He was the most gorgeously hot guy I had ever seen in my life with his brown hair coming down past his ears and his grey eyes piercing deep into me.

"Well hey there neighbor!" My eyes tore away from him and looked toward the woman who had addressed me. "I'm Cheryl Parker, this is my husband, Mark" She pointed to the man next to her who had brown hair and brown eyes. He looked around his early forties.

"Hello." He said with a tilt of his head. "Thank you for having us over. I know how tired you must be from your flight."

"Oh I'm fine, really." I lied trying to look good in front of my mom's guests.

"Well that's good." Cheryl continued. "This here is my son, Damien."

He had been staring everywhere for sometime now; the door, the wall, the pie in his mom's hands. Wait hold on. Pie? Yummy! Ugh. Stop it, Emma. No distractions.

"Hi." He mumbled. At least he acknowledged I was there by looking at me...

"Hey." I managed to muster up something to say to him and then turned back to Cheryl. "My mom's in the kitchen if you guys want to come in."

Cheryl said yes and I led the family inside to the living room. "Oh well this is a very nice house ya'll got here!" I had didn’t noticed it before but Cheryl had a very slight southern accent when she spoke.

"Thanks!" I motioned for them to sit down on one of our two couches. "I'll, um, go get my mom."

"That would be great." Mark said.

I walked through the dining room and into the kitchen to see my mom with a chicken that I had helped make. "Okay, mom. I'll take it from here, you go visit with your friends."

"Thank you, hunny!" She walked into the living room and I could here her greeting the guests.

I tore off pieces of meat off the bird and put in on a large plate before setting the dining room table. I got the mashed potatoes and corn and set those on the table along with glasses full of water.

Walking back into the living room, I said "You guys ready to eat?" They all got up and walked into the dining room to take their seats.

"This smells great!" Mark took his place after pulling out a chair next to him for his wife.

"Oh yes!" Cheryl agreed. "Don't you think, Damien?"

Damien looked up from his plate that he was studying and muttered "Yup. This looks just peachy." *Note sarcasm*

"Oh I forgot to get the napkins." My mom hit her forehead with her hand. "Emms, could you go get those?"

“Emma, mom. Please? Just Emma." I turned to go into the kitchen, grabbed the napkins and went back into the dining room. The only place I could sit was either at the end of the table next to no one or across from Damien and next to my mother.

I sighed, placed the napkins on the table, and sat.

"So, Emma. What do you like to do extra-curricular wise?" Cheryl asked. She was a little bit too friendly for my taste but whatever.

"Um, I draw." Everyone else had food on their plates so I served myself as I spoke.

"Oh really?" Mark looked over at his son. "That's pretty cool. Right, Damien?"

"Yeah, I’m amazed. Tell me more!" The sarcasm in his voice made me want to reach across that table and slap him across his gorgeous-

Stop it, Emma. Just stop right there.

"So, Damien, what kind of things do you like to do?" My mom asked trying to break the tension in the air.

"I do football, track, and…" His eyes dropped when he said this.

"And..." My mom was really into the conversation now.

"And girls." Mark said it for Damien.

I laughed aloud. So he was a player. Nice. *hint major use of sarcasm* "Sorry."

"I, um, don't really have a girlfriend right now so I have a lot more time to focus on what's the most important; sports." He said matter-a-factly.

"Oh, you don't have a girlfriend..." My mom repeated. I saw where she was going with this even before she had said anything and tried desperately to stop her. "Well," she continued picking at her chicken. "Emma doesn't have a boyfriend."

I kicked her from under the table making her squeal. I just stared at my food like nothing had happened. "I, uh... Emma...?" My mom mumbled.

"Hm?" I asked nonchalantly.

"Would you go get the soda from the fridge? Oh and the pie, please?"

"Sure." I got up and started off for the kitchen.

"I'll help her." Damien got up out of his chair and followed me.

Once we were in the kitchen I said, "You know I really don't need your help." I went and got the seven-up and pie out of the fridge.

"I know." Damien smiled a very sly smile was plastered on his face.

"Okay then…" I was acting really annoyed but was actually glad that he had decided to come with me.

"So ..." He moved to the counter next to the fridge and leaned back against it.

I reached in and got the pie and soda from the fridge. “So…”

“So, you don’t have a boyfriend.” He said more of a statement than a question.

“Nope.” Where’s he going with this?
“And I don’t have a girlfriend.” He moved closer to me so that we were about a foot and a half apart.

“Um…” Crap. Please no. Please, God, no.

“So I guess…” Step closer. “That means I can do…” Step closer. Now we’re inches away. “This.”

He put his hand up on my cheek and caressed it for a second before pulling it gently closer. Closer. Closer. Till our lips were centimeters apart.