Nerves hit you as Jensen drove down the faded and broken down street that you had lived on. Women in skimpy clothes watched with interest as he passed by, posing in case he wanted to stop for a sample. Men stood in the shadows, cigarettes hanging from their lips, their clothes baggy and dark.

Then there it was. The apartment complex you had barely been able to afford. Two stories with peeling stucco and bars on the windows. Only Steve and Linda's apartment on the bottom floor seemed inviting, with the welcome mat on the outside, and curtains seen through the windows. Everything else was dark and closed off. No one bothered Linda and Steve, the only good people in this shabby little district.

"You live here?" He asked, pulling in one of the many open parking spots, staring incredulously at the run-down building in front of him.

You wanted to say no, that this was some sort of mistake. But you were here to pick up your things and leave this part of your life behind. "Yeah. It was about all I could afford."

Jensen leaned over, popping the glove box open and pulling out a slim semi-automatic hand gun, surprising you. "What? You can never be too prepared. My previous life taught me that."

As you climbed out of the car, you realized you wanted to know more. Because the more time you spent with Jensen, the more you realized he wasn't the man the news portrayed him to be. He was kind and smart, and a man you wanted to get to know more.

Taking the keys from your pocket, you saw Steve staring at you through the lobby. Waving at him, you unlocked your room, stepping inside. The space was tiny, barely enough room for a kitchen, couch, and bed. The bathroom held the smallest shower you had ever seen. But with Jensen standing beside you, it seemed minuscule. His head almost reached the ceiling, his broad shoulders filling up the little bit of living room you had. "This? This is even an apartment. It's tiny!"

"Makes it easy to pack up," You answered. Not that there was much to pack up anyway. The only kitchen utensils had come with the apartment, and you left them there. Taking a trash bag, you went into your bedroom, straight for the closet. It only took one trash bag for all of your clothes and shoes. Another one for the rest of your personal belongings, including the ragged little stuffed teddy bear that you kept with you always.

Your bathroom items fit in the little suitcase you had kept, and within half an hour you had almost everything packed up and ready to go. Jensen was standing in your kitchen, going through the cupboards. "Anything in here you want to bring?" He asked, gingerly holding a moldy piece of something that resembled an orange.

You shook your head, pointing to the three bags you had packed up. Your whole belongings, stuffed inside those three bags. Made you feel like a failure. "That's it?" He asked, making you feel even worse. A tear slipped down your cheek, and you hastily wiped it away. You didn't want to cry in front of this man. Your boss. He was doing so much for you already, you hated to have him see you so broken down.

"Hey, it's alright," he soothed, stepping forward and brushing his knuckles against your cheek softly in a move that surprised both of you. "When I came to California all I had was the clothes on my back and a guitar. We all start out differently, but it's the journey that matters. And where you take the next step is more important than the step behind it."

Sniffling, you smiled up at him. "Isn't that a line from one of your songs?"

He chuckled. "Yeah, sorry. But sometimes they have really good points behind them. Leaning down, he picked up the two heaviest bags, leaving you with the small suitcase. Glancing to make sure you weren't leaving anything behind, you locked the door behind you. While Jensen packed the bags, you went and said goodbye to Steve.

"Seems you got smart, girl," he announced, turning the small TV off so he could come around and give you a hug. "And who is that handsome man? He seems familiar."

"That's Jensen, my new boss. He has an apartment above his garage he's letting me stay in." Steve pulled you in for a quick hug.

"He seems to be a little bit more than just a boss," he teased. "But I'm happy for you. Go, make a life for yourself. We'll miss you, Linda and I. But it's for the best."

You waved bye before climbing in the passenger seat of the Suburban. Jensen already had it on and running while he talked on the phone. "Yeah, no I understand. I can be there in twenty minutes."

Hanging up, he turned to face you. "Hungry?"

"Sure," you answered carefully.

Backing up the large SUV, he turned it away from your old apartment, and your old life. "Good. I have to meet up with my agent, and I thought we could grab a bite to eat at the same time. I hope you don't mind."

"But I'm just the dog sitter," you whispered, glancing down at your clothes in dismay. You were dressed nicer than usual, but you still had slim jeans and a simple t-shirt on. Nothing for meeting the agent of one of the most famous musicians.

"I do hope you'll become more than that," Jensen surprised you, his eyes hidden behind his sunglasses. "I'd like to think that we could become friends."

Friends. It was more than you had expected, but still, the word sat sour in your stomach. Because while he just wanted to be friends, you couldn't help the flutter in your heart each and every time he glanced your way.