The last thing, and I mean the last thing my brother needs is more sneakers. He’s addicted; he’s got like a preferred member card for Nike or something. It’s sick. But here I am, going down the steps, slowly, biding my time, trying not to seem like I rushed from my job to Foot Locker just so I could see him. Getting my brother some shoes is an excuse, a pathetic one just to see Justin.

If he hadn’t offered I wouldn’t have even thought about it. In fact I debated the rest of the fucking day whether I was going to get the guts to go down here. Hell it’s after five already, he’ll probably be gone. Gone to that bar with his friend and getting some little blonde girl’s number, fucking her on the bathroom wall, pinning her there against it with her hard, tight, lean body.

I frown. I hate myself.

I should just go home. I mean, he’s a flirt. He doesn’t really like me. Bev said that she’s trying to convince him to ask me out and I, I kind of freaked out on her. Because I don’t want him to know I’m all lusty after him if he doesn’t give a shit about me.

Bev says he likes me. And…and ok, so what if he does want to fuck me?

But then what? I mean I want him, too. I want him in me so fucking bad, but then, then what happens when I get it and like he’s a disappointment?

Ok, I know that’s probably 99.9% impossible but what if he just wants to fuck and that’s it. What if I have feelings? I don’t even know. I don’t know what I feel. Sometimes when I do start feeling like I might like him, like really like him, I tell myself it’s just hormones. It’s just me wanting his dick and so I force myself to just think about him sexually.

I can’t afford to think about him any other way. God I can barely afford to think about him that way!

Maybe I should just go into Victoria’s Secret and dodge his store all together. I can’t do this. I can’t go into his store. I just can’t.

Before I know it I’m at Victoria’s Secret, bright lights making me hot and sticky, someone asking me if I need help.

I’m staring at hundreds of little panties that I really don’t need. I wonder what he likes, if he likes this pink stuff, the cute sexy stuff, or if he enjoys the more vixen-like stuff with lace and ribbons. I bet he likes the ribbons. I bet he’d like to unwrap me all carefully like he does the Reese’s. And I….

I bet he’d eat me real….real slow…

I gulp. The last fucking thing I need is more sexy underwear that no man will see, but I’m here, picking out a pink and lime green thong. I grab a couple more because they have that 5 for 25 thing. I get a pair of black and red frilly panties, two standard cotton thongs, one black and one gray, and a mesh green and blue thong. I wonder if he would like any of these. Who knows? It doesn’t matter. He’ll never see them.

By the time I’ve handed over my credit card I realize I really do not need five more pairs of underwear that no one will ever possibly see, at least not with the way my luck is. I sign my receipt, thank the lady and walk out 25 dollars poorer. Great, and now I’m staring right at Foot Locker and I’ll probably be convinced to buy like a 200 dollar pair of shoes or something crazy like that.

And then I’ll never be able to move out of my brother’s apartment.

I should just go home.

Yeah, yeah I should just go back upstairs, out of the service hallway and walk to the top tier of the parking deck, get in my car, go home and call Liz.

“Hello…”

I smile and nod hi back to the short little girl who’s putting out some wind pants on a rack. God, I’m here, in here, where he works. I don’t think I’ve ever actually come in here before, at least not when he’s working. I scan the room and I don’t see him. Great.

I look at my watch.

5:24.

Even more great. He’s gone home and now I’m here and I’m stuck, standing like an idiot while this girl puts out clothing and glances at me suspiciously.

I sigh and move over the massive wall of shoes. I don’t know what the hell I’m looking for. I mean, I guess my brother likes to play basketball, but he also works out and plays intramural soccer. God, what am I doing here?

Oh yeah, the shoes are an excuse, an excuse to see Justin, who’s probably half way home by now, having phone sex with his girlfriend on the way.

“Ma’am, can I help you find anything today?”

I look to see a young black guy who’s short and kind of big, smiling at me all cheesy. Well geez, his staff sure is friendly.

“Um, I don’t know. I guess I’m just looking around…” I glance up and I see him. He’s there, not looking at me, helping some lady and her son, talking to them over near the registers. But he’s not ringing them up. He’s leaning a little on the counter, making the little kid smile, one ankle crossed over the other, so casual, so fucking sexy and in control.

Great, he is here, but I probably won’t get to be helped by him. I’ll just have to stare from a far and hope this guy doesn’t notice my drool and sweat. I suck in a breath and force my eyes away from Justin. Good God he’s tall and sexy, and I’m just staring at his back. I force myself to stare at the guy in front of me. “It’s my brother’s birthday tomorrow, so I figured I might get him some new sneakers, but I have no idea what he would like so it might be a lost cause.”

“Well does he play any sports?”

“Yeah he plays basketball.” I point to the shoes I was stupidly looking at moments ago. There’s a big sign above that says “basketball.” I guess they have them all sorted by sport. I just want some sneakers.

God I should just go get him a best buy gift card and fuck this. The only reason I’m down here is because of Justin.

The guy in front of me pulls down a shoe and shows it to me saying, “Well, these new Jordan’s have been really popular and…”

I glance at where he pulled the shoe from and see the word new and the price in bright red. Of course they are popular, they’re marked down from 180 to fucking 169 dollars. This is stupid. I should just tell him I’ll bring my brother here on Monday and let him pick it out himself. Ugh, this is just depressing.

I turn to glance and see if Justin is by the registers again but he’s not. The lady and her son are being rung up by Kevin. Maybe I should go over and talk to Kev and see how he’s been doing and…and see if I can get any info on Justin.

“And these are…” He’s interrupted by a strong, smooth voice and I suck in a quick breath and turn my eyes from the mother and son to the man that was helping me.

I almost want to squeal with how happy I am that he’s there, looking at me. “Hey Ty. Why don’t you head on home and I’ll take care of this nice young lady?”

He smiles at me, a crooked grin, his eyes calm and comforting, as if he’s telling me in that look he’s gonna make everything work out, that he’s gonna make me feel so good, I mean…he’s gonna get me some good shoes…

God, I need therapy.

“You sure?” Ty asks and I’m like, dear God he’s gonna help me. I’m like a little kid I’m so fucking excited. This isn’t good. He’s just standing there smiling at me and finally turns his eyes to his employee and nods.

“Yeah, have a good weekend.” Ty waves a little at me awkwardly and then leaves and I smile up at Justin.

Now, now there’s no apron and no counter separating us. There’s no Reese’s to talk about, only him and me and a wooden bench and lots and lots of sneakers. And he’s just staring at me, smiling. “Well well well…”

I laugh a little, “I’m so out of my element right now.”

“Well ma’am who are you shopping for today.” He rocks on his heels and I roll my eyes and push at his shoulder. Fuck, now…now if I was crazy and I wanted to, which I do, I’m just not completely insane yet, I could grab him, I could hold him, I could kiss him and nothing could stop me.

Mall security might drag me out but…but it’d be worth it.

“Oh, shut up.”

“I’m just teasin’ with ya. How’d the rest of the day go?” He goes and sits down on the bench sideways with one knee bent and resting across the bench, as if he could straddle it. Mmm, straddle.

I set my purse and my shiny pink bag on the bench he’s sitting on. I notice his eyes staring at the bag.

“Well thankfully right at 4:59 I was ready to pull my own eyeballs out of their sockets and it turned 5:00 and I was saved.”

“And now you’re here…” He glances at me and picks up the small bag with one finger hooked in the handle and dangles it in the air. “Hmm, someone did some shopping before you came here. I was wondering if you were gonna show up before I left but I see you had to take care of some business.”

My breath goes hard at the idea of him roaming through my panties, picking out sexy little outfits for me. Maybe...maybe he’d buy me lingerie. I’ve always, always wanted a man to buy me lingerie.

I’m staring at him, practically drooling when my eyes finally register that he’s dropped the bag in his lap and is slowly, secretively moving the pink tissue paper around. “Hey, stop peeking.”

I snatch the bag from his hand and sit down close to him and guard it in my hands. I was…I was close to touching his lap there. God this is dangerous. Why the hell did I come down here?

He leans in closer and laughs, it’s deep and low and full and I grip the edge of the bench. God if he’d just take me right here, right here on this bench, spread me out and fuck me right there in front of everyone…

I do not care.

God, he’s gonna make me cry I want him so fucking bad.

“Just trying to see what kind of girl you are.”

“What kind of girl?”

“Ya know…” He shrugs and moves his body so his long legs are stretched out in front of him and he leans forward a little and stretches his arms as well. I wonder if he needs a nice massage. I’ll give it. I will. If he mentions being sore I’m gonna offer a massage, make up an excuse, tell him I went to massage therapy school or something. I have to. I’m tired of all this teasing shit. I need contact. “Lacy or cotton, full bottomed or thong, virgin or dominatrix.”

I wish he would have mentioned the soreness. Now, now he’s leaning forward, elbows to his knees, smiling over at me.

Virgin…ha.

“Do you treat all your customers this way?” I ask. He’s…he’s flirting too much with me right now and I …God I can’t handle it.

“Only the ones I have crushes on.” He winks.

I have to change the subject. He’s…he’s being so flirty that, that I’m starting to think he does like me. Like when it’s just me wanting his dick it’s fine, it’s harmless. It’s just me being stupid and horny. But he’s not supposed to like me back. I don’t…I don’t know what to do if he likes me back. ‘Cause, ‘cause that means there might be a chance.

And there’s not a chance. My luck doesn’t work that way.

“Did…did you say you were waiting on me to get here? ‘Cause I didn’t mean to make you wait. I mean I know it’s probably time for you to go and I’m sure being here, at work, right now, on a Friday night is the last place you wanna be.”

The idea of him waiting around for me to show up, just like I wait around for 10:45 every morning makes my heart pound. This…this is getting too intense.

I need to get some shoes and get out of here, fast.

“Please girl, I’d rather be here helping your fine ass out than be at home, alone, hoping my buddy will call me up to go out for a drink.”

I roll my eyes. He always makes it seem like he has no life outside of work, no girls, few friends, just night classes and sports games on TV. “Oh give me a break. I doubt you’re that desperate.”

He shrugs and a small, sad look comes over his face. I realize I just said something I shouldn’t have. “You don’t know me that well.”

Fuck. Now, now he’s all sensitive and lonely and God dammit! He’s fucking perfect. And I fucking hate him for it.

He changes the topic to shoes and I’m very, very happy about it. I need to be concentrating on my brother’s present and not on how gorgeous he looks with a distant look in his eyes, a slight pout on his lips and not on how, how I so badly want to slide over and rub my hand over his back and kiss his cheek.

And then he’d turn slightly to look at me and I’d touch his face and kiss him slowly, softly. And I’d just kiss him, touching his lips, locking ours together gently, and then softly I’d open my mouth and touch my tongue with his. And he’d grip my hip, his hand hot even through all my clothes.

And I’d suck in a breath and tilt my head back and he’d kiss my jaw. I’d grab his thigh and he’d whisper against my neck, “you make it all better.” And I’d tilt down and run my lips and my tongue just lightly over the skin of his neck.

He’s staring at me and I realize I’m sitting here about to pant, staring at his strong neck. I bet he can see right fucking through me. He shakes his head and pats my shoulder as if I’m an old buddy or something.

For a moment all sexual desire leaves me and I feel a bit nauseous. Shit, shit, shit. I never want to be just one of the guys with him or an old buddy. I…I want to be his.

“Ok, so any ideas about what you’re looking for at all?”

He stands up, puts his hands in his pockets and looks down at me. He looks more professional now and I think, I think I really just fucked up with my whole “desperate” comment. I…I didn’t, I just, I guess he is desperate, that’s probably why he flirts with me.

But…but he shouldn’t be desperate. And I shouldn’t be so self-bashing. It shouldn’t be so far fetch that Justin would like me back. I just, I just don’t…I haven’t had time to deal with this.

God, what the hell am I talking about!? He doesn’t like me. He doesn’t! He’s just nice.

And fine as hell.

I sigh and say, “Well, yes and no. He’s pretty athletic. Like he plays basketball with his friends and is also on an intramural soccer team, but he works out and goes running a bit so…I don’t know. And…”

I stop myself because I’m rambling and I know I’m probably gonna start talking about money and how poor I am and embarrass myself.

“What?”

He no longer looks like the manager of a Foot Locker; he looks more like my Justin, Justin my flirty friend. And that makes me happy. I sigh and cringe, saying softly, “I don’t want to spend that much. Your little worker was showing me 170 dollar Jordan’s and I mean I know my brother would pee his pants but I just…I cant afford that.” I look down and see the pink bag beside me. I’m such a goon. I nod to the bag and look back up at him. “And Victoria’s Secret kind of brainwashed me into spending money so now I really can’t afford that.”

He sits down again and this time he’s rather close to me, turned a little so that he’s kind of leaning into me. He talks with his hands and says, “So how about this, you tell me how much you want to spend and I’ll hook you up.”

“Justin…” Now I immediately feel horrible. I don’t want him giving me favors.

“Jessica, I wanna do this for you.” I feel my body go rigid at the sound of my name on his lips and the pit of my belly start to ache so much that I cross my legs and squeeze tight. His hand touches my shoulder, rubbing a little bit at the upper part of my back. It’s a soft touch, a questioning touch. I lick my lips and he says close to me, close enough that I can kind of feel his warm, minty breath on my face, “You’re one of the coolest girls around here. Plus, you’ve let me leave without paying for Reese’s before.”

“Shhh…” I turn and I realize that if he was my man, if I was hooking up with him or dating him I’d so, so kiss him quickly right now, right on his perfect lips. “That’s a secret.”

“Consider it a present for always being so sweet and making my day a little brighter.” He squeezes my shoulder that’s farthest away from him and leans in just a bit closer, smiling sweetly and kindly and I want to fuck him hard and fast and make him groan my name and take that fucking sweet kind smile off his face. I almost start to whine. I hate how my emotions go crazy like this with him.

Liz says that’s what makes a relationship work is being in love with the person, caring about their feelings, wanting them happy, but then also being so fucking sexually attracted to them you can’t stand it. I got the ladder half down, I just…I’m scared of that first half. I’m scared of what happens if one of us has the first half and the other doesn’t.

Like, what if he does want me? But what if I fall in love and he…he just wants to fuck? Oh shit, then what do I do?

I gulp and look at him smiling at me so nicely. I could fall in love with him. I just know I could. I’ve got to put an end to this. I’m just going to have to quit my job. That’s the only solution. “How about 125? I promise I can get you out of here with awesome kicks for your brother, some for you too, and maybe even a few extra pieces of gear.”

I blink and focus on him again instead of imagining what he looks like under his black and white little referee uniform. I bet he’s buff as hell. Hmm, I gotta find out what gym he goes to.

So much for quitting.

“What do you say? I’ll even get some awesome socks in there.”

“Socks?” I laugh and it’s a lot louder than I had planned and I clasp my hand over my mouth.

He laughs too and leans in whispering, “Don’t be fooled, guys love new socks.”

I need to stop. We need to start shoe looking and I need to stop thinking about how his dick looks. Like, I bet it’s curved, and I bet the tip is smooth. I don’t normally think about blow jobs but…I’d so go down on him.

I bite my lip kind of hard to get me to stop these thoughts, “I think I can do 125.”

“I can go lower.”

How low?

I almost make myself laugh and I smile and shake my head, “No, that’s fine.”

He stands up and starts to go over to the wall of shoes in front of me. “If it goes one cent over I’ll pay for it myself.”

“Justin stop being so nice to me.” It’s harsh when I say it. Shit, I really need to work on the tone of my voice sometimes. It’s not that I’m mad at him. I’m mad at myself and I just, I feel like a robot with all its screws and bolts and shit out of whack.

“Why not?”

He needs to get a wrench or whatever and screw everything back tight.

Screw....

I stand up and walk over to him and stick my tongue out. I am a moron. “Alright…” He laughs and starts rambling and pointing at all different shoes. “Well I say let’s go for an all around shoe. Guys can get picky about their basketball shoe’s and soccer cleats you really need to be here and try them on yourself. Puma has a good soccer trainer though, if you wanted to get non-cleated. If you wanna get a running shoe, I personally love New Balances, but Adidas and Nike also have some good ones. What size is he?”

I haven’t been paying a damn bit of attention to what he’s been saying, just staring at his lips, teeth, and tongue as he’s been talking. I wonder if he’s the type of guy that likes to eat out girls…

“Jess…”

“Huh?” I try and smile.

“What’s his size?”

“Shit.” I feel my face burn, half because I was caught staring at him and half because here I am buying shoes for my brother with no fucking clue what size shoe he wears. I smile and say, “I’ll call my mom.”

He laughs, “I’ll go get some shoes so you can pick out the ones you want. And girl, if he doesn’t like em, he can bring them back and exchange or whatever, alright? We’ll make sure he’s hooked up.”

He turns and I watch him walk away as I blindly search through my purse. He talks to a couple employees at the register and then goes into the back stock room.

I gotta calm myself down. And…and I just don’t know how I’m going to do it with the feeling of his hands on my back and his lips near my face and his smile and his eyes directed only at me.

He’s been looking only at me.

The distance allows me to collect myself and by the time he comes back I’m joking about how uncomfortable the benches are. It doesn’t take long for us to pick out some shoes for my brother. Justin says he’d think I was the best sister if I got him the shoes we decided on. It’s interesting ‘cause we came to the decision together, as if my brother was our child or something…

I have to stop that type of thinking quickly so I ask him about my shoes, ‘cause he had mentioned hooking me up as well. The next thing I know we were on the other side of the store and he’s pulling off one shoe after another, making me hold them in my hands and tell him whether I think they’re cute or not.

He asks me if I work out, and I tell him I do a lot of biking and rowing at the gym but mostly just like to go out for a jog a few times a week. He looks like a kid in a candy store, showing me shoe after shoe. I can finally tell that he kind of loves his job, or at least loves what his store sells. He knows all about arches and soles and materials. And I’ve just sat here and smiled and watched him.

He’s so fucking intriguing to watch. If he had a webcam blog or something of his daily activities I’d watch….

Great, great. Just fucking great. I was doing good and now I’m thinking about cyber sex. Too bad my internet connection sucks at the apartment.

“I want you to try on these, too.” He sets a pair of grey and pink Pumas beside me. I look from the shoes back up to him.

God, he even looks giddy.

“You’re like a gay man in a dress shop.”

He narrows his eyes, “Hey!”

“Just be glad you don’t have like real shoes here, or I might be the one going nuts and you’d have to find 7’s in every shoe you had.”

“Real shoes…” He rolls his eyes and mumbles, “Stupid women…” He starts walking back to the stock room again, I guess to get me these new shoes he wants me to try on. He already made me stand up and walk around in like five pairs. Now it’s like 6:30 and my stomach’s rumbling and I probably need to call Liz and tell her I might be a little late and he’s…he’s still here, on a Friday, helping me shop.

It doesn’t mean anything. It can’t.

“I take offense to that! I’d like to speak to your manager,” I call out and he just keeps walking.

I take off the shoes I had on. They were weird. They didn’t have laces and I told him I didn’t like alien future shoes that just slip on. He laughed at me. He’s always laughing at me and I don’t really give a damn. It’s kind of sexy. Like maybe he really thinks I’m funny. I like that. I like knowing I can make him happy and make him laugh.

A few minutes later I hear a deep voice from behind me, close to my ear, “Ma’am is there a problem?”

“You’re such a nerd.” I turn and put my hand on his head and push him away. Shit, his hair is soft on the top, yet still a little rough where it’s short on the sides. Perfect for me to grab the top when he’s down there eating me out and the sides would just barely brush and scratch my thighs.

“Didn’t think you’d be the role playing type…trying to play the angry customer and let me be the manager and make it all better.”

“Hush…” Fuck. I want him to make it all better. Or I want him to be a police officer and arrest me. Or be my boss and fuck me on the bench right here. I’ve gotta stop thinking about these horribly uncomfortable benches. He steps over the bench and comes in front of me and squats down

Oh dear lord.

He pulls the shoes out of their box, taking out the little plastic rod and tissue stuck in it to form the shoe and starts working on the laces. Then he takes my foot and puts it on one of his knees. If I was his girlfriend, I’d move my foot closer. I’d tease the shit out of him.

But I’m not his girlfriend so I just sit there.

I smile at him. He’s still concentrating on the shoe and I’m sitting here sprawled out on the bench in front of him, thinking of how fucking hot he is right now. “If you dare tickle my foot I will kick you in the face.”

He turns up his nose and says, “I just hope your feet don’t stink.”

“They might. I’ve been standing up all day. Do you have to deal with that a lot, like people’s nasty ass feet?”

“Nah, I mean I use to.” He shrugs. “Most people don’t want someone to really help them besides get them the shoe. And now that I’m a manager I’m hardly ever out here on the sales floor actually helping customers. Usually I have so much shit to do in the back, like ya know, I gotta do the books and check in inventory and call other stores to move shipments and call corporate and try to get more of one brand or whatnot. The only time I help customers is when their pissed at the world.”

I smile. Him helping me then is like, it’s like a special thing. I mean it was special to begin with, but the fact that he’s taking so much time with me I know is a rarity.

“Do you get lonely back there?”

I bite my lip. I didn’t mean to whisper it like I did.

His eyes are boring into mine. He licks his lips. I think I almost come in my pants. “Sometimes.”

I breathe deeply as he shoves the shoe down over my foot. “Our stock room is like a freezer.”

“I have a blanket in ours.” He smiles, laces me up tight and pulls on my other socked foot and puts it on his other knee.

“No you don’t.” I tease, thinking about how muscular his legs must be. He’s been squatting down for a while now.

“Ok I don’t, but I do keep a hoodie back there.” He laces my other shoe up and puts my foot down and rubs his thighs and then stands up.

I point my toes and look at them. “I like these.”

“Told ya, ladies love their Pumas.” He holds out his hands and I put mine against his, not thinking about how clammy my hands are. It makes me feel a little better to know that his are too. Not like gross sweaty, but just warm and moist.

“Do they now?” He yanks me up gently and we’re so close right now, holding hands kind of, staring at each other. “So do you give all the girls that walk in here special treatment and compliments?”

I bet his hands would be warm and moist after we had wild, passionate, hard, hot sex. Those hands just running all over my skin, everywhere.

I gulp. I immediately drop his hands and start walking away, staring at myself and the shoes in the mirror I’m walking towards.

I turn back around and he’s staring, his dark eyes are looking right at me.

Good fucking lord.

“Only the attractive ones.”

I walk back closer and bounce on my feet a little, liking the way these feel when I walk. Light and bouncy and fun. I narrow my eyes at him and lean in close, “You’re being a bad flirt today.”

“I’m sorry, I’ll try and stop.” He seems sincere and concerned, as if maybe he’s offended me.

I can’t resist it and I run my hand over his broad shoulder and smile, “It’s ok. I don’t mind.”

I walk back away from him a little more, thinking about the shoes and him and everything and I hear him call out, “Hey, ya know we should do something sometime.”

I freeze.

I turn and find myself staring at him. A man says ‘excuse me’ to me and I now finally realize that me and him aren’t the only people in this store.

Did…

Did he just ask me out?

His face is pinkish, not beet red, but has more color to it than normal. He’s chewing on his lips furiously.

Holy fucking shit.

“I mean, I don’t know. I feel like we see each other everyday and I don’t know hardly anything about you.”

“Oh well...I mean I don’t…”

I’m an idiot. A fucking code red, high security, needs shock therapy idiot.

“Ya know,” he smiles and laughs a little, kneeling down to pick up a couple of the boxes we decided against. “See if maybe Bev would wanna go out and I can get Kevin and just like a big group for dinner and drinks or something.”

Oh…

Well I guess, I guess that’s…that’s something. It’s not a date but…but I don’t know. I have a headache.

“Yeah…yeah that’d be nice,” I say.

“Awesome…” He looks up and smiles and I slowly walk back over where he’s cleaning up the little mess we made in trying on all these shoes. I kind of feel bad. I spent five minutes on my brother and 30 on myself. “So you wanna try on those others or are you in love with that pair and ready to check out?”

I look at him and he’s smiling at me again, face back to its normal color. He still has that small, barely there beard he’s been growing against his chin and cheeks and his lips are pink, not like lip-gloss pink, but fleshy pink, attractive, full.

Especially since he’s been biting on them.

Fuck. Fucking hell. I hate myself and I hate him and I can’t fucking stand it that I came here.

‘Cause here I am, wanting to fuck his brains out and…and dammit, I care about him. And I’m not supposed to do that. I’m not supposed to worry and think about him ‘cause…‘cause that’s gonna bring this whole thing to a place he’s probably not ready for. I don’t know what I’m talking about. I don’t even know if he really wants me or likes me or is just a nice guy.

He could be gay for all I know.

Ok, he’s not gay.

But I almost wish he were. Then…then it wouldn’t make this so fucking difficult and torturous.

I sigh, look down at my feet and then back up at him, “I’m kind of in love.”

And when I say it I’m not sure if I mean my shoes or something else.