Thank you to everyone who's read the story and a special thanks to those who reviewed/faved/follow. Sorry for the length of this chapter, I didn't know where to break it up. I'm now paranoid that it feels forced, still, I hope you enjoy! I don't own anything New Girl.

~Slow night bartending~

He'd just finished wiping down the bar for the tenth time since he'd gotten there, forty-nine minutes ago. His nine customers, three of which were regulars, had not been particularly chatty tonight. He even tried to start up a conversation about conspiracy theories with Raymond, just to muzzle his thoughts of her.

They'd spent the entire day at the convention trying to convince each other that the kiss had meant nothing to either one of them. He'd even tried to get her to admit that wanting to run away with Sam proved it meant something to her. But later that night, he couldn't stand to see her cry anymore. So, he'd promised to never kiss her again and if that promise would give him back her friendship, he would keep it.

There was one thing bugging him about that night though. He could have sworn - after their weird hug in the hall - when he'd said "let's not ever do that again", she'd actually said "do it again". Like maybe she wouldn't mind it so much if he hugged her again sometime. Which could also mean she wasn't completely sure about not wanting him to kiss her again either. He wondered if this realization was what caught her off guard, forcing out that bizarre "Night Miller" comment. So, he had to admit to the tiniest bit of satisfaction of her recent avoidances. Was she running?

Of course there was still that nasty pessimist living inside him, telling him he'd read it all wrong, that the kiss actually hadn't meant anything to her. That her response had been instinctual; she'd just gotten caught up in the moment. Thinking back on all the times he's admitted to being attracted to her, she'd either squeamishly struggled for words, or she'd made the kinds of comments a friend would make to extinguish the other's insecurities. And let's face it; he was lousy with the stuff.

His mind had gone back and forth like this ever since his talk with Cece. What had she been trying to tell him?

The limited interaction between him and Jess has been similar to before the kiss, but they always stayed a safe distance from each other. Usually there was some kind of literal obstacle between them, like the kitchen island or table. In confined spaces like the bathroom or on the couch, they made sure they were never alone for more than two seconds. Their conversations were always insignificant; sticking to topics like weather and new movies coming out.

Although, he was pretty sure movies were off the table now too.

About a week ago, when they were eating breakfast and talking about Warm Bodies, Jess was more spirited than he'd seen her in weeks. She was convinced, even with the zombies, she wouldn't have to cover her eyes during the entire movie. He was having such a good time disagreeing with her and teasing her about how easy it was to scare her. It had felt so normal, he didn't even think about what he said next. "I'll bet you $20, when we go see it, you'll be hiding your face against my chest and squealing before the dancing popcorn guy is even off the screen."

Her cheeks flushed and the conversation ended with both of them mumbling about the things they had to do and looking anywhere but at each other.

So, this was his life now. Standing behind a bar, with patrons whose stories he'd heard more than enough times, thinking of her.


Back at the loft he tossed his keys by the door and blessed the late hour. Winston would be at work and Schmidt would be sleeping. Jess was probably in bed too, but he moved quickly to his room anyway. He changed out of his work clothes and sat down to check his email. He really needed to stop signing up for so much junk mail. Overstock, he'd never even bought anything from them. Ripley's Believe or Not, definitely not. The AKC, no dogs allowed in the loft. Starbucks, .ever. Word of the Day, he kind of liked that one actually. LinkedIn, he was a bartender for Christ's sake.

Then there was the littering of Viagra and penile enlargement emails. He'd like to think he'd never need either of those particular items. "Ha, wouldn't it be funny if Zombies did?" He grabbed his note pad to jot down the idea and noticed something written down on a post-it.

www SoulSearchers dot com

You're welcome,

Cece

Nick pulled up a browser and entered in the site address. The front page was covered with happy looking people staring longingly into each other's' eyes. Across the top it read "Are you searching for a soul to match your own? You've come to the right place! Sign up for free and start your journey towards happiness today."

"Ugg, what the hell, Cece?" he said to his empty room. Was he really looking so pathetic that people were going to start recommending online dating to him? He was lonely, sure. But those sites are full of crazies like Angie and women in their mid-thirties listening to their uterine clock counting down. "Nooohohoo, no, nope, not happening." Soul Searchers, what a stupid name!

Well…there were a lot of pretty girls on the front page and they didn't really look so bad. It could be good research for another novel.

"Okay, I am a man, looking for a woman. CONTINUE. Zipcode. CONTINUE. Name, Jamarcus Armstrong, that's a good strong name. CONTINUE." The screen in front of him filled with 137 women who had screen names ranging from absurd to sort of witty. HotBod9320, ApplOfYrEye, HotAlienHost47 (there were forty-six before this?).

He opened the advanced search to narrow his results. "Age 25-35 and is a non-smoker. Salary of less than $40,000 a year. Don't need to be disappointing before they even get to know me, right? Can you really choose a size? Okay, petit. And, enter. Who the hell am I talking to?"

Twenty one matches remained.

DallasDebi4U – 28, blond, green eyes, barista, 5'5", athletic. Loves dogs, watching football, plays tennis. Favorite color is green, to match her eyes. Favorite food is veggie pizza. Favorite book is Marley and Me, also her favorite movie.

FloridaRelo1690 – 31, blond, blue eyes, retail manager, 5'4", thin. Loves shopping, nights out with the girls, and traveling. Favorite color is sky blue. Favorite food is sushi. Favorite book is The Secret. Favorite movie is The Notebook.

NoSafeW0rds – 35, red hair, green eyes, specialty store owner, 5'5", shapely. Loves motorcycles, lightning storms, and reptiles. Favorite food steak. Favorite book is 50 Shades of Grey. Favorite movie is Fight Club.

ItsJustJess – 33, brunette, blue eyes, teacher, 5'6", average. Loves spending time with her friends, helping students, and pajamas. Favorite color is yellow, like the sun. Favorite food is cupcakes. Favorite book is anything from the Curious George series. Favorite movie, anything with a happy ending.

His jaw dropped when he read the description. Clicking on the profile, he just stared at the attached image. It was a candid photo, not posed, focusing on boobs and pouty lips. Heavy dark curls framed her delicate features perfectly. The smile was warm and honest, beautifully lighting up her eyes which somehow looked both kind and mischievous at the same time.

His chest constricted at the implication. His moment had passed, she was moving on.