Warnings: Slash, language, sex [in later chapters].

Disclaimer: See chapter one.

Feedback: Please.

AN: JC is Jake [Jaisyn only refers to him as JC until he hears Justin call him Jake]. Asphalt is: Jakob Walker, Nathen Williamson, Matt Kelson, Justin Walker, and Erik James.


ask me tomorrow about our sales


You know, I have got to train myself to deal with celebrities and learn how to get past the first impressions because this whole freak out when a band or someone closely standing near my fan-base chooses to visit the store is getting kind of old. I do it every time it happens and I hate it. I hate freaking out. It can be a bad thing. This of course, is not a bad thing; it's just an uncomfortable thing. Sort of. Considering… Never mind. It's too much to hope for.

Anyway, the interrupting laugh? I know it. The eyes? Know those too. All body functions and features belong to Justin Walker of Asphalt, the band that is currently standing in my store. I suddenly feel almost giddy. Ugh. Nonetheless, I will remain composed but just I have to say once more: holy fuck. Okay, good, got that entire 'fan' shit out of my system.

Calmly plastering on a mask of indifference, I stood, stretching my arms above my head as I yawned quietly. Now, that surprised me, considering how much caffeine I've had today. Biting back a smile, I shook away the thought, focusing instead on the new customers. I have to slip into my good little helper mode. I've got to earn that paycheck because college can't pay for itself.

"Can I help you with anything?"

"No." Justin shook his head, flashing me a wide, almost cheesy grin. "We're just checking the place out."

I shrugged, silently pleased that I didn't have to go search out an obscure album or instrument. "Okay."

Now, that wasn't so hard. Good. Yawning once more, I turned away from him, barely registering the identity of the three men behind him, padding in bare feet back to my post behind the counter. With a heavy sigh, I sank into my incredibly comfy custom-made spinney chair, my fingers instantly beginning to tap out a quick, nervous rhythm on the glass counter. Sensing the hesitation of the group, I looked up, wondering. Another question nearly passed my lips but it caught when I finally acknowledged the presence of the other three patrons. Besides Justin, the group consisted of his mirror image but incredibly different twin brother and lead singer of the band, JC Walker; the eldest member and self-proclaimed producer, Erik James, and…oh shit. Oh. Shit.

I looked away, my heart once again beginning its staccato rhythm. Before, when I just noticed Justin, I was taken aback. That's all. But this new situation is different. Very different.

The small crowd of four at the entrance of the store spread out, each person heading off into a different section. JC and Justin began to examine the racks of CDs and tapes; he sauntered past me towards the back, stopping to inspect the guitars set up along the wall; Erik wandered throughout the whole store, drinking everything in. I was deeply aware that he did not notice me but what did I expect? Nothing. And that's just what I got.

As they silently looked around the store, I focused on trying to look busy and I was failing miserably at it. Why? Well, I think I can conjure a damn good reason for my inability to work at this moment in time. In this great big world, only a few things can knock me off track and throw me for a loop and one of those little things just happens to be the man who is now perusing the guitars hanging along the back wall. I am screwed, most undeniably screwed. I guess.

Want to know the skeleton I hide away in my closet? It's not bad or anything, at least, I don't think it is. It's just that…I have a crush on Nathen Williamson, the lead guitarist of my almost-but-not-quite-favorite band. There. I said it. Sort of, I suppose, since no one heard me 'say' it but it should count as something.

Now, I will be brave and admit that this isn't just a normal little crush. Nope. It ceased to be that when he slipped into my dreams and began to do unholy things to me, which became a whole other embarrassment level in itself, especially when one lives with the horny twins. Believe me when I say that there are only so many excuses one can come up with to explain why the laundry has to be done at four o'clock in the morning. I'm on excuse number sixty-two, I think. When I'm awake though, the guy makes wonderful masturbation material, perfect for my fantasies: fantasies that involve skin and a lot of chocolate body paint. Oh yeah… I shook my head. Okay, must stop that train before it's gets to the station. Now.

Subtly clearing my throat and checking to make sure that no one would notice, I studied the man of my thoughts and imaginations, memorizing the moment to replay again when it gets dark and the unholy things from the night before didn't do it for me.

His clothing was simple, not attracting much attention. At least, attention from people besides me. He was dressed in loose fitting, low rider blue jeans, black and white Adidas sneakers and a light blue t-shirt with a logo for Justin's clothing company, slick juice, emblazoned in red across the front. I know that he also happens to model for the steadily growing company but you didn't hear that from me. Nope, I'm not the one that has almost every advertisement tucked away in an envelope in a box in my closet.

I snorted quietly, shifting my gaze from Nathen as I reached underneath the counter and pulled out my sketchbook, opening the book to a blank piece of paper. I retrieved a pencil from an old coffee mug beside the register and pressed the tip to the paper, unsure of what to draw. As I thought, my gaze drifted and once more landed on my unspoken passion.

Underneath all his clothes, his body type isn't what some people would find attractive. Some may think him too skinny or too wiry but I think he's beautiful. My judgment is somewhat based on the account that he doesn't give a damn about other people's opinion's concerning his body. The gloriously naked photo of him on the cover of Rolling Stone is a testament to that thought. Of course, I only saved that copy because an article concerning the store was in it. Yeah.

I took a deep shuddering breath, looking away yet again. Biting back a wince, I forced myself to calm down and think non-naked thoughts, thoughts that didn't involve chocolate and most importantly, thoughts that didn't include him. After a few minutes of watching my twisting hands nearly break my pencil, I was comfortable enough to look upon him once more without worrying about certain body functions…appearing.

While I was panicking and forcing my blood to change directions, he had moved from the guitars to a display rack of sheet music next to the counter, fingering a few of the papers as he listened to Erik describe an apparently "great" album. As his description became more detailed, Nathen's laugh echoed throughout the quiet store and Erik realized that his audience wasn't being very attentive so he placed the album back in the rack and walked to the other side of the store, his pout clearly evident. Nathen watched him go, his face turning ever so slightly so I could see his smile.

His features could be described as chiseled, I guess. High cheekbones, intensely full lips, and I think the eyebrow piercing actually accents his eyes very nicely. His hair hangs constantly in his face, the red-blond locks continuously being pushed back behind an ear with a long fingered hand. At one time the style was probably the punk cut that everyone seems to be getting nowadays but he has allowed it to grow out into a style that is all his own and I must say he wears it pretty damn well. Like I said before, he's beautiful. In a very masculine sort of way. If he hadn't come out last year, I wouldn't know that he was gay and my gaydar is ultra-sensitive.

But, despite what some may think, his eyes are what draw me to him. His eyes are haunting, so ghostly in an unspeaking kind of way. A dark, intoxicating green that stares through you, telling things words could never describe and motions could never feel. Well, that's just what I think and I don't think that amounts to much.

A loud angry voice jolted me from my thoughts. As I looked away from Nathen and shut down my emotions, I became aware of JC and Justin, who seemed to be caught up in a battle over what appeared to be a vinyl record of Elvis Presley: Live from Hawaii. Erik and Nathen were quietly shifting away from the arguing brothers, openly embarrassed by the sibling squabble. I smiled faintly, sympathizing. Kayne and Abe can act immature as well, almost always in public. Shaking my head, I chose the exact moment before they attacked each other to speak up.

"There's another in the back. I mean, if you both want it that bad…"

Startled, Justin shook his head, glancing at me before returning his attention back to his older brother. "I don't want it but he doesn't need it."

"But," JC pulled the plastic-enclosed record from his brother's grasp with a final sharp tug, backing away from Justin with his treasured prize, a glare marring his features, "I don't have this one."


"I. Don't. Have. This. One."

Justin sighed, holding his hands up in surrender. "Fine."

His brother smiled, letting out a soft victory chuckle. "You know, I was going to get it anyway, no matter what you said."

"I know."

I silently watched as they separated, noticing the subtle tension between the brothers. Must be a little bit more than a sibling squabble and I guess JC or Jake, whatever the hell he wants to be called, really likes Elvis.

"It's a good album."

Jake turned and looked at me, eying me closely. "I know."

There was something in his gaze that I didn't like, something…hidden yet fully revealed. It made me feel small and I squirmed in my seat. Shifting my focus from him, I gazed around the store, suddenly noticing the absence of two people. I frowned. Now, wait a fucking second… Where in the hell are Kayne and Abe? Usually, they end up trying to kill each other in order to get out here when they hear the frog; certain that the next customer is a hot chick that they "know" will want them. The frog did its part of the job so why aren't they out here checking out the 'girls'? Hmm. Note to self: hurt best friends later.

Shaking my head, I watched as Justin approached Nathen and whispered something in his ear. Nathen, once Justin had backed away, turned to look at me, his green eyes making contact with mine. I froze; shocked that he would even notice little insignificant me. I returned the stare for only a moment before looking away, focusing my attention on the open sketchbook before me, idly drawing little designs on the crisp white paper with my chewed-to-bits pencil. My little doodle of a dog soon became some sort of gargoyle as I sat in silence, drawing, hardly registering the soft sounds made by the four customers.

Scuffing feet brought me out of my reverie and I looked up, jumping slightly at the sight of Nathen Williamson standing before me. He smiled, laughing quietly at my most likely startled expression. I frowned, not finding the moment funny at all. I don't like it when people scare me. Kayne likes to do it a lot thus putting him high up on my 'must hurt badly' list. Still frowning, I shook my head.

"Don't sneak up on me like that."

He shrugged a shoulder. "Sorry."

I waved off the apology, marking my place in my sketchbook with my pencil before closing the pad and tucking it away under the counter. Smoothing my hair and taking a deep breath, I focused my attentions on the man standing on the other side of the counter.

"Can I help you with anything?"

He motioned towards the back of the store with his head, hands shoved in his pockets. "Those all you got?"

"No," I glanced at the display of guitars he indicated, "We've got more locked up in the back."

"Can I see them?"

"Yeah," I got up out of my seat as I reached under the register to grab the storage room key, "Can I bring one out? I mean, if you're searching for one in particular…"

"No, I want to see them all." He pounded lightly on the counter with a clenched fist. "I want to see what you've got."


I took a few steps towards the back but paused, turning towards Nathen with a prepared question. "Are—"

A cutting voice interrupted me. "Wow, Nathen. You're really stooping low this time. Not exactly high class."

I grimaced slightly as a bark of laughter floated throughout the store, following the comment that came from across the room; the area occupied by Jake. Ignoring Nathen, I turned to look at him, my blood running hot at the sight of his smug expression. Regardless of how much trouble I knew I could get myself into by speaking, my mouth betrayed me anyway.

"Compared to you, I'm the fucking Queen of England."

Jake froze, eyes blazing with an emotion that could only be described as something approaching anger. "Is that so? And how do you come to that assessment? You don't know me."

"True. I don't know you but I know your type."

He stepped closer as Nathen backed away from the counter. Nathen's eyes remained focused on me instead of switching his attentions to his livid band mate. "And what exactly, is my type? Since you seem to be so knowledgeable on this subject."

I shrugged, silently screaming at myself to shut up. "Egotistical bastard, always used to getting exactly what you want, even if it involves spending a hell of a lot of time on your knees before some prick who wants to help you get ahead in this fucked up world, and let's not forget the strange tendencies that involve overcompensating for something you can't even admit to yourself."

A little bit of my not-so-smart comment was an add-on to an almost career ending rumor that started last year, a lie passed along through internet communities and websites but judging by the way his face is slowly turning purple, I'd say I just struck a cord, rumor or not.

"But I don't think I just described your type per se; I think I just described you in general." I smiled sweetly, ignoring the little voice that was telling how much shit I just gotten myself into. "How did I do?"

"You fucking bastard."

He lunged in my direction but got no closer to me than a few feet, his arm caught by Nathen, who whispered something in his ear as he held onto his band mate's arm with a white knuckled grip. Jake's glare remained focused on me, his jaw clenching tighter as Nathen uttered words that had to feed the fire in the former because, from what I could tell, his anger wasn't fading one little bit.

Stupidly rolling my eyes, I stepped out from behind the counter, heading to the back, acutely aware that the remaining two members of the band were watching my every move, some form of anger in their eyes yet they did nothing, not even Justin. Frowning a bit at the notion that a brother would not defend his own blood, I shrugged. I guess they're not as close as some believe. Oh well. It's just one less guy to kick my ass. I continued to ignore the angry hushed voices behind me as I disappeared behind the curtain of beads separating the main store from the back. Once out of sight, I threw the keys onto a table, watching as they skittered across the surface and fell to the floor.


I was disappointed with myself. Usually, I don't anger so easily but this instance is just like so many before it: situations that make me feel disgusted, dirty, and most of all, outraged. In my mind, I know it's just a comment and a laugh and I face it nearly everyday but still, it makes my stomach burn. I absolutely hate it when people twist words around and use them in their favor just to hurt others. I sighed, rubbing my face with my hands. I guess every rumor was right; Jake is a bastard, a complete and utter bastard that I just pissed off. I laughed suddenly, a hand still covering my eyes.

"I just pissed off a man who is known throughout the record industry for his enormously hot temper."

For some reason, speaking that statement made me laugh harder and before I knew what hit me, I was sitting on the floor of the backroom in hysterics and laughing so hard I could barely catch my breath. A swish of plastic strings and Nathen appeared beside me, most likely wondering what in the hell bit me for I know I had tears streaming down my cheeks. First I piss off his friend and now I'm laughing about it. God, I'm crazy. I heard him sigh as he crouched down next to me, a crooked smile on his lips.

"Are you okay?"

I shook my head, another bubble of laughter floating out of me. I hugged my knees against my chest as I leaned against the wall, still laughing quietly as I struggled to bring myself under some sort of mental control.

Nathen agreed, chuckling softly. "No, you're not okay."

Breathing hard, I nodded as I wiped my cheeks dry with my fingers. "Oh god, I haven't laughed this hard in months."

"Well," he sat down on the carpeted floor beside me, his long legs stretched out before him as he waited for my giggle fit to end, "I don't know why you find it all so funny."

"I don't know either." I took a deep breath, calming myself enough to look at the man sitting next to me. He was studying me intently, his hands resting in his lap, his eyes giving away his silent laughter. So, he found it funny as well. Fascinating. "I really pissed him off, didn't I?"

"You did."

"Yeah, that's what I figured."

"And you figured that out now? Between all the laughing?"

"Yeah." I sighed quietly, reaching up to untie my hair, wincing as I tugged at the rubber band. A few muffled curses later, my hair was free and the tie was around my wrist, allowing the long strands to drape around my shoulders. "I shouldn't have said that."

"He's had it coming for awhile." He glanced at me, watching as I combed my fingers through the tough locks. He licked his lips, a tongue stud visible as he did so. "He's a prick."

"Are you defending him? Making his apologies?"

"No. He can do all that shit himself. He should…"

I flicked my rubber band across the room, cringing as it smacked into the wall with a loud snap. "But I have a feeling he won't."

Sighing quietly, he picked at a broken nail, not meeting my gaze. "He never apologizes."

"You know, he doesn't strike me as the apologizing type." I glanced around the room before returning my attention to Nathen, hoping that he would allow me to change the subject. "Since you're back here, do you still want to see the guitars we carry?"

He shook his head as he glanced at his watch. "No, I've got to be at the studio in ten minutes. I just had some free time, thought I'd see…"

I smirked, wrapping my arms around my legs and resting my cheek against my knee. "Truth be told, I'm actually kind of glad you don't want to see them because that would mean I would have to dig through the storage room and I really don't want to do that."

"Is it a little unorganized?"

"Little is such a small word."

He smiled, shifting his legs so his elbows rested upon his bent knees. "I see."

"I'm supposed to clean it out next week but—"

Before I could say anything else, Kayne appeared in the room, his keys in hand and an expression of uncertainty on his face. He paused and turned to look at the two of us, frowning at our seated figures. I waved as Nathen raised a pierced eyebrow; Kayne just continued to look confused.

"He acts as if he hasn't seen people before."

"People confuse him."

Nathen smiled, his body shifting ever so slightly closer to mine. It was a small, miniscule distance but I still felt the movement. My heart fluttered in my chest, beating rapidly against my ribcage. Begging myself to be calm, I took a deep breath, doing so as best I could but a trace of Nathen's scent smacked me hard in the face and blew that notion right out the window. Goddamn, he smells good. I tucked the aroma away in my mind, cataloguing the differences. I sensed the usual male scent, flavored with a hint of peaches. An interesting combination. I suddenly wondered what his skin would taste like. Peachy or salty? Probably salty, like he just finished a set and I was waiting for him backstage with a towel, prepared to congratulate him on a job well done… Lost in my fantasy, I faintly registered that he was saying something.


I frowned, pulling away from my sinfully delicious thoughts. "What?"

Nathen turned to gaze at me, eyebrow arched. "I said he seems mystified."

Eyes still locked with Nathen's, I nodded slowly before turning my attention back to my best friend. "Oh."

Kayne's scowl deepened, a pout forming on his lips. "I'm not mystified."

"Sure." I smiled, tilting my head towards Nathen as I changed the subject. "Are you leaving now?"

He nodded. "Yeah, I'm setting up tonight and I have to get my shit together before Abe gets back from wherever the hell he went to. Then we're going to head to the club."

"Abe's helping you set up?"

He nodded and I watched with amusement as his eyes slowly glazed over: he sensed his upcoming doom. He of all people should know that Abe can be a bit lazy.

"Then nothing will get done. But, could you do me a favor before you go?"

He cleared his throat, jumping out of what was probably his own little self-made horror flick. "What is it this time?"

I stretched my legs out, flexing my feet and pointing my toes. "Ah, that feels good…um, anyway, I kind of pissed off a customer so you need to get out there and make sure he doesn't walk off with Elvis."

He arched an eyebrow. "You pissed off a customer? Again?"

"Not intentionally."

Nathen raised a hand, a smile on his lips. "Actually, I believe it was intentional."

"Well, I just…he…damn."

His smile vanished, his expression softening into a gaze of someone who understands. "Don't let him get to you."

I shrugged, focusing on my hands instead of the man next to me. "I know, but I said some shitty things to him."

Kayne spoke up, stepping closer to our seated figures. "What did you say, Jaisyn? And who did you piss off?"

"Nothing. No one."

He nodded once, accepting the fact that I would tell him when I wanted to. "I see."

Nathen sighed, his voice soft as he spoke, as if he didn't want anyone else to hear but me. "With Jake, it's just…he can make life hell for anybody. We've all gotten used to it but it's getting old. But I will tell you this much: you've got a monster set of balls, kid. You said something to him that myself and the rest of the guys don't dare to do based on the fact that he basically does control our careers."

"How does he control your career?"

A smirk appeared, replacing the kind expression. "Jake has bad knees."

"What?" I shook my head slowly, not really understanding. "I don't…"

Nathen winked.



"I'm not really proud of it."

"No offense, but you shouldn't be."

"I know."

I was then I realized how close we actually were, our faces separated by inches of thin air, eyes locked. Instinctively, I backed off, looking away and once again noticing Kayne, who wore an expression of a cat who had just caught the fucking canary. I swallowed hard, glancing at Nathen.


Kayne chose that moment to save me from a situation that could've become very embarrassing for me. "You pissed off Jakob Walker?"

Nathen nodded as I continued to sit in silence, my heart racing. He was inches…

"Interesting, Jay." Kayne gaze shifted from me to Nathen. "And you're not kicking his ass because of it?"

"I would've if I liked Jake as much as I claim to."

Snapped out of my silence, I looked at Nathen, eyebrows raised in wonder. "Do I sense some tension in the Asphalt ranks?"

He tapped the tip of his nose. "Shh. It's a secret."

"I'll see to the pissed off customer and then I'll get to the club." Kayne glanced at his watch, twirling his keys around a finger. "See you tonight, Jay."

"Bye, Kayne."

With a final wave, he slipped through the bead curtain, the strands clacking together noisily in his wake. Once he was gone, Nathen turned to me.

"I think I like him."

I laughed, acutely aware that it came out as a choked sound. I narrowly avoided screaming that 'he's straight and I'm gay, you're gay and wouldn't iwe/i make a nice couple?' No, I shouldn't even be thinking about it because the more I do, the closer I'll come to actually saying it and my big fat mouth already got me into enough trouble today. So I'll just keep quiet, thank you.

I glanced at Nathen, forcing a smile. "What's not to like about Kayne Emerson?"

"He a friend? Or…"

I shook my head, refusing to answer the hopeful scream my body was emitting. "He's my best friend. Well, one of them actually. Abe, his twin brother, is the other. The three of us own this place."

"You own this store?"

I sensed his attentiveness on the subject and it made me smile. "Mm-hmm."

"I've always wanted to do something like this but I've never gotten around to it, probably never will. I guess my lot in life is to make music, not sell it."

"Well, I do a bit of both so it is possible."

"Oh really? What do you play?"

"Basically everything but guitar mostly."


I made a face. "Acoustic."

Laughing quietly, he bumped me with his shoulder, setting my skin aflame at the contact. "Hey, look at who you're talking to. Why don't you like the electric?"

"I just don't like the sound. At least, when I play it." I tugged at a strand of hair, avoiding his gaze. "You, on the other hand, can make my toes tingle."

My eyes went wide. Oh my god, I just said that? Out loud? Bravo, I did it again. Somehow, I met his gaze, my cheeks hot.


Waving a hand to cut me off, he smiled wickedly, his attention now focused fully and completely on me and my pink cheeks. "I make your toes tingle?"

I flushed a deeper shade of crimson, focusing intently on the hair being twisted roughly by my fingers. "Yeah, well, you're good. Great. And I like your voice, too. Very…raw."

"Thank you." His smile softened; the expression gentle. "Do you sing as well?"

"A little. I play at the café upstairs every now and then or whenever Abe's cursed begging forces me to do it."

"You any good? Wait, better question: do you think you're good?"

I shrugged, releasing my hair and idly picking at a loose thread of my jeans. "Some people think I am. I'm not sure about my take on it though."

He gazed at me, eyes revealing a secret emotion, his head tilted to the side. "I'll have to hear you sing sometime, give my own opinion."

Blushing faintly, I turned my head to stare at a faded flyer across the room. My reply was a whispered, "Okay."

"Okay." He shifted, turning until he was facing me, his legs drawn up beneath him. "So, what club was Kayne talking about? I'm in need of a night out."

"A club a few blocks from here. He's playing tomorrow night."


"He's a DJ."

"Oh." He nodded, eyebrows raised. "He any good?"

"I guess." I laughed softly. "Of course, I knew him when he sucked so anything better than that is great. Fantastically great."

"I'll bet." Suddenly, his gaze darkened, eyes glazing over slightly. "Will you be there?"

I shrugged, shakily keeping eye contact. "Maybe. Depends on what happens between now and tomorrow night."

He nodded, glancing around the small room before looking back at me, eyes shimmering through a curtain of red-blond hair. "It's Jaisyn, right?"

"Yeah. Jaisyn Walker." I laughed quietly at his strange expression. "No relation."

"I wasn't going to ask. Anyway, you're too sweet to be a Walker-Walker." He held out his hand, a small smile stretching his lips. "Nathen Williamson. But I think you already know that."

I took his hand, well aware of the roughness of his skin yet shivering nonetheless. He said I was sweet. Sweet. Oh. My. God. My insides began to flip and flop beneath my skin as I tried to form some form of coherent reply and keep an acceptable smile at the same time. I hoped he didn't notice my discomfort. My reaction to his most likely meaningless words is something I don't think I could explain easily right now. I wouldn't have the vocabulary.

"Yeah, I do."

A head popped through the bead curtain and I recognized the face of Erik, Nathen's best friend. At least, that's what the band's website says. How much accuracy that holds, I don't know but considering what I just found out, I'll take it as the truth.

"Hey, Nate? We got to go. Apparently, the cashier guy pissed Jake off."

"Yeah, yeah. I'm coming, Blue."

The head disappeared and Nathen turned back to me, shoulders slumped. "Well, I have to go."

Ignoring my hurts, I smiled. "I figured that since he just said you had to."

He laughed quietly as he glanced down at our still entwined hands. Too stunned to speak, I watched as his thumb slowly caressed my knuckles once. I let out a breath I wasn't aware that I had been holding and he looked up at me, an apparent question on his lips…but his expression changed when he captured my gaze. He smiled faintly.

"I have to go."

"Oh. I…" I blushed, slowly tugging my hand from his wonderfully reluctant, rough grip. "Sorry."

"It's okay." Sighing loudly, he stood up and brushed invisible dirt off of his jeans before focusing again on me. "So, you're going to be there?"

I shrugged, gazing up at him from my place on the floor, acutely aware of what exactly I was near eye-level with. Thoughts please stop going there.


Hesitantly, he reached out, gently fingering a strand of my hair. "Is that the best answer you will give me?"


"Then I guess it will have to do." He slipped the lock along his fingers, green eyes never leaving my seated figure. "See you around, Jaisyn."

"Bye, Nathen."

Without another word, he was gone, the bead curtain swaying raucously. Holy…fuck. He… If I could scream, I would. Biting my lip ring, I reached up and tugged at the same strand of hair his fingers had so recently touched…and almost did scream as the frog began its annoying lullaby.

I have a feeling that Friday night will not come fast enough, no matter how fast I wish time to fly.

And he… We… I never thought I would say this considering how I think about him, but I was comfortable around him, I was at ease. Except, of course, for the moments when my mouth functioned without the use of my brain. Other than that, I felt fine. How he felt around me though, I don't know. But he touched me. And it wasn't just a fleeting accidental touch either. He touched me. Good God, I am never washing my hand again.

"Jaisyn! Get your ass out here and man this store! Now!"

Sighing, I forced myself to stand up on rubbery legs and walk back out to my place behind the counter, waving to Kayne as he left through the front door. I noticed that Nathen and his friends were gone and I tried hard to ignore the faint fluttering of hope in my chest, the faint realization that he might've liked me. Yet I don't plan to get myself worked up over this and I'm not going to, no matter how much I want to grab onto that little ray of hope and never let go.

I sighed softly as I sank into my spinney chair, eyes perusing the store in search of anything to occupy my mind and force my thoughts away from the man who just walked out. God, I make it sound as if he just left me or something of that nature. I chuckled, spinning around to gaze up at the various advertisements on the bulletin board. How desperate am I? Very.

But hey, he touched me and my eye stopped twitching. That should mean something, shouldn't it?

to be continued…