Rule number one of being a Boss-ass Bitch:

Never let a person see you cry.

We'll have to skip that one because everyone knows I am a huge crybaby. I need to bawl my eyes out four times a week, religiously, to replenish my juices. The first time I watched The Notebook, in eight grade, I cried so much I was on the verge of passing out from dehydration.

Rule number two of being a Boss-ass Bitch:

Never let people see you at your weakest vantage point.

This is a really tough one for me because I wear my heart on my sleeves and I am an emotional wreck; open for business all hours of the day.

And this rule is getting extremely hard for me to follow since Aaron, of all people, decided to pull an Ashton Kutcher from No Strings Attached on me, by bringing me ice cream and burgers and his amazing self. Although I think the burger was more for himself, since I kid you not, he finished it in record time.

Francis! My heart and my soul! He died, and from a head injury for fuck's sake! I hate scientists for not being there when they were actually needed. Would it kill people to have a time-traveling machine, what does it take to make one? I will do it! I will save my soulmate, Francis from such a measly death

So technically, if I go by the rules, I am not a Boss-ass Bitch anymore, but I think everyone knows the correct answer to that so I will focus on the more pressing issue; Aaron Richards.

The one who's flashing me his oh-i-know-i-am-too-hot-for-my-own-good smile, "So catch me up on what happened in the show!"

"You need to leave." I blurt out before I convince myself he can stay.

His smile falters a bit but he keeps it intact still, "Why is that?"

"You need to go," I blurt out, "Seriously, you'll be bored."

He tilts his head back and groans an audible sigh, "Can you please just tell me what's happening in the show right now? I am not going anywhere, I am staying with you."

I shouldn't have allowed him in, it's a big mistake. I can't let him see me like this, I am a mess right now. More importantly, why is he here? and who brings ice cream? Everyone knows that's boyfriend level task and I hate Aaron. He's annoying and gets on my nerve and has a stupid smile, which he is flaunting my way right now and I am losing brain cells trying to decipher the meaning behind this situation.

I hate it, I hate feeling like this, can't a girl just mourn the death of her husband peacefully?

"Why are you here?" I grunt.

"Because I wanted to be."

"You're not really going to leave, are you?" I sigh.

"Nope," he leans over to flick my nose.

"Fine, then brace yourself," I say through gritted teeth.

For the next ten minutes, I go over the whole of Reign and tell him again and again how much Francis was wronged and how much I hate that stupid, fucking home-wrecker Conde. Not once does he look bored or amused and in any way highly entertained by what I am saying or even tries to make fun of me, which is highly impressive, I must admit.

Whenever I talk to Ellie about it she says only one thing:

"Alex, I love you but I really need a strong, dark coffee after the headache you just gave me."

"Now that it's over, do you really need a reason to leave?" I ask dryly, "Go home and fuck someone I guess."

He throws his head back and laughs, a genuine and deep laugh that seeps through my core. This is concerning. "I know you think I like to be all bad and broody and charm girls into my bed, but I do not."

"Really?" sarcasm is dripping from my voice, and I hope he notices it, "So you totally don't have an active sex life and you're just a goodie-two-shoes?"

"Well," he gulps, "I wouldn't say that..."

I snort, "Keep the lies to yourself, I know you won the boytoy draft, that's how you got the nickname 'hotshot boytoy'."

His face loses color and his eyes bulge out of his sockets; I smirk at his mouth which is hanging  so far below, it'll probably unhinge itself.

"How do you know about that?" he leans forward towards me and I can smell his sandalwood cologne and a vivid image of what happened in the book store pops up in my mind.

I still remember the way my body reacted under his proximity and I am not too eager to relive that moment, even if it was nothing like I had experienced before; it's still a bad idea. I am pretty sure walking on fire will also be something like I have never experienced before but that doesn't mean I should try it.

Not that they are anything similar. Being turned on by Aaron's raspy whispers and burning my soles are worlds apart, but I'd do the latter before I allow myself to succumb to the former.

"Relax," I brush it off lightly, "Everyone knows, it just adds to your charm."

"That is a terrible nickname."

"You won. You defeated Logan and Hunter and you won. Twice in a row."

"Gee, thank you for ranking me third in 'Who do I think is the hottest.' "

Not true, he's the hottest, but the knowledge is tucked away safe in my mind under a drawer named 'I'd rather have my limbs chopped off than admit these things out loud.'

"You know they've got it going," is what I say instead.

"Does Ellie know you're crushing on her boyfriend?"

"Gross, no. Logan is like a brother to me, I'd never do it to my best friend!"

"Oh yeah?" Aaron's eyes are twinkling mischievously, "So who would you pick in your draft?"

"You have to pick?"

"You don't know how it works?" I shake my head no, "Alright, there is a fashion show where the audience votes who's the best-"

"Which you won, twice," I interject.

He flashes me a classic grin, "Yes, babydoll."

"Then during the fashion show you also offer money to the one you think is the hottest and would like to spend the night with," he notices my incredulous expression and continues, "Yes you get to spend the night with your favorite, and the money goes to charity a different one in every year."

"That sounds a lot of objectification for you guys."

He shrugs nonchalantly, "No one has ever crossed their limits with us, we are very careful to mention the do's and don't's, and besides the money goes to charity so it's okay with me. And it's voluntary on our part, so not a big deal."

"When's the next one?!" I am bubbling with excitement now. This sounds fun and I knew Logan and Hunter and basically the whole hockey and football team took part in it, but I never exactly knew what happened in it.

"I want to go," I whine as I grab a fistful of his shirt to drive my point home. He's wearing a plain black t-shirt and grey yoga pants; thankfully he's sitting because I am still very aware of how good his legs and ass are looking in those pants. I have always been such a sucker for yoga pants, I probably own a closet full of them.

"Okay," he unclenches my hands from his t-shirt while laughing, "It's next week, you can join."

"I am bringing my friends too!" I announce.

"Obviously," he ruffles my hair and lets his arm, rest on my shoulder, "Now let's continue."

I am hyper-aware of how close we are sitting and it's not good. I am sizzling with nerves and a weird energy sizzles between us. It's going to be a long afternoon, sitting here and watching Reign, when all I can think about is how warm he is and how my right side is pressed up against him and there are only hard muscles and soft fabric that I can feel; add to that his intoxicating cologne, I should ask him which one he uses. I probably smell like a bag of rotten potatoes in comparison to him.

"Are you sure you want to stay?" I ask again and he nods his head yes before he resumes the TV.

"Only one episode," I warn.

Thank god, we are alone right now because I don't want anyone to see how close we are sitting together now; this is embarrassing as hell, and especially after my previous declaration of Aaron as annoying.

Ellie is the only one who can come in and-

Holy shit.

What if Dad comes in? I feel my face losing its color and my head goes slightly dizzy from the fear, which is impractical and irrational, since Dad doesn't even live here, and he's not going to come all the way from Manhattan to Boston without even calling me from before. He's too organized and busy for such impromptu meetings.

But if Dad does come in, then I am going to be skinned alive, or maybe hung in the air and roasted until birds feed on me. He's going to be so angry. I called him yesterday and told him about the grade and not the tutoring thing. I told him I'd handle it, which is probably why I got an 'aww kiddo, you'll do well, don't worry' and not something along the lines of 'you are a disgrace to this family, how could you?'

My head is pulled apart in two different directions, as I try to reason the illogical fear inside me with reason and rationale. Dad's not going to come in, and even he does, he doesn't know what Aaron looks like, I'll make something up. There's literally no reason to be scared.

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