Smack. I nearly jump off my stool when Nadine throws the latest edition of a teen gossip magazine in front of me. "Good morning," I sip my coffee sheepishly, avoiding looking at the cover. I've seen plenty of similar articles all over the internet this morning.

"What's this?" Nadine stands with her hands on her hips, a wet wash rag dampening her apron.

"It's nothing," I shrug, scanning the cafe for any customers in need. Of course, the time I want to avoid a conversation with Nadine, is also the time all our customers are satisfied and smiling. Not that many of them haven't given me the same incredulous look she's giving me now. I knew I'd have to face everyone eventually, I just had been avoiding the thought entirely instead of planning out my strategy for when the time came.

"This doesn't look like nothing, Miss Emma." Nadine clucks her tongue at me, flipping the magazine open to the cover story. "This one is my favorite," she lifts the magazine in front of my face so I can't avoid the photo.

I sigh, taking the magazine into my own hands. "It's not so bad," I mumble as I take in the grainy photo in front of me. Along with a couple shots of us walking out of the club, including the one where Beau gave the paps a thumbs up, is a dimly lit photo of us on the dance floor. Bodies close, a smile on my face, and a ... not scowl on Beau's. I stop the smile from forming on my lips, taking in Beau's crazy hair and strong jaw, the blue light of the strobes illuminating his tattooed skin.

"Mhm." Nadine comes around the counter to grab herself a croissant, breaking me out of my daydream. "Is that what you'll say to the Admissions office when you apply to school?"

My heart skips at her words. I hadn't given much thought to what I'd say to the admissions reps when I finally saved enough to apply. I was so focused on just having the money to do it, I pushed the idea of owning up to the whole ordeal out of my mind. "It doesn't say my name," I argue lamely.

"Mhm," Nadine murmurs, giving me a pat on the shoulder. "I just want you to be careful, baby. That's all," she brushes a crumb from her dress.

"I know," I smile graciously at my friend. That doesn't make it any easier though. I push the thoughts from my mind as another group of preteens enters the cafe, giggles bubbling in the air around them.

"What can I get you today?" I smile politely at the first in line, clearly the ringleader.

Instead of an answer, she slides her phone over to me, sending her friends into another fit of giggles. "Is it true?" She whispers, eyes wide.

I glance down, already knowing I'll see more of the night club pictures. I shrug casually, "We hang out." I smile as her excitement grows, the other girls nearly jumping in their spots in line.

"Oh God, you're so lucky! Beau Lewis is just so gorgeous and—" The other girls join in her lovestruck ramblings, making it impossible to make out another word. Once I finally get the girls orders to them, I take out my phone and send Beau a quick text.

Fiona should be happy - lots of fan girls at the cafe today ;)

Surprisingly, I barely have time to tuck my phone back into my apron before Beau replies.

Fiona is never happy

I scrunch my nose in distaste, starting to believe it myself. Another message from Beau.

Btw, Fiona is making me work late. Have to push back our dinner till next week. Fiona's orders.

I surprise myself by letting out a disappointed sigh and mentally cursing the scary blonde. Beau and I argue most of the time, but I've gotten used to hanging out with him. One might even say I've started looking forward to our outings.

Don't be stupid, Emma, I scold myself internally.

The rest of my shift drags slowly, made interesting only by the looks the preteens shoot at me every few minutes. Unlike the brunette at the night club, these girls are too young to be jealous, so instead they're in awe. Guilt twists in my stomach when I'm reminded how much of a fraud I am. I push the idea from my mind, busying myself with scrubbing the counter tops and filling the sugars.

Now that I don't have plans after work, I even stay late to help Nadine prep for the morning. We work in silence, kneading bread and pouring ingredients into mixing bowls. "You like him?" Nadine finally asks, watching me carefully.

I can't help but to grin a little. "Kind of," I admit truthfully, shocking myself more than Nadine, I think. I trace my fingers through the sugar left on the counter.

She nods her head slowly. "Is he nicer to you than he is to everyone else?"

I bite my lip. "He's complicated."

"Mhm," She wipes her hand down her apron, leaving a long streak of flour down the front. "That's what I don't like, Emma." Her tone makes me nervous. "You aren't complicated, are you?" I stutter for a second before Nadine continues anyway. "You're not. You work hard, you're a nice girl, you have goals and you're doing what you have to do to achieve them. You treat people well."

Before I can speak, Nadine is talking again. "And here's this boy - not nice to a dang person in this town, has more than any one person needs and still throwing tantrums for the whole world to see. I think you deserve someone not complicated, someone nice." She shrugs. Without thinking, I rush towards her and throw my arms around her.

"Thank you," I squeeze her and blink back a tear.

"Now go on, I've got the rest." She waves me off after a minute, already cleaning up.

"You sure?"

"Oh Miss Emma, you don't think I know you're leaving here to see that boy?" She winks as my mouth pops open in surprise. "I was young once too. I might not like it, but I get it." She rolls her dark eyes playfully, waving me out the door.

With one last smile, I grab a cup of coffee and a sandwich and head out. I quickly dial a number into my phone and hop in my car. "Val? Hey, can you do me a favor?"

***

"What're you doing here?" Beau pops open the door, dark brows knitted together. "How'd you even know I was here?"

"Val?" I blush, thrusting the coffee and brown bag to him. "I thought you might be hungry." In truth, it took barely any convincing for Val to give me the address of the studio MisFits is renting. The hardest part was finding the place.

"That was awfully girlfriend like of you," Beau smirks, opening the bag and leaning against the door frame.

"I'll let you get back to the guys," I mumble, chewing the inside of my lip.

"It's just me," Beau shoves the door open so I can see under his arm. The studio is empty, almost dark with the exception of a lamp in one corner. Papers are thrown about the room, some crumbled, some scribbled on, some torn up.

"Where are the guys?" I ask stupidly.

"They left awhile ago," Beau explains. "I need to come up with some new stuff though, or we're screwed." He runs his long fingers over his face and I notice the dark circles under his eyes.

"I could keep you company." The words are off my lips before I can stop myself and I hate the way my stomach tightens in suspense as I wait for his reply.

I expect a nasty comment or at least a sarcastic joke, but instead, Beau pushes off the frame and lets me into the room, closing the door behind me. He shoves a leather stool towards me, finding his own spot on the couch and grabbing his guitar.

I stay silent and sit completely still, scared I'll do something to mess him up. I glance at the papers at my feet, trying to make sense of the words scribbled on the pages. Soon I'm bored trying to make out the lyrics, and I watch Beau instead. If he notices, he doesn't let on. Absorbed in his work, he closes his eyes and hums to himself, plucking the strings of his guitar accordingly. Every once in awhile he stops, taking a second to scrawl something down on a notepad. I watch as the tattoos on his forearm stretch as he writes, how they blur when he plays the guitar. I can't lie, watching him do his thing... I can imagine why girls throw themselves at him.

"You're staring." His deep voices finally punctures the silence, breaking the tension in the small room.

"I know." I keep my voice surprisingly firm.

He doesn't look up but I watch the corners of his mouth twitch. We're quiet for some more time and I finally grab the small trash bin and carefully place all the papers strewn on the floor inside of it. I'm careful not to crumple anything, in case he wants to go back and work on anything in there. When I'm almost done probably an hour later, he's the one staring.

"Am I distracting you, Beau?" I lick my lips playfully, kneeling on the carpet as I grab the last remaining scraps.

"I actually got a lot done." Beau smiles smugly, setting his guitar on the couch next to him and leaning his elbows on his knees.

"Well, since I brought the coffee, I'm happy to take all the credit." I joke, involuntarily scooting closer to him, so I'm kneeling before him as he leans forward on the couch.

"If you're looking for a thank you," He rolls his green eyes, the liner smudged even more than usual, probably due to exhaustion, I think to myself.

I finish his sentence for him, a cocky smile on my lips, "I know I won't get one."

"Is that so?" His breath is on my face and I can't help but close my eyes and breathe him in. Every hair on my body stands up straight as I feel him lean closer to me, so tantalizingly close, but seemingly so far away still. My lips part, ready for his, when a sharp ringtone cuts the air between us.

I roll back, standing quickly, as he reaches for his cell. "Yeah?" He barks into the phone, his eyes intent on my face.

I pace back and forth, feeling too many things at once. It's just us here - so that was real, wasn't it? Beau is on the phone for a few minutes but I can't focus enough to hear the words. I grab my bag and jacket off the floor, all of a sudden feeling like I'm intruding.

"Hold on," I hear Beau say. Then his fingers are on my arm as I stand at the door ready to bolt. "You're going?" His eyes are hard on my face.

"I, uh, yeah. It's getting late," I stammer under his gaze.

He squints at me before shrugging as if it makes no difference. "See you next week."

I open my mouth to reply, but he's already back on the phone again. Without another glance, I push through the door and down the stairs to the parking lot.

Once back in my car, I rest my head on the steering wheel, trying to get my thoughts in order. I never know what to expect with Beau, but I'm always surprised at just how bad it stings when he runs cold.

And why is it so surprising? It's who he is - cold and complicated. All the other stuff, the nice boyfriend-girlfriend stuff, it's all just pretend.

I let out a deep sigh as I pull out of the parking lot, wishing I could be as good at pretending as he is.