This is just a little continuation of where we left off in the last part. Hope you enjoy it! ^_^

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You felt yourself blush as you tried to find the right words to say.

"A buck forty?" you ask, even though you already know for sure that's how much it costs. He hands you the record and your fingers brush. "Yep...$1.40". You're handing it back to him when you suddenly get an idea.

"Actually," you say, "it'll cost you a bit more than that."

His eyebrows raise in an adorable, confused manner. "So...it's not a buck forty?"

"Oh, it is...but, see, I was going to buy that record right after my shift. So, yes, you do have to pay a dollar and forty cents - but you'll also have to do something else."

You're not sure where all these words are coming from. You're rather impressed with yourself. Usually it takes a lot of courage to tell the customer hello. This was crossing all sorts of boundaries you had subconsciously set for yourself.

He laughs and tilts his head. "Okay, what? What is it that I have to do?"

You tilt your head the very same way. "You've gotta let me listen to it."

Did those words just come out of your mouth? Apparently so. You blush and step back a bit, suddenly uncomfortable with your own newfound sense of confidence. And, just as you least expected, the guy gives you the money.

"It's a deal," he says, grinning at you with his blue eyes. You take the cash and punch the numbers into the register, feeling your cheeks grow warmer and warmer.

"There is a slight problem, though," he says as you hand him his receipt. "The needle on my record player at home is broken. It has been for a while and I don't think my mom is going to fix it anytime soon."

"Oh..." you say, wishing you had a record player of your own. "Well, I'd invite you over to my place, but I've actually got the same problem. Well, not the same problem. I don't even have a record player. I mean, I did, but I sold it last summer so I could buy tickets to Paris." Just ramble your whole life story, why don't you? You mentally kick yourself. There goes my newfound confidence.

But blue eyes doesn't care. He's grinning all the same. "What about that one?" he asks, pointing at a turntable across the store that no one has bought yet.

"Nah, I don't have enough money."

"No, I mean, you work here, right?" he shrugs his shoulders. "Why don't we jam right now?"

You want to. All you want to do is 'jam' with this guy. But you have to refuse. "I wish I could, but my boss would kill me," you sigh, glancing back at Mr. Morrow's office. "Although...."

You look right and you look left. Then you lean across the counter and whisper, "My shift tomorrow morning starts at 5:00. If you come in that early, we'll have time to listen to both tracks. Mr. Morrow doesn't show up until at least fifteen till."

"Perfect," he whispers back. "I'll be here."

You both return to a normal stance as if nothing had happened. "See you 'round," he says, smiling as he walks away.

"Wait!" you shout, again surprising yourself. He spins around. "Sorry to stop you, but I didn't catch your name."

"It's Link," he says, "Link Neal."