A/N: I do not own Girl Meets World, the characters, the locations, the songs and the quotes mentioned in it. But I do own the plot.

Your man on the road, he doing promo

You said keep our business on the low-low

I'm just tryna get you out the friend zone

'Cause you look even better than the photos

I can't find your house, send me the info

Driving through the gated residential

Found out I was coming, sent your friends home

Keep on tryna hide it but your friends know

- The Hills; The Weeknd

"Attraction is only intense when mystery is involved."

- Anonymous

Chapter Three: Topanga's

A light knock eventually woke me up from my slumber. I had my arm across my eyes, groggy and dazed. My thoughts were hazy, twisted up in my dreams; it took me longer to recall I was in my room. I moaned and rolled on to my side, hoping that sleep would consume me once more. I could feel it was way too early in the morning by how heavy my eyelids are and that there was no signs of sunlight through the window. I never lock it or close the curtains. I snuggled deeper into the pillow and let out a pleasant breath.

Until I groaned in irritation when another knock came. I rolled until my feet touch the floor and I quickly sprung them back on the bed when I felt the frigid wood sting my soles. I pulled out a pair of my favorite Stitch socks, rolled them up my leg, and then staggered to my phone on the dresser nearest to the window. The screen said it was three in the morning. I rolled my eyes then reached for a tissue from the box and blew my nose into it as I approached the door, the floorboards creaking under my weight. I'm probably gonna hear from Mr. Stiles soon for 'making too much noise' when I really wasn't.

When I opened the door, Riley was standing there with a smile and she was still wearing her pajamas. Her hair was twisted in a messy bun, a few strands falling over her lovely face. There was bags under her eyes and they were a bit dulled in color. She obviously hasn't gotten any sleep.

"Your hair looks like a haystack," she said.

I glared at her. "Shouldn't you be sleeping like a sane person should? Or mooching off on Charlie or something?"

"Charlie left hours ago - he needed to work on an essay," she said, ignoring my comment entirely. "And I was finishing my article and it got a little lonely without you out here."

I sighed tiredly, leaning my head against the doorframe. "And what purpose do you have that requires me to suffer from sleep deprivation?"

"I made some of my grandma's special brownies and Mama Arroyo brought in some more food for us. They're even doing reruns of Red Planet Diaries - season four."

I debated. I had classes in four hours and work in nine hours so the logical thing is to take the time to rest. But then there is the offer of late night snacks and night watching my favorite show with my best friend that is quite too tempting to resist. The latter won. I walk out into the hallway and closed the door behind me as Riley let out an excited squeal that made me smile slightly.

"Fine," I said. "But only for a few minutes and that's it. Capiche?"

"Capiche."

A few moments later, we were found in the living room, sharing a quilt knitted by my late grandmother, with a plate stacked by a small pile of homemade brownies, and Riley working on her laptop while I chomped on the dessert goods and lusted over a shirtless Blarg. I should be making her to go rest up, seeing that her nose was still pink and her cheeks were lightly flushed, but Riley was engrossed in her story and there was no way in pulling her back when she was too concentrated in her furious typing. I don't know how she is able to do that. I get tired from reading a few pages of the first chapter of a book so I can't imagine how worse I'd be if I had to write.

"You're missing the good stuff," I said as another love scene between Blarg and Ashley was in play after their first risque night.

"You know I'm more Blarchel trash," she answered, never removing her eyes from the screen or stopping her fingers. "I never understood what makes Blarley so popular. It's an unhealthy relationship."

"They're hot," I shrugged. "Plus their sex scenes are pretty good."

"That's why you ship them?"

"I never said I shipped them, I just said I prefer a relationship like theirs over Blarchel's. Yeah, Blarg and Rachel had a pretty good thing going on - good support - good communication - good passionate sex - but it got pretty boring really fast. It's the same story used; good guy meets good girl, they fall in love, go through problems that 'wants them apart', get through it, and later get married, have kids, and grow old and fat until they die. It's been done too many times."

"So has Ashley and Blarg's story," Riley retorted. "Bad guy misunderstood by all but falls for the good girl with good morals that help him change for the better and she eventually falls for him after she learns he isn't entirely bad. They develop into the climax of the story, soon let themselves go in a night of passion, go through the struggle of the universe trying to 'separate' them, manage to go through it all, and live happily ever after. That's also been done too many times."

"You're just a sucker for innocent romance," I grinned.

"And it worries me that you're more intrigued in the other kind of romance." Riley stopped typing to look up at me. "You know relationships are more than just physical, right?"

I nodded. "Trust me, I'm more familiar with the important aspects of a relationship than anyone else." I take another brownie from the plate. "Let's just admit that Hollywood is not original. They remake every story and add new things to make it seem more interesting but it's all the same."

"Agree." Riley hummed lightly as she went back to typing. "By the way, shouldn't you take the chance to finish your final project? It's worth a whole grade and you said the professor won't accept it a day late."

I glanced over at the corner of the room, nearby the wall next to the window; my eyes wandered to the sight of an unfinished piece colored on a easel with other art products sitting on the makeshift bay window and an open photo album. The piece wasn't finished yet. There were only a couple of colors splattered here and there but it isn't actually a picture yet. The assignment my professor gave me was a mystery; Paint what makes you incomplete. I've never struggled to come up with a picture before but this one is really taking the cake.

The tortured artist who could reach the depths of a place where not every else could reach, is what all of my art teachers would say whenever I present a piece that leaves them speechless. Riley would joke around and say it's because I had a terrible life - I believe her. My former Art mentor, Ms. Kossal, said that what I couldn't speak in words is what I paint - I show what I feel, what I see, and what I think. And my high school Art teacher, Mr. Jackson, helped me develop my skills so I could get the scholarship to college and achieve my dream as an artist. He considered me an old colorful soul reborn to revive the views of art in this gray world - his words, not mine.

And, in a way, they were all right. I did have a terrible life and, despite me having Riley there to listen, I explain better about anything relatable in this world through my paintings, and that is what made me grow ahead of my time. I don't consider myself the best of all time, I'm just realistic of what is going on. That is what helps me come up with things but lately my mind has been blank from all inspirations.

What is it about me that is incomplete? A lot of things. I couldn't think of what to pick.

"I have until the end of this semester," I mumbled, turning my attention back to the TV and munched on the brownie as Blarg gives Ashley a moonstone to see if she was sired to him like Mercurio said.

"You don't usually put off your class work on the last minute," stated Riley. "At least not the class you like."

"I don't rush on them either," I added.

Riley stopped typing again and peered at me with a concern glint in her eyes. "Is everything okay with you, Maya?"

"Just peachy."

"You sure? You haven't been okay since you came home. Did anything happen at the interview that you're not telling me?"

"If something were to happen at that interview you would have gotten a call from me from the police station to come bail me out because I assaulted a CEO and probably have to call your mom to get me out of a lawsuit, " I said.

Riley pursed her lips. "Peaches, what happened?"

I sighed and reached for the remote to lower to volume, knowing that she was not going to let this go until I speak. I moved to face her completely. Riley even placed her laptop on the coffee table to do the same.

"I went to the diner on my way here," I confessed.

Riley's eyes widen. "Maya!"

"I know, I know," I frowned. "I got a little hungry so I stopped by there and Heather gave me the soup for you. I just ordered a tuna melt and left. Well, not until after I had a little encounter with a fuckboy but that's it."

"Maya," Riley started slowly, calmly. "You know you need to stop going to that diner. Every time you do that you're -"

"- Making it worse for me," I finished. "I know, I know. But I can't help it, Riles, I just can't. You know that."

Her eyes grew soft. "Of course, I do. You know I do. And I'm happy to see that you're being hopeful every time you head over there but it's been years since you and Shawn filed the report on your mother. It's going to be five years. The detectives tried everything they could but it became a cold case -"

"Riley, please," I pleaded. I could see my vision was blurring up a bit by the tears I'm trying to swallow down. "Don't tell me to give up. Not yet. I need you of all people to still have hope in this with me. I've given up on so many things before but I can't give up on my mom - not when we got everything we wished for." I sucked in a shaky breath. "Please."

"Okay." Riley shuffled closer to me to wrap her arm around me and lay my head on her shoulder as she stroked my hair. "I just don't like seeing you like this, Peaches. I worry about you. I don't want to see you hurt because I love you."

"I love you too," I said. "And thank you for being concern but don't be. The only time you can worry about is if my failed father suddenly shows up."

I felt her shudder. "Don't mention him. It's still a sensitive to talk about for you and me. I don't want to be reminded of what he has been doing to you for years. I'm still disappointed in myself for not noticing the signs when it was obvious."

I shook my head. "It's not your fault. It's no one's. I just hid it too well."

"Still…" she trailed off to give me a kiss on the head and tightened her hold on me. "I should have noticed when you started to wear long sleeves and an excessive amount of makeup. You're not the kind of girl to go full out on that."

"Yeah."

We stayed quiet for a while, the lighting of the TV brightening up our faces but we weren't really watching the program anymore. There was a bittersweet taste in the atmosphere and it doesn't surprise me that the good nature between us had died down to this. It happens all the time when my father is mentioned. He was like a taboo. The very sound of him brings back horrid memories and old scars are shown once again.

I bit my lip and screwed my eyes shut as if to hide away from the memories that would not go away. They are buried to the very back of my mind but they are never forgotten - they could not be forgotten. How could they be? So many times I needed to conceal, too many times I had to pretend, and too long the time was I had to remain strong through it all. I turned my head and hid my face in the side of Riley's neck as she continued to play with my head, the feel being a soothing gesture to keep me comforted.

Suddenly, my phone rattled on the coffee table, causing me and Riley to jump apart. At the sight of the contact picture and name appearing on the screen, my breathing became uneven. I picked it up with trembling hands then, after a quick glance to Riley and inhaling a shuddering breath, I answered it.

"H-hello?" I had to clear my throat as it came out croaked. "Hello?"

"Hey kiddo."

My heart sprung up in elation and anxiety at the sound of Shawn's voice. It has been over six months since I last heard from him and whenever he would try to contact me, I'd be asleep or at work or during class, and when I try to get back to him, he never answers. So to hear the velvet voice of my stepfather through the static connection, I felt absolute delight.

"Shawn," I breathed out.

"Hey there, I hope I didn't wake you up. You sound like you did."

"No, no," I said. "That was all Riley's doing. She woke me up because she was being clingy."

In result, I got a swift kick to the thigh under the blanket by Riley and I grinned teasingly at her as she stuck her tongue at me.

"Where are you now?" I asked.

A moment of static passed by before I could hear him clearly say, "I made it in Minnesota an hour ago. I just got settled in this swanky motel."

"That's really far," I said. "Almost a whole day away."

"Don't even get me started on the drive here," he muttered and I smiled. "Anyway, I just wanted to see how're things back at the Big Apple. How's college life treating you?"

I frowned. "Shawn, quit stalling. You know what I want to know."

I heard him sigh on the other end of the line and I could imagine him ruffling his hair with a grimace. "Yeah, I know."

"So got any leads?"

"Only the same as last time. I'm going tomorrow to any local places and see if anyone might recognize her with the pictures I brought. Hopefully I might get somewhere."

"Are you sure the witness said she was spotted in Minnesota?"

"Yeah, and the guy dragging her around matched the description from the police reports." I could hear him unzipping his suitcase. "Don't worry, kid, I'll find her."

I sighed. "I hope so. I still think I should have gone with you and we would have found her quicker."

"Maya…"

"I know, I know." I hadn't noticed it until now that I had gotten up from the couch and went to the fridge to pull out a bottle of beer. I took out the bottle opener to pop the lid open and took a quick sip before continuing, "Mom would have been upset if I dropped out of college and didn't fulfill my dream. You tell me that all the time."

"And with good reason."

I pouted. "I liked it better when you were cool."

"What do you mean? I'm still cool!"

"No, you're not cool like 'I still have my rebel side on' cool," I teased. "You have more like a 'I'm a dad who likes to bend the rules' kind of cool, you know."

He groaned. "That's not nice to know."

I laughed under my breath before taking another swing of my beer. I could see Riley gathering up her books, stacking them in a tower on the table, and closing her laptop after shutting it down before she walked in the kitchen to raid the fridge for a late snack. She was being polite to not interfering with my phone call but I could tell she was itching to intrude since she is obviously eavesdropping by the way she is glance at me over the door of the fridge.

"Anyway, kiddo, I just called to let you know I'm alive and breathing so go back to sleep. You probably have school later. Tell that Baby Cory to stop being so clingy or to cuddle with that weird bear that has no face," said Shawn.

My frown deepened. "Shawn...Dad…"

"I know, Maya. I'm trying here."

"It's been years...What if….What if, she's…."

"She's out there, Maya, I know it. And she's alive. If she wasn't then I wouldn't have gotten this far."

"The detectives gave up because they couldn't get close to finding her. They said every time they feel like they got close to her, she's actually five steps farther from them. It's been years since we reported her missing…." I could feel the tears building up. "What if...she's never found?"

The line was silent for a minute and I waited patiently to see what Shawn could possibly say to make the situation any better. I knew nothing can, I just wanted to see him attempt to when he knows it too. The facts are right in front of us, the inevitable is there, yet we somehow are holding on to the impossible. I wonder if that had anything to do with the influence Riley had on me or her father and Shawn's longtime best friend, Cory, did to him.

After another moment has passed, I realized that he was too quiet in the other end and when I pulled the phone away from my ear, I saw the connection had dropped. I placed the phone shakily on the counter, maintaining a steady breath even though my throat felt like it was clogging up. The back of my eyes were on fire as more tears slipped onto my face, closing my eyes to stop them as I thumbed them away, but soon ended up with the back of my hand against my nose as I let out choked sobs.

Riley immediately came to me and embraced me from behind, laying her head on my shoulder. She had slid her arms around my torso to tangle her hands with mine and trap me in a much-needed hug, grasping me in sanity that I appear to be slipping from. I appreciate that she did this; I'm sure if I were to fall in that endless void then I'd never find a way to come back and to have her hold me like she was my lifeline is my safe haven.

"Everything is going to be okay," she whispered quietly into my ear but it sounded muffled through my heaving wails.

"I-I...want h-her b-back!" I cried.

"I know." She rubs her thumbs over my knuckles and nuzzles into the crook of my neck as she tightens her hold on me to pull me closer to her, almost molding her front to my back. I slumped into her arms, bowing my head as my tears dripped from my nose.

"She's….She's been gone f-for...so long...I-I…." I sputtered.

Riley nodded. "I know, honey."

"What if she's...she's…"

"She's not."

"But what if Shawn -"

"He'll find her." Riley loosened her hold to turn me around and kept me steady by grasping on my shoulders as she looked at me directly in the eyes. She was over me by a few inches, nearly a foot, so she had to looked down at me while I looked up at her. "Listen to me; Shawn has been looking for your mom for years now and he's gotten pretty far without the police's help. Do you think he would have stopped anytime soon if he believed your mother to be dead by now?"

I sniffled and shook my head.

"Exactly. He knows she's out there somewhere, wanting to come home to him and you as much as you both do, and he's not gonna stop until he finds her," she continued. She lifted one hand to wipe away my tears with her thumbs. "So don't give up hope yet, Maya. You've been holding onto it for so long and that's probably the same thing your mother is holding onto to stay alive through whatever she's going through, wherever she is. Okay?"

I nodded. "Okay."

"Now, how about we finish our brownies, finish one more episode of Vampire Diaries, and call it a night?" she insisted. "You deserve the rest after staying up late for me."

"Sounds good."

Riley gave me a tight smile before she wrapped her arms around me and guided me to the living room. I allowed her to lead me back on the couch, to pull the blanket over my lap, and to place the plate of unfinished brownies on my lap because I was really numb from everything since my emotions were jumbled up. Also because I really needed her caring attitude.

Riley crawled under the blanket then grabbed the remote from the table and laid her head on my lap as she turned up the volume. I instinctively started playing with her hair, twirling it around my fingers as we watched Blarg attempt to release Ashley from the sire bond. It was a habit I've grown around her whenever she was feeling ill or needed a friend in need or if she is struggling to sleep. Right now, I know she will because she was worried about me. It was like a sixth sense to me.

But I allowed myself to have a small selfish moment in taking advantage of her presence to keep me comforted and at ease. I know she will be lacking in sleep yet I needed her. I couldn't deny her when I needed her.

So I tilt my head back in the pillows, my eyes slightly droopy, possibly heavy from all the tears they were drained out of, and continued to play with Riley's wavy locks as the episode played.

For the following week, I threw myself into my work and studies in order to keep myself distracted from dreading over the fact that my mother could not be ever found or my phone call with Shawn. I still took care of Riley, too, making sure that she is taking Heather's cure soup (she never liked the aftertaste of it) and she kept herself busy meanwhile during her temporary house arrest. She spent the time cramming in for her finals while consulting about the latest edition of the school newspaper with her other journalist buddies. By Thursday, she was back to full health and she was nothing but a hopping ball of endless sunshine and constant pep. That's better than seeing her dressed in her pajamas that made her seem like purple cats threw up on her.

Charlie's visits were frequent; he'd come over to do study sessions with us. His obvious motives were too easy for me - Riley was still oblivious. I wonder if her breakup with Evan made her blind to how men are when they're affectionate to women. She can easily spot a man being romantically involved with another man or another woman who isn't her yet she cannot seem to see Charlie to her. It baffles me, really.

Sometime in the week, we visited Riley's parents, Topanga Matthews, to keep her updated on our daily activities and our studies but also to check up on her. It was a bit ironic; throughout all of high school, Riley would argue with her mother about the things they want and the most Riley wanted was to be treated like an adult, but now that she lives separately from her mother, she couldn't seem to stop missing her and would plan lunch dates or come home for dinner as much as she could.

Not all of their plans are possible because of Riley's study plans and her shifts at the supermarket taking up her time or Topanga's position as Head of her law firm and many cases. They manage to make it up with movie nights or afternoon shopping. I wouldn't be involved even when they invite me because I didn't want to intrude in their moments and half of the time I spend at my job either way.

I would really use that time to call Riley's father, Cory Matthews, who I considered Father Figure Number One and the first man I actually let in my life before Shawn came around. It was more of a brief conversation - if you could call it that - of occasional grunts and murmurs as he would be focused on grading his student's papers and I would be occupied in trying to come up with a specific topic for my final project. It isn't normally like this - Matthews is quite the blubber mouth. When he is finished with his task, he'd give me his full attention and talk about anything that comes up to his mind, trying to help me with my project like he used to. We mostly ended up talking up the upcoming event of Paco's Tacos giving away their tacos for twenty-five cents.

Topanga would come back to the apartment after her mother-daughter day with Riley, carrying multiple bags that are actually Riley's, and a bag of takeout.

"How are things, Maya?" she would ask me as soon as she sees me and she would give me a long hug with a kiss on my cheek. I know she does it to calm my nerves about my mother as she and her husband know the story behind Shawn's long trips. She is also helping him, searching up credit card records, motel room records, travel ticket records, or any phone bills, that have helped Shawn reach so far and giving him leads on witnesses who spotted my mother.

For a moment, I hesitated but immediately forced a smile. "I'm fine."

"You sure? Riley told me you had a rough day a week ago," she said. I sent a piercing glance over at Riley, who grinned sheepishly.

"Nothing I couldn't handle," I said through gritted teeth. "Just another asshole I won't have to see again."

Topanga pursed her lips. "Maya, what did I say about using vulgarity?"

I grinned. "It's very unlady-like and nobody would take me seriously with a sharp tongue like mine."

"Exactly. So would you please learn to use more alternative words? At least when you have company around."

"Fine. I'll see what else my tongue can do." I winked at her playfully, making her roll her eyes and shake her head at me. "I'm kidding. What I mean to say is I had an unfortunate luck to encounter a man of high society and a dry demeanor. Better?"

"Much better," she smiled pleasantly.

"Good. Now what did you get me?"

We ended up spending the day crashed in the living room, giggling about the most hilarious memories, speaking about each other's lives, ranting about our bad days at work, and watching a marathon of Supernatural until Riley and I fell unconscious on Topanga's shoulders.

I was bearing a secret that I never told Riley. Ever since the interview, I've had this odd dream where I'm in absolute darkness and the only thing in sight are these pairs of green eyes. The same pair that Lucas Friar has. I could even hear his voice calling out to me, saying Miss Hunter in that irresistible husky voice, crawling around inside my head for hours until I couldn't take it anymore and end up screaming into the pillow like a madwoman. Then the thought of him haunted me, embedding his handsome portrait even more. It was ridiculous how impossible it was to not think about him. The cowboy had somehow imprinted on me and it scared the shit out of me.

Throughout my teenage and early adult years, I found many boys charming or attractive but not many of them held the potential that I wanted. My expectations in men weren't high - I just couldn't find any who really catches my eye. I considered myself a relationship failure. I felt I was best suited for friendship with my guy friends while some of them lusted to be more or going on one date to crush them out of their infatuation in me so I wouldn't have to face the dreadful question, 'what are we?'.

It's my mistake. I would end up comparing the guys with my last relationship with Riley's uncle, Joshua Matthews, which did not end in the best way and the feelings I held for him were still lingering. Complicated obstacles came in our way and put us in a real uncomfortable position.

I was in my room, getting ready to go to work. I'm a manager at a nice little coffee shop in the ground level of the Manhattan brownstone. It was given to Topanga after the original owner, Mrs. Svorski, passed away years ago and it was later turned from a small bakery to a hangout cafe spot for high school and college students. My mother was the manager prior to sudden her disappearance, I was promoted to her position until she was found and Topanga would come in once in a while during her day offs to see how smooth things are running.

It was also neat reading area for people to lounge around to do some last minute studying, do their homework in peace, check out books to their liking, or, like me, to loose themselves in a blank sketchbook making pictures beyond their world.

I started working at Topanga's when I started NYU. It's become one of the most popular areas in Greenwich Village ever since it's been remodeled and, over the years I worked there since I was seventeen, I've gained a lot of experience in customer service and come to learn almost the entire menu of desserts or beverages or novels we own - although, ironically, I've total shit in what ingredients we used to make our desserts when I've eaten almost all of them. My mother was an expert on it.

"Maya, I'm going for a run!" shouted Riley.

I was buttoning up my black polo when I heard her. Riley liked to take afternoon runs around the neighborhood before she takes her exams to sweat off her anxiety. I finish the last two buttons, leaving the others undone before I went to poke my head out of the door.

"Don't go through that alley I told you about," I said. "Also I'm going to work in twenty so I'm giving Mama Arroyo the spare key. I'll probably be back around ten, tops."

"That's the third time this week you've picked up a double shift, Maya," said Riley. "Don't you think you're overworking yourself a little too much? We already paid this month's rent."

I smiled. "There was nobody else who could take the shift. Ophelia already had a family thing to attend to after work and Susan called in sick. Ricky is on his vacation."

"Susan calls in sick a lot," stated Riley. "How do you know she's not lying to go to some party or sneak off with her boyfriend? She's devious like that."

"There's no way I could prove that she's lying about that, sweetie, unless I catch her in the act. Either way I can't send her to work if she claims to be sick because that's against the law," I said. "Don't worry about it. I got it covered. I need the money either way - there's a sale in Demolition and I really want that Van Halen shirt I had my eyes on for weeks."

Riley chuckled with a roll of her eyes and she bend down to tie her laces. I couldn't grow accustomed to her pre-workout outfit that consisted a purple sports bra and a jogging pants that made the curve of her thighs more defined. She was never the kind to express her body openly, knowing that there are some people who have a lingering eye, but ever since her relationship with Evan, she grew more confident with her assets and she still managed to keep her decency. She looked impressive but I'll never get used to see how much she's grown out of her innocent age.

I just wish she left her nagging persona behind as well. I knew that is something about her that will never stop. She may be my best friend, my sister from another mister, and even when I want to strangle her, I know she only does it to look out for my best interest.

Once she was sure, Riley straightened herself and opened the door behind her. "I'll have my phone with me if anything. I'll stop by afterwards when I'm done with my errands."

"Yeah, yeah," I said nonchalantly as I grabbed the apron from the back of the couch and tied it around my waist. "Just don't forget your water. I don't need you dehydrating yourself."

Riley took her water bottle and iPhone from the nearest chair she had it on before she turned her heel. "Love you!"

"Love you too!" I hollered before she left.

I managed to clock in within two minutes before my shift started. If I hadn't gotten in the subway in time, I would have been fifteen minutes late. I'm glad I didn't choose this day to wear my heeled combat boots or I would have fallen a lot. It seemed like the shop is in total chaos the moment I went it because I could see all the chairs occupied by groups of teenagers or families and a long line of waiting customers was spewing out of the entrance was seen heading to the front counter where I can see Ophelia attempting to attend to all of them. I immediately got into work, taking in order left and right, serving group to group, and giving out takeouts to multiple parents.

Around lunchtime, the rush had died down with a few groups loitering about, others asking for a refill and an extra cheesecake, but everything was steady. Ophelia took the chance to leave for her break while I spend my time to count the money in the register and check on some of the order we made. I'm engrossed in doing the math of the prices, double-checking the catalogs numbers of the sweets and beverages we've sold against the amount we have collected in the register, my eyes flicking from the order cheek to the small tablet hidden behind the counter and back.

Then the small bell hanging overhead of the entrance dinged, telling me a new customer is here, and I glanced up momentarily to let them know they have my attention only to smirk invitingly once I spotted the familiar man spiky black hair and the tattoo sleeves with a million meanings making his way towards me. A crowd of girls instantly turned their eyes to him when he passed by, their faces lighting up in pink, before they turned to each other to whisper excitedly and tittering giddily as they glanced at him.

"What are you doing here, Rebel?" I asked jokingly.

"Is that any way to greet a customer, blondie?" he countered in the same tone.

One of my longtime friends who I tolerate, Brandon, was a black-color loving, tattoo-covered, and mechanic expert with messy dark hair and onyx eyed beauty. He made all the girls swoon by just his presence like the ones in the corner. A lot of people mistaken him and I as a couple due to our similarities in style and other interests but I could never see him as nothing more than a good friend I could hang out with.

"Not when you're a regular," I said. "The usual?"

"Yep."

I reached behind the counter to take out a slice of cheesecake I had saved for him in the small refrigerator then took out the can of whip cream and strawberry sauce.

"Anything to drink?"

"Water."

I complied and went back to the register as he pulled out his wallet from his back pocket. I smiled slightly. He had made that wallet out of duct tape with his grandfather and he still uses it to this day even it is has a few tears or unstuck in some places. I held up a hand before he could take out his money.

"Leave it," I said. "On the house."

He looked at me incredulously. "You being generous? You got a day left to live or something?"

I rolled my eyes. "What? I can't do a nice thing for once? You really think that little of me, Rebel?"

"Only when you always demand the money out of me, Hunter." He put the wallet back in his pocket and started to add the toppings on it. "Just put it on my tab."

"Your funeral," I retorted as he took a forkful of his cheesecake. "So what's new at the shop today?"

"Same old, same old," he shrugged. "Today Carl came in with a Chevy. Late 1980's."

"Vintage. Nice."

"Yeah but the owner really fucked up the engine and transmission. It's a miracle Carl managed to push that thing for blocks. I'll have to fill in an order later for that and file it in."

I winced. "Damn. A car in that era and to pay the shipping and the purchase of the parts of a car that is hardly seen nowadays…" I sucked air through my teeth. "That's gonna be around a grand."

"Between fifteen-hundred or two, and that depends if the damage isn't too great than we think it is," he said.

"Feel bad for the sucker," I remarked. "Does he really want the truck that bad? I mean I get it's an antique and all but honestly if it's meant to be history might as well just let the thing rest in peace."

"I don't think it'll be a problem for the guy," Brandon said. "Carl said it's a guy from the upper side."

I blinked. "What the hell does a guy from the east side want with a 80' Chevy?"

Brandon shrugged. "I don't know. Guess he wants to seem all hipster or something like that. Girls who don't know a thing about cars get impressed and are easy to get in bed. Maybe he wants to get laid by some piece of ass he has his eyes on. Either way it benefits more for me."

"Ooh, someone sounds bitter," I cooed with a playful pout. "Are you disappointed that you couldn't impress me in bed with your extensive knowledge in cars, baby?"

Brandon smirked. "You wish I was impressing you."

"Sure you do," I said. "Need I remind what kind of car I own?"

Brandon narrowed his eyes. "Shut up."

I laughed as he flicked me off. The bell dinged again as another crowd of people came in, some of them coming to me to make an order, others going to the small bookstore, and the rest joined the rest of their friend group at the corner. I was not in much of a rush with the customers as there are not much people here now, just a scattered bunch who are quietly reading and munching on pastries.

"Tell me again why we hang out in this place?" grumbled Brandon; he had finished his cheesecake and he was currently sipping away his water. "All there is just a bunch of undeveloped teens and old farts who come by pretending to order just to get a good look at your rack." He peered disapprovingly at me. "Which you should button up, by the way. Have some dignity, woman."

"I work here - you're the one who hangs out around here," I corrected as I carefully grabbed a cinnamon roll from the oven case with a napkin and handed it to the customer before I took his slip. "By the way, this size is the only one they had available for me; if I button it up any more then I'll suffocate. It's not my fault those perverted geezers got nothing better to do with their lives."

I glanced at the slip; caramel macchiato with a light whip, extra vanilla, and cinnamon stick on the side. I place it on the order tray before I went to the second station to begin brewing.

"And the only way you've noticed it is because you've been staring down at it too," I added with a wink. "So you're at fault on that one."

"I'm a man who enjoys the greatness of the physique of woman - I shouldn't be at fault to that," said Brandon. He nodded in greeting at one of the regulars who had stopped by and taken their usual spot within the reading area.

"Whatever," I muttered. I could never win an argument against this guy; he always has to have the last word and my patience runs thin if a topic takes too long. I added the extra vanilla and foamed milk in the mug before I went in the pantry to open up a fresh pack of cinnamon sticks the same time I heard the front door bell ding again.

"Brandon!" exclaimed a familiar voice that made my heart leap in joy. I quicken my pace, grabbing a jar of sugar on the way, and stepped out of the pantry in time to see a mop of gentle blonde hair pounce on top of an unexpected yet amused Brandon.

"Hey there, tyke," he said with a chuckle as he ruffled the young one's hair. "How was school?"

"It was fun!" he answered. "We played dodgeball in recess today and we lost but I scored kicked the ball over the fence, and then Mrs. Kobb gave me extra pudding in lunch today, and I got an A on my spelling test, and then we all read Peter Pan, and then after school, Lucy Gluckman kissed me and then -"

"Whoa, whoa," I intervened as I came out from behind the counter. "What's this I hear about kissing?"

"Maya!"

I instantly dropped to my knees to catch the little ball of energy in my arms and buried my face in his bright locks, inhaling the scent of lemon and paste as he wrapped his legs around my torso whilst I straightened up.

"I missed you," he said.

"I missed you too, Jon."

Jonathan Chet Hunter; he is my little half-brother, the purpose why I go through all the struggles of life for. He was conceived three years after my mom and Shawn got married in my freshmen year in high school. He had my mother's personality and hair color but he looks so much like Shawn, the resemblance so uncanny that he might as well be a miniature version of him. He also dressed in the same style similar to me and Shawn combined; a yellow flannel shirt with the collar popped up, his Brooklyn shirt tucked in the front to show his belt buckle, a pair of washed out jeans scrunched up at the bottom by combat boots. His hair is also the same as Shawn's in his age from all the pictures I've seen.

It is entertaining and distressing when people would instantly assume I'm the mother because of our same sense of humor and our same hair color. It was pleasing because it was like a reminder of how close our bond is because my main priority is to be a great big sister to the little tyke, especially after all the constant question I bothered Riley with since she is an older sibling herself. Yet it frightened me a bit because it also shows that I am capable of handling the pressures of motherhood but I don't really want to have children.

It is a secret fear I kept from everyone in my life; I'm scared that I would not be able to keep my children protected from the life I had to endure and suffer through all the hardships I had to get to to be where I am all because I wasn't an amazing mother like mine was to me. I don't think I would have the strength to give them what they need to say 'I lived a good life' or I would end up disappointing my mother and humiliating my children for being the person behind their births.

I might be overthinking. I may not be. Either way, I couldn't tell how the future is holding out to me.

I pulled away from Jonathan but still held him in my arms and smiled tenderly at his toothless grin. "Now what's this I hear about you kissing? You're too young for that, you little gremlin."

Jonathan made a disgusted face. "It was gross; me and Gluckman were hanging out at the monkey bars with Roy and Diane, and we were playing grown-up truth and dare, and Roy dared Gluckman to kiss me. Now I have cooties!"

I laughed. "Well, you asked for it. You shouldn't have played 'grown-up truth and dare' in the first place."

"I didn't want her to kiss me!"

I carefully lowered him back on his feet and smirked at him, "Too bad for you."

"Maya, you're mean!"

I winked. "Tell me something I don't know." I ran my hand through his messy hair. "Did you eat anything? Are you hungry?"

"No, I went to Wendy's on the way here. Can I have a cupcake?"

"It depends, do you have homework today?"

Jonathan pouted and nodded. "I have stupid math homework. I hate that class!"

"You hate every class," I pointed out.

"So did you," he retorted. "Dad said so."

"You can't argue with that, blondie," added Brandon with a smirk. I glared up at him dangerously even though I knew that had no affect on him.

"Either way, I had to do my homework and tests," I said. "Now go and do your homework. If you have any problems you don't understand, you can come to me. Maybe I'll give you a cupcake later when you're done."

His brown eyes glowed. "Okay!"

I smiled after me as he raced over to the reading area and sat at his usual table where I could have a clear sight on him. I could understand why Jonathan found all of his classes boring, despite being an excellent student. He goes to Greenwich Village Elementary School, one of the popular public schools in the area, the same one I went to after I met Riley, and they do encourage their students to strive for success in order to maintain their high ranking in education.

I used to be one of the members of the honor board, who did all of my assignments, finished all of my homeworks correctly, aced all of my exams, and participated in class, to impress my mother and gain her attention but later on I lacked the motivation to do well around the time the complications with my father began. It wasn't until later, during high school, that I started to try again to reach my dream career as an artist and professional photographer.

I walked back around the counter to add the final ingredients in the caramel macchiato and carefully placed it on the small plate.

"You let an eight-year old walk alone in New York?" inquired Brandon, raising a quizzical brow at me.

I shook my head. "No. Matthews picks him up on the way from work. Since the high school is only a block away, he insists to pick up Jon on the way," I said. "Matthews brings him here a lot so whenever Jon sees the place he gets the tendency to run away from him and sees me faster."

Taking a sip of his water, Brandon grunted. "Remind me again why the kid doesn't live with you?"

I pursed my lips. When Shawn made the choice to search for my mother, he had ensued his trust in me to take care of Jonathan while he was away. Unfortunately, I had college, bills, and my job to focus on and I wasn't going to be able to take care of Jonathan at the same time, so Riley had asked her parents take Jonathan in their care until I graduated from college. They were pleased to do the favor; they were talking about having another child after their youngest child, Auggie, started his first year of high school this year.

"Because I promised Shawn I would do whatever I can to take care of Jon while he's away," I answered. "He has a better chance of staying healthy and clean with the Matthews than living with me. I don't want him to feel neglected because of me."

"But you're not living alone. Can't your sunshine friend help out?"

"Riley loves Jon like she loves Auggie and I'm sure she wouldn't mind having him around - she misses Auggie like crazy. But she wouldn't be able to take care of him either for the same reasons as me. Sometimes we both won't be home because of work or other shit. Besides I trust the Matthews more than anyone. They took care of me once before."

I delicately hold the plate in my hand as I walk out from behind the counter again and headed to the customer who is sitting in the lone table by the window. He was busy hissing into the phone to notice me place his order in front of him and I walked away, biting my lip to prevent myself from laughing, having to hear bits of the conversation. It's always funny to hear husbands get in trouble with their wives.

I glance around me to see the rest of the people seemed content, no signs of needing my services shown, and I discreetly pulled out my phone to see the time. It was twelve-fifteen. I frowned; Ophelia was fifteen minutes late from her break.

I sat down on the chair behind the counter and turned on the tablet. Brandon had gone to talk to the same companion he nodded to earlier, which is good for me because he was an easy distraction to me, and I needed to check the supplies to see what I needed to order. So far, I'm up to my second to last pack of coffee beans and have three packs of sugars in the pantry. There are also the biscuits and small cakes - I'll have to make an call tonight to Minnie's Bake Shop and Millie-Feuille's Bakery.

I jotted down my reminders in a small sticky note and pinned it next to the tablet as the entrance bell dinged. The whiff of scented cherries hit my nose.

"Ophelia, you're late," I said as the sound of heeled shoes came my way. "You know I'll have to put that in your record."

"Sorry, Maya," she said as she approached me around the counter and hugged me her slender arms from behind like she always does; she is a rather friendly person. "I ran by a distraction on the way back. Didn't notice the time."

I was unfazed. "Doesn't matter. Next time drag your distraction with you so you won't be late. Another rush came in and I swamped." I send her a sardonic smirk over my shoulder. "So next time be a darling and don't leave me to fend for myself like that."

Releasing me, Ophelia blew me a kiss. "You got it, sugar. Besides, he's on his way now."

"Oh joy," I muttered.

I heard the bell again, but I didn't look up this time, thinking it could be the unwanted diversion Ophelia was talking about, and continued to try to match the catalog with today's numbers. However, my blood ran cold and my body froze when I heard Jonathan cheer.

"Uncle Josh!"

I forced myself to glance up and find myself locked in the mesmerizing crystal blue gaze of the only man who is able to make my heart rise up and shatter at once.

Epic heart failure.

He was still beautiful, maybe even more, since the last time I saw him. The way he looked in that grey wife beater with the flannel shirt tied around his waist and his torn dark jeans with matching boots was bewitching. Then with the way how his unruly hair was tucked back under my favorite beanie of his made my lip bite in appreciation of that marvelous sight of someone so pleasing. How can someone like him exist?

Jonathan ran up to Josh and he captured the little one in his arms, lifting him up in the air above his head, making Jonathan laughed excitedly as he kicked his legs.

"I told you not to run away from me like that," said Josh sternly, though, he was smiling that stunning smile of his, revealing his pearly white teeth, as he lowered my little brother. "What if some pedophile snatched you?"

"What's a pewdiepie?" asked Jonatan.

"Pedophile," chuckled Josh. "Is a very bad person kids in your age shouldn't get close to. And they're everywhere so next time stay close to me."

"Okay!"

Josh hiked Jonathan up on his shoulders and walked over to me. He held this impassive glint in his ocean eyes as he stared at me, his wide grin shrinking down into a small, soft smile. To see him like this has my heart restarting. I didn't know it had died until I felt it accelerate erratically.

"Maya," he greeted.

"Josh." I ran a hand through my hair. "I didn't know you'd be here today."

"I wasn't planning coming over today but Cory asked me to pick up this little tyke from school," he explained. "He had a staff meeting to attend to and I was close to the area either way."

"And you ran away from him?" I asked Jonathan flatley, eyeing him with strong eyes.

Jonathan grinned meekly before turning away from me, his face bright red with a nervous expression masking over it. Josh chuckled merrily as he lifted Jonathan off his shoulders and placed him on the counter as I crossed my arms, never wavering my gaze.

"Jon?"

He glanced at me through his hair. "Am I in trouble?"

I brushed it away from his eyes and I got distracted for a second; he reminds me so much of Shawn with his eyes because they held the same compassion and affection I used to stare into. I comb the rest of his hair back, running my nails across his scalp, and then gently rubbed his back.

"No," I said. "You just don't get a cupcake today. Next time don't run away from anyone again and maybe I'll give it to you."

"No!" he whined with an adorable pout. "You promised me a cupcake if I did my homework!"

"Then you should have thought of that before you ran away." I flicked my finger at his nose, making him scrunch it up in annoyance, then I messed around with his hair. "Now go do your homework. I'll check on it later to see if you made any mistakes."

Jonathan knew better than to argue with me. He learned from last time that I would only make his punishment worse if he ever talked back to me. He hopped off the counter and dragged himself over to his chair with his head hung low and his shoulders slumped. Josh took a seat in front of me and folded his hands on the counter, the gentle smile never leaving his graceful face.

"You should give the kid a break," he said. "He was just excited to see his big sister again. The only time he gets to stay with you is close to the weekends and after school if you're working. You can't blame him for that."

"I'd rather be hard on him and make him learn to be safe," I retorted.

He snickered. "If you were to say something like that back then I would have thought you were joking."

"But I'm not. That's my little brother, Josh, and I promised Shawn I'd take care of him while he's away. I don't think Shawn would ever forgive me if he got a phone call from me saying that Jon got kidnapped by some pedophile or worse. Jon is, technically, Shawn's first born."

"I know where you're getting at, Maya but still," he said. "Instead of torturing the little guy, give him that cupcake you promised. This time for learning his lesson."

"I'll consider it." I tapped my nails against the counter while biting my lip; I couldn't believe that after all the time has passed, I still have his horrid habit whenever he is around. "Since you're here - is there anything I could get you?"

"Yeah, I'll just have a cup of coffee. Only - "

"Straight black," I smirked. "I remember."

Emotion grew in his eyes as they soften and his smile became tender. "That's right."

"I'll have that ready for you, Mr. Matthews," I said.

I try to seem nonchalant as I turn around to the coffee and get it to start brewing, but really I'm concentrating hard to not tumble over my own feet - my legs are suddenly rubber, making my knees shake under my weight. I'm so glad that I opted the chance to offer my services and take the distraction it provided me with. I never thought I'd be so happy to work.

From the corner of my eye, I could see Ophelia return from the back room carrying a plastic tin. Her main job was bussing the tables when I'm around. As she walked pass the counter, she quickly whispered to Josh and he nodded with a smile while she slipped him a crumbled piece of paper before she went to the deserted tables.

"Do you want any desserts?" My voice was a bit too high. I tried to not make it obvious how much it bothered me that Josh was taking numbers of women I work with, of women in general, in front of me or how that one future phone call could lead to a potential relationship with them. I glanced at him over my shoulder and regret it almost immediately. Damn, he looks so delicious with that devilish smile of his.

"Give me the best ones you got," he said.

"Pistachio cake it is."

As the coffee machine is brewing, I walked in the back room to the freezer and reached inside the cake selection. I licked my lips at the view; I always have a horrible temptation to eat of all these good sweets whenever I see them. I pulled out a piece of Josh's favorite cake and walked back out of the room to place the dessert in front of him before I went back to the coffee machine, knowing it was close to being done.

"It's surprisingly steady today," he said as I pour the batch in a mug and carried it to him. "Thanks." He took a tentative sip of it, humming in delight, and then he has a bite of his cake.

"It was busier earlier," I said. "I had to handle a rush by myself. I barely got everyone."

"That's rough. At least you survived or you wouldn't be talking to me right now."

"True." I pressed my lips together, narrowing my eyes at him. "I wouldn't have had the struggle if Ophelia had gotten back on time. She said she was distracted on the way back."

Josh licked his lips after he took a sip of his coffee. "Yeah, I met her on the way. She and Mikey seem to hit it off. She ask me to give him her number because she forgot to give it to him, saying she didn't want to get late."

I don't want to see how red my face is at the moment. Mikey was one of Josh's old roommates and best friend when they attended NYU in their final year. I met him when Josh and I used to date, and he was a good guy with a hilarious sense of humor. I instantly befriended him. I haven't seen him, though, since the horrid breakup between me and Josh. I am surprised to hear he connected well with Ophelia; she was more of a club-hopping kind of gal and he is all about fun but puts boundaries on activities that include alcohol and drugs.

"Oh," was all I said. I pretended to rearrange the napkin holder to avoid the smug smirk he has.

"Maya," began Josh. "I know you thought I was planning to hook up with Ophelia."

"So what if you were?" I tried to keep my voice placid. "It's none of my business who you hook up with. You could go out with half of the girls in New York and I still wouldn't care."

Josh remained stoic with his signature smirk. "Really?"

"Really."

Josh clicked his tongue. "So I guess you wouldn't mind if I went over to Ophelia right now and ask her to give me Susan's number. Maybe I'll take her on a date this Friday."

I bit my tongue. He, of all people, knows that I have a distaste towards Susan. She is the worst employee at Topanga's with all the times she called out, came late, and did a no call no show, making me or Ophelia do unwanted double shifts. Unfortunately she was needed during this season.

"Cool," I murmured.

Finally, the mask on Josh's face fell and it was replaced with sincere eyes along with an uncharming frown. He reached over to take my hands and rubbed his thumbs over my knuckles. The sensation made goosebumps rise on my arms as I savored the velvet smooth skin of his skin brush against mine. It has been so long since I felt this and the impact hit me twice as strong than I anticipated but it was more marvelous than the first time.

"Maya," he said. "You know me. You know I would never try to hook up with any of your friends or coworkers. That's disrespectful to you."

"I really don't care what you do, Matthews," I mumbled.

"Maya," he sighed.

"We broke up, Josh!" I hissed, finally losing my tolerance with him, and I snatched my hands away from his grasp. I probably seem borderline childish but I couldn't help it when it came to him; this boy, now a man, was my first love and to see him again, not being able to smother him with the love I held for him was too painful.

Josh glared at me. "It wasn't a mutual decision - you broke up with me. You ended the relationship and for no reason too. I can't see what I did to make you do that."

"You know why."

"Maya, I was careful with you. I did everything I could to make you comfortable with our relationship and to help you get over what happened with your father. I never once, once, pushed you to do anything out of your comfort zone. That night when we were about to have sex was your choice - I was slow in case you wanted to back out."

I bit my lip. Yes, I did break up with the boy I was in love with since seventh grade. Indeed, it was my choice to give up my virginity to Josh. I couldn't blame him for that. It was all my choice.

"It isn't my fault that after we were about to do it that you had an episode." His voice was now soft, his eyes were now gentle. "I really tried to be what you needed."

My heart clenched for him. I could hear the honesty in his voice and I believed every word. He never lies to me.

You're probably confused about him and I. I'll tell you the story; Josh is three years older than me and he is Riley's uncle and also the youngest brother of her father and my former teacher, Cory Matthews. I had a crush on him during my seventh year then it slowly molded into this unexpected love as the years went on by and in the middle of my freshmen year, he had confessed that he felt the same way as me but we didn't start dating until my senior year when the age difference wasn't a problem anymore.

We were together for four, almost five, unforgettable years until last year when I broke up with him. Had it turned out terrible? Yes. He didn't tell it so well and it was difficult for me to force myself to go along with my decision. Everything he said was true; he tried to be everything I needed but the night when I chose to try to give him my innocence, I went overboard and it ended up being the end of our relationship.

It put a strain of our close friendship, also made it complicated for Riley to stay balanced between her uncle and me, and there was also obvious tension between us whenever we are in the same room, but we never collided until today. To see him be so open about his efforts to me and the amount of respect he still held for me as a person, made me feel guilty to know I had broken his genuine heart over my fear of commitment and vulnerability

"I miss you, Maya," he said.

"Josh, I…"

I couldn't finish what I wanted to say; Ophelia came back with her bin full of dirty dishes and leaned closer to me. "Hey, Maya, I don't know if you heard the door but there's this really hot guy sitting at the corner over there."

"So?"

"I don't think he's a local."

"Oh goody. A fucking tourist."

"I don't think he's a tourist either. But I just don't think he lives around here. Maybe you should go up to him to make him feel more comfortable."

I look over at where she was pointing at; in the deep corner of the place was a figure of a man hunched over the menu with another man sitting beside him, talking animatedly and moving his hand in rapidly motions. Both of their backs are turned to us so I couldn't see their faces and rate the level of hotness Ophelia was geeking about. I could hear the other man laughing heartily and shaking his head as his friend continued to narrate.

"Look like tourists to me," I said, rolling my eyes.

"Wait until you see him."

"I doubt it'll make a difference."

"You know, Maya, sometimes I think you're gay. It's like no man in the world could ever make you glance over twice."

"Aw sweetheart, trust me, if I was gay, you'd be my first victim," I said sweetly, winking at her suggestively.

"Whatever," said Ophelia before she left into the back room.

I brought out the notepad and pen from the drawer behind the counter then I was about to make my way to the table but Josh had his arm out, blocking my path. I looked at him questionably and he stared back at me with lovely eyes.

"Do you think we could talk later if you're not busy?" he asked. "Is your number still the same?"

"It never changed."

"Can I give you a call later?"

"Um…" I licked my lips out of habit. "I'm pretty busy lately with finals and work. Maybe I'll let you know when everything dies down after graduation."

He looked disheartened yet he formed a smile either way, one wide enough to produced those dimples I find irresistible.

"Okay. Guess I'll see you around?"

"Yeah."

Josh got up and then he did something I didn't expect him to do; he bent his head down and pressed his soft lips against the dip of my cheeks, close to the corner of my mouth. I closed my eyes momentarily to revel in the effects of my heart trying to force itself out of my chest, trying to keep my breathing steady, wanting to remember the feel of him close to me again, and when I opened them again, he had lifted his face to kiss my forehead.

"See you around, little ferret," he whispered so quietly for me to hear only then he pulled back, gave me one last smile, before he turned away and walked out of the shop.

It wasn't until after I couldn't see his silhouette through the windows that I slowly let out a breath I didn't know I was holding and leaned against the counter, gripping on the edge like my life depended on it.

My knees were weak. My heart was out of control. My head was pounding. Oh man. He still has this affect on me. It's like a shocking reminder, a lightning bolt suddenly struck down on me, letting me know that despite the wide gap wedged between us, Josh is still somehow the man who could make me feel things I don't want to feel, and the heat was still there. The years never cooled it off.

I bit my lip and closed my eyes again as I inhaled deeply. It was my fault that the breakup happened - my fears overtook me that night and blinded me with what wasn't there. Josh was a good man, just like his brother, and he didn't deserve the hurt I caused him over my own selfish purposes. I exhaled through my nose and then swallowed heavily. Perhaps I will call him later after work and see where we could go with that talk of his.

I pushed myself off the counter and took hurried strides over to the table of the two men, trying to think up ways to die down the possibly permanent blush on my cheeks.

"Hi, I'm Maya, and welcome to Topanga's," I said, staring down at the notepad and rambled off with my usual waitress spiel. "What can I get you to drink?"

"What do you recommend, Miss Hunter?" asked a husky and familiar voice.

Frozen in awe, I lifted my eyes to find a casually dressed but awfully enticing Lucas Friar staring up at me with a polite smile. Holy crap. What the hell is he doing here, looking like a normal human being with his hair all tousled like he had gotten out of bed and in his simple white t-shirt and converse? He looked like one of the nicer locals of my neighborhood enjoying his days off. The sunlight beaming through the window made him glow, his hair a brighter brown, and brought warmth in his green eyes. He has an expression of deep pleasure painted on.

Beside him was the same man I saw leave his office weeks ago. I think the women there called him Mr. Babineaux. It sounds French to me. He was also dressed in casual clothes; a blue flannel shirt, khaki shorts, and a pair of clean Jordan's. There was a glint of interest in his dark eyes.

"Mr. Friar," I gasped.

"It's a pleasure to see you again, Miss Hunter," he said. "I'm quite surprised to see you here."

"Just Maya. I work here."

"Yes, I can see that."

"Since when do you come here? I've worked here for years and I never seen you come here."

"I don't normally leave the office," he grinned. "But I am in town for business - the board of Towers Hotel wanted to discuss with me about the details of the art exhibit. One of my employers recommended this place for it's high quality in caffeine and services. I can see now why."

I tried to not fumble with my notepad. If it is humanly possible, I think the acceleration of my heart increased tenfold and the blush on my face was more profound by his implied compliment. I couldn't stop myself from being thrown off by the mere sight of him; those faint dreams I've been having of him do not do him justice. He was not only attractive - he is the definition of a god, showing no mercy to any working ovaries that pass by, and he is sitting here in front of me. Here in Topanga's, a shop in Greenwich Village, New York.

"Flattery won't get you a free dessert," I said curtly. "Is there anything you would like to drink?"

"What would you recommend?"

"Our popular choices are either the cream caramel cappuccino and chocolate chip mochachino. But since you're going to be attending long meetings for your stay, I would recommend you try our espresso with a shot of melted cocoa. It is optional to add more energy boost if you like."

"I'll take that in consideration for next time," he said. Next time? I doubt that. "But for now I'll have a normal espresso. And for - oh, I forgot my manners." He clapped a hand on Mr. Babineaux's shoulder. "Maya Hunter, this is Zay Babineaux, my CFO. Zay, this is Maya Hunter."

"Pleasure," he said, extending his hand out to me and I took it kindly. "So you're the little fierce blonde beauty I heard so much about."

"Good things I hope," I said. I snuck a quick eye over to Lucas in question but he had looked away quickly, looking down at the menu, and I turned my eyes back to Zay out of embarrassment. In that brief glance, I thought his cheeks were lifted as if he was smiling.

"Only that you have quite the mouth," he chuckled. "I have to say that you gained my respect for that. You won't believe how difficult it is to keep him quiet - being CEO and all, he doesn't have a day to rest that tongue of his."

Pretty sure it's more than talking that's the problem. I cleared my throat as I slipped my hand back and scribbled down Lucas' order before I peered over at Zay expectantly.

"What would you be having to drink?" I asked, hoping to change the topic.

"Just a coffee is fine," he answered and I quickly wrote it down. "With light cream and two cubes of sugar."

"We don't have cubes - we have spoons."

"Then two teaspoons."

"And did you guys decide what kind of dessert you'd like or would you like me to come back later?"

"I'll just have a danish, sweetheart," said Zay; I twitched a little bit at the nickname and prevented myself from slapping him with the notepad. He rose up from his chair. "Is there a bathroom here?"

"Through that small hallway on your right."

"Thank you."

Zay send me a wink then he trudged down the path I directed him in. I rolled my eyes and turned back to Lucas to see him shaking his head while pinching the bridge of his nose. He then gave me an apologetic smile.

"I apologize on Zay's behalf for his behavior," he told me. "He can be a bit flirtatious."

"I've had worse," I responded. "At least he's more tamed about it than most guys. Otherwise, I would have slapped him all the way to Kansas."

Lucas Friar forms that provocative smile of his but it did not seem to reach his eyes, as it seems to be hidden under a facade, and I am getting the feeling that he is secretly laughing at me.

"Is there anything you want?" I asked bluntly. I just wanted to get away from this guy and this feeling in my gut.

"I heard that you guys have the best pumpkin pie - is that true?"

"My opinion would be biased."

"I would like a slice, please."

"Alright." I jotted it down. "I'll be back with your order."

I was going to turn away but Lucas stopped me by standing up and standing close to me, almost stepping into my personal space, his eyes staring at me intently.

"How long have you worked here?" he asked, intrigued. He was so close that I could smell the fresh mint on his breath and his aftershave. I had to stop myself from inhaling it in.

"Since I was sixteen," I said.

"Do you know any good hardware stores in the area?"

I blinked. I wasn't expecting that. I certainly didn't think he would ask me of all people for something that is considered to be part of the guy category. And what would this man that screams endless desire would look for in a hardware? I couldn't picture this walking Greek sculpture doing any home improvement work.

"It depends on what you're looking for, Mr. Friar," I said. "There's different hardware stores."

"I'm a little bit short of supplies I need," he answered. "Is there a hardware store that has rope, tape, and cable ties?"

I knitted my brows. Is he some sort of serial killer planning the perfect murder?

"Then you need to go to Garber Hardware." I took the chance to end this bizarre conversation and walked back to the counter to distract myself by making their orders. However, when I glanced over me, I could see him following me, not too close. "Is there anything else you wanted?"

"Yes." He wasn't hesitant. "I've been meaning to ask you; have you considered going to the grand opening of the art exhibit?"

"No," I said as I poured the coffee beans in the espresso machine, shut the lid, and then started the machine before I went to the other section to get started on his friend's coffee. "You know, Riley is over the moon of the article. She can't shut up about it."

"I hope she is feeling well these days."

"She is," I said as I opened a fresh pack of coffee beans and poured them in a small bowl before I used the block to grind them in. Our automatic coffee grinder needed to be repaired so I had to make the coffee from scratch in the way that my mother taught me. "She was back in her old peppy self in a blink of an eye."

"I'm assuming the article came along well?"

"She and her journalist club are still putting together the finishing touches of her last newspaper," I replied, grunting slightly as I continued to pound in the beans in the bowl. "Riley is having a hard time looking for a really good original photo of you."

"If she likes, I'll be in town for only two days and my schedule is open for tomorrow morning for a quick photo shoot," he suggested. He then reached in his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. "I'm staying at the Towers Hotel. Here is my card - my cell number is on it. If your friend, Miss Matthews, is still interested then call me before ten tonight and I'll rent a room for the morning."

Awestruck, I took the card and grinned. "Riles is gonna get her socks knocked off. You don't know how thrilled she'll be."

I traced the edges of the card with the pads of my fingers. In tiny prints it spelled out his name and his business in an elegant script. Underneath in even smaller texts was his contact information. Lucas Friar gave me his business card. I was not dazzled by the fact this gorgeous man had given me his number but I had a right to be excited for Riley.

"It's my pleasure. I could even find a professional photographer if she wants."

"That won't be an issue - we have a great photographer."

I poured the grinded beans in the machine and refilled the water socket before I closed the lid then started the machine. I smiled at him broadly in gratitude - Riley is going to be beyond thrilled. His lips parted, as he the breath within him suddenly disappeared, and then he pressed them together as he cleared his throat. For a fraction of a second, he looked enchanted.

"Let me pay for that now," he said abruptly as he opened his wallet and held out his credit card to me. I took it while looking at him skeptically. He looked somewhat frazzled, almost like he was bashful, losing his cool demeanor momentarily, before it shortly disappeared with the enigmatic smirk.

Oh wow.

He never took his eyes off me as I rang up the coffee, espresso, and two desserts.

"That will be eleven-forty-eight," I said. He was unfazed, as I expected, considering he's a millionaire. I swiped the card then handed it back to him, along with the receipt. "I'll have your order ready in a few minutes."

"Take your time - I'm in no rush," he insisted. "In the meantime, tell me more about yourself."

"I thought we already had this conversation, Mr. Friar," I retorted. I felt a strong urge to bite my lip. It wasn't every day a man like Lucas Friar sparked an interest in a street rat like me.

"I'm just curious," he said. "How long have you lived in New York?"

"All my life."

"And that boy you were talking to earlier - is he your boyfriend?"

My eyebrows furrowed. His eyes flickered into a look of judgement. Why was he so concern in my relationship status? The chances of him actually being interested in me in a romantic were very slim. Maybe it was payback for the interview.

"No."

"Do you have a boyfriend?"

Oh, this was definitely payback. I cocked my head to the side and said with a sarcastic smile, "I don't disclosure my life, Mr. Friar. I'm sure you out of anyone would understand that."

His smirk blossomed. "Fair enough."

Just then, the machines let out a beep. I quickly pulled out two mugs and poured the beverages in each. Then I reached in the oven case to bring out the danish for Zay before I went to the fridge in the back room to carry out a slice of the pumpkin pie for Lucas. I saw him sip tentatively on his coffee, humming in delight, and licked his lips in appreciation.

"Delicious," he said. "You make excellent coffee, Miss Hunter. I'm sure Zay will enjoy his when he comes back."

"Thank you."

"And here, this is for you. "

He withdrew a large bill from his wallet and pushed it into my hand. Our fingers brushed briefly, and my arm shook as an electrical current shot through into my nerves, making me gasp involuntarily. The sensation traveled throughout my body and then bundled up deep down in the forbidden, unexplored, depths of my abdomen. I'm sure he must have felt it too, seeing as he has not removed his hand from my palm and the intensity of his eyes was suffocating.

I inhaled quietly then looked at the bill stuck between our hands, excited to get my first personalized tip in weeks, only to be repulsed. Fifty dollars!

"I can't accept this," I said crudely and shoved the bill back in his hand. He seemed dumbfounded by my reaction but quickly recovered.

"No, I insist." Lucas pushed it back in my hand. "You earned it."

"No!" I argued and tried to give it back to him.

"Yours, Miss Hunter."

He was trying to seem chivalrous but in reality his unnecessarily big tip made me feel filthy. Most people would take the opportunity to grab easy money - I loathed being given such a huge gesture. I did not scream poor nor desperate. I bank account may not be overflowing like his but that doesn't mean I was a charity case.

"Seriously, I'm not taking this," I protested. "A simple two dollar tip is enough me. Your order isn't worth anything above that. It's more reasonable."

"Well, I can be considered an unreasonable man sometimes." His voice boomed. A stern expression grew upon his flawless face and his green eyes burned strongly as they locked on me. "Take it!"

Seeing as I was still refusing his offer, Lucas snatched up the fifty-dollar bill and waved it in my face. Tugging on the front of my apron with little force, he shoved the large tip inside and made a pleased smirk at me. The aggression in his voice had startled me; I was paralyzed. The abrupt movements and the decreased space between us made my cheeks grow warmer.

"Take. Your. Hand. Off. Me." I hissed in a low, slow tone.

"Are you going to keep the tip?"

"I'll keep it if you take your hand off me. Or else, your ass is going to have an unpleasant meeting with my foot up in it."

"Good," he replied, putting his wallet away and releasing the pocket of my apron. Straightening his shirt, his whole posture changed drastically from that assertive man into a calm and heartwarming person. "I suppose I'll let you do your business." His tone is clipped and coo, he was all business. "I'll be waiting for your call about the photo shoot soon, I presume?"

"I'll think about it."

"Good. Until tomorrow, I hope." He gathered the coffees and dessert, impressively, in his arms and he makes a move to turn to leave but he pauses to send an ominous smile at me over his shoulder. "Oh - and it was a pleasure speaking with you, Maya. I hope to run into you again sometime."

Then he strides in a graceful fashion back to his table and I watch him in a daze as he sat down. In that same moment, Zay Babineaux returns from the restroom and he joins Lucas; they instantly resumed on their previous conversation, leaving me baffled at how well Lucas could seem like he was not here a second ago, consuming me in a bubbles that left my raging hormones running rampant from his sudden mood changes. I spend several minutes staring at their backs, seeing them speak in low voices, before my subconscious finally returned to me and I was back to Earth.

I glanced behind me, but saw no one. Ophelia had not witnessed what just occurred and the other customers were too preoccupied with their own lives or they just did not care. Digging my hand into my front pocket, I pulled out the fifty-dollar bill and stared at it in distaste. It was mocking me and I was furious. That bastard had no right. Then I looked at his business card. A part of me - a very small part of me, the part which is birthed by Satan himself - was tempted to leave him a profane message, letting him have a piece of my mind, but I quickly crushed it as the large part of me - the one which I like to call Dorothy based by Riley's good influence on me - overtook my devious urges.

"Maya!" shouted Jonathan, breaking me out of my scrambled thoughts. "I don't understand this one! Can you help me?"

I shoved both the tip and card in my apron as I made my way to Jonathan, who held an exaggerated pout of desperation towards me, making me smile fondly at him. Looking at him was like a breath of fresh air - he was a normal person.

My foot banged against the leg of a chair, causing me to lose my balance for a moment, but I recovered quickly and continued to approached Jonathan with greater success like I didn't almost fall to the possible doom of my dignity. I stared straight ahead as I reached Jonathan and I started to look over his equations whilst he recited his teacher's explanation of the subject, but from a peripheral peek, I could have sworn I saw Lucas laughing.

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