"And here is my half of Seduction and Snacks," Claire stated proudly as we left Liz’s storage room and entered her kitchen. With her hand still in mine, she led me through the kitchen to the front of the store, pointing things out to me. Where Liz’s store was all dark colors and rich fabrics, Claire's side was light and airy and full of bright colors. In the front of the store, she had three light yellow walls and one light pink wall. Behind the counter there was just enough wall hanging down from the ceiling to hold three large chalkboards, filled with all the store had to offer along with prices. Below the chalkboards, the wall ended and you could see straight into the kitchen. All around the room were framed pictures of cupcakes, candies and different sayings that had to do with her business. A pink and brown wooden sign on one wall stated “Money can’t buy happiness but it can buy chocolate, which is kind of the same thing.” and a yellow and brown one by the door read “A balanced diet is a cookie in each hand.” Aside from the warm, inviting atmosphere, the smell alone would put you in a good mood. For once, the smell of chocolate didn't bother me like it usually did. Maybe, because Claire was standing right next to me, and all I could think about was tasting her instead of the memories that scent usually brought me. I moved a step towards her and took the fact that she didn't move away or let go of my hand as a good sign.

“Seduction and Snacks is a great name. It’s probably more appropriate than Blow Jobs and Baked Goods.”

She laughed nervously, but still didn’t move away from my close proximity. This near to her, I could see that her eyes weren’t just liquid brown. They also had tiny specs of gold in them that made it look like someone had sprinkled a handful of glitter in them.

"The place looks great," I told her, taking another step in her direction, wanting to be as close to her as possible. I reached down by her side and slid my free hand into hers, the fingers of both of our hands intertwining. She swallowed and licked her lips nervously but didn't move.

"Thanks," she mumbled, her eyes staring straight at my lips.

Fuck, did she want me to kiss her? Should I do it? Just lean in and press my lips to hers? Why do I feel like a twelve year old that has no experience? Why can’t I stop asking myself these annoying questions?

I took one last step, closing the distance between us. I let go of her hands so I could slide mine behind her and rest them on her lower back, pulling her flush against me in the process. Her hands flew up to my chest but she didn't push me away. She rested them there and finally looked up into my eyes.

"It smells good in here. What did you make?" I asked quietly, leaning my head down closer to her lips, thankful that she was finally in my arms and amazed at how right she felt there.

"N-nothing," she stammered. "I was just making a list of all the supplies I need to order and stocking the flour on the shelves."

I stopped with my lips hovering directly over hers. I could feel her breath on me, and I had to count to ten to stop myself from pushing her back against the door and pushing myself between her legs.

"It smells like chocolate in here," I whispered, ghosting my lips back and forth across hers.

I had absolutely no self-control being this close to her. Two weeks of only hearing her voice was like the most torturous foreplay in the world. I kissed the corner of her mouth, her cheek and right below her ear, taking in a deep breath of her skin. All of the blood rushed to my head and my arms tightened around her small waist.

Whoa, what the fuck?

I could feel her heart thumping in her chest which was pressed against my own, but that wasn’t what made the room suddenly seem tipsy.

This can't be right. Why in the hell is my subconscious playing tricks on me right now? I kissed the spot below her ear again just to make sure I wasn’t losing my mind and felt her shudder in my arms. I took another deep breath of her skin, nuzzling my nose into the soft pieces of hair that rested against the side of her neck.

Jesus Christ, I have officially gone off the deep end. How is it possible that she smells like this? I stood there and just breathed her in. Five years of searching for this and it was right here in my arms. And now I was going to look like a total assy pervert because it was killing me. I need to know what that smell is. It had to be some kind of lotion or some shit and in some crazy, twisted act of fate, Claire used the same product. Once that mystery is solved, I can finally, once and for all, let go of this nonsense.

"It's probably just me. I always smell like chocolate," she whispered, her arms sliding up to my shoulders and around my neck, her fingers gently sliding through the hair at the nape. Something about the feel of her fingers sliding against the back of my head felt so familiar that it was my turn to shiver.

Did you just quote 'Heathers'? That is my favorite movie ever.

I kind of have a thing for quirky, crazy, intelligent, dark-haired chicks.

I forgot how to breathe for a minute as bits and pieces of the past tried to make their way to the forefront of my mind. She felt so good in my arms; like she belonged there or maybe she'd been there before….

No, don't be a dick. Claire is sweet and beautiful and a nice girl. Don't confuse her with a memory, especially not now.

“Well, f**k me gently with a chainsaw.”

“Ask me what my favorite movie is.”

The past, present and stupid dreams were all flying around in my brain trying to fight for first place. Suddenly I had a memory of falling down on top of her on a strange bed. Her body was soft in all the right places and her skin was smooth and I couldn't get enough of touching her. She made the most amazing noises when I licked the skin of her neck right below her ear. I remembered pushing into her and squeezing my eyes shut because she was so f**king tight and hot, and I didn't want it to end before we even got started. I remembered moving slowly in and out of her and hoping to God it felt good for her because I wanted to do this forever with only her. I remembered waking up the next morning, breathing in the smell of chocolate that still lingered on the pillow and the sheets and praying that I'd be able to find out who she was.

I pulled away from Claire enough so I could see her face. I stared into her eyes, willing every single one of my memories to come back to me so I wouldn't feel so confused. Her fingers continued to play with my hair on the back of my head, bringing everything into focus.

"What's your favorite movie?" I whispered.

I held my breath, desperate for the answer. I watched her face go from content to puzzled to nervous. Why was she nervous? It was a simple question. Unless…

She looked back and forth between my eyes and I watched her blink back tears. Seeing her eyes like this, so bright and nervous jarred a memory loose and I choked on a breath. With perfect clarity I saw myself above her, pulling her leg up and wrapping it around my hip while I stared down into her eyes. I remembered looking into her eyes as I pushed inside of her and forcing myself to stop when I saw her quickly blink back tears.

I remembered hearing her gasp like she was in pain and I asked her if she was okay. She never answered me; she just stared up at me with those beautiful, bright brown eyes, pulled my face down to hers and kissed me. Claire’s face, Claire’s eyes, Claire’s body…

"Heathers," she whispered.

My mind flew back to the present at the sound of her whispered admission. All I could do was stare at her in disbelief. The feel of her in my arms, her breath on my face, the sound of her laughter and the way she blushed when she was embarrassed, I remembered it all. Bumping our shoulders together conspiratorially as we played beer pong, the way her lips felt the first time I kissed her…it was her. It was Claire.

"My favorite movie. It's Heathers," she repeated, mistaking my stunned silence for a hearing impairment. She stared at me like she was willing me to remember. Hoping that I would finally get a clue as to why she and Liz acted so weird when they met me. Why she was so nervous around me that night we showed up at Jim and Liz’s and tried to avoid looking me in the eyes at all cost. Why everyone at the table looked like they’d seen a ghost when Drew brought up the virgin comment. Why she was reticent to share too much with me during our many conversations over the last few weeks - I already knew everything about her. She’d shared it all with me that night so many years ago.

"It's you," I whispered, bringing my hand up to cup her cheek. "Holy shit."

She let out a watery laugh and closed her eyes, leaning her forehead against my chin.

"Oh thank God," she muttered to herself, but loud enough for me to hear.

I reached under her chin and pushed her face back up so I could see her.

"Why didn't you say anything? You probably thought I was a complete asshole."

She smirked at me. "I did. At first. Liz wanted to kick your ass."

"I think she still does," I deadpanned.

She smiled and it made my knees weak.

"Honestly, I didn’t know what to think when I first saw you and you didn’t say anything. I figured you were just a typical as**ole that had countless one-night-stands in college. But after some of the stuff Jim told us you said, Liz figured out pretty quickly that you must have just been too drunk that night to remember everything about me. I’m still going with the idea that I just wasn't very memorable to begin with."

She laughed at her own words but I could tell that idea bothered her.

"Don't even joke about that. Do you have any idea how long I've looked for you? How bat shit crazy Drew thinks I am because I keep trying to find lotion that smells like chocolate and nothing ever comes close to the way I remembered you? I was beginning to think I imagined you."

I pulled her body back against mine and rested my forehead against hers, afraid to let go of her for fear she would disappear again. How could this be real? Drew is never going to believe this. Fuck, I still didn't believe it. Now that she was this close, I could smell her skin without even trying and it made me smile.

"You either didn't have as much to drink that night as I did or you just have a damn good memory. How in the hell did you recognize me?" I asked.

Claire opened her mouth to speak, but right then, the door to the store burst open and she pulled back out of my arms suddenly as we both turned in that direction. The little boy with the mouth flew through the door and I let out a laugh, figuring he had gotten away from his dad again.

"Mommy! I gots ice cream!" he yelled as he ran towards us.

I stood there with my mouth open as Claire bent down and caught the little guy as he threw himself into her arms. She looked up at me in complete and utter horror.

Holy shit. She has a kid. I've been looking for her for five years and she went off and had a kid. Well doesn't this sunk donkey dick.

"Sweetie, that kid is about two steps away from getting one of those kid leash things they sell at the store. Or a shock collar. I wonder if you need a concealed carry permit to get a taser."

In walked the dad I saw earlier, and I tried not to cringe as he walked over to where Claire was crouched down still hugging the boy and looking a little bit like she might puke.

Claire has an old man fetish. This guy has to be pushing fifty. I’d puke too if I was here. That's kind of gross. She's touched those old, wrinkly balls. When he cums I bet it's just a puff of smoke poofing out of his elderly penis. The guy finally glanced over at me, looking me up and down.

"Who are you?" he asked, obviously forgetting our encounter just moments ago due to the Alzheimer’s.

"You have old balls," I mumbled angrily.

"George! I thought I saw your car pull up a little bit ago!" Liz exclaimed as she walked over from her side of the store and right up to Claire, helping her off the floor. I stared at the back of the guy's head as Liz walked over and he turned to give her a hug. He's got thinning hair for fuck's sake. Can his balls even grow hair anymore? I want to punch his hairless old balls.

Claire looked nervously back and forth between Old Man Winter and me. I wonder what he would think about the fact that Claire and I had a past. And that she almost made out with me right before he got here and interrupted us.

"I slept with your wife," I stated, crossing my arms in front of me and staring him down.

All three of them gaped at me with equal looks of confusion on their faces.

"You swept wif my Nana? Did she read you a bedtime story? Papa says she snores."

George took a step towards me and I actually gulped. Regardless of how old his balls were, I was sure he could kick my ass. Or kill me and make it look like an accident.

"Dad," Claire said in warning.

Dad? Oh, fuck. I really am an asshole. I have Tourette's of the mouth. Claire never once mentioned his name when she talked about him. This was the man who punched someone in the face for calling him grandpa. And now I just told him he had old balls. He was going to straight up murder me.

"Shit. I didn't sleep with your wife. Total mistake."

He stopped walking towards me and if I had a brain I would have kept my mouth shut from that point on. Obviously I was drunk the day they were handing those things out.

"I got confused. I meant to say I slept with your daughter."

I heard Liz groan and saw Claire's mouth fall open.

"But it's not what you think," I continued quickly. "I mean, we were both really, really drunk and I didn't even know who she was until a minute ago."

Oh my God, stop. STOP!

One of his eyebrows cocked and I swear I heard him crack his knuckles.

"She smells like chocolate and I don't like to be spanked," I blurted in a panic.

"Jesus Christ..." George muttered, shaking his head.