Poppy rolled her eyes at Anthony's text about her and Chris being 'friends with benefits.' He had the ability to turn anything around and make it into something else, and usually she'd get annoyed by it. However, this time she didn't seem to care. She wouldn't admit it, but she actually did like Chris. She had for a while, but between filming and their busy schedules, she felt as if they never had time together alone; there was never a good opportunity to tell him. Besides, she was fairly certain he only saw her as a friend. He never really hinted at anything more, from her perspective.

She let out a sigh as her phone buzzed yet again, this time waking Chris up.

"Hey," he mumbled sleepily as she looked up at him.

She was still snuggled into his chest, as she had been all night. He had somehow slumped down further into the couch, his legs propped up on the coffee table, and his left arm holding Poppy against him.

"Did you sleep okay?" She asked, an apologetic look on her face; he didn't at all look comfortable.

"For once, yes." He rubbed his eye with his free hand, a dopey grin on his face.

Poppy narrowed her eyes at him, "What're you grinning for?" She chuckled lightly.

"No reason. But you're hair looks lovely this morning."

Letting out a groan, Poppy wiggled out of his arm and stood up. She flipped her head over to gather her blonde locks up into a messy bun before tying it off with the band around her wrist.

"You're an ass." She joked, glancing around the living room for the puppy.

"I've never been called that before." Chris laughed, scratching his scruffy chin.

"Well, there's a first time for everything. Where's Jabba?" She asked, no sign of him anywhere.

Chris shrugged and stood up, looking around for the puppy. He followed Poppy down the hallway to her bedroom where they then found Jabba curled up in the middle of her bed.

"He's been here, what, one night and thinks he's the king of everything?" Poppy joked before turning to see Chris looking at a picture she had on her dresser.

"I didn't know you had this." He said, picking it up.

Her cheeks flushed, she hurried over to him and took the frame from his hands. It was a picture of the two of them together at his house for a barbecue, and the fact that it was the only picture set out on her dresser aside from a picture of her and her family, embarrassed her.

"Of course I have it. We're best friends; why wouldn't I have a picture of my best friend?" She babbled, setting it back down on the dresser top.

Chris arched a brow before his expression softened, "Are we?"

"Are we what?" She asked, a lump in her throat.

"Best friends?" He questioned seriously, his lips pursed afterwards.

"I thought that's what we were." Poppy said lowly, her cheeks still the slightest shade of red.

Chris stared down at her a few more seconds before saying, "Sometimes I don't feel like we are."

"Then what do you feel like we are?" She asked, chewing on her lip as she awaited his answer.

Chris shrugged, brushing her question off, "I feel like we don't hang out as much as we used to."

"We'll hang out more, okay? I promise." She smiled, pulling him into a hug.

"Okay," Chris mumbled into her hair, though he didn't return her smile.

He just wished he had the guts to tell her what he was really thinking.