I'm sitting next to Chace watching him scoop french toast into his mouth. I've already devoured mine, but instead of feeling slightly embarrassed for practically inhaling the food on my plate, I'm too busy watching him eat. I'm balancing my plate on my knees trying to sort through my head. I can't stop focusing on his arms and the way his muscles move when he puts more food in his mouth. This is bad, really bad. I almost want to slap myself, or him, when I see a drop of syrup land on the corner of his mouth.

I want to lick it off.

The realization slams into me at the same time that the front door opens from behind me. I'm almost sure it's Jake and Mike until I turn around and watch a woman in scrubs hang up her coat. I wonder who she is for a moment before I remember Jake mentioning his mom the night before. Then I remember that I'm in nothing but a t-shirt and her older son just finished making me breakfast and that she's about to turn around to see me.

I stand up in the same moment that Ms. Hamilton takes a look at me. Her eyes run down me until she brings them back up in a wide eyed stare. I watch her eyes shoot over to Chace and widen even more, before she does a slightly comical back and forth motion between us.

"Uh, it's not what it looks like." Chace says from behind me. His expression is the same as his mothers, making it easy to see their similarities in appearance.

"Hi, I'm Maggie." Ms. Hamilton extends a hand out to me ignoring her son's comment, but still looking surprised as hell.

"Jacey." I mention grabbing a hold of her hand. I worry that maybe my hands are sticky with syrup but Ms. Hamilton doesn't seem to notice. I instantly place on a smile, the one my mother uses when she's in front of a camera and I try to act like I'm not half naked in front of her.

"I was just...leaving." I say, flinching internally when I remember that I can't actually leave because Mike took the fucking car keys so I'm probably going to have to walk home in my underwear now that I decided to speak up.

"No, that's alright. You should stay." She says leaving me with a surprised expression. I'm surprised to see that she looks sad to see me go.

I'm about to argue that I really should get going, before I feel Chace's hand grab mine awkwardly.

"We'll be in my room." He says right as he's pulling me along back deeper into the house. We end up in his room before I wait for him to close the door.

"This isn't what it looks like?" I half scream, jabbing a finger at his surprisingly hard chest.

He looks embarrassed for a second before rolling his eyes.

"I panicked. Okay?" He says before turning around in case his mom magically appeared inside the room.

"Well now it definitely looks like that!" I scream. Chace knows I'm right. Taking me back to his room makes it look like we're together, which we're obviously not.

I look around the room again and see my boots resting together against the wall. I would put them on, except I don't want to look like a complete hooker, so I walk past them towards Chace's cell phone which rests on a bedside table.

I'm planning on using it, except I don't know his passcode, so I grudgingly hold it out to him.

"I need to make a call." I say, answering his silent question. I hear him huff and imagine him rolling his eyes before he hands back the phone.

I dial Mike's number, which I know by heart, and wait for him to pick up. He answers on the second ring.

"Hey Chace." He greets me with the most cheerful voice ever.

"Not Chace, Jacey. Where the fuck are you?" I say in a clipped voice. I don't have time for bullshit.

"Oh. Hey Jacey. How's your hangover?" He asks, awkwardly but at least concerned.

"Just peachy. When are you coming to get me?" I notice he doesn't answer my first question.

"Could you ask Chace for a ride? We're kind of busy right now..." He trails off half apologetic. I want to bash him over the head with the same pan Chace used to cook his heavenly French Toast. I can't have Chase drive me home. My dad's probably still there and if he saw me roll up with some random guy our cover would be blown. But does Mike think of any of this? Of course, not.

"You know he can't take me, right?" I ask in a deadpan tone. I hear him shuffle around a bit before he answers.

"Well, can you hold out for a bit? We'll be there in a few hours, I already called our parents so you're covered." I exhale slowly when I hear his last words. At least I don't have to worry about my parents for the rest of the day. With a pout I tell him it's fine and hang up the phone.

Chace has been silent the entire time, but now he's looking at me with a question in his eyes.

"Looks like you're stuck with me for the day." I say defensively. I'm trying to bait him into arguing with me, I won't lie.

"Oh no. No, no, no..." Chace trails off like its final. He looks like he's about to puke, which is kind of insulting but gratifying at the same time.

"What? It's not like you have plans today." I say with a roll of my eyes. At least I don't think he does. The guy hardly goes out, except for class which I'm now wondering if he has.

"What if I do?" He says lifting his head up a few notches above mine.

"Well do you?" I ask mockingly as a retort. He takes forever to give me an answer.

"Kind of." He finally replies looking unsure.

"Oh, well I can always stay here with your mom..." I say innocently. I'm kind of peeved that he actually does have plans. I watch him shake his head quickly before grabbing hold of my wrist.

"Actually, you can come with me." He says this while still pulling me out of the room. I watch him hastily slide his phone and wallet in his pockets still holding on to my wrist. His hand is warm while he continues to pull me away, but I don't say a word because I'm curious as to what the heck just went through his brain to have him scurrying me out of the house.

"Mom, I'll be home in a bit!" Chace yells. I don't get a chance to say goodbye to his mom or even hear her reply because before I know it I'm standing barefoot on the sidewalk in my underwear. For a long moment I had forgotten that I was in nothing but Chace's T-shirt but the homeless man sitting a few feet away from me did a good job of reminding me.

"Chace I'm in my underwear!" I yell at him finally pulling my wrist away from his.

He gives me a shocked stare like he completely forgot. So much for affecting him. The guy didn't even remember I was half naked in front of him.

"Where's your dress?" He wonders.

"I lost it remember?" I yell at him in an annoyed voice.

"Thank God for miracles." A new voice creepily claims from behind me.

"It's the homeless guy isn't it?" I ask Chace without turning around.

"Hey, comments to yourself." Chace orders with a finger in the man's direction. His dark tone is kind of a turn on, which isn't something I should be focusing on right now.

"We'll stop on our way to get you something." He says grabbing me and making me walk in front of him, shielding me from anymore wandering eyes. The problem with that is that I'm pressed up against him now, letting him lead me to a small car in front of us. This whole new awareness of Chace thing is really starting to get to me and it's barely been a few hours.

"Where are we going anyway?" I ask, just to get myself distracted from having him right behind me.

Chace doesn't answer as he opens the door for me. I take a seat over the hot leather and instantly regret it. My thighs are bound to stick the material by the end of the ride and I've already gone through the pain of waxing before, so I know what's coming when I have to rip my legs from off the seat.

"I repeat, where are we going?" I ask again once Chace sits himself in the driver's seat.

"I have a study thing to go to for finals." He finally answers has he brings the car out of it's parking spot and starts towards the freeway.

"What are you studying anyway?" I ask him, letting the cool air from the car fan my face. I've brought my legs up on the seat and am holding them close to my body with my arms. If I can escape the thigh torture I will.

"It's kind of embarrassing, but...English." He looks over to me with an awkward look on his face like he really is embarrassed.

"Why would that be embarrassing?" I ask him. I mean sure, English majors get a lot of crap from being English majors in the first place, but Chace looks at me like it's a big deal.

"Well my mom's a surgeon and she was kind of disappointed with my choice."

"Oh." I answer. I don't really have anything else to say to that. My parents have never really asked me what I wanted to do. I don't really think they care if I even go to college, so I have no clue what to say on the matter.

“What does your dad do?” I ask, the question shooting into my head before I can stop my big mouth.

“Lawyer.” He replies with a cringe. I don’t want to be a bitch so I don’t ask why he’s not in the picture.

We don’t say anything else until we roll into a large parking lot. I see the large ‘Walmart’ sign peek through once we drive over a small hill and feel my eyes grow wide. It’s not that I don’t know what Wamart is. It’s just that I’ve never actually been inside one. My mind recalls all of the Walmart horror stories I’ve read online and I sink further into the seat. My ass is officially one with Chace’s passenger seat and it’s staying that way if I can help it.

I watch as he takes the key out of the ignition. The day is beyond hot and it doesn’t take long for a small bead of sweat to start it’s way down my hairline. I’m a hot sweaty mess when he looks over at me.

“So are you-“ He starts to gesture towards my door.

I nod my head roughly and look at him with wide eyes.

“I am not going to walk into Walmart in my underwear and end up on the People of Walmart site.” I say it like it’s final. I don’t care if I melt and Chace has to come back to find me sprawled dead forcing him to reupholster his seats in the process.

“I can’t just leave you in here Jacey.” Chace scolds me, but I see him trying to bite off a smile.  Crossing my arms, I look away in response. I’m refusing to discuss the matter and I can feel it wearing him down after a few minutes. No way am I going to embarrass myself any further by having my picture taken and having it end up in the hands of the press. My parents would kill me before I even got a chance to off myself first, not to mention just the basic embarrassment of going to a public place in nothing but my panties and Chace’s dorky t-shirt.

I hear him sigh for what feels like ten minutes and roll my eyes.

“Fine, I’ll just be a minute.” He says it quickly, not wanting to waste anytime. I watch him jump out from the car and slam the door. At this point I’m sweating bullets everywhere. I’m about to turn the car back on when I hear a tap at my window. I panic, thinking that I’m about to get assaulted, and nearly jump out of my seat.

I want to slap Chace from across the window because it’s his fault that I just ripped my ass and thighs from the seat without thinking.

“What?!” I yell from inside the car. I can’t hear a word he’s saying but he’s making weird hand motions from the outside. He’s looks like he’d holding something and turning it, but then he pops his hand out really dramatically and looks at me. I don’t understand, so I bring my hands up in surrender. He, in response, throws his hands in the air with exasperation and turns away, telling me to forget it with his hand.

Whatever. Remember my comment about melting? I’d much rather end up on People of Walmart, than on the evening news, so I grab the car key and push it back into it’s slot, since it had been partially taken out. When I feel like I’ve jammed it in enough I turn it, waiting for the car to turn on.

The stupid thing gets jammed, so I try pushing it in and out, and then finally turning it again. I hear a pop, which isn’t the car starting, but the plastic around the car key breaking off and falling onto the palm of my hand.

For a moment all I can do I stare at the broken half of the key in my hand with a stricken expression, praying in my head that this can’t be happening to me. I imagine the face Chace will make when he realizes I’ve broke his car and then my own face when I end up dying from extreme heat and dehydration.

Then I start cussing up a storm because it’s all I can do at this point.

Hey guys! In case you haven't noticed, I've moved this story from my other account to this one, because I felt like it belonged here more. I really apreciate your reads and comments, and thank you for reading ^.^