Ok, I need to stop. Think about something gross.

Paris Hilton’s sex tape! Ok, good start. Keep thinking.

Sex. With Ashley.

Shit.

Luckily, I’m taken from my thoughts by Ashley’s eyes fluttering open; her brown eyes meeting my blue ones.

Her brow furrows into a questioning look.

“Spence, are you okay? You’re breathing kinda heavy and your face is flushed. Do you feel sick?”

Dammit. She caught me.

“No, I’m fine. Just thinking.”

“Must be some pretty intense thoughts.”

“You could say that.”

She smiles that smile of hers.

“So you’re still coming tonight, right?”

“Of course, baby. Morgan’s coming, too. She met some guy at the bar and got his number, so she’s bringing him along. We’re even closing the bar down so both of us can go.”

“Aww, now I feel special. And kinda bad…you’re not going to lose too much business, are you?”

“Oh, no. We’re fine. Business has been good lately, so we can afford to close for one night. But I’m only coming if you play that song you wrote for me.”

She smirks at me. “Of course I’ll play it. I plan on playing that song at every show I do from now on.”

Now I’m smiling. What can I say? She does that to me.

“Hey, what time is it?” she asks.

I look over her shoulder at the alarm clock to see that it’s after one.

“Wow, babe. We must have worn each other out last night. It’s already almost one-thirty.”

“Well, if that’s what wearing out feels like, I think we should wear out more often.”

We start giggling insanely, which turns into a tickle fight, which turns into a make out session. When I realize that her hand is slowly making its way down my body, I decide that if we don’t stop now, we probably won’t make it out of her apartment all day.

Not that I’d mind it, but I do have some work to get done before heading to the Rainbow House tonight.