"Mom said I could invite a friend over if you're okay with it-"

"Goodbye," Peyton heads toward the door.

"Wait, you're leaving? I already invited him..."

"I don't care, move," she pushes me back and closes the door.

"I didn't want you here, anyway!" I shout on the off chance that she might hear me.

I'm still not sure what to do when I have a guy...who isn't just a friend...come to my house.

And it's not something I can ask anyone about. Just from overhearing conversations, I know that when most guys have someone they like over their house, it simply leads to sex. Every time. And if it doesn't, it's considered a waste.

I don't really...want to do that. Not yet. But Aaron is older, out— and experienced. I don't want to be a disappointment.

I grab a plate out of the cabinet and set it on the counter.

No sex. Just sandwiches.

I untie the bread and grab as much as I can in one go.

I slap a scoop of peanut butter on a few pieces and spread jelly on some more.

We usually have lunch meat, but my mom hasn't gone shopping in a while.

By the time I'm done, I've used 12 slices of bread...just enough to make her mad.

Someone knocks to the tune of "Shave and a haircut," and my gut tells me it's Aaron.

People who come here for Peyton usually have her wait outside so they don't have to get out of their cars.

"Hey," Aaron smiles when I open the door.

I wonder if I should hug him...

"Come in."

"Nice place."

"Thanks, it's my mom's." He chuckles. "Are you hungry? I made PB&Js." I lead him toward the kitchen.

"And they look great."

Yes, I refrain from stress eating and instead engage in stress food preparation. What a catch I am.

"We've got lemonade too. I'll pour you a glass...unless you're allergic to lemons or something."

"I'm not."

"That's good because I already had a cup. You were going into anaphylactic shock one way or another."

"Zach, are you nervous?"

I let out a shaky breath, "you can tell?"

He nods with a smile, "what's up?"

"I don't know. I've only ever had one guy I liked come over. I feel like I'm doing everything wrong."

"Well, how'd it go that time?"

I think back on it...and...

"Uh-" I nod, "not too bad."

"It's me this time, so hopefully that's not too bad either."

I suppress a smile, "it's not."

"Want me to take these for you?" He offers, referring to the plate.

"Yeah, over to the couch," I nod.

I follow behind him with two glasses of lemonade and set them down while he bites into a sandwich.

"You're a true chef," Aaron compliments.

"Thank you, I know. You should try my cereal, it's one of my best dishes."

"Unsurprising."

I keep a sandwich in one hand and the remote in the other as I flick through channels. The soaps are still on which is a sign that it's too early for any good shows.

"The Young and the Restless?"

"What're you, my mom?" He gives me a suspicious look.

"Right," I turn it off. "Well, do you play video games?"

"Not really," he shrugged.

"What do you do then?" I can't imagine.

"Got a pencil and some paper?"

"Uh-" I stand up and look around, "sure."

There's always a notepad by the phone. I grab that and a pencil off of the counter before returning to Aaron on the couch.

"Thank you," he takes them from me and flips to find a blank page.

"Are you going to write me a poem or something? Is everyone's romantic life a scene out of Before Sunrise?"

"No, now look at me," he replies, and I listen. He grabs my head and angles it to his liking. "Perfect, stay just like that."

"Oh, you draw," I say impressed.

"I dabble. Usually with charcoal, but pencil is fine too."

He looks back and forth between me and the notepad. I hear the sound of the pencil scraping against the paper, and Aaron seems really focused.

I don't even like having my photo taken because I simply look ridiculous frozen in time.

I can't picture how this will come out, and I can't steal a peek at the drawing because it might mess everything up if I move.

"Soon enough, I'll start growing moss like a tree," I joke.

Aaron laughs but keeps his eyes on the paper, "you know, people used to sit for hours to be painted."

"The same people who used lead paint to make their faces white?"

"Yeah," he laughs, "those people."

"Then, are we surprised they'd do something like this too?"

"Hush, I'm almost done," he says and I hear the pencil being pressed harder into the paper before he suddenly stops. "Here," Aaron puts the notepad on my lap.

And just this one instance, I look good frozen in time.

"Wow..."

"Don't judge me, it was a quick sketch," he shakes his head.

"This is so cool."

"It's okay," he shrugs.

"I can keep it?"

His lips pull into a smile, "Of course."

"Thank you."

His light smirk of pride starts to soften as he stares at me. He leans back against the couch cushion and eyes my lips as he slowly inches closer.

Oh, we're doing this again, nice.

I meet him in the middle, pressing my lips to his without hesitation. If I thought about it— he would always have to kiss me first.

We both smell of peanut butter, and he tastes sweet like jelly.

Aaron kisses back with eagerness, his hand roaming up my thigh as he urges me down with his body. He hovers over me when I'm flush against the cushions, and I feel my heart beating out of my chest.

He grabs my jaw in his hand and turns my head so that he could swipe his tongue across my neck. I've always been so jealous of the people who came to school sporting fresh hickeys. Everyone who catches a glance knows what they did to get that mark. It makes you wonder...

I count in my head all the times I've gone out with him. 1...2....3 dates? Maybe this is supposed to be happening right now.

Aaron pulls back and his hands move to the end of his shirt.

Now, I'm going to go into anaphylactic shock.

He starts to lift it over his head but stops at the sound of the doorknob turning back and forth.

My breath hitches in my throat, and I push him away at the realization that it's unlocking.

"Shit," I say breathlessly and shuffle to get upright.

The door opens, and I stand up— for no reason at all.

"Oh, Hello, boys," my mom says when she sees us.

"Uh-" I point at the coffee table, "We've got sandwiches."

"No crumbs on the sofa, I hope."

"Nope." I look over and see Aaron holding a throw pillow over his lap. God, it's so obvious what we were doing. "Peyton left!" I blurt out to distract her from what she's probably not even thinking.

"She left you here alone?" My mom said in shock. "I'm going to kill that girl."

"Good, so then I won't have a babysitter."

"Middle school is where you might not need a babysitter, but high school is when you need one again— just for a different kind of protection."

"I'm pretty sure it was your generation that was bad."

"They only get worse with time," she argues as she walks up to the sofa. "I'm sorry, I never introduced myself, I'm Marcia, Zach's owner."

I give her an unamused look, but he laughs and shakes her hand, "I'm Aaron."

"Aaron," she narrows her eyes in thought, "why does that sound so familiar to me?"

"How you guy's doing? You doing alright?" I pass a table of gamblers who have a hundred grand on the table already. "Let's get you some drinks," I whistle at one of my waitresses who is circling with a tray. When she starts to come over, I make my way to another table. "Okay, you fellas have a good night."

"Great turnout," Tony grabs me before I could get too far.

"Isn't it?" I smile proudly. "Too bad the guys didn't make it."

Tony furrows his eyebrows, "I saw Trevor going upstairs?"

"...upstairs? You're sure?" The entertainment up there is solely confined to the bedroom you're...escorted to.

"Yeah, monogamy and Trevor is like oil and water."

And Alison never was a good judge of character.

"Whatever, not my problem," I shrug and keep moving. I can't stay in one place too long, I have to make sure the wheels are turning right in this place.

I've hired people to work on each ride in my amusement park, but for opening weekend, the strip club is mine to manage.

I walk through the doors, and it's clear that this is the most popular part of my castle. The number of men in suits make this room look like an office on wall street added stages and poles.

The air smells crisp— like lust and hundred-dollar bills.

I head straight to the back where the dressing area is and knock twice.

"It's me."

I hear a montage of: "Come in, Ethan," "Don't be shy, Ethan," and "it's open, Ethan," from the most beautiful, sultry voices that make me feel like I'm living in an episode of Charlie's Angels, and I'm the man you only know by name.

"Alright, are you ladies ready?" I say invigoratingly. They cheer in response like they're football players and I'm the coach giving a pep talk before the big game. "You're going to be great and make lots of—" I point to them for an answer.

"Money!" They say back to me.

"Exactly. Now remember...no glitter and no perfume, okay? Most of these guys are married with kids. If they go home sparkly, they'll leave home divorced."

"Should we care?" One of them joked, I've come to know her as Charlotte.

"Well, divorces are expensive...so less money for you."

"Divorces are sad. They'll be here every night," she smiled.

"You're evil," I shake my head in amusement. Charlotte has a twin sister. They auditioned together as "Sugar" and "Spice." It was a wonderfully arousing performance.

"Ethan," I hear from behind me.

"Elizabeth."

She lifts one of her high heels, "the strap broke."

I sigh, "come with me."

I keep a storage room of all their clothes and props. It's a walk-in closet that she could have gone in herself, but I suppose she wants me to approve of her uniform.

"Pick whatever pair you like," I motion toward the wall of over-the-top platform heels.

"Thank you," she grabs a random pair without looking at the rest of them.

I bring the stool up to her so that she can sit down and begin to slide her feet into the platforms.

"Better?" I ask.

She nods, "yes."

"Okay, good luck out there..." She nods again, and I look at her suspiciously. "Nervous?" Her eyes meet mine and seem almost puppy-dog-like as she nods once more. "You'll do fine."

Elizabeth shrugs, "yeah...maybe."

I've never seen you without your annoying strong will and overzealous courageousness. Where'd you go?

I walk back into the main dressing area and clap my hands together, "Showtime, sweethearts!"

And she's first up.

I thought it was a good idea for her to get the crowd warmed up...to be the teaser.

"See you out there," Charlotte says.

"Yes, you will," I wink.

"Welcome, saints and sinners. It is now midnight which is when...we come alive," the DJ announces and gets a slew of applause in response. "We're about to bless all of you tonight with a pretty little thing to keep your dreams sweet. Gentlemen, turn your eyes to the center stage, and give it up for Celeste!"

The room erupts with whistling and hooting as if she's already a fan favorite.

The name rolls off their tongues in enticement as they repeat it to one another.

I wanted to go for a more obvious stage name like Heavenly or Angel, but Liz thought it'd be too trashy. Celeste works just the same...it suits her.

She walks onto the stage hesitantly. The light hits her face and reveals her form. She looks pretty nervous...pretty timid...pretty.

Her audience of savage animals continues to gawk and drool while they try to shout over the music playing.

Elizabeth hasn't even done anything but walk...and yet they still cast their predatory eyes on her imagining doing God knows what if she was alone with them.

I take a side glance when I see someone moving next to me. A man, probably mid-40s, stares intently at the bare girl on stage and adjusts himself through his pants.

Fuck this.

I leave my glass on the bar and push my way through the suited savages that surround the stage.

"Elizabeth!" I yell out, and she seems comforted by the sight of me. Yeah, it's time to get you out of here. I reach my hand out for her to take, "Come here, come down."

She grabs it, and I help her off. "What did I do?" Elizabeth asks in concern. I ignore her and put my jacket around her body, closing the front of it. "Tell me."

"Nothing, just put your clothes back on."

"But-"

I grab ahold of one of the servers, "tell him to introduce Sugar and Spice right now, okay?"

"Okay," the server nods.

"Good, hurry before the crowd gets too antsy."

"Ethan?" She demands my attention.

"I'm serious, Elizabeth. Go get dressed."

She huffs and glares at me, as per usual, then angrily marches backstage.

This is less about you, and more about me. I swear.

But I still have to chase you, don't I?

The music stops, and the intercom clicks on again.

"Pardon the interruption, but we've had a small change in plans. One is good, but two are better. Put down the drink, you're seeing double. Say 'hello' to Sugar and Spice!"

I push the door open and look around.

"Has anyone seen Elizabeth?"

"Who?" I'm questioned.

I roll my eyes, "Celeste."

"Oh, she's back there," they point to the closet.

"Thank you."

I cautiously approach and then knock lightly. I'd hate for her to snap at me in front of my staff and make me do something I don't want to.

Elizabeth swings open the door, "I'll do better. I'm sorry if I messed up tonight. It was stage fright-"

I sigh and gently push her back in for privacy's sake. "You're fine."

"But you pulled me off-"

"I know what I did, Elizabeth."

"Then, why?"

"I didn't like you being up there," I shrug frustratedly. "If only you knew what all those men were thinking when they saw you."

She crosses her arms, "You can read minds, now?"

"Yeah, I guess I can. And theirs' were filthy."

"Isn't that how they're supposed to think of me?"

"No, you're not theirs' to ravage."

"I'm yours?" Her eyebrow arches.

"I didn't say that. You don't belong to anyone."

"I still need this job, Ethan. I have to make money somehow"

"You don't need their money."

"My bills would disagree."

"Not with me."

"You'll pay my bills?" She asks skeptically...as if that's not what I've already been doing.

"Sure."

"In exchange for what?" She comes close enough for me to smell the fragrance I told her not to wear.

I chuckle and raise an eyebrow at her, "I haven't solicited you for sex before, why would I start now?" She shrugs, and I lean forward to whisper, "but your interest is duly noted, Elizabeth."

"So, we'll sell this at Addington," I slide my half of the stash over to me.

"And I'll sell this at Chester," Matt pulls his over to him.

"This should be a good $650, and if they keep buying, you'll have-" I start doing the math in my head, "about two and a half grand by March."

"Okay," he nods.

"That's not good enough for you?" I furrow my eyebrows at his lack of enthusiasm.

"I don't know how much time I've got."

"Don't worry about it. If you were in any real trouble— they'd have shown their faces by now."

"If I see their faces, it'll probably be the last thing I see."

"Not while I'm here. It'll just have to be a bloodbath, and I doubt they roll like that."

"What made you come over here? Figured you'd be at Val's or something."

"Why not? I'm with you all the time now anyway," I scoff. "I was with Leo earlier, but Heather stopped by and I didn't want to be there when they started doing it. Plus, I'm still in the doghouse with Val."

"What'd you do?"

"She found out I was hanging out with Kat."

"Oh," he says slyly and chuckles while looking off to the side.

"Oh, what?"

"Come on, man. Stop denying it, Val's not here," Matt says with a sly smile.

"Denying what?"

"You and Kat."

"Nothing is going on between me and Kat."

"No, but you wish."

"No, I don't."

"Okay, I'll ask her out then. You know, since you don't care," Matt baits me.

"Fine. She's going to say 'no,' but do what you want."

"No, she won't," He smiles arrogantly.

"What makes you so cocky? All Kat's exes are tattooed skinheads who ride motorcycles. You're a pothead goofball, she's not going for that."

"You know, I might have been bluffing at first— but now," Matt gets up and leaves the room without another word.

"What are you doing?" I call out and get no response.

Fine, I'll bite.

I follow after him, and he smirks. "Grab the cordless," Matt says as we walk toward the kitchen.

"You want me to call her?"

"No," his eyes narrow. "I want you to listen." He grabs the landline and punches in numbers before raising it to his ear. "It's ring—"

"Hello?"

"Kat? What's up, It's Matt Jensen."

"Hey, Matthew," she says through laughter.

"So, I was sitting in my room, thinking about you..."

"Really?"

"All good things, trust me."

"What kind of things?" Kat impels.

"Things like if you're busy Friday night."

I can hear her smile as she speaks, "no, I'm not busy."

"Oh, yeah? Then, what kind of movies do you like?"

"Why, do you want to ask me out?" She teases.

"Why, do you want to say 'yes?'" He plays along.

Kat laughs again, "Friday night. I get off at 6, okay?"

"See you at 6. What movies should I-"

She hangs up before he could finish. Matt turns to me. "I guess we're skipping the movie."

"She cried herself to sleep. I felt so bad for her, and there was nothing I could do."

"See, Trevor's a dick, I told you," Leo replies, letting me get everything off my chest.

"I already knew that. What's worse is I had to drag Jace out of the room so that Trevor could talk to Alison alone, and you know what he did to repay me?"

"What?"

"He turned on me as if I was the one who sabotaged his relationship. Naturally, Jace passed out, and instead of picking him up, Trevor decided to try and insult you."

"Me? What do I have to do with any of that?" He furrows his eyebrows.

"He wanted to hurt my feelings so he said that I'm only dating you to avoid being cheated on again. Which obviously isn't true because I didn't know I was ever cheated on."

"Jace is a fucking idiot."

"Sure, but I don't care at this point. It was a surprise, yes, but just another reason on the long list of why I won't involve myself with him."

Leo smirks, "Is it bad that I'm really happy about that?"

I smile as he starts moving in for a kiss. His hands already preparing to grip my body.