It’s 7:30 PM.

My stomach feels weak as I look over at my clock and realize what time it is. I can’t help the giddy smile from crossing my lips as I walk over to my laundry basket and heave it up into my arms, balancing it on my hip as I grab my keys, a bag of quarters, and shuffle out of my apartment. It’s laundry night, a night I have reserved purely for my laundry and nothing else. For the past five months now, ever since I moved into this apartment building, I have dragged my clothes down to the laundry room in the basement every Monday night as if it were a religion. Not because I have an obsessive-compulsive disorder, or that I am overly-organized and need to have a set ritual every week. Or because I go through all of my clothes in a week and actually need to wash my clothes that often. None of those reasons explain why I spend two hours in the boiling hot laundry room every week.

It’s because of him. He’s the reason why I look forward to Monday nights. He’s the reason why I am actually happy that my niece spilled spaghetti on my favorite pair of jeans last night. And he is the reason why I pay to do my laundry every week, when I could just as easily do so at my sister’s place for free. As sad as this all may sound, one look at Justin and you too would dirty up your clothes just so that you could talk to him about stain removers. One look at his curly brown hair that you just want to grab on to when he’s making you scream in pleasure, or the blue eyes that darken when he’s angry or turned on, and you would understand my unhealthy infatuation with the man.

I wait patiently in the elevator, tapping my foot against the floor to the soft jazz music as I readjust my tank-top and check over my appearance through the reflection in the metal walls. The bell dings and the doors slide open, revealing a warm, stuffy room lined with laundry machines and dryers along the walls, and two large tables in the middle set up for folding clean clothes. My breath hitches when I see him standing directly across the room from me, in front of one of the machines as he separates his whites from his colors. His back is faced towards me, and I try not to stare too hard at his lean backside as I walk over to one of the machines along the adjacent wall. The black t-shirt and dark jeans are not helping my raging hormones at the moment, and I take a deep breath as I try to calm the butterflies in my stomach. I turn into this bumbling, ridiculous idiot whenever I’m around him, but as soon as I see that charming smile and bright blue eyes, I couldn’t care less about how ridiculous my crush is. I just know that he makes me feel so happy and comfortable, and that the hour we spend together down here is probably the most enjoyable time I will have with a man for the rest of the week.

“Hey Ellie,” he calls out without even turning his head, knowing I’m the only other resident who does laundry during dinner time on a weekday. I turn my head towards him as I lift open the lid of the laundry machine, and smile when I see that he’s now sitting on the middle table, feet dangling as he smiles at me.

“Hey Justin,” I answer and turn back to the task at hand, knowing that if I look at him any longer, I won’t be able to control the urge I have to attack him. I quickly divide my clothes into the appropriate machines and pour in the laundry detergent, all the while doing a pretty good job of acting as nonchalant as possible. I finally close the lids of the two machines and join him on the table, smiling when I see that he’s brought down a cooler with him tonight. He pulls out two Coronas and hands one to me as he nods his head.

“Thanks,” I say as he flips the top off with his bottle opener.

“It’s fuckin’ hot down here,” he sighs as he takes a swig of the cold drink. I watch, mesmerized as his Adam’s apple bobs and I quickly dart my gaze away, tipping the drink into my mouth. I hate the taste of beer. But for Justin, I would gladly shotgun as many beers as possible if it meant he would just take me hard and fast on this damn table. I take a shuddering breath and look at the table longingly. Oh the many fantasies I have had of him on this table…

“So…how was work?” I ask, kicking my feet back and forth in the air as I fold my hands in my lap.

“It was alright. My kids have a concert on Thursday, so they’re nervous. But it’s all good,” he chuckles, the corners of his eyes crinkling. I smile and nod, picturing him in a room full of ten year-olds. As if he wasn’t already the perfect man, with his kind personality, humor, and good looks, Justin is a music teacher at an elementary school. His eyes twinkle whenever he even mentions his students, and I feel my ovaries contracting in pain every time I see his face soften when he beams with pride.

“What about you? How was your weekend?” He’s referring to my own job at a local bar. I’m the event coordinator for Blue Notes Café, a tiny bar where all of the local jazz and blues artists in the area hang out and perform on weekends. It’s not the most glamorous job, but at least I get free alcohol and get to listen to great music. That’s another thing Justin and I have in common. We are both absolutely obsessed with music. That’s actually what brought us together in the first place.

We met on my first day in the apartment, and I can remember it as vividly as if it was a movie. I was setting up my stereo system, completely disregarding all of the boxes that were piled in the middle of my living room and the fact that I had yet to assemble my bed, and was completely focused on trying to get some music blasting through my small apartment. Justin had stuck his head in to greet the new neighbor, and had been quite amused to see me crouched down in the corner of the room, trying to make sense of all of the wires and plugs that were tangled around my legs. Being the chivalrous gentleman that he is, he had easily swooped in, introduced himself, and set up the record player and speakers in a matter of minutes. Then we spent the next hour going through my extensive CD and Vinyl collection, arguing over which Michael album was the best or which Beatles song would be the soundtrack for life. It was on that afternoon that I realized I was in love with Justin Timberlake. Ever since that day, we have spent many hours talking about or listening to music, and every single conversation only magnifies my desire for him. If only he knew how happy I would be just to go out on a date with him. Just to experience what it would be like to date him for just a few hours.

But I’m pretty sure he doesn’t think of me in any sexual way at all. I’m just another music nerd who can keep him company while his clothes are in the wash. Why else would he always bring up music when he’s around me?

His voice clears and I’m suddenly brought out of my daze, and he gives me a shy smile. “So not so good?” he asks.

“What? Oh…yeah. Work was good. I booked this new young artist who is going to be huge, so I have big hopes for next week. He has a huge fan base here apparently,” I answer him, taking another swig of the cold beer. Justin nods thoughtfully as he leans back on his hands and smiles at me.

“Maybe I’ll stop by then. When is it?”

“Friday at 9. You should come…I’ll sneak you some free drinks,” I wink as I smile at him.

He nods again and nudges me with his shoulder as he licks his lips. Oh god. I just want to suck on his bottom lip…I really can’t be in such close proximity to him. “You’ll be there, right? Keep me company?”

“I’ll be there,” I nod and tuck a stray piece of my auburn hair behind my ear. “But…won’t your girl be with you?” Oh yeah, I forgot to mention the fact that Justin has been off and on with his girlfriend for a year now. Another reason why I can’t just offer him my body so that he can do whatever he wants to it.

He scoffs and gives a soft chuckle as his head shakes. “What girl? Tara’s done for good. And I know I’ve said that to you before…but I’m telling the truth this time. I’m finished with that drama.”

My interest is suddenly piqued and I turn my body, folding my legs into a pretzel as I put on my concerned face. “Oh no. What happened?”

“Oh…you know, caught her in bed with one of her clients,” he shrugs and takes another swig of his beer, draining the cool liquid with ease. “I wasn’t as hurt as I thought I would be, so that was a sign right there that I was over her. Good riddance, she stressed me out. Now I can just focus on the kids and have my way with you.”

I choke on the beer I was just in the process of swallowing, and cough loudly as he laughs and pats my back firmly. “What?” I cough, afraid that my brain has started to actually manipulate what I hear into what I want to hear. His warm hand slides down my back comfortingly, and it takes all the effort I have to try to focus on the words coming out of his mouth, and not on the tingles running down my spine at the moment.

“Well I plan on drinking a lot on Friday. It’s going to be the first Saturday morning where I don’t have to teach a private lesson, so I can actually stay out late and act like a normal 27 year-old,” he explains as he reaches back for another beer. “You too scared to hang with the best?”

I roll my eyes and shake my head. As if. “Never. You should be the one that’s scared, Justin. You’ve never partied with me before…you don’t know how crazy I can get.”

He laughs and nods his head as he pops open the bottle of beer. “Good. I can’t wait.” We sit in a comfortable silence for a few minutes when he suddenly sits up and grins. “I forgot! I have something for you!” Your penis, possibly? I smile as he jumps off the table and holds his pointer finger up at me, telling me to wait for him. He runs over to the elevator and pushes the button as he points at me. “You are going to love this, Ellie.” I watch as he disappears into the elevators, and wait for the longest five minutes in my life for him to return. The elevators open and I look up from the magazine I had found, and my eyes widen when I see the boom box in his hands.

“I can’t believe I forgot to show you this earlier,” he shakes his head as he plugs the machine into the outlet and rests it on the table. He slides a CD into the CD port and presses play before standing up and waiting for the music to start. The sound of a guitar fills the room, and I begin to bop my head to the thumping beat as I listen to the song. I’ve never heard it before, and yet it sounds so familiar. I look at him for some sort of hint, but he only smiles back at me, closing his eyes and swaying to the music.

“What is this?” I finally ask as a smooth male voice starts to sing on top of the beat. It takes me a second before I realize where I’ve heard the voice before. “It’s you!”

He looks at me through half-lidded eyes, throwing me a pleased smirk as he nods. “Bingo.”

“Wow…it’s amazing,” I say, truly impressed with the vocals and composition. He grins and stops the music; the room falls eerily silent with only the gentle hum of the machines being heard. “When did you make that?”

“A buddy of mine has a recording studio so I finally took him up on the offer to record some songs last week. It’s not much…but it’s fun,” he shrugs as he pulls himself back onto the table and settles next to me. “I’m actually going to record a new song I wrote on Saturday. You should come with.”

“Really?” I can’t help how excited I sound. He grins and nods his head.

“Hell yeah, I want you to come. You have a great ear, you could really help.”

“That would be so much fun.”

“Perfect. It looks like we have a full weekend together,” he chuckles, waggling his eyebrows at me as his machines start to beep. “I promise I’ll be gentle…it is our first time after all.” Oh please God, yes! He jumps off of the table and I’m helpless, left with such an intense longing for him that it physically hurts me. He flirts all the time with me, joking about dating and making out with me. The fact that he just laughs about it just tells me how I’ll only ever be a friend to him. Never someone he could actually imagine being with. Why would he want little old me anyways, when he could have any possible beautiful blonde bombshell living in this apartment complex? I sigh and jump off of the table when my own machines go off. I quickly transfer the damp clothes into two dryers and mumble an excuse about needing to make a call upstairs. He doesn’t even turn to say goodbye, so I enter the elevator silently, hating myself for how pathetic I act whenever I’m around him. I couldn’t possibly sit with him for another hour, knowing that my attraction and feelings will never be reciprocated.

Oh well, at least I have my fantasies to keep me occupied until next Monday.

===================================

Damn, the things that girl does to me.

I don’t think she really knows how long I’ve been crushin’ on her, although I make it pretty damn obvious. I fucking sit in that laundry room every week just to get the chance to see and talk to her. And yet she still shows no sign of any interest whatsoever. What kind of heterosexual adult male washes his clothes every week during Monday Night Football? Every week, I tell myself I’m going to just stay in, order a pizza and watch the game. But by the time 7:15 rolls around, I’m walking down the hall with my laundry bag over my shoulder, trekking my way down to that damn room. I can’t help it.

It’s almost like I need to see her so that my week starts off right. Once, I couldn’t go meet her because I had to take my best friend Trace to the airport, and I was in a funk for the rest of the week. She’s constantly on my mind, and I have no idea how to stop it. All I see when I’m in class, is her. Her long, dark brown hair that looks so damn silky, I have to literally keep my hands occupied when I’m around her, or I’ll reach out to touch her. Or her light brown eyes that remind me of honey whenever she looks at me.

Just the thought of her gazing up at me with those brown eyes, with my cock in her mouth gets me hard, and I’m left with a hard-on for the rest of the day until I can properly fix the problem after I get home. It’s so humiliating, and I’m really scared a teacher is going to notice one day and get the wrong impression. Ever since she’s moved in, I’ve tried to find a way to get her to go out with me, but every time I try, I choke and just babble on about music to her. She must think I’m the biggest nerd.

But tonight was different. Tonight, I was in my zone and I finally got her to come out with me. Okay, so I never said it was going to be a date, but it’s pretty obvious. I mean, I made plans with her for two nights in a row. No guy would want to hang out with a girl two nights in a row unless he was trying to get into her pants. Which isn’t my only goal, but come on…I’m a single red-blooded male who hasn’t gotten laid in months. I’m allowed to want to get her in bed.

And boy do I want to. I feel like such a sick pervert when I’m around her. All I do is stare at her perfectly rounded ass, long lean legs, and pert tits. I’m surprised she hasn’t filed some sort of warrant on me for sexual harassment. Especially after tonight, because she was looking mighty fine. She was wearing this really thin white tank-top that showed off her tan, and I swear I could see her nipples through the shirt when some of the condensation on her beer dropped onto her chest and slid down her cleavage. Not that I noticed that or anything…

But back to the main point…she was wearing her little pajama shorts that she usually wears on laundry day, and all I could think about was her legs wrapped around me as I fucking pounded into her like there was no tomorrow, making her scream and moan my name. I bet she’s a screamer. I bet she likes it dirty too. At first glance, she looks like an innocent, girl-next-door type…but I know Ellie. And I know that under that façade, she’s a tough girl. She used to talk to me about her childhood growing up with an alcoholic father and a mother who was too depressed to take care of her own children. Ellie had to pretty much raise her and her sister by herself, and she went through a lot to get to where she is today. And I really admire that.

That’s one of the things that I love about her. Not only is she a fucking beauty, she has the brains too. She worked through high school and got a scholarship to go to UNC, and worked her pretty little butt off so that she could graduate early. Then she went straight to New York and found a job working at a PR firm, where she was then given the opportunity to manage a really popular nightclub and then another one by the same owner. I have no idea why she came back to Memphis, but I have a feeling it has to do with an ex-boyfriend.

I seem to have blabbered on about her again. Anyways, back to tonight. It was the first time I had seen her so relaxed around me because she’s been pretty stressed out about work, so she was being all flirty with me. And for the first time in the five months I’ve known her, I actually thought there was a chance she liked me back. I’m not sure what it was, but there was just a different energy about her tonight, and that’s what gave me the confidence to finally ask her out. And then I showed her my little demo song I recorded with Bryce, just because of all the people I’ve played it for, her opinion means the most to me.

The way her face lit up and she got all excited for me, god, I just wanted to kiss her so badly. And then, of course, the thought of making out with her got me a little excited and I got kind of aroused…and I had to hide that from her so I pretended to go occupy myself by getting the laundry out. But before I could turn around again after calming myself down, she was gone.

And so I went back up to my apartment while my clothes dried, and prayed that when I went down to get them; she would be getting her clothes too. But now I’m just left here in the dimly lit laundry room, getting my dry clothes an hour later because my mom called and I missed my chance to see Ellie again. I sigh as I finish folding my clothes and shove them into my bag. As I’m walking to the elevator, I see something pink in the corner of my eyes and I can literally feel my hopes rising when I realize that Ellie must have dropped her bra on her way out, because there’s a lacy pink bra hanging off of the chair next to the table. I consider maybe just leaving it, because it would be kind of embarrassing to show up at her place with her underwear…but then the thought of seeing her kind of trumps embarrassment, so I grab it and literally bolt up the stairwell instead of waiting for the elevator. I’m panting when I get onto the third floor landing, so I stop and take a deep breath before entering the hallway. I live on the fifth floor, but all of the hallways look exactly the same, so I know my way around as I walk down to Ellie’s door.

I smile when I can hear The Eagles blasting through the door and knock loudly, hoping she can hear over the music. The door swings open, and there she is in all of her beautiful glory. She gives me this surprised smile when her eyes land on me and she pulls the door open wider.

“Justin!” she greets me, tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear as she gives me a curious look. “What are you doing here?”

“Um…I came to return this,” I stutter, holding up her bra as it dangles off of my pointer finger. I try to contain my smile when I see her cheeks redden and she blushes, snatching the piece of clothing out of my hands as she smacks her palm onto her forehead. “I think you left it downstairs.”

“Oh my god, that’s embarrassing,” she laughs.

“I just…thought I should return it to you before that creepy guy on the second floor finds it,” I shrug as she hides her face from me, continuing to laugh at herself. Her hands drop and she continues to smile as she nods her head at me.

“Well thank you for returning it. I couldn’t be more of a ditz,” she rolls her eyes, truly embarrassed as she nibbles on her bottom lip shyly.

“It was my pleasure. Well…I’m sorry for disturbing your night. I didn’t realize how late it was,” I cover up, trying to find any excuse to stand with her for a few extra seconds. She just smiles as she shakes her head, her eyes lighting up when I hear beeping coming from behind her.

She turns her head and kind of stares down at the floor for a few seconds, obviously trying to figure out a way to get rid of me. Before I can mutter another apology and scurry away, she turns around and points over her shoulder. “I was actually just making dinner…are you hungry?”

I nod my head, not trusting my voice to speak because my heart is literally bursting with happiness when she steps inside and lets me in. I spot a wine glass on the table and see that a quarter of it has already been emptied. She tells me to make myself comfortable, so I wander into the little living room area and investigate the wall of pictures that she’s posted it. I haven’t been in her apartment in a few weeks, and I notice that she’s done a lot of decorating since she’s moved in. There are a lot of pictures with her and another woman who looks like a younger version of her, and I smile when I see how happy she looks in all of them.

“Is this your sister?” I ask and turn towards the kitchen. I see her plating rice and chicken, and my stomach starts grumbling as I walk over to her. She looks up and smiles, nodding her head as she hands me a plate.

“Yeah. That’s Audrey. I’ve told you about her before, right?” I nod and follow her to the dining table, taking my place across from her. I don’t think I’ve ever been more comfortable around another woman before. She just has a way of making me feel so calm and relaxed. I can actually imagine what it would be like to marry this girl, and she’s not even mine. How fucked up is that?

We talk about almost everything possible over dinner; work, music, family and even gossip about our neighbors. I don’t think I’ve ever had more fun over a meal before, and before I know it, the dishes are washed and it’s already 11:30 at night. She sees me to the door and leans against it as I hover in the threshold, not wanting to end the night.

“So…thanks for dinner, Ellie. It was delicious. I don’t think I’ve had a proper home cooked meal since my mom was visiting over Thanksgiving,” I chuckle, searching for some sort of sign from her that I’m allowed to just give her a kiss goodnight. That’s all I want.

“Seriously?” she shakes her head, obviously disappointed in my poor nutrition. “My door’s always open Justin…just come anytime. I’m always willing…” her eyes widen when she realizes what she’s said, and her eyes dart down to her feet. “Well…you know…willing to cook for you. When you’re hungry…well…yeah.”

God, even when she stutters she’s cute. “Yeah, I get it.” I laugh as she shakes her head again and looks up at me.

“I obviously had more to drink than I thought,” she jokes. I nod and smile when I see her yawn behind her hand.

“Well…it’s late now. I should go,” I rock back on my heels, stuffing my hands into my pockets. “Thanks again. For dinner.”

“No problem. Thanks for returning my laundry. That’s my favorite bra,” she admits with a shy smile. I’m about to make a dirty comment but then the phone rings and she turns her head before I could make any move to kiss her. Damn it.

“I’ll see you later,” I say before walking through the door and pulling it shut. Could I be more of a pussy? I had the chance to finally make my move, and I let it slip through my fingers. Trace is going to rip a new one into me when I tell him about this, which I will because I need someone to talk to. I’m always running to him and venting about her, and he always just laughs at how hung up I am on this girl.

Sometimes I just hate feeling the way I do about her.