It all started after her mother had made a comment about her roommate having what she called 'an uptown butt'.

Now, despite leaving her confused as to what this meant, it did get her thinking.

Because Nick Miller tended to have a penchant for the baggier style of pant (unlike his more metrosexual roommate Schmidt) it had taken Jessica Day a little while to notice it.

The first hints had come the day he had helped her move some items from storage up into the loft. He had picked up a large box filed with yarn and craft items and, damn, if when he bent to put it down hadn't his pants tugged on him in that oh-so-delicious way that makes a girl think about digging in her fingernails and leaving her mark.

But that had passed quickly: he was her roommate and she was 'just looking' don't you know.

A beach trip a few months later spiced things up a little. Turned out Nick's only pair of board shorts were pretty much raggedy after a particularly intense encounter with their temperamental drier. Winston, it seemed, was a briefs man (I like the support, he said) so Nick Miller, Nick Miller ended up wearing a pair Schmidt's very very short swim shorts.

As she lay back on her towel, her skin protected by a large brimmed hat and dark Jackie O glasses, she did an acceptable job of pretending to read People. However she was, in fact, studying the quite amazing curves of one Mr. Miller's butt. Okay, so his stomach was a teeny bit paunchy and the shorts were a little on the small side. But that butt, dang. It looked firm enough to bounce a quarter off it. The magazine's purpose was forgotten and she began to fan herself as she watched him goof around with the guys, burying each other and flicking sand in their faces. She most certainly was enjoying the view.

Hiking back to the car, Nick had stayed back to help Jess gather her things. She was a little disappointed that he had pulled on a pair of cargo shorts - but she did admit that the little pockets on the back certainly gave him a little extra something in the back. When he leaned in to pick up the cooler up she had felt a little woozy - a peculiar lightheaded feeling mixed with an irregular thudding in her chest.

"Thanks," she'd muttered with a slight smile.

And hell he'd replied with one of those million dollar smiles that made any girl go weak at the knees - his eyes crinkling a little and his silky low voice mumbling, "No problem."

It was then that Jessica Day realised that she had something of a problem.

Now, finding your roommate attractive is not unusual. Single, healthy adults of a similar age who live together - well, it's going to happen.

But becoming slightly obsessed (fixated?) on your roommates ass - and then in turn his smile and his hair and his eyes and- Well. No. That was not good.

So she dated.

Tall guys, short guys, skinny guys, built guys.

But each first date she found her eyes fell below the belt at an opportune moment as they turned away from her. Too small. Too big. Too flat. No no no. Not good enough.

And instead, she let herself fantasize when she was alone - him grabbing her, her hands sinking into his flesh: that perfect mixture of softness and firmness which provided the ideal leverage for urging him into the perfect rhythm..

Phew.

That image certainly did the trick. Because, you know, it's fine to think about your roommate in that way but actually going there was a big no no.

Winter was a particularly sad period for Jessica. Thicker clothes and more layers meant she had to rely on images and mini-movies stored in her mind for the most part.

Turns out when it's cold Nick Miller is a bit of a snuggler too. Movie night, on his spot next to her on the couch, he was wriggling a little closer so they could share her blue and grey tartan blanket. And it's not like she minded. Seriously. Up close he was warm and heavy and much firmer than she expected. No siree she did not mind one teeny tiny bit.

Then one night she had done the inexplicable - it was warm under the blanket and he was so comfortable and she had gone and fell asleep. When she finally peeled her eyes open, one arm was slung over her shoulder and her face was nestled into his chest.

"Hey, sleepyhead," he teased as she lifted up her eyes to meet his.

"Hey," she yawned, a sheepish expression crossing her face, "Sorry, I guess I was tired."

"No need to apologise. But you have to know, if this is going to become a regular thing I may need to ask for some kind of payment. Or at least a retainer. My services as a mattress are in demand."

"Oh stop it!" she cried, placing her hand on his chest and playfully swatting him away.

Catching the hand he smiled at her and she felt her skin begin to glow with warmth. "Seriously," he replied, his voice lacking the usual playfulness, "I'm here anytime."

Eyes locked, she searched his, trying to see the deeper meaning behind his dark and patient gaze.

"Thanks," she whispered, as she rose and gathered up the blanket. She turned to leave before swinging around again to face him. "Wait. Were you just trying to cop a feel? Is that what this was about?"

She was teasing him. Little did he know that that was exactly what was on her mind.

Standing, he furrowed his brow, "You and your skinny butt? Don't flatter yourself Day."

"Aha!" she laughed, narrowing her eyes, "I knew it.'

Then she saw her chance. He was laughing at her. His eyes glinting. Reaching around behind him she dove in and grabbed a firm handful of deliciously firm and inviting grade A ass.

"Hey," he moaned - but he didn't exactly pull away and she thought he even may have liked it.

"One nil to me, Miller," she goaded, shaking her head from side to side.

"Wait - so is this some kind of contest?" he asked, clearly confused about what was happening.

"Maybe it is Miller. Maybe it is," she sang as she turned and sashayed to her room leaving him confused and rooted to the spot.

Slamming the door and sinking back against it, she had to agree: Nick Miller did have an uptown butt.