A/N: Little bit of M rated content in this chapter.

"Jo." He's knocking on the door so hard and so loud that his knocks are all I can hear. I can't even hear myself think. I just hear him knocking, knocking and calling my name. Just let me think. "Jo, open up….come on, open up." Why won't he just leave me alone? I just need to think on my own. Please just leave me alone. I take a step away from my door and put my hands on my head. I feel myself breaking. It's like the seams holding me together and popping and I'm going to break down sooner or later. He just needs to go away so I can think. "Open the door, Jo!" No! Oh my god, just go away. Still and yet, my legs have a mind of their own and they walk themselves over to the door. I put my hand on the handle and choke. He just tried to kiss me. He was going to kiss me. He leaned in, closed his eyes, tilted his head and started to actually kiss me. Why would he do that? He doesn't want to kiss me. He can't kiss me. I take my hand away from the doorknob and turn back around to walk to my bed. I don't know what to do. I put my back against the door and slide down it until I'm sitting down. I pull my knees up into my chest and rest my forehead against them. "Jo? Please open up. Just let me explain, okay? For two seconds." I don't have two seconds to give. Just GO AWAY.

I feel my throat closing up. A lump forms in the back of my throat and my eyes start to sting from unshed tears. I wanted to kiss him, I did. It felt like the right thing to do would have been to kiss him. Everything inside of me told me to lean in right with him. Every bone in my body, every impulse I had just led me to leaning in, tilting my head, closing my eyes and kissing him the way he wanted to kiss me. But I felt like if our lips touched, I would've thrown up in his mouth. When I saw him start to close in on me like that, I knew he was leaning towards a kiss. I knew exactly what he was doing. And I wanted to kiss him, I swear I did. But I got so scared. It's like my whole body just went cold and I froze and I couldn't even remember how to kiss anyone. I've been kissed before, sure. I've kissed a lot of guys before and I know how to kiss and I've actually been told that I'm a good kisser. But I couldn't kiss him. I couldn't even think about kissing him. Just the thought of kissing him makes me sick. He makes me sick. And it's not in the way that people usually sicken me. No, this kind of sick is like somebody punched me in my stomach. Like I get all choked up and I can't breathe whenever I'm around him because I just can't stand the thought of me looking anything less than perfect for him. I get all nervous and my palms sweat when he looks at me and I just feel like I need to be perfect. And it scares me. I'm scared.

He finally stopped knocking, but I know he's still there because he's still calling me. Why won't he just leave me alone? Was my chest-push too subtle for him? I told him not to kiss me. I even slammed the door in his face for crying out loud. Why won't he just leave me alone? "…Jo, will you just open the door? Please?" I shake my head as if he can see me and bury my face in my knees. What's wrong with me? My shoulders hunch and my stomach churns as the tears just roll out of my eyes. What is the matter with me? Why does he make me so crazy? I sniff and wipe my eyes with the pads of my thumbs. I just want to be his friend. We're friends, right? Me and him…friends? I don't know what's wrong with me or why he makes me so crazy. I've never felt this way about anybody before. I don't know what this is but I need him to just leave me the hell alone. I don't want to feel this way. I don't like feeling this way. "Alright…I'm going to my room. But please come talk to me, whenever you're ready..." I can tell he's genuine, just by the sound of his voice. His usual brash, gruff, sarcasm-filled voice is softer this way, persuasive almost. I wipe my eyes again and look at the crack underneath the door. I watch the shadows of his feet walk away.

I put my hands on my knees and pick myself up off the floor. I can't face him after I ran away from kissing him. I just can't. I need a while for it to become a little less awkward than what it already is. I mean, I basically just rejected him. And even worse than that, I rejected him out of something that I really wanted to do. I wanted to kiss him just as much as it seemed like he wanted to kiss me. But I chickened out. I got scared, I chickened out and I ran away from him. How do I face him after that? He probably thinks that I just didn't want to kiss him and I'm not attracted to him or whatever, which I guess is partially true. I did want to kiss him and I would like to have sex with him sure, but I'm really not interested in anything more than that. I can't see myself with him. I'm just really not in the position to have a boyfriend right now. I've never really even had a boyfriend before so I'm really not even sure how to be a girlfriend, but I know for sure that if I ever were to have a boyfriend, I wouldn't want him to be like Alex. I'm not interested in being his girlfriend, but I swear I wanted to kiss him. What makes you think he'd want you to be his girlfriend anyway, Jo? What if he feels the exact same way? What if he just wants to kiss you because…he just wanted to kiss you? What if he doesn't even want to be your boyfriend? I walk to the bathroom of my hotel room and immediately start running my shower water. I just need to take a shower and clear my thoughts. I need to clear my mind. Without even thinking, I whip around the bathroom and put out a towel, a washcloth and start coming out of my clothes. Subconsciously I remember that I wanted to at least shave my legs tonight, so I find my way back to my bedroom and snatch a razor from my bag.

I'm just so in over my head with all of this. I'm way, way in over my head. I pull the shower door back and get inside. I slam it shut behind me because that seems to be the theme for tonight…slamming doors and such. How could I want to kiss somebody as bad as I just wanted to kiss him ten minutes ago, but run away when the time comes to do it? What am I? Since when have I been this big of a chicken? I just don't get how I can spend all my time just fantasizing about him but when he tries to make a move, I chicken out? And I get all these weird feelings when I'm in his presence. I don't know why he makes me so nervous. I know why he intimidates me. He's wealthy, he's successful…he's just an intimidating man. Not to mention he's big and he's muscular and that's intimidating in itself. I can pinpoint exactly why he intimidates me but why does he make me nervous? And why do I feel so freaking weird around him? This has literally never happened to me before.

I just need to get him off my mind. I just have to stop even thinking about him in any way that's more than a friend. Because I swear, that's all I want to be is his friend. He is so incredibly sexy and I fantasize about him a lot but it's nothing that I ever think I'd act on. It's more like a crush. I have a crush on him and he makes me so crazy when I think about him in a sexual way, but I'm not interested in being anything more than his friend. I can't get attached to someone like him. Someone like him could never really like someone like me. I mean, let's get real. He wouldn't even give me a second look if I was out on the street. The only reason he's even talking to me is because he doesn't have a choice. I'm not pretty, I'm not sexy and I can't set myself up to think that I ever have a chance with someone like him. And not to mention, once we get to California, I'll never see him again. I'm going to Massachusetts and he's staying in California and that'll be the end of everything. I'm so in over my head. I'm jumping from feeling to feeling, from conclusion to conclusion and my mind is just reeling. I can't keep my head focused and wrapped around one single thing for any longer than two seconds.

I still haven't even wrapped my mind around the fact that he's the author of my favorite book. He writes beautiful, brilliant love stories. Love stories so beautiful that I can't even imagine how he…a man that could be so callous and heartless…could sit down and write. He of all people wrote the most beautiful book I've ever encountered. The emotions in The Hour are so raw, and real and they just suck you in. And he wrote that. It's clear to me now that he's Michael Evans. I know for a solid fact that he is the man that wrote the book that I've fallen in love with. But it just doesn't feel real to me. And I don't think it will feel real until I hear him say it himself. Right now, I know deep down within my heart that he's Michael Evans. But I can't prove it and I can't say without a shadow of doubt in my mind that he totally is him. Because what if he isn't? I just need him to confirm my suspicions. If he can write something as beautiful as The Hour though, maybe he's not so bad. Maybe he's secretly a hopeless romantic or something like that.

It's not until I insentiently reach forward to shut off the shower water that I realize I just took a shower without even thinking about it. I washed my entire body, I washed my face, I even shaved my legs without ever breaking my thoughts. My mind's been too invested in kisses, crushes, mixed up feelings and beautiful novels to even realize that I was going through the motions of taking a shower. I guess it works though, because I'm clean and I shaved just like I wanted to. On a different note, I don't know why my leg hair grows back faster than my armpit hair and my crotch hair. I haven't shaved my pits or my crotch in two weeks and they still don't even need it. But the hair on my head and the hair on my legs grows back at the speed of light, I swear. Honestly though, the good part about not having a sex life is the fact that I don't really have to groom myself that often. When I do groom myself, I do it because I'm tired of being hairy. I have this weird thing with body hair, it's actually kind of sick. I just don't like to be hairy. I hate, hate, hate, hate for any part of my body aside from my head, to be hairy. I shave my arm hair, my leg hair, my crotch hair, my armpit hair, even my back hair if I can reach it.

I never did know my birth parents but I think they come from Italian roots or something because I'm just one big ball of fur, really. I'm naturally hairy and it sickens me. But since I don't have a sex life and I'm not currently living to impress anybody, I can go long-ish without shaving things if I want to. I don't even know when my obsession with body hair started, all I know is that I started shaving my legs after I started my period. I shaved them by myself once and cut myself real bad so my mom shaved them for me until I was 13 and could handle a razor better. I really don't even know what possessed her to trust her eleven and a half year old daughter to use a razor in the first place, but whatever. I know most girls you talk to will tell you that they hate their period, but I swear to goodness, I really do hate mine. At eleven and a half, I was one of the first girls in my class to actually get it. So when I had to come to school carrying a purse full of my pads, everybody knew what the purse was for. Honestly, it was just another reason for people to pick on me. Personally, I think eleven and a half is way too young to start that kind of womanly stuff but whatever. I just remember how mortified I was when I first got it.

"…Mommy?" I walk into the kitchen but stand close to the doorway. She's standing at the counter cutting up carrots to eat with the pot roast for dinner tonight. She stops cutting the carrots and looks at me. "Do we have bandaids? Or something?" I need a Band-Aid for something but I'm not exactly sure for what. I haven't been feeling good all day and I felt really bad in school today. My stomach was hurting and I felt kind of sick to my stomach. I laid down when I got home before I started my homework. But I just went to go pee upstairs and I had some blood. I don't know where I'm bleeding but I didn't really look to see where I got a cut at or anything. I just need a Band-Aid. My underwear feel weird because they're all sticky and gross so I'm trying to stand with my legs apart. I still don't feel good though.

"Are you bleeding, honey? Lemme have a look." She puts down the knife and rushes over to me. Mommy gets really weird about my aches and pains. She's just overly cautious about everything. She just never wants me to be in any pain, she never wants me to suffer through anything. So anytime I have an ailment and I tell her about it, she's all neurotic and she has to make sure it's not serious. "Where are you hurt? Lemme see it."

"…You can't." I look around the kitchen. She's looking at me like she's really worried but she's still expecting me to tell her where I'm hurt. "Not in the kitchen…" Not in the kitchen, because daddy's home and it's kind of a girl thing. It's personal. "I'm just bleeding…just give me a Band-Aid." Now I know she's not just going to give me a Band-Aid and shut up about it like I would like for her to, but it's worth a shot. Mom can never just give me Band-Aids or medicine and shut up about it. She always has to assess the damage. Always.

"Where are you bleeding, Jo?" She puts her hands on my shoulders. I can't tell her. That's weird. I mean, she's saw me naked before. I've been with them since I was eight years old. She used to wash me up in the bathtub to make sure I would get behind my ears (because when I bathed myself, I would always miss something crucial. Give me a break though. I wasn't used to showering every day), so yeah she's saw me naked. But this is a totally different issue. It's weird to tell her. "Did this happen in the bathroom, Jo?" She asks. I nod my head and look at the floor. "…Okay, honey. It's okay." She gives me a hug and rubs my back. "Come on…come on." She starts walking me to the downstairs bathroom. "Bill, I need you to run down to the pharmacy. I need you to pick me up…" She leaves me alone and walks over to dad. They start whispering amongst each other.

I'm not a stupid kid. I know what's happening to me. I just thought that maybe I'm too young for this to happen right now. Ii thought because I'm too young, I just had a cut or something down there. I didn't think it was what it actually is but I guess it is. I know about girls and what happens when girls' bodies are ready to have babies. I'm not too young for this? I don't want to be ready to have a baby though. I still think I'm too young for this. I don't want her to buy me those things you put in your underwear. Can I have a puppy instead?

Really, all I remember about getting my period is wanting a puppy instead of pads. Mom tried to send dad down to the pharmacy to pick up a pack of pads but he freaked out and ended up staying home and watching dinner while mom went. She came back with a pack of maxi-pads and a carton of chocolate ice cream. It wasn't a puppy, but I took the ice cream anyway. The first time I got my period was the last time I ever remember it being like a period. I don't get my period every month and it's never real heavy and it only lasts a few days at a time. It was never that bad again, after the first time I got it. Anyway, I reach back and pull the ponytail holder holding my hair back out. I slide the ponytail holder on my wrist and shake my head to let my hair tumble down from the bun I put it up in to take my shower. I didn't feel like washing my hair tonight and if it gets wet, it automatically waves up and gets knotty and I'd just rather not deal with it. So I tied it up to prevent it from getting wet. I grab a pair of black lace underwear out of my bag and put them on. I pull a black and orange Princeton Tigers t-shirt over my head and put on the same pair of shorts I wore to bed last night.

Okay, so my shower really helped. I feel so much better after that. My mind is clear, my thoughts aren't foggy and I'm not so confused. I'm hungry though, and Alex said to go to his room when I'm ready to order dinner. I've just decided that I'm not going to talk about the fact that he almost kissed me. If he tries to talk about it, I'll blow it off like it's nothing and we just won't talk about it. We'll go back to being friends. I'm not sure if I should apologize for basically blowing him off. I mean, I don't think he's mad at me for it. But what if he is? What if he's mad? He's the only person I've got right now and he's my only way to Massachusetts. Should I just apologize? No. Don't talk about it unless he brings it up. Just don't say anything about it. I turn off all the lights in my room, grab my cell phone and open up my door. I shut the door behind myself and walk the two feet next to my door to his room. I stand outside his door and knock twice. The almost kiss happened like 45 minutes ago. I'm over it and he probably is too.

So we're going to be at his mother's house tomorrow. I don't really think I have any business being around his family though. I mean, me and Alex are friends, sure. But we're not to the point where I should be spending time around his family or anything like that and I feel like it's going to be mighty awkward tomorrow if I do end up spending time around his family. I wonder if he'll mind dropping me off at the Laundromat while he's visiting with his mother. I have some dirty clothes that I need to wash and I could do a few hours of laundry while he's visiting with his family. Hell, I'll even wash his clothes if he needs me to. I just really don't feel like spending awkward time with people I don't know. Plus, I don't feel like explaining to them that no, I'm not the girl that Alex brought home to meet his mother. I'm not that kind of girl. I'm just a friend…a friend whose house got burned down. No screw that, I'm a charity case. A charity case that he's toting along across the country. I'm not the girl that comes home to meet mom. Just as I fold my arms across my chest, his door opens. "You're not room service…" Is the first thing he says when the door is opened. He's soaking wet, wearing nothing but a towel around his waist. His chest is all wet, his hair is dripping and he's so… God, I can't help it.

I don't know what's come over me, but I take a step towards him and my hands instantaneously go for his head. I raise myself up on my tiptoes so I can reach his mouth. My head tilts to the side, my eyes close and rather quickly, my face closes in towards his. My lips meet with his and his lips are so soft. Much to my surprise, he accepts the kiss by parting his lips and shoving his tongue deep into my mouth. He puts his hands around my waist and pulls me into his room, never breaking the kiss while we move. Our tongues dance around each other in circles as he turns me so I'm completely in his room and he's on the outer side. He takes one of his hands away from my waist to shut the door and it slams behind the two of us. Still kissing me with burning hot intensity, he backs me over to his bed. My hands are sliding through his wet hair. What the hell are you doing, Jo? What are you doing? Swiftly, he moves his hands from around my waist down to the backs of my legs. To help him out with what I know he's trying to do, I lightly jump up and he blissfully grabs my legs and puts them around his waist. So he doesn't drop me, I hook them around his waist and lock them. I want him to take that towel off so badly.

With our lips still smashed against each other and with his hands supporting my weight up underneath my butt, he slowly walks me to his bed. I don't know what just happened. I saw him and I couldn't help it. Why would he answer the door in that goddamn towel? I have my arms around his neck so he leans down to the bed to make the drop shorter for me. He lies my back against the bed and lies on top of me. As my tongue is darting in and out of his mouth, he's lightly scraping his teeth across my tongue every time it comes out of his mouth. He's driving me so crazy with that. He stops kissing me so intensely and softens it up a bit. I can't help myself. I slide my hands down to his waist where his towel is. But I just leave them still. I don't pull on the towel, I don't try to take it off. He's rock hard, I can feel it against my inner thigh. Likewise, my underwear are sticking between my legs because I'm starting to get wet. It's a good thing his body is already wet, otherwise he'd be able to feel that I am. He moves his mouth down just a little and starts to suck on my bottom lip. I buck my hips into his pelvis...I want him so bad right now.

Matching my movements, he pushes his pelvis down into mine and rocks slowly at first then faster until it's finally a soft but clear, steady, movement that mimics a hump. He moves his mouth completely from mine and starts kissing his way down to my neck. He can't kiss me there. If he kisses my neck, there's no coming back from that. Almost desperately, I make him move his mouth back to my lips. If he kisses my neck, this is going to escalate into more than just a heavy makeout session because my neck really, really gets me going. He's already grinding his body against me, making me wetter and wetter…if he starts kissing my neck, I don't know if I can take that. He starts kissing me again but it's not as intense as it was a second ago. In fact, he slows it way, way down. He draws his face back away from mine gradually. I open my eyes up and find that he's looking down at me. My hands are still on the back of his neck and his hands are around my hips. His eyes are so beautiful. They're brown, of course. But not that boring, crappy brown. I find them utterly hypnotizing. He's looking down at me like no man has ever looked at me before. I move my hand from the back of his neck to his cheek. He leans his face back down to mine and kisses my lips softly, without any tongue this time. Then, he kisses my cheek. I watch his teeth clench around his bottom lip like he's frustrated with something, but he steadies himself and gets off of me.

I immediately sit up on the bed and fix myself up, trying to forget about what just happened. What the hell did you just do, Jo...

A/N: Okay so this is kind of short, but I really wanted to leave it on a note that makes you guys think. Plus, it's getting late and I'm tired & I have school tomorrow. Oh and I'm just wondering if any of you guys happened to pick up on that thing about Alex's childhood that I was talking about? I skimmed over it a couple chapters ago in a flashback. If you didnt catch on, you'll know what i'm talking about next chapter when he visits his mom.

Also, Jo's flashback this chapter will kind of be important in later chapters, so just make sure you got the idea of it

p.s. if you guys that are guest reviewers ever have questions for me that you can't PM, leave them in my tumblr ask. I'll answer your questions there and it's just more convenient for me to answer them on tumblr than to address them at the ends of chapters.