Just What I Needed

Just What I Needed (17)

It was a nice sunny day today, and Keely was taking advantage of it. She'd pulled on a pair of short white jean shorts that left almost the whole length of her long slim legs bare, she had pulled on a plain low v-neck tee that wasn't quite tight, but was flirting with her flat stomach. Over top of the tank top, Keely pulled on a big red, black and white long sleeved plaid button up shirt, but she left it loose. Keely had had a shower, so her hair was now curly madly over her shoulders. She probably looked sloppy, but she was too tired to car.

When she was walking past, people mostly wouldn't notice, but some would do a double take and look back down at the magazine in front of them. Probably seeing a picture of Keely hanging out with everybody, and it was already starting to annoy Keely even though it was a few individuals.

Sighing, she ducked into one of those chain music stores. Not only was she happy to be surrounded by music, she was getting away from the prying eyes of some ten year old.

Automatically, Keely considered what genre The Script would be in.

Probably lumped into the rock section, Keely decided rolling her eyes, there were just too many versions of rock to just have one section, it had always bothered her. Not having the best - and by not the best, Keely meant the worst on entire planet - sense of direction, it took her about fifteen minutes of walking around the store aimlessly to find the rock section.

But that didn't mean Keely didn't enjoy the wandering, because she had about seven CD's in her hand that her will power hadn't been strong enough to refuse.

Though she did find it kind of ironic that the main stream pop section was straight across from the rock. Keely wasn't really paying attention to where she was walking, but that wasn't unusual.

Running her fingers over the CD cases as she passed, Keely didn't let one get passed her guard. And she couldn't refuse herself when she saw the one Jeff Buckley album she didn't have. Turning, to walk straight forward, Keely bumped into someone.

"I'm so sorry," Keely apologized immediately.

"It's fine," the voice muttered defensively.

Surprised at the tone, Keely - for the first time - looked at the person she had ran into and had to hold back a snort.

There - in all his glory - was Mr. Seth Ryan.

He looked as if he'd just walked off a photo shoot, and Keely could only roll her eyes. Seth was wearing navy blue jeans with a thick black belt and The Doors t-shirt beneath a black leather jacket. To finish the look off, he was wearing black wayfarer sunglasses and his dark hair was sticking up slightly in the front.

"The sunglasses aren't really hiding you," Keely pointed out scathingly. What was it about this guy that made her so defensive and catty?

"Are you trying to moon the whole city in those shorts? About all of the forty year old guys are drooling over you now," he returned.

Maybe this was why, Keely decided instantly as he made his insulting comment. But she did have to fight the urge to tug the shorts down as his eyes passed over her long bare legs, she hadn't realized they were so short until now.

Snorting, she saw that he was holding the Scripte album she wanted.

"I don't really think this is your style," Keely smiled sweetly while plucking the album from his hands, the smile was all the more dangerous by it's sweetness. "After listening to your music, I think this fits better."

The side of Seth's mouth twitched with some sarcastic amusement Keely didn't understand when she pushed the Rick Astley CD in her hands. "Never Gonna Give You Up? Trying to give me a hint there Staub? First of all, don't pretend you know me, because you know nothing about me. And," he put the album down, leaning towards her.