* Sigh *

He walked in, posing in his hot leather jacket, hair gelled and spiked slightly forward toward the sky.

Wahlberg 2.0.

My heart pounded hard inside of me as he approached the counter. Each step he took was so effortless, and confident. Meanwhile, I shuffled behind a counter in an ugly uniform, hair a mess under the black cap I was wearing no doubt.

He glared down through the glass section of counter at the instant lottery tickets. He had purchased two packs of cigarettes...Marlboro Lights (his) and Jack Menthol 100's (his man). I saw the extra dollar in his sexy hands. I so badly wanted to grab those hands.

"We have a new one dollar ticket." I said, desperately trying to evoke his sexy voice.

"You do? What is it?"

"Go ahead and give it to me." he said.

And underneath it all, boy would I have ever gave it to him right then and there.

It's hard to explain in text (and i'm more than likely dreaming), but the manner and tone in which that was said was almost as if it was intended to stir my mind up a bit. It's complex...but I think he knows who I am from a gay dating site we both belong to. The site definitely alerted him that he was on my hot list...and perhaps he recognized me?

I had to wonder if this was the beginning of a game.

It's a shame when you know something so absolutely irrisistable is so bad for you. The story of our lives I suppose.