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.