My phone rings, playing the chorus of “Hey Jude,” so I know exactly who’s calling.  It’s pretty helpful, really.

“Hey Jude, what’s up?”

“Justin, are you in love with me?”

My heart jumps into my throat and I drop the phone to the floor, scrambling to find a little composure and act calm.  Where the hell did that come from? And what the hell am I supposed to answer with?

“What?”  That’s a safe bet, play dumb, Justin.  Lord knows I’ve been acting dumb lately, might as well capitalize on it.

“It’s just…a lot of people have been commenting on how we act with each other and how much you care for me and all of this stuff.  And then today Mick told me how you helped Channing out with those gifts and he made some remark about ‘how Justin really feels’ and I’m just really confused.”

So am I.

“Uhm…”  I’m really at a loss for words here.  I’m a little pissed off that Mick told Abbey anything, but I’m not surprised because he’s been threatening to for weeks.  He said if he had to hear one more girly squeal about how awesome Channing was and how thoughtful he could be he was going to have to break the news to her.  He was afraid of her getting hurt again…I can’t really blame the guy.  I can be pissed off, but I can’t blame him.

“I know, I’m putting you in a totally awkward spot and I can’t believe I even asked the question.”  She starts rambling and I catch myself thinking about how cute it is when she rambles.  And then I get the desire to bang my head against the wall.

“Abbey…”  I try and cut her off, even though I have no idea what I’m going to say to her.  My quick thinking skills are rather sluggish this afternoon and I’m wishing I’d opted for some coffee instead of tea.

“I guess I just wonder why you would go through all the trouble of doing nice things for me, and I can’t get Rachel’s nagging voice out of my head.  I can just imagine her ‘I told you so’ because she knew all along that something was going on between us.”

She’s stopped talking now and I guess that’s my cue to start with some answers, but I’m really not sure what to say.  I can’t just come out and tell her how I feel, because that would open up a can of worms that neither of us wants to deal with.  Plus, I’m pretty sure that she has no feelings for me whatsoever and I would just make an ass of myself by assuming that she does.  Get it, assuming…makes and ass of u and me.  Ha…I know, I won’t quit my day job.

“Justin?  Are you avoiding the questions because you’re completely baffled and disgusted at the thought of us being together?  Or are you hesitating because you’re afraid to tell me the truth?”

I’ll take answer number two for the rest of my pride, Alex.

I suppose I should start by being honest.  Well, partially honest, anyway.  “I did help Channing with those gifts, but only because he looked so pitiful both times that I felt really bad for the guy and I didn’t want you to be disappointed.”  See, I was honest.

“So you thought it would be better for him to lie to me and for our relationship to be based on false ideas?  That’s like some sick twisted Cyrano De Bergerac or something.”

“No, I had no idea that he was going to pretend that he thought of those gifts all by himself.  That’s between the two of you, Abbey.  And even if he didn’t come up with the ideas all on his own, does that really change how things were between the two of you?”  I can’t believe I’m partially defending the dude.

“Yes!” She’s emphatic.  “It makes a huge difference because it means he didn’t even know me at all.  It means he was using you to make me think that we had something more than we really did.  I can’t believe I slept with the guy.”  The last part is said more to herself, but I catch it like a punch to the gut.  I didn’t want to hear that.

“Well, I’m sorry.  I just thought I was looking out for you.  Next time I’ll tell you that the guy’s a douche bag and not worry about your happiness.”

“Gee, thanks.”  There’s not even a little hint of laughter in her voice and I’m really worried that I fucked up this friendship without even venturing into ‘I love you’ territory.  Dammit.

“Sorry, I’ll hold off on the sarcasm.”  This time I’m being really genuine.  I don’t want her to be mad at me.  That would suck even worse than pining after her from a distance. 

Wow, I sound pretty lame right about now.

“You never answered my original question, though.”  I know exactly what she’s talking about and I was really hoping that she’d forgotten about that little piece of the conversation.  Maybe I liked it better when she was mad.

“What question would that be?” Yup, playing dumb again.

“Don’t be an idiot.  Are you in love with me?  Because everyone around here seems to think you are.  I’m getting sick of being the only one left in the dark.”

“You’re not the only one in the dark.  I wasn’t aware that everyone thought I was in love with you.”  Perhaps diverting the topic will get rid of the question hanging between us like a bad smell.  That’s not a good sign, is it?  That the idea of me loving Abbey is being compared to a foul odor.

“Well, they do.  So, I figured I’d go right to the source and get some answers once and for all.  I’d like to move on from this topic.”

Me too.  “I care about you a lot Abbey,” more than you’ll know, in fact, “and I suppose you could use the word ‘love’ to describe how I feel…”

Just like I’d hoped, she fills in the rest of the sentence. “But you think of me just as a sister and you’re not in love with me.”  It’s said as a statement and I think I detect a tiny bit of sadness in it, but that could just be the hopes talking.

“I’m sorry, Abbey, I never meant for you to get hurt.  If you want, I’ll call Channing and ream him a new one like I did to John.”  I mean that, too.  I would really enjoy getting to run the fact that he’s not good enough for my Jude into his face.  It might make this conversation sting a little bit less.

“Eh, not worth the trouble, boss man.  I’m sorry to keep bothering you with this.”  She lets out a sign and I can almost feel her exhaustion over the phone.

“Hey Jude, did you eat lunch?”  Manager mode is starting to kick in and looking at the clock I’m starting to get worried about how ready she’ll be for the show tonight.

“Not yet, all this crap came up.  I’ll go down to the cafeteria and grab something.”

“No, you’ll stay in your dressing room and relax.  Call Sadie and ask her to get you some food.  That’s her job now.  Try and catch a little shut-eye while you’re at it, OK?”

“Yes, sir.”  I can hear the mock salute in her voice and I chuckle a little, relaxing for the first time since she posed ‘the question.’

“I’ll see you later tonight, Abbey.”

“Later, Boss man.”

The line clicks off and I throw my phone down onto the couch with a large, heavy sigh.  I cannot believe that I just averted that situation and it went off as well as it did.  I really thought that I was going to loose my cool and tell her something that could jeopardize our friendship and our boss/artist relationship.  I would hate to scare her away or make her think that I’m crazy by confessing my love.

I just have to wait until I can fly off to Europe and I should be able to forget all about this little crush.  Although, now that I know that things between her and Channing are over I’m going to have a little trouble keeping away from her.  It was easier when I could remind myself that she was in a relationship and even more off-limits than before.  It was easier to keep up the professional side of our friendship and walk away thinking that there could never be anything more.  That there would never be anything more.  There’s too much risk involved, and I don’t want to get made a fool of if she laughs in my face and tells me that I’m nothing more than a ‘brother’ to her.

The only problem is that I can’t get that note of disappointment in her voice out of my head now.  I’m trying so hard to keep any hope I might have at bay, but sometimes I wonder if she doesn’t allow herself to feel anything for me because she’s convinced that I would never go for a girl like her. 

I’m not sure that thought even made sense.

A knock on the door leaves me no time to work out my thoughts, though, and a minute later Trace comes barreling into the room.

“What’s up, Fucker??”  He jumps over the back of the couch and lands next to me with a wide grin on his face.  He’s flown out to spend the last week and a half on tour with me and I couldn’t be more thankful.  “Oh, that’s a pretty serious look you’ve got on there.”

I should know that my best friend is going to be able to read me.  It doesn’t help that I wear my heart on my sleeve all the time and it’s pretty obvious that something’s been on my mind lately.  My reserve crumbles and I just have to talk to someone about this.  I can’t keep these thoughts in anymore, and it would be nice to have someone help make some sense of what’s going on upstairs.

“Yeah, well, there are some pretty serious thoughts going through my head.”

“Can’t decide which porn station to buy?  I have the same problem.”  I let out a laugh.  Leave it to Trace to find a way to get me out of my funk by being a dirty bastard.

“Hardly.  You’d get both.”

“Touche.”  He grins that wide, crazy grin at me and I’m really thankful that he’s here.

“I’ve just been doing something thinking.  I might need a little man-to-man advice.” 

“Size doesn’t matter Justin, no matter what the girls says.  It’s the bang in your buck that counts.”  This time I don’t laugh.  A little sexual humor is fun for a while, but I’m really not in the mood.

“Can we be serious here?”  He sobers up and turns to give me his full attention.  I can’t believe I’m about to admit this out loud to the biggest gossip I know.  “I’m in love with Abbey Rhodes.”

The silence that falls over the room is so complete I fear that I might be deaf for a minute before Trace’s loud guffaw breaks into my thoughts.

“I knew it!”  I can tell that it’s taking him all the restraint in his body not to get up and do a victory dance around the hotel room.  “I knew that you were harboring some secret desire to bang our little Abra Kadabra.”

“I don’t want to bang her!”  He gives me a look and I relent, “OK, I would love to get her into bed, but that’s not my predicament.  If it were just about sex I’d call up one of my old flings and have a roll in the hay to satisfy the craving.  This is way deeper than that.”

“You’re really serious about this, aren’t you?”  He quiets a little, taking a long, hard look at my face.

“As a heart attack.”  I can’t stand to watch him scrutinize me, so I start to pick at a thread on my shirt.

“Does she know?”

“No.  She called me up asking if I was in love with her,” I tell him about Mick’s little confession earlier today.  “I managed to avoid really answering the question and she thinks I love her like a brother.”

“Did she sound relieved?”  He’s probably wondering the same thing I do, and I think that right now it’ll be OK for me to have a tiny speck of hope.

“Actually she sounded a little disappointed, but that might have been my imagination.  I don’t know how to read her when it comes to this because we’ve only ever had a platonic relationship.”  I pull at the string in my fingers, causing my shirt to bunch a little and start to separate.

“Maybe you should just tell her how you feel?”  He offers, and I don’t even consider the statement.  It’s probably because I’ve done such a good job at convincing myself of everything that will go wrong if I tell her.

“I couldn’t.  I would hate to make a stupid mistake in believing that she might feel something for me, too, and ruin our friendship and our working relationship.  We’re great in the studio together and I don’t want things to be awkward because she knows her boss has the hots for her and she doesn’t feel the same thing back.  Girls always get weirded out by shit like that.”

Trace nods his head and looks thoughtful.

“What’s Rachel’s take on all of this?  Have you told her yet?”

“No!”  I about jump out of my skin at the thought.  “No, and I’m not going to tell her.  She’s already convinced that she’s right and I’m in love with Abbey and I would hate for her to get the satisfaction of knowing the truth.  Plus, she’d say the same thing you just did and that wouldn’t get me anywhere new.”

“Well…” I wait for a profound piece of advice, but it’s Trace and I should know better.  “You’re pretty much fucked either way you look at it.  So, you can either be miserable and have her as a friend or you can tell her how you feel and risk being miserable and friendless.”

“That’s helpful.”

“But, you could also take a chance and tell her how you feel and she could reciprocate and you’d be happy, in love, and have your friend, too.”

“That’s even more helpful.”  I chuck a pillow at his head a scowl.

Telling him was supposed to turn on the proverbial light bulb and make this decision easier.  Or at the very least, he was supposed to reassure me that I’m making the right choice by backing off and not telling her how I feel.  Now I’ve got possibilities swimming around in my head and I can’t help the hope that’s swelling in my chest.  This hope is a bad thing.

A very bad, bad thing.