A/N: Thanks for reading and reviewing. I'm pretty pissed that this site has gotten rid of my -----. I don't get it. Are we not allowed to separate sections? Yeah, I 'm sure it's the thousands of ---- that have been crashing the site.

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Seth POV

"Are you ready?" I asked, walking into Summer's showroom. She was with someone who looked vaguely familiar –possibly one of those television 'presenters' who seemed to work everywhere while having no real discernable talent. The bleach blonde woman barely acknowledged my presence and I was in the process of returning the favor when Summer ordered me to wait for her in her office.

I was sitting in her chair, staring at her flowery, multicolored screensaver when she walked into the room

"What are you doing here?" she demanded, right after she pulled out the pin that had been lodged between her teeth.

"We're supposed to have lunch, remember?"

She sighed. "Well, that's not happening. This bitch is whining about how she saw a dress similar to hers on MTV so she wants to make some 'adjustments.' Hello, isn't she a little too old to be watching MTV? And she wonders why no one takes her seriously. Anyway, she's now complaining that I didn't take the right measurements because the dress is a little tight. Except, yeah, it is, but not because I measured incorrectly. Nope. It's because she's probably gained like ten pounds. God her thighs are huge!"

I nodded even though I didn't quite agree. From what I saw, the airhead was in perfect shape but what did I know? You had to be a girl to see some of these 'flaws.'

"Anyway, Cohen, I'm not going to be able to take lunch for at least another hour, so maybe tomorrow?" she asked, feeling around her messy desk for something.

"That's fine, I'll wait," I said, my eyes following her hands.

"What? Won't your lunch break have ended?"

"So?"

She frowned and shook her head in disappointment. "You're so lazy. If you were my employee, I would have fired you a long time ago." She pulled out the couch cushions and looked under them.

"Well, you're not." My gaze followed her as she got on all fours and started feeling underneath the couch. "What are you looking for?"

She looked up at me, scratched the side of her neck then frowned. "The dumb twit out there claims she left her earring in here. God, could this day get any worse?"

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"So I finally figured out what my job is," I said, biting into my huge bacon burger. The 'special sauce' oozed over my finger so I licked it off to keep it from slipping further and staining my shirt.

We were sitting together at one side of the table so that we could both people-watch. Well, I didn't want to have to stare at the people sitting inside the restaurant while Summer wanted to people-watch.

"You're not listening to me," I protested.

"I am. You said you now know what your job is." Summer replied, tossing her fork around and playing with her with low carb, low fat, organic salad.

"Yep. Do you want to know what it is?"

Her eyes only half open, she gave me a sidelong glance and said, "Do I look like I care?"

She didn't but when did that ever stop me? "Well, I'm going to tell you anyway. I get to proofread and analyze all the information we've gathered before it's sent to the big bosses."

"Like what?"

I picked up a few fries and dipped them in ketchup. "You know... all the stuff we've done."

"Cohen, what exactly does that mean?"

"Well, I haven't figured that out yet, but I do know that I have to make sure stuff is right before it gets sent up."

She pushed her salad away and leaned back in her chair. "You're so pathetic, you know that?" She reached for her bottle of pretentious water with a French name that I was sure was probably made in Iowa, and poured some in her glass.

"What did I do now?"

"Seth, it's been over seven months now – get over it and grow the fuck up." She reached into her pocket, took out one of those elastic things women put their hair in, and pulled her hair into a ponytail.

"Whatever, Summer. I'm grown."

"No, you're not. You're boring. You and Ryan are friends now, it's time for you to move on and stop letting your life stagnate."

I stuffed some more fries in my mouth and decided they didn't have enough salt so I grabbed the shaker and vigorously shook it over my plate. Like I really needed Summer to give me a lecture. I knew I couldn't mooch off my parents forever plus, it's damn near impossible to realize that you've never stopped loving someone and wanting her to love you in return if you've not thought of moving on. The damn future was all I could think about.

"I'll have you know," I said between sips of vanilla milkshake, "that I've been making plans. I never wanted to work for The Newport Group so I'll be leaving soon."

"Yes?" She reached for her lunch and made another attempt to eat it.

"Yep, I've been thinking of moving back to New York."

Her fork momentarily stopped in mid-air before she turned to me with what I presumed was anger in her eyes and declared, "You're such an asshole, Cohen."

"Now what?" What the hell? Just a minute earlier she'd told me to grow up and instead of asking questions like, "Do you plan to get your old job back?" "Are you planning to live with Ryan?" "When do you think you're leaving?" and other questions that would give me an excuse to take an even longer lunch, she insulted me. "Summer, what did I do?"

She started to say something, then stopped herself. Then she said, "I'm fucking hungry and you see that I'm trying to be on a diet and stuff and you're eating all that shit in front of me! Could you be any more inconsiderate?"

God, she was mad about that? She suggested the place. "Summer, how many times am I going to tell you that you don't have to lose weight? Your body is practically perfect!"

"Practically? Only practically? You see why I need to lose weight? I don't want it to be 'practically perfect,' I need it to be perfect. Period."

"But nobody's body can be perfect. Sure, there are all these people who look like they might be perfect, but there might be like a scar or a bump or a little bit of loose skin or something that makes the person not so hot."

"So, what are you saying? That there's something about me that's not perfect?"

Fuck, what had I gotten myself into? Why didn't I just shut my mouth? I pushed my half eaten burger at her.

Furious, she narrowed her eyes and said, "What the fuck is this?"

"You said you're hungry."

"Oh my God, Cohen, I want to skin you with my bare hands! Every time I think –"

I interrupted her by leaning forward and kissing her. She didn't struggle or fight, instead, after stiffening a little, she kissed me back. Her kisses were soft and warm and just a little wet, and before I knew it, all the memories came flodding back Then she stopped, pulled away from me, looked into my eyes for what I thought was reassurance then grabbed my face and kissed me hard. Before I even had time to figure out what to do with my hands, she put her hand behind my head, clawed at my hair and kissed me some more. Then she put her hands on my chest and pushed me off.

"What the hell was that?" She growled.

"A kiss. I happen to know you're a little familiar with it." My mind was still at the weekends I spent at her dorm where neither of us felt the warmth of sunrays for two days.

"Funny," she said, still frowning. "Why the fuck did you kiss me?"

"To shut you up."

"Come again?" She leaned to the table and bent her arms so that her elbows rested on it then supported her head with her fists.

"You were getting all mad and about to go into a long rant so I did what I had to do."

"Let me get this straight: You wanted to shut me up, so you kissed me."

"It worked, didn't it?"

She stood up to leave but I pulled her hand and urged her to sit back down. She did and turned to me.

"Cohen, does this look like a romance novel?" She seemed more than a little confused. And pissed.

"What do you mean?"

"Do you think you're a romantic hero? Is your name Hunter or Slade or Rock or Stone or any other 'cute' unusual name?"

"Nope. But yours is," I pointed out.

"And what the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"I'm just saying that if we were going to do this whole, 'romantic hero' thing, your name is pretty damn perfect. Some people are named after rocks; you're named after a season."

"What's your point?"

"My point is, since your name is Summer, this..." I said, pointing my fore-finger up and moving it in circles.

"Well, not really Seth, your name is normal. You might as well be Tim or John or Bob. So no, you can't star in my romance novel. And since you can't, you can't just kiss me like that. What the hell? " she huffed.

Well, sure my name is Seth but she called me by my last name with was pretty damn unusual outside of the armed forces, but she didn't look like she was in the mood to be reminded of that little tidbit. Besides, there were other things I wanted to know. "So no Tim or John or Bob. What about Mark?"

"I must be having the most stupid conversation in the history of the world, which doesn't seem all that strange because I am having it with you. I think my top 100 strangest conversations have been with you."

"What about Mark?" I repeated.

She sighed. "What about Mark?"

"Does he star in your romance novel?"

"Mark with a 'k' or a 'c'?"

"I don't know how he spells it."

"Huh?" She turned to me in a swift movement and I saw the mix of anger and confusion give way to comprehension as the implications of my words registered. "You want to know if Mark and I are still together?"

I nodded. "I haven't seen him for a while...." My voice trailed off.

"After the stunt you pulled, you think I'm going to let him 10 miles of you? Do you think he wants to have to deal with you?"

Like I gave a damn about what he wanted -he could spend the rest of his life on the Rockies for all I cared. All I needed to know was how she felt about him. "So are you?"

"Well, I'm not going to tell you." She turned away from me and folded her arms.

"Why not?"

Still not looking at me she said, "If we aren't together, I don't want you to think what you did that day had any effect on us -'cos it didn't. And if we are still together, I don't want you think that I kissed you while I was dating someone else – yes, I am woman enough to admit to kissing you back, but don't even read anything into it because it was just a kiss."

Bullshit. "So what are you saying? That we are regressing to high school and you're going to start pretending and going to keep seeing this guy even though you know he isn't right for you?"

"No, Cohen, what I'm saying is that I have a client coming in about twenty minutes and I have better things to do than sitting here and talking to you about things that don't even matter."