Abbey moves across the bed, running her fingers through the silk sheets, rolling through them and wrapping herself in the fabric.  I can’t make my eyes move as I catch glimpses of skin and lace.  I have to consciously think about keeping my mouth shut so I don’t drool as I watch her writhe across the bed and gaze sultrily into the distance.

I shift in my seat, hoping that no one notices my arousal as I hear Abbey’s musical laugh ring throughout the room.

After waking up with Abbey in my arms I realized that I’m much worse off than I originally thought.  Now, instead of getting as far away from her as I can, I’m sitting in a room watching her half naked body slide and move over a bed as a photographer snaps pictures and encourages her to get sexier.  I don’t think she could get any sexier.

There was a moment when I caught myself wondering why the hell Abbey was even considering this photo shoot…but then I remember that Rachel (God bless her) convinced my little Jude that some sex appeal wasn’t a bad thing and having Herb Ritz snap your photos was a once in a lifetime chance.  Surprisingly, Abbey thought that this treatment was awesome and she readily slipped into some barely there peach panties and a bra and I almost feel like I’m at a Victoria’s Secret shoot.  Almost.  The only difference here is that I can oogle VS models without getting a complete hard on and wishing I could be those sheets.  Hell, fuck sheets…I want to be those panties.

I’m fucking head over heels for Abbey Rhodes and now that I’ve seen her in her skivvies I can use my imagination to ponder what it would be like if I grew some balls and made a move.  Rachel would be proud if she heard that little idea.  In fact, she’s been watching me watch Abbey and it’s getting a little unnerving.  I have to keep texting Trace so I can occupy my hands and eyes with something else.

“Great, Abbey, wonderful!  You look beautiful.  Why don’t we try the other outfit now?  And move to the couch?”  Herb calls out and I glance up to see someone handing Abbey a robe.  She looks a little flush, but she’s still glowing.

“Hey Boss Man,” I follow her with my eyes as she approaches my seat.  I see a long expanse of skin as she sits next to me, her bathrobe opening enough so my mind wanders up the inside of her thigh and ponders on the place where that thigh ends.

Oh shit…think cold shower. Think Trace naked...ew.

“Hey Jude.”  I hope that doesn’t come out as strangled as I think it did.  Fuck, it’s hot in here.

“What do you think of the shoot so far?”  I agreed to come to this photo session because Abbey begged me, but I had no idea it was going to be like this.

“I think I never imagined that you would ever do a shoot like this.”  It’s honest and it’s better than the other thoughts I have rolling around in my mind.

“Yeah…”  She picks at her nails, a nervous habit.  “Are you…are you upset with me?”  Her big blue eyes catch mine in a hold and I’m stuck in my seat.  Not that I would’ve gotten up and left her half naked body.

“Upset?”  I know I look confused and all I can think is that I’m far from upset, I’m horny!

“Yeah…you…you just seem really tense and you keep avoiding looking at me and…and I was just worried that you were disappointed that I decided to do this shoot.”  Her eyes are pleading with me and I wish I could hug her.  I just know that touching her would be bad…very, very bad.

“Jude…I am not disappointed.  I’m surprised, but by no means am I disappointed in you.  I can understand that this shoot was a huge opportunity for you and I trust Herb to make this classy.” There, that was a good answer.  Perhaps a bit of honesty, too, “and I guess I’m a little uncomfortable seeing you in your underwear.”

She laughs a little, enjoying my discomfort.  “Who told you they were mine?  I didn’t think anyone knew.”

I swallow extremely hard and try not to bite my tongue.  They’re her panties.

I glance over to see the sparkle in her eyes and I groan, flipping her off as she busts out laughing at me.  “I didn’t think it was possible to get you this riled up, Boss man.  I’ll have to walk around in my unmentionables more often.”

Yes, please.  “No, that’s all right.”  I can’t help but watch as she saunters off to the dressing room when the wardrobe lady calls her name.  I’m not sure what the next set up is, but I’m praying for more clothing because my body can’t take this torture.  I don’t really have an outlet right now and I’m not sure just any old outlet would do.  I’m afraid I might attack Abbey Rhodes.

A moment later she’s back out in a pair of distressed jeans and a black tank top.  This is much better for my hormones.  If fact, she looks really good and she looks much more comfortable this time.  I guess the story line of this photo shoot is “Abbey Raw,” or something equally as strange.  But now Herb’s got her sitting on a couch with her guitar and I know that she’s more at home in this setting than any other.

I can’t help but admire her smile and the way her hair falls into her face as she strums the guitar.  Herb tells her just to be natural as he clicks the camera in his hand.  Abbey looks over at me, and with a large grin she starts to play one of my songs, singing slightly off key just to piss me off.  I laugh, and suddenly the attention of most everyone in the room is on me.

“Justin!”  Herb calls me over. Apparently he’d forgotten I was there.  “Grab a guitar, go sit with Abbey.”

I hesitate.  “No, I don’t think so.  This is her shoot and she doesn’t need my ugly mug messing it up.”

“Nonsense,” the older man throws off my comment with a wave of the hand.  Before I can really think a guitar is being thrust into my hands and someone from make-up has started to powder my face.  Abbey grins as I grab a spot on the couch.

“Hey Boss man.”  I roll my eyes, not sure what to say.

I really don’t like the fact that I lose all my cool when I’m around Abbey.  I’ve become a bumbling idiot and I hate that there’s not much I can do about it.  I’ve tried everything and I can’t seem to get past the fact that Abbey Rhodes has me star struck.  I should know what to say here, and I should know what to do, and I shouldn’t have sweaty palms.

I’m a fucking mess.

Abbey starts to play again, this time it’s an old Eagles song.  This I can play.  Herb is snapping pictures as I tune a couple strings on the guitar, catching up with Abbey as she plays.  Her melodic voice floats through the room and I harmonize along, happy to be doing something that comes as second nature to me so my anxiousness is a little less apparent.

“Not bad, Boss man,” She grins, “You should stick with this music thing.”  I laugh, a genuine sound this time.  It’s almost possible to forget that there are dozens of people milling about watching us and there’s man with a camera snapping our picture every few moments.  I’m not sure why Herb wanted me in these shots, but I know that they’ll be genuine and Abbey looks beautiful.

After a little more goofing around Herb stops us and they move onto the next set up.  This time, Abbey is sitting at a piano in a beautiful sun dress.  I’m not sure how Abbey in her underwear matches up with Abbey and music, but I’m hoping it’ll make more sense when the photo spread comes out.  This shoot is for ‘Vanity Fair’ and I’m actually looking forward to seeing how it all turns out. 

My phone buzzes in my pocket and I open it to see a new e-mail from Rachel.  She’s sent me the final list of PA’s I’d decided on for Abbey and tells me that we’ll have conference call tonight back at the hotel.  So much for a day off.  We’re currently in Washington D.C. after being in Boston.  The assistants I’ve picked out are all located in L.A. and we don’t want to spend the money to fly them out so we’ll be talking via web cam, but that’s good enough.  I just want Abbey to see them, get a chance to ask some questions, and get a feel for who she might like to work with.  I’m really hoping that she finds someone she’s compatible with because I really can’t keep managing both her stuff and worrying about all my shit too, especially with my European dates coming up.  I’ll be over seas and it’ll be too difficult to keep her schedule together.

Movement across the room catches my attention and I spot Abbey, now dressed in another, more elegant dress, laying across a table.  Herb is above her, leaning over the edge of a lift so he can get a straight down shot.  I can’t see how this really fits with Abbey personally.  I mean, the guitar and piano stuff I understood because that’s who she is.  But this…Abbey wears sun dresses from time to time, but mostly she’s in jeans and shirts.  Her style is casual and she’s really laid back.  I guess her being in her underwear went along with the “raw” aspect of the shoot…I mean, what’s more raw than being naked??

But this dress stuff…that’s not her at all.  If I’d had more say in this, I would’ve kept the guitar and piano stuff, and the panty shots, but that’s just because I’m a guy and I like to see her almost naked.  But then I would’ve moved Abbey outside and given her a book, or her computer to play around with.  She would be dressed in shorts and some top or something and just relaxing.  That’s who Abbey is to me.  That’s what I see when I think about her.  She’s not couture and she’s not high fashion and she’s not frilly.  She’s Abbey…my Hey Jude.

Wow…that was…

I uncomfortably shift in my seat, wondering how I’m going to get myself out of this mess.  I’ve fully admitted to myself that I’m strongly attracted to Abbey and there’s no getting around it.  I just don’t know what there is to do about it, other than spill my guts.  I just know that doing so would create a huge mess and potentially fuck up our friendship.  I really don’t want that to happen.  Plus I have to remember that Abbey’s got this thing with Channing now and I don’t want to step on any toes.

Speaking of the slimy rat bastard (This is my new name for him, just because I want to hate him), I can’t believe I helped him with another gift for Abbey.  I saw him in the hotel gift shop as I was coming back from shopping for my mom and Abbey.  I’d gotten her that charm as a late birthday present because I’d given my other one to Channing.

Anyway, I’d caught him looking at these hideous trinkets.  Like, glass fairies and little stuffed dogs.  Abbey is not that kind of girl.  She has one stuffed animal and it was a gift from her Gramma when she was really little.  She doesn’t keep trinkets because she says they just clutter up her house and they have no practical value to her.

I want to know how someone can spend so much time with a girl like Abbey and not have any clue about who she is as a person.  I mean, c’mon.  I knew a lot of this stuff about her within the first few months of us knowing each other.  Granted, we spend hours on end together in the studio, but still.  I wasn’t romantically interested in her then and I still took the time to really get to know her.  Not just her favorite color or her favorite baseball team (Yellow and the Red Sox, in case you’re curious) but to know what she values in her friends, what she wishes for the future, and what she thinks about the world around her.

I can read her now, most of the time, and I know what makes her tick.  I can’t believe that she’s fallen for someone like Channing when he obviously hasn’t done a good job of getting to know her.

Of course, I have to remember that I’ve given him enough help with gifts that she probably assumes he knows her that well.

Oh fuck me.  This whole situation sucks.  A lot.

The shoot is wrapping up now, and I see Abbey sitting in a chair next to the woman from Vanity Fair that’s doing the interview.  I meander in their direction so I can hear what’s being asked and jump in if Abbey needs saving.

I still get nervous when she’s interviewed, just because she’s so new to the industry and I don’t want some asshole of a reporter to spread lies or rumors and give Abbey a bad name.

This interviewer is tame, though, mostly sticking to questions about Abbey’s life before music and who she is as a person.  I’m happy with the questions and Abbey’s answers and overall I think that today has been a pretty successful day.

I mean, I got to watch her in her underwear, what more could I ask from a day?

Yeah, I know, I’m a pig.

After the interview is over, Abbey and I grab Mick and Todd and head out to the cars to head over to the arena for a sound check.

“What did you think, Boss man?”  She asks.  I hesitate, not missing the quiet chuckle that comes from my bodyguard at the front of the car.

“You were great, Jude.”  That’s all the talking I can risk, at the moment, because she’s sitting close enough so I can smell her perfume and it reminds me of peaches, which reminds me of peach colored panties.