[ disclaimer: I obviously don't know the details of Chris and Minka Kelly's past relationship, and I really don't know anything about her, so if you're a fan of her, don't take anything in this book too seriously. I'm just writing it for the sake of the plot. ]

As Poppy descended the stairs of her apartment building, she sucked in a breath. In all honesty, she really wasn't angry with Chris about the whole Minka situation.

She was devastated.

Though she knew Chris was her friend, and only her friend at the moment, she wanted more—much, much more. He'd somehow snuck his way into her very soul and now he continued to torment her; she couldn't get him out of her mind, no matter how hard she tried.

All of him had such an affect on her—his smile, his laugh, their little talks—she wanted to be with Chris more than she'd ever intended to. Their friendship meant so much to her, though; that was why she never could tell him. She could barely admit it to herself, because the thought of telling him only to have him reject her scared her to death. If she couldn't be with him in the way that she wanted to, she would settle for their friendship. That would not be enough for her, but she had to be in his life somehow, and if that was the only way. . .she'd deal with it.

As she exited the apartment building, her eyes scanned the street side in search of his car. Once she'd found it, she hurried over to the passenger side and pulled the door open. She then removed her sunglasses and placed them in her Nike bag, looking over at him.

"Hey," she said, letting out a breath as she buckled in.

"Hey, Pop-tart." Chris forced a small smile, though it still bothered him knowing she was irritated with him.

He looked over her once more before putting the black, 2013 Range Rover in drive and pulling out into the street. One hand firmly on the wheel, the other resting outside of the window, he felt himself tensing up. He wasn't exactly sure what to say; she was being unusually quiet, and silence had never really been an issue between them.

"Chris," she finally said, breaking the silence but doing nothing in subduing the tension in the air.

"Yeah?" Chris's jaw muscle twitches as he glanced over at her, his eyes hidden behind his sunglasses.

"Can you tell me why you were at Minka's?" She shifted in her seat as she peered over at him, wishing he didn't have his sunglasses shielding the emotion in his eyes.

One thing that she really did love about Chris was how he displayed his emotions through those crystal clear, blue eyes of his. She could look into them and tell what he was feeling, usually. However, with his sunglasses on, he wasn't the open book he normally was.

"I told you; she was drunk and wanted to talk. So, we talked, I left, and the paparazzi blew everything up out of proportion in order to put meals on their tables." He explained, letting out a sigh.

"I know. I mean, what did she want to talk about?" Poppy questioned, running a hand through her blonde locks.

Chris cleared his throat, turning the wheel as they neared the studio.

A minute went by and he still hasn't said anything, and she leaned back in her seat with the roll of her eyes. She didn't see why he couldn't tell her, after all, they were 'friends.'

"I thought best friends were supposed to tell each other everything." Poppy muttered, twiddling her fingers in her lap.

He exhaled deeply through his nose, scratching at his scruff, "She wanted to try again."

"Try what again?" Poppy asked, though she knew the answer.

"Us."

Poppy swallowed, looking out of her window, "Figures."

"Truth be told, I think she just wanted to hook up for the night." Chris admitted, only making her feel worse.

"I see," she said, her eyes still fixated on the window.

"I told her I wasn't interested, though. She took a lot from me—time I'll never get back."

Poppy nodded, listening to him and the hum of the radio. It was true; Minka had been the root of a lot of his problems, especially towards the end of their most recent time together. Poppy hadn't been friends with him very long while they were dating, but Minka had continued to talk to him and string him along for months even after they broke up.

"You know, you used to tell me I deserved better." Chris spoke again, glancing over at her petite figure in the passenger seat.

He just wished she would turn away from the window and look at him, maybe even smile. Her smile always set him at ease.

"Now, I don't know if I believe that anymore."

Poppy frowned, turning to look at him, "Why would you say that?"

He shrugged, his eyes in the road again, "I can't seem to make anyone happy."

"That's not true." Poppy objected, her voice quiet.

Chris looked over at her briefly, "If it wasn't true, you wouldn't be mad at me right now."

Poppy rolled her eyes, "I'm not mad at you." She sighed.

Chris nodded as he pulled into the parking lot of the studio and stopped at the gates, one of the employees asking to see his ID.

After showing it to the man, Chris continued driving towards the AOU studio and then looked for a parking spot.

"I'm not mad, because I'm upset." Poppy spoke up again, waiting for him to remove his sunglasses after he'd parked.

She could see the muscle in his jaw twitch as he removed the glasses, then turning to look at her, "Upset? I thought you were irritated."

"I am irritated," she agreed, twisting a strand of her hair, "but I'm also hurt."

Chris shook his head, "I don't understand. You were the one who said we were friends—best friends. Besides, I told you a hundred times already, nothing happened with Minka."

"I'm hurt because of what you said. You said you don't believe you deserve better anymore. I hate when you put yourself down like this." Poppy admitted, chewing her lip anxiously.

"Truth is, I know what I wa—who—I want. And she's just too good for me. I don't deserve her." Chris breathed out, his voice low.

His blue eyes bore deep into her's, and yet she still struggled to read him. However, the words coming out of her mouth stung; she was beginning to regret ever calling them just friends.

"Well, who is she?" Poppy asked, her heart heavy.

Her pain must have shown in her expression, despite her efforts to conceal her internal struggle, because Chris's expression softened even more as he looked at her.

He really couldn't bring himself to let her name fall past his lips; it was all too much for him. He was nervous, and on the inside, having a level 10 panic attack.

Without so much as a warning, Chris unbuckled his seatbelt and grabbed her face, pulling her to meet his lips over the middle console of the car. She immediately melted into him, though her heart continued to pound against her chest. He'd taken her by surprise, but she wasn't complaining; this was what she wanted. He was who she wanted.