Tommy got out of the cab. His first move was to pull the cap on his head further down his face, hoping to go unnoticed this morning. It was early. Barely eight. Chances were good. Nary a person out on the street. He'd even bailed on Jude; had left her slumbering in the hospital bed, opting to apologize later rather than wake her. If anyone was not a morning person, it was her. Not that the next activity held more appeal. Already, he saw her coming up the street. Steeling his resolve, he made the dozen steps toward the coffee shop and in front of it, they met.

"Anna."

She looked up, putting her phone away. "Tommy. Hey. Did something bad happen? It's early. I texted you last night. You never got back to me." She rubbed her hands together against the crisp morning air as she leaned in for a kiss.

He dodged it. And failed her test if it had been one. Averting his face, he nodded toward the almost empty coffee shop. "It's important we talk."

"In there?" The smile she offered didn't reach her eyes. "Public places. Perfect to dump a person, right."

Was she joking, or testing the waters? Had she an idea what he was about to say or did she jest because the air between them was as loaded with foreboding as air could be? At least he experienced it that way. "That's not…" He stopped. There was no longer a point in lying. "Can we go inside?"

"Sure." She went ahead, muttering to herself, "Let's get it over with."

There was a resignation in her voice he didn't like. He'd put it there. "This isn't about getting anything over with." Inside, he guided her to an empty booth. She had a seat. "I want to explain it. I want you to understand that I didn't use you. It wasn't like that."

"Did I say that it was?"

If only he could tell how she felt. Not being able to read her made it hard for him to anticipate her reaction. Should he brace for impact or just dump every twisted detail of his complicated past with Jude on her? "I suppose you know why I wanted to meet. The last weeks…stuff happened. Jude and I— Look, I didn't plan on this. When we met, I had every intention of forgetting her. I do like you."

"But you like her more?" She spoke with a sharper tone. The waiter arrived and took their orders. "Coffee, black, to go," she ordered curtly, then faced back, shrugging with little interest in his explanations. "Go and be with her if that's what you want. I won't ask you to stay."

Good, he wanted to say but held his tongue.

"She's seventeen."

The way in which she intonated Jude's age had him square his shoulders.

"I didn't know you two had that sort of history when I met you. I'm not sure how I feel about it, to be honest." The coffee arrived and she got up. "I guess a small part of me wants to dump you simply because of that. She's a kid. You know that, right?" Her eyes pinched into tiny needle pricks as she shot demand after demand. "Tell me you know that. Tell me you understand that she's barely seventeen years old. Tell me you want to be with a girl, not yet a woman, who goes to high school!"

Yes, she was young. Nobody knew that better than he did. But it wasn't like that. He hadn't coerced her. To say that wouldn't be fair. He'd been the one reminding Jude of the age difference. He'd been the one trying to stay at a distance. He'd been the one who…gave in. Fuck! Yes, he knew she was a kid! God damnit, of course he knew. He hadn't chosen to fall for her! The guilty part of him scrambled for excuses as the remains of his morality hid in the shadows, playing dead."She's older—"

"Than her age?" scoffed Anna. "She's wise beyond her years? Save it for your own conscience. She's seventeen. Not only that, but you also slept with her sister! God, Tommy. What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"You knew about me and Sadie!"

"I didn't know about you and Jude. And by the way, you did use me. Thanks for the coffee. Have a nice life."

"Yeah. Thanks," he called after her, sarcastically.

She was having it out with the steps in the back alley behind G-Major and thus far the crutches that had been forced on her were the equivalent of an empty tank rendering a well-functioning car moot. For thirty minutes she'd argued with the doctor, pleading not to be given the sticks. "I can jump on one foot," she'd claimed – a little lie – "and it doesn't even hurt anymore!" A big lie.

It hurt a lot. Every single step. Using the crutches properly would alleviate the pain, no doubt, but it wasn't as though they came with a manual. Walking with them was hard. Taking steps was harder. And maneuvering a busy entrance was downright impossible. Hence the decision to enter through the back door.

"Jude? What are you doing here?"

She paused at once. "Tommy!" He'd resurfaced. When she'd woken up this morning, he'd been gone. Only his jacket had remained wrapped around her shoulders. Careful not to fall, she hobbled around. "Where were you? I called you."

"Phone off. Had to do something."

Oh, the details! "Ah. Is it done?"

"Yep."

Could he be anymore vague? How to ask about it without appearing nosy? That was the question! She bit her tongue. He could be so unreadable at times! And the way he kept looking at her? With that tiny smirk crouching in the corners of his eyes. He was making fun of her. She'd bet he was. As though he didn't know what she wanted to ask. Taking a closer look at him, Jude started to doubt. Was it a smirk she saw? Or was it something else? On second inspection, it seemed darker. Anger, maybe? About what, though?

What about Anna? Was that it? Had they ended it? Had there been a fight?

Are you still with her?

Did anything change between us?

He'd spent the night with her. Sure, fine, yes, it had been platonic slumbering in a hospital bed, with layers of fabric between them, but the fact remained! They'd slept together, arm in arm, in one bed.

"What are you doing here?" He took off his sunglasses and slipped them into his jacket's pocket. A different jacket. He'd dropped by his place, apparently. And his tone was decidedly not amused.

She sprung into feisty-mode. "What does it look like I'm doing? Learning to walk on crutches."

He cocked his head, his words few. "You're sick. Go home."

"I'm not sick, I'm partially incapacitated. There's a difference. My hands still function, my voice still works. I can report for duty in studio B with Kwest." Who was he to tell her to go home?

Behind her, the heavy metal door swung open. She barely escaped death at its hand. "Watch it, dude!"

"Dude?" Big D appeared, brows arched high. "Go with Mr. Mills, for a change. Respect has been neglected, I'll say. At any rate, why are you out here calling me dude when you ought to be doing your job with your producer?"

Hellooo? She wriggled a crutch. "I'm injured! I nearly died last night! Tommy suggested I go home and get some rest."

"Did he?" From her, D turned toward Tommy. "And why would Tommy say such a thing? He's neither your producer nor your immediate superior, last I checked. Or are we making any claims on power, Tommy?"

Tommy, rolling his eyes, took two steps at once and slipped past Jude and Darius. "Leave me out of it."

"Slow down, T. I came here to talk to you. Music Toronto wants to write an article about your return to the big stages. I offered them a preview of your new song."

"My what?!"

"His what?" joined in Jude.

"Song," spoke Darius, lacking patience. "The thing that goes on for about two to three minutes. Notes, lyrics…you know what a song is. And in twenty-four hours, you better have one I can proudly present to one of Canadas most revered music publications. Get to work," he warned him sternly. "Now."

"Use one of the unfinished ones," Tommy brushed him off. "I don't have time to work on new material. My schedule's packed."

"You have songs?" Jude stared at him, stunned.

Tommy scowled. "And?"

Another thing she didn't know of. It was annoying how much she discovered by accident day in and day out. Since the day she had left his everyday life, she was lost in his presence. Sure, with last night, the first major step towards a renewal of friendship was made. They were talking again – a huge success! – but, other than that, she was still outside his doors, waiting to be asked back in. "Can I hear 'em?"

Darius cast her a look that said, 'shut up'. "Right after he hands me a new one." He warned Tommy. "The songs you have are good, but you can't afford good. It's the first one people will hear from you in years. If they don't like it, they will hardly listen to your next one. Get me a hit. You have until noon, tomorrow. And you, Jude, stop distracting my lead artist!"

"What?!" This conversation was a veritable X-File. "I am the one with the charting hits! I just went platinum! He hasn't even published yet! If anyone's the lead artist, it's me!"

Tommy chuckled. Cocky bastard that he was, he tried to sail by on his old successes. "Five platinum records, a few golden ones, and two Grammy nominations surely say a lot about my chances to hit number one again. But hey, congrats on the charting hits."

"Lead artist my ass," Jude mumbled and pulled herself toward the banister, clinging to it for support. Ouch! Damn ankle. If he was going to be all smug about being the returning superstar, she'd show him what he was up against. Or rather whom!

Last night, she'd worked on a pretty promising new song…

Portia took a seat next to Jude in the kitchenette. "There's a rumor going around. You and Tommy hung out last night. Somebody saw you leaving the studio together. People started a pool on how long it's going to take for Tommy and you to hit it off. Any hints? A week? A day? An hour?" She wiggled her brows.

Jude lowered hers. "An hour?" If only! "As far as I know, he's still dating Miss Perfect."

Portia leaned in, intrigued. "Oh, tell me! I've barely met her. She's the enemy?"

"I wish!" Jude's head dropped into her hands. "She's perfect. Literally! Nice, sexy, and legal. She plays guitar and piano!" The latter better than she did, which she would never publicly admit to anyone. "And she never loses her temper. I went too far the other day, I really did!" She'd gone and made a fool of herself when she'd visited Anna at her bar. "But she didn't bite. She's pretty much me in five years. After I learn how to dress right and wear makeup."

"What's the plan, then?"

"What plan?" Jude sighed heavily. "I'm lost in space, Portia! He won't even tell me whether they're still dating. How am I supposed to know if he likes me? In case you forgot, Tommy keeps his feelings to himself!"

"Kwest, maybe?"

Jude grumbled. "He's Tommy's best friend, and last year he made it clear that – had he to pick – he'd choose Tommy over me. I get that. I'd choose Tommy over him, too! The point is, I don't feel like making Tommy a topic between him and me again. And, before you ask, Sadie is currently in no mood to talk to me. I might have made some mean remarks about gambling addiction. Never mind, I'm all on my own here. It's just so frustrating not knowing where I stand!"

"So take charge and ask Tommy."

"If he wanted me to know, he'd have told me."

"Shall I ask him?"

"Better not." She blew out a suffering breath. "I'm doomed."

"Please, please, please, please, please!" Jude was begging and it wasn't something she enjoyed doing. "Tell meeeeee! You said we were friends!"

Chaz's flat hand hit the wall as he glowered at her. "I'm trying to do something here."

"And?" She spun away from him, staring at the ceiling. This was what the men's room ceiling looked like. White. Same as the ladies' room ceiling. She wasn't sure why she'd expected something else, but she was disappointed. "Go pee if you must. I'm not leaving. Nor looking," she added. "But do it quietly. Don't hit the tiles, hit the urinal. It's hard to miss."

When she heard the zipper being pulled up, she turned back around. "You didn't pee."

"No, Sherlock. I didn't. Get out of here!"

"Not before you tell me whether Tommy is single or not!" She crossed her arms, standing her ground. "Well?"

He muttered a curse under his breath, then hissed straight at her. "I don't fucking know! I just arrived! I had four espressos this morning, and a giant mocha latte. I had one hour of sleep last night, I'm cranky, tired, hungry, and I need to piss! Get lost!"

"Would it kill you to ask Tommy if he's single, though?"

The door opened. Chaz grabbed her shoulder, making her face that way. "You tell me. I'll check your vitals later." With that he marched out away. "I'll use the ladies' room."

"Coward," she called after him. Jude shifted her weight on onto her healthy foot, alternating between ball and heel. The other foot she'd bent up, and the leg attached to it grew heavier by the second. She needed to sit down. She would have plopped down to the floor were it not for the fact this was the men's room with six urinals lining up behind her. She'd rather lose the leg than touch the floor in front of them.

Tommy, with arms crossed, leaned in the doorway, a brow quirked to indicate he'd like to know what was going on. "I didn't expect you to be here…"

"Why?" She met his eyes squarely. "Because I'm a girl?"

"Yes."

"I don't like it when a sign tells me I'm not welcome."

"Always taking the complicated approach." He walked up to her, and then placed himself in front of a urinal. "Chaz might have performance issues. I don't." His hands went to the snap of his jeans, undoing the belt and the first button. "Do you really care to watch?"

Jude felt her ears burning up. Not because he caught her staring, but because she did want to watch. That even shocked her. Not that she had a special interest in seeing other people pee – just thinking about it weirded her out – but she did like the idea of seeing Little Tommy Q again. Her cheeks filled with heat. She licked her lips which had dried up all of sudden.

Tommy growled low in his throat. Hands retreated from his pants. "Jude! What are you doing in here?"

"Huh? Oh! Um…there was this thing I wanted to ask Chaz, but then he made a turn into this room, and I sort of followed him without paying attention. Chaz being Chaz, he tried to shock me same way you did, but you know me. I can't be bluffed. That in return shocked him, and so I sort blew his…shock." She blushed crimson, realizing what she had just said. "Poor choice of words. I didn't literally blow anything, of course! Especially not with Chaz! I mean – never mind, he told me about some mocha latte, and about how cranky he was – which by then I had already figured out on my own and—"

"Jude!"

"Are you single, or not?" She blurted out. The face he made, a mixture of bewilderment and amusement, distracted her in the worst way. Since the other leg grew too heavy, she used her inured foot for support, and the second she shifted her weight there, the pain of a thousand knifes tore through her foot. "Ahhh!"

"Alright, enough of this!" He reacted quickly, scooting her up in his arms.

Jude beamed, forgetting about the pain. When he carried her through the hall of G-Major, into his office, she felt like a Disney princess. "My savior in shiny leather!"

Her savior had none of it. "Quit it. You're one of the laziest people I know. The doc tells you to keep that foot up and cooled, and now you're suddenly everywhere but on a couch? What's wrong with that?" Taking a cold can of soda from the mini fridge he had in his office, he placed it on Jude's ankle with little compassion. "It's swollen badly. Rest it!"

"I tried to rest," Jude muttered, indignant. It wasn't her fault she had to hunt people down! "Nobody wants to come to me today, so I'm forced to find people. At home, I'm bored. In studio B, Kwest is busy sucking Sadie's lips – it's not a pretty image! Portia tried to pimp me out like a hooker when I reclined in her comfy vanity chair, Chaz fled and he's a good sprinter let me tell you! You are always disappearing. When I'm sick, and I count a twisted ankle as being sick – I like to be the center of attention. I'm saying this in a completely modest way, but I am an important person, and it wouldn't kill you people to entertain me occasionally."

He'd started laughing when she said 'modest'. "You got me now. What do you want?"

"You better not mock me, Tom Quincy!" She adjusted on his couch, searching for a more comfortable position. It was the leather that made it tough. It stuck to her elbows and hands, something it had never done before. Wait a minute! "This is a new couch!"

"Came with the contract. Darius knew I was signing for a reason that didn't involve his great managing skills, and so he wanted to make sure I didn't write crap out of spite."

If she started writing crap, she'd get fired. He didn't write at all and got a couch? Something was seriously wrong with that! "This sucks! You want to do me a favor, tell me the truth!"

Tommy blinked. "About the couch? Didn't I just do that?"

"About Anna," she told him, taking over the cold can and pressing it against her ankle. "Are you single?"

"Does your ankle still hurt?"

"Anna," drawled Jude. "Not ankle."

He grabbed a cushion and put it underneath. "Sit here and rest. I'll be right there," he said, pointing at the desk, "and work on some of the accounting stuff I put off for far too long. If you need anything, tell me, okay?"

"I'd like an answer."

He didn't give her one. Instead, he reached for his iPod and handed it to her. "How 'bout some music?"

"You spent the entire afternoon with him and didn't ask him about Anna?" Portia gaped.

"I did ask!" Jude scooted further up the couch, still in Tommy's office. Meanwhile, he had begun recording the song Darius wanted him to finish. He hadn't wanted her in the studio. At least, he hadn't asked her to accompany him. She hadn't followed him, either. "I asked him earlier, and he didn't answer. Maybe he's trying to tell me it's not my business?"

"Since when do you give up so easily?"

"You've asked me that before. There's a time to admit defeat. He bailed on me this morning in the hospital. He avoids telling me about his personal life. He moved on, and I'm starting to fear I've lost my place in his life. Being friendly to one another is one thing, being friends another. Right now, I don't know what Tommy and I even are."

Sadie had spent the better part of the day apologizing to everyone for gambling away the tuition money and for needing Jude to pick up her bill. Darius had somehow gotten wind of her need for a job and promptly offered her a part-time gig as a receptionist. After that, she had decided to stay the night with Kwest, giving Jude a chance to find some rest at home with her dad.

Tommy had agreed to take her home. A few minutes away from the Harrison house, he paused at a red light and looked over. "I thought you were tired, but I'm starting to think you're mad at me for some reason." Was it his lack of answers? He wouldn't fault her for it. But telling her he was single wouldn't change anything. They were still the people they were this morning. Friends, but nor really friends.

Jude sat next to him in silence, occasionally giving a small grunt of pain whenever she tried out her ankle which, obviously, hadn't yet stopped hurting. The first two times had been amusing. Cute, even. The last three times had been annoying. Like the damn thing would heal within minutes!

"Jude?" Rolling his eyes, he stared out into the night, and because he had nothing else to do, he took in the quiet night and the few passing cars.

The streetlight turned green. Four blocks away from her house, Jude at last started to talk. And leave it to her to throw down a gauntlet. "I saw you earlier. You were holding Sadie's hand."

A long, annoyed, exasperated groan slipped from his mouth. "Are we really back to that?!"

"Back to what," Jude asked, her voice jumping up the attitude level. "I merely pointed out what I saw!"

"Right. You saw me and your sister holding hands and immediately assumed the worst."

"What worst? I only told you I saw you two!"

"Holding hands," he added with a sneer.

"Which," she snapped, "you two were!"

"Nothing happened!"

"Except for your hand that held hers."

"Which meant nothing!"

"So Kwest knows? If you're sleeping with his girlfrie— Tommy!"

He slammed on the brakes and brought the car to an abrupt halt at the side of an empty street. The nearest streetlamp was at least twenty feet away. "If your ankle wasn't twisted," he seethed, "you'd be walking home from here!"

"You would kick me out? For what?"

"Being an idiot." He was blunt and not hiding his anger. It was late, he was exhausted, he had a headache from all the thoughts he'd wasted on Jude and a maybe-rekindling of their sort-of-relationship from once. Whether it was even possible. Whether she wanted it. Whether he wanted it. But instead of going straight home and getting some rest, he'd taken the time to take her home first.

Jude, however, had nothing better to do than to start a fight over something so insanely ridiculous, hadn't it come to worst possible timing, he'd have laughed about it. "You're unbelievable! We stopped talking over the same hideous accusation months ago. You really want to go there again?"

"It wasn't an accusation!" Jude crossed her arms, her face turning stoic. "I saw what I saw. I just connected the dots! I mean, it took me a whole day to finally find out, but you did break up with Anna. Obviously not so you could be with me, not that I would have been interested in it!" She scoffed in disgust to underline that last statement. "And then I see you feeling up my sister! What am I supposed to think, huh?"

His jaw dropped. "Feeling up your sister?" He pondered how much trouble he'd get into with Stuart if he indeed kicked Jude out. She sure as hell deserved to walk!

"I know the difference between holding hands and holding hands. And you were definitely holding her hand!"

"Are you even listening to yourself?"

"Cheater!"

His eyes went small and cold, his nostrils flared, and his jaw tightened. "You're walking on very thin ice right now. If I were you, I'd leave this car on my own before I make you!"

"You can't kick me out," she protested in shock, "I'm injured. I might die if I walk all the way home from here!"

"A twisted ankle, Jude. Not a punctured lung! Although, your brain must have suffered major damage!"

"Watch it! I'm not the one sleeping with my best friend's girlfriend."

"You don't have a best friend!"

Though Jude never gave up easily, she did know when she had lost a fight. And this one, it was a big loss. "Apparently so." Unbuckling, she angrily kicked the door open with her functioning leg, struggled out of the car, and managed three steps before pausing and wincing from pain.

Tommy was overcome by instant remorse. "Jude, wait!"

She ignored him, hobbling further down the road, eyes filling with tears. He could see the light from the streetlamp reflecting in her damp blues.

"Jude!" Tommy blocked her way.

"I'm not in the mood for your games. You made your point, Tom. Now leave me. Isn't that what you want, anyway?"

Tom. Shit was serious when she used that name. Biting back his own feelings over her accusations, he lowered his head and apologized. Again. "I'm sorry for what I said. I know you had a rough year. I shouldn't have mentioned it."

"It's true," admitted Jude bitterly. "Jamie hates me for not loving him and telling him so. You hate me for loving you and not telling you so." She looked away and wiped the tears from her eyes. "I lied. I know you'd never touch Sadie. I was just angry you made such a big, effing deal about not telling me of you and Anna. So, now that we've cleared that up, can you please return to your car and leave me be? There are a couple of miles I have to walk and given my critical medical condition, there's a chance I will pass out during the attempt. I have to mentally prepare for that."

He started laughing.

In the middle of the empty street, late that night, with Jude staring back at him as though he'd just swallowed an entire Volkswagen, he clutched his stomach, bent over, and wheezed until his eyes turned wet. "Oh, Jude…" There was such pride in her eyes as she'd delivered her monologue. She'd never surrender to anyone, he was sure. Even if her condition were critical, death would have a hell of a fight ahead of him.

"I really don't get why you're laughing!"

When she moved to cross her arms, he reached out and grabbed her hand, entwining their fingers. "Come on." The chuckles subsided one by one. "Let's head back to the car. I'll drive you home."

"And risk more fighting?" She eyed him skeptically, then glanced at her foot. "No, thanks. I'll survive." Defiant, she pulled her hand free.

"Fine." Tommy acted quickly and scooped her up into his arms a second time that day. "I'll have to be your savior again, I guess. Wouldn't want you to pass out, right?"

This time, she squirmed and wriggled. "It's at least two miles!"

"Afraid I can't carry you that far?"

"I know you can't carry me that far!"

"You're ninety pounds soaking wet, Harrison. I can handle."

"On a good day and with an empty stomach." She clutched her arms around his shoulders, though he guessed the reason wasn't affection or a longing for contact. More out of a need for security. "I ate a whole bag of cheese balls earlier, two Pop Tarts, the piece of cake that Jenna got me from the bakery after shed a fake tear over my pain – though I only did it because she was getting on my nerves with her story about her broken toe! There was sort of a fried chicken that somebody forgot in the fridge and…well…let's just say it's no longer there. I dra— Tommy!"

He was back to laughing. His legs began to wobble. Damn her!

"Tommy, put me down. A broken ass is the last thing I need!"

As carefully as possible, he set her back down. A cluster of curls had fallen into her face and he brushed them away with a finger, tucking them behind her ear.

She blushed at once. "What now? You're counting my freckles to have another reason not to like me?"

"If it were that easy…"

"Tommy," begged Jude, "it's late and—"

"I love you."