "I'm glad. You can book your hotel now." Justin's smile was now the one to fall as my words hit him. He wrapped up the cord of his earphones around his Ipod before sticking everything into his sweat pants pockets.

"Sash, can we ease up on the whole 'I hate you' thing for just a little bit?" he asked, "I made you some breakfast and we can just eat in peace and be civilized with one another."

"I am being quite civilized," I argued, "I didn't kick you out. I let you stay here until you felt better and you do feel better, so you can keep your end of the bargain and head on out. That's what civilized people do. They follow through on their agreements."

"Firstly, I never agreed to do anything," he said, "Secondly, I don't feel better at all. I happen to feel like shit."

"Well at least you know how it feels," I mumbled, walking over to grab a cup from the table.

"What the hell is that suppose to mean?" Justin asked as I poured myself some juice. I rolled my eyes.

"You know exactly what it means," I shot back, taking a sip of the cold liquid. My stomach had calmed down a bit.

"Sash, I get it, you're hurt and you're mad and you have every right to be," he said as I continued to drink, "I'm not telling you to forgive me right now, but you gotta at least give me something to go on with. You're completely shutting me out here."

"Justin, don't tell me what to give you, okay?" I snapped, "You don't know how lucky you are that I didn't just leave you crying on the sidewalk the other night. I should've sprayed you some more once I saw it was you."

"You don't even mean that," he said dismissively. I wanted to slap him for being so intune with the way I really felt.

"Why are you so sure about that?" I challenged.

"If you wanted to spray me some more, you would've done it," he said simply, "You don't talk shit or hesistant when you really want something, with the exception of men." I glared at him for the last part and he fought a smile from forming on his stupid face.

"What I really want is to slap you," I retorted. He actually walked closer to me and leaned down.

"Then do it," he challenged, smirking as he gently tapped his cheek to tease me. I stared at the side of his face for a moment, my hand just itching to come in contact with his. I should. He deserved it, but when I even thought hard enough about it, I felt my arms stay glued to my sides, fighting against my primal urge to whoop his ass. I growled in frustration and shoved his head out of my face as I walked around toward the sink.

"You need to be out by the time I get in from work," I announced, tossing the glass of juice in my hands down the drain before quickly rinsing it.

"Oh, so you can't slap me, but you can kick me out?" Justin snorted a laugh, "You're a chicken shit, Sash. You can't even be around when I leave because you don't want to see me go." True, I thought as I dried my hands on a kitchen towel and turned to face him. He looked smug and I hated it. Why was he making fun of my feelings? He knew how hard it was for me to act like I didn't care. He knew I was hurting just from the sight of him, and here he was, pointing it out like it was some sad joke.

"I can't be around when you leave because I have a job that has a real schedule and I need to be there when they tell me to be. I can't run around wherever and whenever I want like some people. So, if you will do the honors of kicking yourself out, I'd appreciate it." I tossed the towel on the counter top. "And clean this mess up before you leave."

"If I leave, I'm not coming back again," he threatened and my chest tightened. "I know I'm a bit wrong here, but I can only apologize so many times. I can only make it up to you if you let me, so I won't waste my time if you're just going to push me away."

"First off, you're not a bit wrong, you're completely wrong. Secondly, how many times did you actually apologize? Once? Maybe twice? You just randomly showed up at my door the moment you and your precious girlfriend broke up. Not only that, but you had the nerve to assume you'd have a warm bed to sleep in since you didn't even bother booking a hotel," I ranted, "Do you know how insulting that is? Did you honestly think I'd go 'I love you too!' and we'd live happily ever after?" For the first time this morning, his smug little face didn't look so smug anymore and I sighed and rolled my eyes after a moment of silence. "That's what I thought." I huffed as I turned to walk out of the kitchen. I could hear Justin following me.

"Sash, wait," he called, like I actually would, "I didn't even look at it like that, I swear. I just... I don't know! I didn't think about it. I just knew that you loved me and I love you, so...yeah. I just kinda went on with the idea of happily ever after. All I can think about is being happy when I think of you, so..." I stopped walking at the foot of the stairs, his words hitting me like bricks as he stopped walking behind me as well. My stomach knotted up as I felt his warm body lining my backside. His arms wrapped around my waist as I stared at my steps and let tears fall from my eyes.

"I hate you..." I whispered as my tears flooded my eyes. I hated being this weak.

"You don't mean that," he said, turning me slowly to face him. "You don't mean that..."

"I wish I did," I said, avoiding his eyes and staring at his lips instead. "I wish I could hate you." My tears wouldn't stop, blurring my vision until I blinked and he wiped them away.

"I know and I'm sorry, Sash," he told me, "I'm sorry a million times over. I wish I could take it all back and do it the right way."

"You can't," I said, looking him in the eyes for the first time. They were so sad that I almost asked if he was okay. He looked like he would cry any moment now.

"I know and I'm sorry," he whispered to me over and over, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry..." He moved his face closer to mine, holding my gaze until he glanced down at my lips. I didn't move when he lined his small pink mouth with mine. He brushed them together lightly and spoke against them. "I love you, baby. All I see is you...All I need is you..." My heart took those words deeply. My whole body felt strangely unfamiliar as his hands rested on the small of my back and the back of my neck. His mouth pressed down on mine in slow and languid kiss. I was still crying silent tears and tasted the salt of them as they mingled with our kisses. I was so sad for giving in and so sad for knowing that my hopes were going so high up, just to be disappointed in the end.

That didn't stop me from kissing him or moaning softly when his tongue slipped into my mouth. I wanted him and my body was sighing in relief as he moved his hands to my sides and ran them up and down, warming me, but making my spine tremble. I gasped lightly as we finally pulled away for air. Justin took my hand and guided me upstairs. He kissed me lightly at the door before leading me into my room completely. The kisses started again as my hands finally moved and rested against the back of his neck and the side of his face. I held his face down to mine as our tongues worked on each other's. I felt his hands grab hold of my breasts through my tank top. I was grateful for not wearing a bra to sleep, feeling his warmth through the thin material.

I pulled away to breathe and Justin moved down to my neck, kissing and licking my skin. I panted as he moved upward and licked the spot behind my ear as his large hands continued to massage my breasts. I could already feel myself pulsating and getting moist. My panties were done for when my hands left his neck and slid down his body slowly towards the elastic ban of his sweats, making him moan unexpectantly as my nails grazed his harden nipples. There was nothing like the sounds he made. I found his mouth again as my hands undid the drawstring of his pants and yanked them halfway down as he stepped out of them.

I reached out for the large bulge in his grey boxer briefs and wrapped my hands around it through the material. He sighed and fumbled in his kisses as I gave him a firm stroke. I smirked a bit, sucking his bottom lip into my mouth as I continued to move along his erection with both my hands. He was panting and enjoying it, but he grabbed my wrists, holding them at my sides. I was confused, but his kisses made me forget. His hands released my wrists and gripped my hips as we fell back against the bed. I couldn't breathe with both his weight and his kisses on me, but a part of me didn't want to anyway, not if it meant him being away from any part of my body.

He was yanking down my shorts and underwear, all the way down to my ankles he went, leaving my body cold for a moment, but lining himself right back on top of me once he tossed my clothes somewhere on the floor. The moment away from his body had caused my mind to race momentarily, suddenly aware of what was going on. This is exactly what I didn't need to be doing. Justin mixed with sex was lethal and I knew I'd die from sadness and disappointment when this was all over. I would feel like a cheap whore who gave it up too fast. I'd feel like a welcome mat he could walk all over. He's barely been here two days and I was on my back again, grinding against his leg like a poodle in heat.

Before I could bother complaining, his mouth was on top of mind. He used one arm to support himself, the other he took to his mouth, breaking our kiss to suck on his fingers for a moment before bringing them down to my lower lips. He held my gaze before I had to close my eyes and moan at the slow circles he was making against my clit. He pressed a little harder as I moved my hips against his hand. His kissed me and I moaned into his mouth as his two of his fingers slipped inside of me, long and deep. I felt them curve upward and I cried out as he rammed them into me. I could hear how wet I was as he moved quickly, at just the right speed. He had successfully found my g-spot and I was gripping the shit out of my sheets as I felt the pit of my stomach tighten.

"Damn, baby..." Justin marveled as I moaned and grabbed his hair in my fit of an orgasm. I kissed him before he started downward kisses along my body. My neck, collarbones, breast and stomach...I was still breathing irregularly, anticipating what he was going to do. My thighs were the next parts to fall victim to his sweet kisses. He brushed his lips against the skin and my whole body shivered. He moved a little closer in and it took everything in me not to grab his head and push him forward. He must've sensed my impatience because he reached out with his skilled fingers and spread me open. With a small glance in my direction, he ran his tongue against my clit. I jerked away from his mouth and moaned again, my skin still sensitive from my previous orgasm. He held my waist to keep me from thrashing around on the bed and sucked my clit into his mouth. I cursed and gripped his shoulders. He continued to lap me up and I came again before he he finally endednhis torture and kissed me. Long, passionate, and sweet... His kisses were the essence of the man himself. No wonder I couldn't get tired of them. I could never get tired of Justin, no matter how hard I tried.

Justin pulled away from me to catch his breath, I assumed because my lungs were empty as well. Then I saw the look on his face and the hazy daze of his eyes and knew what was going to happen. I couldn't even stop it, not that I would've tried.

He licked his lips and stared down at me, brushing his hand lightly along my cheek. My heart was pounding because it was anxious. Not for the sex, but for his words. "Sash..." He called me like I wasn't the only one in the room, right underneath him.

"What?" I asked softly like we really had to whisper. He searched my eyes for a moment.

"I don't want you regretting this," he told me, "I don't want this to be a mistake to you." I furrowed my brows. That's not what I was expecting to hear.

"What are you talking about?" I asked, "It's not."

"So you want this?" he asked dumbly and I rolled my eyes.

"Yes, I want this," I said, annoyed, "I'm half naked underneath you."

"I don't mean the sex," he sighed, "I meant you and I. Do you want this? Us. Together." Yes, I wanted us together... Physically. His penis and my vagina would go hand-in-hand. I knew that he would be pissed if I said that outloud, but I didn't want to answer his stupid question. He was the only man on the planet who would stop to ask about commitments when there was a half naked and soaking wet female grinding up underneath him.

"Justin..." I looked away from him, dropping my hands from where they were draped over his shoulder and waist.

"Is that a no?" he asked, sounding hurt already before I confirmed or denied anything.

"That's a..." I paused to think. "That's an 'I don't know'."

"Well, I don't think that's fair to either of us," he said, rolling off from on top of me. Disappointed was an understatement for how I felt.

"But I want to," I said, sitting up, "I thought you wanted me happy."

"I'm not a hooker, Sash," he said, glaring in my direction, "There's no wam, bam, thank ya ma'am thing going on here. I'm not fucking you and leaving or whatever it is you expect me to do."

"I didn't even say all that," I grumbled, pulling my sheet over my lower half. "It doesn't matter now, I lost it anyway." Justin rolled his eyes this time, probably thinking I didn't see it. I didn't say anything though and neither did he. We sat in silence for a minute or two before I realized the time and decided I needed to shower before work. Before I even got off the bed though, Justin sat up and scooted over to me. I pretended not to care when he started to kiss along my neck and shoulder and ear.

"Don't be mad..." he mumbled through his short kisses and I nudged him away from me.

"Don't start what you won't finish," I shot back and he sighed beside me before I stood from the bed, wrapping the sheet around my body.

"Sash..." he whined, getting up as well and walking around the bed towards me. I glared at him, but he kept on coming. I slapped his hands away as he went to hug me.

"Justin, please," I complained, slapping away more of his lame attempts to hold me. He finally dropped his hands to his sides.

"Fine, I won't hug you, even though you want me to," I rolled my eyes, "But I will tell you that I did the right thing by stopping what was happening and when you go through work and think about it at the end of the day, you'll see what I did and appreciate it."

"Or I'll come to the conclusion that you're gay," I chided, pushing him out of my way so that I could get to my door.

"I got you off before either of us were completely naked. I think that speaks for itself." Touche.

"Whatever," I called out childishly, slamming my door shut behind me as I made my way towards the bathroom. He could be so right sometimes that it irritated my soul. I shook my to myself, wondering how I got in situation in the first place. I'm never, ever helping strange white boys I find in the middle of street. Ever. I don't care how beat up they are. All they did was get you into trouble in the end.

I locked the bathroom and stripped my blanket off of me along with my tank, tossing my clean clothes on top of my closed toilet seat cover. I set the temperature of my shower water before running it and stepping inside. I let the warm liquid wash over me for a moment before finding the Irish Springs soap and lather up my body. My hands headed south and I flinched and hissed a little as I washed my tender flesh. I should've just lied and told him yes, I thought as my unsatisfied body yearned for more than just the taste he gave me.

"I just don't know what she wants from me..." I whined into my cell phone as I muted Maury on the television. She didn't even get a chance to say hello before I was whining to her.

"Oh, well it's so nice of you to call," my mother joked.

"I'm sorry, but it's been two and a half days of angry woman and that left me no free time to call you." I ran my hands down my face and slouched against the couch I was starting to hate because I knew that I could've been up in her soft bed instead if she'd just stop with all her bullshit. "I'm seriously losing my mind here."

"Well, darlin', I don't know what to tell ya," my mother spoke honestly, "You know Sash better than I do, so if you're confused, I don't know how much help I can be."

"You can tell me what's going on in her head," I said, "Don't women have that...connection thing? You understand each other, right?" My mother sighed dramatically.

"Alright, just tell me what she's doing and I'll try to translate it for you."

I shrugged, even though she couldn't see me and waved my hands around at a lost for words. "Well...we almost had sex this morning." My mother grunted like she always did when I spoke about sex to her. She wasn't quite comfortable with it yet, despite how close we were. "I stopped it though because we were arguing before and then I just kissed her and we started fooling around, but nothing really got solved, ya know? She even told me she hated me."

"During the almost-sex?" my mother asked.

"No, before when I was about to kiss her, but she sorta took it back and said she wished she could hate me."

"Okay..." my mother trailed off. I waited and tapped my foot. "Well, she's obviously loves you still."

"That's good," I chimed in.

"Yeah, that's good," my mother said, but she didn't sound as enthusiastic. "But I think she doesn't really want to anymore." My heart sank automatically.

"Well...that's bad." I frowned as I stated the obvious.

"Well... She does still love you, but she's trying to push you away," my mother explained, "She thinks you're gonna hurt her or something. She's way too defensive, but she almost had sex with you and she wouldn't have even let you kiss her if she didn't love you."

"What am I suppose to do?" I asked, genuinely lost, "I have apologized over and over. I feel like a jackass for the whole Jessica thing and I've told her that. Ma, I told her that I loved her, even after I got pepper sprayed-"

"Pepper sprayed?!" my mother exclaimed, "She maced you?!"

"Not on purpose," I explained, "At least that's what she said."

"Oh Lord..." she groaned, "I think you need to be more afraid of her hurting you."

"I'm fine," I said dismissively, "Besides, if she didn't mace me, I wouldn't have had permission to stay here."

"Well, it's not exactly doing much good anyway." I frowned at her pessimism.

"I just gotta get her walls down again," I said, "I don't know how though."

"Maybe you should give her a little space," my mother suggested and I recoiled from the idea immediately.

"I gave her space and now we're fucked," I said, "I think I need to stick around. Let her know I'm not going anywhere."

"You don't want to overwhelm her with your presence though. She may feel smothered," she warned me, "Then she'll think you're some type of stalker." I rolled my eyes.

"Sash wouldn't think I was a stalker if I hung around," I argued.

"Sash also wouldn't pepper spray you, right?" she retorted, "But are you really okay? Should I come over there?" I laughed.

"What are you going to do? Give Sash a whoopin'?"

"If that's what it takes for you to regain your vision, than yes," she said seriously and I laughed again.

"Ma, I'm fine. Vision and all," I reassured, "There's no need for violence." She grunted and mumbled something.

"Well, I hope she's worth the torture, Justin," my mother said, "You might just have to lose your mind taming this woman."

"She's worth insanity, trust me," I told her, "She's the most amazing person you could ever meet...Behind all the anger and defensiveness, she's a really kind woman."

"I suppose..." mother sighed, "But sweetheart, Mama's gonna have to call you later. Your father's picking up the boys with Sheryl and you know how that goes..." I laughed, knowing that my mother and real father had yet to settle their differences. It was a much more subtle version after so many years, but the war of words were just as vicious. My mama always won though.

"Okay, Mama," I said, "Try not to kill each other."

"I make no promises," she joked, "I love you, baby. Call me later."

"Yes, ma'am," I sighed, "I love ya too, Mama." We said our goodbyes and hung up as I tossed my cell phone next to me on the sofa. Bob meowed from my feet and I shifted my eyes towards him. He tilted his curious head to the side and stared at me awkwardly.

"What?" I asked and he meowed again. I wish I spoke cat. Bob knew things about Sash I never got to know or see. He'd let me in on all the secrets, unlike a certain Miss. Hanes. I make the woman cum twice and she still manages to act like she doesn't want me. I rolled my eyes to the heavens, asking God if this was some cruel joke. What the hell was I suppose to do now? I had no game plan, which was becoming the norm with all things concerning Sash. I never had a plan for that woman because she was forever trying to screw us over.

I'm giving the woman my heart, the one thing she always wanted, and now it's not good enough. Did she need my fucking kidneys too? I chewed on my thumb nail and came to the conclusion that I'd give them to her if she asked. I'd give her anything if she asked, but she wasn't getting that small fact through her beautiful, stubborn head. Ugh... Frustration. I needed to take a deep breath. Sitting in this house of hers while she worked wasn't helping. I'd leave if I knew I'd get back in again. I didn't have a key and I knew that if I left and tried to come back, she'd never let me in, just to prove a point. She was annoying because of that, but a part of me understood why the great walls of China rebuilt themselves once I returned here. Why wouldn't she develop a fear of abandonment when I left her twice already?

Before I could kick myself in the balls for being an idiot, the jingling of keys rang in my ears, making my heart jump. I lept from the couch and practically ran to the door, pulling it open only to be met by her surprised eyes. I smiled brightly, unable to do anything else at the sight of her, and was immediately disappointed by the angry scowl that took over her face.

"Why are you still here?" she snapped at me, pushing me out of the way to get into the house. Despite the fact that I knew she was fronting, I couldn't help but feel a sting every time she said stuff like that. It was hurtful and I rolled my eyes and sucked it up before I locked the door behind her.

"I'm not leaving," I told her, turning around to watch her scrambling around her living room in search of something. "Not until I know you're going to let me come back."

"Well, I guess you'll have to start paying rent," she mumbled before sucking her teeth in disappointment. "Damn it!"

"What are you looking for?" I asked, glancing around the room in search of something meaningful to her.

"None of your damn business," she answered, dropping her purse on the couch hastily and heading towards the kitchen. I trailed behind her, watching her ass move in her mint green scrubs before she turned and glared at me.

"What?" I said, sounding guilty as I snapped my head up to face her. She narrowed her eyes further in suspicion before giving me the once over. "What?" I asked again and she huffed and walked around me towards the livng room again.

"You're really immature, Justin," she criticized and confused me all at once. "Did you honestly have to disrupt my day like this just to get me to come home?" I furrowed my brows.

"What are you talking about?" I asked, "Didn't do anything." She groaned and whirled around to face me.

"Just give it back." She stretched her hand out to me and wiggled her fingers impatiently. "Now."

"I can't give you what I don't have," I said, "I don't even know what you're talking about." She looked at me like she wanted to rip my face off and chances are she did, but I didn't know what she was talking and I wasn't hiding anything anyway.

"Fine, you wanna play dumb?" she said, walking up to me and sticking her hand into my pocket. It took me a minute to figure out what she was doing and it also took me a minute to not get excited by the feel of her hands. It wasn't until she was victoriously waving around my wallet that reality hit me.

"What the hell are you doing?" I asked as she ignored me and walked over to her purse, jamming my wallet inside of it. I hurried up behind her and reached for the bag, but she snatched it up and curled into a protective ball around it.

"I'm keeping this until you cough up my cell phone," she told me, trying to squirm out of my arms when I enveloped her in them and reached for the bag in her hands. I took the opportunity to hold her tighter as her ass grinded against my crotch.

"I don't have your phone," I told her softly, and she elbowed my chest to get me off of her. It hurt, but I didn't budge. She'd have to do better than that.

"You're a damn liar," she argued, "I had it before you hugged me against my will this morning and now I don't."

"I wouldn't steal your phone," I said, taking notice of how still she was standing in my arms. Her body was stiff as hell, but at least I wasn't being elbowed. Sash turned her head around slowly and pulled her face back from mine when she realized how close I was to her. I was still close enough to kiss her and I thought about it long and hard, but I knew that it would just lead to something that I'd probably finish this time and what kind of man would I be if I took back what I had just said this morning?

"Well, Mr. Timberlake," Sash said, breaking into my thoughts as I watched her glossed lips move, "If you don't have it, where is it?" I shrugged, her perfume and warmth relaxing me.

"I don't know, but I can help you find it," I said, realizing that she had yet to fight me for holding her for so long. She liked it. I knew that she did. This morning's tease proved that she wasn't repulsed by me physically, at the very least. It was a reassuring start to something positive between us.

"I don't need you to help me find anything," she said, glancing at my mouth for a moment and making me smirk. Her eyes shot up to mine immediately after and she elbowed me twice in the chest, catching me off guard. I let her go to rub my injured chest cavity and she dusted herself off like I had lice as she scowled at me. "And keep your hands to yourself."

"Yeah, well you weren't complaining earlier," I shot back, feeling immature, but smug as I frowned, "And thanks for the bruise."

She rolled her eyes. "I'm going back to work," she announced, "Please be out of my house when I get here later." She sighed to herself, purse (and my wallet) securely tucked beneath her arm, and headed for the door.

"I will be right here when you get back," I told her and I meant it. She wasn't pushing me away that easily and she should know that by now. I was a persistant asshole when I wanted something bad enough and Sash was at the top of my list. Speaking of Sash, she didn't respond to me outloud. She did mumble something to herself before opening the door and slamming it shut behind her. I frowned when her car sped off and I realized that it was probably a good thing that I didn't hear what she mumbled.

----------------------------------------------------------

He was an asshole. He knew. He knew. The little fucker has stooped down lower than ever in an attempt to irk my soul. My phone! My got damn phone. How was I suppose to live? What if something happened and I needed to call 911 or my mother to say my last dying words to? Did he think about these things? Of course not because Justin Randall Timberlake was an immature prick.

I tried to tell myself this over and over again. I was trying to reason myself out of loving him. Him being an immature, phone stealing prick was enough reason to stop loving him, right? Yes, I answered myself in my mind. Yes it is.

But then I think about his arms being wrapped around me, all warm and muscular, and I tremble as a chill runs down my spine. God, his chest felt nice against my back, especially when he breathed and I felt the movement of his lungs. Oh... and when he spoke... That boy was forever sounding sexy. I felt the stubble of his cheeks a couple of times. Not to mention his soapy-piney scent. And his hands... They felt good too all tangled on my waist and arms awkwardly... I didn't even want to think about my ass being pushed against his crotch a little when I started fighting him off of me. That's why I stopped moving, he might've felt it too.

"Stop it, Sash, stop it..." I mumbled to myself, trying to shake the thoughts from my mind. I needed to get over him. I needed to get one Justin free moment.

"Honey, you're talking to yourself now?" Clare's voice asked, breaking into my thoughts, "I think I need to move in now." I stepped away from the nursery window and sighed.

"I think we need to just switch houses for a while, until Justin leaves," I said, "He stole my phone you know." Clare gave me a look and reached into her pocket, pulling out a cellular device that looked all too familiar.

"You left it in the break room," she informed me, tossing it in my direction. My guilty stomach knotted up and I felt embarassed.

"Shit," I mumbled.

"You didn't accuse him of anything, did you?" She asked, but she already knew the answer. I just looked to the side and shrugged.

"Maybe..." She 'tsk'ed and I pouted. "I just elbowed him a little."

"You better apologize," she smirked, "Or at least show him how sorry you are." She laughed, but I didn't.

"As if he'd let me," I muttered, "Apparently all sexual relations with Justin have ceased until I agree to be in a relationship with him."

"Impressive," Clare said, nodding in approval. I narrowed my eyes at her.

"More like bullshit," I retorted, "Not that it matters. I don't want to have a sex-based relationship with him anyway. I don't want him around at all."

"Somehow I doubt that," Clare told me, turning towards the newborns on display with a small smile, "They are adorable..." I nodded in agreement, glancing over at the newborns in envy of their untarnished worlds. Hearts all new and unbroken. How nice it was. Too bad that they would all be broken one day, some how and some way.

"I better get back to work," I said, reading the time on my cell phone's screen, "It's time for Mr. Lanard's bath." I sighed and turned to trail down the hall.

"Hey, Sash," Clare called behind me and I turned back to her for a moment, "What are you doing tomorrow?"

"I've got an early shift, so nothing after that," I said, "Why, what's up?"

"We're going out," she smiled, "Get an outfit."

"Club or dinner?" I inquired, feeling a bit happier by the second. I haven't done anything fun in forever.

"Club," she said, "Tight jeans, tight top."

"Yes!" I cheered and she laughed as I turned back down the hall. I definitely needed a girls' night out. Justin-free. I already had my outfit planned before I made it to Mr. Lanard's room. I bathed him and got Ms. Patty's vitals recorded. After I headed down to the Levy building and gave the patients a check up and meds, my day was done. I headed to the mall downtown on the subway. The Gallery wasn't as packed in the middle of the week, so I shopped happily for three hours before heading back to the hospital to my car. I drove home with the radio playing my Tupac album. I bobbed my head and rapped along to his lyrics. I was feeling so relaxed that I almost forgot about him. Almost.

When I parked in front of my house, behind his shiny ass truck, I took a deep breath and grabbed my bags out of the backseat. I'd bypass him quickly and call it a night. I just had to move swiftly. He'd never see me and even if he did, I'd ignore him. I nodded and accepted my plan of ducking and weaving. My keys jingled and I cursed a bit. He always heard them, waiting at the door for me like a lost puppy. It was completely endearing, but irritating. How would I avoid him if he was standing right in front of me?

Luckily though, he was not at the door when I opened it. In fact, he was nowhere at all. I stepped inside the house and locked the door behind me, holding my bags in one hand and my pepper spray in the other. The house was completely dark until I found the lamp by the couch and clicked it open. Everything was cleaned up more than usual, especially the couch. It looked as if nothing was touched, ever. I went through the dining room and kitchen and glanced down in the basement. Nothing.

"Justin!" I called, "Matthew!" I sounded crazy, but nothing again. I frowned a little as my heart sank. He was actually gone. Hmm... This was a strange, upsetting feeling. I knew wouldn't be happy to see him go, but I didn't think I'd feel this bad. I kicked off my Nikes and removed my jacket, leaving them anywhere they landed. I wasn't in the mood to be neat now. I turned off the lamp and felt myself tearing up as I walked up my stairs. A small sob escaped my throat and I wiped my face off with my free hand. I reached my bedroom and used the moonlight to find the light switch.

And then I screamed.

My bags fell from my hands and grabbed my pepper spray as the body on the bed leapt up from my hollering, looking confused and alarmed, just like me.

"Justin, what the fuck are you doing here!?" I yelled, "You gave me a heart attack!" He sighed and wiped the sleep from his face.

"I'm sorry," he grumbled tiredly, "The couch was hurting my back, so I just came up here."

"I don't want you in my room," I said, calming down, "I thought you left."

"Is that why you're crying?" he asked and I wiped my face again to get rid of the unfelt tears.

"I had something in my eyes," I lied... terribly. He didn't call me on it.

"Well, just so you know, I can't get very far without my wallet," he said sarcastically and I rolled my eyes.

"Here," I said, reaching for my purse now lying on the floor. I pulled his wallet out and tossed it at him.

"Thanks," he said, "I'm guessing you found your phone."

"I guess I did..." I mumbled shamefully. My gut tightened with a held back apology. Justin smiled a little at my uncomfortable stance.

"It's okay," he cooed, "I forgive you."

"Shut up," I griped as his eyes drifted to my fallen bags on the floor.

"What did you buy?" he asked curiously as I bent over to retrieve my bags.

"Nothing," I replied.

"I thought you hated shopping," he continued.

"I do," I said, "But I needed a few things."

"Why?" he asked. I gave him an annoyed glance.

"What's with the interrogation?" I asked back and he shrugged, scratching his stomach while stretching.

"I was just curious," he told me, dropping his arms back to his side before smirking at me, "You going anywhere?"

"Yes," I said, "Out." I turned away from him and towards my bureau. I began to unpack my bags. Three pairs of jeans, two tops, a pair of knee boots, and jewelry. I even made a pit stop at Victoria's Secret for some lotion and perfume. Those semi-annual sales always got me.

"Can I go?" he asked and I groaned as I shot him an annoyed glance in the reflection of my bureau's mirror.

"No, you cannot," I sighed, "Stop with the questions."

"Is it a date?" he asked again and I rolled my eyes.

"Yes, I'm having a really hot, sex-filled date with Fabio tomorrow night."

"Ew, that guy's like a hundred and ten," he said with a sour face. I shook my head and took in his grey sweats and white t-shirt. His hair was ruffled and his eyes were tired.

"Justin, it's really none of your business if I have a date or not anyway," I said, "It's none of your business that I'm going out period, so just zip your lips and get out of my room."

"I beg to differ," he argued back as I balled up the small bags and stuck them inside of the oversize bag my boots were in. "Sash, I'm serious. It's my business too." I rolled my eyes for the millionth time as I tucked my clothes into my drawers in neat piles and grabbed my shoe box.

"Why? You aren't anything to me," I said quietly because it hurt to say it to him. He was quiet as I walked over to my small side closet and tucked my new boots into the back corner with the rest of my shoes. I guess I had hurt his feelings too and I pushed my guilt down as I reasoned with myself that it was a good thing. A hurt Justin would leave me alone.

"I know you don't really mean the shit you say, but it does hurt to hear it," he said, confirming my suspicions, "I really don't understand why you're being so evil towards me. I'm trying here...I know that things were confusing, but I'm making it as clear as possible now. This is where I want to be. Not just in this moment, but for as long as you want me here."

"Bullshit," I discredited, "'Cause I don't want you here and yet, here you are." I placed my hands on my hips as I faced him, straightening out my stance as I looked him over. He was so damn cute and he wasn't even trying. I wish his physique wasn't so on point. It was shallow to say, but maybe this would be easier if he didn't look so good and tempting. The boy was just a living, breathing pile of sin.

"No, you're bullshit because you do want me here," he said, taking a few steps towards me. I backed up and put my arm out in front of me to block him off.

"Do not touch me," I warned, feeling my heart jump a little at the thought.

"Why not?" he asked, stepping forward again, "That's what I'm good enough for, right? I can't love you, but I'm allowed to fuck you." He stepped up again and I felt my whole body turning to mush as he grabbed my arms and yanked me into his chest. Our little teasing session clouded my mind and I didn't know what to say or do.

"Justin...." I said, unable to look away from the blazing fire in his eyes. He was so angry and it scared me and turned me on all at once. "You're hurting my arms." It was a lie, his hold was firm, but harmless, but I felt myself panicking a little. He just continued to stare me down. I felt small...smaller. He was always towering above me, but I was never intimidated before now.

He didn't loosen his grip at all. It actually felt tighter for a while and then there was an exhale of the breath he was holding. "What the hell do you want from me?" he whispered, anger flushing from his face and replaced with genuine sadness. I liked the anger better. Sad Justin had doe eyes and soft, pink cheeks. Sad Justin searched your eyes for answers and spoke so soft and broken that it made you want to cry. Sad Justin looked like he was damn near tears himself. I bit my bottom lip and turned my eyes from his to look at his large, white hand wrapped around one of my brown wrists, swallowing it whole.

"I dunno..." I mumbled as I shrugged. He sighed and let me go, but he stood right up in front of me. I felt his hands cup my face and force me to look up at him.

"Sash, you do know and I need you to tell me," he said, "I can’t give you what you need unless I know what it is. I’m clueless here." He searched my eyes a moment longer. I tried to show nothing in them, but it was hard to deny my emotions an escape. They had been packed away from him so long that they were begging to get out.

"I really don’t know," I said softly, "I want you…I want to be with you…but…" I trailed off, feeling foolish. This was sounding more and more like some melodramatic romance film by the moment. I could feel myself recoiling.

"If you wanna be with me, then by all means – be with me. I’m right here. I’m waiting on you to give me the go ahead so that I can be with you."

"It’s not that simple, Justin," I tried to explain, "I’m Sash, ya know? I’m a nurse…in Philly. North Philly. Temple graduate."

"I’m aware of all that," he said, not understanding at all. "Sash, what does nursing have to do with anything?"

"Everything," I said simply, "Justin, you’re a superstar…musician…actor…producer…or whatever else that you do. You even design clothes! You’re a millionaire, sleeping on my couch every night like it’s no big deal. Don’t get me wrong, I like that you don’t really hate sleeping on the couch and you’re not some pompous snob, but… you don’t belong here. You don’t belong in this house, on my couch or in my bed. You don’t even belong in this area. Who the hell thinks of North Philly when they think of Justin Timberlake?" He shrugged after my ramblings, frustrating me further.

"That’s a good thing to me to me," he said, "No paps."

"Yes, no paps," I repeated, "But do you see my point here? Do you see where the problem is?" He shrugged again and pursed his lips in thought.

"I guess I can understand that we’re two different people…. I can understand that you might see it as challenging, but Sash, I can assure you –"

"Justin, you can’t assure me anything, so don’t even try to," I interrupted, "Life doesn’t give a shit about your assurances or your intentions or your plans. Shit happens – it always does. That’s how it goes, but I don’t think I could handle that with you."

"All couples go through shit, Sash," Justin told me, "I know that shit happens. Trust me, that's not something that I'm unfamiliar with. But what I'm saying to you is that you can't push me away to avoid shit from happening. It doesn't make any sense."

"What doesn't make sense is jumping into something that you know won't work," I argued back, "Yeah, all couples go through shit, but not very many couples have to go through the shit we will. Distance, for instance. You're all the way in Los Angeles. That's across the fucking country, Justin. When am I going to see you?"

He rolled his eyes and threw up his hands in frustration. "Sash, you're seeing me now, aren't you? I flew out here to see you. That's how we'll see each other."

"Well now is different, Justin," I retorted, "You have more free time right now."

"I'm still working," he said, "I work all the time. I did three over the phone interviews in the last two days. I wrote a couple of songs. I even set up some studio times and television interviews. I'm always on the clock, no matter where I am. It's not a problem if I want to work from here or LA. I find my ways. Besides, you can come out and see me if I ever get stuck out somewhere. Like if I'm on tour in Europe or something that extreme."

"I can't fly out everywhere at any given time," I said, "I have a job here. I have friends and family... I can't up and go wherever and whenever I want."

"You can request off," he told me, "Clare can work something out for you."

"Justin, I cannot request all these days off. I have bills that need to be paid." He gave me a look and I could already see what was going to come out of his mouth.

"Sash, you know I have your back on things like that," he said before quickly adding, "If you ever really, really, really need it because I know that you can take care of yourself."

"Well, I won't be able to take care of much if I become your groupie girlfriend and follow you around the world."

"Well you're going to have to fly out sometimes, Sash," he said, "I can't always be the one to do it. Besides, you have to meet my family and friends. It's easier to bring you to them than them to you."

"Not for days at a time, all the time," I said.

"You don't have to stay for days, even though that would be nice," Justin smirked a little, "I can arrange for private jets and whatnot. We can see each other for a couple of hours and I'll have you home before your bedtime." I rolled my eyes and he chuckled a bit. "Sash, whatever you can throw at me, I'll have a solution or explanation, so stop fighting me on this."

"I have another thing to discuss," I said softly and he tilted his head to the side to read my face a little. Then he frowned and I thought that maybe he got it.

"What is it?" he asked timidly and I shrugged and looked down at my feet.

"Well... the distance thing will be kind of hard on the both of us," I said, "I've never been in any form of a long distance relationship. I've never had to deal with space and when I did have to deal with it on a lower scale with Angel and being busy all of the time.... Well, we both know what happened." Justin sighed.

"Sash, I'm not going to cheat on you," he said, "I've been on the shit end of that stick and it's not fun. I would never do that to you." My heart nodded and agreed. He would never do that...but isn't that what they all say? I had a hard time believing that Justin could stay faithful for too long. Not because of Jessica or anything, but because he was a man and women threw themselves at him on a daily basis. Hell, I want to throw myself at him on a daily basis. And there's only so many times that he can say 'no' before he finally says 'yes'.

"Justin, don't lie to me when you answer this," I demanded and he nodded, "You've never slept with women while you were on tour or something?"

"Well, I have. I've slept with women when I wasn't on tour too, but not when I was in a relationship."

"You've never cheated?" He shook his head. "No kiss, no head, no sex....Nothing?"

"Nope," he said, "I've only cheated once and that was emotionally and that was with you and Jessica." I frowned automatically and he smoothed his hands over my frump face. "I would never cheat, it's not in me, even when it's really tempting," he assured, "For example, when you and I were on the stairs together the last time and you asked me to be with you."

My stomached knotted up at the memory and I felt stupid and embarassed again. "I know that I was deamed an asshole for saying no, but Sash, I wanted you. I still want you and you're just standing here. You have no idea how hard it was to say no to you, but I still did because I knew it was wrong. I had already crossed the line by falling for you in the first place. I didn't want to be that type of person. What I did with you as Matthew was something that I couldn't have helped. Honestly, if my head wasn't completely empty when I met you, I would've went running for the hills because I was already too attracted to you from the moment I laid eyes on you."

"But you'll be tempted..." I said, "What if you meet a girl and you fall for her too?"

"Doubt that I'll fall for anybody because I can't stop thinking of you, whether you're here with me or across the globe. You're always on my mind. However, I can't say that I won't have a lot of attractive women around me. But you drool over Shia Labeouf, but I know that you wouldn't do anything, even if he offered." I raised a brow comically and he glared at me.

"I'm kidding..." I grumbled and then I exhaled deeply. "I'm hesitanting here... You make it sound like I'm being irrational."

"You're not being irrational, it's okay to be worried," he said, "But Sash, don't through us away because it seems too hard. You have to give us a chance, ya know? If we work out, we'll be happy for the rest of our lives... If we don't, then at least we know we tried."

"And failed," I added bitterly, "I don't want to risk losing you like that. People hate each other after break ups."

"That's not true," he argued. "People have become great friends after break ups."

"Name one," I shot back and he paused in thought.

"Well, I can't name one off the top of my head, but I know they're out there."

I rolled my eyes. "If we break up, I'll never be able to look at you again. That's just how I am."

"Then lets not ever break up," he said simply, "Problem solved." I shook my head at his ridiculously simple philosophy.

"You see the world in a very weird light," I said, "You're too optimisitic."

"Thank you."

"That wasn't a compliment," I informed him and he shrugged.

"Well, you're too pessimistic, so we balance each other out," he said, "Even more reason to be together."

"Why are you so hell bent on being with me?" I asked, "I'm trying to get you to go away and you stay around."

"Because I know you want to be with me too, despite your lame attempts to push me out of your life," he said.

"You could have a lot of women and you want a North Philly nurse who's completely pessimistic and mean towards you on a daily basis." I was confused.

"Why would I want a lot of women when I could have the one woman that I need?" he asked, "Put it like this: I'm hungry and I know that I want a Big Mac with extra pickles -"

"What?" I interrupted with a giggle, "What are you talking about?"

"Just listen," he whined, "Okay, so I'm drooling just thinking about this Big Mac, but I go to Wendy's and get some nuggets instead. Yeah, the nuggets are good, but it's not what I wanted. My stomach may be fool, but I'm still hungry and searching for that Big Mac. I'm never going to be satisfied until I have it."

"So... I'm the Big Mac?" I asked, piecing it together.

"Yes," he smiled proudly.

"And the other women... they're the Wendy's nuggets - good, but not satisfying."

"Exactly," he beamed, "So you get what I'm saying?"

"I guess," I shrugged, "It's a weird analogy."

"Well, that's how I feel," he smirked, "You're my Big Mac, Bob's the extra pickles."

"Oh, so you need my cat too?" I laughed and he nodded.

"I love Bob," he said, "I have a million dogs, but Bob is the man." I shook my head and laughed again. The man was insane and in love with my cat and I. I felt myself wanting to give in. To just say yes and be with him. I wanted to kiss him. I wanted to hug him. I wanted him to call and whisper that he missed me late at night when he was away on tour and I couldn't go out to see him. It would be cool to see the world with him. I wasn't much for the celebrity that he was... It was still weird to think that the scruffy mess of a man in front of me was a household name that even my mother would recognize.

I gave him a once over check out and he waited patiently for me to speak. Too bad I didn't know what to say. I didn't know if saying yes would be something I regretted in the morning. My emotions were so jumbled these days that I didn't know how to feel anymore. As much as I wanted to be carefree and just give it a go, my heart was my most prized possession and the thought of Justin breaking it... again...was a lot to ignore.

"I don't know how I feel about this yet," I said after a moment, "I want to say yes, but I also want to secure myself with my decision first. I don't want to change my mind and upset you or anything." He nodded.

"Not what I wanted to hear exactly, but I thank you for being honest."

"I just don't want to wake up tomorrow and take it back," I said, "I have to mull it over."

"Okay, that's fine," he said, "How about I go away for a few days... Maybe three or five days. I can get some work done back in LA and then I'll call you or I can get a flight down here again and we can talk this out. That way, you can be by yourself and think it over and not have to worry about me being around to...influence any decisions." I thought about him getting on a plane and leaving and my heart sunk a little, but he was right. He was a bit distracting.

"Okay, that's fine," I said, nodding in approval, "That's a good idea." He smiled softly.

"Good, we actually agreed on something," he chuckled. "I guess I'll leave tomorrow."

"After I get home from work," I said, "I want to see you off."

He smiled a little brighter. "Okay, after work." I nodded and we stood there awkwardly before I tossed the plastic shopping bags I was still holding into the corner of my room. "Well, I guess I better let you sleep. Early shift, right?" I nodded. "Okay...well, g'night." He slowly moved foreward and kissed my forehead and then my cheek. I stood stiff until he pulled away, leaving his scent in my nose.

"Goodnight," I called as he turned and walked towards the door. He smiled at me over his shoulder and walked out into the hall, pulling the door shut behind him. I stared at the wooden barrier and just as the first stair creeked, I yanked it open. "On second thought, you can sleep up here."

I barely saw him move because he was right by my side as the words left my mouth. We both laughed at his excitement, but I didn't tease him beyond that. I felt awkward, but Justin comfortably tossed himself into my bed as I headed over to my bureau. I opened a drawer and pulled out a night gown. It was cotton, but lace trimmed. Justin whistled from behind me and I laughed.

"Shut up and turn around," I said, laying the material on the top of the bureau as I yanked my off my top. I stood in a tank and nursing pants.

"Nope," he said, shaking his head, "I like the view from here."

"Fine," I said, grabbing my nightie and turning to leave. Justin 'boo'ed me as I left, calling me a party pooper and I laughed at his childish ways. I changed in the bathroom and folded up my clothes from the day. As I walked back into the room, Justin was quiet and just looking me over. I felt strange and self conscious as I tossed my used clothes into the hamper.

"You're really beautiful," he complimented as I hit the lights and the room flooded with a blue-ish glow from the moon.

"Stop trying to influence my decision," I joked as I climbed into the bed, over him, and to the empty left side. I laid down, pulling the sheets over my body as Justin did the same. We were both on our sides, facing each other and in the silence, I felt like we were talking. I was telling him how much I loved him and he was whispering back the same.

"Am I allowed to hold you?" he asked with a small smile. "Or would that influence your decision?"

"It would influence it, but you can hold me." His arm wrapped around my waist and we scooted closer to each other. His hand rubbed the small of my back in comforting circles as my hand rested against his chest between us. I felt his heart beating against my hand and closed my eyes to concentrate on the rhythm. Justin kissed my forehead and my hold body relaxed. I wrapped my arm around his waist and gave him as good a squeeze as I could manage. He chuckled a little, his whole body shaking lightly.

"Sorry, but your hair's tickling my neck," he laughed again, "I've been trying to hold it in, but I can't." He laughed again as I purposely shook my head and tickled him with my hair. I stopped for a moment because I started laughing too before I turned my back to him. I lined myself against his body as he settled down. I bunned up my hair and he held my waist as I finished. I laid my hand on top of his, intertwining our fingers as we spooned. I felt his body all around me and I knew that I was safe in his arms. It was a comforting feeling and I almost made my decision right then and there.

"I can't even tell you how good this feels. . ." Justin told me softly, "This, I hope, influences your decision." I didn't respond as he kissed the back of my neck gently. I just moved back against him and gave his hand a little squeeze.

I watched the olive in my martini glass swirl around in the thin layer of liquid left at the bottom. It was an apple martini, one of three, and I still wasn't feeling any better. My feet swung from the bar stool and I pouted as the music in the background thumped the floor. Song after song went by and I never moved. I barely heard. The dancefloor was on the lower level and I was up on the top level in the lounge/bar area of Club 27. It was definitely nice around here and Clare was super excited to pick me up. Too bad that I can't even enjoy this. I'm too busy wondering about what he's doing. It's been about 24 hours since he tossed me the deuces and left again, promising to call in three to five days. I said okay, but now I wished I didn't. I wished I asked that he call me every night he was in LA. He did text me once he landed and promised not to influence me anymore until we spoke on the phone and in person. I wanted him to 'influence' me every got damn day. I frowned deeper when a heavy sigh beside me caught my attention. I glanced to my left.

"I'm sorry," I apologized, knowing I was wrong, "I know I should be dancing or something, but I'm just not in the mood."

"Then why did I waste my gas and time picking you up?" Clare asked, obviously annoyed by my quiet, anti-social behavior. I shrugged in response.

"I didn't expect to be this ... preoccupied," I said, "Maybe in a little bit, I'll join you guys." I was referring to the other nurses Clare invited from work, with the exception of Shannon. I was thankful that she wasn't going to mess around and bring that heifer in my face.

"Or maybe you'll join us now," she demanded, reaching from my hand and attempting to drag me off the stool. I gripped the counter of the bar and held my ground.

"Clare, if I go down there like this, I'll just be standing in the middle of the dancefloor with the same dead face. You might as well let me stay up here until I feel better."

Clare rolled her eyes, placing her hands on her waist causing her gold bracelets to chime as they slid down her wrists. "You won't be feeling better until that boy is standing right next to you." True, but I didn't say that out loud. I just casted my eyes on my drink and swirled the olive around. Clare sat silently beside me for just a moment before sighing. "Just call him so you can have a good time already." I scoffed and whipped my head around to face her.

"Clare, please, I'd like to keep an ounce of my dignity," I said, "He's barely been gone a day and I'm calling him? No. That's just some desperate shit."

"Well, you are desperate," she pointed out and I glared at her. "Well you are!"

"I'm not desperate, asshole," I pouted, "I'm just... adjusting to him being away right now."

"You're desperate..." Clare mumbled and I pretended not to hear her.

"You know what, this is what I'm talking about anyway," I said, a lightbulb going on in my head, "This shit. This ... missing him stuff. It's what's going to drive me crazy."

"What are you talking about?" Clare asked, placing some money on the bar to get the bartender's attention.

"I'm talking about Justin being away," I sighed as the bartender came over, decked out in all black attired, with the exception of a white napkin in his shirt pocket. He was fairly good looking, but obviously young. He was barely skimming the 21 year line. I wondered if he were even of legal age to bartend. Wasn't there some tiype of restriction?

"What can I get you ladies?" he asked in a deep tone that clashed with his baby face. Olive eyes and peachy skin. His hair was short and spikey and he looked like he smelled like Old Spice and peppermint for some reason. I left my thoughts and lifted my class.

"Martini," I said, "Watermelon."

"Good choice," he smiled before turning to Clare, "And you, beautiful?" Clare giggled like a school girl and I rolled my eyes.

"Let me get a Malibu Bay Breeze," she smiled and he offered her a wink.

"Coming right up," he assured, already grabbing bottles at lightening speed. I kicked Clare discretly and she looked over at me.

"You're drooling," I teased and she rolled her eyes.

"Don't be jealous," she told me as my martini class was suddenly in front of me.

"Thanks," I told the bartender before turning to Clare, "Aren't you married?"

"Shhh...!" Clare hissed as her 'lover' glanced up at us and smiled, "I'm trying to enjoy myself, thank you very much."

"Well, I hope you keep your enjoyment on a faithful level," I warned, "You go to hell for stuff like that." She smacked her lips and took her drink from the hands of her newfound interest's hands.

"Tony," he told her.

"Clare," she replied. He glanced over at me and then turned back to her.

"So I've heard," he smiled, "Your husband is lucky."

"Is he really?" I smartly interrupted and Clare nudged me as Tony laughed.

"From what I see, he is," he said, picking up her hand and giving it a kiss, "The drinks are on me."

"Well, thank you," Clare giggled again and I lifted my glass.

"Thanks, Tony," I smiled as he nodded and walked back up to the opposite end of the bar to help with more orders. He stole a couple of glances in Clare's direction and she smiled brightly before turning back to me.

"You see? That's why you let 'em flirt with you," she said, sipping on her drink and doing a little dance, "This is so good!"

"It always tastes better when it's free," I told her, taking a gulp of my martini, "This is delicious." She winked at me and nodded in agreement as she sipped her Malibu.

"See, that's exactly what you need to be doing," she told me suddenly, "Getting drinks from delectable young men." I rolled my eyes and shook my head.

"Delectable young men are nothing, but trouble," I said, seeing nothing but Justin, "And you, little Miss. Thang, need to keep away from delectable young men and stay home with your own man." Clare laughed and nonchalantly waved me off.

"Girl, please, that man at home is everything to me. There's not enough free drinks in the world that could change that." She sipped her Malibu again, damn near finishing the entire glass, "I'm more worried about you right now. What are you going to do?" I shrugged, not sure of what I was going to do now or in the future when it came to Justin...If there was a future.

"Clare, I just want to lay down," I complained, "I'm sorry for ruining the night, but I think that's what I'm going to do." I gulped down the last of my martini. "I'll call a cab."

"No, no," she sighed, finishing her Malibu, "I'll take you."

"You sure?" I asked and she nodded, "I mean, are you sure you can drive?" She shot me a look that told me to shut up and I raised my hands in mock surrender. "You just drank that kinda fast. I don't want it hitting you later." She stood and wobbled a little bit. I made a face and she fished her keys from her purse and handed them to me. I smiled to myself triumphantly as I detached her car keys from the ring and handed her back the rest of her keys.

"I'll take your car," I explained, digging through my purse and pulling out forty dollars, "This should be enough to get you home."

"What?" she asked, confused, "I'm going home with you." I shook my head.

"Stay here and have some fun, Clare. Desiree will make sure the cabbie gets you to the right place. She's the designated babysitter of the night, so get drunk and then go home." Clare suddenly reached for me and gave me a hug. I hugged her back automatically before she pulled back and gave me a worried look.

"If you really miss him this bad, then call him tonight. I'm sure he won't mind hearing from you." I rolled my eyes, but nodded.

"I'll call him when it gets to be too much, but right now, I'm just looking to sleep."

"Alright then," Clare sighed, obviously not happy with my answer, "Text me when you get in." I promised her I would and watched her sashay away before I exited the club. Clare had parked two blocks away and even though it was late, downtown Philly was popping tonight. Thirsty Thursday and cheap drinks would make any city come alive. My heels tapped against the cement as I walked quickly to the car, my pepperspray in hand. It was busy, but still wasn't safe, especially when I'm walking alone in heels I can barely stand on, much less run in.

Despite all my paranoia, I got to the car fine and locked the doors the moment I was inside. The car started with ease and I pulled out of the spot as I clipped my seatbelt on. As I turned out on the Roosevelt boulevard, I hit the gas. There were no cops and hardly any cars out here at damn near three in the morning and I was gunning it home. I really did want to go home and sleep. Sleep was a time of emptiness and with my head and heart so full of thoughts, it would be nice to be empty for once.

I sighed as I stopped at a red light and thought of Justin. I missed him and my chest ached with a longing for him. My waist was begging for his arms. My lips still tingled at the thought of his kiss... I was so miserable and he just got home again. It was only last night that he was enveloping me in his arms. I shook my head at how weak I was, pushing back my tears.

I wasn't cut out for the job of being Justin Timberlake's girlfriend. I needed him here with me and reality wouldn't allow that. I'd see him more on television than I would in person. He'll be surrounded by beautiful women and staying as faithful as he can for as long as he can, but... A part of me wasn't so sure about Justin's innocent-no-cheating-ways. He was only human after all. He had to slip up once and I wouldn't even blame him because I'd be too busy beating myself up for being stupid enough to be with him.

The thought of that almost made me sick as the light turned green and I continued on my way. How could Justin want this? How could he enjoy being torn apart and talked about week after week? I hated being the center of attention. I never wanted anybody to look my way. I shied away in the shadows and did what I needed to quickly so I could make my escape. I only have a handful of friends and most of them I meant through other people. Justin's world required so much contact with the outside world and even if I could avoid the limelight in the beginning, Justin and I could become much more serious and... What if we get married? Our wedding will be on Access Hollywood. And if we had kids... They'd grow up to hate all the security they're going to need while growing up. Mike was a nice guy and all, but he wasn't subtle in his size. You could see him a mile away. Privacy would be a privilege and no longer a right...

I didn't want that and as much as I wanted Justin, I needed to have a life that I could enjoy in private with no cameras and a man by my side, not on my phone because he's in Tokyo on tour.

I was back at my place before I knew it and I sighed in relief as I parked Clare's car behind my Lexus. I wanted to just get to bed and stop torturing myself. I already knew my answer and I would call Justin tomorrow rather than prolonging it. My chest hurt and my tears welled up again at the thought of calling him with the news.

I wiped away my tears though, reminding myself that I needed to pull it together if I wanted to sound normal when I was trying to talk to him. I took deep and easy breaths as I walked quickly to my door and unlocked it. It was dark in my house and Bob meowed in the shadows. I wish I had his cat eyes so I could see everything, but I settled for my light switch instead after I locked my door behind me. He was already twisting around my leg, almost making me trip as I tried to avoid kicking him while I shook off my heels. My feet relaxed and I sighed as I stumbled towards the kitchen, my clutch purse tucked securely beneath my arm. The martini's were messing with my head a bit as I switched on the kitchen light and walked towards the fridge to get a bottle of water. I had barely twisted the cap before my phone vibrated. It tickled my arm before I dug it out of my clutch bag. The screen was an unfamiliar number and I rejected the call before tossing it back into my bag.

It was just a second later before that vibration started again and I rolled my eyes at the same unfamiliar digits. I flipped it open this time and sighed into the phone. "Hello?" There was a giggle and some noise in the background.

"Hey..." Slurred, but familiar the voice was and I smiled to myself.

"Clare?" I asked.

"Damn it," she tried to whisper, "She knows who I am!" There was some laughter in the background.

"Who are you talking to, crazy?" I teased and she shushed her entourage before getting back to me.

"Nobody," she lied, "Are you home?"

"Yes, I'm home," I answered, "Where are you?"

"I'm in da club," she sang, doing a terrible redention of Usher's song, "In da club..."

"Are you going home soon?"

"No," she laughed, "I got more drinkin' to do!" I pulled the phone away from my ear as she cackled into the line.

"Okay... text me when you get in...?" I said with uncertainty.

"Okay!" she hollered, "Bye!"

"B-" The line went dead before I even got 'bye' out. I rolled my eyes and smiled to myself as I headed out the kitchen, switching out the lights downstairs as I headed up. I checked all my rooms before going to my bedroom. Bob followed me the entire way before making himself comfortable on the foot of my bed. I unzipped my dress and pulled it down my body, tossing it to the side. It was warm enough, so I just removed my bra, flipped off the light, and slipped into bed with just my underwear on.. I pulled a pillow against my body, pretending it was Justin and sighed.

Tomorrow was going to be a long day.

_________________________________________________

I stretched across my bed and yawned loudly. Today was Friday and it was raining out. Thurder cracked and I jumped a bit, startled by the change in weather. I had never experienced a thunderstorm so early in the morning. I sat up and Bob purred beside me in his sleep. I gently scratched behind his ear, but he didn't move. I now felt a bit chilly and I hugged my bare top as I climbed out of bed and walked straight towards my bureau. I found a cotton night gown and tossed it on. It was hideous, but warm. Justin would eat me alive and call me Grammy if I ever wore this in front of him...

I was smoothing out the wrinkles in my gown as my heart raced. I had to let him know today before he booked any flights here with hopes high and foolish. We would be perfect if he were Matthew, but his title and his status was too much for lil' ol' me. I wasn't meant for Hollywood and cameras and paparazzi and that's what his celebrity lifestyle required. His career was bigger than me. Than us. We'd fail so that his music could succeed. It was only a matter of time... Distance and loneliness would eventually break us part, maybe even make him cheat, and I didn't want that. I couldn't survive knowing that he was that guy when he should've been different.

I sighed and shook my head, glancing up at my alarm clock long enough to see it was almost one in the afternoon. So much for morning, I thought bitterly. I'd brush my teeth and shower before I made the call. I could think over my words and relax a little beforehand. Yeah, that sounded like a plan worthy of execution. I still had knots in my stomach as I fumbled over my words, mumbling my speech in a hundred different ways as I showered, brushed, and dressed myself in sweats and a tank. I was now flipping through the channels of my television with my cell phone in hand. It felt heavy as I settled on 'Divorce Court' and imagined myself on the stand with Justin, telling the judge that I should've known better than to mess with him.

That was silly. Justin and I would never be on a show so tacky (yet entertaining). We'd have enough respect for each other to be civilized, right? We'd just softly separate and nobody would have to know... I frowned, knowing it was a lie. Justin Timberlake's break up would be front page news. I muted the television and flipped open my phone. The screen was a picture of me cheesing my ass off. Justin loved it because he said he loved my smile...I opened up my contacts, feeling my courage depleting. I pressed the letter 'M' and found Matthew three names down. Justin's number was highlighted. All I had to do was press the green button and the conversation would begin after a few short rings.

But my thumb refused to move. As much as I was screaming at myself to get it over and done with, my heart was clinging to the last bit of hope I had for him and I. Was I being too rash? Did I really want this to not work? I couldn't be his friend if I couldn't be with him - that much I knew. I would just keep loving him and it would be torture, especially if he found somebody else in my presence. It would be better if I just wasn't around.

But I didn't want to not be around... But I didn't want to be heart broken in the end either, especially if I could stop it now. It was common sense to prevent yourself from getting hurt. You're taught to survive. Save money for a rainy day. Don't walk down dark allies. Carry pepper spray. Learn to fight. Get life insurance. Get vaccinated. Be educated. Life was about precaution. You had to keep yourself from harm. That's what I was doing. I was keeping myself from harm.

I took a deep breath and choked on it the moment my phone vibrated in my hand, Matthew's name flashing on the screen impatiently. I stared at it. My fingers shaking as it vibrated some more. I pressed the green button with my eyes closed and pressed the phone against my ear. I didn't speak, but I was breathing hard enough for him to hear me.

"Ummm...Sash?" a hesitant voice spoke into the line softly and I bit my bottom lip. "Hellurrrr...?" he joked and I finally caved in.

"Hey," I said, sounding a lot more upset than I intended.

"What's wrong?" Justin asked, concerned as ever. I could practically see the creases in his forehead as he furrows his brows.

"Nothing," I lied, "No, there's something." There was a pause.

"Are you mad that I called so early?" he asked, "I just figured I'd check up on you. It's just a day early."

"I don't care about that," I assured, "I'm glad you called. I was having a hard time calling you."

"Something wrong with your phone?" he inquired, making me snort. Of course he'd think something was wrong with my actual phone. He was probably already thinking a new one he could buy me and force me to use.

"No, but I might have something wrong with me," I said with a sad smile.

"What's that suppose to mean?" he asked, still sounding worried, but curious. I paused and thought over my words. Nothing seemed right. It was all jumbled up and wouldn't come out of my mouth. My stomach was so knotted up that I felt like I was going to throw up with all my nervousness. Breaking his heart was as nervewrecking of an experience as giving him my heart was. A part of me was ready to do it, but another part... not so much.

"Well... I thought about us being together..." I started out, trying to sound neutral. I could feel my voice starting to shake. I tried to remind myself to stay calm, but my hands were fidgeting and I was counting my breaths as I breathed.

"And...?" he asked, his voice cheerful and I could practically feel his smile against my cheek. I closed my eyes, kicking myself mentally. Way to go, asshole. Now he'll really be heart broken. I didn't mean for my tone to give him hope. It sounded sad to me, at least. Maybe he had already told himself that I'd say yes. Of course I'd say yes. We were in love and meant to be in Justin's fairytale world. The boy was too naive at times.

"And..." I didn't want to be mean. I didn't want to cut down his hopes and kill his dreams for us, but I had to. I just didn't know the worlds to use. How do you tell someone the last thing they want to hear? I guess you didn't tell them at all because my mouth kept opening and shutting with no words.

"Sash?" Justin called out after a moment of silence.

"I'm here," I said.

"You're not saying anything," he said, stating the obvious, "I'm going to assume that you don't want to tell me your conclusion."

"I want to tell you, but I don't," I said, "I'm sorry... I don't want to hurt you, but I-"

"Sash..." Justin whined into the line. "You cannot be serious right now!"

"I am serious," I told him, wiping my face off with my arm as tears wet my cheeks, "I"m very serious." Justin groaned like a five year old having a tantrum before mumbling something I couldn't quite make out.

"I don't understand," he spoke out loud, "You don't want this? You don't want us?"

"It's not a matter of want," I said, "I want a lot of things, but that doesn't mean anything. I need a stable relationship and you can't give me that. I thought about this -"

"When did you think about it?" Justin asked, interrupting me again, "It's been a day!"

"I don't think I can mull over this much longer," I said, "I've thought about us being together for a while now. Not just last night, but from the moment I met you."

"And your conclusion is that you don't want to be with me?" he asked in a disbelieving tone, "That's bullshit."

I stressed, "It's not bullshit, it's how I feel. I don't say your feelings are bullshit -"

"I beg to differ," he interrupted, again. "You're saying my feelings are bullshit now by saying that you don't want us together."

"I know you care about me-"

"I love you," he corrected, making me growl in frustration, "My feelings have surpassed the caring stage."

"Fine, you love me," I relented, "But that's not enough. Life doesn't give a shit about your love or my love or our love. I know you think I don't see things for what they are because I'm so pessimistic, but I can't be in this oblivious world of optimisum either. I have to put my foot down and be honest with myself. My life is not your life. Our worlds cannot coincide. I can't be caught in your limelight and you can't sit here and say that I won't be."

"That comes with the territory," he said simply, "If you date somebody of my stature, than yeah, there will be limelight, but you'll get used to that." I shook my head, even though he couldn't see me.

"No, I won't get used to people jumping out of bushes to take my picture."

"They usually don't jump out from the bush; they prefer to be hidden." I snarled and he chuckled. "It's true!"

"I'm being serious, Justin," I complained, "I'm not going to be your tabloid partner in crime. I refuse to be away from you for months at a time. You're already living in Los Angeles. Do you have any idea how hard it was for you to be gone for just one day? I almost lost my mind! What am I going to do when you're on tour or busy with work?"

"Sash, you're not the only one who was missin' somebody," he said, "It was as hard for me as it was for you. I missed you terribly and when I'm on tour, I'm going to miss you ten times more. You shouldn't let missing each other ruin the idea of you and I."

I rolled my eyes. He made everything seem so black and white. "Justin, fine. Maybe missing you a little bit wouldn't be a legit reason to not want to do this, but if you're half way across the country and I'm not going to see you tomorrow or two days later or even a week later, than I reason enough to become frustrated, lonely, and alarmed that maybe you're not as busy as you say you are. Maybe you can come visit me, but you don't want to. Maybe things will change and you'll get tired of missing me too. Of being lonely and frustrated.... Then...who knows? Will you cheat? Will we just break up?"

"I'm not telling you again, Sash: I will never cheat on you - or anybody for that matter."

"You cheated on Jessica, technically," I said, "You cheated on her emotionally and you kissed me. Twice!"

"Are you complaining?" he asked sarcastically, "I'm kind of in love with you, Sash."

"Well, what if you kind of fall in love with somebody on tour? Or at least be attracted to them." I challenged and he laughed. He downright laughed at my question and I stood on the line and listened. I was enraged into silence. What the fuck was so funny?

"Sash..." he tried to speak through laughter, "You're kidding, right?"

"No I'm the fuck not, dickbag," I snapped, "What the fuck are you laughing at? You thinking cheating on me is funny?"

"No," he settled, still chuckling a little, "But the idea of me just falling in love with somebody on tour is... ridiculous. Sash, I fell for you because I thought I was allowed to. I was amazed and mesmerized by you. It's not because I just thought you were hot. I see hot chicks everyday. LA is full of beautiful people, but you have my heart, right?"

"So you fell for the ugly duckling, I get it-"

"You're not ugly," he quickly defended, "You're more beautiful than any of the Barbies walking around this town. They don't compare to you 'cause you're on a whole other level, baby, I swear." I rolled my eyes again.

"You're full of shit, but thank you," I said softly, "But, Justin, you'll get lonely and when a man is lonely he gets horny..."

"And when I get horny, I'll want to fuck the shit out of you," he added in, "And that's what I'll do the moment I see you. Whether it's a day apart or three months apart, I'll be waiting for that moment. I'll be dreaming about it. I'll be right-handin' myself until it happens. But that's as much cheating as I'll ever do."

"I didn't need to know all that," I said, pretending to be disgusted, but the thought of him doing that actually turned me on. Especially since he'd be thinking about me... It almost made me change my mind. Almost.

"You did, actually," he argued back, "I'm being a hundred percent honest with you."

"So you'll just be right-handing yourself all night, everyday, until you see me again?"

"Yes," he said without hesitation, "I'll expect you to do that same." I didn't acknowledge that statement, somewhat embarassed by the thought of telling him I masturbated. It seemed private and he was sharing it with me like it was normal conversation.

"Well, I also don't want to have to change my life to accomadate yours," I spoke suddenly, remembering the purpose of this phone call, "And I'm going to have to do that. The longer we're together, the move exposure I'm going to get to the outside world. I won't have any privacy. I don't want people lurking in my bushes out back trying to get a pic of you. I don't want you in LA while I'm here. I don't want to uproot myself over to LA to make you happy either."

"You don't have to uproot yourself," he sighed into the line. I could hear him shifting around, "Listen, I thought about this. I can definitely get you here and home before the night is over if you want. I can arrange for private jets. I can get a penthouse in downtown Philly and get some work done down there. Plus, when you visit me in LA, I have a place for you to stay, as long as you want."

"You can't throw all that money around and move your work every which way to make me happy," I said, "I just told you I'm not doing that, so I don't want you to do that either."

"And I just told you I love you," he shot back, "And your happiness is worth the penthouse and the private jet. Sash, you being with me is worth everything in the world. And I'll give you that. I'll give you whatever you want and need."

"I need you here with me, normal and unrecognizable to the world. Paparazzi and tabloid free. Millionaire to nothing. I want Matthew. I want you to be on my sofa, befriending Bob and tying my Chuck laces. I want chicken sandwiches at unreasonable hours of the night and I want you to kiss my cheek just because you wanted to know what it would be like..." I whispered sadly, "I want you to promise that we'll never break up and hurt each other 'cause I'll probably never recover from that pain...That's what I want and that's what I need."

Justin sighed and I knew I asked for things he wanted to give me but couldn't. "I can't give you normalcy and privacy. My face does bring a lot of attention and I'm sorry for that. I can't empty my accounts and just be Matthew again. Even if I were broke, I'd still be me. I can sleep on your couch and hold Bob and make you mediocre chicken sandwiches, but I can't promise to never break your heart or hurt you. That would a lie to say that I can and I'm giving you nothing but honesty. I'm going to fuck up and you're going to fuck up and we'll hurt, but we'll get through it together. I can't promise you forever, but I can promise you my heart. I can promise you that I'll love you the best way I know how, but I'm only a man. I can't predict the future. I don't know if tomorrow's coming or if today's it for me. I just know that when I think of being happy, it's with you. When I think of love, it's you. When I think of my future, you're in it. When I wake up in the morning and go to sleep at night, you're on my mind. I don't know what else to say or do, but I'm scared of the unknown too. I just know that us being together, no matter how long or short, is worth whatever might happen to us. I also know that not being with you at all... That's unfathomable. I can't force you to be with me, but I can tell you that everyday that I'm not with you, I'll be suffering. I'll be missing you. I'll be trying to think of a million different ways to make you change your mind."

I listened to his words and nodded my head along. He should be a politician. Justin could talk you into believing anything. His swag, in combination with his sweet words was like poetry. If I didn't know anybody, I would've told him okay, but I was smart enough to know that words were words.

"I'm sorry," I told him after a moment, "I want to tell you yes, but I can't right now. Maybe I need to think this over some more."

"You can take all the time you need, Sash, but we can't do couple things and act like a couple whenever we're together until you know what you want. I don't want to keep teasing myself anymore." Justin told me.

"What are you talking about?" I tried to play dumb as Bob yawned, finally waking up as I stroked his back.

"I'm talking about kissing, and holding hands and each other," he clarified, "I'm talking about making love and flirting."

"Okay, fine," I said, somewhat bitter, "If you don't start it, we won't do it."

"Even if I do slip up and start it, you shouldn't let me."

"I won't," I assured, "We're friends now, I guess. Until I think this through." Justin grumbled something beneath his breath.

"Yeah, we're friends," he all but groaned out, sounding as frustrated with the idea as I felt. I frowned deeply, knowing the ball was in my court and all I could do was stare at it and wish that it would somehow make the decision for me. . .

Three weeks ago, Justin and I hung up the phone (after a very awkward silence), establishing that we were friends with no types of benefits until I (unfortunately) make a clear decision about what I want us to be and where I want us to go in the future. He made himself loud and clear before hanging up.

Geez, Justin. Thanks for the added pressure in choosing where I wanted to be - that's what I wanted to say, but I just mumbled an 'Okay' and went about my business. So there was his ultimatum, I suppose. Love him or leave him. Be with him or without him. There was no inbetween for me and I was so frustrated with all the black and white. Gray wasn't so bad, was it? Could him and I be gray for just a little bit? A kiss here and some sex there, but title free? Why did he practically have to brand his name on my ass to claim me and be satisfied?

My stomach growled angrily as I sat at the lounge table and poked at my alfredo chicken and pasta. It was a Lean Cruise meal that smelled funny, but tasted fairly well. I wanted to eat it, but I always got sidetracked with stupid thoughts of stupid Justin.

I stabbed my plastic fork into a piece of chicken and stuck into my mouth, chewing it with unnecessary force as I glared at the table. This is exactly why penis was the devil. Men always fucked up your mind and messed with your sanity. Even the really good ones that just wanted to love you... I shook my head and sighed. I didn't really know why I was agonizing over a decision that seems so simple to others, but my heart... My heart was so anxious. It just anticipated every worse-case heart break scenario I could go through with Justin. I was downright terrified of us falling apart. I didn't want to resent him like I resented Angel. I didn't want to look into his eyes one day and not know who he was anymore. The drama between us would be public. My turmoil would be a source of entertainment. US Weekly and Access Hollywood would be at my front steps, begging for an exclusive looking into my 'life after Justin Timberlake'. MTV would give me a television show...

It was a circus. Everything Justin related would eventually drive us both insane. I just wanted the man. I just wanted the Justin that was a sore loser during Checkers games and a sexy seducer in the bedroom... God, I just wanted him in bed all day, all the time. What was I going to do when he's away? I might just quit my job just so I could get some every night. I bet that's what he'll want too. He'll want me to quit my job eventually and just follow him around the world. My girly side was giggling with joy at the idea of just being with him, but my overbearing independent side wanted to throw me around like a rag doll to knock some sense into me. Yes, I loved him, but I loved myself more. People always get too deep and get too dependent and when things fall apart, they do too. I needed to keep my feet on the ground and not in these fairy tale mindsets. A life with Justin was complicated and a huge test on the strength of our relationship. I was already distrusting of him. I was scared of him cheating while he was on tour. I was going to be insanely jealous of every gorgeous female dancer he would spend his entire day grinding on. I wouldn't be able to withstand seeing that. Even if it meant nothing, it could mean something and that's why it bothered me. I wouldn't be able to tell the difference.

"Your lunch break is over in two minutes and you still aren't done." The sentence was short and simple, but the voice behind it was alarming. My eyes shot up at the speaker and even though I knew full well who it was, I was still a bit shocked to see my mother standing at the table across from me with a huge smile on her face.

"Mom," I smiled, standing up and running up to her petite frame. She was even tinier than me by an inch or two. She still managed to give the biggest and best hugs with her tiny arms and her floral scent was still as calming as it was during my childhood. I squeezed her a little moment longer before finally letting her go. I stood back and took her in. She was small with the exception of a mini belly and her many rings lined her fingers. The silver went well with the black ensemble she had on. A long black linen skirt and a white tank top. It was simple, but spring-like. It was exceptionally warm out today and she was embracing it in flip flops too. Her short hair cut was salt and pepper colored and suited her face.

"Well, if you wanted to see me so bad you should've visited," she told me smartly, disrupting my moment of taking her in. I rolled my eyes.

"I've been busy," I said, "But I called the other night."

"Yeah, the one night I go out," she grumbled, "And what are you so busy doing?" I shrugged, thinking of Justin immediately. She didn't know about him yet. I wasn't really good with relationship conversations with my mother. I could already here her reaction anyway.

I loved my mother, but she was a bit narrowed minded and old fashioned. She was okay with Angel, thanks to his ethnicity and the fact that his mother attended the same church service as my mother, but even that was stretched. My sisters were the same and my brothers would just eat Justin alive if they ever met him. I shivered at the very thought. I didn't even think about introducing Justin to my family if we end up together. They're enough reason to avoid the relationship all together too.

"I got work and stuff..." I said with another shrugged, "I've been going to the gym too." My mother gave me the once over.

"You do look thinner," she said with a bit of distaste, "Don't get too small. Nothing's wrong with some meat on the bones. Men like that." I rolled my eyes.

"Mom, don't start," I whined.

"What?" she said, "I was just making a statement." She didn't need to know that I was full aware that men liked meat on the bones. Especially Justin. My ass, my thighs... He would slap, grip, and kiss every inch, especially if I tried to hide my body somehow. He hated that I was the least bit self-conscious.

"I know," I said, trying to change the topic, "How's the grandbabies doing?"

"Getting on my nerves," my mother said, shaking her head, "I swear, if your brother has anymore kids, I'm going to get him fixed." I laughed because I knew she would if she could.

"It's nice to know that you love your son so much." She gave me a side eye.

"Speaking of grandbabies..." she trailed off, looking at me. I raised my hands to end her rant before it started.

"Ma," I groaned, "Do not."

"Sash, ever since that Angel boy you've been so cut off and not even looking for a man," she continued, despite my pathetic attempt to shut her up, "It's been damn near three years."

"Two," I corrected, "And I'm not settling down and having babies just because you're asking me to. I'm still young. People aren't getting married 'til thirty-five these days. That's ten more years for me."

"Thirty-five?!" my mother squeaked out, "Sash, I'll probably be dead by then." I rolled my eyes.

"Mother, you're sixty-three." She rolled her eyes this time.

"That is a very fragile age," she argued.

"You aren't even a senior citizen yet," I complained, "Stop putting a foot in your own grave, woman." She waved me off.

"At any rate, your sister needed some money and I told her she wasn't getting it from me this time," she said, cutting to the chase. I rolled my eyes.

"Tell Rosie to get a job," I said dismissively, "I gave her three hundred bucks the last time. It's Tash's turn." I adjusted a button on my nursing scrubs. I hated that I was the baby in the family and the walking ATM when it game to Rosetta. She was the eldest of my two sisters and although she had the grandbabies my mother begged me for, she was missing the husband and the job that should've came with it. She was four years my senior, but I felt like she was ten years younger than me instead.

"Well you can tell Tash that because I'm not getting in the middle of it," my mother sighed, "I really don't know why I bother with that girl. She's driving me out of my mind." I nodded in agreement, frowning deeper as I thought of all the ways Rosie would try and get Justin's money. If him and I got married... It was done for. Everyday she'd ask for money and guilt him in with her kids - just like she did to us. I didn't want to give Justin the wrong impression of what my family was about. We were not gold diggers or moochers, but somewhere along the line, Rosetta had fallen off the bandwagon. My forehead creased with worry. I didn't want to have to deal with that. I didn't want to have to worry about his money. His fame alone was nawing at my nerves.

"It's okay," I told my mom before reluctantly adding, "I'll give you the money once I get to the ATM today. Three hundred bucks should be enough...again."

"I really don't have it," my mother told me, "I wouldn't have asked you if I did."

"It's fine," I said, "We all have to help each other out sometimes."

"I'm glad you at least remember to help your family because you damn sure don't know how to visit," she criticized jokingly and I rolled my eyes.

"I told that I'm busy."

"With what?" she frowned, looking around me at the table, "Lean Cuisine?"

"Yes, mother, I'm just busy with microwavable meals." Just as I went to roll my eyes for the tenth time in the last two seconds, my phone vibrated against my hip. I unclipped it and read the screen. Justin's name flashed on the screen and my heart jumped. I almost flipped it open until I remembered who was in front of me.

"You're not gonna answer?" my mother ask suspiciously, "Who is it?"

"Nobody," I lied, rejecting the call and clipping it back to my hip. "I didn't recognize the number." My mother gave me a disbelieving grunt before before rolling her eyes.

"You are a lot of things, baby, but a good liar is not one of them," she said, "But that's fine. Keep your secrets now 'cause I'll find out later." Or not, I thought, knowing that I did have the power to make Justin disappear from my life... I just didn't think I had enough will power to do it.

"I don't have secrets," I sighed, "But I do have work." I glanced at the clock on the wall and rolled my eyes, "I'm late coming from lunch now."

"A lunch you didn't even eat." I shrugged and turned back to the table to hurriedly clean up my mess. I put my meal into the fridge by the lockers and my mother watched patiently at the door. My phone vibrated against my hip, signifying another call. I unclipped my phone and it was Justin's name again. I began to worry.

"You don't know them, but they sure know you," my mother mumbled and I debated on whether or not to answer. I didn't want anything bad to be happening, but I knew that Justin wouldn't be able to call if something did happen... Unless his family was calling me from his phone... But they didn't know, did they? He didn't tell them who I was, so why would they call me?

"I have to clock back in, but I'll come back," I said to find a reason to leave her suspicious gaze.

"Whatever, I'll still be here." I tried not to sound disappointed as I mumbled 'Okay' and left the room to go clock in. The moment I was out of earshot and sight, I yanked my phone out and called Justin back. It rang only once.

"Are you at work?" His voice was a mixture of alarmed, relieved, and annoyed. It sounded beautiful to me anyway.

"Yeah," I said, "Sorry, I got caught up -"

"I need to see you," he interrupted, "I'm at your place." I continued to punch in at the time clock on the lobby computer as I furrowed my brows.

"I can't leave work," I said, "Is something wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong, I just -" He paused and took a breath.

"Justin, what's going on?" I said, "Why are you in Philly anyway? Aren't you suppose to be in LA?"

"Sash, either you come home or I'm coming there." I didn't get the urgency, but I felt it. Clare was already looking at me weird from her swivel chair at her desk.

"I have to ask Clare, but I can't guarantee anything," I said, "Are you sure everything's fine?"

"Yes, just hurry up." Then the line went dead and I stared at my cell phone like it had done something wrong. Clare was at my side in two seconds.

"Justin?" she asked, "What's going on?" I shrugged.

"He just told me I needed to come home now," I said, "He sounded...rushed. I don't know..."

"Is something wrong?" Clare inquired and I shrugged.

"According to him, no, but why the urgency?" I wondered if it were just a cover up and something was terribly wrong and he just didn't want me to freak out at work. My heart sank. What if he made the decision for me? What if he decided I was crazy and not worth it or what if Jessica came back to fight for him again?

"Well, don't just stand here all day thinking," Clare said, pushing me towards the nearest exit, "Go find out what's wrong. I'll check up on Mr. Banks for you."

"Thanks," I said before haulting my actions, "Fuck, my mother's here."

"Your mom?" Clare asked, just as confused as me, "What's she doing up here?" I shrugged.

"I don't know, but she's here and Justin's at my place and I cannot take her home with me..."

"Just go and I'll handle her," Clare said, "Where is she?"

"In the lounge," I said, "But whatever you do, do not mention Justin or Matthew or any man whatsoever." She shot me a look. "Don't ask; just don't."

"Okay, but call me tonight." I nodded and thanked her one last time before jetting out of the hospital and towards the parking lot. Even if he said nothing was wrong, I still didn't feel quite right. My stomach was all knotted up and my heart was beating faster than normal. I felt so rushed by the urgency of his tone. What the hell was so important that he flew here and made it to my house before even thinking to call me?

I didn't even remember finding my car, let alone driving it to my house, but by the time I stopped to think about it, I was turning onto my block and parking behind an all too familiar Suburban SUV. Before I could cut off the ignition, the driver's door flew open and Justin came out of it. I was halfway expecting one of his bodyguards, but was relieved and excited to see him. He stood tall and handsome in his purple graphic t-shirt and jeans. The aviators covering his face blocked the eyes I was dying to see, but I was still enthralled by his outward appearance.

I turned off my Lexus and slipped from the car, locking it behind me with the remote control. Justin didn't move from his spot by the oversized SUV. It was awkward approaching him. Did I keep a respectful distance? Did I hug him like I was dying to do? My arms twitched anxiously. My nose inhaled a little deeper as I neared him, trying to catch his scent in the air. His face was so still. I couldn't see his eyes through this sunglasses and it was starting to bother me. Was he angry? Did he miss me too? Why was he standing so damn still?

"Hey." It was one little word, but it was a happy little word and the smirk that adorned his face right after he said it made me relax.

"Hey?" I inquired, "All that rushing for a 'hey'?" He smiled a little wider. I stopped walking a moment ago. I was about two feet away from him.

"Not exactly," he told me and the mischiveous tone of his voice made me lean back a bit.

"What?" I asked, "What is it?"

"Lets go," he said, gesturing behind him towards my house. "We'll talk inside." I just led the way to my house without another word. He kept his distance during the walk to the stairs and stood back as I unlocked the doors. Bob meowed as we entered the house and Justin walked around me to scoop him up, his fancy cologne clashing with the memory of Matthew's Irish Springs scent. He still smelled good though... just different. More expensive almost.

"Hey, buddy," he greeted my cat as he cradled him in his arms, "How are you today?" I smirked, remembering all the times he greeted him that same way. Bob meowed and I swore that he was answering as Justin scratched behind his pointy ears. A purr or two later, Justin placed Bob on the floor and dusted himself off.

"His fur is shedding like crazy," I explained as he ceased his movements and looked up at me, "I don't know what it is."

"Maybe he's stressed out," Justin shrugged. "Cats get stressed."

I made a sour face. "From what? Sleeping all the time, getting free meals..."

"Are you stressed?" Justin asked and I immediately denied it.

"No, I'm perfectly fine," I quickly added, "I've been going to the gym to relieve stress." Justin looked me up and down quickly.

"You look thinner," he said, but it was as disapproving as my mother's tone, "You're not dieting, are you?"

I rolled my eyes. "Not on purpose," I said, "My appetite just changed. Besides, with work and the gym and the Clare, I don't have much time to sit and stuff my face like I used to." I snorted a laugh at myself, but Justin didn't budge.

"I don't want you to get sick," he said, "There's nothing wrong with your weight, Sash. You were perfectly fine before." I frowned, glancing down at my figure self-consciously. I didn't see that big of a difference.

"You sound like my mother," I groaned.

"Seeing that she created you, I'll take that as a compliment," he shot back, "But we're both right. You don't need to lose weight."

"Justin, I have a few extra pounds that I can spare, believe me," I said, "And it's none of your business anyway. It's my body."

"I just don't want you to have some obscene image of yourself when you look in the mirror," he told me gently, taking step toward me, "Honestly, Sash, you're beautiful and I love every last inch of your body. I just want you to remember that."

"Thank you," I said softly, not knowing what else to say as the blood flowed up to my cheeks, "I'm just toning. I'm not going to get crazy and weight ten pounds. I just want to lose like thirty pounds or -"

"Thirty!" Justin exclaimed, "You're going to be anorexic."

"I'm not!" I argued, "That's not a lot."

"That's too much," he told me, "Fifteen, max."

"You can't tell me how much weight to lose," I scoffed.

"Sash, I will force feed you myself if you try and lose thirty pounds." He raised a challenging brow and I rolled my eyes.

"This is all beside the point," I said, "What are you doing here?"

"Promise me you won't lose that much weight," he said, ignoring my question. I stared at him blankly.

"Did you not just hear my question?"

"Promise me," he continued.

"Do you want something to eat or drink?" I said, changing the subject and heading towards the kitchen instead. If he wanted to ignore my question, it was only fair to ignore him.

"Sash..." he whined from behind me as I headed for the fridge.

"I've got water, apple juice, diet Pepsi, lunch meat, left over chicken parm..." I rattled off as I felt him standing beside me.

"You're just going to ignore me?" he asked as I pulled out two cans of diet Pepsi. I handed him a can and he snatched it from my hand.

"Don't snatch," I scolded, shutting the refridgerator door.

"Don't ignore me," he childishly snapped back as he pulled out a chair at the table and sat.

"Don't ignore me," I mocked, taking a seat as well. He rolled his eyes as he took a gulp of his Pepsi before placing the can against the wood top of my kitchen table. I observed the way his fingers still wrapped around the can loosely. His hands were clean and well taken care of, but still held their strong, masculinity. I allowed my eyes to travel back up to his face only to find him staring back at me.

"I have a proposal," he told me, "I want you to really hear me out though."

"A proposal for what?" I had wedding bells in my head and as much as I loved Justin, I didn't want to hear them now or anytime soon.

"I figured out a way that we can both get what we want, at least momentarily."

"And what is it that we both want?" I asked.

"Each other," he said simply. I bit my bottom lip.

"I thought we were friends," I mumbled and he gave me a look.

"You and I both know that it's only a matter of time before one of us slips up and other one doesn't put up the fight their suppose to... And next thing we know, we're rolling over in the morning hoping things have changed or... in your case, haven't changed." I looked at his Pepsi can instead of him. "Sitting here now is hard for me. I just want to kiss you." I looked up at him for a moment.

"You can't say stuff like that," I said, "You're influencing my decision."

"You already know how I feel," he told me, "You know what I'm thinking about."

"I know that your perverted little mind is a dangerous place, especially when you start speaking it," I said, "But as friends, we can't say stuff like that."

"Which brings me back to my proposal," he said, "I think it's probably the smartest thing I've ever thought of."

"Oh, well it must be good," I teased, "Do share."

"Well, Sash, before you buy a car you do what?"

"Test drive it?" I answered automatically.

"And if you like it?" he asked. I shrugged.

"You buy it," I said, "Are you getting me another car?" He laughed and shook his head.

"No, but I am giving you a test drive," he said, reaching across the table for my hands. He removed my Pepsi from my fingertips and pushed it aside to intertwine our fingers. His peachy skin tangled with my brown skin looked strange, but oddly intriguing. I wondered if that's how other people would view us. "I want you to try and be with me... For a week or two. See how it goes...And if you like it...You can have me. A thousand percent of me. But, if you don't..." His thumb ran along my skin as he gave my hands a squeeze, "... You can walk away."

"How am I suppose to test drive a relationship?" I asked.

"I want you to come out to LA with me."

"When am I suppose to do that?" I said, "I have a job."

"Whenever you can," he said, "Don't you get vacation time?"

"I took a lot of days off when you left last time, Justin..." I admitted, trying not to let the pain of those memories tighten my stomach, "I don't want to keep asking for off. I have to work to pay my bills too."

"I'll pay you for your time," he smirked, "It's just a week I'm asking for." I rolled my eyes.

"I'll try," I relented, knowing there was no point in fighting him, "What exactly happens in this week?"

"Well," he sighed, playing with my fingeres absentmindedly, "You come and stay with me and we'll do our thing. We'll be together. I'll take you out, you'll meet my friends and my mother has been dying to meet you-"

"Whoa, cool your shorts, Timberlake," I said, holding my hand up, "I'm meeting people? That's a little deep."

"I love you, Sash and they all know it. Honestly, they want to meet you and see for themselves how great you are."

"What lies have you been telling them?" I asked as he laughed.

"I didn't lie about anything," he assured, "I said you were a beautiful, educated registered nurse at Temple University and you made me fall in love with you."

"I didn't make you do anything," I jokingly argued, "That was your own stupid fault." He smirked at me.

"I'll take the blame than," he said, "But you're meeting them because they're always around me anyway. It's just my mother, Trace, my cousin Rachel, my brothers, my dad Randall, my step father Paul, and my stepmother." My eyes widened in shock.

"Why does your entire family live with you?" He shrugged me off.

"The little ones are visiting in two weeks and my parents come up whenever. The step-family is gonna visit with the boys and Trace and Rachel are attached to my hip... Oh and I forgot to mention my dogs. I told you about Brennan and Brandon, right?"

"I don't like dogs," I said, "I have cat. They'll smell Bob on me and attack me. And what about Bob? I've never left him home alone."

"He can come with," Justin assured.

"So your dogs can eat him?" I asked rhetorically.

"They are the nicest dogs on earth," Justin promised, "They play with my brother's hamster all the time."

"That's a hamster, not a cat," I said, "I'm not risking it." Justin rolled his eyes.

"Can't Clare watch him?" I shrugged.

"I'll ask," I said, "I don't want to dump everything on her though."

"She's your best friend," he said, "You won't be dumping anything on her. She'll be glad to do it." I grunted in response and he squeezed my hand the moment I tried to look away from him. He held my gaze and his blue eyes were as hopeful as they were lustful. My stomach knotted up as I wondered how he honestly was putting up such a fight for me. I would've long been on my way, moving onto the next willing female. And here he was... wanting and loving me for no good reason.

"You are really...stupid," I criticized, shaking my head. He furrowed my brows.

"How the hell am I stupid?" he asked, offended.

"Because you're trying so hard...to be with me...I don't know know why, but you are and that' just... dumb."

"You're stupid for questioning why I'm fighting for us," Justin said, "Perhaps you missed the memo, but you're amazing."

I rolled my eyes. "Okay, Prince Charming, no more talk of how amazing I am," I said, pulling his hand up to my face and caressing my cheek with his warm skin. My eyes closed on the contact as my spine trembled. "Lets just do this." I told him, my eye fluttering open. He was still staring at me with a small smile before he stood from the table, still holding my hand as he came around to where I sat and pulled me up. My nose didn't have to struggle to catch his scent anymore. It was everywhere around me and I was basking in it as he pulled me into his chest and embraced me. My cheek rested against his abdomen as he held me a moment longer. My hands rested on his back and squeezed him before he pulled me back a bit to see my face.

"I promise, you'll want this. You'll want us," he told me softly, cupping my cheek in his oversized hand, "I love you, Sash." It was so mushy it hurt my head, but my heart... It almost flew out of my chest in excitement. This moment was ours and I wouldn't forget it. I wouldn't regret it every happening, cheesy as it was.

"I love you too," I said, not caring as I stood on my toes and brought his lips down to mine in the kiss I've gone too long without.

--------------------------------------------------------------

I wasn't the least bit surprised when Clare jumped for joy and offered me vacation time without hesitation. She would have my next two weeks covered as a paid vacation since I had used all my "sick" days. I was now packed and ready to go as I sat in my living room. The house was strangly empty with Bob gone away at Clare's. I was left alone on my couch, waiting for Justin to call. The entire time I was trying to talk myself out of going. I was so nervous about meeting his family that I bought new clothes and did my hair in loose curls. I even got a manicure and a pedicure... I was freaking out to say the least and Justin mentioned it so casually like meeting his entire family was meaningless.

I was so busy worrying about my stupid mess of a family that I didn't stop to think of his. I knew his family was from the south and I knew they were white and according to history books, that wasn't a very good combination. I wondered if he mentioned I was black... Maybe once he said my name they assumed it... I guess it is a stereotypical name. I didn't really like it growing up, but I grew to like it. It was unique, but what if it were too unique? Justin and Sasheirah. That didn't flow right... He needed to date a Jane or something. I bet they loved Jessica and Justin together. They probably hate me already. They think I'm a homewrecker or something... How much did they know, I wondered.

I shook my head. I needed to calm down. There was a drive to the airport and an entire flight to ahead of me to clear my head, but it wasn't happening fast enough. I stood from the sofa and walked to the kitchen. I checked the stoves and unplugged the microwave. I locked the basement door and grabbed a water bottle from the fridge just as my phone rang from the living room. I jogged to retrieve it from the sofa cushion and flipped it open.

"Hello?" There was a door slamming shut that was in rhythm with a noise from outside.

"Hey, I'm out front," Justin said. My heart jumped, but it was just out of excitement to see him.

"Okay, I'm coming," I said before hanging up and heading for the door. I smoothed out my t-shirt and jeans before opening the door. Justin lifted the aviators from his face to look me up and down.

"Well, aren't we extra cute today?" he teased and I rolled my eyes.

"I'm just trying to look presentable for the family," I said, "It's not too much is it?" He stepped into the house, forcing me back into the living room.

"You look amazing," he told me, kissing my lips as he mumbled against them, "We might just miss our flight..." I giggled and wiggled out of his arms.

"Stop it," I said, still smiling, "Help me with my bags." I heard him groan behind me when he saw all five of my bags.

"Damn, woman, are you moving in?" he joked. I grabbed two small bags and one big one, leaving the heaviest two for him.

"Just for that, you get the big suitcases," I said.

"That's fine," he shrugged off, "I'm a man. I got this." I laughed as he pretended to struggle with the bags for a moment before finally lifting them up and heading towards the door. I checked the house living room one last time as he put my suitcases into his car. I frowned a bit, my worry overflowing in me again.

"You okay?" I heard Justin ask from behind me as I stood at the door. I turned to face him and he took all three bags from my hands before I could protest.

"Yeah, I'm fine," I assured, taking the keys from my pockets to lock the door.

"Then lets go!" Justin said excitedly, jogging to the car to place my other three bags in the Suburban he was driving. I nodded and turned back to my door. Hesitating to shut the door before locking it up. I sighed and walked down the stairs to the car. Justin was waiting by his driver's door, the sun reflecting from his aviator shades. He pulled me into a quick hug before walking me to the passenger door and helping me into the massive vehicle. He jogged to the driver's door and hopped inside before we both buckled up.

"Do you like NERD?" Justin asked, playing with a bunch of CDs. I nodded.

"'Run To The Sun' is my favorite song," I said. He paused his movements to stare at me in disbelief.

"That is my favorite NERD song," he revealed and I raised a brow.

"It's a really good song," I said.

"See," he smiled, popping the NERD album into his CD player, "We're meant to be." He winked at me before blasting the song, the surround sound of his car speakers enveloping us in the rhythm.

"I hope so..." I mumbled, knowing he couldn't hear me as he danced and pulled out into the street. I turned to stare out the window as my block flew by as he sped along the little streets. I couldn't believe I was going to LA. I never left Philly before, so I was excited for that, but I was so scared. Not fitting in wasn't really my biggest worry. I was halfway expecting to be coming home in two days, telling Justin I knew it was a bad idea... I was more concerned about loving LA and his family... I was worried that things would be good. Great... because when things went right, they were always bound to go wrong...

"That wasn't so bad, was it?" I asked as I turned and faced Sash who was sitting next to me as Matt, another body guard of mine, drove my Surburban down the highway. She turned to me with wide eyes and I stiffled a laugh.

"Justin, I think I'm blind," she said, blinking frantically, "I'm seriously blind." I rolled my eyes and allowed a snicker to slip from my lips.

"That wasn't bad," I said, "Not as many flashes as it is at night." She gasped a bit.

"They follow you at night too?" she asked, amazed by the chaos that I hardly noticed anymore. I draped my arm over her shoulder and pulled her to my side. She absentmindedly began to lace her fingers with my own.

"They're everywhere," I said, "They're not that bad all the time though... LAX is the worst. They try and get everybody's picture there. That's there spot for candids." They are the paparazzi. I did my best to prep talk Sash before we landed. She got through okay, but she almost broke my hand as I took hers and guided her through the crowd. I would've laughed at the intensity of her grip if I weren't in so much pain.

"I don't get what's so fascinating," she told me, still a little out of wack, but calming down significantly since we've been in the car, "I mean, you're great and all, but there's a million pictures of you already."

"I know!" I agreed enthusiastically, "I don't get the infactuation with my face, but if they say so..." We grew quiet for a minute as Matt curved along the road way. I turned to look out of the window as the scenary flew by. For a minute, my mind wandered as I thought of being here with Sash by my side, holding my hand as my arm is wrapped around her shoulder. We would be on our way back to our house and not just my place. It wouldn't be her first visit to LA, it would be her home. I got a strange feeling in my gut as the thought of this made me happier than I thought it would.

"Can I ask you something," Sash whispered to me. I barely caught it, but I turned my head to face her. She adjusted herself so that I could see her face fully.

"Sure," I said, "What's up?" She glanced away from me for a moment, staring out over my shoulder.

"It's stupid, but it's been bothering me, I guess," she mumbled. I raised a brow.

"What's wrong?" I asked, concerned already.

"Nothing's wrong, but I was just curious..."

"About..." I egged on and she shrugged again.

"Does your family...know..."

"Know what?" I asked, growing a bit impatient.

"That I'm..." she trailed off again and I rolled my eyes.

"Sash, please; just spit it out," I whined. She glanced up at Matt who was so busy driving that he probably forgot we were even here.

"Do they know that I'm black?" she finally asked and I was a bit taken back by her question.

"Why?" I asked automatically and she looked at me like I were crazy.

"Because... I don't know," she said, "Shouldn't you mention things like that?"

"I don't tell them when my girlfriends are white, so why would I do it if she's black?" I asked and she gave me a bored expression.

"That's the dumbest question I ever heard," she told me and I shrugged.

"I just don't see why it matters," I told her, "Does it matter to you?"

"If they know?" she asked and I nodded, "Yeah."

"Why?" I asked again.

"Because... I don't want to... surprise them," she said and I laughed out loud.

"Surprise them?" I asked, "What are they going to do? Scream in shock when they see you? Are you popping out of a cake or something?" I couldn't stop laughing and Sash was giving me death glares.

"You're not funny, Justin," she told me, "I'm serious. You should've told them."

"Sash, they know you're smart, beautiful, funny, and you love me," I said, "I don't know what else is more important than that."

"I just don't know your family and I don't want to walk into something I won't be prepared for," she told, "I've never dated a white guy before... I don't know if it's the same or what."

"Angel wasn't black either," I challenged.

"We grew up in the same parts and he was at least Puerto Rican. My mom still gave me crap for that." My curiousity peaked.

"Does your mom know I'm white?" I asked and she got still in my arms. I nudged her. "Hmm...?"

"My mother doesn't know you exist," she answered, "I didn't tell her about you."

"Oh..." I mumbled, feeling a bit hurt by her words. I suddenly felt like I was overly excited about us. I couldn't shut up about Sash. Trace and my mother were tired of me whining and praising and thinking about her. The world didn't know about her, but two of the most important people to me at least knew.

"My mother and I don't really discuss who I'm dating until we're really serious," she continued.

"Aren't we serious?" I asked and she glanced at me before looking at her lap.

"We aren't even really together," she told her lap, "We're completely unstable."

"But we love each other," I said simply, feeling vulnerable. I was so open about her and she was so closed off about me.

"I know that," she said, finally looking up at me, "But I don't want to introduce a man into my family before I know where we're going."

"You already know where I'm willing to go," I said, "It's you I'm waiting on."

"Don't pin everything on me," she frowned, "I'm just trying to be reasonable here. There's a lot to think about in a relationship."

"I know that," I said, "But I think that once you love somebody, there's enough to at least try and build a relationship on. We can take baby steps like...geez, I don't know - telling our mothers that the person we're in love with exists." Sash rolled her eyes.

"Whatever, Justin," she said dismissively.

"Fine, whatever," I agreed, "But to answer your question, I didn't tell them. I didn't think it mattered to them anyway."

"You don't think it will matter or you know it won't matter?"

"I know it won't matter," I clarified, "My family isn't like that."

"Have you ever brought a black woman home?" I asked, "Have you ever dated a black girl?" I smirked a little, knowing she wouldn't like my answer.

"I brought some home, but I've never dated them."

"You're a whore," she grumbled, pushing my arm off her shoulder. I laughed. "Don't touch me."

"Sash, I'm just being honest," I complained, still laughing as I tried to get her back under my arm. She pushed my arm away repeatedly.

"You really think it's funny that the black women in your life have only been good enough to fuck and not date."

"You're saying it like I purposely go out looking for undatable black women," I said, "I've been involved with black women, but I wouldn't call it dating."

"You were fucking them," she said, "That's what you were doing."

"No, it was a bit more than that," I said, "I was dating them...kinda. It just wasn't serious."

"But all your girlfriends have been what...?"

I rolled my eyes. "I'm not shooting myself in the foot by answering that," I said.

"Oh, but you still shot yourself in the foot by not answering it too." She grunted disapprovingly and leant away from me with her arms crossed over her chest. Her lips were pursed and her eyes were narrowed. It was an oddly sexy stance, but I knew better than to say that.

"Sash, I don't see color, you should know that," I said, "Why are you worried about my past anyway? It's the future that you should be thinking about."

"I think about that all the time," she said, relaxing her face.

"And what do you see?" I asked and she shrugged.

"Depends," she answered.

"On what?" I asked. I used my questions as distractions while I reached for her cross arms. I tugged them apart and she sighed as I scooted closer to her.

"It depends on how we're doing that day," she answered, allowing me to pull her back under my arm.

"So what's our future like today?" I asked curiously.

"Today it's good," she said, placing her hand on my stomach before I rested mine on top of hers. "Today it's just like this... Us just driving home." My heart tightened up.

"Home?" I asked again, seeing my vision for the future matching hers.

"Yeah...home." I kissed the top of her head, giving her side a hug as we continued along the road. She was all warm and soft in my arms and I wondered how she could doubt this. Doubt what we are. We were just bickering moments ago and now she's enveloped in my arms, just like that. Her scent was filling my car and my nose and I knew that I'd never forget her smell. My car would never quite smell the same after her. If there were an after her...

I held her closer, not liking the thought of being without her one bit. She had to feel it too. All this emotion couldn't be just one-sided.

"I love you," I told her softly and she tilted her head up to kiss the spot where my jaw met my neck. It shot chills straight through me.

"I love you too," she mumbled against my skin, pushing herself against me as she cupped my face and lined her lips with mine. It was soft -her mouth- almost like silk. I wondered if she knew her menthol gloss was sweet and made my tongue tingle as it swept across her bottom lip. She pulled away from me slowly before I could get a chance to fully taste her and I was fully disappointed.

"What?" I asked, feeling her hands against the back of my neck and hip to support herself.

"I almost forgot we weren't alone," she said softly, getting shy all of a sudden. It was completely endearing as I reached behind her and pushed a small black button on the door. She watched in amazement as a tinted screen blocked Matt's view of us.

"The magic button," I said simply before she smiled down at me.

"I thought they only had those in limos," she said, relaxing against me again, allowing our noses to brush.

"Well, I can get exculsive shit like that," I said hurriedly, leaning in to kiss her, but she pulled back. "What?" I asked again, hating the disruptions.

"I'm still not fooling with you because you put up a window."

"It's sound proof," I assured, giving up on her mouth and kissing the breasts exposed through her v-neck t-shirt. Her breathing hitched as I ran my tongue between the valley of her breasts and up her neck before kissing and sucking along her pulse. She moaned and held the back of my neck tighter as her other hand rested on my shoulder.

"You're so bad..." she sighed as I kissed the spot behind her ear, the one I know she loves, and gripped her wide hips in my hands.

"Or am I so good...?" I taunted, running my tongue along her lobe. She trembled and my hands slid down her back, to the elastic band of her thong underwear. I felt the swell of her ass and pulled my hands back up under her shirt to run along her sides and shoulder blades. I was caressing every inch of skin I could touch and my mouth was working her neck. I was anxious to lay her down and make love to her. I didn't want to wait. It's been so long for us. I missed the way she felt all around me. I missed the way she arched her back and met my hips as she came.

I bit down on the skin my tongue hand just lapped over and she hissed, but didn't complain. One of my hands was on the small of her back and the other hand made its way to the front of her body, running beneath her shirt and over her stomach as our mouths collided in a kiss that almost made me crazy enough to rip her pants off and have her right then and there.

I was fairly sure that she wouldn't allow that, even though she was being so intimate now, letting push her bra aside to fondle her breasts. Besides, I was condom-less. Nurse Betty certainly wouldn't be having that, I thought, smiling against her jaw.

"Justin," Sash panted out suddenly, grabbing my wrists to keep my hands from going an further down her body. "We should stop."

"Why?" I whined. She pulled herself away from me even though I tried to hold her.

"Because I'm about to meet your family and I don't want to crawl out of a steamy car, half undressed in front of them. You only get one first impression." She was adjusting her bra the entire time and my focus was halfway on her words and halfway on her body, but I got what she was saying and knew that I wouldn't win this fight.

"I understand," I admitted reluctantly, adjusting my clothing before I realized we were turning up the bumpy ramp to my mansion. That didn't feel like a very long ride, but I guess that Sash was a distraction, to say the least. I sighed as I tried to take down my my erection. Women could front like they weren't turned on two seconds ago, but I had to think about disturbing scenarios in order to get myself back to normal. Sash was quiet for the whole time and I didn't realize my eyes were closed until she spoke and I opened them.

"Whoa..." she breathed, her face up against the tinted window of her side. "These houses are big..."

"Ellen lives there," I pointed out as we drove by her estate.

"Ellen...Degeneres?" she asked slowly and I laughed and nodded.

"The one and only," I said, "She's great people. We have lunch at least three times a month. I see her all the time." Sash nodded in approval and I made a mental note to call Ellen up this week and set something up. It was kind of nice to have a 'normal' girlfriend I could impress with my celebrity connections.

"Does Shia LaBeouf live around here?" Sash asked and my face immediately dropped.

"No." I answered sternly and she turned from the window to laugh in my face.

"Oh, stop it," she smiled, "I'm only joking."

"I highly doubt that," I argued beneath my breath and she turned back to the window in time for me to roll my eyes at myself. I was jealous of a boy she's never met (and will never meet if I have any say in it). I was a mess for sure, but I still made a mental note to kick Shia’s ass if he happened to cross paths with Sash.

"I’m so excited," Sash smiled, turning back to me, "I want to see your room." I raised a brow and smirked.

"I bet you do," I chuckled and she smacked my arm playfully.

"Stop being fresh," she reprimanded, "I just want to see how you live, is what I meant. I’m so used to us being in my crib that I never stopped to think of yours. The change of space should be interesting."

"As long as we’re in a room alone, I don’t care," I sighed, "The one bad thing about my family is that there’s never just a quiet minute. Steven’s probably gonna be on your ass the whole time."

"Who’s that?" Sash asked.

"That’s my little pain in the ass brother – the youngest one," I said, "He’s seven and he doesn’t shut up."

"Runs in the family, I guess," she shot back smartly and I poked her side, making her giggle.

"You’re hilarious," I said sarcastically, "If you think I’m a motor mouth, you wait for Steve." She didn’t seem to heed my warning as she turned back to the window and stared at the passing scenery. I watched her profile and traced the outline of her nose and lashes and lips in my mind. The way they curved and smoothed along were so beautiful to me. I wondered how she could ever question my attraction to her. Did she not look into the mirror everyday?

My family would certainly see what I was talking about as well. She had purposely gotten dolled up, but she would’ve been perfectly fine as is. They would feel the warmth of her spirit in seconds and know that I was lucky to have a woman like her. A self-respecting, loyal, intelligent, and giving woman like her was someone I have never brought home – black, white, Asian, or Latino.

My gut tightened a bit as I thought of Rachel, my cousin. I probably should’ve mentioned Sash’s race to her. She wasn’t racist or anything, but she grew up in the more rural part of the South and was a bit more… traditional than most. She was still adjusting to the way people thought these days, despite her age. I tried to bring her to LA as much as possible, but you can only take the girl out of the country and not the country out of the girl.

She wouldn’t have a problem with Sash and I right now, but if I even thought of anything more serious like marriage or children, the world would come to a stop. She was already uneasy about our relationship because of its lack of stability. She probably blames the differences in our backgrounds for that without knowing the full story… But she’s smart enough not to voice her opinion on it. I would have her on the first plane back to Tennessee if she did anything to upset Sash.

"Oh my…" Sash breathed in amazement while we drove up my gravel driveway, finally reaching our destination as Matt began to slow his pace. "Please don’t tell me you live here."

"Fine, I won’t tell you," I joked as we came to a stop. I reached around her to unlock her door and kissed the back of her neck, as her face remained glued to the glass. "You know… you could get out of the car and see it from the inside." She didn’t respond, but she did peel away from the glass in time for Matt to pull the door open. I had to nudge her to get her to move as she still stared at my mansion like… Well, like she’s never seen it before.

"This is so big!" she exclaimed, her feet crackling against the rocks beneath her. "And beautiful!" My dogs could be heard now, barking and howling at the sound of her unfamiliar voice. Sash turned to glare at me. "What happened to no dogs?"

"You’re gonna have to meet them sometime," I reasoned, "You should just get it over and done with."

"They better not attack me," she frowned, "I don’t even like dogs that much."

"Well, you’ll love my dogs, guaranteed." She didn’t look convinced, but didn’t argue any further. Instead, she ran up to Matt and snatched two of the five bags he was carrying by himself. He went to argue, but I raised my hand.

"You’ll lose," I told him, "Don’t waste your time." He laughed and I rolled my eyes to the heavens as Sash ran up to the front doors, almost bursting with excitement. As I trailed across the lot, I spotted my mother’s car along with Trace’s van. If he brought the van, he brought the rest of the family with him. Everybody was inside and Sash was itching to get inside as I walked up the five steps that led to my door to stand beside her bouncing form.

"Everybody’s home," I warned her, fair and square so I wouldn’t have to hear it later. She adjusted her hair; clothes and gloss before reaching up to wipe my lips with her thumb.

"You can’t walk in there wearing my lip gloss, now can you?" she smirked.

"You ready?" I asked and she nodded, "Okay." I pulled out my key and stuck it in the lock, turning the knob open. My dogs barked more excited than ever and a million pairs of racing feet came towards the door. It was almost like a stampeed. I turned to look at Sash, who had stepped down a few steps at the sound. I just laughed. I was accustomed to being bombarded this way.

"Justin!" An unchanged boy voice shrieked in excitement as the door was yanked open and I tumbled down the stairs, landing roughly on my back and the gravel as a body bolted out the door and into my chest. My head spun and I ached all over. I should've seen that coming. "I beat you up!" I felt small fists clobbering my chest, but I was too worried about my spine to care.

"Steven, what have I told you about tackling your brother like that?" my stepmother reprimanded before the extra weight of his body was pulled from my chest.

"Nice one," I heard Trace cheer on before he appeared above me, his hand reaching out to assist me. "Come on, Gramps." I took his hand and he helped pull me up, dusting me off as I cracked my back.

"Steve, I'm whoopin' your butt later for that," I groaned, rotating my shoulders. Trace took a step back and turned towards the object of my affection.

"You sure you want to be with a man who can't defend himself against child attacks?" he asked Sash, who laughed.

"Shut up," I said, before I charged at his side, knocking the wind out of him as I flipped him over my shoulder and spun him 'round. He groaned when I let him go and he landed on the ground with a thud. "That's what you get for talking all that bull-ish."

"Oooooooh!" Steven gasped and I turned to him as he squirmed in my stepmother's grip on his hand.

"I said 'ish'!" I told him, "I didn't cuss."

"I'm telling anyway!" he threatened and I stuck my tongue out at him.

"Go ahead, but you're not getting a gift from me," I said, "I'll give it to John. He's my favorite anyway." Steven pouted and pretended to be angry as he turned away from me with his nose in the air.

"I don't care," he lied, "I don't like you anyway."

"Fine," I shot back. He stomped his foot down.

"Fine!" he yelled. I laughed and turned to Sash.

"You see how they treat me?" I asked.

"I see how you argue with seven year olds," she smirked before Trace appeared beside her, extending his hand.

"Since Justin doesn't have manners today, I'm Trace and that lovely lady is his stepmother Joy. And that little rugrat glued to her hand is Steven." She shook his hand and smiled brightly.

"I'm Sasheir- Sash. It's nice to meet you." I raised a brow at her correction, but Trace didn't seem to notice.

"It's so good to finally meet you," he said, bringing her hand to his mouth to kiss it. "He didn't do you enough justice. You're far more beautiful than he mentioned." She giggled and I gagged.

"Hands off, midget," I griped, walking over to them, breaking their hands apart and pulling Sash away, "We have the rest of the family to meet." I guided her past Joy and Steven, who tried to kick me, and up the steps. Matt had taken the bags inside and I could hear the chattering of adults inside. My father, Randall, and his throaty laugh was resounding all around the foyer and my stepfather, Paul, was chuckling with him, his laughter a pitch or two higher. The woman's bitter voice was my mother's. She was telling them they were both full of it and could kiss her ass from here to Alabama. Sash laughed and I gave her hand a squeeze as we entered my living room.

The laughter quieted before it turned to silence. Every stood as we came further into the room. My mother and Paul matched, both with cream colored tops and khaki bottoms. My father stood out in blue jeans and red polo. Sash moved a little closer to me and held my hand firmly. Our laced fingers were moisting with the sweat coming from her palm. She was so nervous that I almost began to worry.

"Well, I'm guessin' this is her," my mother spoke, breaking the silence with a wide grin, "Well, don't just stand there all yellow bellied. We don't bite here." Sash didn't move, so my mother walked over towards us. "Justin, I don't know what crap you're telling this girl, but she looks horrified."

"I'm fine," Sash spoke up as I rolled my eyes.

"She's just being nervous, Ma," I complained, "I didn't say nothin'."

"I'm sure," she said sarcastically, turning back to Sash. "It's so nice to meet you, sweetheart. You're adorable." She gave her curls a light tossle before embracing her warmly. Sash didn't let go of my hand as she opted for a one armed hug.

"It's nice to meet you too, Ma'am." I smirked, never once hearing Sash say 'ma'am' before.

"Oh, please call me Lynn, honey. We're all adults here." Sash only nodded as my mother came to me, hugging my side. "She's got manners, I like that." My mother had the annoying habit of talking about people like they weren't in the room when they were standing right next to me.

"She can hear you," I said, causing the two men left in the room to laugh. "Oh, fellas, this is Sash. Sash, the darked haired man is Paul, my stepdad. And the gray old man over there is Randall, my dad." They walked over and shook her hand.

"Justin won't shut up about you," my father revealed, "He kept callin' and callin' tryin' to get us up here to meet ya." I sighed.

"Thanks, Dad," I said sarcastically. Sash gave my hand a squeeze.

"I'm glad he's been telling y'all good things. I just hope he didn't put me too high on a pedestal," she said shyly. I raised our intwined hands to my lips and kissed her knuckles.

"You deserve all the praise you get," I assured her, "But where the hell are my boys?" I asked my family.

"Oh, I let those little monsters out back," my mother groaned, "Damn dog ate my sandwich."

"Did you leave it on the table? You know Brennan gets on the table," I said.

"Well, I told him to stay down. He waited for me to turn my back to get my glass of water!" I laughed.

"Where's Johnathan...and Rach?" I asked, a bit uneasy.

"Out back with the beasts," my mother said, "Go out and introduce her before we eat." I nodded just as Steven, Joy, and Trace came into the room as well.

"Where are y'all headed?" Trace asked. Steven had long broken free of his mother's grasp and sped out to the backyard.

"I'm introducing her to the rest of the family," I said over my shoulder, "You coming with?" He was already following us, the question was answered. Sash nervously walked beside me as we entered my vask kitchen. Her head was moving around to see every angle. The high ceiling, marble island, and wide sliding back doors... You could see my dogs, brother, and cousin running around with the dogs playing fetch along my yard that expanded a couple of feet and led to a pool and a patio to the left and right.

"Those are some big ass dogs," Sash groaned. I looked over at my mutts and smiled.

"They're just big ol' teddy bears," I assured her, sliding open the glass door. My dogs came running towards us, barking and tails wagging. Sash yelped and hid behind me, using me as a sheild to their jumping bodies. I laughed and she shrieked some more. I was trying to hold them down, but they were so excited by her presence. She was unfamiliar and I grabbed Brennan's collar as he became territorial, snapping his jaws at her unknown figure.

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I should've known not to come out here. I told Justin! I told him! They're trying to eat him. He can't even hold them down!

"Brennan!" he yelled at one of the beast while some brunette out of nowhere (God bless her soul) grabbed the other beast and held him down. "Stop it! Stop it now, boy!" Brennan ended the barking, but was still growling. Justin knelt down to him and held his face and collar, staring him straight in the face. "That's Sash. Don't bite her." My eyes widened.

"He bites?" I asked and Justin looked back up at me.

"Everything bites, sweetheart," he smirked, wiggling his eyebrows. I rolled my eyes.

"If that thing bites me I'm going home."

"It's a dog, not a thing," the brunette said, rubbing down her Brian, I assume.

"It's a a hundred pound predator," I shot back at her.

"You don't like animals?" she asked me, smirking a bit as her grip on Brian visibly loosened. The dog was standing as she still sat with her arms hanging over his neck. He was too busy staring me down to notice.

"I'm a cat person," I said. She nodded like it was obvious.

"Well maybe they smell cat on you," she told me and I slapped Justin's back. He was now making baby noses at Brennan and getting his face licked up by him.

"I told you!" I said, "They can smell Bob."

"Your cat's name is Bob?" the brunette asked. I nodded. "Aw, that's cute. You have Brian, and Brennan, and... Bob. All b's." Justin grumbled something as he rolled his eyes and she reached over to push him.

"Shut up," she said, but I missed what was going on. Brian and I were too busy staring each other down. His wet nose and big dark brown eyes were almost black. His tail was wagging and his short mouth, full of razor sharp teeth, was dripping with saliva. It was disgusting, but he was surprisingly cute.

"He's kinda cute," I voiced and Justin glanced up at me and then at Brian. He smiled softly.

"He's awesome," Justin cooed, rubbing his dog's head lovingly, "Both my boys are great. Brennan's just a little grumpy." He baby gurbled to Brennan a little more before standing up. He held Brennan's collar with one hand and dusted his butt off with another. He stood between the dog and I. Brennan was staring at me and I was nervous as fuck. I jumped back when Justin released Brennan's collar and I scurried back as Brennan came forward.

"Justin!" I shrieked, "What are you doing?!" I was going to kill him if this dog bit me. My heart was pounding and I hit the closed sliding doors behind me with a thud.

"Jay, hold 'em, she's terrified," the brunette spoke up, but Justin raised a hand to silence her.

"Relax," he said calmly, watching Brennan approach me. I glanced up at him with wide eyes. Did this man not love me?

"Justin-"

"Calm down, Sash," he said, "He's just trying to figure you out."

"He's trying to find a good spot to bite me," I said, falling silent as Brennan sniffed my leg. I was terrified. I really hated dogs, but I tried to be less expressive about it because Justin obviously loved his pets.

"See, he's just trying to recognize your scent," Justin said knowingly. I nodded a little as Brennan's wet nose moved to my palm. The damn thing was up to my hip on all fours. How did Justin manage to play with two of these things?

"Eww..." I mumbled as Brennan licked my palm and panted, wagging his tail before hopping up against me. I yelped and turned my face, only to have my entire neck, face, and even some shoulder slobbered on by dog tongue. I didn't realize I had an audience until there were some laughs and claps coming from all directions. Justin pulled Brennan down and tossed a tennis ball across his yard. Both dogs charged after it as I wiped my face off with my hands. I smelt like Kibbles and Bits.

"See!" Justin said cheerfully, helping dry me off with the end of his shirt, "He loves you!" I pouted at him.

"I'm covered in spit," I moaned and there was some laughter again. I didn't see what was funny about being covered in dog saliva, but if you say so.

"But he loves you..." Justin pressed on, smiling down at me, "But you can wash upstairs. I need to change anyway." I nodded and he took my hand, guiding me around his entire family, who gathered out back to watch my embarassing display. They were chasing the dogs and fooling around as we entered the now empty house.

"That was disgusting," I complained, the moment we were alone, "Bob licks me every now and then, but Jesus!" Justin laughed as we walked through his living room.

"Well, big dogs, big tongues, I guess," he said, "Sorry though. It was a good thing that he licked you. I was worried for a minute." I shot him a look.

"You thought he was going to kill me, didn't you?"

"No," he laughed, "Bite you, maybe, but not kill." I punched his arm and he groaned and laughed at the same time.

"It's not funny!" I whined, "I could've died."

"You're so dramatic," he sighed as we took the stairs, "It wouldn't have been that big of a deal. They bite me sometimes. It's nothing serious."

"Says you," I mumbled, "I want to shower."

"You have to do a quick rub down," I said, "We're going out to lunch. We're already running late." I rolled my eyes.

"Fine," I said, "But I'm taking a bath once we get back in." We were walking down a long hallway that lead to a different section of the house. There was a double wooden door at the end of a shorter hall we were walking towards. Justin gave my hand a squeeze.

"I'll take one with you," he smirked, "I have a jacuzzi."

"I've never been in one of those before," I said, waiting as he pulled open one of the doors. He allowed me to walk through and I gasped as we entered the space.

"It's just my room," he said and I was in awe. His room was the size of my entire house. I ran over to the open door by his king sized bed. The linen curtains blew in the wind as I haulted my walking at the balcony.

"You have a freakin' balcony!" I huffed, taking in the view from the top. Los Angeles looked so small from here.

"I love staring out here. It's nice to think while you're looking at the sunset," Justin said, coming up behind me. He hugged my waist and pressed himself against my back. My shivered at the contact and hugged his arms around me.

"It's so beautiful," I said, leaning back into him as he rested his head on my shoulder.

"Imagine this every morning," he told me softly, "That would be real nice, right?" I nodded against him.

"I can't even imagine this being everyday life," I laughed, "I feel like I'm in a five star hotel or something." Justin chuckled and he vibrated against my back.

"Well, it can be every day..." he mumbled, "That's up to you." I sighed and looked down at his arms around me and mines around his. I thought about the sunset and the warm wind against my skin in the late evenings in May. I could practically see the purples and reds and oranges and pinks of the sky. I could imagine being out here after making love to him, feeling his flesh flush against me... Hell, I wanted to make the love out here with the sky watching.

"It's too soon to be thinking about all that," I said, pulling away from him. I turned and faced him. He was pouting. "We haven't even eaten yet, Justin."

"I know, I know," he said, taking my hand and leading me back inside. "I'm just getting my hopes up."

"You don't know that," I said softly behind him. He didn't respond. He kept leading the way to double white doors. He pulled them both open this time, letting go of my hand to do so. A purely white and silver bathroom was revealed and once again I was in awe. His house was ridiculous. I wanted to live in his bathroom.

"You can wash up real fast in here," Justin said, walking inside. He stooded at an amour and pulled a door open. He pulled out a white towel and handed it to me before grabbing a white washcloth. "The sink's right around here." A bathroom shouldn't have corners, but I realized that the shower was on one end of the room and the jacuzzi was in another. There were two sinks and a wide space of mirrors behind them. The circular lights surrounding the perimeter of them were modern shaped. It reminded me of IKEA.

"This is so nice," I told him as I slowly walked over to the sink. He hit a switch on the wall, lighting up the mirrors.

"I'm gonna be out here changing," he said, "I'll leave the doors open. Holler if you need me." I nodded as he walked away, still staring at all of my surroundings. Everything was in neat order and I was sure Justin was the culprit. The boy had some type of OCD, I swear. I smiled to my reflection, imagining myself in here everyday. I wondered how I could ever get bored of it. I wondered if it would become as normal as walking through the crapshack house I have now.

"Doubtable," I said to myself, wetting the washcloth and soaping up. I scrubbed for a minute and rinsed off before drying my face. I washed my hands and arms and fixed my curls with a fluff here and there. Once I thought I was presentable, I exited the bathroom, towels in hand.

"You done?" Justin asked, having changed his pants into tan cargos. He was currently shirtless as he dug through one of his drawers. I licked my lips as I watched his muscle move his movements.

"Yeah," I said, "Where do I put the towels?" Damn he was sexy, I thought as he lifted his head to look at me.

"There was a hamper by the amour," he said, "You can toss it in there." I did as told, trying to control my libido before I came back. It wasn't necessary. Justin had found a white t-shirt and threw it on in the two seconds I was gone. I was serverely disappointed.

"Ready?" I asked him and he nodded, slipping on some Adidas slides and grabbing his keys from his bureau. We headed back down the halls and stairs, chatting aimlessly about the plans for the day. There was a late lunch, movies, dinner, and crashing at the house, talking and having dessert.

"Sounds good to me," I said as we came into the living room.

"Cool," Justin said, "I'm gonna go gather everybody." I nodded as he ran off towards the kitchen. I stood alone in his living area. A grand piano was in the far corner of the room and I imagined Justin entertaining guest. I imagined being in the quiet of this house when he was gone. It seemed too big a space to stay here alone and I wondered if Justin ever got lonely himself...

"Shut up!" I heard Trace groan as a crowd of voices and feet interrupted the quiet space I was in. There was bickering and laughing going on. Justin came jogging from behind the crowd to reach my side.

"Mama and the Paulster ride with me and Sash," he announced, "Daddy, are you driving?" Randall nodded.

"I'm navigating the van," he said, "I've got everybody else." That was settled fast and we headed out to the parking lot. Justin had a million cars out front and I wondered how I missed them before.

"Which one's yours?" I asked and his mother laughed.

"All of them," she answered, rolling her eyes, "It's ridiculous, I know." I looked at Justin like he was crazy and he shrugged.

"I've got the Cadillac and the Mercedes on this key chain, so whichever." Lynn rolled her eyes again and snatched the keys from his hands.

"Quit showing off," she groaned, "Geez, you'd think you didn't love him already." Justin was red and glaring at his mother when I looked up at him.

"I wasn't showing off..." he argued weakly. His mother ignored him and walked towards a white Mercedes parked two cars away from where we were standing.

"Y'all coming or not?" she said over her shoulder and we all moved at once. Justin took my hand and mumbled something under his breath. I gave his hand a squeeze.

"You don't have to show off," I said to him and he gave me the side eye.

"I wasn't," he complained, "I was just giving you options."

"I don't care what car I'm in as long as you're riding with me," I told him before he kissed my forehead. He held the door for me as I slid into the back seat before playfully pushing me aside to sit next to me. Apparently Lynn was driving with Paul riding shot gun. She jetted off as quickly as Justin would've and as he slung his arm over my shoulder, I looked between them and saw the resemblance was uncanny. They even had the same serious demeanor as they drove.

I smirked, imagining this being a regular thing. Lunch on a sunny afternoon in LA with my famous boyfriend and his family. It seemed so normal in the car though. Paul and Lynn held hands as they drove and chatted randomly. The music was softly playing in the background as I rested comfortably against Justin. He didn't feel famous. He didn't seem so beyond me that I didn't want to try... We felt like any other couple and it shocked me. I didn't know what I was expecting, but it didn't seem like it could ever be normal like this.

"I hate the valet parking here," Lynn grimaced as we slowed. I didn't even realize we pulled into a parking area. I glanced out the back window and saw the van behind us, full of Justin's family. Johnathan, I assume that was him, was in the passanger seat, turned around and yelling at who I was assuming was Steven. I smirked a little before Justin slid over and opened the door. He reached for my hand and guided me out the car.

"Don't freak out," he mumbled quickly, putting a pair of sunglasses in my hand out of nowhere.

"What are these for?" I asked and he smiled down at me, taking them from my hand to place them on my face.

"You said the flash blinded you, right?" he asked.

"Yeah, but-"

"Didn't I tell you they were everywhere?" he said, taking my shoulders and turning me around. I gasped a little at the chaos across the street. There were so many men with cameras. People couldn't even get up the stairs to the restaurant they were horded around.

"We're not going there, are we?" I asked dumbly, knowing the answer.

"Just keep your head down and never answer their questions," he reminded. "And don't let go of my hand."

"We can't just get Mickey D's or something?" I teased and he laughed.

"The Ivy has the best food," he told me, "It's worth a couple pictures." I rolled my eyes, highly doubting that.

"Whatever you say," I told him, taking a firm grip on his hand. "Don't let go of me." I warned and he smiled down at me.

"Trust me, I won't."

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We ended up going to the park instead of the movies before stuffing our faces at Roscoe's Chicken and Waffles. Once we got inside, the kids were pooped and the adults were ready for bed as well. Justin and I had said our goodnights to everybody and were settling into his room. We both showered and I slipped on a silk nightie as he brushed in the bathroom. I was fidgeting in the center of his massive bed, unsure of what to do. All I could think about was our little make out session. We didn't get a moment alone after that and it didn't cross my mind all day, but now... Alone and separated from the rest of the house in his little wing of the mansion... It was all I could think about.

But I didn't know whether or not it was a good idea to have sex within this trial period. I already knew the sex was good. The point of this week was to test drive the celebrity half of his life, not to get laid. I frowned. It would be fine if we did anyway... We were technically together anyway.

"What's with that face?" Justin laughed as he came out of the bathroom, shutting the light behind him. The lamps adjacent to either side of his bed were illuminating the room in a dim, orange glow. He was just wearing boxers and his skin looked so smooth in the warm light. My eyes were scanning over his body and I didn't realize I was gawking until he stopped at the foot of his and rested his hand on his stomach.

I blinked and looked away, feeling embarassed when I looked up and saw his smirking face. "Umm...I had fun today."

"Sure," he said simply, completely disinterested. "You don't have to just look... You can touch if you want." I glanced up at him and cleared my throat.

"Pardon me?" I said, freigning innocence. Justin just smiled and walked to the left side of the bed. I scooted over a bit as he slipped under his sheets.

"Don't play dumb with me, woman," he said softly to me, violating my space by lining up flesh against my side. He curved my face towards his by running his thumb along my jaw. His nose brushed mine as his hand smoothed down my arm and to my hand, lifting it from my lap and placing it on his stomach. I shivered as the warmth of his skin warmed my palm.

"Justin..." I sighed, staring at his eyes in the poorly lit room. They looked so dark. His pupil was almost gone. He leaned into my lips, brushing his mouth on top of mine.

"Don't say you don't want to," he told me, "Just do what feels natural, Sash." The mint of his breath tickled my nose before I felt his hand sliding up my thigh. I trembled as he bit my bottom lip and I opened my legs to him. I was already wet when his fingers lightly skimmed over my sensitive flesh, making me thankful for skipping out on underwear. He moved his fingers against me with more force as he kissed me slowly. I reached beneath the sheets and slipped his fingers deep into me with my own hand. I moaned into the kiss while he moved his fingers slow and deep, curving them upward. I broke the kiss to gasp for air, not prepared for how good he'd feel.

He was kissing my neck, breathing hard enough to match my own breath. I was so heated that I was blinded by it. I couldn't see where I was anymore. I felt his skin and his hair and his breathing. I smelled his soapy skin mixing with the scent of me in the air. As I felt my stomach knot up, my moans grew louder. Justin tossed the sheets aside and found my mouth again, not stopping the slow and steady rhythm of his moving fingers. I grabbed his shoulder and gripped the pillow behind me, biting my lip before I came, moaning out his name as I rocked my hips into his hand. I kept my eyes closed as his wet mouth ran over my collar bones and neck and ears... I was trying to catch my breath, but Justin found my mouth, taking what little air I had right out of me with his kiss.

I broke the kiss to breathe and he chuckled into my ear before softly kissing the spot behind it. I sighed and pulled him closer to me by hooking my leg around his waist.

"What are you laughing at?" I asked softly, my hands smoothing over his curls as he pulled back from the crook of my neck to look me in the eyes.

"I just..." he chuckled again and I found myself smiling even though I didn't get the joke. "I'm sorry, it's not even funny."

"Well, it must be funny," I said, running my fingers from the small of his back to the back of his neck, "You're laughing."

"I don't know..." he trailed off, brushing our noses, "Don't worry about it." He went to kiss me and I playfully held him back.

"I hate it when people do that," I told him.

"What?" he asked, looking terribly upset when I kept his hands from running down my legs.

"Start saying something and then stop," I told him, pushing myself upward and forcing him back. I flipped us over, now straddling his waist. My nightie was bunched up at my waist and his hands were on my bare hips.

"It wasn't important..." he mumbled off, running his hands up my body, taking my nightie with him. I assisted him in getting it off my head before tossing it onto the floor. The air of the room was a bit chilly as I sat on his stomach, naked and self-conscious as his eyes ran over me.

"I still want to know," I said, trying to distract myself from his staring. He placed his warm palm on my cheek and slowly dragged it down the center of my body. Over my neck, the valley of my breasts, my stomach... Stopping right below my navel.

"You're so beautiful," he told me softly and I shyly looked down at his body. I admired his pecks and six pack.

"You're the gorgeous one," I told him, "I'm a'ight," I joked, sliding myself down his stomach and onto his boxer covered erection. I moaned when he pressed against my bare wetness and Justin grunted a bit.

"And you're sexy," he told me. I started a small grind against him, placing my hands on his chest to steady myself as I leaned down to kiss him. I loved that I could please him, but I could never understand why, so I didn't want to hear anymore compliments. I kissed my way down his neck and chest, lapping my tongue along his pecs before moving down to his six pack abs. I kissed him below the navel as I kneeled between his legs. When I glanced up at him, he was looking at me in anticipation.

I tucked my fingers into the band of his boxers and he lifted his hips as I pulled them down. I tossed those to the side and gripped his shaft in one of my hands. His breathing hitched as I rotated my wrist and moved him up and down. He was hard and warm and sighing softly. I was never really a fan of giving head, but I loved the way it made me feel with him. Angel was always quiet, like most guys, but Justin was a bit more expressive. It turned me on to hear him liking what I did. It made me feel powerful to have that much control over him. I always felt like he was skilled beyond me (and he was) but whenever I was down on him... I felt equal in the bedroom. I felt like he couldn't get enough of me. It made me feel less self-conscious because he let me know it felt good.

"Fuck..." he hissed as I twisted my tongue around the head of his erection before taking him into my mouth. I was still rotating my hand around his shaft as my mouth worked the tip. He was holding my hair our of my face and I glanced up at him for a moment to watch him watch me. He looked like it was his first time and I would've laughed at his wide, wonderous eyes if it wasn't so sexy. I knew my curls were pretty much done for when he gripped my hair in a messier bundle while I lightly ran my teeth along him as I pulled back for air.

I leaned back down towards him, but a hand rested beneath my chin and pulled me upward. He sat up and brought my face to his, kissing me roughly as I continued to jerk him between us. He moaned and broke the kiss as he leaned his forehead against mine. I kissed his mouth again before leaning down and taking him into my mouth. He fell back against the bed and held my hair in two fistfuls. I could taste his pre-cum against the back of my throat and it made me anxious to make him come this way...

Until there was a knock on the door.

"No, no, no," Justin panted, trying to hold me back as I pulled away completely and grabbed the sheet from the other side of the bed. I wrapped myself in it as the door was knocked on again.

"I'm not giving you head when someone's banging on the door," I told him softly, "Go see who it is."

"I can't," he said, pointing down at his erected self, "My dick will answer the door before I do."

I rolled my eyes, but laughed at his annoyed expression. He snatched the sheet from my body and huffed as he climbed out of bed. He wrapped the sheet around before bending over and grabbing my discarded nightie and his boxers. He tossed the nightie in my direction and I caught it, pulling it over myself. The door knocked again and Justin headed towards the bathroom. I made a face and he waved me towards the door.

"Why do I have to do it?" I mumbled as he shut the door behind him and disappeared. I checked my reflection in the mirror, fluffing up what was left of my curls before sighing. I could still feel how wet I was and it was an uncomfortable feeling to open the door like that. I only felt more uncomfortable when Steven walked into the room, brushing right past me.

"Where's Justin?" he asked as I shut the door.

"He had to use the bathroom," I said, "What's up? You okay?" He shrugged and sniffled the air.

"It seems funny in here," he complained.

"Well, boys smell funny," I said and he crossed his arms.

"We don't!" he argued and I shushed him.

"Sheesh, I was joking," I told him, "Why aren't you in bed?"

"I was," he said, "But I don't wanna sleep in there. I wanna sleep with my brother." You and I both, kid. I thought as I walked a little closer to him.

"Well, what's wrong with your bed?"

"Nothin'," he said, "I just don't like sleeping in there. It's too dark."

"Are you scared of the dark?" I asked and he immediately became defensive.

"I ain't scared of nothin'!" he told me defiantly, "I don't care about no dark!" I raised my hands up in surrender.

"Okay, it was just a question," I said before the bathroom door opened and Justin came out, looking annoyed, but relieved. He was wearing his boxers, erection free and I fought the smile on my face when he rolled his eyes at the sight of Steven.

"Steve, what are you doing up?" he asked as Steven shrugged, looking down at his feet.

"I dunno..." he mumbled and I was amazed by the fact that Justin intimidated him.

"What do you mean you don't know?" Justin asked, walking up to him before kneeling to his level. He ruffled his hair and Steven playfully pushed his hand away. "What's wrong?" Steven shrugged and Justin tilted his head with a disbelieving look.

"I dunno..." Steven mumbled before he slowly glanced back at me then back at Justin. "I don't want to say it." Justin smiled softly at me as he stood.

"Sorry, baby, but this is man talk. Can you step out into the hall please?" He gave me a wink and I smiled at him before nodding.

"I understand," I said, turning to walk out into the hall. I opened the door and stepped out into the dark. It took all of five minutes for the bedroom to open up again. Justin stepped out into the hall, leaving the door open a crack before taking my hand and leading me a few feet away.

"He wet the bed," Justin sighed and I raised a brow.

"Oh," I said, "That's why..."

"Yeah," he told me, "He's a bit embarassed, but he's always had this problem. He's getting better at getting up, but he made a mistake tonight because he was too scared to get up in the dark. Johnathan helped him clean up, but was pickin' on him real bad... He wants to sleep with me tonight." I nodded.

"Okay, that's understandable," I said, "Where do I sleep?"

"What do you mean? You're sleeping with us."

"Oh, I just thought you two were bonding or something..." I mumbled and he brushed my cheek.

"You're sweet for caring, but Steve's fine with it. It's the first thing I asked." he informed me before taking my hand again.

"So I'm guessing I don't know anything about what happened?" I asked.

"Yeah, you have to take this one to the grave," he laughed, "Steve would kill me if he knew I told you." We reached the bedroom again and Steven had already made himself comfortable in the center of the bed. Justin and I let go of each other and walked to opposite sides of the bed. Steven watched me the entire way.

"Sorry for being mean," he apologized once I settled in next to him and I smiled softly.

"It's okay, Steve," I said, "Just try and sleep." He nodded, turning his back to me and curling into the fetal position. Justin leaned over him to kiss me gently.

"Ew," Steven groaned before Justin poked his side, making him giggle.

"Shut up," he playfully scolded before lying down. I reached over and turned off the lamps, leaving just moonlight to illuminate the space. Justin was facing my direction and I was facing his. He rolled his eyes when Steven started snoring. I stiffled a laugh.

"He's lucky I love him," he whispered.

"You're a really good brother," I whispered back.

"Thanks," he whispered again, "He's a pain in the ass, but he's a good kid."

"Runs in the family, I guess," I teased softly. Justin reached around Steven to poke my side as well. I giggled like a school girl and Steven snorted and shifted his sleeping position. Justin shook his head at me.

"You're always making noise," he playfully scolded. I scoffed and pretended to be offended.

"Goodnight, jerkoff," I whispered, smiling to myself as he glared at me.

"You won't be talking shit tomorrow night," he whispered back. I glanced down at Steven and back at him.

"Will there be a tomorrow night?" I asked and he sighed as he glared at Steve's sleeping form.

"There better be..." he mumbled and I leaned over Steve slowly and kissed his mouth gently. He held the back of my neck as I tried to pull away and kissed me a moment longer before finally letting me go.

"I love you, stop glaring at your little brother, and get some sleep," I said softly as I laid back down in my spot again. "There will be a tomorrow night. Your home is massive. We'll find a place."

"I guess you're right," he said sadly, "And I love you."

"Thank you," I said, "Time for bed." He nodded and closed his eyes with a sigh, trying to get comfortable. I flipped onto my stomach tucked my arms beneath the pillows, giving me some leverage as I turned and face the wall instead of Justin. My eyes started to droop as I lazily stretched my arm along the length of the bed, still just an inch away from the edge. Even with three people, his mattress was neverending. I was so used to my full bed at home that this was just amazing to me...

Everything here was amazing to me. This mansion, his family... Even the paps intrigued me. Justin said to never speak to them, but I often found myself ready to ask them if taking pictures was all that they did for a living. I wanted to ask why they cared so much about Justin eating lunch or anybody eating lunch. It was honestly ridiculous... But he held my hand, literally, through it all. Not once did he let our fingers slip. There was no embarassment on his face when they asked if I was his new girlfriend. He'd smile and give my hand a squeeze as we breezed past them.

I bit my bottom lip, trying to fight the smile on my face as I laid down in the dark and remembered. My heart was swelling as I realized that having this everyday wouldn't be so bad. Justin's family was kind and even his dogs liked me. He wasn't opposed to getting an apartment in Philly... He had enough space in his mansion should I somewhere down the line have to live here. He loved me and I loved him...What the hell was I so scared of? It seemed silly now, being so horrified by the idea of his celebrity life. I would have Justin and there was nothing more important than that.

I yawned and stretched the next morning before rolling over. My eyes were barely opened, but the sun burned like a motherfucker as it shrone in from the balcony. The white flowy curtains were brilliant and there was no sound at all in the house. I blinked a few times, smacking my mouth and rubbing my stomach as I stretched my legs and arms and obnoxiously yawned again. I slept well, very well, and it only made me feel more tired.

I turned my head to the right of me and looked at empty and wrinkled bed stretched out beside me. Justin and Steven were both gone and it made me sad. I was immediately curious about them. I wondered where they went and why they didn't wake me and it inspired me to sit up. I glanced at the alarm clock on the nightstand beside me and it read 12:34PM. Not too bad. I wondered if his entire family were awake already? Did they think I was some lazy bum, sleeping in late?

My paranoia caused me to get up and run into the bathroom to shower. I washed up good and brushed before messing around with my curls (which surprisely didn't look so bad after all). I decided to dress in some brown shorts and a white tank, tossing on a brown, orange, and amber beaded necklace with matching earrings. My flip flops, which I dug from deep within my luggage, were brown as well. I crept out into the hall, hearing some light chatter coming from downstairs. The television could be heard as well and it sounded like SpongeBob. I smiled, flashing back to Justin in my ridiculous slippers on that cold day back in December...

As I neared the stairs, I could see Justin's father and stepfather, along with Steven and Johnathan, sitting around in Justin's sofa's, watching what was clearly SpongeBob on his Plasma television. They all glanced up in my direction as I descended the stairs.

"Good afternoon, Sleepy Head," Randall teased and I sheepishly bowed my head.

"I don't usually sleep in that late," I mumbled, "I guess the flight over here wore me out."

"You don't have to explain yourself," Paul chimmed in, "This old fart has nothing better to do than bother you. Just don't pay him any mind." They both laughed heartily and I giggled.

"Did you guys eat yet?" I asked, "I'm heading towards the kitchen if you want anything."

"We're fine," Paul answered for them both, gesturing toward the coffee table where two cups sat neatly on coasters, "We got some drinks. Lynn left you a plate though. It's covered on the kitchen table."

"Oh," I said, surprised, "Okay, thanks." He nodded and I made my way towards the kitchen, hesitating at the entrance when I spotted Rachel at the open refridgerator door. She was wearing baggy sweat pants and a tank top with her brunette hair pulled up in a messy bun. She was too busy scanning the fridge to acknowledge me as I walked in, taking notice of the plate covered in plastic wrap, sitting in the center of Justin's white table.

"I was ten seconds away from eating that," she voiced suddenly as I was halfway to the table.

"I didn't even know it was here until Paul told me," I revealed and she groaned, severely disappointed.

"He's always ruining things for me," she vented, shutting the fridge with another frustrated groan. I smiled to myself, taking my plate over to the microwave set up on the other side of the kitchen. I placed my plate inside and pressed three minutes into the timer and it started automatically.

"Have you seen Justin?" I asked her as silence engulfed the room. I turned to find her at the kitchen table, sitting down and facing me. She had a family size box of POPS cereal in front of her, but no bowl.

"He went for his run," she said, rolling her eyes before she grabbing the box and placed it on her lap. Two seconds later she was tossing handfuls into her mouth.

"Oh," I said, giving a small nod, "I keep forgetting he's big on exercise. Even when he was barely able to walk around, he was doing little things around my house just so he could move around." She didn't seem all that interested as she continued to look at me and pop cereal into her mouth. I fiddled with my necklace.

"You're a nurse, right?" she asked me, breaking the silence with a random question.

"Yeah," I said, "At Temple University."

"Hmm..." she mumbled thoughtfully, "Is that how you met Justin?"

"Um, kinda," I smirked, "I was coming from work when I found him out in the street. He was pretty messed up."

"Why are you smiling?" she asked, "Justin being messed up isn't funny." My small smirk flattered immediately and I felt the coldness of her tone.

"I wasn't laughing at that," I explained, feeling myself getting defensive. "I was just remembering how scared I was when I saw him and now I see how ridiculous it was for me to fear Justin. I thought he was some type of evil being or something." More silence. Crunch, crunch, crunch. She chewed with her mouth a little too open.

"I don't get it, but if you say so," she finally voiced. I took a deep breath.

"That's fine," I said, 'I guess you had to be there." The hum of the microwave wasn't helping the irritating noise of her crunch, crunch, crunch.

"Do you love him?" she asked as I haulted my actions momentarily. The fork in my hand dropped on the floor, snapping me out my daze as I knelt down to retrieve it. I went over to the sink and rinsed it with soapy sponge by the wall and steaming hot water. "Do you?" Rachel pressed on as I made my way back to the microwave just as it sounded off.

"Yes," I said, retrieving my plate and taking a seat across from her. I tried to distract myself with my food, uncovering it and taking a whiff of the sausage, hash browns, cheese eggs, and bacon Lynn had made for me. It all looked too good. I suddenly longed for the Saturday mornings my mother cooked for us. She worked two jobs after my drunk of a father got kicked out. I was only six at the time, but I could still remember that day. My mother worked her ass off to support us and made sure that every Saturday we had a meal together. I had almost forgotten that. Since I moved out, the Saturday breakfast routine had been cut out and I made myself breakfast, lunch, and dinner everyday now.

"Why'd you hesitate to answer me?" Rachel asked, breaking into my thoughts again as I forked some hash browns into my mouth. The salty starchy taste was wonderful against my tongue. I wondered why I never made these.

"I wasn't expecting you to ask that kind of question."

"What kind of question?" she continued, "It was a simple yes or no question."

"You were asking if I loved him," I said, "It just seemed like a really random question."

"I was just curious to know," she explained quietly as I bit into a piece of sausage.

"What?" I asked, "Why?" She shrugged and made a noise.

"Just curious," she told me, "He said you guys were together, but he didn't mention love - not to me anyway."

I shrugged. "We're just trying to figure ourselves out."

"What do you mean?" she asked and I shrugged again.

"I dunno," I told her, "We're just trying to live our lives together and see what happens. I'm a little nervous about the whole celebrity thing."

"What's there to be nervous about?" she asked me and I shrugged yet again.

"I just don't know what to expect from it," I said, "He has a crazy career that comes with a lot of strings attached and I don't want us to be hit with something I don't know how to deal with, ya know?"

"Yeah, I get it," she said, "But I can tell you right now - it's really hard. I mean, it's hard to be his family member, let alone his girlfriend. We miss him like crazy when he's gone for months at a time. He even misses Christmases and Thanksgivings. I remember last year he didn't even call me on my birthday. That wasn't the first time, but I actually had to remind him a week later that it passed. He said he totally forgot, but I just shrugged it off. You get used to be being on the backburners after a while, I guess." I frowned, letting Rachel's words get to me.

"Well, I know it won't be easy, so I'm a bit hesitant about the whole thing," I confessed. "Why did you have to ask if we're in love anyway? Don't we look in love?"

"You look in lust, yes," she giggled and I looked up from my plate.

"What does that mean?" She shrugged.

"You guys are obviously physically attracted to each other. Y'all are always holdin' hands," she explained, "But ... I dunno. Justin was telling me y'all were havin' trouble keeping things together..."

"That doesn't mean we don't love each other," I softly argued, "We're just...adjusting. There was a lot going on when him and I...caught feelings for each other."

"You mean he was in a committed relationship?" she inserted and if my ears served me right, she sounded a little bitter about it.

"It wasn't that committed if she stepped out on him," I said, "I'm not a homewrecker if that's what you're implying."

"I didn't imply anything," she told, popping more cereal into her mouth, "I liked Jessica, is all. Yeah, she messed up, but she loves my cousin. You should've seen how messed up she was when he broke up with her."

"I'm sure she was as devestated as he was when she cheated," I said, "Actually, no, she wasn't. At least he was honest enough to tell his feelings were changing."

"Yeah, after he started a life with you," she snapped, slamming the cereal box on the top of the table. I put down my fork and slowly chewed the egg in my mouth, "Jessica is a good friend of mine. Her and Justin were fine and yeah, they hit a rough patch with the baby dying and all, but they would've made it if you hadn't taken advantage of him the way you did."

"Take advantage!" I scoffed at the absurdity, "I'm sorry that I don't google Justin's love life, but I didn't know he was with her. I didn't force myself onto him either. If anything, he went after me. You might want to get your facts straight before you start accusing people -"

"No, you might want to get your facts straight before you start spreadin' 'em to taken men!" I gasped, pushing myself away from the table to stand up.

"I know you didn't just say that," I clenched my jaw and balled my fists up at my sides. She had stood up as well, giving me the same menacing look that I was sure enough giving to her.

"Why are you so mad, Sash?" she mocked, "It makes you look as guilty as you are."

"I don't know what the fuck your problem is, woman, but you better watch the way you talk to strangers," I warned, "Justin's family or not, I will kick your ass if necessary. Do not test me."

"Oh, I'm shaking in my sweatpants," she said sarcastically before she grabbed her POPS, never taking her eyes off of me. "You try and act like you're innocent, but I know what game you're running. Justin might be blind to it, but he'll see that you're just after what he's got and not what he's really worth."

"I'm not a homewrecker and I, for damn sure, am not a gold digger," I said through gritted teeth, "You'd know that if you knew the first thing about me."

"Whatever," she huffed, slamming her chair back under the table, "You won't be around much longer for me to 'know' you. If this family doesn't approve of you, you're out the door anyway. I wonder what he'll do if his favorite cousin tells him she doesn't approve..." She smiled to herself and it took everything in me not to knock all her teeth out. I still held my fists as she turned to walk out of the kitchen with a smug look on her face. I closed my eyes and counted to 100, trying to calm down, but my fists were still balled up and longed for a face to hit.

"What the hell are you doing?" I snapped my eyes open and Justin stood before me, smiling and sweating. The dogs were barking at the back doors and Trace could be heard with them. All the noise came at me at once as I unclenched my fists. I tried to relax my shoulders as I sighed. "Hello? Earth to Sash?" Justin waved his hands in my face and I grabbed them to hold them down, but ended up lacing my fingers through them.

"Why are you sweating?" I asked, staring at his chest as beads dripped down his neck and disappeared into the fabric of his wife beater.

"Why are you standing in the middle of the kitchen, mad as shit, for no reason?" he countered, unlacing one of his hands to run it through my curls. I relaxed more as his hand cupped my cheek. I looked at him and rolled my eyes.

"My answer is longer, so tell me why you're sweating first." He made a noise of disapproval.

"I went for a run with the dogs and Trace," he answered, "What's wrong with you?" He was now concerned and holding my hand tighter like I was going to turn around and run off. A part of me wanted to as Rachel's stupid words replayed in my head.

I wondered if she really was his favorite cousin or if she made it up to scare me. "How close are you and Rachel?" I asked and he furrowed his brows before shrugging.

"We're close," he answered, to my disappointment, "Why?"

"How close is close?" I tried again and he moved his hands from me completely to throw them up in the air in frustration.

"What does this how to do with anything?" he agonized melodramatically, "I hate it when you don't just tell me what's wrong."

"And I hate it when you don't answer my simple questions first," I groaned, "How close is close?" He rolled his eyes to the Heavens before placing them back on me.

"We tell each other a lot. She's not Trace or my mom, but she's probably next in line," he said, "She's my favorite cousin." My heart fell to my stomach before I bit down hard on my bottom lip to keep from screaming.

"Well, your cousin hates me," I gushed out, no longer feeling the need to bullshit, "We got into an argument and she pissed me off, so I might've threatened to beat her ass, but I didn't touch her...So there it is. She hates me and I hate her, so I guess this is where you kick me to the side, according to her bitch ass-"

"What did she say to you?" Justin interrupted calmer than I was expecting and even more shocking, he asked what she said to me. It almost sounded like he expected some drama.

"She basically said I was a gold digging homewrecker," I told him, trying not to get angry, "I apparently took advantage of your fragile state and forced myself onto you before I got on my back and 'spread 'em'." I rolled my eyes and shook my head. "I still want to kick her ass."

"Is that all?" Justin asked and I scoffed.

"Is that all?" I groaned, "Justin, did you hear me? I'm a homewrecker! And a gold digging one at that!" He waved me off.

"She's Jessica's best friend or something," he explained, "She gets really defensive about her. She thinks you stole me away or something. I guess you did, but not the way she sees it as. Rachel's stubborn and doesn't want to accept that I just moved on. She wanted Jess and I to be together forever. She was more excited for the baby than we were..." He sighed, trailing off a bit at the mention of his unborn child. He didn't flinch when he used Jessica's name, but the baby that could've been was a wound that his love for me couldn't heal.

"I didn't know that," I said, breaking into the silence, "I wish you had warned me."

"I didn't think she'd say something to you," he told me, taking my hand again, "I'll talk to her though. I'm glad you didn't beat her up. Rachel thinks she's tougher than she is sometimes. Maybe you should've kicked her ass to teach her a lesson."

"I'm down for that," I quickly volunteered, making him laugh beside me.

"She probably likes you and is just fighting the feeling," he comforted as he began to walk out to the yard, dragging me along unwillingly, "She's like Brian and Brennan yesterday. She's trying to figure you out. See if you're serious about me or not. She's protecting me in a weird way." I rolled my eyes, not believing that somebody as mean as her could care about anybody's feelings or well being.

"I guess," I mumbled, "But I still don't like her." Justin laughed an opened up the sliding doors. Brian and Brennan came running and I took my usually hiding spot behind Justin as they leapt on the both of us, panting, barking, and licking... It was disgusting.

"Now I have to shower again," I whined, looking at the dirt paw prints all over me, not to mention the saliva.

"Well, I have to shower too," Justin smiled at me as he paused to watch Trace run up the yard with the dogs chasing him playfully, "I guess we can finish what we started then, huh?" He winked for emphasis and I smiled as I pretended to think it through.

"I dunno..." I teased, "Let me get back to you on that one."

"Oh, you have to check your vacation schedule?" Justin asked, walking towards me as I nodded, "So you have to schedule me into the vacation I took you on?" I backed away from him as he neared and he broke out into a sprint. I was glad that I predicted this because I jetted off in time for him to miss me by an inch. I giggled and shrieked as he ran after me. Brian and Brennan came running too with Trace not too far behind.

I thought I was winning when I looped and made a sudden u-turn, 'causing him to skid to a stop. I laughed and triumphantly headed towards the safety of the sliding doors, but Justin came out of nowhere and grabbed my waist, actually picking me up to spin me around before we went tumbling into his plush grass. His dogs bombarded us half a second later, jumping and barking all around as we laughed, covered in grass stains. Trace stopped running a few feet back, whistling at Brennan and Brian as he waved around an orange ball. They charged and he tossed it as hard as he could muster. They sped after it as Trace ran behind them away from us.

I tried to catch my breath as Justin pinned me to the ground. He rested his heaving chest against mine to gently kiss my mouth.

"You are a lot faster than I thought," he laughed, pulling back to give us both air.

"You should know better than to underestimate me," I said through a heavy sigh, "But I'm never going to be able to run again. I'm getting too old for that." We both laughed as I sat up and Justin rested back against his legs. In the mist of my immaturity, I tackled his unsuspecting form and straddled his waist the moment his back hit the grass behind him. He groaned and I laughed, pinning his hands above his head.

"I'm going to have a dislocated disk in my spine," he laughed.

"I'm sorry, but I had to do it," I told him, "This is actually kinda fun."

"Breaking my back?" he inquired before reaching up and tickling me. I fell into a fit of giggles and he tried to flip us over. I jumped up though, slapping his hands away and running towards Trace and the dogs. I didn't have to turn around to know he was coming after me, so I just ran with what energy I had left and laughed.

Rachel who?

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

The women were in the kitchen, cooking up a storm. Lynn was the head cook and had assigned me and Rachel to vegetable peeling. We sat across from each other in silence as I peeled back corn husk and she sliced carrots. I didn't feel safe with her crazy ass holding a knife, but I figured that Justin was in the other room and Lynn seemed to like me enough to stop her niece from killing me.

I didn't try and hide my distain for her. I made sure I was sitting away from her and that I was looking down the entire time. Lynn was giving directions to Joy, who didn't seem to know much about the kitchen or at least Justin's kitchen. Lynn was directing her to every pot, pan, and spoon like she lived here. I wondered if she were here that much. Justin did say she was his best friend... I sort of envied that relationship. My mother was always just ... my mother. Nagging, annoying, overbearring, but there like she was suppose to be. She didn't get invovled into my life unless she wanted to know when I was having babies or getting married. Our friendship never developed. It was just the standard, awkward relationship between mother and daughter.

"Sash, honey, are you done with the potatoes?" Lynn's southern voice filtered through my mind and I grabbed the bowl of peeled pototoes from the table and stood.

"Yeah, they're right here," I told her, handing them to her extended hands. She looked them over and smiled brightly.

"You cook all the time, don't you?" she asked and I shrugged.

"I guess," I said, "I cook for myself all the time. Cheaper than eating out."

"I hope you sit Justin down and teach him something," she told me, "He can make a bowl of cereal and toast. I don't know what I did wrong." We all laughed, but I stopped the moment I heard Rachel's laughter. She was an immediate mood killer in my book.

"I'll try, but I will give him some credit," I told her, "He helped me with dinner once and made the smoothest mashed potatoes I've ever had. They were delicious." Lynn rose a brow and nodded approvingly.

"I'll be damned," she smiled, "He made something...good." I laughed with Joy on that one before I headed back to my spot at the table.

"He's capable of learning," I told her, "He's just too busy picking at your food to help you finish it."

"I'm so glad I'm not the only one who knows that!" Joy said, "He just picks, picks, picks..." We laughed again and Lynn shook her head.

"For a boy who picks and picks, he sure is tiny," she said disapprovingly, "I hope you didn't think we were starving the boy or something when y'all first met."

"Of course not," I assured, "He's naturally that small. He's in really great shape though." Lynn gave me a look, but smiled.

"I'm sure you'd know that..." she mumbled and I felt the blood rushing to my face.

"I wasn't implying -" I tried to explained, but she shushed me.

"Girl, I'm just teasing," she said, "It's okay. I know y'all are attracted to each other. My boy's handsome and you're gorgeous too. Sex is bound to happen." I almost choked on air as I coughed. Joy ran to my side, tapping my back until I told her I was fine.

"I'm sorry," I apologized and Lynn laughed out loud.

"I'm sorry, I'm an open person," she explained, "I guess you don't want to hear your boyfriend's mother discussing your sex life."

"No, it's okay," I said, even though it wasn't, "I guess I'm just not accustom to that kind of ... openness."

"Well, Justin and I talk about everything, so I don't really have that much of a filter," she told me with a shrug. I went back to cutting up some cabbage. The conversation came and went as we moved along the kitchen and prepared dinner. It was surprising comfortable, even with Rachel in the room. We had a few shared laughs that ended quickly as soon as we realized it was happening. The food was smelling better and better and I was getting hungrier by the moment.

"Ma!" Justin's voice shouted out from the other room before he came jogging in.

"What?" Lynn asked as she checked the roast beef in the stove.

"We're gonna get something to snack on," he told her, winking at me when he caught my eye, "We're starving and the food's taking too long."

"It might go faster if we had some more people to help us," Lynn shot back, but Justin waved her off.

"You know I'd just get in the way," he said, creeping up behind her to steal a homefry from the plate on the counter beside her. She slapped his hand away just in the knick of time and he sucked his teeth as we shook our heads at him.

"Always pickin'," Lynn complained.

"You love me," Justin said, kissing her cheek and running away as he yanked up a fry. She swatted at his running figure, but he had made it over to me before she could even turn all the way around.

"Don't hide behind me," I said, leaning away from his crouching, munching form. "I'm not getting smack for you." He gasped dramatically as the ladies laughed (except Rachel).

"So much for loving me," he pouted as he rested his chin on my shoulder, "You're letting these evil women turn you against me." I giggled as he nuzzled his stubble-covered cheek into my neck, hugging me in place as I laughed. I had to practically head butt him to get him off of me, but it worked.

"You're an ass," I laughed as he pulled away from me.

"You're just way too ticklish," he said, standing up straight before poking my shoulder. I squirmed and laughed. "See." I sucked my teeth and he leaned down, kissing my forehead.

"Y'all are too cute," Lynn gushed by the stove Joy was now attending to, "I can't wait for Aunt Clare to meet you. She'll eat you up."

"She literally will eat you," Justin mumbled, "She's like a thousand pounds." I held my mouth agape before a carrot hit Justin's chest.

"That's my mama!" Rachel yelled, tossing another carrot Justin slapped away, "Auntie Lynn!"

"Justin Randall, that's just mean," his mother reprimanded and he had the nerves to hold his hands up like he was innocent and confused.

"Mama, she is!" he whined, "And she eats everything. If she didn't eat everything I wouldn't have said that."

"You know people think I'm fat too, right?" I voiced and Justin rolled his eyes.

"You are not fat," he dismissed, "You're curvy in all the right."

"Which is code for fat," Rachel spat out.

"Shut the hell up, Rachel," Justin growled as I glared at her.

"Justin, please give me permission to whoop her ass, just this one time..." I said and Lynn immediately cut.

"No ass whoopin's today," she said, "Rachel, apologize."

"But-" she started to complain, but Lynn raised her hand.

"Apologize," she said sternly and I smiled smugly.

"I'm sorry..." Rachel mumbled like a little kid and I shrugged.

"Whatever." Justin was still glaring at her and she tried not to meet his gaze.

"You already know what I'm going to say, Rachel," he said in a calm tone, "I'm not trying to send you home this soon, but you were already sticking your nose in my business earlier and I let it go. You got one more chance."

"You're already choosing her over family," Rachel grumbled.

"I'm not choosing anything," he argued back, "I'm asking you to be respectful of my relationship with Sash. She's going to be around for a long time, whether you like it or not." Rachel's eyes shot up at him the moment mine's did as well. I took his hand and gave it a squeeze as my heart shook a little in my chest.

"Are y'all getting married!?!" Lynn said, beaming like a beacon of light. Her smile was wide as hell and I looked at Justin to make sure I wasn't missing anything... like our engagement.

"No, mama, geez..." he sighed, "At least not now." Now my heart was pounding. He wanted to marry me at some point? I was marriage material to him. He said it so casually like it was somethng that was quite the possibility.

"I hope you're joking," Rachel said and Justin turned back to her.

"And if I'm not?" he challenged and she glared at me.

"You're fucking up," she said simply, "You really think that's going to work?"

"Who are you to question whether or not we'll work?" I asked.

"I'm sorry, but I don't remember speaking to you," she shot back.

"I'm sorry, but I don't remember giving a damn," I shot back, "I don't know what your problem is, but I think we need to discuss it."

"I don't think we need to do that," Justin said, placing his hand on my shoulder, "Rachel was just shutting up now anyway. Right, Rach?"

"No, I wasn't," she said, "I think we do need to discuss this."

"Rachel, I swear to god -" Justin began before being cut off.

"Don't threaten me!" she told him, "Y'all act like everything's normal when it's not. Why do you think Justin flew half the family up here?" she asked, turning to me. I looked up at Justin whose jaw was so locked it looked like he was going to break the teeth in his mouth... Or break Rachel's face.

"Rachel, shut up," Justin said with a great deal of warning behind his words.

"Then you tell her!" she yelled, "Tell her why we all couldn't just go home to Millington and eat dinner with the entire family. Tell her why you had to yank the kids from school to meet her."

"I thought they were on vacation," I said and Justin glanced down at me.

"They are," he assured before turning back to Rachel. "I'm not telling you again to shut your mouth."

"Rachel, please calm down," Lynn spoke after being extremely quiet. In fact, everybody was extremely quiet. Even the dogs weren't barking and I felt like I was out of the loop somehow.

"Whatever," Rachel said, standing up and slamming her chair in, "I'll pack my stuff and send myself home." She left the kitchen with a huff and Justin's tense form visibly relaxed with a deep breath the moment she was gone.

"What the hell was that about?" I asked and he shook his head before giving my forehead another kiss.

"Nothing," he answered, "That was nothing."

"That didn't sound like nothing," I argued, but he pulled away from me and walked towards the kitchen door.

"Not right now, Sash," he told me quickly before speaking to Lynn, "I'll be back, Ma."

"Okay..." Lynn mumbled before turning back to the roast. Joy was stirring the macaroni and cheese and I was staring at the door Justin disappeared behind without giving me a second glance. I felt like asking Lynn and Joy what the hell had happened, but with the way their backs were to me, I knew that I'd get rejected, so I went back to peeling vegetables in silence. Something shifted and I couldn't tell what the hell it was, but it wasn't a good feeling.

I had stayed up for a good majority of the night. I couldn't sleep. Rachel and Justin arguing was continually replaying in my mind. I looked at it from every angle and came to one conclusion: his family wouldn't approve of me because of my race. I didn't want to hear that though. It was one thing to suspect it, but for it to be confirmed made my stomach weak. I didn't even finish my dinner. I had gone upstairs in hopes that Justin would follow soon after, but when I rolled over at 2:34AM and his side was still empty, I figured that it was a lost cause. I knew that I had to be right. He was avoiding me. Even at dinner he sat next to me quietly and went on with the family chitter chatter without acknowledging me. If I hadn't known better, I would've thought he was mad at me.

I didn't get it though. Why would he avoid me like that? Wouldn't he want to reassure me that I was worrying too much? He was the one who said that his family 'wasn't like that' when I had brought up the whole race issue in the first place. He even laughed like I was being absurd... I ended up falling asleep around three in the morning and I woke up at noon. I needed to stop sleeping in like that, but I felt so exhausted, even as I rolled out of bed nearly nine hours after I fell asleep. Justin's side was as empty as it was last night and I wondered if he ever came to bed. I decided to just shower and pull on a sundress dress, grabbing my cell and heading downstairs.

The living room was empty and I headed towards the kitchen. The door swung open before I could get to it and Rachel glared at me as she stepped past me. I rolled my eyes and made my way into the kitchen, making a bowl of Special K before eating it alone at the kitchen table. I looked out into the yard from where I sat and Brian and Brennan were nowhere in sight. Was nobody home? It was hard to tell in a mansion. I finished my cereal, washed my dishes, and headed out. I was about to reach the living room until I noticed another hall to my right. I hadn't noticed it before now, so my curiousity got the best of me. I headed down and there were three doors, spaced apart a good distance. I opened up the first one and flipped on the light switch. I gasped a little as an array of awards, some hanging on the walls, others in glass cases, took over the room before me.

Grammys and GQ awards. A couple of surfboards from TeenChoice. It was so weird to know that these were acknowledgements of his accomplishments. I always wondered what celebrities did with all of them... I guess they all had rooms. I didn't step in any further, afraid to knock something out of place in the mist of my snooping, so I backed out and closed the door after I hit the lights. I made my way up to door number two. I opened that carefully, hitting the lights as well. This one wasn't so bad. A desk and a bright blue guitar lying against it. There were files and plants... It was an office. I guess he was a business man too, so it would make sense to have one. I shrugged, hit the lights, and exited.

Door number three was further separated than door one and two. I opened it and the door creaked like it needed oil. I hit the lights and was stunned by the sight before me. A glass incased room, soundboards, keyboard, and guitars. There was some stuff I didn't recognize and a notebook and pen tossed on the seat of a chair... A recording studio, right in the middle of his house. What the hell? This was strange even though Justin was a musician. I wasn't expecting an entire recording studio. I was amazed and I stepped inside this time, careful not to trip on any cords. This was where the magic happened. I wasn't much into his music, but he was passionate about it. He loved it and a part of me wanted to love it too just because he did. It was hard to explain, but I could feel him everywhere in here. It was like I haven't seen him in forever and I was reminiscing.

I picked up the notebook tossed on the chair, took a seat, and placed it on my lap. There were random lines written down and crossed out. Edited and reworded. This was his song book obviously. His loopy writing was big and clear. I immediately thought of my late birthday gift when I saw his lettering. I read some of the phrases. They were love songs mostly, but there were some angrier heart felt stuff too. I couldn't tell if these were new or old. I didn't have any of his albums, so it could've been anything. All I knew was that I loved every word as my eyes scanned them. Some of the lines he crossed out were the most beautiful and I wondered why he didn't like them.

I was so into the book that when my phone rang, I screamed and dropped it along with his notes. Loose sheets fell out and I jumped from the seat to collect them.

"Shit," I grumbled, knowing that he'd definitely notice I was in here now that I was down on my knees, scrambling to reorganize his scattered sheet music. The phone continued to ring and as I reached for it, my eyes caught sight of a glossy photo. It must've fallen out of the book as well. I picked it up slowly as the image became more clear. It was of him and Jessica, surrounded by others. I recognized some of the people - Lynn, Joy, Steve, John, Randall, Paul, and Rachel - but the others were unfamiliar. Justin was kissing an elderly woman's cheek and I assumed it was his grandmother or something. It was a family portrait, Jessica and all, tucked inside of a notebook full of love songs...

I stared at the picture, knowing it was the past, but I couldn't help but feel jealous. She fit right in. He had taken her home and with the way the family crowded around her, shoulder to shoulder, they liked her at the very least. I thought back to yesterday's argument and realized that I'd probably never quite get this family portrait. I'd never quite fit in... I felt myself getting choked up at the thought. I wanted to fit into his life so badly and if his celebrity wasn't enough, now race was the issue. I hadn't even really thought about that until the moment came and now I wish I did.

I sighed and grabbed the rest of the scattered sheets, neatly piling them together and sticking them into the book. The photo was still in my hands though. As much as it pained me, I couldn't stop staring at it. It was honestly really beautiful. Everybody looked so damn happy.

My phone rang again, this time not startling me as much. I flipped it open without a glance at who was calling.

"Yes?" I answered, sat on the floor with a thump.

"Were you ever planning to call me?" Clare asked into the line, "I know you miss me by now." She laughed at her own joke and I smiled softly to myself.

"I kinda do," I admitted, "I've been kinda distracted though. So sorry."

"It's okay..." Clare said wearily, "Are you alright?" I held the picture tighter and shook my head even though she couldn't see me.

"Not at all," I said softly, feeling my eyes well up, "I'm so frustrated, Clare. I can't be happy. There's always something."

"What the hell happened?" Clare asked, alarmed. "Did you and Justin have a fight?"

"No, not really," I sniffled, "Apparently his family isn't too fond of our racial differences though."

"What!" Clare shrieked, "What did they say? I will come down there and -"

"Calm down," I said, "His cousin's the only one who's really like that, and she didn't really say anything racist. She's more concerned about my homewrecking, gold digging ways."

"You're not a gold digging homewrecker," Clare argued, "Did you hit her?" I laughed.

"No, but I wanted to," I said.

"You should've knocked every tooth out of her mouth 'cause I would've," she grumbled, "You were the one letting that boy stay with you when he had nothing to his name."

"I know," I said.

"And homewrecking? Didn't that hoebag ex of his cheat on him?" Clare asked.

"Yeah, but she's Jessica's best friend or something," I said, "Justin told me to ignore her."

"Easy for him to say," Clare said, "But what's with the race thing?"

"He didn't take me to Tennessee because his family won't approve," I said, "At least that's the general conclusion."

"Oh..." Clare hissed out sympathically, "I wasn't really expecting that."

"Why?" I asked, "He's white and southern. I put two and two together."

"Well... Justin's not like that," Clare said simply, "He's in love with you and he did that without much hesitation. I would think he grew up in an openminded environment." I shrugged and pulled at the corners of the photograph.

"Apparently not..." I sighed, "I don't know what to do, Clare... It's not so bad. I got caught by paparazzi and he literally held my hand through it. I feel kinda normal here... But then this stupid race thing comes up and I'm back at square one." I shook my head, feeling discouraged. "Maybe this just isn't suppose to happen."

"Don't say that," Clare immediately scolded, "Y'all love each other. There are just some bumps in the road."

"There are moon craters in our road, Clare," I shot back, "I love him and he loves me, but Justin is a family man. He loves his family like... Like I don't even know. They're all friends or something. I can't compete with the relationship he has with them. If they don't want me around, I'm not going to be around."

"Justin will fight for you, Sash," Clare assured, "Do you really think he's gonna leave you because at first they don't approve over something as stupid as the color of your skin?"

"Yes," I said, "How am I suppose to be in his life when the people closest to him don't want me around?"

"Didn't he fly out half his family up to see you?" she asked.

"Yeah, but that was immediate family," I said, "Those who were able to come."

"Do they like you?" she questioned and I shrugged.

"I guess... Except Rachel." Clare sucked her teeth.

"Forget her," she said, "If you have his mother's approval, that's enough."

"She is his best friend..." I tried to reason with myself.

"See, even better," Clare encouraged, "She's the most important person. Just stay on her good side and he'll be yours forever." I stared down at the picture in my hands before placing it on the floor beside me, face down. I shifted my vision to my barefeet as my legs stretched in front of me. I tried to think about it through Clare's mind view. Lynn was his mother and he loved her more than anyone. I could already see that with the way he spoke about her and with her. She did seem to like me enough.

"Ugh..." I groaned, "I dunno. I guess you're right, but... I'm not really sure about his relationships with family down south though. He could be as close to them as he is to his mama."

"Does he talk about them?" she asked.

"Well, no, but he probably didn't bring them up on purpose," I said, getting a bit annoyed, "I asked him in the car. I specifically asked him if he told his family I was black and he told me it didn't matter. He said they weren't like that..."

"Well, the ones you've met aren't like that," Clare said, "Maybe that's what he meant."

"But he knew I was worried, so he should've -"

"Told you his family was racist and had you packin' your bags and heading right back home?" Clare inserted.

"He should've told me," I stated firmly.

"He was worried that you'd freak out probably," Clare cooed, "I'm sorry this is happening though. You guys are always going through something."

"Really? I haven't noticed," I said sarcastically, "He won't even speak to me now. He didn't even come to bed last night."

"Hmmm..." Clare thought, "Maybe he didn't want you to bring it up or something. That's an awkward conversation."

"Awkward or not, it's a big deal. We should discuss it."

"You should..." Clare agreed, "Maybe you should call him and see where he is." I rolled my eyes.

"I shouldn't have to call someone who shares a bed with me," I argued, "He can come to me whenever he's ready."

"Whatever you want to do," she told me simply, "But I have to get back to work. I'm getting looks from people for being on the phone so long."

"I wish you were here," I frowned, "I'm gonna lose my mind and it's been three days."

"It's just the beginning of the third day too," Clare pointed out, "Good luck with that."

"Thanks..." I mumbled.

"Give Justin a hello for me if he ever comes out of hiding," she joked and I smirked.

"Whatever," I sighed, "I'll call you later."

"You better," she told me.

"Oh and give Bob a good rub down for me," I frowned, missing my cat.

"Of course," she assured. We said our goodbyes and hung up. I sat on the floor for a moment longer before I stood, taking the photo from the floor and placing it somewhere within in his songbook again. I exited the space and shut the door behind me. I glanced down the hall and noticed another side door I hadn't noticed before. I figured I had come this far and my curiousity was still going. I heading down towards it, my barefeet creeking against the wooden floors.

My fingers touched the brass knob of the door that turned smoothly and opened quietly as I walked in. There was exercise equipment in a completely white room. Weights, benches, treadmills, and an eliptical and other stuff I couldn't name, but had seen in the hospital gym back at home. As I trailed in, a sweat covered back caught my eye.

I frowned a little as Justin sat with his back to me, curling his bicep to lift a weight. His guardian angel tattoo glistened as the muffled sound of music came from his Ipod earphones, tucked into his ears. He didn't know I was here and I was tempted to back out of the room and leave, but I crept around the equipment and made my way over to him instead. I was about two feet away before his head whipped around and his wide eyes landed on me.

He sighed heavily and dropped his weight on the floor with a thud. "Hey," he said as he pulled out of his earphones, "You're up."

I nodded. "Yep," I said simply as he looked away from and tied the cord around his Ipod, "So are you." He chuckled, but it didn't seem very amused.

"Good observation," he told me, standing and turning to face me. I had stopped walking the moment he turned and saw me, so the distance between us only made things more awkward. I glanced down at his sweaty pecs and abs before looking him in the eye again.

"So... what's up?" I asked and he raised a brow, looking down as he tucked his Ipod into his black mesh basketball shorts.

"What do you mean?" he asked his pocket, taking entirely too long to put his musical device away.

"Justin," I said, trying to get him to look up at me, "Justin, I'm up here." He looked up and smiled softly.

"You're actually down here," he said, taking a jab at my height. I rolled my eyes, not liking his lame attempt to change the subject.

"I don't like this," I told him, "I don't like you avoiding me."

"I'm not avoiding you," he quickly denied, bending down to retrieve the weight he dropped earlier, "I was working out."

"And last night?" I asked as he made his way over to a weight shelf he had set up.

"What about last night?" he asked, his back to me again as he placed his exercise equipment back where it was.

"You didn't come to bed," I said.

"I came to bed," he argued, picking up some sweaty tank and pulling it over his head.

"Not before three in the morning," I whined, "I waited up for you." He shrugged and made his way over to a blue towel hanging from some bar.

"I was up with Trace," he told me simply, "We were playing pool in my game room."

"You have a game room?" I asked in disbelief watching as he dried his sweat covered face.

"It's on the other side of the house," he explained, "I can shower and we can play something if you want." I almost took him up on his offer before I realized it was yet another distraction.

"You're full of shit, Justin," I said, deciding to just call him on it rather than beating around the bush. He had the nerves to actually look offended as he dried himself off.

"How am I full of shit?" he questioned. "I was playing pool with Trace. You can ask him if you want to."

"I don't care about you playing pool," I said, "I'm care about why you played pool until I was sleeping so you wouldn't have to talk to me about what happened yesterday."

"What happened yesterday?" he asked and I groaned.

"You have to be fucking kidding me," I said. He shrugged.

"I'm not," he said, "Nothing happened yesterday."

"You and Rachel arguing happened yesterday," I said, "Do I need to refresh your memory with a play by play explanation of what happened?" He rolled his eyes.

"That was nothing."

"That was something," I argued, "You need to tell me what the hell it was about."

"Sash, I'm really tired and I don't feel like arguing with you right now," he said, "I'm not bringing up some old argument -"

"It's not old!" I interrupted when he tried to walk around me. I stepped in his path. "Justin, we're going to discuss this like adults."

"Now you want to talk?" he asked and I furrowed my brows.

"What does that mean?" I asked and he shook his head.

"Nothing," he said, making me ten times angrier.

"Stop saying things are 'nothing'," I seethed, "Just tell me."

"Sash -"

"Justin, I already have a pretty good idea about what it was anyway," I confessed.

"Then what do you need me for?" he snapped, "You know everything, right?"

"No, I don't," I said, "I don't know why somebody who's suppose to love me won't help me understand something that's upsetting me." He rolled his eyes and sighed.

"That's the problem right there," he said softly.

"What?" I asked and he fiddled with the towel in his hands.

"I don't want to upset you," he said, "I don't want to upset somebody that I love."

"Then talk to me," I pleaded, reaching towards him to take one of his hands, "I'm just asking you to talk to me." My whole body relaxed when his tense shoulders fell and his eyes met mine. They were so soft and sad that I felt bad for raising my voice at him. He looked as confused as I felt.

"I swear I didn't even think about things like that until Rachel said something yesterday," he rambled, "I knew Rachel's family was kinda... narrrowminded, but we're not that close to them anyway. Rachel's the only one I really speak to, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized that... yeah, my whole family's pretty old fashioned in that way. My whole hometown has this kinda... separate but equal vibe. I have all kinds of neighbors, but we don't mingle with each other... Not romantically anyway. I can barrow a cup of sugar from Mr. Greg, but I can't date his daughter, ya know? I never noticed that before... I never noticed how that was because I never had to deal with it. If anybody in my family's dating someone, they're as white as me, ya know? There's nothing interracial going on, but I just thought that was just how it turned out. I didn't realize it was a choice." He sighed and shook his head as I played with his fingers, letting his words sink in.

"I will confess this though," he told me reluctantly, "I did fly my family out here on purpose because my other cousins - Rachel's brothers - are staying my grandma's place right now because they got into a huge fight with their parents. They're 18 and 21, but they are pretty foul with their mouths. I knew that if I brought you home, they'd say something and I'd have to kill them myself." I didn't know whether or not I should laugh at that, so I just brought his hands to my lips, kissing his knuckles gently.

"Justin, I just want to be with you," I confessed, feeling vulnerable, "I love you and I don't care what other people think of that, but I am scared that your family not approving of me will eventually... tear us apart, I guess. I know that you have good relations with your family and I don't want to cause you any drama either."

"Look, even if I do lose family and friends... That's fine," he told me simply, "They weren't really family or friends if they can't support me. They should want me to be happy with whoever I choose and Sash, that's you. Black, white, Asian, or Latino. You're who I need." I sighed and shook my head. I knew that family could be a pain in the ass better than anyone, but I also knew that they were irreplacable and relationships fall apart.

"Justin, if we break up, you'll look like an asshole for ditching half your family and friends for me," I told him bluntly, "I mean, yeah, they're dumb for casting me out because of my race, but they are still your family. Nobody can love you like they love. Nobody has your back like they have your back-"

"I beg to differ," he interrupted, "You love me just as good as them and you have my back just as much as them." I rolled my eyes.

"It's not the same thing," I told him, "Justin, I can leave you. Or you can leave me. We can break up and never make up again... Family never leaves - ever. No matter how much we push Uncle Jim away or argue with our parents - they are still family. When shit goes down, they're usually the first people we rely on. I know that this is especially true for you. You've told me time and time again that you really just have your family and a handful of friends that you trust. I don't want to take that away from you. I don't want to put a strain on that bond you have."

"And you won't," he told me softly, "Sash, you're not the problem here. I appreciate what you're saying, but the only way no drama will happen with my family is if we break up right now and trust me - that's not happening." I groaned in frustration because he was right.

"Well... I don't know what to say then," I said, tossing my hands up in surrender.

"Just tell me that you forgive my lame attempts to avoid you and that you love me," he told me with a small smile.

"I forgive your immature, unnecessary, lame attempts to avoid me and I love you," I said and he frowned.

"I don't remember the terms 'immature' and 'unnecessary' coming out of my mouth."

"Do you want to be forgiven or not?" I asked before he playfully slapped my leg with his sweat towel. "Justin!" I shrieked, punching his arm and regretting it as soon as my fist came in contact with his sweaty skin.

"That's what you get," he teased when I wiped his sweat juice on a dry spot on his shirt.

"You need to shower - immediately."

"Why? You don't like me sweaty, baby?" He tried to take a step toward but I took three steps back.

"I only don't mind the sweat if I'm the cause of it," I said, "Gym sweat is a no-no." He laughed heartily and nodded.

"I suppose that's fair," he told me, "I'll wash up and then we'll go and take a walk or something." He took my hand and I wrinkled my nose as he chuckled and pulled me forward. We walked quietly through the hall and as we passed his studio door, I looked down at my feet, remembering that stupid family portrait.

"Your house is too big," I said softly, "I can't believe you have a studio in this place."

"You noseying around?" Justin joked, giving my hand a squeeze. I looked up at his smiling face and I knew that he loved me. I felt safer and assured that maybe things wouldn't be so bad, but I at the same time, I couldn't trust the strength of that love 100%.

"I was bored. I though nobody but Rachel was around..." I explained sheepishly, "Besides, I found you in the end anyway. It was worth noseying around."

"Well, nobody's around 'cause they went to the beach this morning. Rachel didn't feel like it 'cause she's PMSing or something," he rolled his eyes, "I can show you the rest of the house though. I have a mini arcade, a guest house, and we can check out my garage too. I have some new motorcycles we can ride -"

"Slow your roll, buddy," I interrupted, "I will gladly look at the motorcycles, but if you think I'm navigating some overpowered bike on the unknown streets of LA, you're crazy." He laughed.

"You can just ride with me," he suggested, "I'll give you a helmet and you can hold me tight." He batted his lashes at me and I slapped his arm with a small laugh.

"Stop making fun of me," I whined, "And my feelings remain the same - hell no." He sucked his teeth and sighed.

"Fine," he whined, "But one of these days..."

"You'll have to knock me out with a horse tranquilizer first," I told him, making him chuckle. "I'm not joking."

"It's funny because I know how serious you are," he explain, "You're too cute." I rolled my eyes.

"What did I tell you about that awful word?" I reminded. He pinched my side, making me giggle.

"Shush it up, woman," he playfully reprimanded as we finally made to his living room, "I'mma shower and we'll take your cute butt on a tour before bike riding."

"Yeah, okay," I said sarcastically, letting go of his hand to plop on the couch. He leant down to kiss my lips gently.

"You're getting on that bike," he told me softly, turning to take the stairs. I rolled my eyes, but didn't argue, knowing that I was NOT getting on that bike no matter what he thought.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I couldn't see anything.

It was probably because my eyes were squeezed close so tightly that I felt like I was pushing my eyeballs deeper into my skull as my arms wrapped around his thin waist in an attempt keep my life from ending way before its time.

Got fucking damn him.

"You okay back there?" Justin's voice came a little muffled from within his helmet as he slowed down to a stop. The growling engine was still going, the sound of the LA streets were bustling around me... We hadn't reached out destination. It was just another red light. I decided it was safe enough to lift my heavy-helmet covered head and glare at him through the tinted eye shield.

"If we crash, you better hope we die because I'm gonna kill you for making me ride this thing." He laughed, fully amused as the light turned green and he revived the engine.

"I love you too!" he obnoxiously chuckled before I dropped my head back down and held my breath as he jetted forward. I felt the motorcyle weaving quickly. The wind was blocking out any normal sounds except for the motorcycles roar. I was completely rigid and Justin was relaxed as he rode along, singing at the top of his lungs.

I really did love this man because I was trusting him with my life right now. I had never riden a motorcycle. I don't think I've ever touched one. He promised me that he'd just take me around the parking lot and if I hated it he'd stop. I stupidly agreed. This was after he made me put my bathing suit on beneath my dress, saying he wanted to meet his family up at the shore. Next thing I know he was speeding down his ramp towards the highway and I was screaming. It was either tuck and roll or hold on tight.

I should've just tucked and rolled.

It took another twenty minutes, but the bike finally slowed and the ignition cut off. I still wanted as Justin shuffled around and my ears popped, allowing crashing waves and happy voices to filter in more clearly.

"We're here, sweetness," Justin laughed. I lifted my head, opened my eyes, and surveyed the area to make sure he wasn't lying. He was parked inbetween Trace's van and his mother's car. The beach was down beneath us over the railings of the boardwalk. I sighed and pulled off my helmet. My face was cooled back the ocean breeze and I shook my curls until they felt normal again.

"You are a very lucky man," I said, sliding off the back of the bike as he hopped off the front a moment later. He chuckled and kicked down the kick stand before removing his helmet. He quickly pulled out some shades and covered his face. He locked our helmets to the bike with a chain and turned to smile at me.

"We still have the ride back," he told me, and I snapped my head back.

"You're out of your rabbit mind if you think I'm riding back with you," I told him, "I'm riding with Trace or your mama." I knew he was rolling his eyes, but I still allowed him to take my hand and lead me toward the boardwalk path to the beach.

"Sash, baby, you're gonna have to loosen up," he told me, "I'm an adventureous man."

"Then you picked the wrong woman," I told him, "Adventure to me is getting drunk and calling people. Even that's crazy." He laughed heartily and I cracked a smile despite myself.

"Damn, granny, you have a lot to learn," he told me playfully, "But don't worry - Big Daddy's willing to teach you." I snorted a laugh.

"Big Daddy?" I giggled, "Justin, the only think I'm willing to let you teach me is anything within the confides of your bedroom. And I think that's pretty nice of me."

"True, true," he agreed, "But riding a motorcycles pretty sensual. I mean, you're scared and have nothing but me to hold onto but me. You feel the way I move the bike - every curve and bump. The engine is always groaning beneath you. You're just an inch away from death and danger. You're heart's beating, you're sweating... The wind is caressing every last inch of your skin, and you can hardly take a normal breath... You were whimpering the hold ride. I felt your body on me and your heart beat against my back and all I could think about was how amazing your ass must've looking riding on the back of me... Sash, I almost turned around and took you home - or the nearest hotel." I stopped walking and he turned to look at me.

"You are such a freak," I said, oddly turned on and disturbed. He shrugged.

"You say it like it's a bad thing," he smirked, "Last I checked, you didn't mind."

"I don't," I assured, continuing our walk hand-in-hand, "But you just made something I hate sound like something I need to do again.. and again." He laughed heartily.

"Well, thank you," he smiled, "It's a gift." The conversation ended on that note because Steve's little self came running up to us, smack into Justin's legs as Lynn waved at me from their umbrella near the water's edge. I hadn't been to a real beach and Justin assured me that I'd have fun. I was more worried about not being able to swim, but he assured me that we wouldn't go out that deep, but if we did, he has me and won't let the sharks drag me away.

There were enough people in the water though to assure me it was shark free and as we approached Lynn and Paul, I could see Trace and the rest of the gang out at sea, including a pretty blonde Trace was holding in his arms. I was curious, but Justin was hugging Lynn and handshaking with Paul. I gave Lynn a hug as well as Steven rambled on about a crab he apparently caught earlier because it pinched his toe. I glanced down at the sand beneath my feet, worried.

"Baby, could you lotion my back for me?" Justin asked, getting my attention. He was down to just swim trunks, his clothes piled into Lynn's gigantic beach bag. He was holding up some sunscreen and I took it from him and poured some into my hands. I rubbed it over his back and shoulders and took some for myself. It was brighter than bright as I removed my dress and revealed my tankini top and shorts. The black was slimming, but it was a plain, safe bathing suit. I wanted to just sit beneath the umbrella for a while as I kicked off my flip flops, allowing the hot sand to sink beneath my toes, but Justin took my hand and dragged me out to sea.

"The water's a little cold," he warned, already walking in the wet sand. I stepped in it after him, chilled instantly, "It'll feel good though. Just run right into it. Let the waves get you." He said it like I had a choice. He was holding me captive, taking a moment to stand behind me and guide me in the water. The waves jumped halfway up my legs and I yelped at the cold waters. Justin laughed and gasped beside me, but still moved us along. Trace was waist high out with the girl he was with. Randall, John, and Joy were swimming further out. He taught me to jump waves as we came towards Trace and his companion. He caught me when I almost fell completely into the sea, laughing as I struggled to hold my giggle. The water hit my face a little and it was salty as hell in my mouth.

"Trace, man," Justin greeted as Trace held the blonde and turned to face us.

"Hey!" he smiled brightly, "Y'all made it out."

"We did," Justin smirked, "Hey, Elisha, this is Sash." Elisha, all wrapped up in Trace's arms, happily extended her hand towards me.

"So you're the infamous Sash, huh?" she smiled brightly as we shook, "Justin doesn't shut up about you."

"Hey!" Justin whined, holding my waist as a smaller wave hit us. I giggled a little.

"Well, all good things, I hope," I said, "It's nice to meet you Elisha."

"She's Trace's fiancee," Justin said, answering my unspoken question, "She's too pretty for him, right? That's what I said." I gasped and slapped Justin's arm as Trace placed Elisha down. I sensed something was not going to be good, so I smoothly detatched myself from Justin right as Trace tackled him into the water. Elisha and I laughed as she shook her head.

"All the time, I swear," she sighed. A bigger wave came and I instinctly clunge to her as we both jumped. She laughed as I apologized.

"Sorry," I said sheepishly, "I'm not that big of a wimp, but I can't really swim."

"It's okay," she assured me, "It's better to jump waves together." She took hold of my arms and jumped with me as another wave came. "See!" I was happy not to be an oddball as Justin, soaking wet as Trace, finally re-emerged laughing with his friend.

"Damn, I leave y'all alone for two seconds and you guys are best friends," Justin smiled.

"I'm terrified of drowning and Elisha was kind enough to help me jump waves," I explained, "If my lovely boyfriend had been around to hold me as he promised..." We all chuckled and Justin rolled his eyes, wrapping his arms around my waist to pull me against him.

"Thank you, Elisha, but I've got this," he said to her and she was already back on Trace in two seconds, "As for you..." Justin whispered in my ear, "... I won't leave your side again, I promise." He kissed my lobe as I turned to face him. Smaller waves made my steps unsteady, but he held me tightly as I draped my arms over his shoulders and around my neck, standing on the tips of my toes to kiss his mouth.

"I was only joking," I told him, "But if you want to hold me all day, I won't object to it." Justin smiled and then a huge wave crashed into us, knocking us both down. I held my breath as I fell completely into the water. Justin had a grip on my hand, but a pull back of the wave caused us to detach. I panicked for a moment as another wave hit me as I tried to left my face from the water. I tried to stand, but I was too short to feel the sand. I realized, as I finally got my head up, that I had somehow drifted much further out to sea than I had been. The shore was a ways away. I was out where Randall, Joy, and John had been swimming and when I realized this, it took every in me not to scream for help. My instinct kicked in and I flapped around, trying to keep my head up. Another wave hit me and I got salt in my eyes before I sunk down into the water.

Now I was freaking out. My eyes were burning and I didn't see anybody that I knew around me. I was under the water trying to find a way up, but no matter how hard I flapped my arms like I've seen them do on Baywatch, I couldn't get up. Eyes closed, air running out, and nothing but water all around... I felt my eyes stinging and I didn't know if more ocean water sunk in or if I were crying, but I knew that I was praying so hard as my lungs tightened. I kicked and flipped my arms about, but I felt like I was sinking more than anything. That wasn't a good sign. I could feel myself giving up and as much as I didn't want to, I knew that I had no choice. I couldn't hear anything, nobody was looking for me, Justin was nowhere in sight when I had last been above the water. My lungs were in need of air and I had nothing but water to supply them.... I knew that it would burn when the ocean water flooded my lungs and nose and throat... Drowning was a horrible way to die, but I had spoken to Clare and seen my mother. Justin and I were holding each other moments ago. I saw love in his eyes and he saw love in mine... I had riden a motorcycle. I had a dream career and I loved again. My life wasn't complete, but it was okay. I guess it was better than dying before I experienced anything. At least I had lived a life...

My whole body relaxed and just as my lips parted and the salty waters touched my tongue, a force from nowhere gripped my entire body and shot me upward. I gasped and coughed as saltwater collided with my throat and the air I was breathing. My lungs were greedily still stealing air as I was trying to stop coughing. There was a hand running over my face and suddenly a voice, as panicked as I felt when I first fell beneath the waters.

"Sash, are you okay?" Justin asked, over and over, "Sash, I'm so sorry. The waves kept coming and you kept getting dragged out..." My hands rubbed my own eyes before I opened them. Justin looked so sad as the warm sun tanned his skin. We were floating in the middle of the water. The shoreline was behind him a ways away. I could see some swimmers around us and beach goers staring in our direction. I turned back to him; he looked like he'd burst into tears at any moment.

"I thought I was going to die," I said, oddly calm. Justin pulled me into a hug and wrapped my legs around his waist.

"I'm so sorry for letting you go," he whispered to me, "I was trying to hold onto you-"

"Shh..." I cooed, running my hands down his neck, "I'm fine." He pulled back to stare at me, confused.

"I should be the one comforting you, right?" he smiled, "Why are you so calm?" I shrugged.

"I didn't die," I said simply, "You saved my life, baby." We were somehow forehead to forehead now. He was brushing his nose against mine, arms strongly wrapped around my waist. I wondered how he was keeping us up.

"I love you very much," he said, "But I don't think I'm taking you to the beach for a very long time after this." We both laughed before he detached one arm from my waist and flapped it behind him. He leant back a little and was swimming backward to the shore with me. He was swimming fast too, like he couldn't wait to reach land. Once we reached the shore, I almost kissed the sand as he sat me down in it and knelt in front of me.

"What are you doing?" I asked as he checked my mouth and eyes and ears like a family physician.

"I'm just checking to make sure you're okay," he said, "No seaweed or baby crabs attached to you..."

"Baby crabs?" I asked and he shrugged.

"You never know," he told me simply before leaning down to kiss me again, "I really am sorry."

"It's not your fault," I said, "Besides, nothing happened."

"It could've," he argued, "That was a long time. You were this close to just breathing the water, weren't you?" I shrugged.

"I might've been getting tired, but there's always CPR, right?" He shook his head.

"I will never understand how you can be so nonchalant about this," he told me with a smirk, "I am still freaking out right now. I've never had to deal with that before."

"Probably because I'm the only twenty-something you know who can't swim."

"That could be it..." he joked as I playfully punched his arm.

"Stop worrying," I said after a moment of his pouting and inspection continued, "I'm fine."

"I know, I know," he told me quickly with a sigh, "The thought of losing you is hard to get over."

"But I'm right here," I told him, "And I'm ruining this beach thing."

"You're not ruining anything," he said, "I get my excessive amount of worrying from my mom, which is why this whole almost-drowning-thing is not going to be brought up." We both glanced back at Lynn who was a few feet away and waved when she smiled at us.

"Yeah, that's a good idea," I said, "But I think I'm going to stay on the sad a while."

"Me too," Justin said, sitting beside me.

"Go out and play with Steve and John," I said, "I don't want you sitting next to me the entire day."

"Sash, please," he pleaded, "I think I need to make sure nothing bad happens to you for at least an hour before I can even consider leaving your side." I laughed and shook my head.

"You're being a mom right now," I snickered and he shrugged.

"I'll just take that as a compliment," he told me, leaning back on his arms and closing his eyes as the sun warmed our skins. I leaned over and kissed his cheek and he opened his eyes as he faced me.

"I love you," I said, receiving a kiss in return.

"I love you too," he told me back, kissing my forehead this time. We sat side-by-side and watched the ocean of people surf, swim, and splash in the water. I could still taste the salt in my mouth and a quick flash to the underwater panic I had moments ago went through my mind. It scared me, but I cozied up to Justin more and felt safe again. He had honestly saved my life and I loved him more for it. I guess I could add this to my list of things that are against us. I almost died and surely death would keep us apart like his career, his fame, his racist family, my insecurities, and his stupid Jessica-loving cousin.... I shook my head. It didn't make sense to make two people fall in love if the universe was just going to do everything in its power to try and break them up.

I was showering happily, getting sand out of every crevice of my body. Justin said he wouldn't take me back, but we went to the beach again today. Yesterday's events were traumatizing, but I wasn't going to be afraid of the beach because of one mistake. I think I may be bruised from the grip Justin had around my waist as we waded in the water. The thought made me chuckle to myself as I shook my head. The boy loved me, that much was true. He was covering me every time a wave came and calling my name like crazy if I went under the water for a second. I had to tell him to relax a million times.

"Sash!" Justin called from his bedroom. I slid the glass door back to allow my head to poke out.

"Shower!" I called out and in a flash, he was literally next to the shower stall.

"Guess what?" he smiled, stripping down as he spoke.

"What?" I asked, giggling as he tripped his way out of his basketball shorts.

"Steve's tucked away with his mama and John is downstairs with my Papa. All others are sleeping peacefully and I locked the doors and told everybody I was exhausted and didn't want to be bothered." He yanked down his underwear last and I navigated my eyes to his, holding a steady gaze as he walked smoothly over to the shower, sliding it open further.

"All that means..." I asked as I backed up and he stepped in, sliding the door shut behind him.

"That means..." he told me softly, allowing the waters to splat against his skin as the cool tile wall hit my back. "... you and I are going to get some much needed privacy."

"Mmm..." I hummed as his hands slid down my wet, naked skin. I shivered a bit as he leaned in to my mouth. "That all sounds very tempting, but I'm afraid there's a problem."

"And what would that be?" Justin mumbled against my mouth. I gave him a small kiss and slowly pulled away.

"I really am exhausted," I told him, "I don't think I'll be able to keep up with you." He leaned back a bit, giving me a disbelieving look.

"Sash, you're shitting me right?" he asked, looking like he were ready to cry at any second. I shrugged.

"Not really," I told him, "I'm sorry, but all that beach stuff and motorcycle riding..."

"But that was fun! Sex is fun!" he tried, but I shrugged again.

"Sorry, but no." He stood there and stared at me and I stared back. His tiny pink tongue ran over his lower lip before he placed his hands on either side of me and smirked.

"You are so full of shit, Sash!" he chuckled and I did everything in me not to laugh, but it only pushed my laugh out further.

"Damn it," I groaned, "How do you do that? I was playing it so well."

"You were," he admitted, running his cool hands down my spine and resting them on the curve of my ass. "But I know you want this."

"And how do you know that?" I asked and he glanced down my body before suddenly pulling me from the wall and flipping me around to face it. My cheek and hands rested against the cool, white tile before he firmly smacked my ass with his large hand. It hurt a bit, but it felt so damn good.

"I know because your pussy's wetter than this damn shower," he told me without any hesitation. His hand snuck between my legs and his fingers ran slowly over me from front to back. I arched my back a bit at the sensation he gave me. I felt it right in the center of my stomach. It made my knees weak to have him touch me so intimately.

I let out a sigh as he lined his body against my back, grinding himself against my ass as he ran his hands up my stomach and to my breasts. His lips kissed along my shoulder and neck as our skins touched. I moved myself against him to an imaginary beat in my head and he hissed as he kissed my ear.

"You are so damn sexy, baby..." his husky voice informed me. I bit my bottom lip to keep from moaning at the very sound of him. Would I ever get tired of this man?

I was eventually facing him again, struggling to keep myself up on one leg. Why just one? Because my other leg was hanging over his shoulder as he knelt down in front of me and went to work with that pretty little mouth of his. I was slipping on the wet wall, trying to get some grip on it as my belly filled with this fire that came from deep within me as he moaned against my sensitive flesh and begged me to come with his skillful tongue. I certainly didn't disappoint when I gripped his hair and he had to hold my waist to keep me from falling over in the tub.

The man should be illegal and he knew it as he smirked at my tumbling self. He kissed along my wet skin until he reached my mouth, giving me a taste of myself as he kissed me with an undeniable amount of passion.Tell me how to
Stop this feeling

"Got damn it," I sighed once I got a moment to breathe. Justin smiled against my lips and brushed his nose on mine.

"You're welcome," he chuckled and I smiled with him, kissing his lips softly inbetween, as I hugged his neck and stood on my toes.

I don’t wanna fall in love
Just wanna have a little fun
Then you came and swept me up
And now I’m done, so done

"I guess I should say thank you," I smirked, still a little woozy from my orgasm. He rested his forehead on mine and I closed my eyes and breathed. "This is such a waste of water." I said aloud and Justin pulled back with an amused expression.

"Is that really what you're worried about?" he asked, his perverted hands were everywhere, sliding slowly along my skin. I was shivering down my spine as I shrugged.

"I'm just saying..." I mumbled, "We could save you a higher bill and get this going in the bedroom." Justin pretended to think it over as he kissed the very tip of my nose.

"Fine," he told me, "Whatever you want." I couldn't help but notice the slight pout on his face.

"Did you really want to .... do this in the shower?" I asked and he shrugged, looking down between us.

"I dunno... I just had this whole shower thing going in my head," he told me, "It's stupid."

"What shower thing?" I asked curiously, running my hands over his pecks before he looked down at me.

"It's more of show you rather than tell you thing," he informed me. I bit my bottom lip softly, running my nails down his abdomen.

"Then show me."

Fallen madly deeply I
Surprised myself enough to find
That what’s begun
Is love
And now I’m done, so done

I woke up feeling really warm and really naked... But I was slightly covered by a body twice my length. Hairy legs tangled with mine as a peachy arm hugged my body flush against a warm, muscled chest. His skin smelled like soap and a thin layer of sweat. I guess I smelled the same. We were no longer wet though, having dried off against the sheets on the bed somehow during our long awaited love session. We definitely made up for the lost time and though my ass was sore from all the slapping, it was good feeling. The boy had a ridiculous spanking fetish that was costing me ass damages, but I wasn't going to complain.

I can’t imagine right now
Standing here
Without you

I pulled back a little from his sleeping form to get a glance up at his face. His pink lips were slightly parted, but he mumbled something in his sleep and shut them. I smirked, amused as I wondered what he possibly could've been dreaming about. Something about Justin made me wish I could know him completely at all times. I wanted to go into his mind and dream his dreams. I wanted to go into his heart and never leave. Was that strange? Did that make me foolish or crazy?

To think that I tried to ignore
What I felt
What I knew
I could never
Stop this feeling

I wondered if he felt the same way. He was a lot better at this mushy stuff than I was. I wouldn't be surprised if he wrote me song. I wondered if he did, but I doubt it. Knowing Justin, he would've told me and forced me to play it at all times.

"I love you," I mumbled to his sleeping face and I didn't feel shy about it because he wasn't staring back at me, telling me all the right things and making me feel so vulnerable.

I don’t wanna fall in love
Just wanna have a little fun
Then you came and swept me up
And now I’m done, so done

I slipped from the bed, showered again, and changed into shorts and a t-shirt. It was nearly one in the afternoon by the time I exited the room quietly, to allow Justin to sleep. I crept downstairs and Steve and John were sitting in the living room, watching X-Men. They mumbled hellos and finished up their sandwiches. I was continued my way towards the kitchen, needing to refuel. I groaned inwardly when I spotted Rachel at the kitchen table with Joy, but Lynn was over by the island, making a sandwich. All three ladies looked up when I walked in. Lynn and Joy gave me smiles and Rachel just rolled her eyes.

"Afternoon sleepy head," Joy teased.

"Sorry," I said, "I don't usually sleep in this late, but I've been so tired lately -"

"Oh, we know," Lynn said, giving me a tiny wink, "The girlfriends always sleep late when they come visit Justin."

"Don't they," Joy laughed as well and it took me two seconds to feel myself clamming up with embarassment.

"Oh, no... We were just tired... From the beach and the motorcycle riding and stuff... We-"

"Sash, I like you," Lynn cut in again, "It's not my house, it's his. He's free to fondle who he wants."

"Oh god..." I mumbled to myself.

"She's so shy," Joy told Lynn, "Remember that other girl? What was her name?"

"Christine?" Lynn inquired.

"No, something with a 'D'..." she sighed, "Debra... Donna..."

"Denise?" Rachel threw in and I was confused.

"Yes! Denise," Joy said, turning back to Lynn, "Remember how she just came walking downstairs in his t-shirt and her underwear? No shame that girl."

"Which is why he dumped her," Lynn chuckled, "What a tramp." I decided the conversation wasn't for me, so I headed towards the fridge. "Wait a minute, you don't want a chicken sandwich?" Lynn asked me and I shrugged.

"I didn't realize there was a chicken sandwich," I told her.

"That's what I'm making for lunch," Lynn said, "The boys couldn't wait, so I made them PB and J."

"Okay... Thanks then." I stood awkwardly by the door for a moment. "So... Justin must've had a lot of girlfriends."

Lynn waved me off, "Girlfriends - no. Girls - yes. He had a very difficult time after Brit and was just puttin' the stick where it fit - if you know what I mean." I grimaced.

"I think I have an idea..."

"But don't worry, he's a good boy," Lynn quickly defended, "He just had a phase. Took a year to before him and Jessica got together. Four years strong with her and then he... met you." More awkward standing and I was rocking on my heels.

"Speaking of Jessica," Rachel interrupted the silence, "She's coming by to pick up her stuff." Lynn gave her a look.

"Well why are you telling me?" she asked, "Does Justin know?"

"I was gonna tell him last night, but I figured he'd be... busy," Rachel said, looking up at me briefly, "Besides, it's not a big deal. Her stuff's in the baby room." Baby room, I thought, not quite reaching that part of the Timberlake Mansion Tour.

"Well I just think that's a little... sudden," Lynn sighed as I mentally agreed with her, "Go tell him."

"I'm not stepping foot into his bedroom until it's been disinfected," Rachel smartly replied. I rolled my eyes as Lynn went to nag her.

"Umm... I'll tell him," I volunteered. Lynn haulted her rant and gave me a soft smile.

"Thank you, sweetheart," she told me, "If you're uncomfortable with her coming -"

"Oh, don't be silly," I said, waving her off, "It's Justin's opinion that matters." Lynn nodded.

"Well... okay," she told me, "Your sandwich will be ready when you get back down." I nodded, not missing the small smirk on Rachel's face as I turned to exit the kitchen. As I made my way upstairs, I glanced at all the closed bedroom doors, wondering where the baby's room could be. It had to be near since Justin's bedroom was at the end of the hall. I figured that him and Jessica shared it when she was around and monitor can only go so far...

I shook my head, worrying about something that wasn't significant. They weren't together and Justin wasn't going to have a baby. I was a messanger and Justin needed to get this message ASAP. I quietly turned the knob to his door and pushed it open. As I walked further into the room, Justin shifted on the bed, his tired eyes landing on mine as I shut the door behind me slowly by resting my back against it. He gave me a tired smile.

"Hey, I was looking for you," he told me sweetly, "C'mere." I playfully rolled my eyes, but obliged, taking slow steps towards the bed before climbing up it to lay beside him.

"I have a message for you," I said, settling against him. My chin was resting on his warm chest as he looked down at me.

He yawned. "And what's that?" I traced circles lazily along his stomach.

"Jessica's coming here," I told his abdomen as I kept my eyes away from his, "She's getting some of her stuff... from the baby's room." I slowly glanced up at him as he pet my hair. His expression was unchanging.

"When is she doing that?" he asked me.

"Today, apparently," I shrugged, "That's what Rachel said anyway." He rolled his eyes and I smirked. "Are you sure she's your favorite cousin?"

"When she's not being a douchebag, yes," he told me with a sigh, "Well I guess I better get out of bed then." I leaned back as he shifted to sit up. I fell against the pillows and watched his back muscles flex as he stood and stretched beside the bed, stark naked. He just let the sheets fall right off of him like it was nothing.

"Your buttcheeks are small," I observed and he chuckled and turned to face me.

"That happens when you don't have an ass to speak of," he joked, "Not that you would know anything about non-existant asses."

"Should I be offended?" I asked.

"Umm... I'm gonna go with 'no'," he smiled, "Your ass still hurtin'?" He winked with a cocky smirk.

"Yes, thanks for the bruises," I mumbled sarcastically.

"I think I should be thanking you, baby," he told me , "Don't worry though. I'll give you a massage later."

"And then bruise me up some more?" I said, wiggling my eyebrows comically. He chuckled as he made his way over to the bathroom.

"You know me so well, baby," he said over his shoulder as he disappeared into his bathroom. I sighed and fell against the bed as the water started to run from the shower. I focused on my breathing for a moment, trying to push down the bit of anxiety I felt when I thought of meeting Jessica today. I wondered if Rachel told her I was here. I wondered how much she hated me and if she'd try and make it known.

I'd probably whoop her ass just for looking at me dirty. She hurt Justin, which pissed me off, but I guess I should be happy. Her mistake gave me the best man I could ask for. He wouldn't have made his way to me if she hadn't screwed him over as badly as she did. I wondered if that bothered her every night, knowing that she messed this up for herself. I didn't want to rub it in her face though. I'm pretty sure that if I kept pushing Justin away, he'd eventually get tired of trying to love me and leave. I didn't want to think about that. I didn't want to think about not having him around. To go from making love to barely sharing glances would leave me in a state of depression that I could never get out of, especially if it were my own fault.

Thank you for not letting go
When I said let me go

"Baby!" Justin shouted from the shower suddenly, knocking me out of my thoughts.

"Yeah?" I called back, sitting up a little. When he didn't answer, I sighed and got out of the bed, trailing to the bathroom. When I turned the little corner, he was smiling with his head poking out of the shower door. I laughed and walked up towards him, giving his wet nose a tiny kiss. "What do you want?"

Thank you for timing
Thank your finding
Thank you for not believing me
Baby when I said...

"This shower's big enough for two," he told me. I rolled my eyes and backed away.

"I showered already," I said, "No can do."

"Sash..." he whined, giving me a pouty face, "I want you to shower with me..."

"Too bad," I said, "Showers are for getting clean and all you want to do is get dirrty."

He chuckled. "C'mon," he complained, "Do you want me to beg?"

"Justin -" I began.

"'Cause I will beg, baby," he told me softly, pushing the shower door back and stepping out.

"Justin, do not," I warned, feeling my defenses tumbling as he walked over to me, wet, naked, and unfairly gorgeous. He held my hands as he got on his knees in front of me. Puddles of water rested beneath his naked body as he looked up at me. I shook my head.

I don’t wanna fall in love
Just wanna have a little fun
Then you came and swept me up
And now I’m done, so done

"I'm begging, Sashy Washy," he told me gently, "I'm on my knees..."

"Get up, fool," I joked, but he just tilted his head and kissed my stomach and ribs through my t-shirt.

"I'm begging..." he said, hiking my shirt up some to place his lips against my bare navel, "I'm begging, baby..." My hands were on his head, watching him kiss all over my stomach, leaving wet spots along my skin. I sighed, feeling the flood in my panties. I had already lost.

Fallen madly deeply I
Surprised myself enough to find
That what’s begun
Is love
And now I’m done, so done
I’m done

"You get on my damn nerves," I said, pulling my shirt over my head defeatedly. Justin laughed and unbluckled my belt.

"I love you too," he smirked, unbuttoning and unzipping my shorts. I let him kiss me as he stood. I felt his grin against my lips and I hated that he knew I was easy when it came to him. I don't know why I even bothered fighting.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

An hour and a half later, we actually started to shower. I was going to be sore tomorrow and my head was pounding. Genius Justin was too busy trying to get us off that he didn't think about the little distance between the where I was bent over the sink and the medicine cabinet. One thrust and I was head butting it. If I didn't have an orgasm numbing me, I would've thrown a fit right there and then. Now as I watched him slipping a white t-shirt over his head while I held a bag of ice on my head, the pain is far too evident.

"You still hurtin'?" Justin asked sitting next to me. He replaced my hand with his own to hold the ice as I sighed.

"Feels better, but damn," I laughed and he chuckled a bit.

"I'll be more observant next time," he told me, "But you gotta admit... It was kinda worth it." I turned to face him slowly.

"I'm glad my near-concussion was worth you getting off."

"Worth me getting off?" he questioned, "Last I check, I wasn't the only one."

"Whatever," I pouted, "I don't have a lump do I?" He lifted the bag and inspected my scalp before gently laying it back in place.

"Doesn't look like it," he said, "You should be fine, baby." He kissed my temple, "I'm sorry I hurt you."

"It was my fault too," I told him, hugging his waist, "But I'll admit it... It was worth it."

"I knew it!" Justin cheered as I giggled, but we both quieted as his doorbell sounded. We sat for a moment before we heard an array of voices from downstairs.

"You gonna see who that is?" I asked him, knowing that he knew by the solemn look on his face.

"I'll go check," he told me, placing my hand on the ice bag so he could get up. He stole a glance in his mirror that he probably thought I didn't see before exiting his room. I sat for a moment holding ice on my head before I felt the sudden urge to get up. I dumped the ice bag in his bathroom sink before checking my reflection. My white linen dress stopped at my knees and flowed loosely at the bottom as it fit tightly around my top. My hair was a little damp, but curly in a cute way. Silver earrings and Justin's silver charm bracelet shrone brightly on my wrist.

It was Jessica downstairs and I felt it in my bones. I knew Justin was frontin' with his relaxed act. Nobody wanted to see someone who broke their heart. He needed support from someone who really loved him... I touched the heart charm and smiled softly before checking my reflection. I was comfortable and confident in my look and my love for Justin. I strolled out of his bedroom and towards the stairs, feeling my confidence falling a few notches as my heart tightened in my chest. There were voices, Lynn's, Rachel's, the televion's... I could barely hear any of it as I tried to find Justin's voice instead.

I took a deep breath when he was still unheard and took the stairs slowly. I was halfway down before the talking all stopped. I looked up from my feet nervously to see many pair of eyes on me. Rachel was glaring, Justin was smirking, Lynn was looking awkward and uncomfortable.... And Jessica...

I reached the bottom of the stairs and she never tore her eyes from my face. I held her gaze before she blinked and looked me over quickly, up and down. I felt disected, but I knew that it didn't matter what Jessica was thinking because Justin stepped up in front of her and comically rolled his eyes before taking my right hand. He mouthed 'thank you' and I nodded as he turned to face Jessica who was now gawking at Justin with the same confused expression.

"Jess, this is Sasheirah," Justin said with a bit of pride, "My girlfriend." Jessica didn't really put much effort into hiding the drop in her face at the mention of my title. I felt all warm hearing him say it and squeezing my hand gently as he spoke. Jessica looked like she would puke.

"Well...umm..." she stammered, "I guess that makes you the... Philly 'friend'." She extended her hand to me. I hesitantly released Justin's hand to shake hers. It was a brief, but strong handshake. I wondered if she was trying to intimidate me.

"It's nice to meet you too," I said with a lighter sarcasm than I usually dish out. Justin took my hand again, intertwined our fingers, and cleared his throat.

"So... Are you guys hungry? I'm cooking," Lynn suddenly broke out. Jessica plastered a smile on her face and turned to her.

"I could eat," she replied, "Especially if you're cookin', Lynn." Rachel sighed heavily and hooked her arm through Jessica's as Lynn led the way to the kitchen. She turned and glared at me before her and Jessica continued on. I went to follow, but Justin pulled me back and waited for them and the boys to disappear into the kitchen.

"What-" I started, only to be whipped around and kissed so hard that my lips were at first smashed against my teeth. He massaged them down with slow, passionate french kisses that made me almost take him on the floor where we stood, but he pulled back before I could.

"You are the sexiest, funniest, most intelligent, and beautiful woman I've ever been with," he told me softly, kissing my nose before leading us towards the kitchen. I was still a bit woozy and horny over the kiss, so I was confused.

"Okay..." I said haulting my movement mid-dining room. The chit-chat from the kitchen could be heard from here, so I backed us up a little towards the living room. "What the hell was that for?" I asked. He shrugged.

"I love you," he said simply, "Having her around only makes how lucky I am more apparent." I felt all mushy inside as he said those words and I was waiting for the Hallmark bow to appear over his head. He should seriously write the lines for their greeting cards.

"I love you too," I decided on before tip toeing to kiss his lips gently. He smiled against my mouth before I pulled back and he chuckled.

"You are so damn short," he teased as we headed back towards the kitchen. I punched his arm and he pouted, pretending to be hurt. I was nervous again facing Jessica. Something in me wanted to be perfect and make her jealous. Another part was trying not to care at all.

"You alright?" Justin asked concerned, his hand against the swinging kitchen door as he prepared to hold it open for me. I nodded, smiled, and sighed.

"Yeah, I'm fine," I said. He gave me a disbelieving look, but I was too busy mentally prepping myself to even acknowledge it.

I needed to relax. She didn't attack me when I came downstairs. She didn't really say anything that mean or bitter. She just stared a lot. I can deal with staring. There was nothing to worry about.

Justin smiled at me softly from across the table. I smiled back. We held eyes briefly before Steve asked him to cut his piece of steak and Justin happily obliged, teasing him about needing to gain some muscles. John sat on his other side to complete the Justin sandwich that caused me to be sitting next to Jessica instead of Justin. It wasn't too bad with the entire family around the table and Rachel sitting beside John, far away from me. Lynn and Jessica were discussing a new movie Jessica was apparently filming in Las Vegas while I scooped up some mashed potatoes from my plate. They weren't nearly as smooth as Justin's attempt back at home, but they were well seasoned and delicious nonetheless.

The day had gone surprisingly well. Jessica ate lunch with us and played out back with the dogs. Steve and John seemed to have liked her enough to miss her a bit as they ran outside together. Justin stuck with me for most the day, holding my hand occasionally when him and Jessica were talking. I didn't miss the glances she gave our intertwined fingers, but she didn't speak on it. We all joked and she asked about my nursing job. There were no subtle digs or sly remarks. She even jokingly told Rachel to stop pouting as she frowned at all of us getting along.

If I was going to be honest here, I actually liked Jessica. She seemed really nice and even made me laugh here and there. She was very sweet with Justin, clearly not over him. It made me a bit uncomfortable, but it wasn't unbearably awkward to watch. I knew that I would have that same longing look in my eyes if I had to watch Justin love someone else... There was a time when I was the one left behind, so I sympathized and her kindness towards me made me almost want to pull her aside and apologize for all the craziness.

But I figured I'd let it be. She was dealing with it at her own pace and didn't seem too torn up that he had found love in me. She was just adjusting to the change of their relationship status and understandingly so.

At any rate, we were all gathered around Justin's huge dining room table and it looked like Thanksgiving with all the family around. Lynn broiled some steaks and the ladies helped to prepare the rest of the meal. Macaroni and cheese, mashed potatoes, greens, and sweet potato pie. There was some corn on the cob as well, but it had been devoured. Everybody was chattering happily, but Justin and I were hardly speaking. It was a comfortable, silent conversation between us in the form of small smiles. I'd occasionally slip my flip flop off and rub his ankle with foot. It tickled him and we'd chuckle lightly at our inside joke. It was nice to be so... comfortable. It was strange that I dreaded this - dreaded the idea of us. Jessica used to scare me, his family used to scare me, and even our love in general sent me packing at times, but for some reason - it felt so silly now to be afraid of anything.

"It's a shame that you couldn't get to Millington this week," Jessica's voice broke into my thoughts when I looked up and realized she was talking to me. "Grandma Sadie makes the best peach cobbler." I blinked and swallowed the mashed potatoes in my mouth.

"Really?" I asked simply, "I didn't know that." I felt a knot in my stomach at the mention of Millington and his grandmother. That was still a challenge we haven't quite dealt with yet.

"Yeah," Jessica enthused, "I almost died when I had it. Justin begged her to make me a whole one to take back home with me 'cause I loved it so much." Her gazed shifted to Justin and my eyes followed. He smiled at me awkwardly.

"That's really sweet," I commented, giving him a soft smile of reassurance, "I can't wait to taste it one of these days."

"Soon," Justin smiled, more at ease, "I'll work around your schedule."

"Oh, that reminds me, Justin, I got a phone call from the foundation," Lynn interrupted, but I soon forgot the conversation and turned back to Jessica as Lynn carried on.

"His grandmother is the sweetest woman I've ever met," Jessica told me with a warm smile, "If you think Lynn can cook, you wait until you get a piece of Sadie's cobbler." I chuckled lightly at her enthusiasm.

"Well, I'll be sure to tell her you're still raving about it," I said. Jessica gave me a sweet smile.

"She'll love you," Jessica told me softly, "I mean - Justin's so happy now. That's all anybody ever wanted." I nodded and gave her a tiny smile.

"Thanks..." I mumbled awkwardly before Jessica's eyes glossed over and she suddenly excused herself from the table. The entire family quieted and everybody turned to stare at me before Rachel shot me a glare and hurried after Jessica's retreating figure.

"What happened?" Justin asked and I shrugged.

"I don't know," I said, "She just got up." Lynn looked at Justin and back at me. The kids went back to their food before Paul shrugged.

"Maybe she really had to use the bathroom?" Paul suggested and Justin still stared me down.

"You didn't say anything, did you?" he asked, but it sounded more like an accusation. I sat back in my seat defensively, not understanding why her up and leaving had to be my fault.

"No, I didn't," I said curtly, "Why would you assume that I did?"

"Because she looked upset," Justin explained and I crossed my arms over my chest.

"So that just has to mean I upset her?" I asked.

"Well, she was talking to you, Sash. It makes sense," he huffed.

"I hate to disappoint you, Justin, but the last thing I said to her was 'thank you' before she got up and ran off. You should think a little better of me." I stood from my seat, feeling myself growing angry and frustrated by all the staring and silence. "Thanks for dinner, Lynn." She nodded more to herself than me before I walked swiftly from the dining area. I cut through the living room and took the stairs quickly to the bedroom. I slammed the door a lot harder than I wanted to before I practically stomped over to the bathroom.

I made my way to the sink, running some water over my hands before washing my face. I took deep breaths after drying up, still mad and bit embarrassed that Justin would accuse me of hurting Jessica's feelings. A part of me, however, was mad that he cared so much in the first place. It was childish, but a pang of jealous shot through my chest when I thought of how defensive he had gotten over her. I sighed and looked at myself in the mirror. I needed to relax. He made an assumption he shouldn't have made, but I didn't want to overanalyze it to the point where it was ten times bigger than necessary. I nodded to myself, agreeing that calming down was a good idea, before I exited the bathroom.

I decided to change into a light pink nightie I had I packed before walking over to the cabinet that concealed his television across from the bed. I opened it to reveal the flat screen inside before grabbing the remote on a shelf beneath it. I jumped onto his king-sized bed and sat back against the pillows Indian style. After flipping through the channels, I settled on HBO, which was playing 'Eagle Eye'. There was nothing like some Shia LaBeouf to distract me from thoughts of stupid Justin or bipolar Jessica.

I was halfway through the movie before I realized that I was still sitting up here, alone and uninterrupted. Was he not going to look to see where I ran off? I wondered, glancing at his closed bedroom door for a moment, waiting for him to tap on it gently before stepping inside with remorseful eyes. My dreams were crushed after a minute or two of nothing happening. I turned back to the movie, but now I was too anxious to really pay attention. Was he with Jessica? Was he even aware that I was really mad? I did stomp off after all. That had to have given him some idea that I was pissed.

I bit my bottom lip, too prideful to grab a robe and head downstairs to find him myself. I would rather wait it out and see what happens. I stared at the television screen, struggling to get back into movie mode. I sighed and flipped off the television, sliding off his bed to shut the cabinet. I stood in the middle of the room, trying to figure out what to do that didn't involve leaving the going back downstairs... I glanced over to the bathroom. You could bathe, I thought. I haven't done that in so long. Showers were always more convenient. I sighed and pulled my nightie over my head, dragging my naked self to the bathroom.

I made a beeline for the spacious white tub, kneeling down a bit to turn the silver faucets and get the water running. I plunged up the drain and stood, allowing the perfectly warm water to fill the tub before heading towards the towel cabinet. Justin kept some bubble bath stuff in there as well and I grabbed the bottle before heading back towards the tub. I poured some of the white, thick liquid beneath the steady flow of water. I was instantly hit with the vanilla scent it held and smiled at all the luscious bubbles forming a thick layer of white. I was excited to have a bubble bath, feeling like a kid again. I swept my eyes around the room for any signs of a rubber duck, secretly disappointed that there wasn't one in sight. It would've been fun to revert back to childhood bathing days with a duck or a submarine to entertain me.

I shrugged it off though, feeling a little more at ease, as I placed the bubble bath soap back in its place and made my way over to the mirror above the sinks. I pinned my hair up and inspected my naked body. I wrinkled my nose at unflattering parts then headed back to the towel cabinet to grab a washcloth and body wash I had forgotten. By the time I trailed myself back to the tub, it was full. I turned the faucets off and stepped inside, slowly lowering my body into the plush bubbles. A sigh fell from my lips as I placed the body wash and washcloth on the edge of the tub and sunk back against the tubwall.

I was just going to soak a while, relax my muscles and thoughts. I closed my eyes; silently wishing I had some music, but relaxed nonetheless. Clare would be jealous. There was enough room in this tub for an army. There were jets on the side that I didn't even try to use, in fear I'd break something, but the contours of the tub seemed to fit my body perfectly as I leant back and rested my head. I was moving my arms back and forth beneath the bubbles, creating a ripple effect that touched my whole body. I stretched my toes as far as they would go, but I still couldn't reach the edge. That made me a giggle a bit to myself, but I went back to silence a moment later.

I was so relaxed that I almost drifted to sleep before I heard the bedroom door opening, closing, and locking. I sat up a bit as shuffling continued in the other room. I heard Justin sigh heavily before the bed creaked. I rolled my eyes, confirming it was just him as my previous anger rose again. I settled back against the tub, allowing my eyes to shut - trying to block out his presence - but the bed creaked again and his footsteps came towards the bathroom until...

"Hey," he greeted softly. I didn't open my eyes nor did I respond when he entered the room. I heard his footsteps getting closer and closer. He sighed deeply and tapped the side of the tub with his foot. "I said 'hey'," he informed my silent figure. I ignored him again, hearing him grunt sounding as if he were sitting down. His cologne washed over me as a small gust of wind blew with his movements. I opened my eyes and he was kneeling right next to the tub, staring at me with a tiny pout on his face.

"You're ruining my peace of mind," I told him bitterly. He didn't respond, but he leant over as if to kiss me, making me turn away immediately to avoid the contact. He had the nerves to groan in annoyance.

"Sash, are you really that mad?" he asked, resting his elbows on the tub's edge, "It wasn't even an argument."

"You accused me of something I didn't do in front of your family like I was some child," I griped, "If that's not justification to be angry, then your lack of remorse sure is."

"Okay, then I'm sorry," he shrugged, "I don't know what else to say." I rolled my eyes, slapping his hand away as he tried to dip it into my bath water.

"You don't have to say a damn thing," I grumbled, "You and your bogus apology can leave me alone so I can relax."

"I didn't come up here to fight with you," he raised an annoyed brow, "I came up here to relax with my girl. Jessica was just crying and crying and I had to sit there and listen-"

"That's your problem," I groaned, really not caring, "You were the one who was so deeply concerned anyway, so don't complain now."

"You're mad 'cause I cared that she was upset?" It was more of statement than a question.

"I'm upset because you jumped down my throat for no damn reason. All because Jessica's bipolar ass decided it was time to cry," I sighed, "For the love of god, Justin, please leave."

"It's my bathroom," he childishly pointed out, "And she's not bipolar. She was just upset -"

"I don't care," I interrupted and he threw his arms up in the air in frustration.

"And you wonder why I asked if you upset her!" he said, raising his voice, "God, Sash, you don't like her, so if she's talking to you and is suddenly fleeing the premises in tears - what am I going to think?"

"First off, I do like Jessica, for your information," I said pointedly, even though it felt weird to admit, "And secondly, I'm a bigger person than that. You need to be checking on your cousin who spent the entire night shooting me dirty looks and whispering shit to Jessica. You didn't see that, now did you? Hell, if I was going to make anybody cry, it would've been Rachel's dumbass."

"I did see that and I just finished talking to her about it, so there you go," he stated smugly, "And secondly, how am I suppose to know that you liked her? I thought you were just being polite."

"Oh and then in the middle of dinner, I'm just gonna hurt her feelings and make her cry?" I asked rhetorically, "Does that even make sense, Justin?"

"I don't know. People do dumb shit all the time," he shrugged, "She could've said something to you and you said something back..."

"I don't remember you asking if Jessica hurt my feelings," I mumbled, pouting involuntarily, "I really don't feel like having this argument with you. If I could get a moment to myself, that would be great."

"No," he said stubbornly, "Sash, whenever I leave you alone angry, it gets worse. I'm gonna sit right here until you calm down."

"I'm gonna punch you in the balls in five fucking seconds," I threatened, but he was unimpressed and unmoving. I rolled my eyes and sat back against the tub wall, completely rigid and nowhere near relaxed. I could feel him staring at me a long while as I tried to block him out. I finally gave up with an irritated growl. I grabbed my washcloth and dipped it in the water before grabbing my body wash. I poured a little of the floral scented wash onto my towel before placing it back on tub's edge. I began to wash my arms and neck. He kept staring as I washed over my chest and skipped down to washing my legs. As I leant over to reach, Justin shifted beside the tub, dipping his hand into the water behind me. I felt him moistening my back and I sighed as his fingers skimmed over my spine.

"I'm sorry," he said softly, kissing my shoulder. I rolled my eyes, but it felt so good to have him close.

"Are you?" I asked as he reached in front of me and took the washcloth from my hands. He pressed his lips to my cheek before gingerly running them along my jaw until they reached my ear.

"Yes," he finally answered, kissing my lobe, "I love you..." I closed my eyes as his breath warmed my skin. He took the soapy cloth and washed my back, still leaning over me, kissing my ear, neck, and shoulders every now and then.

"I love you too," I finally relented, "I'm not even mad anymore. I just wanted you to be sorry." He chuckled a little and I smiled too.

"You love to watch me suffer, don't you?" he teased, "You're a sick woman."

"You know me so well..." I muttered as his hands dipped slowly towards my lower back and up again, coming around to the front of me. He washed over my collarbones and down the valley of my breasts. His hands disappeared beneath the bubbles as he washed over my stomach before coming back up to wash my chest. He lingered longer than necessary; the textured cloth and his hand behind it electrified my skin. Even the bath water felt better with him nearby and I glanced up at him only to find his gaze on me.

"What are you thinking?" he asked curiously. I shrugged a bit as he washed over my neck and shoulders.

"I'm thinking there's room in here for two," I answered honestly. He gave me a gentle smirk.

"Is that an invitation?" he asked, knowing the answer.

"Yes," I answered softly, not in the mood to tease much longer. He released me, handing me my towel so he could stand. He stripped himself of his t-shirt and jeans before his underwear and socks were soon discarded as well. I scooted up a bit so he could climb in behind me. Once he was settled, I slid back between his open legs, my back flush against his warm chest. He reached in front of me and dragged some bubbles over chest, hiding my breasts from view. I giggled a bit when his nails accidentally tickled my belly as he played around.

"You're far too ticklish," he said, the vibrations of his voice reverberating against my back. I snuggled a little closer.

"I can't help it," I sighed, "This feels good."

"It does," he agreed, scooping up some water to wash away the suds he had placed over me earlier. "I can't remember the last time I actually bathed in this thing."

"Really?" I asked, craning my neck to look up at him. He nodded, kissing my temple.

"I don't have time to bathe," he told me, "I shower all the time."

"Ditto," I said, turning forward to watch his hands skim over the water's surface. I placed my hands over his and placed them on my stomach, smoothing them upward slowly. I closed my eyes when I rested them beneath my breasts, allowing him to cup me tenderly. I just wanted to feel him everywhere. He made me so comfortable, warm, and turned on at the same time.

"See, you're starting," Justin said softly as my hands released his to give him freedom to massage my breasts, "I was just trying to bathe." My hands rested on his thighs, rubbing along them.

"Do you want to stop?" I breathed, a little distracted by his groping. I already knew the answer to that. He was growing hard against my back, hidden beneath a mask of bubbles, but I felt him.

"I didn't say all that," he kissed my shoulder as he spoke, tweaking my nipples between his thumbs and forefingers. I arched back into him a little. He groaned from the pressure against him. The feel of his wet, warm lips against my shoulder to my neck made me tremble before he freed his left hand to rest it against my cheek. He tilted my head towards his and I opened my eyes for a moment to watch him. His thumb traced my lips as he gazed down at them. I turned my body towards him, a bit impatient as I moved upward to plant my mouth on top of his.

It wasn't until our tongues touched that I realized that I missed the taste of him. All day, I barely got a peck on the lips with Jessica and family around. Up until our little fight, we got nothing but playful nudges and ankle tickling in. I kissed him harder, mashing our mouths together as we moaned simultaneously. I broke the kiss for just a moment, allowing room to breathe and enough time for me to straddle his waist. The water sloshed around us as I hurriedly caged him between my legs and I moaned out loud when I rested on him. I almost forgot we were naked and the unexpected contact was an unexpected bonus.

"Don't be surprised," Justin taunted, a small smirk on his face, "That's what you do to me, baby." I leant down to kiss him mouth, grinding on him enough to make us both shake. Justin's lips latched onto my collarbones and traveled up my neck in a long trail of wet kisses. He bit me over my pulse and the mixture of pain and pleasure shot right from my neck to in-between my legs.

"Do you want me to take care of that for you?" I asked softly. His tongue lapped over my bitten flesh while my hands dipped in the warm water between us, grabbing hold of his solid length.

He moaned lightly and it was almost too much. He had to lean back a bit and sigh. I watched his face contort as I tugged him tightly from base to tip. It was a slow, deliberate stroke that allowed a small whimper to fall from his parted lips.

"Yeah, baby, just like that..." he encouraged, his eyelids sinking lower, his gaze never shifting from my face.

I licked my lips, my mouth watering at the thought of tasting him. I swear to god, Justin was the only man who could making jerking off a luxury that I was salivated for. I was hungry for him and I stroked him faster, holding him tightly.

"Is that what you want?" I asked, knowing damn well it's exactly what he wants.

"Shit," Justin hissed softly, barely audible through his heavy breathing, "Fucking...yes..." I giggled a bit at his incoherent sentence before I leant against him to kiss his mouth, pumping him faster as he groaned against my lips. The water sloshed chaotically from my movements and he gripped my waist with his large, warm hands, choking on a moan in his throat.

"Sash..." he sighed my name, kissing my shoulder and holding me closer as I continued to jerk him beneath the bubbles. I wanted him to get off first. He has always made me cum first. He was big on watching me curl my toes and call his name, but I loved to watch him more. There was a great sense of pride when I got him off. Watching him lean his head back against the tub, struggling to keep eyes focused on me before finally giving up, closing them, and just feeling me pump his throbbing dick...

I twisted my wrist as I stroked him up and down, holding him hostage until I got my way. He licked his parted lips and his breathing turned to quiet gasps for air as he mumbled obscenities.

"Baby, please..." I pleaded, growing anxious from his sounds and the tenseness of his body. "Come for me..." Another breathy moan and he sat up and hugged me to his body, jerking his hips to meet my stroke. The sounds of pleasure he shamelessly emitted from his lips as he finally came made my entire body spasm with his. He breathed against the crook of neck, holding my waist as he tried to regain his composure. I stroked him a final time, firmly and slowly, making him whimper once more. The faucet was dripping a little, drop by drop filling the room with an echoing sound. I could hear and feel him breathing more normally as I drew lazy circles against his back, tracing over his tattoo.

"We need to fight more often," he mumbled against my flesh, "The sex is always better."

"Was that sex?" I asked innocently. "I don't remember coming with you." He still looked a little dazed, but he was smirking as he leant back to face me.

"Baby, you know I don't disappoint," he stated smugly, showing his perfect row of teeth behind his pretty pink lips. I just thought of how gorgeous he was while he was running his hands up my stomach and over my breasts. He just teasingly ran his hands over my wet body, down my back and over my ass before resting at my hips. "Up." he commanded and I did as told, stepping out of the tub as he followed suit. The room chilled me once I was out of the water.

"It's cold," I commented, hugging myself. I didn't sense it coming, but Justin's hand offered my ass a firm smack that reverberated off the walls and heated me entirely.

"Better?" he asked, chuckling at my shocked expression.

"Damn," I hissed, rubbing stinging cheek. He playfully rolled his eyes, pressing himself up against my back. He snuck his hands down between us to grab my ass and spank it again.

"Are you complaining?" he asked and I was sure I wasn't going to now that I could feel him against my back, hard as ever like I never got him off. This boy was a damn rabbit - one fuck after the next without much hesitation. I wasn't complaining at all.

"No, baby," I said softly, turning around to face with innocent eyes as I stood on my tiptoes. My lips kissed his chin before he leaned down a bit to help me out, "It felt so damn good." Our lips brushed as I spoke before he sucked my bottom lip into his mouth and kissed me. It was passionate and lust filled, but slow and lasting. He nibbled on my full lips and smirked when I stumbled a bit, as we broke apart and walked out into the bedroom.

"Damn, you can't even walk straight," he teased and I sucked my teeth.

"Don't flatter yourself," I told him, "You ain't shit." He raised a challenging brow as we neared his bed. I had a feeling that I shouldn't have said that, but he smirked.

"I ain't shit?" he questioned, amused as I backed towards the bed, still facing him. I shrugged nonchalantly.

"You're cute and all..." I teased, the back of my legs hitting the bed. Justin was still sauntering towards.

"Cute?" he inquired, wrapping his arm around my waist to pull me right against his chest. He held my gaze as he leant down, barely grazing our lips as he spoke. "Am I still...cute?"

"Absolutely adorable," I breathed. He smiled.

"I'll show you cute, baby," he said, sucking my bottom lip into his mouth before kissing me a little rougher than usual. His kiss was demanding. I tried to match the passion behind it, but his hand slipping between my thighs and into the depths of my pussy folds. I broke the kiss when my knees buckled from his touch. His fingers my rubbed my clit fervently. He was on a mission and as I fell against his chest, moaning softly and struggling to stand, I knew it would be accomplished.

"Not yet, baby," Justin whispered to me, "Hold it." It was a first for Justin to ask me to hold off coming, especially when he was rubbing my pussy like he couldn't wait to watch me bust.

"I can't," I breathed and I couldn't. Not with him on me like this.

"Baby, please..." he pleaded and I tried. I tried to tighten up my inner walls, but it only made it feel that much better. He must've sensed my struggle and decided to give me a break, releasing my pussy from his skillful hands. I was pulsating rapidly. If I walked hard enough I'd probably cum anyway.

"You're trying to kill me," I complained when he nuzzled his face into my neck.

"You'd die happy though, wouldn't you?" he teased. I still couldn't stand up properly, holding onto him as he spoke.

"Yes," I sighed, "If I get to cum first." He smirked.

"We'll see," he told me simply, "Get on the bed." I raised a brow at his commanding attitude, but Justin in full control was a bit of a turn on.

"A little bossy, aren't we?" I questioned, but I was walking towards the bed anyway. Apparently I had said the wrong thing because he slapped my ass even harder than he had before.

He gave me his infamous lopsided grin that was boyish, but sexy as all hell. "Just a little." I rolled my eyes.

"You're gonna bruise me," I commented, but he didn't say a word, watching me climb onto the bed on all fours.

"Stay like that," he spoke softly from behind me. I wasn't in much of a position, but I stayed put, doggie style. My ass was in the air and I used my arms as leverage to look behind me. He was walking towards me, slowly. His demeanor had changed. There wasn't anything boyish or goofy about the man behind me. I had seen so many sexy sides of Justin, but he was a little darker tonight. A little more rough and demanding. My pussy shook just from his stare. He was checking me out like I was honestly something he wanted to eat.

Eat? I moaned lightly at the prospect of his tongue and my pussy coming in contact with one another. I was aching for him to do it now; hell, I was dying for him to do anything, but he was still checking me out. He had the nerves to be stroking his cock like I wouldn't gladly do it for him. I licked my lips and lowered my head onto the bed, reaching my hand beneath me. I slowly slid my fingers over my swollen pussy lips, feeling how wet I was. I moaned at my own touch, slipping my fingers into my molten center.

My intention was just to make him as jealous as I felt watching him touch what I wanted most. I ended up relishing in the moment. I had never masturbated in front of anyone before, but Justin had to be so sexy that when he wasn't touching me, I had to touch myself just to keep from screaming. It was unfair and a little embarrassing to see him licking his lips and watching me instead of taking over. I felt myself getting bashful, but I couldn't stop; not with him staring so intensively at me, still stroking himself without an ounce of embarrassment in his body.

I spread my lower lips to him, heated and impatient knowing that his throbbing dick was just an inch away. I wasn't into begging, but Justin could make the most prideful woman desperate.

"Please..." I sighed, my fingers not enough, "Justin..." Despite the fact that my hands weren't enough, I was still fucking myself, trying to get off. It wasn't until he pushed my hand down that I gave up on my lame attempts to fill a void only he could fill. He paused for just a moment before he placed the head of his penis against my throbbing clit, sliding it along my moist pussy lips.

"Is that what you want?" he asked, sounding in full control of himself as my mind clouded over, unable to think clearly at all.

"Yes..." I answered as best I could, but it was such a light voice that I wasn't sure if he caught it in-between my whimpering. My lips were parted slightly, breathing slow, languid breaths, unable to concentrate on anything but the steady glide of him against me in the most delicious fashion.

"Tell me what you want..." he sighed behind me and I bit my bottom lip again, moaning deep in my throat when he pushed himself forward, past my folds, but not in me.

"I want you..." I moaned, but he continued to tease me, rubbing his dick where I needed it most, but never penetrating me. I was drowning in my low moans, my center overflowing with desperate need. I wanted to feel him so bad. I wanted my walls stretched and filled up perfectly...

"You want me to what?" Another centimeter in. The tip of his dick was pressed right below my pearl. As much as I was quivering, this was the part I hated. I wasn't the queen of dirty talk and no matter what filth ran through my mind; I could never quite voice them out. Guys were always happy to have me naked and moaning underneath them, but Justin had this twisted need to be called the Sex King before he bothers fucking me.

"Justin, please..." I all but cried out, trying to push my hips back against him to force him into me. He was too quick though, spanking my ass as a punishment.

"Hey now," he teased, sliding his dick along my slick folds again. "If you want big girl things, you have to use big girl words." Had I not been two seconds away from causing a Tsunami with the juices flowing through me, I would've smacked him upside the head for that.

He spanked my ass for the millionth time, getting impatient. "I want..." I breathed out, but he pushed himself into me a little more, getting the head in. I grabbed the sheet beneath my palms. "Oh, god..." He pulled the tip out just to push it back in again and again... and a-fucking-gain...

I pushed my ass against him, trying to get him to slip up and slip in, but his breath just grew jaged for a moment before he held my hips in place. I was gripping the sheets in frustration now as he pulled his dick away completely before he knelt behind me.

He kissed my ass gently, grabbing handfuls of my luscious flesh. I sighed as he blew over my wetness and cooled me momentarily before his hot tongue replaced where his dick had teased. He plunged deep into my folds, making smooth circles over my pearl before he sucked it into his mouth.

"Shit, shit, shit..." I cursed, my mind drawing a blank when he released me with a 'smack' before lapping my juices right back up again with his unwavering tongue. He continued to feast on me until I was damn near in tears as he hummed against my clit, making me grab fistfuls of the bedspread. I could hear his tongue tasting every nook and cranny I had to offer, sucking and licking like he couldn't get enough of me.

"Oh my..." My face pressed into the bed as he slopped me up with his wild tongue. I was quivering uncontrollably. I didn't have it in me to hold onto my orgasm and even if I wanted to, my efforts to do so would be continually endangered by his unrelenting mouth. He was sucking, biting, and licking every inch of my pussy and there was nothing I could do but bury my face into the bed to muffle my cries. There were still people in his house, even though we were tucked into the furthest corner of his home. I guess that's why Justin chose this room - he knew how loud he could make a woman.

My hips bucked against his tongue as a feeling so indescribably beautiful shot through me, from my center to my toes, blurring my vision momentarily as my back arched. A moan rumbled in my throat as the warmth passed through me way too quickly for my liking, leaving me weak. I dropped my body onto the bed, unable to keep myself up. My eyes were still closed as the finishing waves of my orgasm shook me.

Justin chuckled deeply, his lips leaving a wet trail over my ass and up my spine. He kissed both of my shoulders before kissing the back of my neck. His warm body lined my back and I felt his solid length against me; strained and looking for release.

"Am I still cute?" he asked, smiling against my skin.

"Yes," I teased "That wasn't exactly what I was going for, but it'll do." I sighed in content when kissed along the side of my neck.

"Don't talk shit," he hummed to me, "You can't even move." I smiled, not being able to argue. I was tired and felt like mush, but I managed to roll over beneath him, facing him with a smile on my face. He settled between my legs, dick against my thigh and throbbing. I reached between us as he held my gaze as I stroked just the tip of him, his eyes fluttering shut briefly at the sensation.

"I still need to feel you, baby," I moaned and it was so true that my pussy twitched. I stroked the tip of his dick again when he didn't respond, sitting up slowly to kiss along his neck and jaw as I touched him. He sighed in my ear as I bit down on his neck, marking him like he did me. His mark was much more visible against his peachy tone as I ran my tongue over it, tasting his salty-sweet skin.

"Wait," he panted, not giving me much of a choice as he climbed off of me to sit on the bed, against he headboard. I turned to watch him settle before making my way over to him. I straddled his waist without an invitation, feeling him pressing right against me perfectly. I moaned in content; he felt so right - like our bodies just fit no matter how we were attached to one another.

"Thank you," I said, brushing my nose against his, "My pussy will never be the same." He laughed heartily, making his body jerk against mine.

"You don't have to thank me," he told me softly against my mouth, "Just return the favor." I leisurely sucked his bottom lip into my mouth as my hips moved in a delicious grind. Our tongues twisted in slow, sensual circles that matched the movements of my hips. We took a moment to breathe and I reached between us, unable to wait any longer. I positioned him at my opening, still wet and hot. I watched him look at me in anticipation as I lowered myself on him languidly, my breathing hitching with his. My eyes slid shut involuntarily. He was in me fully... deep... I didn't move for a moment, unable to do anything but sigh at the sensation.

"Fuck..." Justin trembled slightly as he got a firm grip on my ass with both of his oversized hands. My hips got a mind of their own, moving in a slow, circular motions again. He grunted; I bit my bottom lip. It felt so damn good to finally have him buried deep into me.

Still, my hips lifted slowly from his, leaving just the tip of him in me before swirling back down the length of him. We both moaned out. I rode him hard, but slow at first before he slid up down the bed, laying himself flat on his back to give me more room to ride him like I wanted. With my hands on his chest for balance, I rode him without any restriction. I wasn't embarrassed by the open view he had of me. I wasn't as bashful when he reached up to play with my breasts as I smacked my hips to his in passionate thrusts.

My language was profane, but he loved it and matched my obscenities with his own. I slowed to my previous pace, lifting my ass up to rotate my pussy around the tip of his dick again. It was torture to me, my walls calling for their filling, but it drove him crazy. He loved the tease and sensation of gliding into me all over again.

"Oh god..." he panted before reaching up and hugging me to his body. He used his legs as leverage to pound into me from underneath. I gasped and called his name over and over, feeling him ramming deeply into me, his warm body mashed up against my moist skin. Our hips were slapping, echoing with the cries from my throat and the grunts in his before he finally stopped to rest his hips. I grinded myself onto him, trying to feel as good as before. My pussy was dripping and I could feel him throbbing in me.

"Shit, Jay," I sighed, pausing my movements all together as we fought to gain normal breathing, "I keep forgetting we're not alone." He groaned when he suddenly sat up, supporting my back as he flipped us over, never detaching our hips.

"Don't worry about it," he mumbled against my ear as he settled us down.

"But-" I moaned and forgot my argument when he thrust his hips into mine to silence me. He hooked his arms behind my knees and pushed my legs up, leaning over my body. He plunged even deeper into me.

"You...were saying?" Justin sighed, unleashing his assault on me before I even got a chance to answer. His hips moved as fluidly in the bedroom as they did on the dance floor and the measure of control he had amazed me. He was pressing his hips as deeply into mine as he could. My stomach knotted up as I whimpered. He gradually gained speed and I clung to him as he mercilessly tore me apart. I tried to be quiet - I really did - but I found myself a notch away from screaming.

"Shhh..." Justin shushed me, grinning as he slowed. I wanted to protest. I wanted him to keep fucking me, but he stopped anyway.

"I told you..." I breathed, impatiently moving me hips against his. "You said it was okay..." He sat up a bit, letting my legs loose. I bent my knees and lifted myself against him. He groaned, but held my hips down.

"You have to be quiet if we're gonna finish," he told me gently, but he was being a tease, his fingers skimming over where we were connected. "And I know you wanna finish..."

"I'll be quiet," I promised, trying to get him back on top of me, but he grabbed my hands and pinned them down above my head, ramming his hips into me as he did so. I muffled a cry and he raised a brow.

"I don't know if you can handle this," he teased, rolling his hips into mine. I closed my eyes momentarily before locking my gaze with his when he stopped.

"I can handle it," I breathed, rolling my hips right back into his. He hissed before glancing down at my mouth.

"Are you sure?" he asked, starting up again. His hips still dug deep into me as he licked just my bottom lip. I panted softly, trying to control the heated sensations between my splayed legs.

"I’m handling it," I said, regrettably so. He took it as a challenged, suddenly pounding into me, just as deep, but twice as fast. I arched my back and turned my head, closing my eyes as I tried to fight the scream threatening to escape my lips.

"You still got it, baby?" Justin asked cockily, cursing beneath his breath at the ripples radiating from his thrust.

"Oh...Justin..." I gasped. I tried to breathe, licking my lips as I turned my head back to his. He fucked me even deeper, mashing his mouth on top of mine as he released my pinned hands to grab my breasts. Breaking the kiss with a whimper louder than intended, I could've sworn I saw him smirking, but I held my bottom lip hostage and fought my moans down.

His mouth was everywhere, panting in my ear and kissing my neck. My hands rested against his thighs as he pounded my pussy into oblivion. He was so deep into me that it was almost too deep. I could feel him the depths of my stomach, but I didn't want him to stop. My body wouldn't allow it. The low moans I was able to emit were an amazing accomplishment, but the bed thumping against the wall had to give us away. Not that I cared. I honestly saw nothing or felt anything other than sexual pleasure. My hands tangled in his hair after they scratched along his sweat ridden back leaving scratch marks behind. He would certainly tease me for that later...

And then I felt it suddenly - that warmth that came as fast as it went, but it built up with every thrust. I groaned when I felt it spring from the tips of my toes and fingers. My heart pounded in my chest as it sprouted from between my legs. My entire body convulsed and I hugged Justin to me, digging my nails into his back again. He groaned as well, falling victim to my quivering core. He warmed me as he came into me, making the last waves of my orgasm even better.

We were quiet for a while afterward, both of us not moving. I rubbed his back and he grunted a little.

"It burns," he chuckled. "You scratched me big time, babe."

"Whose fault is that?" I joked.

"I'll gladly take the blame..." he breathed, resting his face beside my own. "Am I crushing you?" I wasn't very aware of his weight on me, but even when he asked, it didn't bother me. It was a nice feeling.

"No, stay," I said softly, "Don't move."

"Mmm...Okay," he mumbled tiredly against my neck before he kissed me there. I closed my eyes and concentrated on the rhythm of my heart and his. We were definitely a lot calmer than before, but there was still an unusual thumping here and there. We needed few more minutes of recuperation.

My hands lazily dragged over his head, scratching along his scalp lightly as he moaned in content.

"You are perfect," I sighed, more to myself than him. There was a moment of silence before his light snoring could be heard. I chuckled lightly and held him tighter, allowing myself to drift into a peaceful, dreamless sleep.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

When I woke the next morning, Justin was gone. I was tangled in sheets I didn't remember having over me and there was a single, white orchid in a vase on the beside table. I smiled and picked up the white card folded next to it.

I laughed and rolled my eyes, as I placed the note under my pillow and sat up. I hissed a bit at the soreness between my legs, wondering why I let him do that to me, before I got up slowly and headed towards the bathroom.

I showered, brushed my hair into a ponytail, changed into a pair of cargos and a t-shirt, and finally headed downstairs. The shower helped to relax my muscles a bit, so I walked more normal than before. I found John and Steve watching television. Justin's parents and stepparents were all sprawled across his sofas as I passed through, greeting them good afternoon. I could've sworn Lynn gave me a knowing look as I walked towards the kitchen. I wondered if she had heard us or just guessed... Maybe Justin even told her. I still wasn't sure how their relationship worked.

I pushed the kitchen door open and saw the most unexpected site - Jessica.

I couldn't stop the look of confusion on my face as her and Justin shared a laugh at some joke Rachel said. They ate food together at the table like it was normal. Justin was the first to notice me, smiling brightly as he rose from his seat to greet me at the door.

"Hey, baby," he cooed, kissing my lips softly, "Get my note?" He winked and I giggled a bit at the memory.

"Yeah, I got it," I said, "The flower is beautiful."

"You know what that means..." he teased and I rolled my eyes jokingly. He took my hand and led me to the table, sitting me next to Jessica who was beaming. She was glowing as Justin walked towards the stove to get me food. I noticed they were all eating something that resembled beef stew.

"I'm really sorry about yesterday," Jessica spoke up when I didn't. I could feel Rachel's glare. "I didn't mean to be rude. I just got myself all worked up for no reason."

"It's okay," I assured, "No biggie."

"But I heard you and Justin got into an argument about it and I just felt so bad," Jessica continued and I wondered who told her that much.

"Don't worry, it was nothing," I told her, "Believe me, we worked it all out." I caught the smirk on Justin's face as he fixed me a bowl.

"I know, but I just wanted you to hear it from me," she said. I nodded.

"I appreciate that," I said as Justin made his way over to us, placing my bowl in front of me, "Smells good."

"Mama dukes made it," Justin smiled.

"Nothing like home food," I agreed, scooping up a spoon and savoring the flavor as it hit my tongue. "Delicious."

"I'm so happy I get to have it for the next couple of days," Jessica smiled and I smiled.

"Are you heading back home?" I asked and Justin cleared his throat suddenly as Jessica gave me a confused look.

"No, I'm staying here," she answered, "Justin didn't tell you?" My heart skipped a beat as I stared at her before turning to Justin from across the table. He was a little too into his stew.

"She's having her house gassed," Justin explained, "There was this really awful bug problem in her neighborhood -"

"Termites," Jessica inserted, "Which caused all these holes, which let other things into my poor little house. It's going to take about two days to move back in." I turned back to Justin.

"Well...that's...horrible," I said slowly, "The bugs, I mean."

"Yeah, so I just figured that since I'm right here and there's plenty of room... There's no sense in her booking a hotel or going all the way home to stay with family when she has so much work to do here with the movie and all..."

"I'm crashing in Rachel's guest house," Jessica explained, "You'll hardly know I'm here."

I doubted that, but I had no say. Besides, I liked Jessica. She was kind and fun to be around. She didn't get on my nerves at all, really. She seemed genuinely excited to be hanging out with Rachel...

"Well, don't be a stranger. You don't have to hide," I joked, "It'll be great to have you here." She seemed to be happy that I approved and went on chattering with Rachel for a moment as I turned back to Justin. He pouted and mouthed the words 'Sorry' with a shrug. I was sure it was more of Rachel pressuring him more than anything.

'It's okay' I mouthed back as I let the news of my new roommate sink in.

At first glance, Jessica was an average girl. I wasn't intimidated by her beauty. I thought her face was plain, but pretty. She wasn't going to stop traffic with her smile, but she'd make you go 'Oh, she's so cute' before you move along. Her personality was sweet, but not the most charismatic one - like Claire's. She didn't instantly make you love her, but she made you like her enough. She wasn't the least bit threatening. I wasn't scared of her form. She was taller than me (like most) but she didn't have a hard edge to her. She didn't seem like the one to walk away from a fight, but she didn't seem like the type to start one either. I liked that Jessica. I liked the harmless, pretty-faced sweetheart Jessica.

The Jessica in front of me now - not so much.

"Hey, babe, you getting in?" Justin called to me as I sat on a lawn chair by his poolside.

I lifted my sunglasses after shifting my vision from her, "Nah, I think I'll stay put." He wrinkled his nose and pouted.

"You suck," he childishly chastised and I shrugged.

"You never complained before," I joked, making Trace howl with laughter as the rest of the adults laughed as well.

"She has you there, Jay," Lynn chuckled. Justin winked at me before diving into the pool, all smiles. The chattering around the pool continued and I slipped my sunglasses back down to glare at Jessica some more. I was so angry at her today. The afternoon sun had tanned her skin perfectly, making her red string bikini look that much better on her. She was sitting next to Rachel, both of their feet in the water, talking. Everything looked like a slow motion movie sceen as Justin emerged from the water, grabbing Rachel by the waist and pulling her into the crystal clear pool.She laughed lightly and clapped happily as Justin and his cousin play fought in the water. She stood, still laughing and cheering Rachel on as she placed Justin in a headlock. She adjusted her swimsuit, walking a couple feet from where they had been sitting. Taunt abs, toned thighs, and not a flabby arm in sight...Her body was perfect, she even had a nice butt when she turned around to flip backwards into the pool.

I wanted to slap her for not even trying.

I glanced down self-consciously at my white tankini, wishing I had the abs of a greek goddess to rock a bikini instead, but as Jessica emerged from the water, glistening in the sun like a damn Sports Illustrated model, I knew that it would never happen. I frowned involuntarily, sticking my nose into my Cosmopolitan magazine to block her from my view. Two seconds didn't even go by before a raucous of laughter caused me to place my magazine down.

Trace had Elisha up on his shoulders and Jessica was up on Justin's shoulders. Elisha and Jessica were wrestling like a bunch of spring breakers as Justin and Trace tried to keep them balanced. They were all laughing happily as I felt my stomach tighten up. I wanted to slam my magazine down and tell them all to stop having fun. How dare she turn my boyfriend into a college frat boy! I narrowed my eyes, hidden beneath my shades. I felt the primitive urge to just attack her, but I had absolutely no reason for such a strong distaste towards her. She complimented my swimsuit, asked me to rub some sunblock on her back, and told me that she loved my sunglasses. She was being so damn nice that I felt bad for being a bitch to her - even if it was just in my head.

"Hey, who wants Margaritas?" Joy asked, getting a bunch of 'hell yeah's from us. It was a child-free day. John and Steve were at a cousin's house for the rest of the week. I took a few pictures with them beforehand and they both said it was nice to meet me before they had to leave. I was happy to have had they chance to spend some days with them.

I sighed to myself, watching as Elisha and Trace went tumbling down, Jessica and Justin high-fiving and cheering in victory. Jessica fell back from Justin's shoulders and swam towards Elisha to hold her head down beneath the water as they fought playfully. Justin swam over to the edge where I sat and I fixed my gaze on him. He pushed himself up from the water with just his arms. I watched as liquid cascaded down his impeccable bisceps and rippled along his abs.

Why did I feel so out of place?

"Sash, are you really gonna just stay in that chair all day?" he complained, wiping his face dry before laying in the empty chair beside me. He sighed and allowed the sun to warm his skin as he closed his eyes.

"It feels good, doesn't it?" I asked him and he shrugged.

"Pool's warm too," he pointed out, opening one eye to me, "Besides, I want to teach you the proper way to do the breast stroke." He chuckled at his own perverted joke.

"You are so lame," I laughed, "If you weren't already my boyfriend, you would've gotten a creeper label right across your forehead for that one."

"Oh, please!" he argued, "If I came up to you, smooth as I am, and laid that line on you...Girl, you'd be all over this." I raised a brow as he rubbed down his chest.

"Yeah, with pepper spray," I laughed before adding, "Oh yeah - already did that." Justin burst out laughing, grabbing the magazine from my hands to swat me on the leg with it.

"You're not funny," he said, still chuckling, "Why do you read this crap anyway?" He flipped aimlessly through the magazine.

"It tells me about my period," I joked, but he just shrugged me off.

"That doesn't scare me," he told me confidently, "This article on how an orgasm almost killed someone - a little bit." Despite his statement, he continued to read along the article, nodding here and there before laughing out loud.

"What?"

"It says that she had gotten a blood clot during her orgasm and was twitching around - but her boyfriend thought he had given her the best orgasm of her life and didn't think about calling 911 until she said she couldn't feel her legs," he was still laughing, "That man had his hopes all high. I can imagine him making that 'oh yeah..' face." He was dying laughing and I had to chuckle along because it was just that damn contagious.

"You are so silly," I commented before adding seriously, "See, when I tell you you're trying to kill, you think I'm joking. One of these days I'm gonna fuck around and pop a blood vessel because you can't keep your hands to yourself." He was laughing the whole time he rolled from his seat to right on top of me. The magazine hit the floor with a thump before he nestled between my legs - wet and cold against my skin.

"You're so warm," he cooed, kissing the tip of my nose.

"And you're so wet," I complained.

"I'm sure I can say the same for you," he hummed.

I rolled my eyes. "Justin, honestly, you're not that hot. I don't drop my panties at the sight of you." He licked his lips and smirked.

"That's 'cause you don't have any on." He emphasised his statement with a very inappropriate grope within my tankini bottom and I gasped before slapping his hand away.

"Get off of me, pervert," I playfully demanded, trying to wiggle from under him. He just laughed and held me down by my sides.

"You know you want this." I giggled as he tickled my sides, making me squirm.

"Justin!" I laughed as I weakly tried to pry his hands from my sides, but he just laughed and kept tickling me.

"Get a room!" I heard Trace shout from the pool and Justin laughed - stopping his tickling to flip Trace off.

"Shut your face, midget!" he hollered back before turning to me. "Now where were we?"

"We were at the part where I was going to tell you that if you didn't stop tickling me, my sides will be the last spot your hands will grace on this body for the remainder of my vacation."

"That's only two days," Justin pouted, "Actually, a day and a half. You have an afternoon flight." I stroked his buzzed head with my fingertips, allowing my nails to lightly graze his scalp.

"I could call Clare and work something out..." I told him softly. He smiled brightly, perking up instantly.

"Another week or two?" he happily suggested, "In fact, lets make it two weeks - we have so much to do."

"Whoa, two weeks?" I paused, my gut tightening, "I was trying to extend it by two days. I've got to work. My bills aren't gonna pay themselves."

"Baby..." Justin sighed, rolling his eyes, "I can pay your bills. That's not an issue." It was my time to roll my eyes.

"Justin, I can pay my bills," I groaned, "And I actually enjoy my job too, thank you."

"Sash, I know you can pay your bills, but if I have to help you out this month to keep you a little while longer..."

"Justin, if I keep missing work, I won't even have a job to get back to," I told him, "I'm sure the girls are sick of taking my shifts. They have lives too." Justin stared at me, his face void of emotion.

"So you don't want to stay?" he asked.

"It's not a matter of what I want to do," I said, "I have responsibilities. I can't be resting my laurels 24/7. As much as I would love to spend my days with you doing nothing else but you, I just can't. That's not how the world works."

"I know how the world works, Sash," Justin sighed, rolling off of me and onto his lawn chair. I stared at him for a moment as he closed his eyes and fell silent.

"Are you mad now?" I asked in disbelief. I don't remember saying anything wrong.

"I'm not mad," he answered curtly, clearly upset.

"Justin, I'm not gonna apologize for having work," I told him firmly, "I told you I'd try to extend it by a couple of days, but that's the best that I can do."

"Sash, don't kill yourself trying to stay longer when you obviously don't want to be here," he grumbled, "You can leave in two days like we originally planned."

"I cannot believe you," I said, a bit hurt by his indifference. He opened his eyes and looked at me.

"What can't you believe?" he asked, "You said it yourself - you have to work. So go work. I don't want you to lose your precious job." His condescending tone made me want to hit him. As if my job were insignificant. I help save lives, got damn it!

"My job is precious," I sneered, sitting up in my chair, "And I worked my ass off to get it, so I'm not about to let you guilt me into staying longer so I can lose it."

"I'm not guilting you into anything," Justin argued, sitting up as well, "I shouldn't have to guilt my girlfriend into spending time with me."

"Don't act like I don't want to be here, Justin, because I am here. I got a fucking plane and flew across the country to spend a week with you-"

"Yeah, after I practically begged you," he interrupted.

"Yeah, you're right. You did have to beg since I couldn't trust how you felt about me since you've been an indecisive asshole since the day I've met you -"

"I'm the indecisive asshole?!" he screeched, "You've got to be kidding me, Sash!"

"Well I'm not!" I shouted, "Justin, do not try and pin everything on me-"

"Of course not because Miss. Independent can do no wrong-"

"Oh, I'm sorry that I can't just quit my job and be your perfect little housewife and let you take care of me, Justin-"

"You don't even let me buy you coffee in the morning, Sash," he groaned, "That's just ridiculous-"

"Why can't you just be happy that I can take care of myself and I'm not some gold digger trying to milk you for what you have?"

"So if a girlfriend lets her boyfriend buy her coffee she's a got damn gold digger?" he asked, "Are you serious right now 'cause you cannot be serious."

"All I know is that I've been taking care of myself for a very long time now and I'm not about to stop just because you want me to."

"You can take care of yourself, Sash. I don't give a damn, but let me help you every once in a while. Let me take care of you and love you... God, I don't even feel like a man half the time the way you just have to take control of every single thing-"

I growled in frustration, cutting him off. "I'm sorry that you measure your manhood based on what your girlfriend lets you buy her because that's just -"

"I don't 'measure' my manhood based on that, but I do measure my manhood based on my place in the relationship."

"And what place is that, Justin?" I asked, "My caretaker? The provider? Are we back to fifties where you're bringing home the bacon and I'm baking you cookies? I'm not with that shit-"

"Why does it have to be a bad thing?" he agonized, rubbing his face roughly, "You're impossible."

"Of course I'm the impossible one because you're just perfect."

"Hell, according to you I am," he said smugly, "That's what you said the other night." I gasped land stood, anger flowing like venom through my veins. I was so embarassed now that he heard me and was making a mockery of my emotions. He had some nerves.

"You cocky motherfucker-" I began to rant before being cut off again.

"You better stop name calling because if I start calling names-"

"What?" I challenged, "What the fuck is gonna happen if you start calling names, Justin?"

"I'm just asking you not to cuss at me-"

"I can fuckin' cuss at you if I damn well please," I retorted, "You aren't my father, Justin, as much as you're trying to be." He scoffed and rolled his eyes.

"Well, shit, even if I was trying to be your father, I wouldn't know where to start 'cause I never met the guy!" he huffed, "In fact, I don't think I've met anyone who means anything to you aside from Clare and your stupid cat-"

"Bob is not stupid," I defended.

Justin went on as if he didn't hear me. "I mean, if it were up to you, they'd probably wouldn't know I exist just like the rest of your got damn family."

"You really want to bring up family issues, Justin?" I asked, my stomach tightening with bottled up emotions that were flying out rapidly, with no direction. "Half your family wants to fucking lynch me and you're upset because you haven't met my father?"

"Oh god! Lynch?!" he beamed. "Sash, now you're getting out of hand. I suggest you shut up."

I raised a brow and took a step back like I had been slapped. "Who the hell do you think you're talking to?" I asked, surprisingly calm as I became enraged.

"I'm talking to you because you're crossing a line right now that I advise you not to cross," he stated firmly, "You can say whatever you want about me, but you do not insult my family."

"Right," I said sarcastically, "'Cause your family hasn't offended me." I shook my head in disbelief.

"They haven't," he said simply with a shrug, "You haven't met them and they haven't met you."

"Do you remember why that is or should I refresh your memory?" Justin looked me dead in the eyes, fury behind his gray-blues.

"I'm done with this conversation," he growled, never breaking his eye contact. I laughed without amusement.

"Good, 'cause I'm done with it too," I said, bending down to retrieve my magazine before standing up straight again. "I'm done with this conversation and I'm done with you." Something behind his eyes fell and I felt impowered by his noticeable weakness.

"Don't say shit you don't mean," he said, barely controlling the angry tremor in his tone.

"I mean what I'm saying," I stated without hesitation, turning around to make my exit. I took sight of his family and Jessica, gawking at us. My stomach was knotted as I continued my steady stride.

"Sash!" Justin called after me, but I ignored him. I walked a little faster, feeling the tears building in my eyes as I reached the sliding glass doors. I caught a brief reflection of him, standing in front his lawn chair, staring at my retreating figure before I entered his kitchen and slid the door shut roughly. Once out of the kitchen, I jogged all the way upstairs, tears streaming from my eyes as I angrily wiped my face. I slammed his bedroom door shut behind me and locked it.

My chest felt weird. Tight and uncomfortable. My stomach wasn't still at all. I felt so angry and hurt that I was choking back my tears. I didn't want to be upset. I wanted to feel like I was right, but doubt plagued my mind as I looked over the argument. Maybe I overreacted?

No - He was wrong.

I shook my head, both sides screaming at me. I made a beeline for my purse on his dresser and found my cell inside. I dialed Clare's number and she picked up on the third ring.

"Heifer, where the hell have you been?" she huffed.

"I think I broke up with Justin," I said, his name feeling weird on my tongue.

"You think?" she asked.

"I did," I clarified, "We got into an argument and I broke up with him." She paused, humming a sound of disapproval.

"You okay?" she asked gently and I shook my head even though she couldn't see me.

"No," I voiced, sniffling, "He was wrong though. He told me to shut up."

"That's a little harsh," she said, "He was mad though, right?"

"So?" I asked, wiping my tear stained face, "That's not a valid excuse."

"I guess not," she recoiled, "I'm just saying - maybe he didn't mean it."

"He meant it," I said, rolling my eyes, "I'm so mad."

"I can tell," she mumbled sarcastically.

"Shut up," I groaned.

"I guess I should break up with you now," she joked, laughing into the line.

"That's not funny," I grumbled.

"I'm sorry," she sighed, "I was just trying to lighten the mood."

"I gotta leave," I decided suddenly, "I can't be in this house anymore."

"Doesn't he have the flight information?" she inquired.

"I'll buy my own ticket," I sniffled again, "I don't need him."

"Maybe you should wait," she told me, "This just happened right?"

"Yeah," I said, "A minute ago."

"Then maybe y'all can work through it-"

"I don't want to work through it," I interrupted, "I'm sick of trying to work through shit with him. We aren't working. I jumped the gun on this one. I got too excited to be in a relationship again and I just let it cloud my better judgment."

"Do you really think that?" Clare challenged.

"Yes," I lied, "I think that love and Justin aren't really a good match."

"I think you're lying to yourself."

"Why can't you have my back for once, Clare? Jesus Christ-"

"I'm on your side, Sash, you know that," Clare cut in, "I always have your back and because of that - I want you to make sure you're sure. Sleep on this and figure it out in the morning. See how you feel. You're still upset and you're not thinking as clearly as you think you are. Just relax a minute." I took a deep breath, knowing it was a logical thing Clare had said, but I was stubborn and wanted to be right nonetheless.

"I probably can't get a ticket this late anyway," I sighed with a stuffy nose, "I'll look some stuff up for tomorrow and leave then. I don't want to work anything out though. I'm done with this complicated shit. I'm sick of always having to climb over moutains with this man... It's not even worth it..." My eyes welled up at the last part. Every fiber of my being knew it was worth it, but I fought against it. No man was worth the stress.

"If that's what you feel," Clare mumbled sadly, "I say stay and talk to him when you've both calm down, but if you're honestly done then... I guess you're done." I was hiccupping now, trying not to sob into the line and failing miserably.

"Why can't I get this right?" I cried, completely wounded.

"Oh, child..." Clare cooed into the line, "It's going to fine."

"One minute we're laughing and joking and the next... It's over. Just like that."

"It doesn't have to be," Clare assured, "You still love him and he still loves you. Y'all are just fighting. I'm telling you, let it blow over." I shook my head defiantly.

"I d-don't want t-to," I stammered, getting more upset by the minute.

"Damn it, woman, you're gonna make me cry," Clare complained. I tried to take a calming breath but I just hiccupped right through it.

"I-I'm-m s-sor-sorry," I sighed, pausing to catch my breath, "I-I'll st-stop..." I sniffled, but I was snotty anyway. I knew I looked a mess, thankfully I had somehow made it down to the floor so I wouldn't have to see my reflection in his bureau's mirror.

"Sash, you have to remember that it's just a fight," Clare said soothingly, "I mean, you and Justin have been through so much in such a short amount of time and even if you think that's more reason to be apart, think of how much y'all fought through just to be together." I nodded after she spoke, trying absorb her words.

"B-but what am I suppose to d-do?" I asked, "I'm the one who broke u-up with him."

"Then take it back," Clare said simply, "He'll probably apologize anyway. Like I said, sleep on it."

"I guess..." I sighed, feeling exhausted all of a sudden. It wasn't late at all. Almost six, but I could use the sleep instead.

"I think you should lay down," Clare said before I could bother with it. She knew me so well it was crazy.

"I was just thinking that too," I yawned, dragging myself up and onto the king-sized bed.

"Call me tomorrow," Clare told me, "And I mean it." I smiled softly.

"Yes, Ma'am," I assured, "Thank you."

"No problem." We said our goodbyes and I was sleeping before the phone flipped closed.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

I woke up rather early the next morning. Eight o'clock was still trying to catch up to me as I stared at the clock beside his bed. I rubbed the empty spot beside me, sighing deeply. What the hell was I thinking? It was such a stupid fight now that I looked back on it. We were arguing over nothing. I was right for being independent, but he was right too...I could be a little too stubborn when it comes to getting help. We can both work on that. His family down south was a mountain we had yet to climb, but I'm sure we'll get through that too...He promised.

I frowned as I sat up and looked around his room. It was so barren without him in it. I dragged myself out of bed and into the bathroom to get ready for the day. It didn't take long for me to be finished and dressed in a t-shirt and capris as I tiptoed downstairs. Nobody seemed to be awake yet. I crept into the kitchen to get something to eat. It was completely silent. Even the dogs were sleeping in their little cabins still. I sighed just as the sound of voices caught my ear. They were faint and coming from outside. I stepped closer to the sliding glass doors before I opened them and stepped barefoot into the grass. I took the little walkway around the back that led to the pool and the voices got clearer.

As I turned the corner of the house, Rachel's guest house came into view. Outside of it was Justin and Jessica. The tiny robe wrapped around her body didn't leave much to the imagination and the amount of skin I saw told me that what was underneath that robe left nothing to the imagination. Justin was standing closer to her than I had ever seen him stand and my stomach did a weird flip as I stepped back, allowing the corner of the house to shield me a little as I stared at them.

"...You shouldn't feel bad," Jessica cooed softly and Justin looked away for a moment, staring in the opposite direction of where I hid. His hand rubbed the back of his head before he turned back to her.

"I dunno..." he sighed, sounding a bit torn, "It was just a fight... I don't even know if it was a real break up or not."

"We discussed this last night," Jessica said sharply and I felt my heart jerk for some reason at the intensity of her tone, "She broke up with you."

"She was upset-"

"She locked you out of your own bedroom," Jessica argued, "If she wanted to make up, she would've at least let you come to bed."

"It was a bad fight," Justin said softly and Jessica rolled her eyes. I wanted to smack her. She didn't know how I felt.

"That she started," Jesssica told him and I narrowed my eyes, biting my tongue, "And then finished with the break up line. You were single since that argument happened."

"I know Sash and she didn't mean it..." Justin fought and although his words were what I wanted to hear, they didn't sound like they were meant to just defend me. They sounded like they hurt for him to say.

"Now you don't think she meant it," Jessica said, "But last night you thought it was completely offical."

"Last night I had one too many margaritas and I got all upset over nothing..." Justin sighed, shaking his head. He rubbed his eyes tiredly and the bags beneath them dragged lower. Jessica rolled her eyes and huffed, obviously annoyed. I wanted to smack her for being so short with him. I wanted to smack Justin for talking to her about our fight.

"Justin-" The sound of barking cut her short and I turned in time to see Brennan running towards me. He leapt up to jump on me and I stiffled a scream as I turned my face away from his frailing tongue. It didn't take long for Justin and Jessica to appear from around the corner to see what all the commotion was about.

"Get down, Brennan," Justin commanded, tapping his dog with a firm hand. The mutt instantly dropped down obediently, whining as he panted and stared at Justin. I tried to compose myself.

"I was just looking for you," I said, trying to make up an excuse for me being there, "Brennan must've woken up and heard me-"

"Snooping?" Jessica inserted with the slightest bit of attitude. I turned to look at her and then Justin, who was conveniently knelt down to the ground, sweet talking Brennan like he hadn't heard a word.

"I wasn't snooping, Jessica," I stated bitterly, "I was looking for my boyfriend." I added the emphasis to spite her, but Jessica was oddly smug.

"So he is your boyfriend," Jessica turned to Justin, "I guess it wasn't a real break up afterall."

"It's none of your damn business anyway," I snapped as she cut her eyes towards me.

"Isn't it?" she asked simply and I was confused when Justin shot up from Brennan and stood between us.

"That's enough," he said to us, even though he turned his head to look at Jessica.

"I knew all that nice stuff was too good to be true," I continued, "You're just an undercover bitch."

"Sash-" Justin started before Jessica laughed.

"I'll gladly take that title," she snickered before she casually dragged her hand down the length of Justin's arm, "Won't I, Jay?" she cooed to him and I reached up instinctly to slap her hand away from him. She gasped at the 'smack' and glared at me.

"Keep your hands off of him," I said through gritted teeth, grabbing Justin's hand to yank him towards me. "Lets go inside." I shot another sharp glare in Jessica's direction and faced forward as we began to walk back towards his kitchen.

"I don't think that I'm the one who needs to keep their hands to themselves!" Jessica shouted behind us, obviously bitter about my slap to her arm. "Right, Justin?" I stopped walking. The sound of accusation in her tone was directed very sharply at Justin who slowed a moment later when he realized I wasn't following.

"What the hell are you talking about?" I asked as Jessica stepped closer to where we now stood. Although I had asked the question, her eyes were on Justin as she spoke.

"I would love to sit here and tell you, but I think it's only right that Justin speaks for himself," she said, smiling up at him. "So tell her." I turned to watch the facial expressions exchanged between them before Justin finally broke down and turned to me.

"Lets go inside," he told me softly and my stomach twisted in a nervous knot that told me it was something I didn't want to hear.

"What is it?" I asked, not moving from the spot where I stood. I felt locked into the plush grass beneath my bare feet. Justin shifted his vision to Jessica and back to me.

"I'd rather speak to you privately," he told me softly, "Lets go talk alone."

"It doesn't matter where you tell her, Justin," Jessica stated bitterly, her voice breaking in the process. I turned my eyes to hers and watched as the pain flowed through them in the form of tears. I was a bit surprised as I looked back at Justin.

"What the hell is going on?" I asked, more panicked than planned. "Why is she crying?"

"Because...she...I mean, she knows that I was upset and that if there were different circumstances..." I shook my head, trying to make sense of his jumbled words.

"Justin, speak english, please," I asked, crossing my arms over my chest.

"You broke up with me yesterday," he began softly, "I was really upset and I came to talk to you, but you ignored me when I knocked on the door..."

"I must've fallen asleep," I told him and he looked stunned momentarily.

"Oh... I thought you were just ignoring me," he said to his feet as he stared down at the ground.

"Justin, do you know how upset I was?" I asked him, lifting his chin with my hand, "I called Clare and she could barely hear me through all my crying... I went to sleep just so I could calm the hell down."

"I didn't know that," Justin muttered to himself, "I asked you if you wanted to work things out and you didn't answer...So I just...I assumed that was a no."

"Why would I just ignore you like that?" I asked, "You know how much I love you. It was such a dumb fight and I never want to break up again." I took his hands and kissed his knuckles. He stared down at me and his eyes seemed to be glossed over with tears. I turned back to glance at a sniffling Jessica. Had I missed the memo that I should be shedding tears?

"Shit, shit, shit..." Justin cursed, over and over again, staring up at the sky for a moment before his eyes landed on mine, "I don't think never breaking up again is an option."

"Why?" I asked, turning back to Jessica to get a clue, but her blank expression hadn't changed.

"I did something... something really stupid last night," he told me slowly, controlling the tremor in his voice as a silent tear rolled down his baby face. I wiped it away instinctively and he brushed his cheek against my palm.

"What the hell did you do?" I asked, but I wasn't stupid. Jess half naked and crying. Justin drinking and upset...Coming out of Rachel's guest house so early in the morning... My heart was crumbling with every agonizingly silent moment as I connected every painful dot.

"I was drinking and I went to talk to Rachel, but she had gone out with Elisha last night, so Jessica and I were talking..." he paused, composing himself for a moment, "I don't think you really want all the details, but I did...sleep...with her... I was sick about it. I hate myself for it and I swear it didn't mean a damn thing. Not even for a moment." Justin shook his head like he couldn't believe it as my heart exploded in my chest in a pain so strong that it buckled my knees. My gut had known all along, but to hear it confirmed was something I wasn't handling as well as I thought I would. "I was just trying to feel better..." Justin said softly, pleading with me before I pressed my fingers against his lips to silence him. He kissed the tips of them with his gentle mouth.

I stared up at Justin and it hurt to see his blue eyes shrone over with tears. It hurt to feel this much pain from someone I loved so dearly. It hurt to know he was very sorry, but it did nothing to help me forgive him.

"I love you," I breathed, surprisingly calm and not crying, but trembling.

"I love you, Sash," Justin said, pulling me into his arms. It was the safest place I have ever been. "I love you so much and I'm so, so, so sorry." His words were muffled against my shoulder, but I heard them loud and clear. It only hurt more to hear the same sincerity of his eyes in his voice.

I forced myself to pull away from him, looking over his reddened face and snotty nose. His eyes were puffy as he stared me down. I felt so disappointed in that moment, in myself, but especially in him. He was suppose to be perfect, at least to me, and here he was, making the simplest male mistake. I shook my own head in disbelief.

There goes my knight in shining armor, folks. All rusted from tears. He was suppose to be different and he was the same. All it took was one big fight for him to forget everything and fail me. I wasn't even angry now. Just saddened by the news that he wasn't who I built him up to be. Who I loved. He was just another mistake to add to my list, which was growing longer everyday. I felt the walls I had knocked down quickly shield my heart again, my spirit plummeting. Some kind of darkness came over me and I felt in the depths of my soul. I was shutting down. Every emotion was numbing itself.

In my mind, I was right back in my living room, two years in the past, watching my boyfriend and best friend hold hands and tell me they were in love. I was right back on that sofa, not believing my eyes, my ears, or the amount of pain I was in. Once again, I was cheated on and forgotten by someone I loved too deeply. And for what? I asked, turning back to Jessica, who was no longer crying. Her smug little face had dropped. In fact, I sensed some regret coming from the green of her eyes. I took a step towards where she stood and she took a defensive step back.

"I just wanted to say that I hope you're happy," I told her, "You might've fucked us up, but he still doesn't love you." She swallowed and looked down at me without a word. I turned back to Justin and he had wiped his face dry. I just shook my head disappointedly and walked around him. I was just thinking about home and laying in my own bed, petting my loving cat - the one man that has yet to let me down. Maybe a bottle of wine and a bowl of ice cream...

I reached his sliding glass doors and there he was, reflecting against it. His face was a crumbled heap of sadness. I wanted nothing more than to turn around, run into his safe arms, and tell him we could work it out...But the sharp pains inside me pulled me into the kitchen, sliding the door shut behind me. I waited in the kitchen for just a moment, waiting for his following footsteps or the call of my name. Anything to keep me from leaving. Any words to keep me here in his mansion for a moment longer. Anything to make me remember why him and I were worth it...

But the moment passed and there was nothing. I fought back the sob in my throat as I made my way upstairs, keeping my eyes off the bed we had shared and made love on. I couldn't even look at the bathroom, thoughts of bathing together and mornings where we'd brush our teeth while bumping hips passed through my mind. I haphazardly packed my things in my half empty suitcase, not bothering to fold as I did so. I had no time, no plan, no tickets, and a credit card with a questionable limit, but that would have to do. I had to get home. I couldn't stand another day here.

I was out of breath from crying and running around grabbing my things. I slumped onto the floor with my cell phone in hand, dialing Clare's number.

"Did you speak to Justin?" she asked before I even said a word, her hopeful voice causing a sob to fall from my lips. Silence met me for a moment as she let my cry.

"I...I'm c-coming h-home," I stammered through my tears, sobbing again. She asked no questions.

"Okay," she said simply, "I'll get you when you land." I nodded even though she couldn't see me, thanking her as I hung up and stood, running into the bathroom to wash my face. I practically drowned myself in the water before I dried up. I gasped a bit when I walked back out into the bedroom to find Trace standing by the door, playing with a set of keys. I looked better than before, but it was clear I had been upset. I was still sniffling.

"Do you need a ride?" he asked simply. I stared at him for a moment and he jingled his keys with a soft smile. "I know the fastest route to the airport." I looked at my luggage and back at him. I guess I never did think about how I was getting to the airport, so I accepted his offer.

"Thank you," I said softly. He just nodded and picked up my bags without asking, leading the way downstairs. I wondered if he spent the night here because he was dressed in pajama bottoms and a t-shirt. He slipped flip flops on when we reached the door and I slid on my sandals. The ride to the airport was as silent as the walk to the car. I slipped up crying once or twice and he rubbed my back awkwardly without question. I decided that I liked Trace. He knew the situation and didn't stick his nose in my business. Even I would've tried talking to me, but he just let me be.

I thanked him again once we reached the airport and he paid for the only available first class ticket. It was Justin's credit card, but I didn't object. I just wanted to go home. We shared a hug as my gate was called.

"I'm sorry," Trace apologized to me, addressing the issue for the first time as we pulled apart. I didn't respond, I just thanked him for the ride and gave a weak smile as I got in line with my carry on bag. My pain had dulled as my exhaustion came over me. Once I got onto the plane and found my seat, I settled back into my plush chair and closed my eyes. Justin danced behind my lids and my heart seared with pain before I drifted a dreamless sleep.

"Sash...I know you're going to get this, just like my other messages, but I hope you really call me back after this... I love you, baby, I do.... I don't know what the fuck happened, I swear to God -"

I pressed seven and the voicemail was deleted before I bothered finishing it.

I had no intentions of loving Justin Randall Timberlake or his counterpart, Matthew Hanes. I had the brains to know it would just go horribly wrong. Sasheirah was never a fool twice, but with the help of Justin and his homewrecking sidekick, that theory is out the window. Angel used to be the number one mistake, but Justin...Oh, Justin takes the cake. He was good. He was real good. He played the perfect boyfriend role to a tee. Angel was flawed - he complained, whined, and never made any promises to never break my heart, but Justin... See, Justin was a poet. He put words together in a rhythmic flow that enthralled me. They sucked me in like a child chasing candy. I believed them. I absorbed them in the depths of my soul. My heart cried out for his loving words and ate them right up. I knew that boy was trouble when my body ached for his touch like a dope fiend looking for crack.

Got damn it. I hated him for it. I hated him for making somebody as strong as me that damn weak.

I let a tear fall before I wiped it away. I adjusted the pastel green nursing scrubs on my body and sighed. I wouldn't have to deal with the noise in my head much longer. Work was the best distraction. I took extra shifts for almost two months. It kept me from being home and near the phone. My cell was always going off and so was my house phone. Justin was always at the other end, asking me to forgive him, let him come over, call him back, take him back, blah, blah, blah...

I had to confess that I did save a few messages and played them sometimes, just to hear his voice. The first few voicemails he left were killer. He'd be crying or sniffling in them, begging me to take him back. As time progressed, he got less emotional and downright demanding at times, telling me to stop acting like I didn't want to be with him. Those pissed me off and I saved one just to remind myself of why I didn't want to be with him. He had the nerves to act like I was keeping us apart. I wasn't the one who fucked us up, it was him. After those kind of messages, he'd usually call and apologize, claiming he was all over the place and didn't know how to feel.

You and I both, Justin. You and I both.

I was over it though. Not over us, but it. He cheated, yes. It was done. Justin "I swear I'll never cheat on anybody" Timberlake slipped up and slipped into Jessica "I'm a desperate slut who'd rather be banged by my drunk ex than be completely alone" Biel just to spite me after a stupid fight. I decided to push back sadness and replace with a healthy dose of anger.

The more I thought about him cheating, the more I hated him. The more I thought about them together, in that godforsaken guest house, slapping skins as I slept in the mansion beside it, the more I wanted to jab a pencil in both sets of their eyes. They deserved one another - cheating bitch with a cheating bastard. Alcohol and anger? What a classical combination! He knew what would happened. He calculated how much he could drink before so he'd have a "valid" excuse. He should've drank some more because he was sober enough to remember, so he was sober enough to know what he was doing to me - to us.

Even if we had legitimently broken up - knowing he fucked Jessica in such a short amount of time would've made me think twice. He didn't know what to feel around that girl and I didn't want to be around as he figured it out. I was beyond waiting on Justin or any man. I would just have to join a nunnery and take my dear old Bob with me.

I pouted at my reflection in my bureau's mirror, smoothing the wrinkles in my scrubs slowly. My heart was still trying to stop breaking over and over again. I had taken this one much harder than Angel, but I was pushing past it like I always do: by surpressing every emotion but anger and pretending to be fine.

Unlike the Angel situation, I'm suffering from headaches and nausea. My diet is pretty much shot to hell from all the cookies, chocolate, and ice cream I've been stuffing my face with... Ten pounds in the first three weeks. I didn't even want to know how much more weight I've packed on since...It only worsens my depression, but I keep on pretending I'm fine and ignore the tightening of my clothes. I would work it off later, when I got over him and decide I deserved better anyway.

How you get better than Justin Timberlake is a little beyond me at this point. The boy was everything I freaking wanted and thought I needed, but at the end of the day - he wasn't a man. He wasn't willing to fight for us. He wasn't willing to love me through anything. I had been just as upset after that fight and I didn't go bang Trace just for the hell of it.

I shook my head, knowing it was logical to know he was an asshole and let it go, but my heart still yearned for him. My body still ached to feel his weight on me. I missed his voice and I missed his lips. I missed his stupid jokes and the way he used to steal food when somebody was cooking... I used to think we were molded from the same clay and that God had somehow made this man for me. That it was meant to be in a weird way. That's why I fought so hard against loving him; blew off his talks of 'destiny'. I didn't want to make him larger than life and be disappointed in the end, like I am now.

My stomach shook and I covered my mouth as I gagged for a moment, trying to talk the vomit down. It worked sometimes, but now it was not going so well. I jogged to the bathroom and barely made it to the toilet. I didn't even eat breakfast and yet I was emptying my belly. See what this fool was doing to me? He had me all messed up mentally, physically, and emotionally. I flushed the toilet and rinsed my mouth with a crumpled face. I hated the smell. That's the only thing nursing school could never make me immune to - vomit. I could wipe an ass or change a catather, but Lord, keep the throw up to a minimum.

I fixed myself up and brushed my teeth before snatching a bottle of Pepto from the medicine cabinet. I headed downstairs and went into the kitchen, grabbing a 20oz bottle of Ginger Ale from the fridge. I downed some of the minty pink liquid before I washed the taste from my mouth with Ginger Ale. I felt better instantly and grabbed a breakfast bar from the table. I was going to be late if I i didn't leave at this very moment. I dashed for the door and sped off.

--------------------------------------------------------------------

It took me a minute to feel the hole being burned into the side of my face, but I eventually snapped my head in Clare's direction and caught her disgusted face before she could fix it. I frowned, pausing my eating.

"What?" I grumbled through cheekfuls of sweet deliciousness. I was throughly enjoying my Donut Holes, piece by piece, when I was rudely interrupted by a face that only Clare could manage to make.

"You've been eating like a walrus lately, you know that?" she asked, looking me up and down with a wrinkled nose. I frowned deeply, swallowing the food in my mouth slowly.

"Well I'm sorry," I said sarcastically, "Maybe my perfect little cheating ex-boyfriend broke my feeble, foolish heart before ripping it out of my chest and leaving me hallow. Maybe I'm just trying to fill the void I have -"

"With Twinkies?" she inserted and I slapped her hand away as she reached for my half eaten box of goodies.

"They are Donut Holes!" I corrected angrily, "Why are you being such a bitch? I know I'm a mess. Why can't you support me?" She didn't look phased by my agony at all. She even had the audacity to steal one of my donuts.

"Child, I do support you," she told me, munching on the small, lightly glazed masterpiece. She nodded approvingly. "But I just don't understand why you're sabotaging your health for this man. Yeah, Justin was amazing when he wasn't dicking around, but you were working out and getting toned... And now look at you. How much weight have you gained?"

"You're an asshole," I griped, eating two more donuts and avoiding the question at hand.

"I love you and I'm not gonna lie to you," Clare sighed, "But seriously, you've gotta get out of this rut. It's not healthy."

"I know," I sighed, "Clare, I have never felt this stressed before. I've gained God knows how much weight and I'm sleeping like a boulder all the got damn time... I've been so upset that I even get physically ill over this man. If I think about him hard enough, I throw up. That's just ridiculous... I've never felt this way before. Not even with the whole Angel scenario."

"You've been throwing up?" Clare asked in disbelief and I nodded, shamefully, beneath her scrutiny.

"I know, I know... It's pathetic," I sighed.

"Sash, listen to yourself," she said and I nodded.

"I'm pathetic, Clare, I know," I said, "But I promise, I'll get over it -"

"No, no, no," she said, cutting me off mid-sentence. "Listen to what you're saying." I paused, confused.

"What the hell am I saying?" I asked.

"You've been eating like a damn walrus," Clare said, "You've gained at least twenty or thirty pounds in what...a month. Maybe two." I gasped

"Thirty!" I beamed, offended and scared. "You think I gained that much weight?" I looked down at my pudgy body as Clare's indifference reached my ear.

"I dunno, I'm just guessing," she told me nonchalantly, completely unaware of the turmoil her 'guess' just placed on my soul. I pinched my sides and frowned deeper.

"So I'm as big as a house, I get it," I stated bitterly, "No need to rub it in."

"No, dumbass!" Clare groaned sharply, "How you got through nursing school is beyond me. . ."

"Are you talking about the nutrition part because that was one of my strong points," I argued as Clare rolled her eyes.

"Lets make a list and maybe you'll follow me," she sighed. "Major change in appetite, weight gain, sleeping constantly, vomitting, and you're highly emotional-"

"I am not!" I yelled, for no reason. Clare raised a smug brow. "You're an asshole," I muttered shamefully.

"Sash, put all your college years to good use and tell me what all that means," Clare said softly as I repeated her list in my head over and over again.

"It's depression," I said with a shrug, "Those are all signs of depression." I was certain that made sense. Of course I was depressed. Who wouldn't be?

"When was the last time you had you period?" she asked. I gave her shrug.

"Like two mon-" I choked on my words and piece of donut as a realization hit me. Major change in appetite, weight gain, sleeping constantly, vomitting, highly emotional... "No, no, no-"

"Yes, yes, yes!" Clare chimed in. "You're pregnant." I shoke my head vehemently.

"No, I'm just depressed," I argued and the way I was panicking wasn't helping me, "Stress can make you miss your period."

"So can pregnancy," Clare argued back, "And look at you - you're all golden and shiny. You're glowing."

"I'm not glowing, I just have oily skin," I said softly, "I've fallen off the skincare bandwagon since the break up."

"Oh give it a rest, Sash," Clare said, "When I was pregnant with my son, I was looking just like you. I can't believe I didn't see it sooner. This is crazy." I scoffed. She thinks it's crazy? I think it's the fucking apocolypse.

"But it's impossible, Clare," I said, grasping at the biggest straw I had, "Justin and I always used protection."

"The pill doesn't always work-"

"I know that, but we wore condoms," I said, "I made sure he was strapped up. He used to make fun of me for being so hell bent on protection. He even called me Nurse Betty." Clare wrinkled her nose.

"I don't need to know your bedroom pet names," Clare said, "And you guys never went without a condom? It never broke or anything?"

"No, nothing," I swore, my mind running through every intimate night I had with Justin. It didn't hurt so much to think about him when it was wrapped in a fog of panic. Sure, I can remember us fooling around condomless, but he never came or penetrated... Maybe when we were in the tub and I jerked him off? It was impossible for his sperm to swim that damn well and that damn deep in me. Maybe I straddled him and it was the wrong timing-

"Fuck..." I breathed outloud, interrupting my own thoughts. My fingers gripped the edge of the white lounge table as I closed my eyes and shook my head slowly. "Fuck my fucking fuck-fuck..."

"So you did slip up," Clare assumed, giving me a weak smile, "It only takes one time." One time, indeed. The last time. The night before that godforsaken day. The last time we made love on his bed... We got so caught up in idea of fucking that we never strapped up. There wasn't a pause to get the condom on. All I could think about was how good he felt and how warm he was...Shit. Once again, I got so caught up in feelings that I didn't think things through. I got too comfortable and now...

"I'm pregnant..." I breathed, unbelieving. It didn't even sound right coming off of my tongue. Clare gave me a sympathetic smile.

"We should give you a test first," she told me, "I could be wrong." I raised my worried eyes at her and nodded.

"I should find a cup," I sighed, "And a shred of hope."

--------------------------------------------------------------

I found a cup very easily. Clare dug through a shelf near the nurses station and pulled out the little bastards. I downed three bottles of water, an ice tea, and some Sunny Delight. I had more than enough 'testing material'. I filled four cups with ease. Clare asked the technician to run four test down in the lab and I had to wait until the end of my shift to get the results.

Usually when I felt so anxious, I seeked solace in my special place - the nursery. The irony was sickening. The one place I found peace held all the things I feared. I was a mess the entire day. I almost gave myself morphine just to dull the ache in my head. I checked on my patients over and over again - to the point where Mr. Thompson asked if I had any other patients who would enjoy my company instead. I made a beeline to the lounge right after that awkward conversation, eating two cups of Jell-O pudding before throwing them up into the trash can that was thankfully beside me.

Yes, I was a mess.

If that wasn't enough, Justin had called. It rang three times before I just rejected it. He didn't leave a voicemail. I stared at that missed call notification for almost an hour, blinking and turning away from it periodically, but always coming back to his name. If I were pregnant, it would be his. If it were his, he would have to know... I couldn't deny him that right. He might be a shithead of a boyfriend, but he would be a good father.

Not that I needed him around. I could raise a kid by myself. I was financially capable and emotionally fit. Plus I had Clare and my mom - whenever the hell I got the balls to tell my mama I was going to have some white boy's baby and explain to her why she never met him and why we weren't together now...

That was going to be painful.

Not as painful as dialing Justin's number and telling him the news. I had to pull myself together. I didn't want to be a wreck. I would just calm my nerves and tell him very straightforward that I was pregnant. I didn't need his money or his time, but it would nice if he spent a Christmas or two with the kid. I would make it clear that the call was solely for the child and not an opportunity to discuss the topic of us and how we can work things out. Baby business and baby business only.

That seemed fair enough and I was almost calm before my beeper went off. Clare was beeping me to let me know the results were in. I checked the time on my phone - it was almost seven o'clock. My day would be over in just a few minutes. My results will be in my hands in a few seconds. I walked quickly from the lounge, as quickly as I could without the urge to vomit. I rounded the corner and Clare sat behind the desk in the lobby, spinning in her swivel chair. She looked up at me as soon as I came into view.

I gulped when I saw her face.

I bravely walked behind the desk and tucked myself in the seat beside her. She looked at me and the four white sheets of paper in her hand before looking back at me again. She raised the papers from her lap and I raised my hands to retrieve them. The papers trembled in my shaking hands before I settled them into my lap.

Test one: positive. I turned the page.

Test two: positive. I turned the page.

Test three: positive. I turned the page.

Test four: positive.

"How good are these results?" I asked, knowing the answer before she opened her mouth.

"99.999 percent," she told me softy. I felt my eyes well up.

"There's always that .001..." I joked weakly. My voice broke and I covered my mouth, catching the sob that fell from my throat. I didn't want to alarm the people running around the lobby and sitting in the waiting areas. Clare took me in her arms in an awkward sideways hug. I fought down my tears, but a few escaped anyway.

"Shh..." Clare cooed, rocking me back and forth, "You'll be fine, girl. You know I'm here." I nodded, finding a bit of comfort in her words even though my stomach - full with more than just the donut holes I devoured earlier - turned in nervous knots.

"Today is the worst day of my life," I agonized, "I want to shoot myself."

"And take my godchild with you?" she scoffed jokingly, "Maybe after the breast feeding stage, but not now. You have at least eight months." I pulled out of her embrace slowly and shook my head, wiping my eyes.

"Eight months?" I asked and she nodded.

"I'm assuming you're a month already. It's just a guess, but you should probably set up an appointment with Marissa," Clarissa said, referring to an OBGYN at the hospital. I glared at her.

"How many people have you told?" I groaned, looking around to catch anyone staring. Clare rolled her eyes.

"I didn't say a word," she assured me. "You, on the other hand, have lots of people to tell." Even though it was plural, Clare was referring to Justin and I rolled my eyes this time.

"I'm gonna call him," I sighed, "I just need a minute to absorb all this..."

"Of course," she said, "It doesn't have to be tonight, but soon. He'll probably want to be around for your appointments and whatnot." I rolled my eyes, thinking that if he could've kept his dick in his pants long enough, he'd be right here with me every step of the way. It was a bitter thought that left a nasty taste in my mouth.

"I'll sleep on it," I said, folding up the results. I held them in my hand tightly to make sure they were real. I stood and yawned. Yes, I would definitely sleep on it.

I said my goodbyes to Clare and got my stuff from the lounge. I didn't feel any different, but everything had changed in the most powerful way. My hand rested on my belly as I tossed my hoodie on. I was so scared of what was inside of me. I was terrified that I wouldn't be a good mother. I was upset that I wasn't married or even in a committed relationship. I was sad knowing that if Justin and I were together still... It would've been a more enjoyable moment to know I was pregnant. But I was alone in this, for the most part. I was going to be the main caretaker. The molder of this human being. It was scary, yes, but impowering. I could feel the soft skin of my newborn and see the toothless smiles... I was scared, but a smallest part of me was excited for this. A part of me knew that I would be very happy with a child at some point in time. Being called 'mommy' didn't seem so bad. I would chase away the monsters under the bed and have the best advice...

My hand smoothed over my small stomach (despite my added weight) and I smiled very softly as I thought of tiny fingers and tiny toes.

I couldn’t breathe. My breaths were ragged gasps for air as I turned down the rocky hills that curved along my estate. My Nikes squished against the wet earth as I almost slipped on a muddy rock. I caught my balance before I could come close to the ground. My face contorted from the pain in my knees. I needed to stop running or they would give way, but I pushed myself further. At least when I was focused on the pain in my knees, the pain in my chest would ease.

I passed the last of the large redwoods that lined the hills and came across the path that led me to the treacherous woods when I first began. I was exhausted; my body drenched in so much sweat that the light drizzle from the clouds made no difference. I glanced at the watch on my wrist. It was almost nine in the morning. I had started my journey at six. My knees and legs and lungs felt those long hours. They needed to stop. They wanted to run a little faster just so I could reach my house and end their misery.

My heart, however, was unwilling to stop the much-needed distraction of physical pain. The emotional turmoil I would have to endure once I stopped almost made me turn around and run a few more laps to prolong the torture. As much as I wanted to avoid that raw, emotional pain, I wasn’t stupid. I was two seconds away from passing the hell out. I needed water. I needed food. No matter how much I wanted to rip my sorry excuse of a heart out of my chest, I wasn’t completely suicidal.

Not yet anyway.

The trail led down to the highway that followed route to my mansion. I could see the large, iron gates in the distance and her face flashed in my mind. The way her wide, wondrous brown eyes took in the view. The way she asked for Shia LaBeouf and how much surprised she was to know I knew Ellen.

She never even got the chance to meet her.

I couldn’t stop the massive amount of pain that shot through my chest as I curved off the side of the road to hold myself together. I probably looked like I had a crazy leg cramp or was having a heart attack. Either way, my outside appearance was nothing compared to the pain inside me. Her face flashed through my mind in quick images that struck me one by one. Her scent somehow lingered in the air I breathed. I heard her telling me she loves me. I saw the shyness in her express when I watched her undress and admired her beautiful body…

"Shit…" I hissed, pushing myself upright as I walked the rest of the way, limping. Even with the pain in my legs, I couldn’t distract myself. Memories of her swarmed my mind like bees. I couldn’t push her out and it was killing me. Two months and I could still image the silkiness of her skin…I can still feel her lips on mine, and the warmth of her curves.

The guard at the gate gave me a look when I approached him, drenched in sweat and crouched over. "Are you okay, Mr. Timberlake?" he asked from his security booth, peering out from the glass window.

"Do I look okay?" I snapped bitterly. He made a move to come out of the booth to assist me, but I quickly raised my hand. "Don’t. I’m fine."

"Are you sure?" he asked again and I rolled my eyes.

"Please just open the gate," I all but begged and he nodded, slow and unsure, before the buzzer went off. I walk through them, not bothering to respond when he hoped for me to feel better. What could I possibly say to that? The only person that could make me feel better hated me. At least that’s the general consensus.

I barely made it uphill, but when the gravel of my driveway crackled beneath my feet, I felt my body relax. The pain in my chest was a little duller, or maybe I just became numb to it.

I just wanted to shower and sleep after a tall glass of water. I just wanted to disappear in my sacred cocoon made my bedspread and block out the world. Sometimes when I slept, I dreamt of her, but it didn’t hurt so badly in the dream. There was a deep longing afterward, but nothing compared to the sharp pain I felt when I was wide away and thinking of her. Maybe it was because my dreams weren’t as vivid. Maybe it was because I tend to forget half of my dreams.

Whatever it was, sleep was the only thing I could do to ease my pain. Talking about my feelings wasn’t an option. Time machines have yet to be invented, killing myself was out of the question… Yes, sleep was the only possible and positive solution.

I didn’t hear my dogs barking when I got to the door and I furrowed my brows as I pulled my keys from my pocket, purposely jingling them to make noise. Nothing again.

"Brian!" I called as I finally entered my foyer, locking the door behind me. "Brennan!" I whistled loudly and there was still no response. I felt panic rising in my throat as I almost ran to the backyard. I skid to a stop when I was halfway through my living room.

"Hey," my mother greeted, her hand on my stepfather’s knee; his hand on top of hers as they sat side-by-side on my sofa. I turned my head away from their affection, unable to bare the sight of love.

"Where are my dogs?" I asked, looking at them both suspiciously.

"Trace has them," my stepfather spoke up, "They’re fine."

"Did he take them to Elisha’s?" I asked anxiously. I made a beeline for my phone.

"Justin!" my mother yelled and I stopped to raise a brow at her.

"Why are you yelling?" I asked, "Why are you guys even here? Aren’t you supposed to be in Millington?" I turned from my mother and walked over to the cordless phone by the television.

"This has to stop, Justin," my mother rambled as I dialed Trace’s number. "You should come home."

"I am home," I mumbled absentmindedly. Trace’s phone rang and rang.

"He’s not going to answer," my stepfather broke in as Trace’s voicemail popped up. I angrily hung up the phone.

"Did you tell him to ignore me or something?" I asked sarcastically.

"Yes," my mother answered and I looked her in the eyes to see if she were serious.

She was.

"Why?" I asked dumbly, "He’s my best friend."

"He’s worried about you," my mother said, "Hell, Brian and Brennan are worried about you."

"I’m fine," I quickly lied, slamming the phone back down on its base, "Tell him to bring my damn dogs back. Y’all have no right to take them." My mother frowned so deeply that she looked like she would cry.

I don’t know why I was so surprised when she actually did let a tear fall, but it broke my heart even further. I looked down, somewhat ashamed. "What are you crying for, Ma? I didn’t mean to yell…"

"Justin, it’s not the yelling," she moaned, shaking her head of curls sadly as I looked up at her. The concern in her blue eyes was sincere and motherly. "I love you and you know that… I’m suppose to be your best friend, but you can’t…you can’t even t-talk t-to me…" Now she was really crying and I watched helplessly as my step dad hugged her from the side and kissed her temple.

"What your mother is trying to say is that we don’t like the state you’re in right now and we’d appreciate it if you came home and just spent some time with the family. Get your mind off things and get some feelings off your chest…"

"Dad, that sounds all fine and dandy, but this is really different," I tried to explain, "Ma, look at me." My mother was fighting her way down to sniffles as she locked eyes with mine. "I know you’re worried, but you don’t have to be. I’m fine, really. I’ve been doing all the work I have to do… I’m out doing interviews and whatnot. I’m not missing a beat."

"Justin, I don’t give a rat’s ass about what you’re doing on the outside, it’s the inside that I’m worried about," my mother sighed, "I’ve been your best friend since you’ve been in my womb and I’ll love you through every single thing because that’s what I want to do and that’s what I gotta do, but watching you suffer the way I know you’re suffering…"

"Mama, I gotta suffer for this one," I laughed without amusement, "I definitely put my own foot up my ass. I don’t want you worrying about me being a little depressed over this. I deserve this torture. For the first time, I’m the wrongdoer in the relationship and I’m just struggling to learn how to approach this situation. I don’t know how I’m suppose to get over someone who did nothing to me."

"We can talk about that!" my mother said excitedly, like a light bulb went off in her head, "Justin, you can be depressed; I’ve seen it and we’ve gotten through it because we talked it out and prayed on it… But now… Now you won’t even let me say Sash’s name –" I winced when the pain shot through my chest right down to the depths of my gut. My mother paused. "See, that’s what I’m talking about."

"I just don’t want to talk about this," I said softly, "Like you said, we talk about everything. Let me just have this one thing that I have to do on my own."

"You’re not dealing with it," she argued, "Justin, you’re bottling it up. You’re literally running away from it." I shock my head, denying what I knew was true.

"I’m just trying to keep my mind off of it," I said, "I can’t dwell on it."

"Justin, the moment you and her broke up –"

"You mean the moment I cheated?" I said aloud, even though it stung my ears and left a nasty taste in my mouth. My mother shifted uncomfortably. "See? Even you don’t really want to talk about it."

"It’s just different, but I’m willing to try," Mama pressed on, "I just want you to be happy again." I scoffed at the preposterous prospect.

"If you really want me to be happy, than bring me my dogs back and get off my back about this," I snapped, feeling myself getting angry at nothing in particular. "And while you’re at it, build me a time machine so I can go back and not be a fucking idiot and fuck over the best thing that’s ever happened to me." The anger was building and spilling out in the form of tears now. I wiped them away like an angry child. "This is bullshit! I’m not on crack or something. Why am I getting some fucking intervention? Is the rest of the family coming to express their concerns or can I be excused from this damn conversation?" My chest was heaving from my rant and I was choking on my tears. My mind was in such an emotional haze that it was hard to really see.

My stepfather looked angry, shaking his head as he rubbed my mother’s back. She was crying silently, wiping her eyes with a tissue I never saw her pull out. "I just want you to tell me how you’re feelin’, baby. That’s all your mama’s askin’ for…" I bit my bottom lip, fuming. She wanted feelings? Fine. I’d give her feelings.

"You want to know what it feels like? It feels like somebody reached inside of my gut and ripped out everything in me," I said, struggling to explain as my tears fell heavily down my face, "It feels like…like I had the once in the lifetime chance to have a better life and I gave it up for one stupid night. I feel like I can’t breathe sometimes when I think about her. It hurts so much that I think my heart is literally breaking in half. I can’t talk about it because… it… hurts…It hurts so much, Mama…" I couldn’t tell you when she got up from the couch or when I ended up on my knees, sobbing in the middle of the floor like some wounded child, but there we were: crying. Holding one another in what felt like forever. I couldn’t calm down. I had been packing up so much that it seemed to be flowing out uncontrollably now.

"You’re gonna be okay, baby…I promise," my mother cooed softly, stroking my back with her loving hands. I was trembling with my sobs. My heart was bleeding. I left Sash in my mind freely and I cried for the loss of her. I cried for making my mother cry. I cried because I knew that I would never be okay, despite my mother’s promise. I did this. I ruined this. I had to live with this – if it’s still considered ‘living’ when Sash isn’t there.

In such a short time, I found a part of me I never knew was really missing. And now it was gone.

I couldn’t stop my tears.

-------------------------------------

"You're just about seven weeks," Marissa said, turning to smile at me. I only saw her actions through the corner of my eyes. I was preoccupied, to say the least, with the image on the screen ahead of me. It was shoddy and blue-black; the lightest blue - almost white - was peanut shaped and tinier than expected. It was weird to know that little thing, peanut-shaped and small as it is, was going to change my life forever. My eyes couldn't tear away from the image. There was something completely surreal about this moment.

"That's the head," Marissa continued when I didn't respond, moving the electronic device over my belly from a different angel. The lubricating gel was still cold and I shivered when some of it spread further across my warm skin. "You have to wait a little while longer to figure out what you're having. You're pretty early into this pregnancy." I almost whimpered when she shut the machine down, like someone had changed the channel during my favorite television show.

"Can I get a copy of the sonogram?" I asked before adding, "Make it two copies."

"One for the dad?" she guessed and I frowned.

"Yeah... I think he'd want one." I must've sounded bitter because Marissa gave me a sympathetic smile.

"Don't worry about it, Sasheirah," she told me comfortingly, "I've seen a lot more unprepared women walk through this door with babies. I've seen little girls walk through here with babies...Trust me, you're ahead of the game. You have a great career and you at least know who the father is... And apparently he's going to be in this child's life. Kudos to you… seriously." I nodded, knowing it was true, as she handed me a towel to wipe off my stomach. The blue gel was odorless, but it still managed to make me a little queasy.

"I know I'm a lot better off than other people," I sighed, "I just didn't plan this."

"Most don't," she chimed in, "But you'll be an amazing mother. I can tell." I took the compliment as she washed her hands after discarding her gloves. "I'll be right back with the sonograms." She left the room, shutting the door behind her. I pulled my shirt back over my stomach and took deep breaths. It had been a week since I confirmed my pregnancy and I still haven't called Justin. I was forcing myself to do it today rather than waiting another week. It wasn't very nice to keep his child away, but a part of me wanted to stick to my self-promise to never speak to him again.

I shook my head. The man always found a way under my skin and now he found a way inside my damn ovaries. It was infuriating to know we now had a lifetime bond. I was so sure I could withstand the months and months of loneliness and depression before finally accepting my heartbreak and moving on. It would be easy since he was in California. But now, with this child on the way, I would have to see him more often and probably talk to him ten times more... That was going to be unbearable.

My heart tore in little, sharp spurts that seared through my chest at the very thought of seeing his face and hearing his voice in person again. I'm sure he'd fly here eventually for baby things. Justin on a voicemail was hard to ignore... I can't imagine the intensity of his eyes or the smell of his skin... I missed him so very much despite my anger and it left me ruined. I wanted so badly for things to be good. I wanted him here, watching that sonogram in amazement, holding my hand... I wanted to celebrate this with him openly and happily. I wanted our love back.

But as much as I knew he wanted the same, I couldn't do it. Not now, not ever. Once a cheater, always a cheater. Even if he never cheated again, I still got sick knowing he slept with someone else. Sex was a complicated act and I spent so many nights trying to understand how he could do something that intimate with someone else and never think of me. I tortured myself wondering if he touched her or kissed her or made love to her the same way he did me. I didn't want to think about it, but it came to mind from time to time despite my effort to push it far from my mind.

I sniffled and wiped my face in shock at the moisture that nearly soaked my hand. I didn't realize I was crying, especially this much, but once I did, I found myself sobbing. I covered my face with my hands and cried quietly, chest heaving and nose stuffy. I was suddenly overwhelmed with emotion. I was fighting so hard to calm down, but I realized that I was terrified. I was scared of being a mother and I was scared to have Justin back in my life again. I didn’t want to be a terrible influence on the child or say the wrong things or make the wrong decision that will mark them forever. I didn't want to fall for Justin again. I knew he'd try and I knew myself well enough to know that it was going to take the grace of God to not slip up.

I considered taking him back before, just because of how sorry I knew he was, but I talked myself out of it over and over again, with no opposition from Clare who actually supported my decision to ignore him. If Clare agreed, it had to be right. Yet, here I was, crying because I hurt so badly from the thought of never being with him ever again...

"Here's your-" The door swung open and Marissa came through without warning. I turned my back to her from my spot on the examination table. She had seen me anyway, her face slightly shocked when I caught a glimpse of her. I calmed myself down to hiccups and sniffles, but I felt a hand on my back as she came up behind me. She silently handed me some Kleenex she somehow picked up.

"T-thank you," I stammered with my head bowed. I was so embarrassed. I blew my nose and she rubbed my back again in comforting circles.

"Hey now," she cooed, "No tears. You're carrying the most beautiful thing in the world. You're going to be a mother, Sash. That's beautiful." I took in her words, trying to ignore the gaping hole in my chest. The pain was dulling down, but it was still evident as I nodded and sat up straighter.

"I know," I sniffled, "I'm just so... emotional right now. It's a lot to take in." She nodded understandingly, giving me a sympathetic look as I finally turned to face her.

"You'll be fine," she said simply, handing me a manila envelope, "Here's your copies. If you ever need anything, medically or not, just call me." I took the envelope and gave her a weak smile as I slid from the tabletop.

"I will, thanks," I mumbled, trying to get myself together.

"I'll give you a minute to clean up," she told me, gesturing toward the sink, "Help yourself." I made my way to the sink and she exited the room. I grabbed my purse from the counter beside the sink, digging for my mirror. I gasped at my reflection once I got a hold of it. Yikes.

I washed my face until I was refreshed, adding some drops of Visine into my red eyes. I applied gloss and mascara until I looked presentable. I had to walk through the entire hospital to get to the parking lot through the lobby. I couldn't look crazy. I didn't want everybody to know I was losing my mind, even though I was. Once I was satisfied with my look, I practically ran to my car, giving quick waves to the 'hey's and 'hello's from co-workers. They gave me looks, but shrugged it off as I lied about being in a hurry.

But once I reached the sanctity of my car, I realized that I was rushing. I needed to get home, call Justin, and cry about it later. I was in a hurry to get past the hole in my chest and the drama of the call. My stomach was swarming with butterflies. I didn't know if I could withstand the tension much longer as I gunned down Broad Street and turned on my corner. The engine revved for no reason, as I grew anxious. I parked haphazardly, almost passing my house in my daze. I jumped out of my car and locked the doors, holding the manila envelope close to my chest.

I was breathing weird when I got to the front door of my house, my hands trembling as I grabbed my keys and fumbled to get inside. Bob meowed when I slammed the door shut behind me and locked it, walking quickly to the couch before plopping down. Bob sat at my feet as I kicked off my shoes and reached over the lamp table to grab the cordless phone. I didn't even bother removing my hoodie. My memory was sharp and I dialed his cell phone number with untouchable speed. My heart pounded in my chest as the line paused dramatically before ringing started.

I closed my eyes and hugged myself as the third ring came. My heart was throbbing as his voicemail popped up, his pre-recorded voice tearing right through me. I hung up as soon as the beep sounded. I stared at my phone, wondering if a voicemail would've sufficed, but the thought was soon interrupted as my phone vibrated in my palm. Matthew's name popped up on the screen and my breath caught in my throat. I should've expected a call back, but not so soon.

I stared at the screen before closing my eyes and flipping it open. I pressed the device to my ear silently.

"Sash!" Justin called into the line, clearly excited. He waited for a moment as I squeezed my eyes closed tighter. My chest was aching from the sound of him. "Hello? Are you still there?" I swallowed nothing as my throat dried.

"H-hey," I stammered, rolling my eyes at my lack of eloquence.

"Hey," Justin said, smoothly. He sighed into the line. "It’s so good to hear your voice." I really wished the feeling was mutual, but my heart still fluttered in my chest at his words despite the pain.

"I…umm…" I shook my head, blanking. I should’ve written this down. How do I say this?

"Are you okay?" Justin asked, concerned. I guess I would have to be damn near dying to be calling him after all this time.

"No," I answered honestly. "I’m not okay."

"Of course not," Justin mumbled sadly, "That was stupid to ask." I could see him kicking himself and it made me long to comfort him.

"It was stupid," I said bitterly, despite my opposing emotions, "But that’s not what I want to talk about, Justin."

"Good ‘cause I don’t want to talk about it either," he said before adding, "I’m tired of talking about it…"

"You’re tired?" I scoffed before swallowing my anger. "You know what? This is exactly why I didn’t want to call."

"Why are you mad?" Justin asked calmly. I had a million answers for that one, but I bit my tongue.

"Don’t worry about me. I’m not mad," I denied, "I am in a hurry, so we have to end this conversation soon." It was a lie, but I needed a quick get away when I finished giving the news.

"If you don’t have time to talk, don’t rush it now. You can call me any time you’re ready."

"Justin, I don’t want to talk, I just want you to listen," I groaned, "I don’t want to fix us, okay? That’s not why I’m calling. If I could have things my way, I would never speak to you again. I’d erase you from my got damn mind and just have a moment of peace in what feels like forever."

"Then what are you calling for if you still obviously hate me?" Hate. It was weird when he said it out loud like that. I realized that I didn’t hate Justin – the man himself – I hated stupid, inconsiderate, selfish, and disgusting mistakes he’s made. I hate that he broke every promise and most definitely shattered my heart in the process. I hated that as much as I wanted to smack him for it, I wanted him back so badly.

I decided against addressing the issue of hate out loud. "I’m calling because I just came from the doctor’s office…and I have a sonogram in my hand… with our… baby…on it." I guess I said it without saying it. I waited as I heard some shuffling on Justin’s end.

"What are you trying to say?" he whispered hurriedly, like he was rushing off somewhere. I rolled my eyes, unwilling to say the words.

"What do you mean what am I trying to say?" I whispered back for no reason.

"You can’t be saying what I think you’re saying," he said softly, raising his voice a little. I felt my heart sink a bit at the panic in his tone. I thought he’d be happy, but he was freaking out – at least on the verge to having a mental breakdown. I frowned deeply. I guess Jessica was the only one allowed to have his damn children.

"Forget that I called," I said bitterly, prepared to hang up the line before Justin cut in.

"No, no, no!" he adamantly whined. "I didn’t mean to sound like that."

"I don’t need your help," I said, fighting the tears down. I hated being so damn emotional, but the thought of Justin not being excited for our child was devastating to me. "I didn’t call to bombard you with fatherhood. I just thought you’d like to know. Maybe set up some visiting rights or something, but you don’t have to be around. I don’t even want you within a hundred feet of me anyway –"

"Sash, I’m so happy right now," Justin broke in.

"Yeah right…" I mumbled sarcastically, wiping away the few tears that fell from my eyes.

"You know me too well to think that I wouldn’t be excited about having this child right now."

"Actually, I don’t think I know you very well at all," I said bitterly, "Your reactions to certain situations have left me very surprised before."

"I thought we weren’t discussing that," he retorted.

"Whatever," I childishly spat.

"How far along are you?" Justin asked.

"I’m just about two months," I said into the line, stroking Bob’s head as he purred in satisfaction.

"We have to wait a little while to know the sex, right?" Justin chimed in. "At least we had to when Jes– " He cut his sentence short and I felt a sharp jab in my chest at the thought of her. Real hate flowed through my veins for her. As much of a desperate slut I knew she was, it still burned me up inside that she got him – even for a night – she had him. It made me sick to think about.

"Yeah, I should know in a few weeks," I continued, breaking into the awkward silence. "I’ll call to let you –"

"Call for what?" Justin asked, "I’m staying in Philly." You can insert the tire screech. My brain stopped at lightening speed. My heart, however, picked up at lightening speed.

"What the hell are you talking about?" My mind was blank now. All I felt was that phone against my ear, telling me things I never want to hear.

"I leased that place downtown while we…were together," he paused and it was painful to just know he was hurting from the past tense. "I told you I would get it so I wouldn’t be in LA all the time."

"Are you here now?" I asked.

"No, California, but I’ll be flying out as soon as possible."

"There’s no need for you to live here," I argued, "We’re not together. I don’t need you living here." The words were harsh, but my defenses were so high. My heart was preparing itself for battle. I felt another layer of wall get built around it from just the mere thought of Justin being so close.

"It’ll be easier for doing baby stuff," Justin said softly, ego clearly bruised, "You’ve gone to an appointment without me already. I wanted to be there."

"It wasn’t that exciting," I lied, "Besides, I got you a damn souvenir. I’ll mail you your sonogram. Express shipping if I have to." Justin sighed into the line.

"Sash, you don’t understand," he pleaded suddenly, "I have to be there. I want to be there. I had the opportunity to be a father once and it fell through…and now I’m getting a second chance to do this. I don’t want to miss a single thing." I closed my eyes to calm my frantic heartbeat. I was sad for Justin now – having loss a child. I love him and I couldn’t deny him at least the right to be around for all baby things, even if it meant I’d have to suffer through him being so close.

"Strictly baby stuff," I reiterated, "No talks of us or any other nonsense."

"I can’t promise you that," Justin said honestly, "I love you too much not to try."

"Don’t say stuff like that," I said, "You should love me enough to leave me alone."

"I can’t," he said, "Sash, my family tried to drag me home to Tennessee. They had an intervention because I’ve been so miserable. I miss you so damn bad. I feel like half of me has died or something…"

I certainly didn’t need to hear that. I didn’t want to know he was miserable. "You don’t get to feel hurt," I said softly, willing myself not to cry again. "I’m the one who got hurt."

"I know…" Justin breathed, "I’m so sorry, Sash. You know I am."

"That doesn’t matter," I sniffled despite myself, "You still cheated." I shook my head in disbelief. I couldn’t imagine in ten million years that I’d actually be having this conversation. As much as I feared this, in the back of my mind I knew that Justin loved me, but now…not so much.

"And I still can’t tell you why," he told me, "I thought that night over a million times and I can’t… I can’t imagine what would possess me to ruin what is the best thing that’s ever happened to me."

"Whatever," I said, feeling myself welling up with emotion, "I don’t care to discuss this anymore. You’re about to be a father and I’m gonna be a mother. That’s our focus."

"I know that," Justin said, "That’s a concern too. I don’t want this kid to grow up in a broken home."

"I grew up in a broken home," I said, "At least you’ll still be around. My father walked out on us."

"I didn’t know that," Justin said.

"You never asked," I retorted, "It doesn’t matter anyway. We don’t have to be together to be good parents. We can be civilized without all the love."

"The love is there though," Justin pointed out.

"Stop arguing with me," I snapped. "If you can’t be here for the child and not try anything, than you can’t come down here."

"I’m gonna be there for the child," Justin relented, "I can respect your need for space as well."

"Good," I said, "Than I guess we can hang up now."

"Sure," Justin said reluctantly, "Should I call you when I land tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow?" I choked out.

"Too soon?" Justin asked innocently.

"Uh…yeah," I stated in a ‘duh’ tone, "Can we try a week or something?"

"That’s too long," Justin agonized, "Two days."

"You might as well come tomorrow!" I groaned.

"Fine, I’ll see you tomorrow."

"No, that’s not what I’m saying!" I argued.

"Well, that’s too bad, I’m excited," he gushed, "We can get started on building you a nursery with that spare bedroom. That should take some work anyway."

"I don’t believe you," I grumbled. "You’re suppose to be doing whatever I say."

"Fine…" Justin whined, "I’ll see you five days."

"That’s not a week," I told him.

"You said a week, I said two days. Seven days minus two days equals five days. I figured it was a compromise between the two choices." I rolled my eyes.

"That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard," I fumed, "But five is good enough."

"Okay than," he said, "I’ll call you."

"Text," I slipped in, "It’s just… easier when you’re not … talking." He made a noise that was a grunt and a whine combined.

"A text then," he finally agreed, "I’ll see you soon."

"I suppose," I said, lingering on the line for just a moment too long. "Bye."

"Goodbye, Sashy," he said softly before I hung up. I stared at my phone for a moment and took a deep breath.

Five more days.

I couldn't tell you how many times and how many ways I tried to put on my jeans this morning... The ones Justin had made especially for me. I was rolling around, sucking in, and everything in-between. I finally gave up, scared that I would crush the baby if I didn't stop my nonsense.

"Sorry, sweetums," I apologized to my belly, rubbing on it tiredly as I sat on the edge of my bed. I settled on some black sweat pants and a stretch white t-shirt. The thick white ankle socks on my feet created a comfortable shield between me and my Addidas slides. The so-called massaging bristled-soles of those sandals hurt the hell out of my feet, but felt good when slightly cushioned. My ponytail was in a messy bun and small silver rings adored my ears. This was Justin's welcome back outfit. Even though my jeans had obviously shrunk (which is easier to say than admit I've gained weight), I realized that it didn't matter what I looked like. The baby couldn't see me and this was just about the baby. Not about looking good for a man who didn't deserve me.

But... I sigh as I look down at my hand. A Tiffany's charm bracelet was piled up in my palm before I stretched it out and let the charms dangle freely. Each little piece was breaking me down. My eyes focused on the heart charm and I was halfway expecting it to suddenly shatter just like my own heart.

Liquid blinded me as my eyes welled up with tears. I closed my hand around the jewelry before I stood and walked to my bureau, sniffling and wiping away tears. I placed the damned bracelet in my underwear drawer, tucked beneath the sexy lacey nonsense I'd never wear again, and took in my tear-stained reflection.You love him, but you'll get over it. You're stronger than this, Sash. You are... My mental comforting was enough to make me dry my eyes, but not enough to convince me of its truth. I left my room not encouraged, but not discouraged either. Just neutral. I was learning that it was better to feel nothing than to feel anything at all.

I was halfway down the hall, between my room and the bathroom, when I stopped walking. My stopped at the door there, realizing I never even noticed it anymore. Not sense I first moved in and told myself it would be an office or game room or something or other.

I was hesitant to touch the doorknob, almost like it was forbidden, but I pushed past that and opened the door. It creaked just a bit as I pushed it back further to enter the empty space. There was a large window against the wall across from me. It almost took over the entire top half of the wall, but it let a lot of sunlight flood the space. There is some dust along the edges of the windowsill and the hardwood flooring. There were some boxes full of photographs and other stuff I never found a place for or should've thrown out long ago. They were all tucked into one corner by a small closet door. The plain white walls were boring, but could be painted over easily. This room would be the nursery. It was modest in size, but it would do.

I could see the pastel colors taking over the room. The crib would be in the corner, the changing table beside it. By the baby's bureau, a rocking chair placed. It will be used to nurse and rock the baby to sleep slowly as he or she is tucked safely in my arms. A mobile that hangs from the crib will sing a sweet tinkling song that will keep the baby at peace. I could hear anything through these thin walls, but a baby monitor will be in place, for sure. I would worry way too much. Maybe the crib will be in my room for a while at first, just until the baby's a little older... I placed my hand over my stomach, feeling worried about the safety and well being of this bundle inside of me. I was already attached. I could already feel its warm, soft body in my arms...

I didn't realize my eyes had closed in that quiet moment until my phone vibrated in my pocket once, indicating a text message.Hey I’m outside. Can u let me in? I rolled my eyes at Justin's message, but my heart jerked a little as I closed the middle door and headed downstairs. Bob meowed at me as I passed by him to get to the door. I shot him a dirty look and he just stared up at me before sitting beside me as I hesitated at the door. He meowed again.

"What?" I snapped and he stood, sliding smoothly between my legs, rubbing his fur all over my sweats in a sweet gesture of affection. I felt myself softening up. My poor little cat has done nothing but warm me and here I was, snapping on him for no reason. I bent down and scooped him up into my arms. He purred as I pet right behind his ears. "I'm just a little hormonal," I explained to him, "Don't take it to heart if I'm a little mean." Bob turned his little head and licked the tips of my fingers with his rough tongue. I smiled and took a breath, turning back to the door. Operation Justin has just been activated.

---------------------------------------------------

I wondered if she would even open the door. She didn't reply to my text. Maybe she was sleeping? I knew that whole texting thing was dumb. Who the hell tells someone to text them? I know it's hard to talk and whatnot after everything, but jeez... I can't even call to let you know I'm outside, especially if you could be knocked out cold because you're tired and pregnant?

It was so strange to know Sash was pregnant with my child. Not strange in a bad way, but just out of place. It was the worst timing. Sash and I torn apart, Jessica calling me every five seconds, my mother disappointed in me (despite what she says, I can see it in her face) and most of all, I hate myself. I don't deserve to father her children. She shouldn't have to deal with me. I wouldn't deal with me if I was her, and yet she's granting me this tremendous favor by allowing me to be around for the pregnancy.

I couldn't understand what I what I was thinking... I should've broken down my bedroom door and begged her to take me back, but I was such an inexcusable coward. I let my dumped ass feel sorry for itself and I got so weak and felt so unwanted that I convinced myself that sleeping with Jessica was okay. That if Sash didn't want me, at least someone else did... I can't understand why I didn't stop and think that maybe, just maybe, Sash fought me so hard just because she's stubborn as fuck and wants to the last word. She would've told me to go kill myself if we bickered any longer, and I surely wouldn't have committed suicide. Why the hell did I take that break up seriously? How many times has she tried to break us up because she was scared or angry? How many times did I see past her facade?

I guess I was just so mad that I wanted to believe it so I could stay mad and hurt and do something stupid. Really stupid. It cost me my heart and now it's costing me my child.

I sighed and shook my head of all my jumbled thoughts. This is all I did. Replay that moment and all the consequences over and over. I rearranged and dissected every part, every conversation, every moment and tried to understand what was going through my mind, but I needed to stop. I was going to see Sash any second now I had to mentally prepare myself for the shock -

I stopped breathing when the door swung open and there she was with Bob scooped in her arms. She stared at my chest as she spoke.

"Hello." It was monotone and I almost didn't hear it as my eyes took her in. She was comfortably dressed and her sweet scent was light in the air, but my nose caught it. She looked the same, slightly pudgier, but as beautiful as I remember. She was glowing in the same way Jessica did when she was pregnant. My mother had pointed out the glow to me and it was evidently true.

I felt my arms rising to huge her petite figure, squeeze her and kiss her like I would normally do, but I pushed them down. I told myself no and like an angry child, my heart threw a fit. It was pounding, breaking, and shattering in my chest because it was not allowed to love and show affection. I would be crossing enemy lines if I touched her. Small as she was, I'm sure she'd put me in my place.

"Hey," I breathed, shoving my hands in my pockets and looking away from her face.

"You don't have to stare at me," she mumbled. I glanced up at her. Her brown eyes latched onto mine and my entire core shook in an unusual uneasiness. I turned to the floor just to stop the feeling.

"I'm not staring," I lied.

"Whatever, Justin," she grumbled, "I know I've gained weight. No need to poke and prod me with your eyes."

"I'm not," I adamantly denied, "Sash... you're really beautiful. You know I love -" Shit. I bit my lip and shook my head. I'm not even in the door yet and I'm putting my foot in my mouth. "I'm sorry. That was stupid." My stomach was in knots. I didn't look at her.

"Just come inside and get your sonogram," she mumbled, trying to sound indifferent, but failing miserably. I just nodded and went along, following her steps as she turned and walked inside. The house was warm and it smelled just like her. Everything hurt my eyes to see. That couch... that damn couch full of movies and kisses and late conversations. Even Bob was now a painful sight, all tucked in her arms, not worried about me. I felt like a stranger in a house that used to feel like home. A place that made me feel completely normal...A place where I forgot about the outside world and could just be, literally for a while, but even after I got my memory back, I still didn't feel like the man I was outside to the world or even to my family. Everything was different with Sash. I didn't have to impress her and if I was upset, she didn't press me about it. She gave me space without ever leaving me alone. She loved me even when she could've taken advantage of me. She was the most selfless, caring human being, even after all her hurt, and now... Now I just jabbed another whole in her unhealed heart...

I was so caught up in the chaos in my head that I walked straight into Sash, who yelped and turned to push me away. I stumbled back from her shove, shocked out of my thoughts completely.

"Justin, what the hell?" she griped, sucking her teeth like an annoyed preteen.

"I'm sorry, I wasn't paying attention to where I was going," I told her honestly.

"I'm sure..." she mumbled, rolling her eyes as she bent over briefly to quickly grab a large manila envelope from the coffee table. "Here." She slapped the envelope against my chest, "You can go now."

"But I have the layout," I said, fumbling to hold the envelope and dig through my inner coat pocket. I found the folded up piece of paper and Sasheirah wrinkled her nose. "I know it's not in the most organized spot, but I didn't want to lose it or anything, so I put it where it would be the safest, which is as close to my body as possible."

"Well, I'm glad you didn't shove it into your pants," she said sourly, "Let me see it so you can go." I felt my heart sink into my belly as I tried to ignore the unsettling feeling. I didn't want to go. Not so soon. I felt like a crack fiend, denied another hit. I needed to be around her. I needed to see her, even if it hurt. I couldn't touch her or barely talk to her, but she would be there, speaking and breathing and I could know she was real.

"Can we go upstairs and go over things?" I asked, desperate. She huffed and rolled her eyes.

"Is that necessary?" she asked, "I know what the room looks like."

"Well, I'm not that familiar with the area, so I need to know if I have to make adjustments." She stared at me blankly before rolling her eyes and turning towards the stairs. I was still for a moment, watching her walk with her feminine sway; missing how I used to be able to hold onto those hips and walk so close behind her that her hair would touch my face...

"Are you coming or not?" Sash asked, clearly annoyed with my spacing out. I felt blood rushing to my cheeks and I looked down as I began to follow her with a response. I looked at the stairs and took long whiffs of the air as we ascended towards the second floor. Her perfume was lingering behind her and I was in heaven. I was just a step behind her and could touch her very easily if I dared to, but I had a feeling she'd swiftly kick me down the steps to my death if I tried.

I frowned deeply once we reached the second floor and stopped midway through the hall. Sash turned the knob of the middle room door and pushed it open before crossing her arms over her chest. I took that as an okay for entering the room and so I stepped inside. I glanced around, the room looking the same as I remembered it. I never told Sash, but when she was working, I'd sneak in here and look through the boxes at all the random things in them. Yearbooks, birthday cards, photos of her ex and her... It infuriated me that she kept them. Even now it pissed me off, but I never wanted to ask her to get rid of them, in fear that she'd be angry I had gone through her things.

"Well, I wasn't too far off with the planning," I said, over my shoulder. I could hear Sash taking slow steps into the room.

"Can I see that paper now?" she asked, coming up beside me. I looked down at her petite frame, which had relaxed. Her arms hung from her sides. I handed her the folded sheet of paper and she snatched it from my hands.

"That wasn't very nice," I said disapprovingly. She rolled her eyes again, ignoring me, as she unfolded the page. It happened so quickly that I might've imagined it, but I swore I saw a smile on her face before it fell.

"I had something like this in mind," she confessed, "I like the mobile on the ceiling."

"Yeah, I figured that it was better than the traditional mobile and that the baby could keep it a while longer, through the toddler years..." I smiled to myself, picturing the terrible twos. That kid would surely get a foot in the ass getting on Sash's nerves. It would be a sight to see.

"Yeah, that's what I was thinking," Sash agreed, making me happy that I had done something right by her, "But what's with all the pink?"

"What do you mean?" I asked. She turned the page toward me and I shrugged. "You don't like the pink color scheme?"

"I don't like that you're assuming we're having a girl," Sash told me, shocking the hell out of me.

"I thought that you'd want a girl," I said innocently.

"Not all women want girls," she sighed, "Boys are way easier...to raise anyway."

I ignored her dig at me. "Girls are so much...cuter. I want to have a little girl." Now she was the one to look surprised.

"Really?" Sash asked and I nodded. "You're so weird."

"Not all men want boys," I mocked, "Besides, I want to have the whole 'daddy's little girl' thing. I want to protect her from the world and be there for the father-daughter dances..." I felt myself turning bashful from her silence and staring. "I dunno... I guess it is weird."

"No..." Sash said softly, "It's not...weird. I guess I'm just not used to fathers wanting daughters. I used to think that my dad left because my mother had all girls. I thought it pissed him off." She laughed at herself and I smirked softly. I could see a certain void in her, a kind of sadness she never spoke about. It mad me feel like an even bigger bastard for hurting her. She had more issues than Cosmo. I didn't need to add another.

"Well, you still had your mom," I tried to chime in and she rolled her eyes.

"That reminds me, I have to tell her I'm knocked up," Sash groaned in agony.

"Don't say it like that," I grimaced, "You make it seem like you had a one night stand or something. That child was conceived out of love."

"Either way I'm pregnant and it's by you, who I'm not with any longer... Did I mention you were white? That might be an issue too," Sash rambled, "Speaking of race, how did your family take the news? Should I be leaving town or am I safe here?"

"That's not funny," I grumbled, "And I told my mother and Trace. They both probably told the world by now, so I guess everybody knows. I haven't heard from anyone yet."

"What about you favorite cousin?" she said sarcastically, "I bet she's all fired up about this."

"Rach and I aren't speaking," I confessed, rolling my eyes, "She hates me."

"Why?" Sash asked and I shrugged, becoming uneasy.

"Well... you know..." I mumbled off. Sash gave me a look of confusion, "Well...the whole...Jessica thing kinda -"

"I got it," Sash broke in, shifting away from me, "Say no more." I felt my stomach knot up again as silence fell over us.

"I guess I should go," I said after a moment. Sash nodded and we headed out of the room. I walked slowly down the stairs and this time she walked behind me. I wanted nothing more than to get this awkwardness out from around us, but it hung heavily in the arm as silence only deepened it.

I sighed once we reached the door. I turned to face her as we stopped walking. She glanced up at me and caught my eyes for a moment. I saw how much she wanted to say, but never would. I also saw how hard it was to even look at me. How could I do this to us? I wanted to ask her, as if she'd know.

"Whenever you want to get started on the room, let me know," I voiced, "We can go shopping for stuff. I figured we could go with white or oak furniture. The paint can come last. We have a lot of baby stuff we need to get.

"Yeah, I'll call you," Sash said quickly, staring at the floor instead of me, "Or text you. Whichever."

"I prefer phone calls," I told her, "We can be brief."

"Trust me, we will," Sash assured, "Got your sonogram?" I had forgotten I was holding it, but I pulled it out where it was tucked beneath my arm.

"Yep," I said simply, "Thank you. You didn't have to." Sash shrugged.

"It's your baby too," she told me nonchalantly. Silence.

"Well, you still didn't have to," I reiterated, not quite ready to leave, but unable to stand the awkwardness.

"Well...I guess you should be going," Sash said gently, "I'm sure you have lots to do."

"I do have some unpacking," I sighed, "Umm...would you like to help me out? I got a couple boxes and -"

"Justin," Sash said, annoyed. She reluctantly looked me in the eyes, "That's not baby-related."

"Well, I am the father of the baby, so if you help me you're technically doing..." She gave me a bored look as I trailed off. "...No?" I asked and she shook her head.

"Not even close," she told me, "You'll be unpacking alone."

"That's never any fun," I tried again.

"Goodbye, Justin," Sash said firmly. I offered her a weak smile before turning around. I unlocked the door slowly, pulling it open before I turned back to her.

"Call me if you need anything, anything at all," I stressed, "Even if it's a pint of Ben & Jerry's at three in the morning." This time she smiled and though it was small and brief, it was genuine and I had put it there.

"Sure," she told me, "But go unpack."

"Okay..." I whined before slowly stepping outside into the sunny afternoon, "Call me."

"I will," Sash assured. It took everything in me to walk to my truck without stealing another glance at her beautiful face, but I did. I couldn't be so forceful, but it came out automatically whenever I was around Sash. I knew it was going to irritate her, but I knew that she'd eventually crack. I just had to be patient. I had to start respecting her wishes of space and no romance...

But how do you tell yourself not to fight for the one thing worth fighting for?

------------------------------------------------

I let go of the breath I was holding the moment he was gone. My head was pressed against the door as I leant against it, fighting off the scream that wanted to rip through my throat. Got damn that man! He was just impossible. He wasn't even in the house yet and he was checking me out and saying things I didn't want him to say...

And the nerve of him looking as good as he did. Justin had gotten bigger, but not in the I-ate-too-many-donut-holes-and-now-I-have-more-rolls-than-a-bakery big, but in a weight lifting, working out, six-pack-turned-eight-pack kinda way. It made me sick. He looked so good after our break up and I looked like a two-ton whale.

That was not what my self-esteem needed.

And then he had to smell good too. Walking by him, near him, after him, beside him... His scent was everywhere and I wanted it out. It was messing with my head. I couldn't even look at him. He was all dog eyed and sorry...

I sighed, not knowing what to do. I would have to call him. That room needed work and I wasn't in the mood to do it at all, let alone by myself, but I certainly wasn't in the mood to have Justin around so much. Maybe I should've waited longer. Maybe letting him be around me so soon was a rash decision... I should've put my foot down and mailed that sonogram. It's what got him here in the first place.

I push away from the door and stalk towards the kitchen. I needed to find a better stress reliever, but for now, chocolate chip ice cream would have to do.

I was settled at the kitchen table, spooning away at my bowl of deliciousness. I didn't feel much better or much worse than I had felt before. It almost felt like Justin didn't actually come here. I did get weird knots when I realize that he was in fact here and he looked, smelled, and sounded even better than I remember. It did hurt a little to know that it was an awkward and painful experience that I would have to endure again. It hurt more to know that I had to make it a point to be a bitch to him every time he was around so he would cease his attempts to get under my skin.

Today was a test of my strength and I cracked smiles I was supposed to suppress. It scared me that I couldn't even keep a smile off my face. What if he tried to do more than that? What if he got more demanding? I shiver shot through my spine and I shook my head. I needed to get more will power, I told myself.

And I will get that power...as soon as I figure out how to stop loving him.

I sighed. These next few months would be the longest of my life.

I was staring at my telephone, hoping for it to ring.

It had been three days. Didn't she want something? Anything?

I growled at my phone and tossed it on the excruciatingly empty spot next to me. My heart had a dull, constant ache that was intensified by a memory of Sash. A momentary vision of her lying there, looking up at me with loving eyes.

My hands trailed over the navy blue sheets that were warm because I had just rolled over from that spot myself. It wasn't her body heat or scent, but my own and mine alone.

I closed my eyes and forced back the urge to cry. I wasn't gonna get her back by resting my laurels and bawling like a bitch. I had to man up. I had a lot to focus on. I had a child to raise. I had a life to adjust around that child. I had a career to focus on.If I could run away, you know I would
And I'm hurtin cause girl I never loved you like I should. . .

When your love is lost
Your whole world's thrown off. . .

I couldn't answer that without getting angry, crying, or venting for an unreasonable amount of time, so I told him I'll resubmit. I haven't been able to write a decent upbeat song. I didn't want to dance. I just wanted her back. Fuck the damn album and tours. What was my music without a muse? Break ups prior to this encouraged me to be upbeat and move on, but this break up... This break up told me to lie down like the dog I was and suffer for everything I've caused. It told me to hide deeply out of sight and never see daylight...

When the one you need don't need you
What do you do?

When love is lost. . .

But alas, I had to do something or I'd go crazy, so I stood and walked across my bedroom, barefoot and in my boxer briefs and t-shirt. I sat down at the full sized keyboard that was my only release. My hands rested on the cold white keys, feeling around for a note of interest. A chiming noise, a deep bass sound. It was all jumbled until I found a rhythm. I hummed to it, closed my eyes, and envisioned her sweet face.

I had to stop playing to choke on a silent tear that had escaped my eyes without warning. I wiped it away and started to play again. I thought I caused myself pain by running hard and far for hours at a time, but I was really just allowing myself an escape. The real way to hurt myself was to just sit and think about her. To know how deep her love was and how hard it is for her to have been cheated on by the asshole that promised her he'd never do it.

I played harder, almost slamming my hands on the keyboard in a furious pace; music was blaring in my apartment. The sound making my eardrums cloud up before I stopped, suddenly exhausted.

I felt crazy. Maybe I was losing my mind. I opened up my eyes slowly and looked around the beige room. Miscellaneous things were placed about to make it feel homey, but I wasn't home at all. The city noise from outside my large bay windows were hushed by the thick glass, but I heard some horns and engines of cars for a moment, concentrating on them for a minute.

Then my stomach growled and I was reminded that I needed to get groceries at some point and time. My refrigerator was empty like my belly because I had been ordering out or not eating at all - both of which my mother strongly disapproved of. I made a mental note to call her up tonight, but I stood from my keyboard and walked back to my bed, sitting on its edge while grabbing my phone.

I couldn't take it anymore. Even if she cursed me out, I'd at least hear her voice. I dialed the familiar digits and waited for it to ring. I sighed when I got her voicemail instantly. She had changed it.

"Hey, Sasheirah, it's Justin," I said dumbly, "Umm... I was just checking on you...and the baby, of course. Just...call me or text me, whatever you're into...So...yeah. Bye." I hung up and smacked my forehead, feeling like a lame high schooler.

I needed to eat and do something with my life that didn't make me ten times more miserable. First thing on the agenda was showering. Maybe some retail therapy? I could just take a walk around the city and get a feel for Philly. It would be nice to have Sash as a guide. Maybe I could entice her? I'm sure there was baby stuff somewhere downtown and if I got her to go for that, she couldn't fight me too much on a stop for dinner? I got giddy just thinking about it.

It was enough positive energy to get me showered, dressed, and ready to go. I made sure my cell was on and my wallet was close by in my back pocket. I made my way out of my apartment building and out into the busy lunch hour of downtown Philly. People were everywhere on Market Street and I stopped at a Starbucks for a Banana Nut bread slice and a coffee. Breakfast was down and now I had time to kill. I got a few glances, but there were no crazy paps around from what I could tell. I felt at ease strolling through the street.

I made my way through the Gallery shops and came out with two pairs of Nikes, a couple DVDs, and a McChicken sandwich I devoured into two seconds, obviously still hungry. Next was Chestnut street. I was happy to be out in the cool air, distracted by stores and people watching. I went into every store I passed, just to get a clear look. I walked quickly past LaScala's as I flashed back to dinner with Sash, who had yet to call me back.

I stopped for a photo opportunity with a fan that very sweetly asked for just one picture, which turned into three since she was with her friends. I didn't mind; feeling wanted was becoming too rare for me these days. I asked them for shopping advice and they directed me to Walnut Street. I wondered why there were so many 'Nut' names, but went where I was directed. They weren't lying, there were shops everywhere. From H&M to Tiffany's. I was in heaven, spending money everywhere. I even got my mom some things. She'd be happy. Maybe I'll fly out later this week to drop them off.

I didn't stop shopping until I had to call a cab to get all the bags home. It was still early, however. Just around four. I had left at noon time. I was disappointed, so I headed back out again after dropping off my things. There was a Border's bookstore not too far from my apartment. I decided to pay it a visit. It smelt like coffee beans as I wandered about, glancing at a few books with interesting covers. I read a map and found the parenting section on the third floor. I took the elevator up and browsed about.

They had every book imaginable. How to make a baby. How to take care of yourself after making the baby. How to take care of the baby once it's born. There were so many things to know. Honey wasn't good for infants. Playing music for the baby can help with intelligence... Craziness I never really stopped to do. I had been ill-prepared when Jessica had first gotten pregnant. It hurt that maybe if I had read some of these books, there would've been signs to prevent what happened... I sighed, not needing another thing to think about.

I felt sad that my child would've had a sibling, but I was glad to be getting this second chance. If the first baby had survived, things would be so different now. I would've been with Jessica. She wouldn't have told me she cheated. Sash would have never been in my life...

I shivered at that thought. A life without Sash didn't seem like much of a life. I further believe that we should be together because God wouldn't have taken my child away just so I could end up alone. And He certainly wouldn't have given me the chance to have another shot at fatherhood if I weren't suppose to. The last time we made love she gets pregnant. He knew what chaos would ensue and was giving me a reason to be around Sash and get back into her good graces. I knew that it was all part of a grand plan that I just had to be patient for. At least that's what told myself to keep me from going completely crazy.

It worked and lightened up my mood. I grabbed six different books on parenting and two more books on baby names. I browsed through the CD collection and found some classical music (as suggested) for the baby to listen to. I wondered if Sash would allow it, but knew she'd be intrigued with the idea. There would be no harm done if she did it or not, so there would be no argument.

I casually strolled towards the Children's area of the floor. It was brightly colored like a daycare center and covered in all types of Children's books. I saw a few from my childhood - The Cat and the Hat, Rainbow Fish, Where the Wild Things Are... Nostalgia washed over me. I never realized how much I missed being a kid. Being an adult certainly had its advantages, but when you're just a child with nothing to worry about, it was the freest you would ever be. There was no heartbreak unless Sesame Street was cut off or vegetables were served. There were no relationships, jobs, demands, and responsibilities. It was you, your books, and your favorite toy.

"Do you need help finding anything?" I turned towards the voice of a petite brunette. She was wearing her black Border's uniform polo and a headset. She looked younger than me, probably a teenager.

"Nope, I'm fine," I said, "Thank you though."

"Here's a basket," she said, pulling out a bright red one out of nowhere. I accepted it, dropping all my items into it. My arms no longer felt weighed down.

"Thanks," I said again. I went back to browsing, but the girl remained. I looked at her through the corner of my eyes.

"Can I ask you something?" she asked timidly and I knew that look from anywhere.

"Sure," I said simply.

"Are you... Justin?" I furrowed my brows as I faced her, feigning confusion.

"Justin who?" I asked.

"Oh...never mind," she said, "You just look really alike..."

"Ohhh..." I said, "Justin Timberlake, you mean?"

"Yeah," she said sheepishly. "Do you get that a lot?"

"All the time," I smirked, "But my name's Matthew, sorry."

"It's okay," she shrugged, "I was just curious." She walked away, glancing back at me with a small smile. Maybe she knew I was full of shit, maybe she didn't. Either way, I didn't really care. I was just wishing I really was Matthew. Then I'd be with Sash making more babies instead of buying books about it...

I picked up six more books before I finally decided to check out. I was waited on fairly quickly before I was on my way back to my apartment again. I walked a little slower to kill more time. Borders only took me an hour. I was hungry again, but was waiting on Sash to call. I wanted to have dinner with her so badly that my entire body ached. I would rather starve than eat alone.

But I knew I'd be eating alone. Even if Sash called, she wouldn't want dinner with me. She doesn't want anything to do with me. I checked my phone for a text and there was nothing. I sighed and wandered towards a Wendy's down the street from Borders.

A burger and fries for me, myself, and I.

-------------------------------------------------

I stared down at my bowl of Vanilla Bean ice cream. It still had some of the maple syrup I had drizzled over it dripping down the side of the melting scoop I had left (after I devoured two of the three I placed in the bowl). I was trying to ignore the calories packed into this little treat, which I didn't need, but had to have because for a moment all I could focus on was my ice cream. And if I was thinking about my ice cream and how good it tasted, I didn't have to think about anything else. I didn't have to think about the baby growing inside me. I didn't have to worry about maternity leave, or telling my family. I didn't have to close my eyes and push out the rest of my mundane, stressful world.

And I most certainly didn't have to think about him.

That didn't last too long. Like all good things, it came to an end and I've been staring at my ice cream ever since. It didn't help that he called and left that pathetically adorable voicemail that almost made me call him back. Almost. I wasn't that stupid or desperate or weak...and even if I was, I refused to show it.

But I missed him. Dear Lord, I missed him so much that I almost wanted to rip my heart from my chest just to ease the pain. It was torture. Torture...And I knew that I could end it if I just took him back, said it was okay, and forgot about it.

But that was the hard part. The forgetting it part. I, for one, never forgot a thing. Especially a thing that has hurt me beyond proper repair. I couldn't look at Justin and not see Jessica. I couldn't kiss him and not know her lips were there. I certainly couldn't lay with him knowing that he had laid with her as I slept a poolside away after bawling my eyes out over him.

No, I couldn't; not now and not ever. I felt like I would be the stupid girl who takes the cheater back and that somewhere down the line he'd cheat again. I couldn't trust his word and his promises or anything that related to him and I together. And if I can't trust the man I want to love, then I could not be with him because I would never be about to love him like I should.

The only thing Justin-related that I could trust was that he'd be a good father to our child. That much was sure and it was the only important thing. Taking him back just wasn't an option, despite my insides jumbling up in a heaping mess that left me all weird and unstable.

Or maybe that was nausea. I couldn't tell the difference these days with Justin Junior down there, swirling around my belly like nobody's business. Well, newsflash, Mister - It is my business and I am not happy about the puke you invoke. I wanted to keep my lunch down and not mess around with my nutrition levels, but no. Everything I ate, no matter how good it was, came right back up.

I don't even know why I was trying to finish this ice cream. I'll give myself fifteen minutes before I throw it up. It didn't help that my mind was all jumbled up with thoughts of my baby, Justin, and my mother...that I have yet to call and tell the news to. I needed to get on that. My belly was tightening with a tiniest baby bump. It would be too obvious too soon and I didn't want to get her upset. I wanted her to think I just found out and told her as soon as possible.

My mother was irritating and overbearing, but she was still my mother. She'd ridicule me for being pregnant at an untimely moment of my life, question my sanity when I say I'm having Justin Timberlake's baby, ridicule me more for not being with him in any kind of relationship, and then just accept my pregnancy and help me with all the mom advice I could imagine.

See, the last part was worth hearing, but all the crap beforehand...that is something I wish I could fast forward through. My mother could be blunt and harsh at times. I was too sensitive right now to be able to take her verbal attacks on my character, my lack of sense, and my unborn child. It's especially hard to deal with it all because I can't help but be in agreement with her. I was an idiot. I messed up. Justin screwed our relationship over, and instead of having children when I was settled and ready, I ended up pregnant after having the best sex of my life with my now ex-boyfriend for the last time. It wasn't something I wanted the kid to know. It wasn't something I wished to say out loud. Ever.

Bob's meowing throws me off focus as he jumps on the kitchen table, which is unusual. "No, Bob," I scoffed, swatting him on his side firmly, but gently, "Down!" He had the audacity to hiss at me as he did as told, knocking my phone to the floor in the process, before scurrying off.

I groaned and bent to the side to retrieve my phone. I regretted it; my mind flashing back to Justin's call and his voicemail. I wanted to hear him... I wanted to talk to him. I should probably call him back because it was common courtesy to do so... It wouldn't be a huge deal. Just a minor update on any baby changes (there are none) and maybe a check on him... I wouldn't ask directly. I didn't want him to think I still cared.

Yeah, I'll just call and say the baby's fine. No harm done, I concluded, dialing his number without a second thought. It made me sick to know it was memorized subconsciously. I waited as it rung twice before a brief silence.

"Hello?" It was a groggy voice I recognized too well. My mind flashed to early mornings after long, loving nights...

Shit. "Umm...he-hello," I stammered, clearing my throat. "What's up?"

"Oh, Sash!" Justin gushed gleefully. I heard a shuffling and then a loud thump before a groaning noise.

"Are you okay?" I asked into the line, confused.

"Ugh..." Justin sighed, "I fell out of bed."

"How?" I asked confused.

"I didn't realize I was so close to the edge..." he trailed off, "I jumped up when I realized it was you and...bam." He laughed lightly at himself, but he sounded embarrassed. I didn't want to tease him; it would be too playful of a gesture.

"Oh," I responded as monotone as possible. "Why are you sleeping so early?" I asked, glancing at the clock above my stove. It was barely into eight o'clock.

"Well... I got some Wendy's and went straight to bed afterward..." I could tell he was shrugging at this moment. "I don't have much to do around here...You're the only person I know in this city, so unless you give me a call, I'm pretty much stuck in my apartment..."

"Hmm..." I grumbled, not trying to let him guilt me. It was not my fault that he couldn't be staying with me instead of that apartment of his. And he certainly wasn't he only bored, lonely one. He was the reason why both of us had to suffer for an immeasurable amount of time.

"Well, I did actually take a walk some places," he informed me, "I bought some baby books. You know, parenting stuff... What to expect during and after pregnancy... It's all very interesting."

"Well, I'm off tomorrow, if you want to bring some of them over," I offered, my stomach knotting up.

"If I want to?" Justin chuckled, "Sash, you're my sole purpose for being here. Why wouldn't I want to see you tomorrow?"

"You mean the baby is the sole reason why you're here," I corrected.

"Even if there were no baby, I'd still be here," he said softly, as if I wouldn't hear him. I closed my eyes and let out a shaky breath.

"Then that would be called stalking," I told him, "You moving to a girl's hometown, leasing an apartment, popping up from time to time..."

He laughed lightly and though it wasn't as hearty as the other laughs I've heard from him before, it was still his laugh and it reverberated through my chest and made me tremble... I missed him just laughing.

"If that's what I'd be doing, then so be it," he said, "I'll be your stalker."

"That's not positive," I said, "You're not gonna get me back by hiding in my bushes."

"Then tell me, Sash," Justin asked, sounding more serious than necessary, "How do I get you back?"

"I'm gonna hang up," I threatened weakly, feeling the uncomfortable knot in my stomach lurching upward towards my chest.

"Sorry," Justin apologized, but I knew he wasn't, "I can't lie to you."

"I didn't say lie to me, but just don't... tell me everything," I tried to explain, feeling my gut twisting up. It was so hard talking to him, but if he said things like that... it made it that much harder.

"But you know how I feel anyway," Justin said, "What difference will it make?"

"A huge one," I said, "Even if you know how someone feels, them confirming it makes it that much stronger and I cannot talk to you if you're constantly in my face about getting back together."

"Well, I don't know what else to do," he told me, his voice as wounded as ever, "I don't want to lose you."

"You already have," I said automatically and it sounded so cold, even to me. My chest had this weird, jell-o-like feeling for a moment as my stomach knotted up twice as much as before. I wasn't nauseated, that's for sure. I was grief-striken. It felt like I was losing my grip on something truly valuable and there was nothing I could do about it. It hurt that he was hurting. It hurt that I was hurting. It hurt to know that even though I loved him and he seemed to love and miss me just as badly as I did him, it still wasn't enough. I had rebuilt my walls and nothing could sway them. I would not allow it.

There was silence on the other end for a moment. I took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, but I just can't tolerate this shit right now... I got a lot on my plate."

"I understand," Justin said meekly, "I'm sorry for upsetting you." He sounded crushed and defeated, like child who apologizes after a well-deserved time out. I didn't want to see him like that - like an innocent child who probably didn't know any better. That would be excusing him and the damage he has caused. I couldn't do that. He was a grown man with enough sense to know what he was doing when he did it and the consquences of those actions. I needed to remember that and stay firm.

"Look, we just have to stay focused," I tried to reason, "We have a baby on the way and a lot of stuff to do around the house. I gotta start baby-proofing this place, the nursery isn't done, and I still haven't told my mother -"

"Damn, Sash," Justin interrupted, "When are you gonna tell her? Mid-labor?"

"Don't be a smartass," I griped, "I'm gonna tell her... soon."

"Why is it so scary? You're grown and on your own..."

"I know, but my mother can be very critical," I said, shaking my head.

"Why? 'Cause I'm white?" he asked straightforwardly. He didn't sound offended, just factual.

"I already told you she could be a bit narrow-minded, but I'm also concerned about us not being together anymore. She'll tear me up for that," I said, pouting fiercely, "And if I tell her that I'm having Justin Timberlake's baby, she'll probably check me into a mental hospital."

"Okay, well lets just break this down," Justin said calmly, "I'm white and there's no changing that, so mama dukes is gonna have to get over it."

I nodded. "She'll still crack some jokes."

"Sash, I spent a better part of my days with you being called white boy and cracker once or twice, I think I can take that much." He had a point, but that embarrassed me.

"Sorry about the name calling," I reluctantly mumbled.

"Sash, please, that's nothing," Justin dismissed, "But as far as her thinking you're crazy for claiming you're having my baby and as far as us not being together, there is one solution."

"And what's that?" I asked cautiously.

"We should tell your mom together," he said simply. "I'll be there, living proof that I'm the father. And who said she has to know we're broken up right now? We can just pretend we're still together."

"My mother is a blood hound for drugs, sex, alcohol, and lying," I said wearily, "She'll see right through it."

"Sash, we may have issues, but we still love each other," Justin said, making me shift in my chair, "All we have to do is show that love for a moment and then we can go back to being miserable."

I scoffed, "I'm not miserable."

"Whatever you say, Sash," Justin said condescendingly, "We can just hold hands and cuddle a little. Maybe a kiss...or two."

"Or none," I supplied, "I can barely talk to you. I don't know if I can do all this physical stuff."

"Sash, we can go in together and get this over and done with, or you can call your mom at three in the morning and tell her you're going into labor with a white boy's baby. Whichever you prefer." I didn't like ultimatums and this sounded like one.

"Fine," I mumbled, "We can play pretend with minimum physical contact, but no kissing. It's unnecessary and to be frank, doing anything that physical with a man in front of my mom makes me sick."

"Damn, you were a sheltered child," Justin said, "But okay. That's fine. We can just do a little hand holding. No biggie."

"Exactly," I said, "It's just for what... fifteen minutes, max? I can just tell my mom I have something to do and we can't stay long."

"Precisely," Justin agreed, "We can do this." I nodded, feeling a little more confident than before.

"Yes," I said, feeling myself relax back into my seat, "We can do this."

What the fuck was I thinking?

I can't do this. I cannot do this. I.Can.Not.Do.This.

I took a deep breath. I was gonna create a damn trench in my living room if I didn't stop pacing. I couldn't help it. Why was I doing this to myself? I should've just made that mid-labor call. Mama would've gotten over it. She'd be happy that she had a grandbaby with real good curly hair. The kind I always wanted when I was little. It would've saved me a lot of burns from that hot comb...

All hell, what was I going on about? My mama was gonna kill me. She was gonna kill Justin. She was gonna take my baby out of my belly and slap me with it. She'll go Sash, you're a damn fool for messin' with that white boy! Just because he said he's Justin Timberlake, doesn't mean he is...And if he is Justin Timberlake, why would he give up his life to raise your baby? You look like a damn gold digger...Make sure you get all the child support you can!

See, Justin thought he could handle my mother, but no, no, no, no... Even I couldn't handle my mother and she raised me. You'd think I'd grow immune to all the judgmental behavior, but I think I've just taken it like a whimpy child and never spoke of it again.

And you wonder why I have issues.

Don't get me wrong, I love my mama, but Lord... I can only take her in doses and I have never, ever, ever, ever, ever had to tell my mother something this huge before. I never even told her Angel and I lived together. She would've called me a heathen and said I got what I deserved for bending over backwards for a man...And I couldn't really argue with that. My mother had a way of being real mean, but right all the damn time. It was really annoying.

"Oh, Bob," I moaned out in agony as my feline friend came sashaying into my living room. He meowed and hopped on the couch, curling up on the cushion. "If I don't make it home, I left the cat food by the basement door." He tilted his head at me curiously just as the door bell sounded. I jumped like I wasn't expecting Justin at any minute, but I was still nervous. It had been a week since we came to this great solution and now it was coming into play.

I sighed, trying to get a normal breathing pattern as I opened the door. I almost slammed it shut as soon as I did. Justin would come up to my door in a white button up, dark, torn jeans, and the freshest Jordans I had ever seen. He had cut his hair to a buzz and I had a 'Rock Your Body' flashback as he offered me a nervous smile.

"Hey," he greeted, clearing his throat, "You look really beautiful." I looked down at my attire, jeans and some stupid white top you could barely see beneath my wrap around jacket. I rolled my eyes.

"Shut up," I groaned, unable to take a compliment from somebody who looked gorgeous by default. I did do my make up, but it wasn't that serious. He was just trying to kiss my ass again and it was annoying.

"Well, I can't say the baby looks pretty, seeing that it's inside of you," Justin said bitterly, "Damn, are genuine compliments off limits too?"

"Yes," I said sharply, "Look, I don't have time to be dicking around with you. I'm scared and tired and completely paranoid." He took a step toward me and I turned and walked away from the door so he could let himself all the way in. I stopped in the middle of the living room as he locked my door behind him.

"Sash, it's not that bad, trust me," Justin said soothingly, but I wasn't hearing it. "Your mama is gonna be so happy to be a grandmother."

"She already is a grandmother," I pointed out.

"Not because of you," Justin reminded, "She'll be excited."

"Or severely disappointed," I added, "I wasn't suppose to screw up like this."

"What is this? Lifetime?" Justin joked, "Sash, you're not some drug crazed teenager. You're a responsible, well-educated woman. You're capable of being a mother and I'm capable of being a father. There's no screwing up here. We have this in the bag."

"Yeah, a body bag," I griped, "She's gonna kill us."

"She's not gonna kill anybody," Justin sighed, rolling his eyes, "Why do you doubt yourself when you're in no position to do so? Sash, you're an amazing person and you obviously have a lot of respect, and fear, for your mother. She'll know that this wasn't planned, but she'll also know that she has a daughter with a good head on her shoulders and a good man by her side every step of the way." I snorted.

"You are not allowed to toot your own horn," I told him.

"I most certainly am," he argued playfully, "Especially when I know that I'm gonna be getting that Father of the Year award every year until the end of time." I rolled my eyes, attempting to push down the smile threatening to take over my face.

"You know that you're gonna have to impress my mother enough to make her believe that," I warned.

"So I guess the whole defensive, 'I-don't-trust-anyone' attitude is hereditary?" Justin inquired. I narrowed my eyes at him.

"We also have an ass kicking gene that gets passed down from generation to generation," I informed him as he chuckled.

"Must've skipped you," he teased and I shot him the sharpest glare I could. He was smart enough to take it back."I was just joking, Sash," he said warily.

"Whatever," I sighed, "I'm not in a good mood."

"I can see that..." he mumbled.

"What the hell does that mean?" I snapped. His eyes widened slightly at my defensiveness.

"Sorry, bad joke again," he sighed, "Sash, I know you're pregnant, but I'm walking on eggshells here."

"Why does it have to be my hormones?" I asked angrily, "Why can't you be my problem?"

"I didn't say all that, but-"

"But what?" I asked, daring him to answer. His shoulders slumped as his eyes softened.

"I'm sorry, you're right. I am the problem. I shouldn't have said anything." I looked him up and down as he gave me his pitiful look of regret. I rolled my eyes.

"Lets just get this over and done with," I groaned, "The quicker this is over, the better."

"Speaking of which," Justin said, looking wary again. "About the whole...physical part."

"There is no physical part," I said, "Do even try to touch me."

"But couples don't act like that," Justin argued, "Your mom will know."

"I'll tell her we had a fight," I said nonchalantly.

"That's a horrible idea," Justin said, "If we have this fight, we'll look unstable."

"Couples fight, Justin. She'll understand." I grabbed my wallet from the coffee table.

"This would be a bad way to approach your mother," Justin said stubbornly, "We shouldn't fight."

"You know what? You are so right. We probably shouldn't fight," I agreed sarcastically, "'Cause if we have a fight, that means we'll have to bring Jessica along so you can fuck her while I sleep." I brushed past his figure to get my Nikes by the door. I didn't want to turn around. I had no idea where my outburst came from and I can only imagine the look on Justin's face.

There was a long, awkward silence as I laced up my shoes before Justin took a very deep, shaky breath. "Was that really necessary, Sasheirah?" he asked softly.

"I could ask you the same thing," I said just as lightly. He sighed again as I finished up the last loop and stood tall. "Lets go." I was heading out the door before he could respond. I didn't look at him when he stepped outside after me. I just waited to lock the door as he made his way to his truck, parked shiny and new behind my Lexus. I watched him walk stiffly to the driver's side and slam the door shut once he settled into his seat.

I winced at the loud sound, semi-prepared to drive my own car as Justin turned the key in his ignition. I told myself that I had the right to say whatever I wanted to him, but I had to admit that it was unnecessary to some degree and that if it didn't hurt him to hear, it certainly stung my own heart to say. But I kept a look of indifference on my face as I walked confidently towards his truck. I walked around it, glancing into the windshield to see Justin staring at his lap. I pretended not to see the pained look on his face; the one he was probably trying to wipe away before I settled into the car.

He was successful; at least from what I could see from the corner of my eyes as I slipped into the passanger seat. He powerlocked the doors behind me as I clipped my seatbelt. He pulled off in silence after putting the car in drive. The first five seconds of silence were too unbearable to keep up, so I fidgeted with the radio, settling on a Motown station. The sounds of The Temptations filled the car, their cheerful "My Girl" flowed through the speakers and felt out of place, but it was better than nothing.

I craned my neck as far as I could to look out the window without seeing Justin from the corners of my eyes. However, he was always making his way into my line of vision. I finally just gave up and closed them, taking slow breaths to calm myself. My mother would be in my face in less than twenty minutes and I was truly scared. I was always the one who did things right (even if she never quite said it outloud) and now I was having a baby with a white man who cheated on me and is now pretending to still be with me to save me a bit of grief. My stomach filled with doubt, overflowing with butterflies. This wouldn't work. My mother wouldn't let us off that easy. And I could only hope none of my siblings would be around to instigate the entire situation.

I should've mentioned Justin earlier. I should've done a lot of things.

"Sasheirah," Justin called, shaking me gently as I slowly opened my eyes and moaned in displeasure.

"What?" I asked, annoyed and tired.

"You dosed off," he told me stiffly, turning off his car as I realized he had parked behind the all too familiar Jeep of my mother's. Several 'Proud Parent of an Honor Roll Student' stickers were halfway peeling from her bumper after so many years.

"We're here already?" I said more than asked, my stomach knotting up as I took a deep breath.

"Yeah...Are you okay?" Justin asked, genuinely concerned as he leaned to face me. "You look a little sick. Are you nauseous?"

"I'm fine," I lied, "I just need to calm down and get my thoughts together."

"Well, I think the fighting is a bad idea," Justin said meekly, "I don't want to make this more awkward than necessary and sharing good news with your mother after making her aware that we're fighting doesn't make much sense. We want this to go smoothly. We want to look perfect for each other."

"Sounds impossible," I mumbled childishly.

"Sash, stop disregarding my existance," Justin said firmly. I glared at him.

"I'm disregarding your existance?" I asked, "Do I really need to refresh your memory about why we're in this mess in the first place?"

"I know why we're fucked up, Sash," Justin sighed, "Trust me, I don't let myself forget and you certainly won't let it slip my mind. I know that you're stressed over this and I just want things to be fine so you can relax. I just need your cooperation. I need you to dig deep and remember that you love me...or you once did anyway... and channel that energy. Use it as inspiration to hold my hand and pretend we're still together."

I crossed my arms over my chest. I refused to look at him, scared that I might burst into tears. I need you to dig deep and remember that you love me...or you once did anyway... He had to be kidding me. Dig deep? What for? The love was right there on the stupid ass surface. And 'once did'? How did I not still love this man? I was good at putting up fronts, but he had to at least see that the love was still there.

"Whatever," I said, for what felt like the millionth time since Justin came back into my life. I just don't have much to say after he goes off into one of his little speeches. "You can hold my hand, but nothing else."

"That'll be fine," he said, "But we should be thorough. We can't look awkward."

"Well it's going to be a little awkward," I said, finally facing him. It was momentarily regrettable because he had this way of holding my gaze with a million unsaid words behind his eyes.

"Maybe we should've practiced..." Justin mumbled thoughtfully.

"It's a little too late for that," I said, shaking my head. "This was a horrible idea."

"We haven't even started yet," Justin argued with a small smirk, "We can practice a little. Give me your hand." I looked down at my hand and at him.

"Why?" I asked dumbly. "Justin, we can just wing it."

"Are you sure?" he asked, "I thought your mom was a bloodhound for liars. If she sees you looking weird holding my hand..."

"Okay," I relented, unclipping my seatbelt to turn sideways to face him. He did the same, looking at me with googly eyes. I sucked my teeth, annoyed and shaking as I raised my right hand from my lap and hung it mid-air for him to do his bidding. Justin looked at my hand for a moment as silence engulfed us.

It took took what felt like forever, but his hand raised from his own lap and hovered over mine, close but never touching. I could feel the warmth of his large hand over mine. I licked my lips, remember how strong those hands were, how gentle, how skilled... I almost hand a damn orgasm when he finally rested his hand over mine, flipping it around so it was palm up. Then he laid his hand right over mine, palm to palm.

His free hand appeared and warmed the back of my hand, sandwiching me. His top hand slowly ran down my palm, his fingers tracing along the lines that decorated the pale flesh. He was staring intently at my hand as he did so before turning it around and intertwining our fingers. He slowly tangled our mix-matched hands in a firm grip. His callused hands were delightfully rough on mine. His peachy skin strongly contrasted my brown tone. The sheer length of his fingers and the grith of his palm dominated me.

I was embarrassed by the shudder that shot through my body from our laced hands. I could only wish he didn't feel it, but the smirk that spread across his lips had too much of a perfect timing for my comfort. "Is practice over?" I asked, trying to sound indifferent. Justin nodded, slowly detaching our hands with a bright smile.

"You ready?" I glanced at my mother's Jeep and shook my head.

"Nope," I said honestly, "But lets go."

__________________________________________________________

Sasheirah's mother had a strange resemblance to a munchkin now that I thought about it. Short and stout minus the happiness, of course. There was no welcoming dance or lollipops here. It was obvious that Sash had inherited her height from her mother and even more obvious that their attitude issues were in fact hereditary.

If I wasn't somewhat sure that Sash loved me, I would've been scared she'd throw me in front of the bus, , her mother's vicious claws, just to save herself some ridicule and glares. Her mother's eyes almost melted my face off when Sash had revealed our little secret. Now it was intensely awkward and excruciatingly silent. It was like a movie, I swear.

The big clock on the wall was brown and ticking. It even had the gold ball hanging at the bottom, swinging back and forth in rhythm with the seconds ticking by. Sash's palm was sweaty against my own sweaty palm. If we weren't holding each other's hands so tightly out of nervousness, we probably would've slipped apart with a very awkward squishy sound that would disgust her mother even more with the situation in front of her.

"So...you're...pregnant?" Sash's mother had a way of saying things in slow, broken sentences. This was the third time she has asked Sash to repeat herself.

"Yes," Sash answered obediently. I had never seen her coward like a beaten puppy before. It was strange. Her intimidation and fear for her mother made my stomach do weird flips. I was beginning to get paranoid, as if her mother would leap from the couch and beat us at any given moment.

"And...you're...the...father?" her mother asked, shifting her eyes to me. They looked almost black and demonic. I felt like she was tearing through my soul with every word. My heart was beating quicker than necessary as I swallowed spit and nodded.

"Yes, ma'am," I said, clearing my throat. My southern accent was heavily lacing any word I said. It was a nervous trait of mine. I turned into a country bumpkin the moment I was under a lot of pressure.

Miss. Hanes sighed (yes, Miss. I made the egregious error of saying 'Mrs. Hanes' after the awkward door greeting. I could've sworn the vein in her neck was gonna burst when she clenched her teeth and growled that she was certainly not married). "Well...If you're pregnant...You're pregnant." I furrowed my brows. I didn't know what that meant.

"Well, I am," Sash said softly, "I...I mean, we were going to tell you sooner, but -"

Her mother interrupted, "Sasheirah Mallory Hanes, I'm not stupid and I'll never be, so don't try and give me any excuse about not telling me sooner. Your mother is the second person you tell 'cause God's always the first to know. For the love of all things good and holy, your phone still works last I checked. I would've gotten the voicemail if I didn't answer."

"Sorry, Mama," Sasheirah mumbled.

"Your middle name is Mallory?" I asked, gleeful that I found out something about her. Sash and her mother shot me a dirty look. "Sorry..." I trailed of, blushing a bit as her mother rolled her eyes at me.

Miss. Hanes sighed deeply. "I swear, I don't know where I went wrong with you girls. Y'all act like y'all can't tell your own mama something. I'm the one who feed and clothed you."

"I know, but I didn't know for almost two months," Sasheirah argued lightly - very lightly. "I thought I was just getting fat." I snapped my head in her direction, a look of disapproval etched into my features.

"You're not fat," I cooed comfortingly. She rolled her eyes, not bothering to look at me.

"Yes she is," her mother argued, making me snap my head in her direction to give her my disbelieving look. She was too busy giving Sash the up and down stare to see me. "But that's a good thing. The baby has to have a healthy mother in order to be healthy too." I bit my lip, wanting to defend Sash, but she warned me earlier that arguing with her mother was neverending and bothersome to both parties of the argument.

"Well, Sash is plently healthy," I assured, not certain if I should even be speaking at all, but I had to say some to help Sash's self-esteem. Her mother's backhanded fat compliment was a knock to her soul, even if she didn't admit it. "She takes good care of herself." Miss. Hanes looked at me with an annoyed raised brow.

"She's a nurse, so I'm assuming she does," her mother grumbled off, turning back to Sash. "Anyway, when are you having a baby shower?" Sash's expression was surprised.

"I don't know," she said, "I didn't plan anything."

"What about you?" Miss. Hanes asked, turning to me again. I shrugged.

"I didn't plan it out either," I said honestly. Her mother's eyes hardened a bit.

"Like you didn't plan on impregnanting my daughter, huh?" she questioned. I opened my mouth to talk, but nothing came out. "That's what I thought." Sash gave my hand a tiny squeeze and I faced her with a frustrated expression. She shook her head quickly, signaling me to just drop it.

"Well, we can always plan the shower later," I tried, "We just have bigger issues right now, like building up the nursery."

"And where exactly are we building that?" her mother asked and I shrugged, confused.

"Well...Sash's, of course," I said simply. Sash looked as confused as me when I glanced over at her. She was looking at her mother, waiting for a response.

"So...you're living...together?" her mother asked, slowly yet again. I looked at Sash who was looking at her mother. I couldn't decipher that look, but for some reason my answer was stuck in my throat. I wasn't sure what answer would be the best one. Should I be living with Sash? Would that make us look better or will Sash get in more trouble for living with me because her mother will further blame her unplanned pregnancy on us moving too fast (at least from her perspective)?

"I...umm...no," I stammered, "I mean, I have an apartment downtown, and I come by enough -"

"Obviously," her mother mumbled bitterly, glancing at Sash's barely-there-belly.

"I mean that I'm not far and we see each other often," I tried again, to no avail. Her mother still looked as bitter and annoyed. "Sash and I are comfortable with things as they are."

"Meaning you have no intention of building a family with my daughter?" Miss. Hanes inquired and my heart had a sharp and searing pain.

"Well..." I trailed off, glancing at Sash who was rolling her eyes and shaking her head to the Heavens. Everything in me wanted to build a family with her and have a future together, but Miss. Hanes junior had no intentions of building one with me. Not after what I did. I bit my bottom lip and glanced down at the floor, willing myself not to get upset.

"I guess your silence answers that question," Sash's mother sighed, "Baby, I don't know why you're wasting your time with this boy because he is not gonna be bothered with you much longer."

"Mama!" Sash groaned, "Please stop it. I didn't come here to be critized, I came here to tell you what I thought was good news."

"Obviously not that good if you couldn't call me when you should've," her mother argued, "And did you not hear that silence? This boy has no plans for you in his future. You need to make sure you secure yourself and not depend on him."

"This boy is sitting right here," I interrupted, making her mother's dark brown eyes to harden against mine as I picked up my vision from her living room rug. I was really starting to dislike the woman in front of me.

"I don't care where you're sitting," her mother growled, "I'll tell the truth in front of whoever will listen."

"With all due respect Miss. Hanes, my relationship with Sash is really none of your concern," I stated firmly and Sash yanked my arm to silence me.

"Justin-" she started, but I cut her off.

"No, she needs to understand something," I said to Sash over my shoulder before turning back to her mother, "I love your daughter. I do. I know you don't believe me and, to be frank, I don't care. I don't care if you don't like me or the fact that Sash is pregnant, but I'm here and that's my child she's carrying and despite what you think, I'm not going anywhere because I love them both more than myself. More than you can even fathom. I know you're her mother and you only have the best interests for Sasheirah, but you honestly don't have to worry about anything. Even if Sash and I weren't together, I would still be right here, holding her hand and supporting her. Even if I wasn't around, you've raised a brave, self-sufficient woman who can take care of anything life throws at her. There's no need to cut her down and warn her and scare her, especially right now. We both just want your blessing and maybe some parenting advice as things progress, but no stress please. There's more than enough of that already." I turned to Sash who had linked her arm through mine and gave her hand a little squeeze. I leant over and took advantage of the moment, placing a small kiss to her temple before turning back to her mother.

Miss. Hanes sat back in the chair she was in and crossed, uncrossed, and crossed her legs before a tiny 'hmph' escaped her throat. "Whatever, Justin, if that's you're real name... I don't need you to tell me the type of daughter I have. I'm well aware of Sash's character. I know she can do whatever it is that she needs to do, but she shouldn't have to bear the weight of parenting on her own -"

"And she won't have to," I inserted, "I'm right here."

"For now," her mother said with certainty. I rolled my eyes, a habit I surely picked up from Sash.

"I actually plan on sticking around until....I don't know...death, maybe? Even then I'll probably float somewhere on cloud and watch over my family." Miss. Hanes raised a brow at me. "Hopefully somewhere before I kick the bucket, I'll get on your good side and you'll see that I'm a man of my word."

"I seriously doubt that," her mother grumbled, and I waivered a little with guilt. I guess I did break my word when it came to never cheating, but it was a momentary, highly-emotional mistake that makes me physically ill to think about. I certainly learned my lesson and I knew in my hearts of hearts, right down to my core that I would never abandon my family. That promise would never be broken under any circumstances.

"Mama, I can't stay much longer," Sash broke in softly, "I just wanted to see you and let you know. We'll be on our way now."

"Well, before you go, can I see?" her mother asked, trying to seem indifferent about whatever it was she was asking.

"See what?" Sash asked, as confused as I was. Her mother gestured toward her stomach.

"The baby, of course," she said, sucking her teeth, "I want to see your bump." Sasheirah paused before hesitantly standing. Our linked arms and entwined hands fell apart as she walked the two foot space between her mother and our spot on the sofa. I watched her from behind as she stopped in front of her mother's chair. Her hands hesitantly reached for the hem of her top, slowly pulling it upward as her mother's stone face nearly broke out into a smile she quickly hid.

"Well...you're a little high up," her mother said, examining her belly as I subconsciously leaned to the side and forward, trying to catch a peek. "I think you're gonna have a girl."

"Really?" her said, wrinkling her nose. I smirked. "I want a boy."

"Well, they aren't Cabbage Patch Kids," her mother said distastefully, "You can't pick and choose."

"I know," Sash whined, "I just think boys are easier."

"No child is easier, boy or girl," her mother stated wisely, "They're just different. A boy seems easier 'cause you don't have to worry about make up and periods, but you gotta shape him into a man. A provider and protector. He has to find his place in the world 'cause he won't get much sympathy. A woman will get a little more slack, sexist as it may be, but a man will get it the hardest. He has to be the strongest and most competitive and know how to fight - he can't be weak in the eyes of the world. A girl will have to learn how to respect her body and not get her heart broken and learn to not let the world tell her she needs to stay pretty and pregnant. She has to learn to work hard and be independent and not rely on a man... You're shaping a human being who will touch the lives of people or even change the world. It's not easy to do and it'll only get harder...Especially when your baby starts having babies of their own..." She trailed off, giving Sash's stomach a tiny kiss before covering it up with her shirt again.

For the first time since I stepped into the house, I saw Sash's mother. I saw her wisdom. I saw the way she loved Sash. I guess I couldn't blame her for being so hard on me and hard on Sash... She didn't want Sash to have to do this alone. Miss. Hanes has been hurt before, it was evident in her stance and in her eyes when she saw the way Sash and I held hands. There was suspicion, but there was a sort of envy or nostalgia.

Sasheirah stared down at her mother she stood up and they were eye to eye. "Mama, you always scare me."

"I'm just being honest," her mother said, kissing her cheek gently before embracing her. I looked away, feeling like I was in a private moment between daughter and mother. I felt out of place. "Next time you want to tell me something, tell me it, please. I'm surprised you didn't call me the night you went into labor." Sasheirah laughed.

"I was planning to," she confessed, making her mother and I chuckle. "I'm glad I didn't, Mama. I'm sorry I didn't call sooner."

"It's okay," her mother assured, "Don't let it happen again." Sash nodded and they hugged again, swaying back and forth in a slow rhythm before finally breaking apart. Her mother's eyes shifted over Sash's shoulder, meeting my gaze as Sash moved to stand by the sofa I was sitting on. I stood to be at her side. We took each other's hands again, facing her mother as one.

"It was nice meeting you, Ma'am," I spoke up first, "Hopefully you'll be more trusting of me as time goes on."

"My daughter loves you," Miss. Hanes announced and I couldn't help the jerk of my chest as Sash's hand flexed involuntarily in mine, "I can see that she does, but I can see she's scared too, which means she's worried about you and the baby. I don't know what that means, young man, but I really hope it's not a question of your character as a father or a boyfriend."

I blinked and cleared my throat. "I'm not perfect," I said, "But I know where I stand concerning your daughter and our child. Like I said, I'm here to stay with both Sash and the baby."

"Well, I really hope so," Miss. Hanes said, her words laced with an unspoken threat, "If Sash sees something in you, I guess you are somewhat worthy of my consideration, but I'm very protective of my children, Justin. I don't like to see them hurting and I don't take to kindly to men who hurt them."

"Well, it's a good thing we don't have to worry about that," I told her, straightfaced. She looked me up and down.

"Then I guess it was good meeting you," she told me.

"The feeling's mutual," I said back, reaching out for a handshake. She gave me a very loose and brief shake before turning back to Sash.

"You better call me if you need anything and we have to get started on this shower. I need you to give Clare my number as well."

"Yes, Mama," Sash nodded. "I'll talk to you later then."

"Yeah, yeah," her mother said playfully before we both turned toward her front door. Her mother trailed behind. Sash's palm was still soft and warm against mine, but no longer clammy. It felt good to know she was much more at ease.

We waved with our free hands as we finally exited the house, her mother waving back as she locked the door behind us. I walked Sash to the passanger door, holding it open for her. It wasn't until she was settling into her seat that our hands broke apart. It was a weird feeling swimming through my gut as I shut the door behind her and walked to the driver's side.

Pretending was now over and my hand had never felt so hollow. I tried to push the thought from my mind, but it was only more obvious when I settled into my seat and started up my truck. Sash was almost pressed against the door, angled off as far away from me as possible. I think she even flinched when I reached my hand over to turn on the radio.

"Are you okay?" I asked, keeping the volume low to hear her. She shrugged from her corner, not looking at me as she stared out her window.

"I'm fine," she lied and I didn't need to see her eyes to know it. I looked at her a moment longer before she slowly turned to face me.

"Your mom's intense," I said, trying to smile. Sash offered me a weak smirk.

"I told you," she reminded, "I warned you about how judgmental she can be."

"She was sweet at the end though," I pointed out, "Nice baby bump, by the way." Sash glanced away at her hands.

"Yeah... It's crazy how fast it's growing," she mumbled, "I can't imagine what I'll look like in another month or two."

"Like a beach ball?" I suggested and she reached over and punched me in the arm. I hissed in pain, rubbing the sore spot as she pouted.

"Well, I'm sorry I didn't get the easy part of this pregnancy, unlike some people," Sash whimpered, "Are you gonna call me beach ball when I can no longer see my feet?"

"No, I'll call you Jupiter," I chuckled, "It's the biggest planet in our solar system." I couldn't help the laugh that fell from my throat when she gasped and punched my arm again and again, weakened by her own laughter.

"You asshole!" Sash smiled, giggling again. I took her punches, now that they didn't hurt, and even enjoyed them. I couldn't remember the last time she had laughed like this with me and I couldn't remember the last time I laughed like this with anybody, especially with her. It felt like everything was good.

"Okay, okay!" I surrendered, still laughing as I turned to grab her flying fists. I locked my hands around each of her wrists and she laughed lightly as I caught her eyes. My laughter had passed the moment the pulse in her wrists glided against my finger tips. I couldn't help myself as she finally calmed and saw my expression.

"Justin..." Sash breathed, my eyes glancing down her throat to watch it tremble with her voice. My eyes then rested where my hands wrapped around her wrists. I slowly lifted one wrist to my mouth, kissing along the lightly visible blue of her veins. She took a shaky breath as my nose skimmed along her arm, taking in the smell of her soft skin. A sweet and floral perfume that I could distinguish in any array of feminine scents. It was purely Sash and I missed it so much.

"Stop," Sash stated firmly, becoming stiff beneath my hold. I closed my eyes, hesitant to let go. "Justin...please." Her voice sounded so pained as she pleaded for her release. Damn, I remembered when she was only pained because she wanted me closer. Now she couldn't wait to have me off of her. My heart was breaking all over again. I didn't want this. I didn't want to let her go, but I kissed the crook of her elbow before pulling away.

"I'm sorry," I mumbled, and I was, but not for this moment. I was sorry for all the wrong I had done. My eyes fought to catch hers, but she was too busy sitting back in her seat and clipping on her seatbelt. "Sash -"

"Just take me home," she said softly, looking out of the window once she settled. I shook my head at myself, mentally kicking my ass. Stupid, stupid, stupid!

"Okay," I mumbled, sitting back in my seat as well. I clipped on my seatbelt and put the car in drive, turning out of the parking spot without much focus on the road. My stomach was twisting into itself from the feeling of rejection, regret, and remorse. Now I just wanted to get her home so I could crawl into my hole and disappear.

"Justin," I mumbled quickly beneath my breath, taking a subconscious step toward his form to shield myself. As if I was the one who needed to be hiding.

"What?" Justin responds distractedly. He was too busy comparing paint swatches to acknowledge my existence and I rolled my eyes.

"We really could've done this online," I complained, looking up in time to see a mother tapping the shoulder of her older daughter before they both turned back to stare at Justin and I. My eyes shifted quickly to the polished white linoleum floors. "People are staring at you." I whispered, bringing my eyes up to Justin's face. He was still too busy making faces at paint colors.

"Sash, relax," he said nonchalantly, examining a swatch of lilac purples in the fluorescent lighting. "People have eyes and, shockingly enough, they use them from time to time."

"Don't be a smartass," I griped, "They are staring at you." I could feel my skin prickling with their nosy eyeballs on us. They were wondering what we were doing together in the middle of Lowes on a Saturday afternoon looking at paint swatches.

"I'm starting to think you're embarrassed of me," Justin joked, pouting at me over his shoulder before laughing at my glare.

"I feel like I'm part of some freak show," I complained, "Like a bearded lady in a cage..."

"I thought they were staring at me," Justin said, taking a very brief glance at a girl with her camera phone jutted towards him before going back to the paint display.

"They are but then they're thinking...'Why is he with her? Who is she?’" I explained, wrinkling my nose at my internal criticism of myself. I felt like I should've done my make up or something.

"Or maybe they just want to be you," Justin said shrugging, "They might be thinking 'Damn, she's beautiful. No wonder he's with her'." I shifted uncomfortably.

"I highly doubt that's what they're thinking," I impugned, shifting again when camera phone girl turned her device towards me. I turned myself to the side and scoffed. "I really feel like you right now. When did I become stalker camera phone worthy?"

"Well, I, for one, feel fine. I don't think I'm gonna burst into flames if a couple of people stare at me and neither will you," he smartly retorted before turning to face me, swatch in hand. "What about these purples? I like the Lavender Surprise shade." I glanced at the swatch and back at him.

"A boy shouldn't have a purple room," I stressed, crossing my arms over my chest when he smirked down at me.

"Well, it's a good thing we're not having a boy," he stated mockingly. I rolled my eyes.

"How would you know?" I asked as he turned back to the Behr Paint display in front of him. His fingers skimmed over a light pink swatch before he laid the purple shade against it to compare.

"I want a girl and your mom said it was a girl..." he tried to argue.

"My mom said a lot of things," I reminded, shivering at the memory. I was still slightly embarrassed by the whole ordeal, but grateful she had mentioned a baby shower. Clare and her were working double time planning it and I had the great pleasure of not being involved. That, unfortunately, left me with a great deal of free time to spend shopping with Justin for baby crap.

Oh joy.

"She did, but she had girls and boys, so she can tell the difference," Justin smirked, deciding he didn't like the pink shade after all as he tucked it back into its slot on the display. "Which means she has to be right about that bean in your oven."

"That expression makes no sense," I mumbled, catching another pair of fleeting eyes from our audience. "Can we go? My feet are starting to hurt." Justin glanced down at my Chucks and back at me.

"Are they swelling up already? I thought that happened later." I self-consciously looked at my feet.

"You think they're swollen?" I asked. He shrugged.

"They look fine to me, but I was just wondering how you felt," he explained, "I can give you a foot message when we get home."

"You mean you want to place your hands on my body?" I asked and he sighed deeply.

"Right... no physical contact," he said dryly as I nodded.

"Right," I agreed, "And by the way, it's not when we get home, it's when you drop me off at my house."

"Whatever, Sash," Justin sighed, "Lets just get some paint rollers and call it a day." He strolled off towards the paint supplies as I followed suit.

"Don't give me attitude because you can't understand the concept of being broken up," I grumbled, hoping he didn't hear me, but his body language stiffened with unexpressed emotion as soon as the sentence left my mouth.

"Trust me, I understand," Justin mocked, "I was just trying to offer you something nice and as usual -"

"What do you mean 'as usual'?" I asked as he stopped at the paint brush shelf, "Don't you mean that as of late? Post-break up? Post-cheating? Post -"

"It wasn't post anything," Justin said calmly, "You're impossible, you always have been. Even before we broke up or whatever, you didn't want me to do anything. I think you'd like me more if I treated you badly."

"And you don't?" I shot back, "For somebody who remembers why we're like this, you sure do sound forgetful." He sighed, angrily gathering several paintbrushes.

"Sash, I swear, I cannot win," he grumbled, "Especially now. It's like no matter how we fight or bicker or even if we're having a real good time, you'll bring that shit up over and over again. I know I fucked up, but I'm really trying, but I sometimes feel like it's not -" He cut himself short, pausing his movements to shake his head sadly. "Never mind."

I paused, not really sure if I wanted him to finish that sentence. "No, say it." I voiced out quietly. He just shook his head.

"Lets just go," he sighed, "We still have to go to the market after this."

"Don't avoid the question," I said, following him as he quickly strode away.

"That wasn't a question, it was a command," he said smartly again, checking the lines for the shortest one. Or at least he was pretending to be checking the lines.

"Oh, fuck you," I childishly spat out, "I don't know why I agreed to this stupid shopping trip."

"Do you want to go home?" Justin asked, guiding us to a self-check out counter. I scoffed at his indifference.

"You know what, Justin? That's a great idea," I seethed, "Take me the hell home." I huffed and defiantly left the Lowes Hardware store. The automatic doors slid open and closed promptly behind as I continued towards the parking lot of the mini mall. I could see Justin's truck five spaces from the door; the back was full of bags and bags of baby stuff - sheets for the crib (which was in the giant box hanging from the truck bed), an oversized teddy bear, monitors, mobiles, a changing table, diaper genie, and other knick-knacks. I actually had to pull Justin from the baby section. I was excited for the crib and the giant teddy bear was cute and completely unnecessary, but Justin had insisted in a very irresistible 'I'm-too-excited-to-be-a-father' kinda way.... Completely endearing.

I sighed and shook my head as I made my way around to the passenger side door. The worst thing about stomping out to a car was not having a key, so I leant against the shiny door and rolled my eyes impatiently. I was waiting for a minute at the most, but hearing the jingle of Justin's keys as he finally approached the truck made me want to curse him out for taking so long. I turned when the doors unlocked and pulled the passenger door open to settle into the seat. I clicked my seat belt on as Justin got into the car as well. We slammed our doors shut simultaneously and both grunted in disapproval of the synchronization of the simple movement.

Then we were heading out of the parking lot at an uncomfortably slow speed as Justin weaved through parked cars to cut off the main line of traffic. He cursed beneath his breath and glared at a driver who wouldn't let him get through.

"Asshole," he grumbled, grunting as he sped up and cut that same driver off, smiling gleefully at his accomplishment. I rolled my eyes at his immature road rage and sighed from my seat, staring longingly out of my window as we drove along the four lane Aramingo Avenue. I didn't know what I was longing for, but whatever it was left me feeling a certain hollowness. Maybe I was hungry? I touched my belly, trying to remember when was the last time I fed the little guy. I guess I should get on that.

"Can we get something to eat?" I asked reluctantly, not bothering to face him. Justin sighed as if it were the biggest deal in the world to get some Wendy's.

"Fine," he said, "What do you want to eat?"

"Anything with a drive thru," I said simply.

"Wendy's?" he suggested, reading my mind, but also seeing it from across the street. I shrugged as he hit his left signal and turned wildly past two lanes of oncoming traffic. I almost had a heart attack, but Justin didn't seem the least bit phased.

"You really couldn't wait for the light?" I scolded.

"Lady, don't tell me how to drive please," he huffed.

"Well, somebody needs to tell you because you apparently have no idea what you're doing," I complained, "We almost died."

"You're so dramatic," Justin bit back, "The light had just changed for them."

"Then why were they two inches from my window?" He rolled his eyes.

"Oh my god..."

"Don't 'oh my god' me! I'm serious," I ranted, "I'm carrying our child, Justin. Even if you're mad at me, don't kill the baby in the process." He actually laughed out loud.

"You're so... wow," he said at a loss for words.

"What does that mean?" I asked, annoyed and now extremely hungry. He just shook his head, still smirking.

"What do you want to eat?" Justin asked, ignoring my question as he pulled into the drive thru of Wendy's. We idled in front of the ordering menu and I glanced over my options.

"A number eight with a -"

"Sprite, I know," Justin said, scanning the menu for his self as I huffed and sat back into my seat.

"What if I wanted a Coke?" I mumbled beneath my breath.

"Do you want a Coke?" Justin asked, raising a knowing brow as I glared at him.

"Yes," I hissed out as he laughed and shook his head.

"You're not gonna drink it, but I'll get it," he smiled. I rolled my eyes, ignoring the knot in my stomach that told me he was right.

"Welcome to Wendy's. My name is Cheryl; what would you like to order today?"

"Hello, Cheryl, can I please get a number eight with a -" he paused to chuckle, "With a Coke. And can I also get a number five with an ice cold -" he turned to grin at me, "Sprite, yeah... that's what I really want - a Sprite." I rolled my eyes again at his immaturity. My patience was depleting.

"Okay..." Cheryl said warily, "So that's a number eight with a Coke and a number five with an ice cold Sprite. Is that correct?"

"Yes it is," Justin answered back, "Thank you, sweetheart." I felt my gut twitch as the word 'sweetheart' slipped so easily from his lips. I missed being called all those pet names and even though I was the one to reinforce the 'no affection' policy, I wouldn't be too opposed to the occasional 'sweetheart'.

"You're welcome, sir," Cheryl giggled a bit before clearing her throat to compose herself, "Twelve dollars and sixty-eight cents is your total. You can pay at the next window." Justin thanked her again and pulled up to the next window. I was a little annoyed at Miss. Cheryl's giddiness. Justin had charmed her through the ordering mic. That was just ridiculous.

Justin was beaming though as we pulled up to the window and paid the brunette Miss. Cheryl, who had to be sixteen or seventeen. Her eyes nearly popped out of her head when she said Mr. Timberlake ordering from her window. She had asked permission to take his picture with her camera phone and he happily obliged, posing with crossed eyes and a stuck out tongue. It was all adorable in its own right, but cars behind us beeped impatiently and I couldn't say I wasn't grateful for the distraction. Justin paid her with a huge smile, asking her how her day was and jokingly saying she should sneak him a burger. She giggled as he shamelessly flirted until we finally got our food and it was time to go.

We drove a few blocks away as I picked at my french fries. Or were they Justin's? I couldn't tell and neither could my stomach, so I continued to munch along.

"Save some for me," Justin said jokingly, reaching over blindly into my lap to grab some fries from the greasy bag I was eating out of. I rolled my eyes when he pulled out half of its contents and stuffed it into his mouth as he continued to drive. He sung obnoxious with John Mayer's album blaring from his speakers and I cringed at the squeaks and squawks.

"Someday I'll flyyyyyy! Someday I'll sooooooooarrr! Some day I'll beeee somethiiing much mooooore! 'Cause I'm bigger than my boooody now! Yeah, I'm bigger than my boooood..." Did I mention he still had fries in his damn mouth? Ladies and gentlemen - I give you the man of my dreams...

"Justin, honestly," I grumbled distastefully, eating another two fries from our bag, "You're suppose to be good at that."

"Good at what?" Justin asked, turning down the radio a bit as he pulled up to a red light.

"Singing," I answered, reaching for my Coke in the cup holder. I subconsciously wrinkled my nose at the thought of drinking it and Justin snorted a laugh, picking up his precious Sprite.

"Cheers," he said, jokingly tapping our cups as I rolled my eyes and grabbed a straw. He watched as he did the same, his grin never flattering as I slowly slipped the straw through the hole in the lid.

"Watch the road, please," I growled just as the car behind him honked. Justin tastefully flipped him off through the reflection of his rearview before I snuck a sip of my drink while he was distracted. The Coke was cold, but as horrible as I imagined it would be. I almost threw up, so I guess the baby wasn't feeling Coke either. I sighed and dejectedly placed the damned fountain drink back into its cup holder.

Justin took another sip of his Sprite and drummed his fingers against the steering as I continued to munch of my fries. I was ignoring the side-glances he kept giving me. I pretended to be too engrossed in my fries and the view of the road ahead of me to notice him, but as we pulled up to another red light, Justin sighed softly.

"Here," he said, giving my arm a nudge. I glanced down at his offering - his fountain cup of Sprite - and then looked back at him.

"I don't want your drink," I said, pushing his hand away. He sucked his teeth and jerked the cup at me.

"Take the cup," he demanded firmly. I turned my nose in the air and refused to look at him. I had a little bit of dignity and I wasn't going to give it up for a sip of soda.

"Justin, get that thing out of my face," I said threateningly.

"Take the Sprite and I'll get the Coke," Justin pressed on. He reached for my nasty Coke and I slapped his hand away.

"I want the Coke," I lied, making him roll his eyes.

"Sash, stop, you're killing me," he dramatized, sticking his free hand out the window to signal the person behind us to go around when the light changed. I stubbornly held my ground.

"You're wasting your time," I told him.

"Obviously," he said annoyed, "Take the cup."

"No," I snapped, "Just drive, damn it."

"Not until you take this cup," he said confidently. He actually leant back in his seat, putting on his hazard lights to warn the confused traffic behind us.

"You are being ridiculous," I criticized.

"The pot and the kettle, my dear," he shot back, raising a brow and wiggling the cup at me, "Take the cup."

"I don't want it," I held on, checking the side mirror for cops. I'm sure one would come up eventually and ask why we were idling in the middle of the road.

"Okay, fine," Justin said dejectedly before instantly perking up. "But...I want the baby to have it." I rolled my eyes.

"Oh please," I grumbled.

"I'm serious," Justin said smoothly, "My baby loves Sprite and, as the father, I am obligated to provide for my child. So if the baby tells me she wants a Sprite, what kind of father would I be if I didn't grant such a small request?" I shook my head at his lame ass.

"So now the he talks to you?" I asked and corrected suspiciously, "You are so full of shit." Justin cracked a bit of a smile. That lopsided halfway smile that tells me I'm right about him being full of shit, but he wasn't quite ready to voice it out loud.

"Look, think what you want, but I cannot deny my child a drink. And unfortunately, I can't give her the Sprite unless it goes through you, so you have to drink it." I marveled at his unyielding stubbornness as he comically checked his nails as he waited. I huffed and grabbed the Sprite from him; my belly (or rather the baby) was calling for the bubbly lemon-lime deliciousness. I took a sip; ignoring the knot in my gut from knowing he sipped from the same straw. It tasted even better than I remembered a Sprite ever tasting.

"The baby says thank you," I mumbled, staring at the cup in my hands when I finished my sip. I stiffened a bit when Justin shifted, his hand reaching for my cup of Coke in the holder.

"You're welcome, baby," he said gently before taking a sip of my drink. I knew he wasn't referring to Justin Junior, but I ignored it. It was easier to not feel much when I pretended it didn't happen.

"Honestly, we have to get from the middle of the street. You're gonna get some type of ticket for idling like this for no reason." I was trying to break the awkward silence with my lightheartedness. Justin was burning a hole into the side of my face with all his staring and Coke sipping.

"I had a reason," Justin said simply, but turned off his signal and hit the gas. We drove for another ten minutes, shifting the radio to a gospel station. Justin was singing along to just about every song and I wondered if there was anything music related he didn't know about. Then I started to realize that I knew nothing about his musical life in general. I didn't know what he liked to listen to, what he played instrumentally, and it made me curious to know, but weird for not knowing. Music was such a huge part of Justin's life and I was a stranger to it.

It made me feel even stupider for ever being with him in the first place. For falling in love and getting pregnant like some lovesick teenager on a terrible after school special. I glanced over at Justin who was solemnly staring out the windshield as he drove, mumbling the words to some Kirk Franklin song as his truck moved along. His buzz cut was growing in quickly. Justin had decided that the buzz was a momentary thing, I suppose. Or maybe he didn't think I liked it because he had asked my opinion on his new look and I mumbled 'it's whatever' before continuing what I was doing. I was just trying to be bitchy though. What was I suppose to say? 'Keep it, Justin! You look so damn sexy with that haircut. I just want to run my hands over your head and feel the bristled edges!'.

Nope, that wasn't going to happen. Not now and most certainly not ever. I missed his curls anyway. They were so easy to grip when... Shit, my mind should not be there. It couldn't be. Fighting my love for his dumbass was hard enough, but to not take note of every inch of muscular arms, soft lips, large, strong hands... That was even harder. Sex wasn't everything, but I knew that thinking about Justin sexually was a lot easier than thinking about what we could've had in the future. Sex was a momentary thing and it was so damn good with him. He might've failed me as a boyfriend, but a lover...I have nothing to compare to him. Hence the reason why I had to reinforce the no physical contact rule. His touch would have me all over the place and I couldn't deal with that. It didn't help that I caught him checking me out from time to time, despite the fact that I blowing like a damn balloon; he managed to find me attractive. It only made me love him more.

I jumped when Justin turned to glance at me, only to find me gawking at the side of his face. I quickly averted my vision to the windshield, staring blankly at the road in front of me. He didn't say anything, but I now realized we weren't at my house. We were turning into the Shop Rite Supermarket parking lot.

"I thought I was going home," I voiced, still too scared to look at him.

"Your fridge was practically empty," Justin said, making me feel embarrassed by how much I ate in less than a week.

"Well... I didn't buy a lot the last time I went," I mumbled, trying to make myself feel better. Justin's hand reached to lay on my knee in a comforting gestured, but he only hovered above my lap for a moment before thinking better of it. He rested his hand back on the steering wheel.

"I wasn't trying to say anything bad," he assured me gently, "I want you to eat, Sash. You're eating for two, ya know? I'm just making sure you don't have to go running around for groceries. We can just get it out of the way now." I took that as it was as we finally found a spot and parked. Justin cut the ignition and we both got out of the car. He grabbed a stray cart and we walked silently into the market. The buzz of civilians seemed to hush when we did. Two employees tapped one another and pointed from the produce section. There were some glances and shoulder tapping, but we continued towards the deli.

Justin ordered a pound of turkey for me and ham for himself before we wandered off to seafood. We go some shrimp and fish by the pound before I swung by the produce and picked up some greens.

"Hey, can you make that spinach thing you made the last time," Justin gushed giddily, "You took some to work that one time for Clare." I smirked a bit at the distant memory.

"You remember that?" I asked, amazed. I had thrown that together with some pork tenderloin. It was one of those dishes you make with whatever you had leftover and it for some reason goes right.

"I remember everything you cook," he smiled shyly before perking up, "Speaking of which, you need to make some of those white chocolate brownies again." I rolled my eyes, but smiled at the thought. They were good. Justin had eaten half the batter before I even put it in the pan to bake. Those were the good old' Matthew days and my smile flattered a bit at the longing I had for those quiet moments.

"Well, as long as you remember to grab the chocolate, I don't see why not," I said gently, "I've been meaning to give Clare a batch. I'll save you one."

"One?" Justin whined jokingly, "It was my idea."

"It's not my job to make you brownies," I said, "I shouldn't be treating you to anything." Justin rolled his eyes and guided the cart to the fruits. I could see the sudden shift in his mood as he felt up the avocadoes for tenderness. I paused as I inched towards him, not sure if I should even comfort him. I rolled my eyes when I finally came along side and nudged him with my elbow.

"I was joking around," I explained, "I wasn't trying to make you feel some type of way."

"You always make me feel some type of way," Justin said quietly, grabbing sack of oranges and tossing it into the cart. He started carting away and I rolled my eyes at him for being such a child.

"I don't mean to," I said, not sure if I was suppose to apologize.

"It doesn't matter if you mean to or not," he said softly, obviously aware that we had a partial audience of shoppers around us now. Too many people seemed to be interested in produce at the moment.

"What does that mean?" I asked, trying to keep my voice leveled. Justin strolled up to me, leaning down to my level. I held my breath as his nose almost touched mine.

"We'll talk later, I promise," he said softly, so softly that I almost didn't catch it over the crappy supermarket music, "'Cause now I feel like a freak show." He gave my nose a tiny peck before pulling away completely. I stood there for a moment, trying to forget the soft warmth of his lips on my nose and trying to catch my breath. Neither was being forgotten, but my legs moved mechanically to follow him out of the produce section. Eyes and some bodies moved with us, but I was less aware of them and more aware of Justin.

He was rambling about something concerning recent research on the health benefits of whole wheat bread as he grabbed a loaf and placed it at the top of the cart. I didn't really care because the pressure of his lips still had my nose tingling and my stomach swarming. I didn't want to feel like this anymore, but it was sickeningly euphoric. I let myself feel it as I moved up to his side and grabbed a pack of English muffins to place in the cart.

"You eat those now?" he asked, smiling down at me gently. I shrugged, smiling myself as I remember shopping with Matthew and slapping his had whenever he reached for an English muffin. I told him it was bread or nothing because English muffins were disgusting.

"They have fewer calories," I said, "Besides, I tried them with some butter and they're good. Great with jelly too."

"So now they're good, huh?" he asked, pretending to be bitter. We laughed at our own lame joke and continued shopping. He convinced me to let him to come to dinner by suggesting I make some turkey meat loaf and he'll whip up his "World famous" smooth, mashed potatoes. I was reluctant at first, but the company would be nice. I think I'm smothering my poor cat with all my free time. He slept as far away from me as he could the other night just so I wouldn't reach out and hold him.

"Oh, wait," I said, suddenly remembering, "I forgot the rice." I pouted because we were halfway unpacked at the register. Justin glanced by at the aisle signs for direction.

"It's right there," he said, pointing six aisle down, "I'll be right back." He was off before I could argue. I turned to the guy waiting behind me with just a basket of things.

"You can go ahead," I offered, smiling softly at him. He smiled back, revealing his beautiful white teeth. They clashed against his brown skin as he scooted past my cart.

"Thank you very much," he said and his deep voice surprised me. It surprised me even more that he was looking back and smiling in my direction once he got around me. I looked away, getting shy and nervous as he unpacked.

"You're welcome," I mumbled.

"I'm Damon," he said, extending his hand as his items got rung up. I gave him my hand and he took an unnecessary amount of time shaking it. His palm was calloused and warm. I could feel the strength he had in them as I gently slid my hand from his.

"Sasheirah," I offered, feeling in an odd place. Justin could come around the corner at any minute.

"That's a beautiful name," he said to me, "I know that's cliché, but I don't know any other lines."

"Then don't give me lines," I said back, making him chuckle deeply.

"I'm sorry, but I get nervous and say the wrong thing," he said, looking at me with a cute boyish grin.

"Nervous?" I asked, disbelieving, "I bet you do this all the time." He chuckled again.

"No, not all the time," he disputed, "Not in a while actually. I don't find too many women who make me like I just have to talk to them or I'll be missing out on something wonderful."

"I make you feel all that?" I continued to flirt.

"Most definitely," he told me earnestly before the cashier gave him his total. He paid with a debit card before turning back to me. "But I have to ask; was that your boyfriend? I don't want to cause any -"

"Oh no," I interrupted, "He's just.... He’s..." I couldn't find the proper word, "He's...a friend. We're not like that."

"But you were, huh?" he asked as I glanced down at the frozen peas I was purchasing.

"Something like that..." I mumbled off, "But we're not together now and that's the important part, right?"

"I guess it is," he smiled charmingly, "Do you think I could call you sometime? I'd love to continue this conversation with you." My stomach did a hesitant lurch, like my gut was trying to tell me no, but I felt...rebellious. I don't know why, but Jessica's face popped into my head, smiling smugly like she had won one over on me. Justin had had his fun, so why can't I?

But then my stomach churned again and I realized it wasn't empty. It was full of a little life that I complicated not only Justin, but also any connection with any man. I wasn't going to waste this guy's time.

"I can't do that," I told him sadly, "Really, I'm dealing with some things right now and I don't think I'm all that... datable at the moment." He smirked at me, giving me a nod of understanding.

"That's cool, Sasheirah," he assured, "How about I give you my number and you can give me a call when you are... datable."

"That sounds -"

"Hey, I got it," Justin's voice suddenly broke in as he excused himself past the customers behind us, "Sorry it took so long, but I thought we might need..." When he trailed off, I realized that Damon was giving an awkward glance between myself and Justin and I turned to see Justin looking between Damon and I. I couldn't tell who looked more confused.

"Umm... this is Matthew," I awkwardly introduced, "Matthew this is Damon. We were just catching up."

"I'm sure," Justin grumbled, slapping down the sack of rice onto the register along with a bottle of honey, green tea, pasta, and a jar of tomato sauce. I guess those were the extra things he thought we needed.

"So...do you want my number?" Damon asked timidly. I could sense Justin stiffen behind me.

"Sure," I said, taking out my cell and handing it to him. He typed his number in before saving it. When I took my phone back, Damon offered Justin a courteous nod.

"Nice meeting you," he told him politely before smiling down at me, "Call me, anytime." He winked and turned to exit just as the cashier gave the total. I turned to face Justin, but he was making his way around me to slide his credit card through the machine. I didn't try to say anything. His tenseness was visible.

From the store to the car. From unloading to pulling off. All through the drive home and parking behind my Lexus...there was silence. He didn't even have the courtesy to turn on the radio. I was humming to myself must of the way home, too nervous that he'd lash out if I touched the dial and tried to block out the nothingness that was thickening the air. I almost jumped out of the car the moment he cut the ignition, but paused as Justin did. He looked like he wanted to say something, but decided against it.

I placed my hand on his arm to keep him from unclipping his seat belt and jetting out of the car. He shuddered to a stop and my fingers against the fabric of his windbreaker jacket felt so out of place and tingly that I had to take my hand back and settle it into my lap.

"Look, Justin," I began, not knowing exactly what to say, "I think you're mad right now."

"I'm not mad," he quickly denied, sounding as agitated as his rigid jaw was revealing.

"That's bullshit," I sighed, "I guess I can kind of understand why, but at the same time... It's really none of your concern if I exchange numbers with somebody -"

"You actually gave that guy your number?" he asked suddenly, snapping his head in my direction. His face was so soured that I wanted to feel shame, but I just got angry instead.

"That's none of your damn business," I snapped, "How dare you make that face at me. He was very nice and last I checked, I was single."

"You know what, Sash, you're right," Justin agreed, but it was laced with too much sarcasm to be believable, "You are very much single, so you can exchange all the numbers that you want. I can't do anything about that. Date who you want and when you want because that is your business. But you can't tell me not to be angry if I see some guy talking to you."

"And why not?" I asked, "You shouldn't be rude and giving me the silent treatment -"

"Sash, I can do what I want because that's none of your business. If I'm angry, then so be it. Just because you feel some type of way about it, doesn't mean I have to appease you by plastering some bogus ass smile on my face to make you feel better about what you're doing," he ranted.

"And what the hell am I doing?" I asked, turning around in my seat to glare at him straightforwardly. "Talking to a nice guy who's interested in me? Am I not allowed to talk to anybody? Am I not entitled to a date every once in a while?" Justin's intense gaze softened before he turned away from me and unclipped his seat belt.

"Whatever, Sash," he grumbled, pushing open his door, "Do whatever you want." He stepped out and slammed his door shut, making me jump. I craned my neck to watch him walk around to the back of the truck to grab some bags. I rolled my eyes and let myself out of the car as well. I stomped up to my front door and unlocked it, pushing it open angrily. I almost hit Bob with it, but he hissed and ran off before I could apologize. I turned to help with bags just as Justin brushed past me and into the house. I ignored how good he smelled and continued on with unloading the truck.

It took about five minutes of awkward unpacking, but the truck was now empty and the baby stuff was taken upstairs by Justin as I put away the groceries in the kitchen. I was on the last bag of frozen food before I heard Justin's footsteps approaching the kitchen. I glanced at the entryway and he was leant against the frame. He was playing with his watch before finally taking notice of me. He looked embarrassed for some reason.

"I'm sorry about the car thing," he mumbled, "I overreacted." I placed the pack of chicken into the freezer and balled up the plastic shopping bag in my hand when I was done. I felt like I should apologize too.

"I wasn't even going to call him," I mumbled as well, looking him straight in the eye so he knew I was being honest. It was hard to do because his eyes told me everything. They told me he was happy to hear I had no interest; relieved, really.

"I can't say that doesn't make me happy," he told me with a hit of shame, "But I have to tell you, Sash, you were right. You are very much single and I don't have any claims on you. You're certainly allowed to date and I'm going to have to accept that, I guess. It's just hard, ya know? I don't want to see you with somebody else..."

"Well, I certainly know that feeling," I said softly before taking a sudden interest in my kitchen floor. I couldn't look at him much longer. Now his eyes were apologizing and I wasn't trying to see or hear it.

"I just...You know...how I feel about you and I can't even imagine you forgetting that this soon... It feels so anyway, but I guess we're on two different sides. Of course you want to get over me as soon as possible and the best way to do that would be to just move on..."

"That's what I'm trying to do," I admitted, "It's not easy though. Especially with the baby on the way and everything. I'm kinda...stuck here."

"I don't want you to feel like that," he said sadly, "I want you to want me here."

"Honestly, Justin, if this baby weren't in the picture, you wouldn't be standing in my kitchen right now," I sighed, watching him wince. "It's not a matter of me wanting you here. If 'want' were the issue, we'd be together. I'd trust you again. This baby thing wouldn't be so scary. The future wouldn't have to be so awkward for our kid...because I want all those things. I want to just be happy and semi-normal again, but that's not happening."

"I can earn your trust back, Sash," he said, "I'm working on that every single day."

"I do trust you, Justin," I shrugged a little, "I trust that you'll be a great father. I trust that if I call you, you'll be here in two seconds. I can give you my social security number and debit card pin and all my personal information. I trust you with a lot of things, but not in a real relationship. I'll be looking over my shoulder and checking your text messages for the rest of my life. I won't look at any female the same once she's around you... I can't do it. It's not my place to baby-sit your actions and constantly be on the look out. That's too much stress."

"I don't want anybody else," he said softly, pouting a bit. "Why can't you just believe that?"

"If the tables were turned, would you believe me?" He gave me a saddened look that told me what I already knew. I glanced at the clock above my stove and back at him.

"It's not late, but I think you should be going," I told him softly. He nodded in solemn agreement.

"I guess there won't be any brownies," he tried to laugh, but it came out strangled before he cleared his throat. "I'll let you know when I'll be by to set up the crib."

"Okay," I said simply. Justin rocked on his heels for a moment before reluctantly retreating from the kitchen. I heard him say goodbye to Bob, who meowed a cry of 'No, don't go' before my door opened and shut. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, placing my hand on my stomach. It was hard to believe there was a little person inside of me, but it was nice to have the company in lonely times like these. It was nice to have a piece of Justin so close to me without having to get hurt by it.

For a moment I wondered if our child would look just like him. A bushel of curls and a hooked little nose...The thought alone made my eyes well up with tears.

I was sitting Indian style on the hardwood floor of our bag and box filled nursery. Justin was making funny faces at the screw he was twisting in, attempting to put our baby's crib together. I was tempted to ask why he didn't just get one that was fully assembled, but I felt like he'd take that as a jab to his manhood. The last thing I wanted to do was offend Justin. We were walking on eggshells around one another; despite the fact that we were both sitting here together like it was nothing. I, for one, felt the awkwardness as he asked me for each new piece after attaching a previous one. He was moving quickly like he couldn't wait to get it over and done with. I didn't blame him, I wasn't that much fun to be around. My emotions were so hot and cold with him. I thought about it and I couldn't deny it, but I wasn't going to apologize for it either. It wasn't my fault that he left my mind so conflicted. My heart and head were battling it out with my libido caught in the crossfire.

"Okay, so that was H and J...Where's D?" Justin picked up the manual from the floor by my foot and looked at all the pieces of the crib we had laid out against the floor for better viewing.

"That's D," I said, pointing to a metal flap on the floor. Justin compared the manual sketch to the actual piece as I rolled my eyes, "I'm not blind, Justin. I may not know where it goes, but I do know what it looks like."

"I know, I know," he rattled off, "I'm just checking for myself." He grabbed the flap, which apparently was supposed to go on before the screw. He blew out frustrated air from his lips and scowled at the screw as he twisted it back out.

"Speaking of checking," I suddenly remembered, "I set up my next appointment. I'm far enough to know the sex of our little bean."

"I thought that expression made no sense," Justin playfully chided, glancing at me from the corner of his eye before finally removing the screw. "Fucker..." he mumbled to the inanimate object as I smirked momentarily.

"Anyway," I continued, pretending not to hear him, "I can finally prove you and my mother wrong."

"Or you could prove us right," Justin suggested confidently, "Which you will because we're having a girl."

"Why can't you just accept the fact that our little bundle of joy is as testosterone driven and knuckle-headed as his father?" I asked, picking up an 'L' shaped metal piece that didn't look like it belonged anywhere on the crib.

"Because our baby is as estrogen filled and hard-headed as her mother," he shot back, "Pass me that screw." I reached by my side, putting down the unidentified 'L' before grabbing two different sized screws.

"Long or short?" I asked.

"Long," Justin said, reaching out as I dropped it into his hand, careful not to touch his palm, and put back the short screw, "When's the appointment?"

"Tomorrow," I mumbled shamefully. Justin looked at me with an annoyed expression.

"And you tell me now?" I shrugged. I didn't want to call him before he talked to me first. I didn't get the appointment until after our awkward kitchen talk last week, so I was a little nervous about bothering him with it. It was too awkward for me to have to deal with Justin. If he hadn't called last night and asked if he could put the crib together, I'd still be sitting in this room, staring at the unopened box.

"Sorry," I said quickly, "She squeezed me in."

"What time is the appointment?" Justin asked, finally attaching the flap and the screw properly.

"Why?" I asked lightly, "Got somewhere to be?"

"Maybe," he said nonchalantly, "I'm meeting someone for lunch tomorrow. I need to know if I should cancel." My interest peeked and my stomach knotted. Justin didn't bother turning around to look at me, but I could see him fighting a small smile. Asshole.

Who the hell was someone? I wanted to know. After all that shit he gave me for taking a damn number and he's making lunch dates. The nerve of that hypocrite. Then again, I had gone on a long spew about letting go and moving on and not having any rights to each other... Or did I just specifically say he had no hold on me? I can't remember my exact words, but it didn't matter. One minute he claims it's all about me and next he's having a lunch...date.

"Don't," I mumbled, sounding angrier than intended, "I can go by myself. I won't ruin your lunch." Justin stopped his cranking in a new screw long enough to look me over with a disbelieving furrowing of his brows, yet amused glimmer in his bright blue eyes.

"Are you mad?" he asked, a small smirk forming on his stupid face.

"Why would I be mad?" I asked, feigning innocence as I turned away from him. He had already caught my eyes and I'm sure they were screaming 'jealous rage', but his boisterous laugh had only caused deeper embarrassment and annoyance.

"Because I have a hot lunch date and you're insanely jealous." I scoffed and tried to look him in the eye, but settled on the tip of his nose so I could pretend I was staring him in the eyes.

"I am not jealous of your 'hot' date," I shrugged, "I may have one myself." Justin's cocky little face flattered and I felt triumphant.

"You been talking to that Dan guy?" he mumbled, suddenly more interested in building the crib again as his rigid form angrier snatched up the manual he had tossed to his side.

"It's Damon," I corrected, "And why do you want to know? Are you 'insanely jealous'?" He rolled his eyes and I laughed out loud. He apparently wasn't a fan of mockery.

"You really think you're funny, don't you?" he asked and I shrugged.

"I've always thought comedy would be plan B in case nursing didn't work out."

"Well, it's a good thing nursing did work," he mumbled, "'Cause I don't think you're funny at all."

"At least I'm not funny looking," I childishly joked back. Justin gasped dramatically and turned to face me.

"That's not right," he pouted, fighting off a small smile, "Now what if our baby looks just like me? Are you gonna tell them that?"

"No, but they'll be forced to wear a paper bag over their head until they move out," I chuckled as Justin did the same.

"We're horrible parents for joking about this," he said, leaning back on his arms and cracking his neck with a slow rotation of his head. I watched as he closed his eyes at the sensation, catching the sound of his pleased sigh just as it slid past his slightly parted lips...

I looked away and tried to clear my mind. He was just cracking his neck, for Pete's sake. I was turning into a teenage boy with all my warped fantasies. "That's so weird," I voiced and Justin faced me with an inquisitive expression. "Being a parent, I mean. Somebody's gonna be calling me 'Mommy'."

"But it's exciting," Justin countered, "I mean, this kid is a gift. We could be molding the next Einstein."

"Or the next McNabb," I said dreamily.

"Or the next MVP for the Lakers," Justin chimed in just as dreamily. "The possibilities are endless."

"If we do this right," I sighed, "That's what I'm afraid of. I don't want to mess up."

"You won't," Justin assured. I was staring at my feet because I knew he was staring at me. "Sash, you're going to be an amazing mother. You're so loving and selfless. Your heart is good and your head is on straight -" I snorted a tired laugh. Justin made me out to be so perfect that I almost believed I was half of what he was telling me.

"I wouldn't give myself that much credit," I argued.

"No, you wouldn't," Justin agreed, "But you really should." I rolled my eyes because that was my reaction to just about everything Justin. He annoyed me with his presence and his staring and his compliments, which were endless the moment he saw I was insecure about something. I knew he meant well, but I just wanted an honest moment. I wanted him to just tell me he was scared too and that we could fuck up and still be okay. He made it sound like it was so easy. Like we had it made, but we didn't even have each other. How was I going to raise this kid with a man I couldn't think straight around?

"What are you thinking?" Justin asked a moment later and I realized I was staring off into space at the floor where the screws were lined up on the floor. I blinked and turned to look at him. Justin gave me a soft smile, but curious eyes. There were some concern there too, but I just shrugged it all off.

"Nothing," I answered, "I'm a little hungry. I'll be right back." I struggled to stand for a bit and Justin instinctively held his arms out to catch me as I tried to straighten up. I slapped his hands, slightly embarrassed and insulted.

"Okay, okay," he complained, scoffing at my defiance.

"Damn, Justin," I complained, "My legs and ass are just a little numb from sitting. I can get up without assistance." Justin groaned as he stood up as well.

"Sorry, I was just trying -" His sentence cut short just as I stretched my arms high above my head and stood on my tiptoes. I sighed in relief as my muscles relaxed and bones cracked. I stretched a little longer before I noticed what he was staring at. My shirt had hiked up in the process and my round little baby bump was revealed. I went to pull my shirt down when he looked away shyly.

"I can't believe I'm actually getting this chance again," he said softly, "It's hard to believe it's real..." My hands rested on my stomach and I glanced down at his hands. My tummy seemed to warm at the idea floating in my head, so I reached out for him.

He hesitantly offered both his hands to my extended ones. I wrapped my hands around his wrists and guided them to rest on my belly. I was shaking at little from the feel of his pulse on my fingertips, but relaxed once I let him go.

His hands were so warm that I felt them through my t-shirt. I closed my eyes for a moment as he gently rubbed tiny circles over my belly. My shirt shifted uncomfortably, so I pulled it up again. Justin's hands slowly took their spot back against my stomach. My breathing hitched from the skin on skin contact. An electric bolt shot up my spine. He caressed my skin softly and I closed my eyes again. I had to. It felt so nice to have a warming hand on my warming belly. I swear my baby was doing cartwheels, or maybe I was just making up an excuse for him to keep touching me.

"You don't have to be insanely jealous," Justin said softly, smiling to himself, "I was having lunch with a guy named Pete. He's a new producer Tim introduced me to." I nodded, still engrossed in his belly massage.

"Still no Damon," I said softly back and his fingertips tensed against my skin before flexing back into a relaxed mode.

"Good," Justin said simply, obviously relieved. So relieved that I felt relieved too. As much as it drove me insane, Justin's jealousy gave me a small sense of confidence. I wanted to get over him, but a small part of me wanted him to want me still. It was a sick and twisted mindset I was in. I wanted to let go without ever losing him. How the hell did that work?

"Good," I mumbled back. We were swaying gently to an imaginary beat. The silence in the room wasn't deafening at all. It was one of the most comfortable silences Justin and I have had since everything had happened. It felt so normal here...just gracefully moving and closing my eyes.

It wasn't until Justin rested his head against my forehead that I realized we were standing so close together. His shirt brushed my bare belly and my eyes slowly opened. I was eye to chest with him. I felt a wave of nervousness and exhilaration flush through my veins as I lifted my head. The stubble on his jaw grazed my cheek's skin. I closed my eyes from the feel of his warmth.

"I love you," he whispered to me, almost like he didn't want me to hear it, but his lips were closest to my ear. There was heaviness in my chest at the sound because I knew he meant it and it hurt to know that in this moment it meant everything. To be loved was a gift I had to cherish, especially when it came from him. I was incapable of denying myself the delight that came with his honest words. I was content with his hands on my belly and us close together. It felt safe and warm and he smelled so good that I was almost falling asleep. My hands slowly ran along the length of his arms, the biceps and triceps and the curve of his elbow. I could feel his thumb move gently against my belly button. I smirked a little when it tickled.

And we kept swaying. We kept holding onto each other in this silence. I felt so scared to be here, but I couldn't tear myself way. Justin's hands were large and soft against my skin, but they were trembling as he delicately traced along its curves. I leant back a little and our noses brushed momentarily. Justin was breathing a little heavier than he should. His lips were parted slightly as he continued to stare down at my belly with a wondrous expression before finally raising his sight to mine.

His eyes were paler in this light and in our closeness, but they were beautiful still. They held so many emotions. Many I wanted to return, others I couldn't decipher. I never got the whole eyes being the 'windows to the soul' thing until now. I really saw everything he ever wanted to say to me dancing around in his iris. I wondered if he saw the same embarrassing emotions I was feeling. I wondered if he saw I wasn't tough at all when it came to him and anything mean I ever said or did took everything in me to do.

If I weren’t so busy wondering, I would've seen it coming. I would've seen what was right on the surface of his emotions, but instead I was stunned to find his lips on top of mine. It happened so fast that my lips mashed against my teeth before he massaged them into place with his own. My first reaction was to push away, but my loneliness consumed the situation. I felt so full in that moment. I was in a place - a happy place - that I felt was natural. The pressure in my chest deflated, as he pressed against my mouth in a desperate attempt to keep me held.

But I wasn't even fighting. I was so tired of fighting that I just fell into step with his moving lips. He sighed in content, both relieved and surprised. I could taste the syrup from his breakfast and I could feel his arms flex as I gripped the firm muscle beneath his tender skin. We moaned softly as we pressed closer together and his hands abandoned my stomach to rest on my neck and the small of my back.

And then I woke up. My baby was cold from the lack of hands on my belly. The same baby created on the last day we made love. The last day we made love because we broke up. We broke up because he fucked someone else...

My eyes shot open and my hands released his arm and hip to rest against his chest. I felt his heart thumping erratically beneath my palm and I hesitated, thinking that I did that to him. I made his heart beat faster. I wanted to keep that power, but then I thought of how hard his heart was beating when she was laying underneath him and how he didn't stop to think of me. I closed my eyes to push out the image as I shoved him back.

His flushed face and swollen lips were the only things I saw before my tears blurred my vision and I turned and stumbled off to my bedroom, slamming the door shut as I wiped my lips. I heard him call my name and I locked the door just before he attempted to turn the knob.

"Sash, please," he begged through the wooden barrier, "I'm sorry...I shouldn't...I shouldn't have kissed you...I-I didn't mean to mean to be so forward." He sighed and knocked and knocked again. "Sash, don't shut me out." I covered my face with my hands as I tried to choke down my sobs. I couldn't get them out of my head. My heart breaking was on repeat and I was hurting all over again.

I wanted to slap myself for kissing him. "Just go," I weakly demanded, ashamed and humiliated. "We can finish the crib later."

"I'm not worried about a fucking crib," he snapped, "Sash, come on! Open up!" He tried the door again, groaning in frustration as he banged and banged. I ignored him and he continued for a minute or two before sighing. "Sash, please..." I placed my hands over my ears like a stubborn child. I couldn't hear him beg like that. All I wanted to do was open up that door and just tell him I couldn't fight anymore. That I loved him. That I needed him.

"Justin, just get the fuck out of my house!" I shouted from nowhere, whimpering right after the words left my mouth, but I had to compose myself. "Just leave! I don't want to deal with you right now."

"Is that what you really want?" he asked calmly. "Do you really want me to go?" I took a deep breath and shook my head no.

"Yes," I voiced steadily, "I want you to go." There was silence on his side as I rolled my eyes to myself. I had slipped so easily.

"Okay," Justin said a minute later, "I'll go." I exhaled slowly and listened closely for his footsteps. They came a moment later as he jogged down the stairs. There was shuffling and then my front door opened and shut. I sat on the edge of my bed and listened as his truck's engine revved and his tires skated away, signifying I was alone.

I didn't feel the relaxation I was hoping to feel once he had gone. If anything, my emotions were spilling out like crazy now that he wasn't here. I didn't need to cover them up, so I let out the sob in my throat and lay back against my sheets. I cried into my pillow until I rolled over and saw the sun had set and realized I had dozed off.

I checked the clock by my bedside table and it half past nine. I sniffled and sat up, my eyes adjusting to the dark accordingly. I stumbled when I stood in my freshly woken tiredness. I sighed when I unlocked my bedroom door, remembering why it was locked before Bob's shadowy figure sprinted past me to impatient rest on the edge of my bed. I had forgotten all about him, I realized, as I stepped further out into the hall. He must've been waiting outside my door for most of the night, wondering why I hadn't let him in when I was clearly asleep.

I shook my head and sighed as I trailed up the hall towards the bathroom. Bob was just like Justin, scratching outside my bedroom door, begging to be let in.

I hit the light once I reached my destination. I barely made it to the toilet before I flushed out my bladder, which was aching from withholding release. I relaxed once I was finished and washed my hands and face. I made my way back out, hitting the light again before I turned out into the dark hall. I tried to ignore the nursery, but I took a step back to peak inside the open door. I hit the light and looked at the half finished crib and the forgotten manual. The neatly lined screws were still in place despite our mindless swaying and I was overwhelmed by the sight Justin and I must've been. The image of us in my head, wrapped up in one another like it was nobody's business. I hit the lights and walked back to my bedroom, no longer feeling sad, but definitely feeling stupid.

I crawled into bed and tried to get an empty head, but it was pointless. Tonight would just be a long night.

-------------------------------------------------------

I was sipping on apple juice I had picked up on my way to Marissa's private office. Despite the Justin fiasco, I was still excited about finding out the baby's sex. My mother had called this morning to remind me to tell her so she could pick out the right colors for my baby shower. She also called to ask where Justin was and when I told her wasn't coming; she almost shit a brick through the phone, preaching about him bailing out. I eventually got her off the line in time to make it into the office without her howling voice coming through my cell phone.

Marissa's private practice facility was cozy and the waiting room was full of sofas and lounge chairs. Its size made it more of a house than a doctor's office, which was fine by me. I was never a fan of the way hospitals looked, despite my occupation. I understood why people felt uncomfortable because things were so medical. Here there were framed photos on the walls of women and babies and women holding their babies. Everybody looked so happy and it made me squeal a little on the inside with the possibility of one day holding that happiness in my hands.

I was smiling when I signed in with the nurse at the front desk and she asked that I take a seat until Marissa called me out back. After a thank you and grabbing a mint from the candy dish on her desk, I turned to find an empty spot in the room. Instead I found a heart attack in the form of Justin Timberlake.

I gasped a little, but tried to compose my face as he shifted uncomfortably across the room. His sunglasses and baseball cap might've been enough to fool the others, but I saw him. I recognized that stature and the fact that he was looking up in my direction before turning away once I spotted him also gave me a clue. I was headed for an empty seat in the far corner, but decided against it. He was obviously here for the appointment and it would probably look weird for him to follow me into the examination room with us so far apart in waiting.

I swooped up a magazine from the center coffee table before sitting down in the seat next to him. I cleared my throat as to disrupt him. He was pretending to be into a Forbes magazine article. "How did you find this place?" I whispered, "I never even told you the time of the appointment."

"You never did get the chance, did you?" he asked sarcastically, "Since we were so.... preoccupied."

"Don't be an ass," I whispered harshly, flipping open my Cosmo magazine, "I'm serious. I hope you weren't stalking me." He snorted a laugh.

"Sash, don't flatter yourself," he told me softly, "I have my sources. I don't have to reduce down to stalking you."

"No, but you have to reduce down to speaking to Claire, huh?" I figured and he smacked his lips.

"Did she tell you?" he asked, disappointed like a five year old. I smiled to myself.

"No, but you just confirmed my suspicions," I said, feeling victorious.

"You tricked me," he grumbled.

"You walked right into that," I argued, "But whatever... I'm glad you're here."

"Are you?" he asked, "Because you never called or even texted to let me know where to go and at what time. Plus you didn't seem too pleased to see me when you turned around."

"I wasn't displeased, I was surprised," I clarified, "And you know why I didn't call..." I trailed off, feeling a knot in my stomach.

"Actually, I don't," he told me, "I thought this wasn't about us, it was all about the baby."

"It is," I said.

"Then if something happens between us, it doesn't affect the baby stuff, right?" he asked, "That's what you've been telling me all along."

"Well, stuff isn't suppose to happen, so when it does, things get more complicated," I complained, "Yesterday was very...unexpected and I didn't know how to just call and say 'hey, the appointment's at blah, blah, blah, like nothing happened."

"You could've texted it," he pointed out, "A text doesn't hurt."

"Depends on who you're texting," I mumbled, but Justin's deep sigh indicated that he heard me.

"Maybe..." he started, but cut himself short. "Never mind."

"No, say it," I encouraged; staring blankly at the Cosmo article I couldn't even begin to read.

"Maybe... maybe we can't...do this," Justin whispered gently, turning in his seat to face me. He took the magazine from my hand, and I was forced to look up at his face. I hated not seeing his eyes, but I looked up anyway.

"Do what?" I asked back, seeing only my reflection in his lenses. He shrugged.

"I thought we were mature enough to handle us and the baby at the same time, but we're not," he said, glancing around the room to make sure we had no specters. "Maybe we should do the baby stuff separate and come together in the end."

"What do you mean by 'separate'?" I asked, feeling a part of me recoil from the situation.

"I mean, I'm going to LA this weekend and I'll do a lot of baby shopping there. I have to create some kind of room for our baby in my house too. My mother wants to help out with your baby shower and whatnot, so she's coming back with me... Maybe you guys can do a lot of the shopping and baby things together. I'll just come for appointments. And I'll hire some guys to do the nursery."

"I want to do the nursery," I argued briefly, "I thought we were going to do the mobile and things like that."

"We are," Justin assured, "My mom can join us for that." I rolled my eyes.

"Is she our referee now?" I scoffed, "Justin, we slipped up once... All this isn't called for."

"Yeah, but I want to slip up again, Sash," he admitted, "I want to slip up all the time and that was almost too easy for the both of us, especially you and that's not fair. It hurts that we're not together anymore, but I think it sucks more because we want to be, but we can't...Not right now, anyway... I don't want you crying every time something happens. I can't keep hurting you like that."

"I was crying because I was angry at myself," I said, feeling guilty that he felt guilty, "There were two people in that room, Justin."

"Yes, but I was the one who started it,' he said shamefully, "Why are you fighting me on this? I thought you'd be happy about this."

"I am," I lied, sitting up straighter, "I just don't want you to feel like you're a burden or something. I know how much the baby stuff means to you and I don't want you missing out."

"I won't be," he said, "My mother will give me every last detail, I'll still be around... It won't be as much fun without you criticizing every last pink item I pick up, but I'll survive." He gave me a small smile and I shrugged him off, grabbing my magazine from the empty seat he tossed it on.

"Whatever you want to do, Justin," I said nonchalantly, "As long as you're here for the delivery of this family sized package, I'm fine."

"I wouldn't miss that," he said certainty, "I'll have the tape rolling." I wrinkled my nose.

"You can keep that footage to yourself," I told him, "Child birth isn't cute until the baby is in its mother's arms."

"Sasheirah!" Marissa's booming voice called. I looked up and stood when I spotted her at the side door beside the sign in desk. She smiled when she spotted Justin following me towards her. She asked how we were both doing and Justin introduced himself as we rounded a corner to our room. I already knew the routine, so I propped myself up on the examination table. Justin stood at my side.

"Are you both excited to find out?" Marissa beamed, setting up her sonogram machine.

"Very excited," Justin answered for us both.

"Good, it'll take just a second," Marissa said, pushing up my shirt once she settled into her stool. Her squeezed some of the protecting gel on my belly and I shivered because it was cold. "Time is flying. You're already three months." She seemed more excited than Justin and I combined.

"I know," I said, a bit relieved, "I can't wait."

"Neither can I," Justin chimed in, smiling brightly.

"Well, in due time you'll have your bundle of joy in your arms," Marissa sighed, "Now, lets get started." The machine hummed when she gentle placed the handle to my belly, skimming over my skin and spreading the gel. She adjusted some settings before I could clearly see our baby on the scream. Justin had stepped closer and when I looked up, he was engrossed into the screen like it was a five star movie.

"There goes the head," Marissa said, pointing. The head was definitely Justin's melon top.

"Well, I see what the baby got from you," I joked, making Marissa laugh and Justin turn a shade of pink.

"Yeah, but you remember where that head is coming out of," he shot back playfully. I groaned, Marissa cackled and Justin laughed at his own horrible joke.

"Oh, and fingers and toes," Marissa said, pointing, "Look at the little nose right there..."

"So beautiful..." I mumbled to myself.

"Yeah..." Justin agreed dreamily.

"And now if we go a little lower," Marissa said, rolling the handle over my belly to better her view. "We can see some tummy."

"Can we see what's below the tummy?" I asked jokingly. Marissa laughed at my impatience and Justin leant forward, barely containing his excitement to finally know.

"Are you ready?" Marissa asked, beaming at us both as we nodded enthusiastically.

"Yes!" I squeaked.

"Please?" Justin pleaded. The anticipation was almost too much and we were both on the edge of our seats.

"You're having..." Marissa trailed off as I stared at the screen. Justin had somehow taken my hand to squeeze and I was trying so hard to remember just how it felt since he wouldn't be around much longer.

"We're having what? We're having what?" Justin groaned in impatient distress. I glanced at Marissa and her face wasn't too please.

"Oh no..." she mumbled, moving the handle over my belly in all sorts of weird directions. Justin's grip on my hand tightened.

"What's 'oh no'?" he asked urgently, "Is the baby okay?" I felt myself panic from his tone.

"Yes, yes," Marissa assured, "The baby's fine, but this stupid machine just froze." She stood and slapped the side of the screen. She had clearly left my belly, but the little bean shaped head and tiny torso of my baby still stayed on the screen. Marissa groaned, mumbling something about cheap corporate something-something. I didn't understand her gibberish, but I was so disappointed in that moment.

"So... no more ultrasound thingy?" I whined when she hit a switch and the screen went black.

Marissa sighed deeply. "I'm sorry. I'll just go see if I can find another one. If not, we'll reschedule you for tomorrow, I promise."

"But I work tomorrow," I complained.

"Work can wait," Justin stepped in, "It'll take two seconds to do this, right? You can just be a little late." He looked Marissa for agreement. She nodded enthusiastically.

"Right," she said, "But let me go see if we can do this now. Give me a minute." She dashed from the room, leaving Justin and I with pouty faces. I looked up and watched as he reached under the bed and yanked out an unused stood. He adjusted the height so he could sit comfortably. He did this all with one hand because his fingers were still linked in mine. I was wondering if he had noticed, but when he finally sat down, he looked directly at our entwined hands.

"I'm surprised you haven't punched me yet," he joked, smiling softly. I shrugged as best I could in my lying position.

"We were having a moment," I said, "The excitement and the bonding over seeing our baby together."

"Are we still having our moment?" he asked softly, giving my hand a squeeze.

"I suppose we are until we know the baby's sex," I sighed, feeling a little blue because of that stupid frozen screen.

"Well, that might not be until tomorrow morning," he reminded, glancing up at me to catch my eyes briefly, "Does that mean we can hold hands 'til then?"

"Well, that might be a problem since I use my right hand for everything," I joked, "Writing, eating, washing my face, unlocking doors..."

"I can do all that for you," he said, lifting his free right hand, "I'm right handed myself."

We laughed at his ridiculous statement. "Then I guess I have no choice in the manner... "

"None whatsoever," he agreed, lifting our entwined hands to his lips, kissing my knuckles gently. My skin tingled where his lips laid and ignited my entire body.

"Hey now," I playfully scolded, "Don't start getting frisky."

"Sorry," he apologized, but he ran my knuckles against his cheek. I playfully jerked to punch him lightly against his flesh and he exaggerated my blow by pretending to get knocked out before laughing with me.

"Why are you going to LA?" I asked suddenly, realizing he never brought it up until today.

"I did a lot of shopping two weeks ago... I got a lot of stuff for my mom, so I was just going to drop it off for her. But when I was talking to her the other night, she was so excited about everything that was going on and she wanted to come visit. Watch you grow, give advice, make a scrapbook... You know, the usual."

"Wow, that's deep," I said uneasily, "Even I'm not scrapbooking...Then again, I don't exactly know how to do that."

"Well, it's her first grandbaby. She's freaking out over how well you're feeling and what the kid will need and if you're getting all the books you need...Plus she just adores you anyhow..." I warmed up at that thought. "Besides, I thought I'd give you a break. I feel like I'm smothering you or something."

"You're not," I assured, "It's nice to have somebody around to help me out with everything. Even the littlest things freak me out. I'm really scared when it comes to this baby. I afraid I'll give it peas instead of carrots and something horrible will happen." Justin laughed and I smiled because I knew it sounded crazy, but that's how I felt.

"I don't know why you worry so much," he said, "Sash, I'm not just trying to get back into your good graces when I tell you you're amazing. You have the best instincts in the world. You're naturally nurturing and I know that first hand because you took care of me. You're a nurse, for Christ sake! The kid has the best personal medical attention in the world, not to mention an excellent cook and a low tolerance for bullshit role model. You are all set to be a mother. I worry that you don't even need me." I rolled my eyes as my stomach welled up with butterflies.

"Shut up," I childishly mumbled.

Justin laughed. "You know that's why I want a girl, right? I'm kinda hoping she'll end up like you. Minus the defensiveness and anger." He was joking on the last part, but I still pouted and shot him a menacing look.

"I have my reasons," I grumbled and Justin's face softened as his smile flattered.

"I suppose you do," he said softly, looking down at our hands before slipping his from my grasp. He laid my empty hand gently on the mattress and folded his hands in his lap. I tried to hide my disappointment, but it was hard to do. He caught my face before I could compose myself and sadly shook his head. "See, that's why I can't be around you. I always hurt you in some way."

"That's not hurt, it's confusion," I semi-lied. I was confused.

"Whenever we do little stuff like that and we're having a good conversation and we feel good around each other...Sash... I-I'm beyond happy. I get my hopes all up like 'Yeah, she's definitely taking me back. We're gonna work this out' and blah, blah, blah. It's pathetic, really, because I know in the back of my mind... It's not happening. Not now and probably not ever." My chest jerked at the not ever part and I could tell you that hearing him end any hope for us was shocking. I don't know why. I had told myself multiple times it wasn't happening, but then I felt like he'd always be there trying... Maybe I didn't want him to just give up?

"I'm sorry," I apologized for whatever reason, "I guess... I can be hot and cold with you, but it's not on purpose. It's just hard to know what's okay to feel around you and what's not..." I tried to explain. "I don't think you're a horrible person, Justin. I think you made a mistake, but I can't..."

"I understand," he said softly, reaching up to give my hand a squeeze. I fought the urge to hold him when he went to pull away. "Sash, if I were you, I'd feel the same way... I'd be confused. I'd want you here, but far away. I'd want to hold you, but not want you touching me. I'd be constantly contradicting myself. Especially if you were around me as much as I'm around you. That's why I'm gonna distance myself. I want you to have a clear head and make the right decision for yourself. I don't want to influence you. Don't get me wrong; I want you to pick me. I want you to choose us, but I don't want you unhappy."

"If I'm not with you, I'm unhappy. If I'm with you, I'm happy, but then there are moments when I'm not because I can't get what you did out of my head," I agonized, "It's a lose, lose situation either way. I don't trust you fully and that's not good for me."

"And you shouldn't have to settle for what's not good for you," Justin agreed, "So I'm going to stop following you around like a lost puppy and begging for your mercy because you know how I feel and you know where I want to be. The rest is up to you. Hopefully, by the time this baby comes, we'll know where we stand. I don't want our complicated relationship to screw up our kid. We're role models. We're the biggest influence on our child."

"Molders of clay," I said and he agreed.

"Or PlayDough," he joked, "Whatever our kid is into." We laughed a little before calming down.

"I really hope we have a boy though," I thought out randomly, "They're so much easier...No periods, make up, boobs, pregnancy..."

"I beg to differ on that last part," Justin smiled, "But boys have to be molded into men and that's hard to do."

"Girls have to learn to be women. That's ten times harder in a man's world." Justin nodded in agreement before sighing.

"Sash, whether it's a girl or boy, it doesn't make a difference to me. I'm just happy to be here." I stared at him blankly, catching that glimmer of amusement in his eyes.

"Oh, save the mature crap for someone who cares," I joked, "I'm putting fifty bucks on a boy."

"No, I don't want fifty bucks when she tells us it's a girl," Justin said smugly, "I have to think of a better trade."

"It doesn't matter 'cause I'm not giving you anything, sir," I said confidently, "That size head requires a man's body for lifting, thanks to you. Our little melon top is a boy."

"Fifty bucks?" Justin raised a challenging brow, "But I want something a little more intimate..." I snorted.

"Dream on, pervert," I joked.

"You too chicken to trust your own gut?" Justin asked, "I thought we were definitely having a boy." His mockery flared my ego, which made me grunt in arrogantly.

"Fine then, you're on," I said, "But we aren't having sex."

"Fine," Justin agreed easily. I narrowed my eyes at him.

"Any kind of sex," I emphasized. He rolled his eyes playfully.

"Why is your mind in the gutter?" he asked, "Intimate doesn't equal sexual."

"You never know with your mind," I criticized. He laughed aloud.

"I guess I can't argue with that too much," he smiled before the door swung open and the noisy clatter of equipment sounded.

"Found one!" Marissa announced, quickly switching out the broken ultrasound machine with the newly discovered one. An assisting nurse grabbed the broken one and headed out quickly. Justin took my hand again as she warmed up the machine, squirting a little more gel my belly. She grinned at us and sighed. "Sorry for that little interruption. Are you guys ready?"

"Born ready," Justin perked up, giving my hand a squeeze. And then the little handle was pressed against my belly, spreading out that cold ass gel again. I stared up at the screen and there was the image of my little bean headed baby.

"Alrighty, here we go," Marissa squealed, concentrating on the screen while making small, careful movements over my belly. I watched as the baby shifted a bit. Marissa was mumbling directions to herself like 'a little to the right' and I was watching the baby shift in that direction. I guess he was laying on his little pecker, so it was out of view, but then a triumphant squeal from Marissa sounded he was full frontal.

"I don't see anything," I said, confused. It looked the same to me on the ink-blotted image of my child. Marissa pointed with her index finger, circling the nether regions of my baby.

"You shouldn't," she said, beaming at us both, "You're having girl. No thing necessary." She was beaming and I heard Justin suck in a breath.

"We're having a girl?" he asked to make sure. I heard it loud and clear the first time.

"Yes, sir," Marissa confirmed, "Congratulations." We shook hands before she handed me a towel to clean off the gel. Justin let go of my hand and walked Marissa to the door, discussing copies of the sonogram. When I heard the door shut behind her, I didn't look up. I felt him staring at me. I cleaned my tummy off and sighed when I finished, tossing the towel beside me as I sat up.

"Oh Sash...." Justin's taunting tone sung, breaking the silence. I rolled my eyes, finally looking up at his smug little face.

"Shut up," I grumbled, but to be honest, I was still happy just know what we were having. I could focus more when I was shopping. No more 'safe' colors.

"I think you owe me an apology," Justin said mockingly, batting his eyelashes at me, "You really hurt my feelings with all that boy talk." If looks could kill, Justin would be a corpse, but he wasn't the least bit threatened by my glare. In fact, he was laughing out loud. Cackling more like it.

"Fine, but this counts as your 'intimate' prize," I said before he raised a hand to silence me.

"Hold on now, little lady," he playfully scolded, "I get to choose my intimate prize."

"Well, what is it so I can give it to you already," I fumed. He wiggled his bushy eyebrows at me.

"Oh, I like it when you talk dirrty," he growled before howling with laughter. I shook my head and fought the smile from forming on my face.

"You're an idiot," I chided and he nodded.

"Possibly," he agreed, "But I'm also the proud father of a baby girl. I think earns me two points."

"But you're an idiot, so that's negative two points," I corrected. Justin snorted and rolled his eyes, slowing gravitating towards his previous position by my bedside.

"You're a sore loser, Sash," he pointed out as he took a seat on his stool, "Hopefully my prize will help loosen you up."

"These sexual innuendos are gonna have to stop," I said lightly, "You're working yourself up for nothing."

"Actually, I think you'll give me what I want," he said, "I'm not asking for much."

"Well, what is it?" I asked, turning so my legs hung over the side of the bed. I was facing him now and he was staring up at me like he was a little worried. I guess he wasn't so sure about my reaction and it made me nervous to see him nervous.

"We never had a proper date," he voiced softly, "And I want to take you on one." My stomach knotted up.

"A date?" I asked and he nodded. "Seriously? You want to go out on a date with me?"

"Yes," he said shakily, glancing down at my lap before looking back at me, "I want to do it old school too. Dinner and a movie. I'll walk you to the door and everything. And I get to pay for everything with no crap from you."

"What happened to you distancing yourself from me?" I asked.

"I will," he promised, shrugging a little, "This can be...a going away gift too."

"This isn't a real date," I clarified, even though I was feeling like a sixteen-year-old girl again.

"Okay," he said simply, "But can I still bring you flowers?" I rolled my eyes.

"Geez, Justin," I complained with a giggle, "Should my mom be there to greet you at the door too?" He actually pretended to think it over, making us both laugh.

"No, I'm not going to require that much," he assured, "But Friday, me and you have a date."

"I guess we do," I said softly, "But I have one question..."

"What is it?" Justin asked, sincerely interested in what I had to say.

"Can you please call my mother and Clare and let them know we're having a girl? I don't think I can take the screaming and I know I could deal with all the stupid 'I told ya so's." Justin laughed heartily and nodded.

"Of course," he quickly obliged, "That can be really annoying."

"To say the least..." I agreed, shaking my head at the nonsense.

"But, Sash?" Justin called.

"Yes?" I responded as he leaned in and glanced about the room, as if we weren't alone.

"I didn't want to say this, but..." he sighed, "I told ya so." I smacked my lips and growled. Justin laughed after getting a firm slap on the arm for being an asshole. I fought off the urge to crack a smile.

"Very funny," I said dryly, rolling my eyes. Justin was still beaming as he patted my hand gently.

"It's okay, Sash. No need to be bitter," Justin cooed, "We can work on getting you a boy later." I gasped.

"Like hell we will," I impugned and he laughed out loud.

"I just wanted to see your reaction."

"I think I'm having an orgasm."

I almost choked on the piece of chocolate lava cake I forked into my mouth when Justin so eloquently made his announcement. I quickly swallowed down the moist, delicious, chocolatety goodness, chuckling and groaning in satisfaction simultaneously.

"Me too," I agreed, enthusiastically humming. "Food orgasms are the best orgasms."

"I wouldn't say all that, but they are pretty up there on the list," Justin said, giving me a wink and forking up another piece of our shared cake. I watched as melted milk chocolate flowed out of the molten center and onto the scoop of vanilla ice cream that accompanied our dessert. I found myself regretting sharing this. I wanted it all to myself.

"We should've gotten two," I said, voicing my thoughts before forking up another chunk of cake, making sure to get some ice cream with it. My mouth salivated even after it hit my tongue, the warm and cold temperature mixture only added to the gloriousness of the moment. I closed my eyes and hummed another happy tune.

"We can still get another," Justin offered, "They have it in white chocolate too." My eyes shot open in awe, but then I looked down at my full belly (both from food and the baby) and decided against my urges.

"I can't," I pouted, "I know I'm eating for two, but I'm not even halfway into my pregnancy and look at me!" My agony was meant by the unphased gaze of Justin, who shrugged from his spot across the table.

"You look fine," he assured, forking up another piece of cake, "Beautiful. Glowing -"

"Yeah, yeah," I interrupted, rolling my eyes, "You are such a little sap. Why can't you just say 'Yeah, Sash, you're as big as a house!'"

"One, you're not as big as a house," Justin argued, jabbing his fork in my direction as he spoke, flakes of chocolate cake tossing haphazardly along our table. "Two, even if I wanted to say all that shit, you'd kill me before I even thought about it. And three, I'm not a sap, damn it. We all can't be self-loathing, cynical, pessimists such as yourself."

"Geez, thanks," I mumbled sarcastically, getting a huge forkful of ice cream. I shoved it into my mouth and dropped my fork, letting it clank against the ceramic plate. "I'm done." Justin shook his head and fought the smirk on his face.

"You're a weakling," he teased, "You can't even handle one itsy winsy, teeny weeny molten cake that's being shared by two adults and a growing baby?" He clicked his tongue repeatedly, shaking his head. "I don't know you at all..." I rolled my eyes at his dramatics, swallowing down my ice cream. I knew he was just being an ass, but I wanted more cake anyway.

"Fine," I sighed, picking up my fork again, "But when I'm tippin' the whale scale at the end of this pregnancy, don't say I didn't try."

"Don't worry, Free Willy, I'll have your back," he chuckled and I kicked him under as I fought my smile.

"Free Willy? Honestly?" I nagged jokingly. Justin raised his hands in mock surrender.

"My bad," he said, but he was grinning, "You said whale, and Willy's the first thing that came to mind."

"I guess that's better than a blue whale," I thought aimlessly, "Those are some big motherfudgers."

"Motherfudgers?" Justin asked, raising a brow as he forked up some ice cream.

"It's my new thing," I told him proudly, poking at the cake's middle to get more chocolate lava to flow out and entertain me. "I'm learning to sensor myself. I read one of the baby books you got me the other day and they said the baby can hear. I don't want to curse as much anymore. I feel guilty or something. Besides, when the kid actually gets here, it'll be a sponge - absorbing everything around her. I don't want her to have my sailor mouth. It's not one of my better qualities."

Justin nodded thoughtfully. "I suppose I should work on that too."

"I think you curse a lot less than me," I pouted, jealous of his self-control and my lack thereof.

"It doesn't matter who cusses more or less. The cussing in general is the problem," Justin told me soothingly, "Besides, we're in this together when it comes to all things baby. If you won't cuss, I won't cuss. Very simple." I nodded, forking up another chunk of cake and ice cream. It was so sweet and warm. I felt comforted by it and I knew that was a problem. I was probably going to be coming to Chili's more often now.

That's where we were, at Chili's restaurant. I wanted to go to Friday's, but didn't feel like walking and I most certainly wasn't going to make Justin pay a cab to get us through the city. He argued me down, saying we could definitely afford the taxi since we were eating at such a 'cheap' restaurant. Mr. Hollywood wanted to go to Maggiono's Italian something or other. If Justin wanted to go, it was insanely overpriced with tasty wine I couldn't have, so why torture myself by eating the free bread and salad so he wouldn't have to pay for my meal? I could handle a two for twenty dollars deal at Chili's, but God knows how much our meal would've cost at Justin's first choice.

So, after a lot of public arguing and scowling, we settled for Chili's on Filbert street. So far, so good. We only got stopped a bit in the beginning when a waitress asked Justin if he was who she thought he was. Justin took pictures with employees and signed the napkins and t-shirts of bystanders before lowering his Phillies cap and settling at the back table with me.

The rest of the dinner was uninterrupted. We shared our separate dinner plates - Justin's classic baby back ribs choice and my chicken fajitas. Dessert was currently being eaten together as well. It was nice and simple, this so called 'date'. Justin and I skipped out on our movie, not being able to find something that peeked our interest at the theatre. After grabbing an oh-so-healthy snack of Amish apple dumplings at the Reading Terminal market, we took a tour of downtown Philadelphia. Justin had the nerves to make me pose at random, holding my belly and pointing at buildings like the baby and I were on tour. It was sort of cute, I guess, but the moment was almost too sweet. Especially when a stranger offered to take our picture by City Hall and Justin stood behind me, placed his arms around me, and rested his hands on my small baby belly.

It was like formal prom shot, but he was so warm around me. I felt so safe and the baby felt safe too. I almost cried standing there, looking like a happy couple, when half of me wanted to tell him I knew where his hands had been and I wanted them off me, while the other half wanted to turn around and kiss him like nothing else in the world mattered. Thinking about it now still depressed me. At the time, I just sucked it up and continued on, nonchalantly brushing off any concerns of Justin by suggesting a trip to the Pennslanding Waterfront. The weather was comfortable, the seasons shifting accordingly, so we sat down along the stone benches placed out along the water and watched the Delaware river move along in soft currents. We talked a bit about Justin's music and his future plans for heading back to LA. He expressed his need to get work done and it alarmed me momentarily when he informed me of his decision to push his album back further.

"Sash, if you don't respond, I'm gonna assume you're in a coma," Justin's voice said, breaking into my thoughts. I shook my head a bit to clear it, glancing up at him from across the table. He tilted his head to the side. "Are you okay?"

"You look like Bob when you do that," I said, taking in the resemblance of their confused expressions. Justin raised a rectangular brow and looked at me warily.

"I'm gonna get the check now," Justin said, ignoring my statement. I pouted when he waved a waitress over.

"I'm not crazy," I grumbled, "Bob gives me that same look all the time."

"Probably because you are crazy," Justin teased just as our waitress appeared.

"Was everything good?" she asked for what felt like the millionth time of the night. She was staring at Justin, ignoring my existence.

"Yes, it was," Justin smiled, "I just needed two more of these cakes to go, but make one the white chocolate." I rolled my eyes, but didn't argue.

"Okay, I'll be right back," Tracey (at least I think that's what she called herself) said as she darted off towards the kitchen. Justin sat back in his seat and rubbed his stomach.

"I'm full," he sighed and I watched as he smacked his lips lazily, smirking at me when he caught my gaze. "What?" he asked, looking adorable as crap with his smile, his stubble, and his green 'Get Lucky' t-shirt.

"Nothing," I sighed, looking away as I sat up straight and stretched my arms above my head. I yawned and cracked my back. "I'm ready for bed."

"It's not even 8:30," Justin complained, checking his watch. "We still have to see a movie."

"There was nothing to see," I reminded him.

"I have some movies back at my place," he offered, looking away from my face as he did so. I rolled my eyes.

"Nobody's interested in watching your porno collection," I joked, making Justin chuckle lazily.

"I swear, your mind and the gutter are the best of friends," he smiled, "I was actually going to show you my collection of Sanaa Lathan movies and I have that movie 'Taken', which was bangin', by the way. I also have some romantic comedies and thrillers... I have some Shia LaBeouf crap too..." He mumbled off the last part, but I still heard it loud and clear. I burst out laughing when he pouted at me.

"You are so funny," I gushed out and he was fighting not to smile, "Now that you mention Shia, I guess I have to consider this movie thing..." He rolled his eyes.

"What do you see in that kid?" he groaned.

"I don't know..." I sighed dreamily, "He's so cute."

"Kittens are cute," Justin scoffed, "Shia LaBeouf is no kitten."

"You're right," I said, "He's sexy as hell, so I guess that'll make him a what? An Usher? A Channing Tatum, perhaps?"

"I'm going to ignore you," Justin frowned as the check came and our cakes were placed on the table, boxed and bagged up nicely. Our waitress was beaming at Justin as she cleared her throat.

"I'm really sorry 'cause I know you're out and you don't want to be bothered, but can I please get one picture with you?" Justin looked at me and smirked. I saw some amusement on his face as I just nonchalantly sat back in my seat.

"You have to ask my girlfriend first," Justin said, and I held my breath for a moment when he smiled widely as me and back at the girl who looked as confused as I felt.

"Justin -"

"She gets a little irritated when girls ask, so if it's fine with her..." Justin interrupted as I silently fumed. The girl warily turned to me, pulling a slim camera from her apron pocket.

"Can I get a picture with him, please?" she asked, looking annoyed by having to ask permission. I didn't like her tone and Justin was all too pleased with himself, looking for my response. I rolled my eyes at him.

"He was just being an ass," I told her, "I'll take the picture." She handed me the camera and comfortably draped her arm over Justin's shoulder as she bent down to his seated level. Justin hugged her waist and winked at me. I rolled my eyes again, angling up the camera. I counted to three and took the shot before she squealed and hugged Justin, thanking him again and again.

Justin grabbed the food and paid the bill, leaving behind a hefty tip. I didn't respond to any of it as I stood and wrapped my jacket around me. The exit was at the front and I moved swiftly towards it. Justin was chuckling ever so often as he trailed behind me. I rolled my eyes as I finally pulled open the door and felt the night air against my face. It wasn't cold, it was slightly chilly. I hugged myself and started towards Market street to catch a cab for us.

"Wait, Sash," Justin called out from behind me. I stopped at the corner and faced him. "Are you going home or my place?" My heart jolted a little, which was odd, but I ignored it.

"I have movies at my place," I said, "We can go there."

"Sash..." Justin whined, pouting like a six year old.

"What?" I asked, annoyed and confused.

"I wanted to show you my place," he stated shyly, having the nerves to look up and scrunch up his nose. He shifted his weight from foot to foot as he did so. "I wanted to... I dunno... I cleaned it up real nice and all..." I could've sworn his eyes grew two sizes larger as they twinkled in the city lights...Well, fuck me if he wasn't adorable, Chilli's bag of lava cakes hanging from his side. Cakes he had ordered for my sake because he knew I was now addicted to them. I wanted to just smack him for looking all cute and cleaning up his place for me too. However, I was still hesitant. I don't know why. Justin was Justin, regardless of the space, but something felt uncomfortably intimate about seeing his place. I didn't want to see his place for the first time like a new girlfriend all over again...But part of me was naturally curious to see how he lived apart from LA. I glanced back at Market street and then back at him.

"I'm not staying the night," I stated firmly. Justin smiled that crooked smile that made my belly tighten.

"Of course not," he said nonchalantly, "But you're more than welcome to. I don't know how many movies we're watching or if you get tired..."

"I'll watch the time," I promised. Justin just shrugged and nodded his head behind him.

"This way," he told me, "It's cheaper if we walk a little and catch a cab on Sansom street."

I laughed and headed towards his direction, "You're being cheaper?" I snorted at the notion and he nudged me once we were walking side by side.

"Not really," Justin admitted with a sheepish grin, "It's nice out and I don't mind the walking. It gives us a little private time."

"I guess..." I mumbled off into silence. We just walked together, looking about the city buildings against the night sky. Private time... I wanted to scoff again at the idea. We were walking in public, for one thing, and for another, Justin and I weren't good with private times. We always ended up fighting or kissing; neither one resulting in anything good. I tried not to think about it all though.

The streets were more crowded than normal, which offered the convenient distraction of people watching. It was early and it was warmer than expected. I felt at ease walking along the familiar streets of downtown. All the cute little cafes and resturants. Jewelry shop windows illuminated by spot lights and headlights of cars zooming by. With Justin there, I felt safer. I wasn't much for night time walking, but this felt good. It felt comfortable to walk together until I spotted a couple walking towards us, holding hands.

Justin cleared his throat and I knew he saw them too. We both were uncomfortable when they excused themselves and walked between us, disrupting our side-by-side walking temporarily. By the time they had gone their way, we were too uncomfortable to return to our previous side-by-side position. We stood a good foot or so apart now. We could pass as strangers instead of friends. It was Justin who slowly came back to my side, nudging me arm with his elbow.

"I've been meaning to ask you about that jeans ad thing," he randomly brought up. I snorted a laugh that wasn't the least bit amused.

"As much as I would've loved to have gallivated along a studio and have my picture taken, those jeans are no longer my size. I'm ten sizes too big for them now." My sarcasm and cynical take on the jeans made Justin nudge me again.

"You're having a baby, Sash," he cooed gently, "Stop being so hard on yourself."

"If anything, I'm being too easy on myself," I sighed, "Seriously, I was doing fine - working out and eating a bit better - then BAM! Justin Junior soils my ovaries and I'm three hundred pounds again."

"...soils my ovaries..." Justin laughed to himself, making me nudge him away from me.

"I'm glad that's funny," I stated drily and he just chuckled again before composing himself.

"I'm sorry," he said, smiling, "You're funny, but your self-esteem, rather a lack-there-of, is heartbreaking. And just for the record, Justin Junior would insinuate our baby is a male when she is in fact a female. So I think our lil' bean is more of a... Sash Junior." I wrinkled my nose.

"I don't want to have a junior of me," I pouted, "It's your fault I'm pregnant anyway. Giving her my name makes me out to be the culprit."

"How is it my fault?" he laughed, "A seed can't grow without good soil, so that's on you. I didn't ask your ovaries to be so responsive."

I rolled my eyes. "Maybe if you weren't so damn fertile in the first place -"

"Are you saying you regret our little bean before she's even out the oven?" Justin scoffed, jokingly, "Sasheirah Mallory Hanes, I'm offended!"

"You are too middle name happy right now," I grumbled, "Why did my mother have to put my entire government out there?"

"Hey, you can google anything about me if it'll make you feel better," he retorted, "But there's no sense in crying over spilled milk, Sashy. You're pregnant; I know your middle name... Things happen, ya know?"

"Trust me, I know," I sighed, checking the street sign. We were finally at Sansom and I hailed a taxi coming down the street just in time for us. It skid to a stop and Justin cocked his brow. "What?" I asked, reaching for the door handle. He shrugged without a word and bumped me from the door to open it for me.

"Ladies first," he said, making me roll my eyes as I slid into the taxi. The leather seat squeaked as I moved about to the other side to make room for Justin. Once he slid in, we were off. Justin didn't live too far at all, over on 21st and Arch Street. He paid the cabby once we were double parked in front of his apartment complex. The outside was gray with gold and maroon curtains and tassles, brass letters spelled out the address. There was a greeter at the door and I felt like I was entering a five star hotel.

The doors were automatic and opened with a swoosh when we walked up. There was a lot of people in the lobby, hustling and bustling about. Tall ceilings and marble walls. The floor was a spotless cream with large maroon rugs. There was a desk in the center of it all, with three workers dressed in maroon uniforms with gold stripes on their sleeves. Brown leather sofas and chairs were at every corner and there was a lounge area not too far from a grand looking staircase made of marble too. Expensive chandeliers hung from the ceilings like icicles, all different levels and all gold with beautiful crystals dangling above me.

"Sash, this way," Justin voice directed and I realized I was staring up and not moving. He smiled when I finally looked at him. He was walking towards the elevators, all gold too. I looked away and walked up to his side. "Nice, huh?" he asked and I shrugged as we continued on.

"It's all right." Justin chuckled and pushed the up button once we reached the elevators doors. There were five, wide double-doored elevators. He glanced about, watching the lit numbers rise and fall as the elevators moved. A couple of people stood beside us and waited until the first elevator to our right dinged and emptied. Justin and I were the first to get on. About ten people got on and pushed their buttons. Justin didn't press a thing. I looked up at him as we settled in the corner of the gold box, maroon carpet lining the floor. He just gave me a little nod of acknowledgment, so I shrugged and watched the other passangers pushed their buttons. A six, an eight, a twelve, and eighteenth. There was a PH symbol at the very top, but there was no button, only a key slot. My eyebrow raised up and I looked back up at Justin who was too busy looking forward and fighting off a smile.

I rolled my eyes. Of course Mr. Fancy Pants got a penthouse suite. Should I have expected anything less?

We waited patiently as everybody got off, one by one, until there was only an asian woman in a three piece business suit in front of us, yapping away on her cell about some hairstylist named Cynthia. I will never understand elevator conversations. Justin politely excused himself once the doors closed on the twelth floor and pulled out a set of keys. The woman's conversation came to an end as she stammered out something intelligable as she moved out of Justin's way and watched him put in a key beside the PH. The letters lit and he yanked out the key. She fixed her gaze on him as he walked back to stand beside me. She glanced at me and then back at him just as her floor dinged.

"Uhh... Yeah, this guy just used a penthouse key..." was the last thing I heard before the elevator doors shut behind her. I laughed and so did Justin once we were alone.

"You would get a penthouse," I teased and he shrugged. I watched his blurred reflection in the elevator doors ahead of us.

"If you're gonna do it, you have to do it right," he said smugly, popping the collar of his jacket. I rolled my eyes.

"What's real funny is that she said 'this guy'," I pointed out, "She didn't even recognize you."

"She was like forty..." he pouted, "I still have my groove, woman. Don't act like people don't respect JT."

"Justin, you just said groove," I laughed, "Am I entitled to call you a jive turkey, or is that taking it too far?" Justin laughed just as the elevator slowed and shifted weirdly. I glanced at Justin to make sure it was fine and he seemed content. I had never been in a penthouse. I might've seen one briefly in a movie, but to actually be riding up to one was surreal. I was so caught up in who Justin was that I forgot who Justin was. The boy from all those Nsync posters didn't seem to fit the man I knew.

When the elevator finally stopped, a bell ding sounded and the doors slid open. I was expecting a hallway or something like the other floors, but instead there was just a living room in front of me. Literally a marble step to tiptoe down and then there was a beautiful living area with gray walls and gold and navy blue accents. The leather sofas and chairs were a mixture of browns and blacks. The hardwood coffee table lay in the center of them. The carpet was a biege color that was so light that I was put to shame when my Chucks landed against it. I peeled off my shoes with just my feet as Justin kicked off his Nikes in the opposite direction. He sighed deeply with content when he finished, placing the bag of cakes on the ground beside him. After stretching his arms above his head and removing his green windbreaker, he grabbed the Chilli's bag and walked through his living room, tossing the jacket onto the black sofa. He placed the cakes on the coffee table across from the large plasma television that I just noticed was perched on a glass base littered with DVDs.

"You want something to drink?" Justin asked over his shoulder, walking past the living room and into the small kitchen on the other end. Silver pots and pans hung over the island he rested against, smiling back at me when I didn't answer.

"What are you smiling at?" I asked before lifting my hand to silence him before he could speak, "Nevermind. I'll take a glass of water." I didn't like the glint in his blue eyes and by the pout that formed on his face, I knew I shut him up with good reason. If he was staring at me and smiling, he was likely doing it for the very cliche reasoning that I was so beautiful that he couldn't help it. He was so corny that it drove me up the wall, but it drove me even more crazy that I liked his corny lines. That's why I shut him up because it was dangerous enough to come to his apartment and be alone with him, watching movies until God knows when, especially when I didn't have work tomorrow to motivate me to run home and get to bed early.

I pushed the thoughts back, looking around the room. There were thick brownish-gray curtains lining both sides of the walls to my left and right. I walked over to my right, stopping at a black leather love seat to drop my purse and peel off my black wrap around coat. Once I shrugged it off my shoulders, I tossed it aside and made my way to the curtain. I stopped in front of it, trying to find a break in it to peek through. My hands ran along the knitted fabric for just a second before they were suddenly drawn back, ticking off every inch that the curtains shifted.

I drew in a sharp breath when crystal clear bay windows gazed at the city. I was mesmerized. Skyscrapers and other buildings were black against the navy blue sky, but lit windows danced across them. The orange tint of city lights and the beams of white and red from traffic over a dozen floors below us shined bright. I could see the Ben Franklin bridge and the Delaware river a ways away, also twinkling with car lights. The moon was a illuminating the entire scene, so full and close that I could count the craters it possessed. This was perfect. I leaned forward and touched my fingers to the glass as I looked down. My stomach lurched like I would fall, but I didn't jump back, I just took in the scene of traffic and people below and smiled.

"Nice, right?" Justin asked, coming up beside me. I slowly backed up, needing a moment to regain a sense of reality.

"Yes, it's beautiful," I admitted, turning to face him. He handed me a glass of ice water. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," he said softly, smiling at me gently. I looked away, back at the city. It was easier to deal with Justin when I had such a distraction.

"I think I'm actually jealous," I joked, laughing at myself.

"You don't have to be," Justin assured, "You're welcomed at any time." I rolled my eyes, trying to stay focused on the Franklin bridge, but Justin was standing so close and his cologne was starting to soothe me. I tried not to take it in, but it was so distinctly Justin with a hint of pine, lavander, and baby powder. An odd combination that used to bother me since Matthew had smelled so much simpler, but good. My stomach tightened with a nostalgic yearning for that smell.

I sipped my water, reveling in its coolness. "Philly doesn't seem so bad from up here," I said, making mindless conversation, "It's like one of those touristy brochure photos."

Justin chuckled. "I thought the same thing," he said, "I have a nice view from my bedroom too though. You can see all of City Hall from there. It would've been beautiful to see during Christmas, ya know? They always light a tree there." I nodded in agreement, letting silence fall over us. I heard Justin sipping beside me and I glanced at him, watching him hold a large blue mug to his lips. It seemed to be something hot, the way he paused with every sip.

"What are you drinking?" I asked because I was curious and Justin tore his eyes from the city scene.

"Hot chocolate," he informed me and I frowned in an instant.

"You didn't say you had hot chocolate," I semi-whined and Justin smirked.

"I asked what you wanted to drink," he argued lightly, "You had options."

"When somebody asks what would you like to drink, it's either alcohol, soda, or water. Even juice is a rare. Nobody busts out the hot cocoa out like it's normal. Cocoa is a family affair or a snowy winter's night ritual." Justin stared at me, his gaze unwavering and amused.

"All right, Sash, I'm just going to sum all that whining up into one thing: you want some hot chocolate and I'm going to make it for you." He handed me his mug, hot as it was. It clanked against my glass of water before Justin took that from my hands. "Have as many sips as you'd like while I make you a pack." He walked away before I could argue and I glanced down at the mug warming my fingertips and at his back as he moved about the kitchen, preparing my cocoa.

The chocolate was so warm and inviting and I gave in, placing my lips on the rim opposite where his lips had been. The heat of the sweet brew was creamy against my throat. I was in heaven and a small part of me smiled at the thought that the cocoa tasted better because it was his. I could tell he put more sugar in it. Justin had the tendacy to put extra sugar on everything, as if he needed any more energy. The boy once put chocolate powder and sugar on his Frosted Flakes. I was so disturbed that he promised to never do it again.

But those were Matthew days and I couldn't help but feel happy that he kept some of his Matthew traits. I love Justin. I know he's Matthew underneath the Armani jeans and the William Rast windbreaker. His Rolex watches and custom made Nikes were all just for show. Justin may like them, but they didn't make the man. Matthew was the man; the essence of Justin. I felt a deep pull in my stomach for that simplicity. There were no ex-girlfriends or miscarriages in Matthew's life. I, for once, was the center of somebody's world. Of course the universe had to make it all a dream and snatch him right from under me. There must be some unwritten rule among the celestrial beings that Sashierah Hanes must never be completely happy.

I felt nauseaous and I glanced down at the cocoa steaming beneath my nose. It didn't feel like I was going to puke. In fact, my sicknesses have almost come to a stop, thank goodness, but my stomach still wiggled in a weird way and I placed my hand on my belly to steady it.

"Are you okay?" I heard and I glanced in the direction of Justin's voice. He was bent down slightly to keep the hanging pans from obscuring his view of me. He was gripping the bottom edge of the black microwave mounted on the wall, his face looking slightly flushed. His bright blue eyes were widened a little. His panicked appearance made me heart lurch forward for just a second.

"I'm fine," I assured, "I feel a little nauseaous, no biggie."

"Why don't you sit down?," Justin more so ordered than suggested. I glanced back down at the city streets, hesitant to leave my view. I closed my eyes for a moment and rubbed along the curve of my belly slowly.

"I'm fine," I assured, "Must be all that chocolate cake." He playfully wrinkled his nose, smiling as he relaxed his rigid form and stood up straight.

"Well, I've got some Pepto in the medicine cabinet if you need it," he chuckled, turning his back to me to tend to the cocoa in the microwave. I rolled my eyes and sipped his cocoa again, letting out a warm breath against the glass. I was blinded by the smokey condensation that formed before I wiped it off and put my forehead against the cool glass.

I could wake up to this every morning, I thought over and over again. I was seeing my hometown with new eyes from here. I was getting tired of Philly. I was bored with knowing almost everything about it. It barely held my interest. I just lived there without really living it - Philly and it's sights and sounds, but now... Now I felt like a tourist. I wanted to know the names of buildings I passed by a million times before. I wanted to know who built that Ben Franklin bridge and I wanted to know why there was so much traffic on a Sunday night.

The padding of Justin's footsteps entered my conscious as I waited for him to draw closer, but they took an unexpected turn and I faced the direction of the noise. Justin was placing a coaster on his coffee table and placing my mug on top of it before he smiled up at me and gestured toward an empty spot on the sofa in front of it. I slowly away from the city view and walked carefully to where he stood. Justin took his mug from my hand slowly, his fingers seeming to purposely graze mine for an unnecessary amount of time.

I glanced up at him and he quickly diverted his eyes from mine, confirming my suspicions. I cleared my throat and plopped down on the leather sofa, adjusting the square pillows behind my back.

"What are we watching?" I asked trying to ease the knot forming in my stomach. Justin shrugged, walking around the coffee table with his mug in hand. He grunted when he finally took a seat beside me, keeping a reasonable distance between us.

"Want to see what's on t.v. first? We can order a movie if you want." He grabbed one of the four remotes lined up on his coffee table. He sipped from his mug as he pushed a button, focusing on the plasma that came to life, blaring out CNN. Justin took a moment to shake his head at some drug bust in Korea before I finally looked away from his scuffy face and watched the television. He was using the guide to find a movie and he suck in a breath when he highlighted his selection.

"Where the Wild Things Are?" I smiled, remembering that book clearly from my childhood. I turned to face Justin who was beaming.

"Hell yes!" he chuckled, "I wanted to see this when it came out, but I was too ashamed to go to see it alone." He laughed at himself and I rolled my eyes, holding back to urge to ask why he didn't invite me.

"I want to see too," I said nonchalantly, "Buy it." He was already halfway through the purchasing process before I could finish my sentence and I couldn't help but giggle when he sat up straight and and grinned at the screen like a five year old.

"I cannot wait to buy this DVD," he said, "I'm talkin' blue ray three disc special!" I rolled my eyes as placed my mug on the coaster. The music started playing and Justin turned up the volume, his eyes widening out to saucers as he leaned forward a bit. He was absolutely adorable. I sighed and turned back to the movie. Tonight would be a long night.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

'Eagle Eye' was just coming to an end. Shia was stepping into the boy's birthday party, looking like a five year old himself. I rolled my eyes. What the hell did Sash see in that kid? I met him once and he seemed like a douchebag. A total tool, actually. Well... he was kind of funny, I guess, but whatever. He smoked. Sash would hate that. She hated cigarettes. Sash was a walking, talking anti-drug ad. She'd kill me if she knew I used to smoke a little green. It was just a phase though, nothing deep. I wonder if I should mention it...

Hell no. I was in enough trouble as it is.

I turned to glance at Sash since she was so quiet. I found her leaning against the arm of the sofa, held tilted and eyes closed. She had curled up into that corner of the couch, her hands resting on her tiny baby bump. My eyes traveled back to her face and I relished in her simple beauty. A bit of mascara darkened her lashes and the shimmer of eyeshadowed glowed in the television light. She didn't need even that little bit, but a part of me was harping on the fact that she put in the effort. I was pretending she glamoured up for just me. It was pathetic thought, but little things like that kept hope alive for me and my future with Sash - if there was a future.

I sighed, stretching as I slowly stood, careful not to make any noise as I crept around the coffee table. I quickly moved toward my bedroom down the narrow hall past the kitchen, flipping on the dim lamp by my king sized bed once I reached my destination. The navy sheets were a wrinkled mess with my PDA and Ipod Touch tossed haphazardly in the center of it all. My mother would be proud of how quickly I grabbed my electronics and placed them on my night stand to adjust my sheets. I shook everything out and made it smooth and crisp, fluffing up the pillows as well.

I glanced at my alarm clock. It was almost one in the morning and I wouldn't let Sash go home even if she was awake. Her falling asleep was the extra boost I needed to make her stay. She could be so stubborn at times, I thought as I made my way back down the hall to the living area. As I finally approached Sash's sleeping form, I knelt down beside her, stroking the fallen strands of hair from her forehead. She sighed and her sleep, moving her head against my touch. My heart swelled up in my chest. She wanted me closer, at least in her sleep. I wish she'd say it out loud though. I wish she'd admit it.

"Sash?" I called softly. She didn't budge, "Sash, baby, you gotta get up..." She whimpered in protest when I gave her a gentle shake.

"No..." she moaned, slapping my hand away. I chuckled.

"Come on, girl," I smiled, "Lets get you to bed. You can sleep there."

"No..." she sighed, "No..." I rolled my eyes. She was half asleep and still fully stubborn.

"Sasheirah Mallory Hanes..." I said in a sing-song voice, "Time to get up temporarily. You're gonna have a cramp the size of Texas in your neck if you sleep on this couch. Believe, I know about couch-caused neck cramps."

"You are so annoying," Sash groaned. I stood when she quickly sat up, looking around the room like she was lost before looking up at me with narrowed eyes. "What time is it?"

"Almost one," I said, "You're staying here." She rolled her eyes and stood, stretching and scratching her head. I smiled softly and she scoffed when she saw it.

"I'm too tired to argue with you, which is the only reason why I'm not in a cab." Sash pushed past me as she made her way toward my room. I followed suit before she turned suddenly, pushing her hand against my chest to distance our almost collided bodies.

"What?" I asked, confused.

"Justin, do you honestly expect us to share a bed?" she asked, rubbing some sleep from her tired eyes.

I shrugged. "It's a king sized bed. I have extra pillows. We can build a boarder between us." She stared up at me, her brown eyes indecisively shifting. It took a second, but she finally looked away and continued onward.

"Whatever," she mumbled, "You better not touch me." I took a deep breath to keep from arguing that I wasn't a rapist. It was late and I was starting to feel the weight of the day on my shoulders.

"Okay, Sash," I said simply to appease her, "No touching." When we finally reached my bedroom, she haulted her movements by the door, glancing back at me as I brushed past her. There was a silence with awkward looming in the background when I turned to face her. Sash was leaning against the doorframe, staring at the floor.

"You can come in ya know," I joked, trying to make light of the tense air. She slowly stood and stepped forward, looking around at her surroundings. Her eyes landed on my keyboard and the song book resting on the chair of it. Her eyes seemed to darken with a sadness I didn't quite understand, but she diverted her attention too quickly for me to fully process it.

"Do you have something I can change into?" she asked, glancing down at her loose fitting sweater and jeans. I nodded, walking to my bureau. I dug through until I found some sweat pants shorts and an oversized white t-shirt. I walked to where she stood by the edge of the bed.

"It can get a little chilly, hence the shorts. Let me know when you're done changing." I made my way out in the hall, pulling the door behind me. I rolled my eyes once I was alone. I went out to the living area to turn off the television and to draw close the open blinds before coming back to my bedroom door, which was now open. Sash was under the sheets on the side farest from the door, building a pillow boarder behind her. She paused for a moment when she noticed me.

"I called you, but you weren't in the hall," Sash announced once she finished.

"I was just double checking stuff," I said, shutting the bedroom door behind me. The clicking noise that usually went unnoticed seemed to boom. I cleared my throat as I walked over to my bureau, unhooking my chain from my neck. It clanked when I laid it across the dresser top. I looked ahead at the mirror, catching a glimpse of Sash's reflection as she watched me. She quickly diverted her eyes, pulling the sheet up to her chin as she laid all the way down.

I didn't make mention of it as I pulled my shirt over my head, the air chilling my skin, but I was comfortable. I folded up the shirt before I undid my belt and laid it next to my folded shirt. I took my jeans off, keeping on my socks and boxers. I grabbed everything but my belt and made my way to the hamper in the corner by the window. I cracked my back and stretched from side to side before walking around to the empty part of my bed. The mattress creaked beneath my weight when I crawled on it. Sash had been facing toward my side, but as soon as I settled, she turned away to face the window.

"Goodnight, Sash," I said softly, waiting for a response.

"Night," she mumbled back. I frowned at the muffled noise and laid back a bit, switching off the lamp, before laying all the way down. I wrapped my sheet around me, stopping when I thought I was taking too much. The pillow boarder gently grazed my bare back as I turned onto my stomach and faced the door. My eyes slid shut, but my mind overflowed with images of Sasheirah. My stomach was tight from knowing she was laying beside me. If I sniffed hard enough, her perfume lingered in the air...

I reached over to my nightstand and blindly felt around for my Ipod. I sighed when I finally got it, wasting no time to turn it on. When the earbuds settled in my ears, I almost threw it across the room.

Well fuck you too, Alicia, I thought bitterly. I searched and skipped over every love song that came on, settling on some angry Eminem instead. It was loud, but distracting, to say the least.

I never slept so good in my life.

“Sash, this is just ridiculous… A week? Fine, I’ll give you that. Two weeks? A little unnerving, but I’ll let you have that too… Three weeks? I’m calling co-workers… Four freakin’ weeks? I’m sending out a got damn search party! I’ve been to your house, your job, and I’m two seconds away from paying your mother a visit… Did you hear me? Your mother, Sashierah! Please don’t make me have to do that ‘cause you know the chances of me making it out of there are live are slim, so  just … call me back or text me or something so I can know you’re okay…okay? Thank you.”

I stared at my cell as I pressed delete for the millionth voicemail Justin has left on my phone. I felt a little bad because Clare was getting on me about having to make up excuses for where I was when Justin showed up at my job or called. I was always ‘assisting some emergency situation’ or ‘helping deliver a baby’, she’d tell him, and she said he had a look on his face every time, like he knew she was lying, and would just leave or wander about to see if I’d walk past or get paged. He had no idea that half the time I was hiding in the nursing lounge or in a bathroom stall several floors above him.

I was avoiding him like the black plague because I was embarrassed and hurt over something that wasn’t my business in the first place. I was being a gigantic hypocrite.  Being in this predicament was my entire fault too because ignorance would’ve been bliss had I minded my own business. It happened four weeks ago, the night I had slept over Justin’s place, unwillingly. I had rolled over in the morning to find he was gone, leaving a note on his empty pillow, telling me to help myself to whatever I needed ‘til he got back in from a morning run. As I made my way into the living room after stopping to make a bowl of POPs cereal, I caught the flashing light of his answering machine. The red beam was just calling me, blinking and coercing me to come over. I should’ve never pressed play.

“Good morning, Sexy,” some heifer said through the line, sounding right out of those late night phone sex commercials. Her voice was laced with what sounded like a Latin accent, breathy and purring, “You know who this is and you know what I want… I’m a little disappointed you didn’t say you were in town. It’s been a while and I miss you… And I know damn well you miss me, so don’t keep me waiting, baby…” And that was it. Click. Done. The bitch straight up left the message like that and it burned me up to know that’s all the info he needed. Her voice, a ‘miss you’, and a dial tone. He probably knew her number by heart and from the sounds of it; he knew her anatomy quite well too. It took everything in me to throw out those POPs and almost run out of his penthouse without bawling my eyes out. I pressed delete, being damned if he got that whore’s message, and bounced out of his apartment, POPs left behind on the coffee table. I barely made it out of the cab in front of my place before I was crying like an idiot.

It made me so angry that I cared so much, but how could I not feel a little hurt when he was talking all his shit about wanting only me when that wasn’t the case. Especially now, when I was pushing him away and looking like a cow with this baby bump the size of Texas; things were tense as ever. It was the perfect time for him to stray away and forget about me. She was probably all thin and tan like some Adrianna Lima wannabe… Hell, it could’ve been Adrianna Lima for all I knew. I keep forgetting who Justin is sometimes. It could be any woman in the world because he knew them all and had connections…

My hand ran soothing circles over my belly, which hung out of my tank slightly. My belly button was jutted out and I idly traced circles around the small, soft ball it formed into. Bob was sleeping by the television, sprawled out against the rug on his side, his belly becoming as round as mine. We spent these last four weeks eating and watching Grey’s Anatomy reruns. I couldn’t stand it, but it was better than answering Justin’s calls…

T.V. and food weren’t my only distractions though. I had, in some unhealthy fit of rage, sadness, and loneliness, taken the liberty of texting Damon from the supermarket. I don’t know what possessed me to do so, but I had been playing in my phone two weeks ago, debating on whether or not to call Justin, when

I passed his name and decided to distract myself. I figured he wouldn’t reply because he’d never remember ‘the supermarket girl’, which I referred to myself as when I texted, but he promptly wrote a cautious ‘Sash, right?’ and we’ve been chatting randomly ever since. It was nice, flirty, casual conversations that I enjoyed more than I should. I smirked just as my phone vibrated in lap and Damon’s name was on my screen.

Watcha doin?

Nada…wassup?

Depends…

I raised a brow, smirking slightly like I was in on his inside joke.

On what?

On...if you say yes…

Depends…

On what? :p

I giggled to myself, he was such a smartass.

Lol depends on what ur asking…

What if I ask you to get a meal with me…maybe catch a movie?

I stared at the screen, glancing over at Bob like some guilty child about to do something bad. My stomach tightened and I glanced down at my belly, round as ever and full of Sashy Junior. I closed my eyes. This would be a date, right? But if I said it wasn’t a date, but we could go to dinner, that would still be fine, right? I rolled my eyes to myself. I was over thinking. Why analyze? I was single, by choice, and I could date or not date if I pleased… But Justin’s stupid face was in my head, bouncing around and taunting me.

I can’t…I work all week

Damn, I was always hiding at my job.

Next week?

I rolled my eyes again, trying to think of something to hold up my time.

Umm…Idk…Had some family things going on…

I’m starting to think u don’t like me :(

I groaned, shaking my head because it wasn’t the case. Damon seemed cool enough. He was good looking and was in graduate school for psychology at the University of Penn, so the boy had a brain that functioned and could probably offer me the therapy I desperately needed at a discounted price…

No, no… I like u… I’m just busy. Don’t u have hwrk or sumthing? Lol jk

Hah…ur funny. I’m sry I’m trying to better myself… I’ll just drop out now if it bothers u…

No way! U make more money with a graduate ed. and I don’t come cheap

Figured u only wanted me for my future money…

Who said I wanted u in the first place?

Damn…ok, I see how u are…

I’m just being honest…

If you weren’t so cute I wouldn’t care, but my ego is bruised

I bit my bottom, trying not to get flattered like some inexperienced school girl, but… he called me cute, damn it.

Well, since u think I’m cute, I guess ur ok…

Ok enuff for dinner and a movie?

U just don’t quit…

Quitters never win…

Persistence doesn’t always pay off

Is that the case now?

Maybe…maybe not

I’m taking that as a yes :(

That was a definite maybe ;)

Next week, me and u and a little italiano

Or…we can bypass the bullshit and get some Wendy’s…

Ur every man’s dream… but I gotta treat you to sumthing better than Wendy’s

What’s better than a Wendy’s chicken club and a vanilla frosty?

I see ur point… Wendy’s for lunch and then sumwhere nice for dinner

How’d you go from no date to 2 dates?

Cuz I’m smooth like that ;)

U wish…

…and yet ur going out with me…twice?

Stfu b4 I change my mind

:X

Lol

--------------------------------------------------------

I’ve been staring at my cell since I could remember and I couldn’t put a finger on what the hell was going on. It was booted up and running, I’m certain. The bill was always paid and I was lying in bed by the window just to assure I had five bars of signal strength and yet… It wasn’t ringing, vibrating, buzzing, chirping, or whatever the hell else this piece of shit is supposed to do when I’m being contacted…

Actually, that’s a lie. It has been doing all it’s supposed to with the exception of receiving any sort of contact with Sasheirah.

I was beyond confused. Yes, it was sort of awkward having to share a bed the last time she was here. Yes, I woke up to her tucked beneath my arm, hugging my waist like shit was normal, but I crept out of bed so gently that she didn’t wake, so there was no way she could’ve even known she was in such a compromising, vulnerable position.

I was the one who kept playing it over and over in my mind trying to get it to stick. The warmth of her body and the softness of her hair and skin weren’t easily forgotten when the moment was over, but I woke up feeling electric when I realized she was so close to me. How could I not when it’s all I ever wanted? When

I realized that she would’ve been cuddled up to just about anything, including her cat or a pillow, I decided to take that godforsaken run to calm my nerves and get a grip. No matter how hard she was squeezing me in her sleep, a conscious Sasheirah would’ve denied me. A conscious Sasheirah would let it be known that her affection was regrettable.

But Sash wasn’t conscious when I left and I didn’t tell her about it, not that I had the chance, and I certainly didn’t do anything romantic like make her the breakfast-in-bed or written ‘I love you’ at the end of the note I left her. No, I didn’t do any of that shit because I was trying to save myself all trouble and yet… I was in trouble, –apparently huge trouble – and the worst part is not knowing what the hell went wrong.

“Justin… I love ya, brother, but if you’re havin’ me on speaker just to breathe to me, I gotta go. I could be doing something more productive… like my fiancée…” I rolled my eyes at my cell phone, wishing Trace was next to me so I could punch him for being such an ass.

“I’m sorry, man, there’s not much to say – she went off runnin’ when I went for a run… I’m getting worried though… I mean, Sash is sometimes a little non-responsive to my desperation, but she’s been a lot more considerate whenever I mention the baby and I’ve mentioned the baby in just about every voicemail and text message and still nothing… What’s up with that, man?” I pouted, staring up at my white bedroom ceiling. I haven’t moved in nearly an hour. My basketball shorts were starting to annoy me and the sheets against my bare back seemed to make me itch as I wiggled, getting restless.

“I dunno man,” Trace sighed through the phone resting against my chest, “I wish I knew her better. She seemed really cool before… everything…” I winced. I don’t think Trace has even forgiven me for that yet.

“Look, the only way to catch her is to stalk her at this point. She’s avoiding you and you didn’t do anything wrong this time, so something might just be upsetting her. Is there anything she wouldn’t feel comfortable talking to you about?”

“Geez, I don’t know, man… Everything Sash related?”

“Don’t get smart with me ‘cause your woman’s drivin’ you crazy,” Trace chuckled, but I couldn’t find the humor in it.

“I have been stalking her. Calling her and her friends… Showing up to her job… Waiting at the times she usually goes home… Dude, I even drove to every Wendy’s joint in the vicinity… I don’t know what else to do. Check her bank statements? Credit card account?” Trace was silent for a moment and then it clicked.

“No, I’m not that low.”

“Hey, I’m just saying… You can get your fingers on where she’s been… Maybe she went to Bermuda and got lost in that triangle…” My ears couldn’t believe it and I was worried that Trace was serious about going through her account…Although it was rather tempting to see if she was out of town.

No, no. What the hell am I saying? I rolled my eyes, using my toes to peel my white tube socks from my ankles down. “No way in hell. I’m in enough trouble… If Sash thought I went through her personal shit, she’d fuckin’ murder me… Murder. Dead. Gone. I’m not even joking.” Despite my seriousness, Trace laughed.

“This woman’s got you so scared, man,” he said, smiling through the line, “You’re whipped.”

“I never denied it,” I said dejectedly, “I just wish she’d see that.”

“She does, that’s why she’s being so stubborn,” Trace said comfortingly, “You hurt her big time – she’s trying not to forgive you so she can stay mad and move on.”

“I don’t want her to move on…” I admitted, “I’m not that big of a man.”

“It’s not your call anyway,” Trace said quickly. I felt a pang in my chest.

“Thanks so much for having my back,” I bit back sarcastically.

“I’m not goin’ lie to you; that’s not what real friends do,” Trace said, “You fucked up.”

“I’m aware of that,” I said, “Me fucking up isn’t the issue right now though. Sash disappearing is.” I didn’t need that shit right now and Trace knew it. I was upset as is. The idea of Sash fleeing the country with my baby was overwhelming and he was throwing past shit in my face on top of all that.

“Well, it’s still early over there, right? She’s gotta come home sometime.”

“I’ve already staked out her place,” I complained.

“All night?” Trace challenged. I furrowed my brows.

“No, not all night,” I said, “Can I eat and sleep? I mean, I know she’s alive, so –“

“Do you love this woman?” Trace interrupted.

“That’s a dumbass question,” I said, rolling my eyes again at his idiocy.

“I didn’t ask you that,” Trace shot back, “Do you love her, yes or no?”

“Yes,” I said, playing his stupid game.

“Do you want to find out what’s been keeping her so busy?”
I rolled my eyes, “Of course, duckweed,” I sighed, wanting him to get to the fucking point. I didn’t have the energy for mind games.

“Then guess what, dickweed? You’re gonna pull an all nighter. That’s the only way to get her. Bring a pillow, some Scooby snacks, and bucket to piss in. It’s gonna be a long day.” I wrinkled my nose. Trace could be so foul sometimes.

“I think I’ll just take my chances pissin’ at the gas station or 7-11,” I said.

“You might just miss her while you’re gone,” Trace said in a teasing tone, “Bring yourself a bucket.” I scratched my belly and shook my head at the ceiling. I was going to actually stake out the joint. I was really going to be a stalker – ‘Nsync-crazed-fan style.

“Should I bring binoculars too? Maybe some duct tape and some rope in case she gets crazy when I tackle her?” I laughed at my own ridiculousness and Trace joined in.

“Hey, I’m not gonna judge you if Sash likes that bondage stuff…” Now I really couldn’t swallow my laughter, bursting with a laugh that hurt my stomach. Trace always knew what to say, even if nobody else saw that.

“Thank you,” I breathed once I calmed down. “I don’t think I’ve laughed that hard in a while…”

“I’ve noticed,” Trace said, pausing for a moment. I felt the weight of something serious looming, “Are you okay, man? Like for real?” I rolled my eyes, shrugging even though he couldn’t see me. I’ve known Trace since I was in the womb. He was my brother. He knows my best and worst sides. He knew me on some levels that even my mother didn’t understand…

But there was pain still residing in my chest… The guilt, anguish, love, frustration… Even though it was all driving me nearly insane, I felt that he would never understand. I felt that he was on Sash’s side, and rightfully so, but it made him biased. Every time I said I felt anything towards Sash, everybody told me to man up because I fucked up, even my mother. I didn’t want to keep on being judged. I wanted somebody to tell me it was okay and I was working on it and doing my best. I wanted somebody to tell me that she loved me to and to keep hope alive. Trace couldn’t and wouldn’t do that because he doesn’t understand me, for once in my entire life. I never felt so damn alone.

“Yeah, man… I’m fine,” I answered weakly, “I gotta go though - getting prepped to stalk is a lot of work.”

Trace did one of his ‘you’re-full-of-shit-and-I-disapprove’ grunts and I rolled my eyes.  “Call you later to let you know how it goes?”

“Yes, much later,” Trace complained, “It’s 8:34 in the morning, man. I should kick you in the balls for calling so early.”

“Sorry, I forget about the time zones when I’m stressed. My mind isn’t clear.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Trace yawned into the line, “Call me tonight.”

“Sure,” I promised before we said our goodbyes. I stared at my phone, a part of me wanting to call him back and tell him I wasn’t okay at all, but I resisted the urge, reminding myself that he wouldn’t
understand. I was the enemy and forever would be.

---------------------------------------------

My ass was getting so numb from being in the same spot for an hour since I crawled my way out of the back seat of my truck. I had taken a much needed nap three hours into my stake out. The sun had set during my rest and I woke to a dark neighborhood – Sash’s dark neighborhood.

Her car was parked where it had been when I first arrived at her door this afternoon. Rather, the Lexus I bought her was still parked where it had been when I first arrived… At least she kept the car. It looked all shiny and new, so she was keeping up with it too. I smiled when I saw that, feeling like she was holding onto me or something; keeping me shiny and new in her mind, but that was stupid. How do I know?

Because I ran up her front steps, thinking she was home since her car was there. Can you imagine my disappointment when I stood outside her door, banging and ringing the bell like a crazed manic until some neighbor across the street told me she wasn’t home. I apologized for the raucous and the older woman just grunted and slammed her door shut, mumbling something along the lines of ‘crazy white boy’. Was it weird that it made me smirk ‘cause it reminded me of Sash’s ‘Casper’ and ‘white boy’ days when we first met?

God, I was pathetic, I realized after that moment. I was also an idiot for not asking where Sash had gone and with who if she had no car, but I wasn’t crazy enough to knock on that woman’s door and bother her for information. I accepted it for what it was, got back into my truck, and blew Sash’s phone up. Nothing, of course, but I didn’t leave any voicemails asking her to call me back – no, I would just wait.

And waiting is all I’ve been doing. I was starving though. I had grabbed a subway sandwich and bags of chips, water bottles, and a Snapple before I settled earlier, but I had eaten the last of my Flaming Hot Cheetos and my Apple Snapple was running low. It was nearly 10:30 at night. Where the hell was she at for over eight hours? Was something wrong with the car and she couldn’t drive it to work? That wouldn’t make any sense because it was brand spankin’ new and I’d buy her a new one if she had mentioned it…

Then again, maybe that was the problem. Or maybe she’s so mad at me, for whatever reason, that she would catch the bus instead of driving the car?

That would be so ridiculous, but so Sasheirah. Her stubbornness was unyielding.

I reached over to hit on my overhead light so I could see if I had any cookies in my glove compartment, but headlights lit up her one-way street, blinding me as I checked my rearview to see what idiot had their beamer lights on. The car passed by where I was parked across the street from Sash’s place. The car with the Jesus lights ended up being a Camry, older and some light color that looked orangey in the street light. It slowed to a stop in the middle of the street, right next to Sash’s car. I jumped up in my seat, clicking off the light, and leaning down quickly for a better look. I hit my chin against the leather steering wheel in the mist of my excitement, but I ignored it, moving up. My eyes narrowed, trying to catch the face of the male figure that emerged from the car, taller than me it seemed; maybe by an inch or two exceeding my height. He was casually dressed, but was still all in a button up that looked too uncomfortable to be wearing on such a spring night.

He made his way around the front of his running vehicle, jogging almost too quickly for me to catch his face in the glare of his headlights. Almost. The moment I caught a glimpse of that face, my gut lurched forward and my heart dropped to my stomach – it was that godforsaken supermarket guy! Dan? David?
Darnell? What the hell was his name?

“Oh wow, how chivalrous.” My anger ceased when her laughter floated through my rolled down windows – her lively voice making my stomach quiver in that longing way that makes me queasy. Then there was her silhouette as supermarket guy took her hand and guided her out of the passenger side door. My eyes couldn’t see her now in complete detail, but I could make up the bushel of light curls on her head. The glow of her skin in the street lights as well as the white of her spring dress, covered up by a light colored cardigan that fit her nicely, was almost too much. Damn, she was so beautiful.

And then that supermarket freak leant down and placed his undeserving lips to her hand, kissing her knuckles and making her giggle in a way I haven’t heard since… Well, since I kissed her knuckles or cheeks or the spot behind her ear that smells really good because she always dabbed a bit of perfume behind there…

But he didn’t know that. He didn’t know shit and he got to kiss her got damn knuckles? Eight hours and this is what I see? Sash, with supermarket man, all dressed up like she – Wait… hold the fuck up.

“Did you enjoy yourself?” I leaned closer to my window, but ducked down a bit to catch the conversation.

“I’m surprised I did,” Sash said softly. His car was still running, so at least I knew he wasn’t going to stay, but this lingering conversation – “I didn’t think I’d like sushi that much, but I think I’ll be having it again.” I gasped – Sushi?! Sash practically ate her chicken charred just to make sure it was fully cooked and now she’s eating sushi? What the hell happened in the last month? Where the hell did he even come from? And why is he feeding her sushi? Fish had mercury and that’s bad for babies! Doesn’t he know she’s pregnant? I mean, he has to know. I can see her baby belly from here! He knew she was pregnant and he gave her mercury filled fish! He’s trying to kill my baby, I know he is! That evil son of a –

“Well, next time you want to go, you know who to call,” he said, “Anytime.” His hand drew up to caress along her cheek and my jaw dropped when she didn’t reach up to slap it away. She actually giggled. Giggled and looked away like some virginal fucking school girl. I wanted to take my eyes out. I wanted to go blind and deaf and have my memory the fuck erased.

“Thank you for tonight,” Sash seemed to mumble, but I couldn’t make it out. She was talking so softly now and even in the dark, I could see that spark in his eyes as he stared down at her. I knew that look. I’ve given that look a million times. He was going to kiss her and she was staring him in the eyes and seeing it too.

Move, Sash! Move! I wanted to scream, Slap him and run! But it was of no use because he was licking his lips like some predator, ready to feed, but no, Edward Cullen, with your goo-goo eyes, you will not be making my Sash your Bella Swan! I jumped out of the truck, slamming my door so hard that they both jumped and looked back in my direction.

Sash gave me the deer in headlights look as I stomped over and Dillon just stared, contorting his stupid face in confusion.

“Do you know how long I’ve been sitting out here?” I ranted, my chest heaving with a swell of emotion so overwhelming that I couldn’t begin to think of a way to relax. I just wanted to punch the shit out of supermarket boy. I wanted to burst into tears and ask Sash why. I wanted to be in my room, alone and away from this bullshit.

“You’ve been waiting for me?” Sash asked, having the nerves to sound surprised.

“Maybe if you answered my fuckin’ calls, I wouldn’t have to do this shit!” I spat, shooting a glare Darnell’s direction, “Is this fucker the reason why you can’t answer your phone?”

“Fucker?” supermarket boy asked, “Who is this guy?”

“I’m her baby’s father, that’s who the fuck I am!” I shouted before Sash got the chance. He actually looked shocked. “What? You don’t see that fucking belly? What did you think? She was storing basketballs or some shit?”

“I knew she was pregnant,” Dane said and I almost threw up in my mouth.

“You’re honestly messing with somebody who’s pregnant?” I criticized. This man was sick and twisted,

“You’re disgusting. That’s just fucked up, man.”

“I’m sorry that you feel like pregnant women are so fucking disgusting, Justin, that’s good to know,” Sash growled, “You really need to go.” I whipped my eyes to hers and I could see the hurt that was not my intention.

“That’s not what I meant, Sash,” I said more angrily than before, “You know you’re beautiful –“

“Justin, please go,” Sash scoffed, waving me off. My blood boiled because supermarket boy was winning.

She wasn’t trying to have me here and that was bullshit.

“No, he needs to go,” I said, jabbing my finger in his direction to emphasize my point, “…because you owe me a fucking explanation.”

“I don’t owe you shit,” she said with a final glare that made me want to back off. I didn’t want to make her so angry now that nothing worked out later, but this was all fucked up.

“Do you need me to call the cops or something?” Donnell asked softly like I wasn’t standing two got damn feet from him, “This dude is deranged –“

“Deranged? I’m about to fucking show you deranged you motherfu-“ I right in his face in a flash, shoving him back into a parked car. I had never felt this rushed in my life. I couldn’t concentrate. I just wanted to hit him.

“Justin what the fuck are you doin’?! Don’t push him!” Sash shouted, pushing me back from where I had somehow wedged supermarket boy between myself and an unknown car. She pushed me back until I had nearly stumbled back. “You need to shut the fuck up and go! Right the fuck now!”

“I gotta shut the fuck up? I gotta go?” I asked in complete disbelief, “You drive me the fuck crazy for the last got damn month, ignoring me and shit and that’s something I gotta just suck up so you and Derek can have your fancy little sushi dates!” I grabbed her wrists to keep her from pushing me any further when she reached out to me. I ignored the shock of her skin against my palms.

“First off, his damn name is Damon! Secondly, why are you all in my conversation? I can go out if I want to. You and I are not together!” She yanked her wrists from my grip, shoving me back another step, “Third of all, don’t ever put your fucking hands on me like that again.” I scoffed, disregarding her last message.

“Look you can go wherever you want after my baby is born because that child is mine and I have a say in who’s around her and where she’s going!” Sash’s dark eyes locked on mine and I saw the fiery on the surface, but something else until she closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

“Should I… go?” came Damon’s stupid voice from a few feet away. I immediately encouraged his thoughts.

“Yes, please ride the fuck off to wherever you belong to –“

“No, Damon, you stay,” Sash said, turning to face him before slowly turning her gaze back to me, “You go.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” I said, putting my foot down. Sash tried to grill me with her eyes, but I wouldn’t be moved. I was actually right this time and she wasn’t going to get me to go without an explanation.

“Just call me, Sash, when you work this out,” Damon called, already making his way to the driver’s seat.

Punk ass.

“No, Damon, wait,” Sash called, running off like some whipped dumbass and I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. She never chased after me, I thought, feeling my anger bubble over. I stomped down to where my truck was parked and kicked the tire. I imagined it was Damon’s fucking face.

“It’s okay,” I heard him laugh before I glanced up, saw him place a kiss on her cheek, and shut his door when she stepped aside. He rode off and she watched for a moment before turning back to me. I stared at her, beneath the streetlight. Her face was solid, void of emotion, but her eyes... Even in dark with the distance, her eyes were saying so much I couldn’t understand, and before I could get a grip, she turned and started making her way to her house. I felt my fleeting moment and I jogged to catch up, barely reaching her before she got to the door.

“Sash! I called, knowing it wouldn’t stop her. Her house keys were jingling violently as she angrily searched for the main key.

“Justin, stay the fuck away from me,” she grumbled, dropping her keys and groaning as she picked them up too quickly for me to get them first. I was standing a respectful distance, but her perfume was wafting, but it was tainted with the smell of his cologne; with the essence of his being in general… It made me sick.

“I’ve been staying away from you for the last month now,” I reminded meekly, “Actually, you’ve been staying away from me.”

“You need to go,” Sash said, finally getting the key and opening the door. I hurried behind her, but she turned on the step, making me skid to a stop because I crashed into her back. I stepped back to see her face and her eyes seemed to have burst with a never ending stream of tears. I was so shocked by the sudden appearance of her emotions that I didn’t move despite the tugging in my gut to hug her. “Justin?” Her voice was as broken as her appearance. Maybe it was just the hormones? I hoped it was just the hormones.

“Yes?” I answered immediately. She wiped her tear stained cheeks and sniffled.

“Can you do something for me?” she asked.

“Anything,” I answered again, without hesitation – Anything to get her to stop crying.

“Go home tonight –“

 “Anything but that,” I interjected. I felt anger rise, considering that those might’ve been crocodile tears. Sash never did anything like that before, but I still held my ground. “Sash, you owe me –“

“I know, I know,” she interrupted, rolling her eyes, “I’ll call you tomorrow, I swear.” I looked her up and down. I couldn’t read her like this. Too many emotions were going around, but the fact that she hasn’t called me in a month, despite my stalker attempts to contact her, leave me a little doubtful to say the least.

Sash saw my hesitation and she rolled her eyes again. “Justin, I just swore.”

“I want it in writing,” I said and she smacked her lips. I raised a brow because I wasn’t joking.

“Justin, I said I will and I will,” she assured, “We can talk about this later. I just can’t tonight.” I wanted to tell her okay, but damn it, she had a month to not talk about it, and I was losing sleep trying to figure it all out. That wasn’t fair.

“I’m sorry; I can’t wait any longer for this. I need to know what’s going on,” I said calmly. I was telling Sash no to something she asked for and that never went well, but I needed to be respected too, at least because she was carrying my child and her well-being directly affected that said child… And also because I really just wanted to know what the hell the problem was.

Sash rolled her drying eyes and walked her way into the house, turning on the lamps and other lighting as she went along. I stopped walking after I shut the door behind me. Bob meowed and I spotted him coming from the kitchen towards me. At least somebody missed me.

“Sasheirah, I’ll leave as soon as you tell me what’s up,” I assured, but my voice was getting whiny because I didn’t want to leave. I was scared I’d never see her again if I did. “I don’t understand why this happened…”

“We’re not having this conversation,” she said over her shoulder as she continued on towards the kitchen.

I groaned. Why couldn’t we have this conversation when it was the only reason why I’ve been stalker her and the only reason why I followed her into her house in the first place?

I felt a brush against my leg and I bent down to quickly rub Bob’s head and behind his ears. He purred instantly, but I hurried after Sash’s form as she disappeared into the kitchen. Her eyes rolled like she wasn’t expecting me to follow when she turned and leant against the sink counter, arms crossed over her chest.

I took notice of the way her breasts pillowed over the v-cut of her dress. Her cardigan, I now discovered, was lavender. Her makeup matched with it, at least the eyeshade.  Her lips were glossed with tinted lip stuff and her skin was airbrushed with foundation. I had never seen Sash with so much makeup on. She even used some blush. She looked beautiful, but in a way that wasn’t quite Sash. I was so surprised. What had happened in such a short amount of time that I didn’t know who she was anymore?

“I wish you’d stop staring at me like that,” Sash said, taking me out of my trance.

“You’re wearing makeup,” I said, stupidly. I could see her face contort with a moment of regret. She self-consciously glanced at the floor.

“Everybody wears makeup,” she said, shrugging. “I bet you’ve had your fair share.” I felt the blood in my cheeks warm. All I could think was ‘I bet Damon never wore makeup’.

“Only for publicity stuff…like magazines, and it wasn’t a choice,” I defended weakly, “It looks good… but it’s just different.”

“Whatever, Justin,” Sash sighed, “We’ve already established that I’m disgusting because I’m pregnant –“

“That’s not what I meant and you know that,” I said, stepping up even though we were still halfway across the room from each other. Sash got stiff regardless and I shook my head. I could never understand how someone who knew me so well, and who I knew in return, could doubt the way I feel, despite the misinterpreted things that come out of my mouth. “You’re so beautiful, Sash…Makeup or no makeup, baby or no baby… I just meant that he was sick for dating you at such a vulnerable time in your life –“

“I’m not vulnerable, Justin,” Sash said, shrugging, “I’m perfectly capable of having sex without getting emotionally involved.” My entire world seemed to stop and I could practically hear my heart tumbling into a bed of acid.

“Sex?” I croaked out, “You’re… him… You and him?” He saw her naked? He touched her baby bump?
He kissed her? He put his… in her…

“Why not?” Sash asked, shrugging again like it wasn’t a big deal that some scumbag touched her maternal body, “I’m single. You’re single…You do whatever and whoever you want so why can’t –“

“Do who?” I asked immediately. I felt a rush of panic and frustration, “Sash, you’re the only person that I want!” I felt my stomach swelling up again with this intense need to vomit. The idea of being with another woman made me as sick as the idea of Sash and that supermarket freak of nature.

“You’re so full of shit, Justin,” Sash complained, “You can’t seriously take me for that big of a fool.” I closed my eyes and shook my head to try and organize my thoughts, but nothing she said was making any sense.

“What are you talking about?” I asked, “Really, I’m lost.”

“Whatever,” Sash scoffed, “I’m not playing this game of ‘I’m innocent’ with you, okay? You have your friends and I’ll have mine.”

“Damon is not a friend, Sash! Damon wants to screw you. After you have this baby, he’s probably looking to knock you up with another one!”

“Oh you should talk, Justin! You’re the one who knocked me up first!”

“That was not knocking up, okay? You and I made love and slipped up a bit, but we’re going to have a beautiful baby girl in our hands in less than five months,” I said, realizing that I was nearly a daddy in a more physical sense. “I’m not some random guy out of the supermarket who wants to bang you.”

“Of course you aren’t that guy for me, but what about that other – You know what? Why are we even doing this? I’m tired –“I raised my hand to silence her. Other what? I wondered because I couldn’t remember who the last woman I spoke to outside of family and the lady in the lobby of my apartment building could’ve been. I wondered who could’ve given her the impression that there was somebody else.

“Now wait a minute, who the hell are you talking about? What other what?” I asked, trying to catch her eyes, but she was looking at everything but me. She took a deep breath and shrugged.

“I dunno, I was just rambling…” she lied and I was ready to call her on her shit so badly, but something made me take a more sensitive approach. She obviously thought I was living up my single life for some reason.

“Do you think I’m dating someone?” I asked gently, “’Cause I’m really not.”

“I guess ‘dating’ wouldn’t be the appropriate word…” Sash mumbled off, confusing me further. “Not that it matters. Like I said, we’re two single adults-“

“Don’t give me that shit,” I disregarded, hating the word single more than I ever have before. Sash’s eyes locked on mine for a moment longer than it she probably intended when I cussed. For a brief second she gave me the ‘who-the-hell-are-you-talking-to-look’, but it fell from her face and I saw so much sadness in her eyes. She was embarrassed too, I could tell by the way she glanced away and sucked her teeth, putting up another of her ‘I-don’t-care-fronts.

“It’s not shit,” she defended weakly; “We aren’t together.”

Whose fault is that? I wanted to ask, but I knew better than to keep her cornered by badgering. “Just tell me what the problem is,” I said, “You obviously think I’m doing something with someone for some reason and I’m not getting it. Besides, aren’t you the one who said we needed to mind each other’s business?”

“No, I told you not to mind my business,” Sash shot back, making me roll my eyes at her twisted double standards, “Besides, like I said, it’s nothing.” I wanted to know more than ever now and all her hesitation was making it that much more valuable. I took several steps towards her and she was too busy staring at the floor to notice. I took my chances moving up until she slowly raised her head when I was close enough to stretch my arms out and touch her. I opted not to, but I did pull out a chair from her kitchen table behind me and took a seat on it. I gestured my head toward the seat across from me and she unfolded her arms and followed suit, taking a seat as well.

I waited a moment as she settled in her seat, but she still wouldn’t speak. “What’s up?” I tried to ask, but she just shrugged. I wasn’t the most patient man, which was starting to show as I took a deep breath.
Was the suspense necessary? “Sash, you’re killing me here…” She seemed to take note of the agony in my voice, shifting uncomfortably. I waited for what felt like twenty years of silence before shrugged, biting down on her full bottom lip. Damn, I missed those lips and Damon had those got damn lips… My heart was aching.

“I feel so stupid, man,” Sash sighed suddenly, seeming exasperated. I sat up in my seat and instinctively reached across the table to rest my palm on top of her folded hands, but I thought better of it and played with the salt shaker instead. The salt was cool metal and glass against my hand, not warm skin with too many damn memories.

“It can’t be that dumb,” I tried to comfort, “I mean, it kept you out of my life for a month…” It better not be dumb, is what I wanted to say because sleepless nights weren’t worth something petty.

“I’m just going to say it,” Sash said, taking a deep breath. I was trying to catch her eyes but she was staring at the salt shaker as I slid it across the table from palm to palm like a hockey puck. I waited for her to just say it, but there was more noise coming from the gentle scraping of the shaker against the oak table than from her.

“Do I need to get a pillow or something? Is it going to be a long night?” I said smartly, trying to make her crack a smile, but she nearly cracked my teeth instead, reaching up to grab the salt mid-slide. She slammed it down on the table beside the pepper and the ketchup where it had been before, but still wasn’t looking at me.

“I…” she started and I leaned over with anxious ears, “Look, I know I was wrong and I got what I deserved, but you’re still wrong here for lying to me –“

“What are you –“

“Shut up, let me finish,” Sash interrupted, not making a lick of sense so far. How the hell did I lie? “Do you remember when I spent the night at your place?”

“Of course I remember the time and place of the crime,” I said and Sash smacked her lips. I made a note to stop cracking jokes.

“Well, when you went out for a run… I guess somebody called or something while I was getting ready to go…And so I don’t know why I bothered with it… but I saw you had a message on your answering machine…”

“Uh huh…” I said, already seeing her guilt. I felt my chest swelling up because so far, I was in the clear, but at the same time, I was checking my memory for what it could’ve been. I had been on my best behavior. Besides, nobody had my new apartment number other than family…unless Rachel’s dumbass gave Jessica my number… then again, what message? I checked that thing the other day and there was nothing but business crap and Trace… One or two were from my Mama when I wasn’t answering my cell…

“Okay, well… There was a brief… message… from somebody…” Sash slowly confessed, making things ten times worst with her sluggish pace.

“Somebody like who?” I asked, but she was still hesitating.

“It was just some woman, Justin! How am I supposed to know?” Sash snapped, pushing away from the table.

“Now hold on,” I said, popping out of my seat. She was standing, but she hadn’t walked off yet. I raised my hands up in surrender. I needed to show her I wasn’t trying to argue, but I was in need of a clearer explanation. “What woman? I know a lot of women.” As soon as the words left my mouth, I wanted to kick myself. Sash looked momentarily mortified before composing herself.

“That’s wonderful,” she said sarcastically, “Keep it up, Justin.”

“You know what I meant,” I said, making her roll her eyes, “Just tell me what she said.”

“She said she wanted to fuck you, Justin,” Sash said bitterly and my gut lurched because that’s the last thing I was expecting, “You know what’s crazy though? You almost had me convinced that I was it for you and then you have voicemails from Latin women calling you out ‘cause they miss you, or rather parts of you, so damn much. Didn’t you just get that apartment? You couldn’t wait to hand that number out.”
I was straining to comprehend what was being said. I didn’t understand why she checking my voicemail nor was I understanding how she could go out with Damon for God knows how long and be mad at me because non-existent Latin women are leaving me voicemails. What happened to be being single? Furthermore, what message? There were no crazy sex-driven messages on my answering machine. She was probably bullshitting to distract me from the real cause of her disappearance, namely Damon DeSupermarket. Well, I’ll be damned Sash!

“Number one, I don’t even know crazy Latin women trying to get into my pants, despite what you might think of me. Numero dos, why are you checking my voicemails? Number three, I thought we were single, Sash. Isn’t that what you told that stupid Damon guy? Furthermore, I don’t have any unheard messages on that machine, so I don’t even know what you’re –“

“I deleted it, Justin! If you were in my position, would you leave that message there?”

“Sash, I would never be in your position because I couldn’t violate your privacy like that. I would trust your word that you weren’t seeing anybody! At least before tonight anyway because Damon sure as hell was a nobody last time I checked and now he’s dropping you off in the middle of the night –“

“I thought you were seeing another woman, Justin. I was just trying to get back at you… I dunno…” Sash said, gesturing with her hands in a chaotic motion that probably matched what was going on in both our heads. I would never understand this woman. First she doesn’t want me and then she kisses me and then she hates me and now she’s dating guys to make me jealous…

“Sash, this is crazy,” I sighed, “What is it that you want? You can’t check up on me behind my back to see who I’m with or not with, for that matter, and then talk all this shit about being single, but dating because you’re mad and then doing immature shit like avoiding me because you’re wrong and obviously hurt –“ Sash groaned.

“I really don’t want to discuss this anymore,” she said with a trembling voice. I saw the waterworks gleaming in her eyes as she tapped her sandaled foot against the kitchen tile, “You have the reason and now you can go, Justin.” I felt a rush of frustration shoot up in my chest as I slammed my fist against the table. Sash jumped like the condiments that tipped over from the force and clashed in a way that brought on the silence. No more foot tapping, even the street seemed more hushed. Just our breathing sounds for a moment, mines heavier than hers as I tried to get my thoughts together because I couldn’t do this back and forth shit anymore.

“Sash, I know I’m a lot of things and I’ve fucked up, but you are far from perfect and your major flaw is your inability to express yourself honestly unless it’s about something dumb like the way I chew or what you hate about co-workers’ work ethics something basis. When it comes to how you feel…how you feel about me, in particular, you’re loaded with b.s. and to be frank, it’s irritating.” Sash was silent and I couldn’t tell if that was a good or bad thing. She had a habit of shutting down when shit was getting too honest and it annoyed me further. It was clawing at a brick wall with her.

“Anyway… “ I continued after the silence, “I love you, you know I do, and for a brief moment I was hesitant about those feelings when we first got involved because there was so much going on, but since it’s been just you and me, I’ve been very clear about my feelings, even after all the bullshit, even after this stupid, unnecessary time apart, and your childish antics…” I waited for her to attack my ridicule, but she was still staring at the floor, biting her lip. I knew she was listening, accepting every word, “Even after this, I still want you and all your craziness because I want us and I know you want us too or you wouldn’t be so irrational at times…but you won’t admit it. You push me away and I can understand, but Sash, you’re denying me completely. Your saying all these hurtful things instead of just being honest, saying that you’re hurt, but you want us back together or that you don’t want me to see anybody else – not that I am – I just want you to say it though. Say how you want me and love me too and no bury it to the point where I sometimes believe you’re over me, despite the fact that I know better.

“I just want you to tell me I’m not crazy and when this baby comes, you want a family and you want me around and you need me as much as I need you. I have to hear you say it or I don’t know if I can do this. I don’t know if I can wait around for you knowing that you’ll forever be beating around the bush and making me walk on eggshells for the rest of my life. I’m not asking you for your forgiveness right now, but I am asking you for your honest opinion on our future…and whether or not we have one so I can know what to do,” I took a deep breath, feeling like I was rambling a million emotions at once, “I hope that made sense.”

Sash nodded, licking her lips and wiping away some silent tears. “Is that something I have to answer tonight?” Her voice was light and trembling.

“I can let you sleep on it,” I offered, knowing that the anticipation of even one night was going to be painful.

“Is this an ultimatum?” Sash asked, laughing without humor. I hadn’t thought of it that way, but as I piled up her faults against my love for her – pros and cons – I was starting to see it as that. I really needed to know. I couldn’t keep having Damon-like guys come along every time she thought I was seeing someone in my so-called single lifestyle. I couldn’t deal with her disappearing, criticizing, and constantly reminding me of my mistake, big as it was.

“I guess so,” I shrugged before realizing she wouldn’t take that very seriously. I cleared my throat and stood up straighter, “Yes, it is an ultimatum.”

“And if I choose you, what happens?”

“We keep working on us,” I explained, “I’ll love you for the rest of my life and I’ll make sure you have any and everything, including a newfound trust in me. And absolutely no more contact with Damon or mysterious Latin women.”

“And if I don’t choose you?” Sash inquired, making my gut shake.

“Then… We both move on with our lives without consequence. No dating out of jealous, but at a real chance at something. I’ll still be a great father and I’ll give you want you need… for the baby. We split up holidays and weekends…The whole divorce type thing…Maybe we’ll eventually be friends or something? I don’t really know…”

Sash nodded, taking it in as I processed my thoughts. If she didn’t choose me, I’d have to let her go. I’d have to find a way to stop loving her and be able to date… The whole idea of trying to find somebody else seemed ridiculous. The whole idea of us being friends seemed even more implausible. I could never deny my feelings for Sash or feel that electric with somebody else.

“Okay,” Sash said after a moment of silence, “Tomorrow then.” I nodded staring at her until she looked up at me with glossy eyes. “I guess you should be going.” There was a sharp sting of rejection and I felt the urge to take it back and accept all her crazy, but I was already making my way out of the kitchen before I even thought about moving. By the time I reached the door, I realized Sash had stayed back in the kitchen. Bob meowed at my feet as I trailed towards the door, a weight on me, pushing down. I bent over and gave Bob a rub that he arched his soft furred back into, purring perfectly. I thought about how much he seemed to miss me and pathetically hoped Sash would take that into consideration as I unlocked the door and went out onto the step, shooing him back inside as he tried to follow me out.

Right as I turned to pull the door close, I heard the unmistakable sob escape Sash’s throat. An instant burning shot through my eyes because I felt that pain ripping right through her. I was guilty. She tried to love before and it went horribly wrong, costing her two of the most important people in her life. Then she tried to love me, but in a stupid attempt to forget the pain of losing her, only to find I hadn’t lost her at all, I fucked her over again by fucking somebody else.

 I only added to the craziness that was going on. I caused those thicker walls to form and it felt so wrong for me get frustrated because I couldn’t knock them down this time. I had no right to give her an ultimatum, but it seemed like the only way to see where she actually stood with me. It was selfish and I hated myself enough to want to take it back and tell her she deserved better, but the thought of Sash with Damon or anybody else didn’t feel right…but a part of me knew she wouldn’t choose me. A part of me knew that this was all over and that I was a fool for thinking she’d go for it. That she’d take me as the unworthy asshole I was now seen as.

I pulled the door shut behind me, gently closing it so she wouldn’t know I was still there, listening to a private cry. I felt oddly perverse for doing so, like some sort of peeping tom. I barely made it to my car before tears were falling from my eyes because I love her and I lost her and because of everything in-between.

Whether or not I wanted a future with Justin was a lot to fucking sleep on. A large part of me was hella pissed that he had made such an ultimatum... But a smaller, feebler minded punk ass side of me thought he was right for putting his foot down and forcing me to answer questions I avoided through words and actions: Did I want a future with him? Could I forgive him and move on? Did I want a family life with him or was the divorce-like home life what I wanted to give my baby girl?

Those were fair questions that were unfairly left unanswered, however were understandably difficult to answer. I mean, I don't get me wrong, if the question was whether or not I loved him, that could be answered with minor hesitation - yes, of course I love him, but love wasn't always enough. I knew that better than anyone. My mother loved my father, but he's not around. I love my mother, but I can't be with her for more than twenty minutes without her irritating my soul. Hell, I even loved myself and even I got on my own damn nerves, especially now that I had all these Justin issues.

I wish I were single again. I didn't fight with myself this much. Bob wasn't smothered by my excessive affection and drama.... I wasn't pregnant with a child I was terrified of raising because I couldn't even be enough of a woman to deal with Justin after a stupid phone call from some random hooker... I wasted an entire month when I had so much baby stuff to get off my list... That included a half-ass nursery, doctor visits, a baby shower, and shopping - lots and lots of shopping.

I thought about all that shit and I barely slept, which worried me further for the baby. I was exhausted, emotionally drained, but decided. He wanted his damn answer, so I was going to give him one today. See, my decision took all night to make, but now that it's done, the waiting to say it was the most torturous part. I didn't want to over think on how I'd break things down to him... That would just make me re-think my decision, which would not be good. I'm pushing all of it out of my head until he gets here, which is any minute now.

I was having OCD overload in the meantime. Suddenly every place mat, paper towel roll, and dish was out of place in the kitchen. I re-fluffed the pillows on the sofa a million times. I was rubbing my belly three times clockwise and twice counter-clockwise before I feared the motion would make Sash Junior dizzy and stopped. After I Swifered the hardwood and kitchen floors, I sat on the couch and watched a re-run of Wendy William's show. The show had Jimmy Fallon on it, doing his best 'How you doin'?' Wendy impression. I smirked at the screen, never quite understanding the catch phrase before my doorbell sounded and a knock followed part way through.

I felt a jolt up my chest. Only Justin would be that anxious, I thought, as I turned off the television and slowly rose from the couch. My oversized, off shoulder top was a burnt orange that Justin once said looked good on my skin. The black tights I wore were starting to feel like the only things that got over my belly, and the beaded black sandals I wore were decorated with bronze, orange, and brown stones. I don't know why I dressed at all. It wouldn't make a difference, I thought, as I touched the doorknob and reached for the lock and latch, quickly undoing them.

The door squeaked a little as I slowly pulled it open, revealing Justin on the other side. I caught his quick scan of my body and I involuntarily trembled beneath his gaze before I took him in as well. His white and blue Jordans adorned his feet, black skinnies hugged against his knobby knees, and the electric blue t-shirt he wore was plain, but pocketed, and matched his Jordan's perfectly. Not only did it match, but when I reached his soft face, lined with stubble, his eyes popped with blue, even behind his dark framed glasses. He smirked uncomfortably and I realized I had taken him in a moment too long to deny it.

"Hey..." I mumbled to his Jordans, dropping my gaze in a fit of shyness.

"Hi..." he mumbled too. I backed from the doorway and gestured toward the living room, looking up as he moved inside. I locked the door behind him, taking a deep breath before turning around to face him. I needed to calm down; it was only Justin, I thought. I couldn't help but smile a bit when I finally laid my eyes on him. Of course he was too preoccupied with Bob to notice, rubbing him down and making him purr. I was beginning to think Bob was gay and had a thing for Justin, who was apparently so charming that he seduced males outside his own species.

"You hungry?" I asked, reverting back to the hostess role that didn't require any emotion. I felt a swelling in my chest. I just wanted to blurt it out and get it over with.

"Nah... I can't really think about eating right now," Justin answered with a nervous laugh as he stood up straight, rubbing fur from his hands. "To be honest, I'm so anxious I'm afraid I'll puke." I wrinkled my nose instinctively. Even Justin Timberlake couldn't make vomiting sexy.

"That's a lovely visual," I joked and he blushed, shrugging and taking a seat on my sofa. I watched as he thoughtfully ran his hand along the empty cushion beside him like he was going to miss it or like he hadn't seen it in a while. I frowned, feeling guilty for either thought.

"I found out who that girl was," Justin said suddenly, snapping me back into the present. My stomach tightened and I felt stupid all over again.

"That's not important," I said, not wanting to go back to the source of my embarrassing behavior.

"It was important enough for a month of silence," he reminded me anyway, further embarrassing me, "Her name is Janelle...We had a...thing, for lack of a better word. I haven't spoken to her since I started dating Jessica, so she was the last person on my mind when you brought up the whole voicemail thing... Of course, I asked Rachel who it could've been and she admitted she gave Janelle my new number to help 'cheer me up' since I've been so down lately. I told her she made things worst and gave her a thorough speech on why she needs to mind her own damn business, so it's safe to say that will never happen again."

I felt even stupider because he spent twenty-four hours trying to find some mystery chick. I even felt bad for Rachel. Despite the fact that she hated my guts, I managed to not let that feeling be mutual. She had the best intentions for Justin and I couldn't hold it against her for caring. "I really wish you didn't bother with doing all that. It was none of my business and Rach was just trying-"

"You don't have to apologize, Sash," Justin interrupted, turning his vision from the sofa to me. His eyes were fierce with sincerity. "I would've probably done the same thing... Minus the avoiding you for a month reaction. I tend to run towards confrontation whereas you run away from it, hence the whole Damon thing... Sorry about that, by the way."

"It's okay..." I mumbled, looking at my hands bashfully. "We're so different, but the same. We're both crazy, that's for sure." I laughed, as did he, but I was really starting to believe we've both lost our minds the moment we decided to fall in love.

"I can't argue with that," Justin said, his beautiful smile softening, "But I wouldn't change it, Sash. I wouldn't change a thing about all our crazy because I've never been more certain about where I want to be and who I need." I bit my bottom lip as I felt my heart crumbling, unable to withstand the sweetness of his words. I imagined my heart grew arms and was reaching for a hug, a tender embrace... I couldn't explain the need and the urgency.

"I didn't think about this answer... I mean, I thought, about it, but not how to say it..." I started before I realized what I was doing.

"That's okay, just say it," Justin said, searching my eyes for what I was feeling, but I was too twisted in my own head, so I was impossible to read. The glimmer in his eyes seemed to darken, like he saw my hesitation written all over my face. "It's okay, Sash... I can take whatever you have to say."

"I don't trust you, Justin," I said, my heart feeling heavy, "I don't believe you're really at Borders or Starbucks when you say you are... To be frank, watching you talk to your fans when we go out makes me nervous now... I don't know what I'd do if you promised to call at 9 and ended up calling at 9:01... And that's the worst part because before all this, I could trust how you felt about me. I could trust that you loved me completely, even when I tried to make myself doubt it, I knew...But now... Now I don't know what's okay anymore. Sometimes I feel like you're only trying to get me back and that's why you're trying so hard, and if I do take you back, you'll treat me like shit...and I'll be kicking myself for the rest of my life..."

"Sash, this is not an act -" Justin began, leaning forward in his seat with an earnest desperation.

"That's just...part of me," I interrupted, his voice being too much of a distraction from my train of thought, "Another side of me knows that you're the best thing that's ever happened to me. That same side knows that I love you more than I'd like to admit and that same side knows...that same side knows that I...actually...need you..." The words fell from my lips like molasses, slow and thick. I swallowed spit to coat my drying throat. I felt naked as his eyes seemed to widen in wonder.

"With that being said," I continued, hugging myself and looking away from his gaze because I felt myself recoiling from the vulnerability, "I'm telling you that I've never forgiven anybody who has hurt me and I'm also telling you that you've cut me deeper than anybody else that I've known because I opened myself up and..." I felt myself swallowing my words as a whimper caught in my throat. My eyes tingled as I glanced up at my ceiling, asking God to stop my damn tears, but I was so hurt still. I was so bottled up with my pain that I didn't know what to do with it now.

"I'm so sorry, Sash," Justin apologized, sounding as wounded as I felt. I looked back over at him and he was staring at the floor, shaking his head. I didn't realize what was happening until a wet spot appeared on the floor beneath him. For a moment I was confused before I realized his tears were falling. My feet reacted a lot quicker than my brain and I found myself beside him, his head on my shoulder as I sat up sideways.

I felt his breath against my neck as he sobbed his oversized shoulders harder to hug at this awkward angle. His tall frame curved to rest against me and the vibrations of his body as he sobbed was felt all around me as I stroked the base of his neck. I felt the stinging of my own tears and my heart was breaking from the sight of him.

"I know...I know I told you to choose, Sash; I know I told you to choose, but..." Justin stammered out on the verge of hysterics. He hugged me to him, nearly breaking my back in his grip. He rubbed his wet face in my neck and shoulder, breathing unevenly. My whole body ignited at his embrace and I nearly stopped breathing when his lips grazed my ear. "I cannot lose you, Sash. I can take it...I can take all the nonsense as long as you're around. I don't want you out of my life, please..."

I closed my eyes as I listened to his words. He was truly begging me to stay with him. He was crying and soaking my shoulder in tears. He was hugging me like he was clinging to dear life. He was so certain I'd leave...

"You sure about that?" I asked softly, feeling him nod against my shoulder as he sniffled a bit.

"I'm so sure," he promised, "I love you, Sasheirah...I love you so much..." I took the best deep breath that I could with him hugging me so tight and it came out sort of shaky. Hearing him say he loved me felt like the first time every time. I couldn't believe my ears and my heart couldn't stop pounding in my chest and breaking at the same time.

"I love you too..." I whispered, curving my head to rest my lips against his ear. I felt him tremble and sigh. "I love you and I want that to be enough..." My tears reached their brink and were streaking down my cheeks in liquid warmth.

"It is enough," he whimpered, holding me tighter, if that were possible. "Sash, it's more than enough."

"It wasn't enough to keep you from cheating," I whispered, my voice cracking because the memory still hurt. The thought of him all over her still hurt. "I cannot get over that part...Didn't you think about me? And why her? Of all the women in the world..."

"I was thinking about you the whole time," Justin said, pulling away from me enough to see my tear stained face. His cheeks were blotchy with red and his eyes were puffy and wet. I probably looked just as horrible. "I know it's hard to believe, but I wasn't thinking about Jessica; I was just...fucking. I know that sounds horrible, but that's what it was. Mindless sex... and escape from what I thought was the reality of losing you...But it was stupid...Inexcusable even..." I closed my eyes, hating the way her name fell from his lips, hating the images of sex in my head...

"The idea of you with somebody else makes me want to blow up the entire world," I voiced, knowing I sounded crazy, but not caring.

"You don't think I want to light Damon up with some gasoline and matches?" Justin said, making me roll my eyes. He was such an idiot if he thought I actually had sex with him. I didn't even want to see myself naked at this point, let alone show my body to somebody else.

"You're dumber than I thought, Timberlake," I sighed, "Do you honestly think I slept with Damon?"

"That's what you said," he argued meekly. Maybe I was better at lying than I thought.

"I was just trying to get under your skin," I admitted, "I thought you were sleeping with some random chick. How else was I supposed to make you suffer?" I couldn't help but smirk when he stared at me, looking all types of betrayed.

"I cannot believe..." he said before pausing, "Actually...I can. That sounds exactly like you." I shrugged, unable to argue.

"I don't want that to be me," I said, "I want to be able to tell you straight up that I don't ever want you to be with anybody else, but that's not fair."

"You don't even have to ask, Sash," he assured, brushing along the side of my jaw with the back of his hand. My skin warmed beneath his touch and a chill shot through me from his words.

"Everything...everything feels...good...with you..." I stammered out, reaching up to remove his hand from my jaw reluctantly, but it was distracting me. I held onto it though, my fingers gently tracing the patterned lines of his palm. I used to know the names of these lines from fake palm reading games...The life line, the money line, the love line... I couldn't tell which was which, but a part of me wanted to really know what was in his future.

"You know I feel the same about you," Justin cooed, placing his free hand over mine resting in his palm. The warmth of him all around brought tears to my eyes. It was weird to feel so much happiness and so much pain at the same time. They didn't even cancel each other out; one just intensified the other.

I turned my vision from my encapsulated hand and rested it on my lap...Well, more so my belly. My bump was round enough to start blocking my view. I stared at it, amazed that something was actually growing in me...that Justin and I created...

"We're having a baby," I announced, stating the obvious. Suddenly Justin's hand was on my belly, giving it a light caress over my orange top. Even through the fabric, I could feel the warmth.

"I've taken notice," he chuckled, "She's gonna be beautiful..."

"She's already beautiful," I argued, imaging a baby in a fetal position, resting in my womb. She didn't look much different from the ones I've seen in too many textbooks, but in my mind, she was mine and that made her so much more.

"I can't argue with that," Justin said softly. There was a silence. His hand returned to sandwich my hand still resting in his palm. My free hand rested on my belly and I looked up at him, my face tight with drying, salty tears. Justin was already looking at me, his eyes bright and innocent. He looked like he would burst at any moment and I knew he was waiting for a definite answer.

I swallowed down; my throat was getting dry again. Just say it, Sash! Just say it! Damn it, it was so much easier in my head when I was alone, imagining him there, but with him here, staring down on me like it was life or death...Shit was just too intense. I making or breaking my entire future with an overnight, overdue decision... I could feel the weight of a sleepless night resting on my shoulders.

I looked over his baby face; that innocent softness in his eyes... I wondered if I imagined he had hurt me because that face didn't look like it could hurt anything... But I felt that sharp ripping through my chest and I knew it was real. Behind all that innocence was a man who knew too much. A man who knew me, loved me, betrayed me, deceived me... A man who made me happy, whose child I was carrying, who bought a place across the country just to be closer to me... A millionaire who slept on my couch like it was a five star hotel... Bob loved him, I loved him...he loved me...

It was so surreal. In such a short amount of time, he changed my entire world. Part of me couldn't walk away from that...another part was halfway up the hill, running full speed in the opposite direction. If I choose him, I could wake up one morning, cheated again, feeling stupid because I had a choice and I chose wrong... If I didn't choose him, I'd wake up in the morning and realize I'll probably never be so open again because I could wake up one morning, cheated again, and feeling stupid anyway... Either way, I could end up the fool.

But there was one choice that guaranteed me something...

"Justin," I called and I don't know why, he wasn't the one zoning out. He blinked anyway, moving up closer to me on the couch. Our knees bumped though they were already brushing.

"Ye-yes?" he stammered, grabbing both my hands and squeezing them tightly. He wouldn't let me look down this time. He was searching my eyes and I was stuck on the shades of blue dancing around his pupils to bother looking away.

"With or without you, I could get hurt..." I told him, "I mean... you promised not to do it again, but you technically promised not to do it in the first place, so there's really not guarantee that you won't..."

"I'm telling you right now that I'd rather get castrated than do that to you," he said, making me wince as he laughed. "Yes, I love you that much." I sighed contently because he was dead serious behind his smile.

"As painful as that visual is, I appreciate your earnest words," I said, looking over his face, taking him in. The crooked hook of his nose and the subtle plumpness of his pink cheeks... "However, you only mean that now because nothing has happened yet. We can't predict the future, so who knows what could change your mind... I'm too scared to risk that, Justin...I'm too scared to be heartbroken like that again..." I saw the light fall from his face and his eyes instantly well with tears. He broke away from our eye contact, staring down at my belly or my chest, I wasn't sure.

"Sash, please...do not do this..." he pleaded.

I ignored him and went on. "I'm scared... I'm always too scared...You always pointed that out...I'm too scared to risk getting my heart broken again, but I'm not stupid enough to guarantee my own heartache...Choosing to be with you could lead to me being crushed, devastated, and just completely fucked up...But not choosing you will guarantee that I'd be unable to love for the rest of my life because nobody will compare to you..." Justin's eyes shot up, red and puffy and wet all over again. He sniffled and searched my eyes. For once, I was really open. I even smiled despite myself. I felt like a million pounds were pushed off my shoulders.

"Wait, what?" Justin asked, "Wh-what...does that...I mean..." His incoherence was humorous and I bit my bottom lip to stop from laughing.

"You are getting a second chance," I said more clearly. He blinked a few times and I waited. This was what he wanted and all he could do was stare at me. I felt my doubts creeping up on me. "You better say something before I change my mind." My threat was lined with humor, but before I could blank, I was embraced as tightly as I could be to his chest. My face smashed against his neck as he wrapped his strong arms over my shoulders. The light freshness of his t-shirt brought back memories of Matthew and I realized this was his natural scent. His expensive cologne wasn't masking his natural soapy skin smell and I melted right then and there.

"I fucking love you, Sash," Justin whispered over and over again, "I fucking love you..." It was slightly muffled since my ears were sandwiched between his neck and arms as he tangled me further in his embrace, but I heard him. I heard him so well that I managed to wiggle a bit to turn my head up and kiss the side of his neck sweetly.

"I fucking love you too," I mocked, and he laughed, vibrating all over me before it was swallowed up by a quiet sob in his throat. My eyes were moist instinctively, but I was still confused.

"Why are you crying?" I asked, "I'm starting to question your manhood." What I really wanted to say was 'Please stop crying because I can't spare anymore tears' but I used up my vulnerability quota for the day.

"Sash, you almost gave me a damn heart attack," he explained, squeezing me a little tighter, "I thought you were going to walk away from us."

"You should have a little more faith in me," I said softly, feeling guilty. I guess the buildup was sort of torturous.

"I do, I do..." he sighed, "I know how much I've fucked us up and I would've understood if you decided against us - not that I'm saying that you should've! You made the right choice because you can trust me, Sash. I'll get that back. I'll get us back, I promise." I took in his words, my stomach tightening at the notion of trust, but his fresh scent soothed me. I hugged him to me, not caring if I lost the ability to breathe.

"Enough of the heavy shit," I moaned out softly. My whole body felt like a warm marshmallow squished up against him. My mind was silent and my heart was pounding in my ears with a newfound excitement. "Just hold me..." I felt the warm-wetness of his lips against my forehead as he soothingly rubbed my back in tiny circles. Even Bob knew better than to meow as I tilted my head a bit and pressed my lips to his throat again, feeling the gentle quickness of his pulse. It matched the rhythm of his heart beating against my chest, through the cotton of my top, past the warmth of my skin, right in sync with my own... And, I could swear it, deep in the depth of my womb, Sasheirah Junior smiled.

I had a hard time getting a grip on this reality. If it weren't for the loud hum of her window air conditioner, I would've thought it was a dream. A really long dream, but a dream nonetheless.

Sash was knocked out, a sheet tangled around us because her small room cooled fast with the AC on. She was mumbling something as we spooned, and I hugged her closer, her hand resting over mine gave me a gently squeeze as she sighed. I nuzzled my face into the back of her neck, kissing her warm skin and taking in her sweet scent. Her hair smelled good, even beneath the hair wrap she put on. She used some pink lotion hair stuff before bed, something to 'moisturize' this or that. I wasn't really paying attention. I was fascinated just watching her wrapping up her hair like that before bed. I was intrigued by the way she slipped into the bed beside me in just a tank and pajama shorts, tugging at her tank to cover up her baby bump.

God, she was beautiful and as I bowed my head and kissed along her shoulders, my heart swelled knowing she was mine again. I could wake up to this every moment of forever and there was nothing better to ask for. I still couldn't believe that shit. She actually took me back. She actually wants a future and she didn't sleep with that Damon prick. Oh, he was going to be so sad when he got the news. Although it's been a week and Sash has yet to mention him despite the fact that I have been here every day since she took a chance on us again.

I would never fuck up again because I don't think I'm strong enough to survive another fight experience like that. I missed her too much. She felt too good in my arms. I slept too peacefully here to ever want to go back to sleeping alone.

Don't get me wrong. It wasn't back to normal, but I did get to kiss her in the morning and right before bed. We finished up the crib and we’ll paint this weekend. Things were looking up. We even squeezed in a check up yesterday for Sash junior, who is doing wonderfully. I couldn't be a better state of mind.

"Mmm..." came a tired moan and I smiled against her shoulder, kiss her skin.

"Mornin'," I whispered and she shifted in my arms so that she was facing me, still on her side. She moved slowly, her hand rested on her belly. I smiled softly, seeing how over conscious of the baby she was, even in her sleep.

"What time is it?" Sash mumbled against my neck, her lips tickling my Adam's apple. I kissed her forehead and sat up a bit to see her alarm clock.

"It's a quarter to nine," I answered, "Go back to sleep."

"Mmm...'kay," she mumbled, hugging around my waist tightly. I bent down to kiss her ear.

"I love you," I whispered. I waited and she shifted after a moment. I felt the warm, wetness of her lips against my throat as she pressed a kiss to my skin. I involuntarily shivered, rubbing the small of her back in tiny circles as her breathing slowed to a sleeping pace. She was knocked out again, snoring softly. I tried to ignore that she didn't say 'I love you' back and closed my eyes to block out the sun.

The humming of the AC was actually soothing, but I still felt edgy. I know it's just been a week and though I've been whispering 'I love you' everyday to her, I shouldn't expect the same. It was her trust in me that needed to be restored, not the other way around. I just needed to be patient. I had to force that patience out of me. It would be a while before she smiles and kisses me on the lips and says it back with hesitance. I just had to be grateful that I was being given that chance...

It didn't hurt any less though, but I took a deep breath, expelling it slowly as I rubbed her back gently, drifting back into a peaceful sleep.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was still weird seeing Justin casually strolling about the kitchen, tossing eggshells into the trash bin beneath the sink. After our overly emotional decision making, he had stayed the night every night for a week or so. It was nice, for lack of a better word, to spoon with him. I felt safer and Bob curled at our feet. There was still tightness in my stomach though...A reluctance. Justin was so happy to be part of my life again... almost too happy. Yes, I said I wanted a future with him, but it was going to be a lot of work to regain that trust.

Now that my mind and heart weren't confused by tears, closeness, or guilt, I could see things more clearly. I could see we were in need of a lot of renovations. "So... I was thinking..." I started, the awkwardness hanging at the tip of my words. Justin nonchalantly tossed me a wholehearted smile over his freckled shoulder, exposed by his white ribbed tank.

"About what?" he asked, going back to scrambling eggs on the stove. I wondered why breakfast was his only specialty. Most people upgraded after eggs and rice, but Justin seemed stuck in place.

"I think we need to lay down some ground rules for our... relationship," I said, the word 'relationship' feeling a lot stronger than I liked. Too official, in a sense, because we were working on gaining a relationship again, not working on our relationship itself. We didn't take a break, we broke up, and now we're starting new. "We need to take baby steps with this." That was most certainly the best way to put it, but I saw Justin's scrambling slow down a bit.

"How slow do you want to do this?" he asked, turning off the heat and facing me, "Is this too much?" He looked about the room, referring to our breakfast scenario. I shrugged, never really thinking it through, but I guess it was a bit too forward for him to spend the night - sex or no sex - and it was strange seeing him in my kitchen first thing in the morning.

"Now that I think about it, it is kinda weird to be doing this so soon," I told him honestly, "Two weeks ago you probably wouldn't have made it through my front door."

"So I'm not allowed to come by?" he asked, seeming somewhat annoyed. I felt an edge creeping up into my throat, but I told myself he was sensitive to the situation. Maybe he thought this was just rejection.

"You can come by, but sleeping over and breakfast... That's a bit much...for now," I said as gently as possible, but he still managed to frown. Damn him. "Look, I love having you around as much as you love being around, but I think we might get so caught up in the lovey dovey bullshit that we won't be thinking straight until it's too late to realize what we're doing. I don't want us to be all happy-happy-joy-joy; thinking we're a family and blah, blah, blah, and then when Sash Junior shows up, we can't communicate and handle the stress...You know what I mean?" I hated rambling, but Justin was so quiet and that was never a good thing. I wanted to fill up the silence.

"I hear ya," he mumbled, letting out a deep breath before turning his back to me, lifting the pan of eggs over the plates he laid out on the counter for us; half the batch of fluffy yellow for one plate, the other half for the other.

"Is that all you have to say?" I asked after waiting a moment for his thoughts to continue. I watched his freckled shoulders shrug.

"You want more space, right? That's what you're asking for?" To be honest, I didn't know what the hell I was asking for, I wanted to tell him, but I guess space was it, in a sense.

"I want us to talk to each other, but maybe the physical contact and the physical closeness should be post-pone..." I clarified, knowing damn well that a caress from Justin would send me out of my logical self. I wondered if I did the same to him.

"You make it sound like it's...wrong or something for us to want to touch and be close," Justin sighed, "I honestly don't see how that's going to hurt us. I should be allowed to kiss you good morning or goodnight..." I shook my head, raising my hand to silence him.

"Justin, that's the problem right there," I said, "First it's morning kisses, then it's night time kisses, and then it's any time of the day kisses and I don't know about you, but when it comes to physical shit... we tend to get a little caught up and greedy. We don't think straight when we're...close. Maybe that's just me; maybe I'm weak or something -"

"You don't think I'm weak when it comes to you?" Justin scoffed, "Where have you been our entire relationship? You look at me and I can't remember what the hell I was talking about five seconds ago." He had made his way over to my cabinet, grabbing half a loaf of potato bread. "I get what you're saying, Sash, I do..."

"I know you do now," I said, watching as he grabbed four slices out of the package, "I just wanted to be clear though. I don't want you to think I don't want to be close to you 'cause that's not the case at all." Justin smiled to himself as he plugged up my toaster by the microwave, readjusting our breakfast plates to make room.

"I know you want to touch me, Sash, you don't have to tell me twice," he said, making me roll my eyes. He was so damn cocky sometimes, "But that's what I'm trying to tell you... We want to touch too much and to be honest; this morning's got me a little...itchy. I thought I missed you, but whenever we kiss...I know I miss you for damn sure... I feel like if we don't try little physical things and just cut ourselves off cold turkey, the time when we do get a taste of each other..." He popped into the individual toaster slots in time to turn and raise a brow at me. A sexy little smirked curled up the corner of his lips and despite my better judgment, I felt a jolt right between my stupid legs.

"You're an idiot," I childishly chastised because I was right and he was saying dumb shit and looking at me funny to through me off base.

"I'm right, and you know it..." Justin sang softly, "I mean, you're hot stuff, little mama..." I tried not to feel flattered, but the compliment was much needed. I spent way too much time pointing out stretch marks to feel like the hot little mama he saw me as. I hated my insecurities for making me so weak to his words. He actually found this body attractive, granted, he hasn't seen it or, according to him, another woman's body since we broke up. It could just be desperation.

"Can we keep it to a minimum and only when it's necessary?" I said. Justin started nodding before I raised my hand, "And no sex - that's completely out of the question." His face fell immediately, head nodding ceased.

"Why?" he asked and I almost pointed to my baby bump in disbelief.

"I'm pregnant, perv," I snapped, crossing my legs like he was going to jump me then and there. Justin shrugged.

"So?" he scoffed, "I read that it's perfectly normal and highly recommended that you have sex regularly during pregnancy. Makes birthing easier; you won't be as... tight." He had the nerves to look down at my lap at the mention of the word and I adjusted my night gown to further cover up my knees.

He was telling the truth though. I knew that sex was normal and recommended; having worked in the maternity ward for clinical during my college years. I knew sex was healthy and normal, but I couldn't get past the fact that my baby was there, witnessing the nonsense.

"I don't want you poking my baby's face with your penis," I told him, making him snicker, "I'm serious, Justin Randall. You're always trying to do crazy shit and you're gonna end up giving my baby some sort of brain damage in the process. I'd rather not."

"Sash, you cannot be serious," he groaned, completely amused, but I wasn't laughing. Fuck what the medical books said; my baby was exposed to that shit.

"Whatever, Justin," I sighed, "Laugh all you want, but we're not having sex. My body is a penis free zone."

"Can I go down on you?" Had I been drinking my orange juice, I would've sputtered it out all over the table. I gasped. "What?" Justin asked innocently.

"You did not just ask me that!" I said, shocked. Justin shrugged.

"I feel like that's a perfectly valid question," he said, "You don't want anything to do with my penis, but I want everything to do with your pu-"

"Oh my god!" I interrupted, closing my eyes and taking a deep breath, "Honestly, we haven't even had breakfast..." As if on cue, the toast popped up and Justin placed two slices of bread on each plate. He neatly pushed aside the bacon and sausage he had previously cooked closer to the eggs to make room and I rolled my eyes at his OCD.

"Fine, after we eat can we discuss...eating?" He laughed at his own perverse question and I ignored him, turning away from his sight when he turned with our breakfast plates in hand to sit at the table. I only turned back when he placed my plate in front of me. I was starving and I wasn't crazy enough to skip out on his cooking just show him I was mad.

I shifted in my seat to face my full plate. I felt his eyes burning a massive hole into my face as his fork clanked against his dish. I blindly reached for the ketchup and squeezed it all over my food once I got the cap open. I placed it next to my orange juice.

"Can you pass me the ketchup?" Justin asked, breaking our silence. I rolled my eyes. Now he needed the damn kitchen? Still, I kept my eyes down, sliding the ketchup back to the middle of the table. He snorted a laugh.

"Thanks, babe," he said and I knew he was waiting for me to say something back.

"You're welcome...babe," I mocked, picking up my fork and digging in. The eggs were perfectly fluffed and seasoned. The bacon crisp and the sausage browned to perfection. He really made a good breakfast, I had to admit. He made terrible breakfast conversation though.

"Okay, subject change, then, huh?" he suddenly suggested before continuing. "I'm going to L.A. Monday." I looked up for that, pouting involuntarily because he was being irrational.

"You're leaving because I don't want to have sex?" I blatantly asked. His face crumpled up in confusion before he shook his head.

"No, crazy," he laughed, "I have some shit to take care of back home..."

"What shit?" I inquired, forking up a piece of sausage and devouring it.

"I have meeting with Johnny..." he mumbled off with a shrug. I looked at him expectantly because I had no idea who the hell that was. "Oh, Johnny?" Justin said, catching on as I nodded, "He's my manager. Everything I do goes through him and he's the one I had to discuss record release dates with and I have demo to give him, stuff I've had for a while."

I nodded, not really intrigued by his work conversations, but the demo was interesting. "Can I hear this demo of yours?" I liked his music in the past and it would be nice to hear what he's been working on since we have so much drama and never enough time to discuss our work with each other.

"That's top secret stuff, baby," he said with a smirk, "I can't let anybody listen to it." He wanted to be a smartass? Two can play that game.

"Okay..." I said, sounding anything, but okay. I put on my best pout and continued eating, slowly. Justin's chair squeaked and I knew he was feeling uncomfortable now.

"Why are you lookin' like that?" he asked gently, reaching across the table touch my eating hand. I fought the smile threatening to take over my face, shrugging again.

"I dunno..." I mumbled, "I just... I never get to hear your stuff. We never even talk about it... I was just curious about what you sound like... I used to love hearing you sing in the shower..." That wasn't a lie; those mornings with Matthew were some of my favorites.

"Okay," he said, "The demo's back at my apartment. I can even sing some of 'em live, if you'd like. I've got my piano and guitar back there too. I'll give you an exclusive show. Does that sound fine?"

"You don't have to do all that," I said, but I was beaming because I got all that shit with just a pout.

"No, baby, I want to," Justin smiled before licking his lips, "Under one condition." My beams were gone at the mention of that.

"What condition?" I asked, sitting back in my seat and retracting my hand from his. He laughed.

"Relax, Sash," he said smoothly, "I just want you to hear me out about something."

"Is listening to you the condition?" I asked. I searched his eyes, but didn't see anything terrible or sex-related for that matter.

"Well yeah, but I'm hoping you'd consider it too," he said softly, less confident than before. My interest peaked. He looked... nervous, his eyes searching mine for a second.

"What is it?" I asked, not knowing if I wanted to even fucking know.

"It's about the baby shower," he said, making me roll my eyes. Who gives a shit about that? I'm thinking something terrible was going to happen.

"What about it?" I asked, "Your mama and Claire been talking?"

"No, I've spoken to my mama though," Justin said, "We were thinking that we could have it at my place." Was this boy crazy? His mansion was... well a mansion, but I how was family and friends getting there? Did he really want strangers, even though they'd be my people, in his home? Hell, I didn't want half of them in my home.

"Wouldn't it be easier to have it in Philly? I can't just ask my girls to get round trip tickets -"

"Baby, I've got that covered, you know I wouldn't ask that of your family and friends." I rolled eyes. I hated him throwing his money around. Rich or not, that's a hefty bill.

"I'm not letting you fly a million people to L.A. for me. There's nothing wrong with Philly. We can rent a nice hall downtown and -"

"Whoa, wait," Justin interrupted, "I wasn't talking about flying to L.A."

"What? Are we taking a jet plane to your apartment?" I asked, confused.

"No, of course not," Justin rolled his eyes, "I'm talking about home. Real home...I'm talking Millington, Tennessee." I felt my heart drop to my stomach in matter of seconds.

"Like...southern area? Like 'I-had-to-fly-half-my-family-to-L.A.-because-the-other-half-was-too-racist-to-meet-you- Tennessee?" Justin glanced away and shrugged.

"Well...yeah," he admitted, "Make we drop my fork in disbelief, "But it's not going to be crazy, I promise. My mama spoke to my fam-"

"A conversation isn't going to just erase racism," I growled, "Are you crazy, Justin? You do know that my whole family's as black as me and that my friends are mostly as black as me -"

"Yeah, I kinda assumed that much -"

"Well did you assume that I wouldn't be willing to drag them all to hell with you?" I asked, "This is suicide. I'm not walking straight into some racist trap -"

"It's not a racist trap, Sash," Justin interrupted, yet again, "Listen, they know you're pregnant and they're happy for me. Sasheirah, they're happy for us."

"They're gonna try and kill my baby," I said, rolling my eyes to heavens because he was too damn blind sometimes. Family was good at slapping smiles on and then getting out of control when you least expected it. Even if his mom spoke to some of his family, it doesn't mean they'll stay that calm and chummy the whole day. Besides, I wasn't going to put my family and friends through that. I wasn't going to prove my mama right that a white boy was no good and I wasn't going to risk Claire going to prison for snapping on one of his racist relatives. I could foresee the drama and I wanted nothing to do with it.

"I can't do that," I said firmly, "We can send them pictures from the party over here. Hell, if they had a separate shower, I'll go with you and that's it. I'm not subjecting people I care about to that mess. If anything happened, my mama would have to kill you for dragging her there and I wouldn't stop her."

Justin took a deep breath, nodding. "I understand," he said simply, "But Sash, they really are excited for our daughter. They were devastated when I lost my first child and now... they understand I'm getting second chance and I'm happy with you. They're respecting that." His eyes were getting all big and googily. He really wanted to have this damn shower in Tennessee.

"Why can't you fly your family and friends to Philly?" I asked, feeling more comfortable on my own turf.

"Because I'm not flying the whole town of Millington to Philly," Justin laughed, "I think my friends alone would over crowd our banquet hall. I have an uncle with a ranch down there and it's perfect for barbeques and whatnot. Plus there are horses kids can ride on... It's really nice. I think it's a great place to celebrate our baby girl." Damn him with his horses and barbeque talks with googily eyes.

"I'll think about it," I said, sighing because I already knew my answer would be yes. "Damn you."

Justin smirked. "I love you too, sugar plum."

"Wait a minute...What?" Claire was looking at me like I was crazy, her hands up to stop me from speaking momentarily as she shakes her head at the news that Justin and I were, for lack of a better word, together. Her frazzled mind reflected in her wild expression; eyes wide, her hair shaping her face in a fresh set of Shirley Temple curls bounced as she mumbled something, her head jerking from left to right as she made comical, imaginary bullet points.

"Stop it, Claire," I smiled, because I knew she was frontin' like she didn't want this shit to happen and sure enough, she burst out laughing. I watched as she howled with laughter, adjusting her mint green scrubs, which were nearly identical to mine with the exception of a white lab coat draped over her shoulders.

"Oh my goodness, girl! This is crazy, that's all I'm saying," Claire said, beaming at me with a knowing eyebrow arch. I read that face and knew what she was getting at.

"It's not like that, Claire," I said, getting uncomfortable, "There was no wild make up sex that caused this." She sucked her teeth, not trying to hide her disappointment.

"Why not?" she asked and I rolled my eyes. What was with people and pregnant sex?

"That's nasty, Claire! I'm pregnant," I said, gesturing toward my baby bump for proof, "Besides, we're trying an alternate route to getting back together. It's a no-physical-contact type deal. We haven't even kissed or held hands for two weeks now."

"Whoa," Claire said, truly impressed. I didn't know whether I should be flattered or offended, "How's that working out for you?" I ignored the tightness in my gut that told me it wasn't working out too well because it felt like I was on a diet and left alone in a candy store filled with chocolate goodness whenever Justin's fine ass waltz into the room. I hated knowing where his mind was nearly all the time. He might've said he was okay with things as is, but I saw his lingering looks, and I felt the way he stood unnecessarily close to me all the time, brushing skin and adjusting parts of my clothing that didn't need adjusting.

"It's...different," I tried, but Claire scoffed a laugh, shaking her head at me.

"You know this isn't gonna work, right?" Claire said, leaning back in her seat and picking at her fruit salad, "Justin's gonna get you all weak in the knees..."

"He respects our decision to keep things...separated," I defended, not wanting to seem soft, "Besides, he's been in LA this last week and I've been good with him being away."

"Duh, 'cause he's not around to bump you or caress you or stand so close you can just smell him..." God, I hated Claire sometimes and this was one of those moments because the bitch was so damn right. His vacation came at a good time. We had spent the weekend together, painting the nursery and finishing the crib. Lord knows that all those accidental bump-ins and paint splatters that led to giggles and stumbling that led to catching and holding and staring each other down with an intense urge to drop those motherfuckin' paint brushes and -

"Sash!" I snapped back into reality, Claire's laughter echoing in the empty lounge area. I looked down at my Mac'n'Cheese and felt overwhelmed with embarrassment. I was really going back to being a teenage boy because of that damn man.

"Shut up, Claire," I said after her laughter hadn't subsided. She was pounding the table with her fist, dying with laughter. I felt my face being tugged, the corners of my lips curving upward... And then I just laughed with her dumbass because her giggles were contagious and I needed to laugh at myself. With Justin hanging around and the physical being off limits, I had been rather stiff. If he even touched my shoulder, I flinched away and he'd roll his eyes and say something smart.

Well, ha-fuckin'-ha, Justin. I'm sorry I don't light your entire soul on fire with a lingering look...

"You wouldn't be so damn worked up if you had that crazy make up sex..." Claire mumbled off and I narrowed my eyes at her.

"That's gross," I said again, staring down at my baby bump. I wanted to be able to detach it for an hour and have that incredible sex. I wanted to... But that would never happen and it shouldn't. Physical shit fucked up emotional shit - I knew that, especially in terms of all things Justin.

"How is that gross?" Claire scoffed, "I had sex all the time when I was pregnant, right up to damn near giving birth...Shit, I think an orgasm caused my water to break." I gasped, horrified at the very idea. I widened my eyes at Claire who gave me a 'so what?' face and shrugged and cackled like a witch at her own sick joke.

"Birth?" I gaped, unable to imagine how she could do that with her baby so developed and aware. I read that the baby can hear almost everything. I didn't want her to hear...that. Not like that. Not the way Justin made me sound. The moans, the groans, the overly-sensual moaning caused by his sexual torture...I held onto that though, feeling that electric through me. Damn that man. I used to be two seconds away from joining a nunnery and now I was one sex act away from being a nymphomaniac.

"Oh stop looking so shocked," Claire said, breaking into my thoughts, "You know me and I know you. Stop being so uptight and let shit flow... If you happen to be in the mood and Justin happens to be in the mood -"

"Justin's always in the mood," I inserted. Claire gave an approving nod.

"That's what I'm talking about," she smiled, leaning back in her seat, "Stop making that face like it's a bad thing." I rolled my eyes, crossing my ankles as I yawned.

"It is," I sighed, starting to feel that annoying grip of insecurity on me, "If he's always in the mood and I'm completely repulsed by the idea of pregnant sex-"

"Only because you're nervous about your new body," Claire said, making me hate her for knowing me so well. "He loves you and he doesn't care. The fact that you're carrying his child makes you that much more attractive. My hubby told me that all the time." I looked at Claire and she looked completely content with her husband's words. I couldn't believe Justin when he told me I was beautiful and I only became more self-conscious when I caught him glancing at me for no reason. I had no idea why he was attracted to me before this baby and now that my baby bump was causing stretch marks, I couldn't bear the thought of nudity when it came to Justin.

Besides, in all honesty, when I dug deep and examined the foundation of my self-conscious, self-loathing, anti-sex attitude, I saw Jessica Biel written all over it.

Jessica was the last woman he had sex with - at least that's what he told me. She was the last to please him. The last body he saw. The last person he touched that intimately and as much I was envious of her body (in comparison to mine), I was more...hurt than anything else. I didn't want to be physical with him because the whole time I'd be thinking 'how could he have done this with somebody else?' Every kiss, nip, caress...Did he do the same to her? Was I better? Was she better? Did he do it this way or that? As much as the fact hurt, I was oddly curious. I wanted to know because I never wanted to imitate her. I never wanted to have a moment where I saw the memory of her in his eyes because I moaned the way she did or I tried something she had already done.

"I just can't do that," I told Claire softly, feeling the mood shift all around me. Suddenly Justin wasn't such an easy topic. Claire gave me one of her disapproving grunts before looking down at her salad, popping a piece of pineapple into her mouth.

"So he's in LA?" Claire inquired after a moment, forking me a piece of cantaloupe I gladly accepted. I sighed because thinking about him being away made me realize how much I missed him despite all the bullshit. Having him around, even if he didn't spend the night, made my house feel more...homey. Bob even seemed more energized. I was tempted to let him sleepover the night before he left, just because, but I told myself to be strong and resisted the urge by pointing out that his downtown apartment was closer to the airport anyway.

"Music shit," I said with a shrug because I didn't have much knowledge beyond that, "He pushed back his album for the baby." Claire nearly choked on a piece of cantaloupe and I looked at her as she coughed, knowing the feeling exactly. "I know; it's ridiculous, right? I mean, it's going on five years since he's done anything solo and he's blowing it off. I mean, he could wait to tour or something, but the whole album? I feel so...guilty." I couldn't really explain what I was trying to say. It just felt like I was getting in the way of a million fans' hopes and dreams of hearing something new from Justin. Hell, even I wanted to hear something new.

Granted, he had invited me to his place for an exclusive, but I later on declined, fearing he'd trap me there somehow by letting me fall asleep or suggesting another movie night. I really couldn't hop in the same bed as him with such an unstable amount of self-control and with Justin so willing to damn the whole idea of abstinence to hell. It would be too easy and too damn sweet to pass up on, so the best way to not fall into temptation is to avoid it in the first place.

"You shouldn't feel guilty," Claire said after composing herself, "You and him are together - he's building a family. He can have all the fame and money in the world, but family is something he wants more than anything. He doesn't want to miss a moment with you guys and I think that's really sweet." I rolled my eyes, despite the fact that I felt really special, not only because Claire made Justin look even better as an overall human being, but because she said 'you guys' in reference to Sash Junior and I. We were a team already; Daddy's girls. I felt unusually giddy at the revelation.

"Whatever, Claire," I verbally disregarded, not wanting to get too hung up on the idea of actually having a family - Mommy, Daddy, baby, and Bob. A stable family unit wasn't something I grew up with, so I was being smart enough to avoid getting attached to the prospect of actually having one. Justin and I weren't fully together - things could easily fall apart. That was always at the back of my mind. "I cannot wait to get this damn baby stuff over with." My subtle subject change worked like a charm. Claire's eyes were beaming.

"Oh, I am so excited about this damn baby shower!" she gushed suddenly, making reality crash down on me. I might've forgotten to mention that whole Tennessee thing...

"Claire, Justin had an idea about that," I stated, making sure the blame wasn't on me. Claire didn't try to hide her surprise.

"But he's the guy," she said, confused, "It doesn't matter what he has to say." I smiled because that was such a Claire thing to say.

"Well, since he's paying for the bulk of the party, we'll have to make an exception to that rule..."

"By bulk you mean the whole thing, right?" Claire inquired, making me annoyed. She sounded like my damn mother. "What? I'm just saying..."

"Anyway," I sighed, "The baby shower's not gonna be here."

"At the hospital?" Claire asked, making me want to slap her.

"No, fool," I said shortly, "Philadelphia."

"Oh..." she paused, smiled, and then thought it over."Wait...Which is it? Not in Philadelphia or not in the hospital?" My hand itched with the urge to smack her, but I rubbed my belly instead, feeling how weird my belly button was getting, all jutted out beneath my scrubs.

"He wants to have it in Tennessee at some ranch and he's paying for the airfare for all of my family and friends to get there..." I mumbled out, hating the idea. Claire's face was beginning to say the same thing.

"You mean...Tennessee, Tennessee? Like...with his redneck, let-me-get-my-lynching'-rope family, Tennessee?" I nodded, confirming the source of her distress. She stayed quiet for a moment, mulling it over.

"I know, right?" I agreed to her silence, "I mean... he probably thinks it's a great way to smooth things over..."

"Smooth what over?" Claire asked, "Racism? This isn't an argument between his family and you, it's a preference of prejudice that I don't think you should attempt to delve into. Do you know how much shit will go down if something crazy happens? And by crazy, I mean racist." I figured that much, I wanted to say, feeling uneasy. I don't know why Justin couldn't understand that part.

"I can see my mama now..." I groaned, picturing her burning that whole damn ranch down, "Oh Lord... I have to think this over." Claire reached over to pat my hand.

"I think Justin's being a little peace maker. He wants his family to love you and accept y'all having a baby and being together, but in all honesty... He can lead a horse to water, if you know what I mean? It's sweet though; he means well."

"Oh Claire, you did not see the look on this boy's face when he asked!" I whined, "His eyes lit up and he was kind of hesitant about it, but he looked so excited by the idea of his family merging with my family... It made me feel a little more okay with it. I mean, Justin's family is his family though... I don't want there to be this whole big thing and it's like...he has to choose or something; between his family and me..." I pushed down the sick feeling in my stomach. I was never the choice for anybody. Not Angel, not even Justin at a time was always second best and I didn't want to have to do that again.

"If it comes down to that, Justin'll choose you," Claire said with confidence, "You and that baby are his family. No doubt about that." I shook my head. A baby mama versus the people who raised you? I internally frowned.

"I don't know..." I sighed, "I don't want to think about it anymore." I reached over, grabbed the whole banana lying on a napkin by her fruit salad bowl. Claire chuckled, eating a watermelon piece.

"You worry too much," she said simply, "Relax." I rolled my eyes. Yeah right, relax.

---------------------------------------------------------------

I felt like an asshole. Maybe I should've gotten her something? I mean, it's not like I went away to France - I just went to LA. Maybe I should've given her a Lakers’ jersey? A little LA hat for Sash Junior? I smiled at the prospect of having my baby girl decked out in Lakers gear. She'd be their little cheerleader.

"Oh, Justin, baby, I'm so excited to see how big she's gettin'!" My mama was clapping and swaying as we walked, so full of excitement. I rolled my eyes, laughing at her as she adjusted the lace trim of her beige top.

"Mama, relax," I soothed, rolling her humongous luggage behind us. I readjusted my Ray Bans as we moved through the crowded airport, virtually undisturbed. I loved Philadelphia for the lack of paps. LAX was nearly impossible. Sometimes I never wanted to leave home, or come back to it for that matter, because people didn't know how to fucking act. Here, they stayed their distance and even when they got close, they were a lot less aggressive. It made you almost want to strike a pose for the hell of it.

Almost.

"I am just so happy 'cause she's doin' good and with the grin you've been havin', she's probably lookin' real good too!" She laughed out loud, making me chuckle. I loved that she knew me so well.

"Oh stop it," I said, blushing a bit because it was still my mama. I felt like she had pointed out who I was crushing on before I even knew I really liked the girl. That awkward, caught feeling that made you want to hide, but nevertheless, I moved a little faster as we neared the exit because my baby was waiting for me on the other side.

Sure enough, Sash's car was double parked by the entrance. She was facing the opposite direction as she bobbed her head to music. I could hear the beat faintly as we neared her car. I tapped on the passenger window, making her flip her ponytailed head around. Her face instantly broke into a smile as she popped open the trunk and unclipped her seatbelt a moment later.

As I headed to the back of the vehicle, I could hear my mother and her gushing and squealing as they hugged, saying how good it was to see each other. I placed my mother's roller bag into the trunk before shutting it. I strolled back to where they stood, Sash on display as my mother rubbed her belly, embarrassingly bending down to rest her ear against it. I watched though, slightly envious at how easily she touched her. I felt like I was walking on eggshells with the physical shit. I just wanted to kiss her and rub her belly and hold her at night because I knew for a fact that she felt safer with me there. Hell, I felt safer with me there. Sleeping alone in my big ol' apartment was bullshit. I practically begged her to at least let me sleep on the couch at night, but she refused, saying she wanted space. I wish I were a little more stubborn and argued her down, but I didn't want to cause any stress. I was still trying to get into her good graces and if that meant swallowing my pride, then so be it.

It didn't suck any less though.

I glanced up, finding Sash looking at me with this sad smile like she was reading my mind. I held her gaze, the warmth of her eyes soothing me because I loved that woman, touch or no touch.

"Hey," I mouthed as my mother badgered on about the baby's size.

"Hey," she mouthed back, and I wanted nothing more than to kiss her and hug her for an unnecessary amount of time, but my mother had finally ended her grandmotherly squabbling to stand up straight and hug Sash from the side, beaming at me.

"I know this baby is gonna be gorgeous," she gushed, "And happy! What a happy baby!" I rolled my eyes, laughing as Sash did the same. I gestured toward the car.

"Mama, please get in before they lock you up," I joked. My mother giggled, rubbing Sash's belly one last time before I opened the passenger door for her.

"Oh no, I'm in the back," she announced, opening that door for herself, "Sash is shot gun because I know you weren't thinkin' of makin' her drive back into the city." I glanced back at Sash to see her fighting off the argument that she was capable of driving, but I knew my mother meant well.

"Of course not," I lied because Sash wanted to drive and I wasn't going to get in her way. I had one too many speeches about her being independent to take her car out of her hands.

"That's my boy," Mama said, disappearing into the backseat. I shut the door after her, turning back to Sash to reach out for the keys. She glanced at my palm and back at me. I glanced at the back window and back to her, shrugging. It wasn't my call. Mama gets what Mama wants and Sash pouted, dropping the keys into my open palm. I pulled the passenger door open for her, waiting for her to be completely settled before leaning down, placing a small kiss behind her ear.

"I've missed you," I whispered softly, just to let her know, loving how good she smelled and how she sighed softly at my words. We held each other's gaze for a moment before I shut the door. I jogged to the driver's side and hopped inside, clipping on my seat belt. I glanced back at my Mama who was smiling wide, her eyes twinkling. I knew that look. She thought Sash and I was the cutest thing in the world.

She only gave that look to babies, kittens, puppies, and young couples.

"You ready?" I asked and she nodded, sitting back in her seat. I turned back to Sash who looked up at me after clipping her seat belt on, adjusting the straps over her baby bump. "You?" I asked her. She reached over, taking my hand in my lap to give it a squeeze.

"Ready," she said simply, her eyes saying so much more. I lifted her hand in mine, kissing against her knuckles. I reluctantly released her hand into her lap, starting the car. The sounds of Eminem's Recovery album came blaring through the speakers. I raised a brow at Sash, who shrugged.

"You're letting my baby listen to him?" I asked, shaking my head.

"What?" she asked innocently, "It's a good album."

"Great, actually," my mother chimed in, "I love the whole thing."

"Mama!" I whined, looking at her through the mirror I was adjusting. She shrugged, leaning up in her seat to poke between Sash and I.

"He's not really over Em bashing him and the rest of the guys during the 'Nsync days," she told Sash, making me want to duct tape her mouth. I hated motherly gossip, "See, we meant Eminem though and let me tell you, Mr. Mathers is really a sweet boy. He even apologized!" I rolled my eyes, remembering that fake shit he did just to impress my mother after the Grammy's one night. The moment her back was turned, he called me a faggot and walked away.

"Eminem's an asshole, trust me," I said, popping out the CD and tuning into the radio stations. I felt my mother rolling her eyes and Sash snickering a second later was a dead give away that was right.

"It's okay, Justin," Sash cooed mockingly as 'Love the Way You Lie' was announced as number one on the top forty charts. Fuck you, Ryan Sea crest. "Once you drop your album, I'll be like 'Eminem who?'" I glanced over at Sash who was jutting out her bottom lip comically. I could see she was ready to burst into a fit of giggles.

"Just laugh," I said, rolling my eyes and fighting off my own smile when she sputtered out a giggle. My mother was chuckling in the backseat like nobody's business. I ignored them both, switching the radio to some Motown station, letting Smokey Robinson and the Miracles tune them out.

The drive back to my apartment was full of chatter. My mother was playing a game of twenty-one questions with Sash concerning the baby. Sash was enthusiastically voicing her concerns and taking the advice my mother offered. I was smiling the whole time; how could I not enjoy my two favorite girls getting along? This is why I wanted my mother here because Sash would tell her things she wouldn't say to me. My mother could give us answers no book could provide. I was as nervous as Sash about our baby and to have a knowledgeable person who had been there and done that, mostly on her own, was a comfort to us both.

Once we reached my apartment, the chattering ended as my mother climbed out and took her luggage from the trunk despite my calls that I would get it for her. Sash smiled, probably loving how they both could boss me around from time to time with their independent women crap. It made me pout, which made Sash giggle as she exited the car herself, making it over to where I stood by the driver's side.

"You coming up?" I asked, already locking the doors. The alarm beeped in the quiet parking lot behind the complex. It was a Sunday night, after all. I wasn't expecting many people to be filtering in or out. There was barely any cars driving down Arch Street on our way here.

"Nah, I think I'mma head home," Sash said, not looking at me fully. I leant down, comically tilting my head to catch her gaze. She rolled her eyes and finally stared up at me, allowing me pout at her.

"Why not?" I asked, knowing full well she wasn't working tomorrow. She could come up and stay the night if she wanted. My mother was sleeping in the office space I turned into a bedroom in case Trace or she visited. Hell, even for Rachel, despite the fact that it was a long shot of getting her here. When I had gone to L.A. she was nowhere to be found. Trace told me she was staying with Jessica. I didn't call her. I wasn't trying to get caught in some twisted plot to get Jessica and me speaking again. I knew Rachel would have something up her sleeve, so I just avoided it. Call me childish, but it was Sash I was coming back home to. I didn't want any drama to bring her.

"Don't you want to just chill with your mama?" she asked, giving an awkward shrug, "I don't want to get in the way of that." I scoffed at the idea of that.

"I wasn't involved in any of the conversation y'all were having on the drive down here," I pointed out, "Trust me, my mama has loads of shit to say to you and advice she wants to give and let’s not forget all the unnecessary belly rubs." Sash giggled and it was so damn cute that I wanted to make her laugh again.

"Justin, don't get all jealous on me now," she teased, looking at me from behind her long lashes. I instinctively reached up to caress her cheek. She smiled softly at the gesture and I was grateful that she didn't flinch away. Sash was good for that these days.

"I'm not jealous," I said softly, "I'm happy y'all are getting along so well. You two are the most important girls in my life." Sash placed her hand on her belly and smiled.

"And baby makes three..." she joked, making me chuckle. I paused for a moment before I rested my hand beside hers, smoothing my hand down her belly, feeling the outward growth of her belly button. Sash didn't move, but she did hitch her breath before clearing her throat, signaling me to drop my hands.

"You're getting so big," I said in aware, my palm still feeling the taunt flesh of her baby bump.

"I gained seventeen pounds," Sash grimaced and sighed.

"That's not what I meant," I said, hating that she was taking it the wrong way.

"Oh, I know what you meant," Sash assured, "But I still gained seventeen pounds."

"That's nothing," my mother said, rolling up beside me. I had almost forgotten about her. "Sorry for interrupting, but I can only stand behind the car for so long. These pumps are killing me and I'm feeling a little jet lagged." I glanced down at her ivory heels and back at her.

"Nobody told you to try and be all fancy today," I joked. She scoffed and waved me off.

"Either way, I need to get out of these," my mother sighed, "Sash, you're coming up right? I've got some crumb cake in this bag with your name all over it!" I looked back at her roller bag, mad that she didn't tell me she had cake.