Crushes.

They have an odd way of sneaking up on you. Just like a cold. One day, you're healthy and running around in the park only to wake up the next day on your deathbed. Okay, that's a bit of an overstatement, but it's exactly how it felt. 

A month ago, Ambrose's smile didn't make my heart beat a million miles per second. A month ago, I didn't get tongue-tied whenever we spoke to each other; I actually have to rehearsal what I was going to say or I'll fuck up. A month ago, I didn't have a jealous bone in my body, but now all I thought about was how fortunate Lana was for having someone like Ambrose cherishing her.

I hated crushes.

They were crushes for a reason because they're meant to hurt. This situation with Ambrose was utterly hopeless. How could I stand a chance over a girl he's been in love with for almost a decade? I'm starting to regret cutting my relationship with Wesley short; at least with him, I stood a chance.

It's funny. I never thought I would experience having a crush on someone again, and a sense of adrenaline shot through my veins whenever Ambrose stood inches away from me. Like how Ambrose was preparing dinner for us, something so simple, yet I spent all night wondering how today would go.

Gosh, it's like I'm fourteen again.

All day instead of practicing for an upcoming audition, I tried on my entire closet before settling on a black and white V-neck lace stitching pajama dress with slit creeping up my thighs. A black blazer and knee-high stockings completed the outfit. Gosh, I even had my blue highlights redone just for the purpose of looking pretty.

I'm losing my mind!

My phone vibrated against my chest and pulled it from my blazer. A stupid smile sneaked on my lips when it was a message from Ambrose to meet him in the studio in ten minutes. Nerves swerved right and left in my belly, but I quickly took a shot of vodka in hopes of solving this issue.

Spoiler alert... I think it made it worse.

I grabbed my gigantic gift bag and headed towards the studio. Apparently, Milo helped Ambrose decorate the studio for our special Valentine photos and spoiled the expensive gifts he purchased for us. But I wanted to give Ambrose something that had more essence because I desired to spoil him.

Someone like Ambrose deserved to be spoiled. Hopefully, he found enjoyment in the gifts. They might be kind of stupid, but I thought it was funny and every single present reminded me of him.

The toe of my high heel caught in a crack, and I almost sprawled face-first onto the door but caught the edge of a coral apron. My entire body felt a million degrees hotter when I glanced up to see Ambrose smirking down at me. How does he have the sexiest smile I've ever seen?

"Hey, D. You're two minutes earlier than what I expected. Are you really excited to spend some time with me?" Ambrose asked, his brown golden specks doing a thing to my heart.

Shit, he caught me.

I rolled my eyes and gained my footing. "Yeah, excited to eat an Ambrose specialty!"

"Great, I made a variety of snacks I mastered in high school so expect to have a food baby after dinner," Ambrose said, snapping his hand towel like it was a magic weapon.

He wore something so simple; a black and white, long-sleeve striped button-down shirt, making it impossible to overlook how huge his muscles were. His 'kiss me I'm hot' apron was both oddly cringy and cute. My cheeks turned flaming hot Cheeto red, and I was suddenly grateful for the dim lighting.

"Good, I haven't eaten anything all day," I responded, handing over my massive pink Valentine bag.

His black eyebrows knotted. "What's this? Another one of Milo's gifts? I thought he brought all of them here already."

The corners of my mouth quirked up into a smile. "Actually, I brought this... Sorry, I didn't tell you ahead of time. I didn't want you to feel forced to buy something for me."

Ambrose laughed, a hot husky one that made my heartbeat at the speed of one hundred miles per hour.

I subconsciously fanned myself. "What's so funny?"

"Actually, I brought you a gift, too. Though I didn't really expect another kind gesture from you," Ambrose said, his eyes lit with amusement.

My heart was in my throat. "I've been feeling extra nice lately."

It's totally not because I really really really like you...

Our hands slightly bumped against each other when I handed the gift over so he could place it on the table. A few months back, touching his finger only brought disgust from within me, but today, I felt a soft flutter of butterfly wings. When our hands touched, it's like our unpredictable personality molded into one color; blue and red make purple.

When I regain composure, Ambrose placed our meals on the decorated table. It's funny because I knew deep down Milo had done all of this. Milo illuminated the table with vanilla-scented pink heart-shaped candles and gorgeous crimson rose petals. Milo chose all my favorite wines with salmon-colored straps and a romantic photo of Ambrose and me

Even when I took into consideration all of that; my heart rate spiked triple and my hands began sweating.

"Why don't we start with the sushi rolls?" Ambrose asked, wiping the sweat coming from his forehead and sitting on the barstool.

I nodded. "Sounds perfect."

Ambrose pulled his phone from the apron pocket, unlocked it, and clicked on the camera icon. He swiped over to the video section and struggled to properly use chopsticks on the other. "Here I was trying to do a cute gesture for the fans and instead my sausage fingers can't grip these chopsticks."

I laughed at his stupidity. "Don't worry, bean sprout. I'll feed you for the video." As easy as sleeping, I grabbed a sushi roll using the chopsticks and expressed a signal for him to start recording.

In movies, people would always say how watching their crush smile made their entire day. I always thought it stupid. To let someone have so much power over you. I made that mistake with Colton and nevertheless, I ignored my own advice.

Because right here, right now, I felt at peace when deep laugh lines were etched into the grooves of his face and shined a radiant smile. A genuine one. The kinds he wore whenever Lana was around. Though I had to keep reminding myself, it's because we're shooting for the fans. It's because we had to make this relationship believable after our public meltdown a few weeks back.

Still, hope exploded in my chest.

"You should really try this," Ambrose said, grabbing the sushi roll with his bare fingers and angling it inches from my mouth.

The rice tasted perfect, but there was something about the roll that I couldn't wrap my head around. When it crunched against my teeth instantly bile rose my throat but I swallowed it and along with the sushi roll.

Cucumbers. I can't stand the taste of them.

His brown irises glimmered with anticipation. "What do you think?"

Being an actress, I learned a few things about how to respectfully lie to protect someone's feelings. I never cared enough but as my eyes darted around the room to see all the ingredients laying on the countertops and stocked dirty dishes in the sink; I couldn't hurt his feelings.

I smiled, bright. "They were great. Maybe some mayonnaise would make it better?"

He crammed one into his mouth. "These were Lana's favorite, I never understood why since they're so basic."

My eyes narrowed, and for a second, I regretted protecting his feelings. "Probably because the rest of yours sucks."

His smile dropped.

"I'm joking! Let's just move to the next one," I said, grabbing a sushi roll with raw salmon laying on top.

"That's Meadow's favorite," Ambrose stated, drizzling a row of soy sauce over all the rolls.

Damn it! It has cucumber in it, again.

"The flavors really pop out. If I was your judge, I would give you an A-," I rambled, snatching a sushi roll with pinkish tangy sauce on it. The essences of crab, carrots, and mayo remained on my tongue and completely won my heart. "This one is amazing!"

Ambrose's lips formed into a straight line.

My eyebrows furrowed. "What did I say something wrong?"

He shook his head and laughed. "That's Declan's favorite. The only reason I know that is because he isn't a fan of cucumbers, salmon, or avocado. Lana talked me into finding a roll that would match his complicated palette."

"Do I lose points since I picked his favorite?"

"No. Now, I can say it's your favorite and have another reason for making it that doesn't shatter my heart," Ambrose said, pouting like a five-year-old.

I rolled my eyes. "When did you start reciting poetry? That's so disgustingly cheesy!"

"How else do you think I win the girls over?" He laughed. "When good looks and charms fail you focus on making the girl laugh."

Suddenly, it felt as if my cheeks were pressed against a boiling stove. "Hate to break it to you... but sometimes that just ain't enough just look at Lana."

Instantly regret filled my chest when his features soured. "Whatever..."

"Sorry, that was a pretty bitchy thing to say," I said, guilt lingering in my voice.

Ambrose shrugged his shoulders, and walked over to the kitchen, filling the plates with plain bowtie pasta. With a distinguish displeased glance, he dropped the plate in front of me and went back to pour himself some. Instead of a normal pink and white sauce, bowtie pasta had a clear sauce with mixed grilled beef and peppers.

"Don't worry," he muttered. "Nothing I don't expect from you."

My chest tightened. I detested having crushes. Naturally, I'm a cruel bitch, and sometimes when I get jealous it sneaked out like a snake biting someone. It wasn't something I'm proud of but at least this would throw Ambrose off. I couldn't be in the same room with him if he thought I liked him more than a friend.

"Is this your specialty dish?" I asked, swirling the pasta around with my fork.

"Yeah, I cooked it for the first time when I was eight," Ambrose said, sauntering back to the barstool.

My eyebrows puckered up. "Eight must be the magic number."

He chuckled, lightly. "Yeah. It was the only ingredients in the house and my parents were away for a work conference. I was so hungry, so I threw everything together and it came out pretty damn good. I would secretly sneak the ingredients in so I could make it again."

A smile crawled on my face. "Just think, one day you could have your own restaurant and serve this as a Chef's specialty."

His eyes twinkled at me, filled with the flames from the candles. "I don't know about that..." Brush crept on his cheeks. "Sometimes, I don't think I'm cut out for this shit, but then I have days like this... When I get so excited to share my cooking with someone. It rekindles the passion within me."

The flavors from the beef exploded in my mouth. A slight tang of Italian dressing dawdled on my tongue, but it molded perfectly with the basil, parsley, and adobo seasoning. The pasta disintegrated in my mouth, the softness getting absorbed with the spices.

"I can't believe you made this at eight years old," I gasped, shoving another mouthful into my mouth.

"Says the girl who was champion chef at that age," Ambrose playfully retorted, the blush stained on his cheeks.

I waved my finger at him. "Hey, hey, hey! Number one rule, never compare your success with someone else's. We're all like chess pieces, moving at our own pace, and no matter how fast or slow we're that doesn't lower our victories."

Ambrose's eyes expanded. "And you said I was a poet?"

I shrugged at his ego-boosting comment. "While I'm a master at giving advice careerwise, you rule the emotional aspect which is just as important."

His brown irises scanned my empty plate. "Seems like you really enjoyed it. Do you want another plate?"

"See, I would..." I squinted, slightly. "But my dress is getting tighter by the minute and besides I'm dying for you to open my gifts."

Ambrose chuckled, poking at the final pieces of bowties in his bowl. "Now, I'm eager to know what you got me. So, I'm guessing you want me to open first?"

I nodded, excitedly. "Yes, if you value our friendship you will open my gift right this second!"

He put his hands up in defense. "Alright, alright. Captain Davina, I'll get right on it."

Ambrose collected our bowls, dropped them off in the overflowing sink, and grabbed the gift bag from the countertops. He gave me a lopsided grin that made me tingle all the way through my fingertips.

My heart walloped against my sternum as his fingers took out all the tissue paper. Ambrose first pulled out a sapphire handle nine-piece set of knives with platinum sharp edges.

His mouth fell open. "How much was this? You couldn't seriously buy me this and expect me to keep it."

"Oh, shush. I'm a millionaire. Using my money on someone important to me is better than it laying in the bank, so please accept this gift, or I might have to hurt you," I teased, sending him a wink.

He groaned, raking his fingers through his dark hair, "How are my gifts supposed to compare with this?"

My eyes narrowed. "Stop comparing! Like I said, I'm a millionaire. Expensive gifts don't work on me. I will gladly accept anything you give me."

My leg anxiously shook against my chair as I waited for him to pull out the next gift. With a closed colorful jar in his hand, confusion washed over his features. "What's this?"

My heart pounded against my ribcage. "Okay, it's a bit cheesy, but I wrote things I felt like you would need to hear. So one day, when life is just a little extra harder than usual, read one of those notes, and hopefully, they make it a tiny bit brighter."

A lopsided smile emerged on his face. "I might just need this on Thursday when I meet with my parents."

I short-circuited. "Huh? When did you decide this? Not like it's a bad thing, but I'm..." I licked my lips, wondering if the next word would cause an unwanted drift. "Worried about you. I don't want to see your father hurt you, again."

Ambrose scratched the nape of his neck. "After watching everything go down with your father, I could see more light in you. Like it gave you a sense of peace. I feel like I'll never feel peace until I give them a chance to explain everything."

An uneasy feeling settled in my stomach. "A chance to explain what? He beat you. What is there to explain?"

He sighed. "It's deeper than that D... They're still my parents, and for some fucked-up reason, I still love them. If they're able to change, I want them back in my life. If it makes you feel any better, we're meeting in a public restaurant and you can come. They're dying to meet you."

I guess he had a point... Abuse relationships weren't always black and white. We could speculate why an individual keeps going back to the people who harmed them, but unless we went through it, we would never understand. So, even though I was completely against the idea of giving his father another chance, I would be there to support him.

Because I'll be damned if I let Ambrose get hurt.

"Well, I can't say the same," I said, trying to ease the lava of anger peeking through the cracks.

He placed a hand on my knee and I hated how it brought my nerves alight in a serious discussion. "Don't worry, D. Everything will be fine. I'm not the scared little boy anymore, I can stand up for myself."

"O-okay," I breathed.

Instantly, when he removed his hand, my skin craved his touch, but I swallowed the feeling. Ambrose took out the last small gift of a wrapped square-shaped item with a gigantic bow on it. He ripped through the wrapping paper like an amused child on Christmas day and read the words written on it.

"Twenty-five songs that reminded me of you. Please don't listen until our PR contract ends." His eyebrows scrunched together at the second part.

It was impossible to accommodate the mixtape into twenty-five songs. I had over one hundred choices but these made the final cut. Most of the songs were party-type singles or laughable songs that would make anyone bust a move. But the last five tracks were love songs about how I felt... When our contract ended, and we were thousands of miles apart, I would feel in harmony to reveal my truths.

"Now, please listen to the last statement. If you love Lana with all your heart, you won't think about listening to this until a year from now," I pleaded, clutching my hands together.

Ambrose laughed. "Okay, I promise to not listen to your mixtape until our contract is over. By the way, I love your photo choice." He flipped the CD around to show a friendly picture of us. No kissing. No hand-holding. Just two friends, smiling.

That's how I wanted to be remembered when the inevitable happens.

Ambrose bent forward and dragged out his gift basket from under the white cloth. My face filled with heat as he dropped the present on my lap, and I was completely lost for words. Mainly, because my crush took time out of his day to purchase me something.

With a giddy sensation running through my gut, I ripped through the wrapping paper of one present. "Oh, my Jesus! What the heck is this!?" I giggled, seeing a stuffed lobster plushie grinning brightly, its eyes crinkling. 

Ambrose tapped its head. "I used this website to make it online. We were able to customize it so I made sure their eyes crinkled like yours does. I wanted this lobster to represent you gaining more confidence around lobster heads. Don't take it as me invalidating your feelings, I just want to help."

I squeezed the lobster to death. "I understand and I love it. Really I do, I think I'll name him Snuggles."

He flashed a pearly white grin. "Cute name."

I bowed in my chair. "Why, thank you!"

Ambrose extracted a small rectangular box from the bag and shook it in front of my face. "Open! Open! Open!"

His excitement spawned flutters in my chest, causing my fingers to tremble because of the overwhelming sensation. My eyes expanded when the wrapping paper fell off, and slowly I lifted the lid to see a white crescent moon necklace.

"I brought it for your birthday, but after our fight, I didn't have the courage to give it to you. Something about crescents always reminded me of you, don't get upper eye surgery like other celebrities," Ambrose stated, his hands playing with the knife set I purchased.

"Wouldn't dream of it." I bit my lip, admiring the way the silver chain illuminated under the candlelights.

"Go on." Ambrose clapped his hands. "Open the last gift."

My eyes furrowed when I glimpsed at the empty bag. "There's nothing left."

He blinked. "Oh, I forgot! It doesn't fit in the gift bag, it's behind you." Ambrose aimed past my shoulders, and my neck craned back to follow his direction. A massive rectangular shape wrapped present had a little sticker with my name on it and I couldn't imagine what it could be.

I sprang from my seat and ran over to the present, nearly tumbling over my two left feet from pure adrenaline rushing throughout my veins. The teddy bear embroidered paper fell down the present with a single tug and instantly my heart swelled with love. It was a full detailed painting, with oil paints, charcoal from the night of my birthday party.

He must've taken a photograph of me when I was distracted by the sea and made this masterpiece. It's incredible. Ambrose succeeded to get my freckles, and the way I was entranced by the ocean.

"This is amazing," I whispered, carefully bringing over to the stool.

Faint rosy color emerged on his cheeks. "Thank you... Since you liked my sketches so much, I figured maybe I should go all out and paint you. Though I don't really like how your eyes and lips came out. They both are missing something only a person could admire in real-time."

My heart warmed at Ambrose's words, never in my life had anyone ever spoken so highly of me. It isn't the same when fans tweeted behind their computers, they only knew the side of me I showed. But Ambrose knew me down to all my faults and I never even knew he thought of me in this way. Hearing this stirred a feeling in the pit of my stomach that felt very close to butterflies.

"I'm a bit embarrassed." He cleared his throat. "That's nothing compared to this knife set."

Shock washed over my features. "Are you kidding!?" I softly said, and his eyes softened, he gazed into my eyes, and as cheesy as it sounded I found myself lost in those golden specs. "This is the best gift anyone has ever gotten me."

His lips twitched at the corners and formed a small grin.

For the first time, my voice was stuck in my throat purely because I was nervous... My heart and breathing picked up a notch while I gazed into Ambrose's intense stare, he was looking so intently into my eyes that I felt naked and exposed. It was almost as if he was trying to read me, but instead of rejecting it, I let him in. I liked our proximity and for that moment, everything else disappeared.

It was just Ambrose, me, and the scenery. His actions were melting my ice heart, he was creeping through space I had closed off for so many years and it wasn't just his actions, but his words for the last couple of months.

Before I could talk myself out of this, I cupped a hand around his cheek and crushed our lips together. His lips were silky against mine like a pillow mushing under your head so perfectly, like comfort and peace. My body instantly came alive, hyperaware of every place Ambrose had power over.

But I pulled back before our kiss could bloom into something more.

Feeling like I was in hell that's how fucking humid it was.

My thoughts crashed into each other, and my heart skipped a beat, well more like thirty, but it's hammering wildly now, trying to thump back into its normal rhythm.

How the hell was I going to get out of this pickle?

"I-I-I gotta go..." I ran out of the studio, my heels clicking against the marble ground.

"Wait, Davina!"

Things might've just hit the fan but in a good way ;)!! Who thinks it's time for them to talk about their feelings? Or should they continue to avoid it?

Love you guys and can't wait to hear your thoughts!!!