Two hours and lots of screaming later, the credits flashed onto the screen. Still clutching my pillow like a shield, I turned my head to look at Jimmy. He was staring straight ahead, eyes wide, holding Salt close to him like she could protect him from anything (which she probably could) (just saying). He finally turned to look at me, and with a hint of humor in his voice, said, "Why did we watch that?"

"I don't know," I replied. I slowly stood from the couch. Jimmy released Salt and she hopped onto the floor just before he stood. He was still wide-eyed and tense, glancing around everywhere. "Aw, come here," I said, "you need a hug." I pulled him in and he held me tight. He started to giggle and that's when I knew he was starting to get back to normal.

"What's so funny?"

"I can't believe we watched that!" he replied, burying his head in my shoulder.

"I know!" I said. "C'mon, let's go to bed. I'm exhausted."

"Bed?" he repeated. "How are we supposed to sleep after that?!"

"We don't have to sleep right away! I've got a TV in there. I'll put Psych on or something."

"Oh okay," he said. "Good idea."

We were halfway down the hall when he stopped in his tracks. "Wait," he said.

"What?"

"I don't have any of my bedtime stuff."

I grinned and tried not to laugh. I'm dating an actual five year old. "'Bedtime stuff'?"

He let out a giggle. "Yes! Yes! You know - my toothbrush, my pajamas, my clothes for tomorrow, my shaving cream, my razor, my floss, my comb - ,"

"Okay, so....do you wanna go get it?"

He bit his lip nervously. "Well....yeah, but...."

"Not alone?"

"Yeah," he sighed. "There's no way I'm going alone after that."

"Okay!" I said. "I'll come with you! I've never been to your apartment before, so this should be fun."

We put on our jackets and slipped out the door, keeping a constant eye out for paparazzi. We decided it would be best to put Jimmy closest to the road since he's much taller than me, and would therefore shield most of my identity. I wore a hat that concealed my hair and dark sunglasses and was ready to hide the rest of my face at any moment. The sunglasses made it tough to see, so I held onto Jimmy's arm. We made it to his car after a few minutes and climbed in, taking off down the road to his apartment. "We did it," he whispered, clicking on the radio. One of my songs instantly blasted through the speakers and I covered my ears.

"Ack - skip it! Skip it!" I cried.

He turned down the volume and skipped it as fast as he could. "Sorry!" he said. "I've been listening to you a lot lately." I blushed.

"Wow..." I stuttered. "I'm flattered. Sorry for freaking out...I just hate hearing myself."

"Don't apologize! You're wonderful," he said, flipping through music until finally landing on "Yellow" by Coldplay.

"Ah...I love this one."

"Me too," he said, turning it up a little bit. "Y'know, when you first came on the scene, I was blown away with how good you are - like, right off the bat. No training, no experience - nothing. And man," he paused, turning the steering wheel, "what a face. Everything about you was just - is just - gosh. Agh. I'm just rambling now. You probably think I'm crazy."

"No, not at all," I said quickly. "If one of us is crazy, it's me."

He looked at me quizzically. "How?"

I laughed. "I was um.....," I paused, unsure if I should go on.

"You were what?" he pressed. "C'mon, I poured out my heart - now it's your turn!" he cackled as he always does, clicking on the turn signal.

"Okay, okay," I said with a sigh. "I....was totally obsessed with you. Totally. Like, some people are falpals, right? I wasn't a falpal. I was higher than that - a falwife. A falmaniac! While all my friends were crazy about Chris Evans and Drake and those One Direction guys, I was in my room watching old SNL skits waiting for you to break character so I could hear your laugh."

"People hate my laugh."

"Well, I'm not people."

He pulled into the parking spot and stopped. "I've noticed," he glanced at me and smiled. I smiled back as he turned off the car. "Alright," he sighed, "now that that's over, we're here."

I was buzzing with energy. It had been such a long time since I'd been so honest and open with somebody. Usually I'm such a closed box, but Jimmy was slowly unwrapping it, carefully taking me out of my protective shell - and I was letting him.

The elevator was fancy, just like everything else in the vicinity. We stepped in and it traveled up for what felt like forever. "Thanks for saying all that stuff back there," he said, breaking the silence. I nodded. "But, just for the record, I'm definitely more of an obsessive fan of you than you are of me."

I scoffed. "Oh, please. There's no way you're more of a fangirl than I am."

"You wanna bet?"

"I think I will!"

"Fine," he said, "loser has to kiss the winner."

"Deal!"

The elevator doors opened, revealing a spacious apartment with a gorgeous view. He let me inside and instead of telling me to make myself at home while awkwardly forcing me to wait in the living room like a normal person would, he instantly dragged me all the way to a back room and swung open the door with enough gusto to put Shatner to shame. My mouth fell open when I realized what it was.

Jimmy had taken me to his music room. At first look, it's perfectly normal - grand piano, various guitars, a drum set, a few speakers - but up on the wall, in a fancy golden case, sits my first guitar.

"Well?" he said, a smug look plastered on his darling face. I didn't say a word. I couldn't. After all, I'd just lost the bet.

So I paid my dues.

The kiss I delivered was short, partially because I'm shy and partially because I had so many things to ask him. Either way, Jimmy still blushed as I pulled away, and my face wasn't doing much better. "I told you," he said.

"How on earth did you - ?"

"You sold it for that charity auction a few months ago. It was an easy decision."

"But that thing sold for - !"

"$75,000. I know," he smirked, "it was my first bid."

"We didn't think we were going to make more than a couple thousand. That money helped a lot of people,"

"I just really wanted your first guitar. And look!" he shouted, pointing at it in awe, "it's signed!!"

I laughed. "It sure is! Man, I've been wondering who that anonymous bidder was. Now I know," I tilted my head, remembering. "If I had known then, I would've died."

"You're not dying now?"

"Oh, I mean, I'm a bit wounded, but no - not dying."

He faked disappointment. "What would make you die now?"

I shrugged. "Be creative."

He stepped closer to me. I held my breath. "What if I...." he said softly, "...held your hand?" He intertwined our fingers.

"Just a wound."

"What if I......" he brought up his other hand, "....traced your cheek, like this?" My face burned under his touch. "Flesh wound," I stuttered, though he could tell he was getting to me. The corners of his mouth turned up slightly.

"Or if I just...." he tilted my head towards his and kissed me slowly, letting go of my hand to hold my waist as he did so. We broke off and I tried not to show the fact I was crumbling inside. "Still just a flesh wound?" he whispered.

"Mm-hmm."

"Well, I'm pretty dead, so..." he whispered back, tickling my face with his soft chuckles.

"Maybe I'm just playing hard to get."

"I think you are."