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“I swear, Ash, I’m going to shove him out a window.”

“That’d be pretty tough. I haven’t seen many recording studios with windows. Something about sound insulation…”

She was lying on her bed, walking her feet up and down the window frame and enjoying the quality of the shifting September sunlight and the season’s first cool breeze. In the silence she could practically hear Joe rubbing his forehead as he paced in circles, fighting his own emotions and the growing desire to smile.

“Ugh! You know what I mean,” he huffed deliberately, “Man, why can’t you just shut up and listen for once?” The sound of his smile was unmistakable in his voice as it broke across his face.

“Listen, popstar, you and I both know that’s not what you call me for…”

“You’re right; I usually call you for the phone sex. Sadly, you’re not very good at that EITHER.”

“Please, that’s not even funny. We both know two words and I’d blow your mind. And your load.”

Laughter spluttered across the line. In the past few weeks she and Joe had taken to joking about sex. Which was clearly completely inappropriate, but she participated anyway. Because she was bawdy. And because she suspected it was his way of trying to make her feel better. Like he wasn’t looking down on her from some high horse. Like he was in on it, like he got it. Which was ridiculous. He was a virgin who wore a purity ring. He hadn’t the slightest. But she appreciated the effort.

“It’s like they gang up on me and I don’t even know how to, to defuse the situation. I’m constantly making it worse. Like what I said before…I know why they’d be really mad at me after that. But it was the only way I could think of to get them off my back. I mean, obviously I’m just getting them off my back on one thing by giving them something else to be mad about, which isn’t helping either. Clearly I need another tactic, but…”

“Do you listen to yourself when you talk about this stuff?” she interrupted.

“That’s your job.”

“I’m just saying. You should listen to yourself; you kind of talk yourself through it. I just sit here and make affirmative noises once in a while.”

“I do not talk myself through everything. Like just there. I still don’t have another tactic.”

“Okay,” she sighed, “here’s something I learned in therapy.”

“Wait, you were in therapy?”

“Yeah, when I was about sixteen I was in therapy for a while.”

“Wow. Why?”’

“Because I was sixteen. Actually…I was a lot worse when I was seventeen, I just never told anyone about the panic attacks and—ANYWAY. Not the point.” Her feet had frozen in place on the frame, she hadn’t talked about this in years. “Honestly. It really was just because I was a sixteen-year-old girl. And because I’m neurotic. At that point I was just making problems for myself inside my own head, giving myself shit to stress out over. It’s one of my finer skills.”

“I would never have guessed that about you.”

“Trust me, I’m a basket case. I’m just a lot older than you are. I’ve gotten better at hiding it from other people. Besides, lately I’m too busy helping you, to dump on you.”

“You should dump on me, you know. I shouldn’t be the only one dumping. That’s not a very good friendship.”

“If I ever really need to, I will. Promise. Now, can we get back to you?”

“I guess,” he said reluctantly. “It was kind of making me feel better to talk about you being a mess.”

“Haha. Hilarious. Almost as good as your terrible phone sex joke. But seriously, back to the task at hand.”

“Fine.”

“When situations get like that, you have to stop talking. Listen to what they’re saying. And then ask them a question.”

“Ask them a question? How is that going to help?”

“Here’s the thing about communication, especially in really tricky situations: it’s not about talking. It never is. It’s about listening.”

“So, when they’re screaming down my throat I should just sit there and say nothing.” It was half-question, half-statement. It was also half sarcastic.

“No,” she intoned, “You should sit there and listen, which is different. And then, when they’ve stopped screaming—and they will—you should ask them a pertinent question. Like, you could ask them why they feel that way. Keep asking them questions until you really understand what’s going on. Then ask them what you can do to ensure things don’t happen that way again in the future.”

“And then?”

“By the time you really understand what’s going on, you’ll know what to say, if anything needs to be said at all. By that time you may have diffused the situation entirely. And more importantly, you’ll have made them both feel like you’re taking them seriously and that you’re really trying to come to a positive solution that works for everyone.”

“Sometimes I just want to walk away from them. From all of this.”

“You’re brothers, and you’re friends, and you’re a business. That’s a lot of things to be to each other at once. I’m sure it’s really stressful.”

“I feel like I’m under water. Like I haven’t been up for air in months. And we start the second leg of the tour as soon as we get the sixth episode in the can, which is going to be even worse. I don’t know if I can keep up anymore. What if I’m sinking?”

“Joe, you’re not sinking. I wouldn’t let you do that.”

“I miss you,” he sighed. He sounded like a child.

“I miss you too, popstar. Why—“ she hesitated, she’d never extended the invitation before and part of her knew it was a bad idea, “Why don’t you come out here? Like, for a visit. A long weekend or something. It could be like a break. Like coming up for air.”

“Everyone has off for Columbus Day…” he trailed off, obviously working through a plan in his head, she could hear the excitement growing in his voice, “I could just tell them I was visiting people in New Jersey or something…maybe Mandy would help cover. And like, whatever. It’s not like we spend our free time around each other anymore anyway. No one would miss me.”

“Think about it.”

“I will.”

“Now, get back in there and record me another hit song. I need another album to sell!”

He laughed.

“Fine, fine.”

“Bye, popstar.”

“Bye…and, Ash?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks.”

“No problem. Later.”

She dropped her Blackberry to the bed beside her and slapped a palm against her forehead. It was a terrible idea, inviting him out for a long weekend. She was having a hard enough time maintaining the appropriate distance in their relationship over the phone and internet. Having him in her house for a weekend was complete madness. It was an invitation for him to misinterpret her intentions.

Not to mention the fact that it would mean an entire weekend spent cooped up in the confines of her apartment—where she spent entirely too much time during the work week—she couldn’t be seen in public with Joe Jonas. Not unless she wanted another mess to clean up. Her strange relationship with Joe was enough of a mess on its own. The press, their families, his fans…that was more than either one of them needed to deal with.

But she just felt so badly for him. The quiet sadness in his voice had pushed her over the edge. He really did just need some breathing room, some perspective. And if she could help him find that, if she could bring the happiness back to his voice, well, she’d know she’d done the right thing.

***

Joe had shown up on her doorstep two days earlier bearing a huge bouquet of ranunculus—they have the craziest name, he exclaimed—and a duffle bag that contained enough clothing and accessories for a trip two times as long. So far she was pretty sure the trip had been exactly what he needed. An escape. They’d done next to nothing, and certainly nothing of importance, and she’d enjoyed the weekend locked inside far more than she’d expected.

While the credits rolled on ‘Almost Famous’ Joe was running his fingers rhythmically through her hair as she lay with her head in his lap. A feeling of contentment unlike anything she’d experienced in literally years settled over her body, tension melting further and further away with each stroke of Joe’s fingertips. Absently she began to hum Tiny Dancer to herself, smiling when Joe, head tilted back to rest on the sofa, began to sing along softly.

“This is perfect,” she sighed.

“Almost,” he whispered under his breath, and although she knew he hadn’t meant for her to hear, she could not keep the question to herself.

“Almost?” she asked.

“Nothing.”

“What?”

“It’s nothing, Ash.”

“Come on Joe, you never hide anything from me,” she pressed. His shoulders slumped.

“I was just thinking about the only way this could be more perfect.”

She sat up to look him in the eye, the question evident in her gaze. He reached a hand out, fingers splaying across her jaw, thumb gently caressing her lower lip. Words were unnecessary.

“Oh, Joe,” she sighed. “You know we can’t…”

“No, I don’t know we can’t. I don’t understand…”

“You’re six and a half years younger than me. I’m way too old for you. The things I need in a relationship…it’s too much. You’re a kid. You shouldn’t be dealing with that. And we have SUCH different value systems; our religious backgrounds are so different, what you believe in…” she felt herself rambling and took a deep breath to control the rising tide of words. “And just think about our families, I mean, they’d never understand. They won’t even understand our friendship.”

“We could make them understand, I know we could,” he insisted.

“What about our careers? Yours especially. I mean, this would be bad for my career. But not like. I mean, for you this would be career SUICIDE. I can’t let you do that.”

“But what about your feelings? You haven’t said one word about your feelings.” Her heart stopped at the pleading in his tone.

“That’s not the point,” she responded dryly.

“No, that’s entirely the point.”

“No, Joe, that is so beside the point.” Her voice was rising. “It doesn’t matter, any of it, because there is just…there is too much. We can’t go there.”

“Tell me you have no feelings for me and I’ll let it die.” He demanded. She responded with silence. She did not want to say it. “Tell me, Ash. Tell me and I’ll let it die.”

“I don’t have feelings for you, Joe, not like that,” she whispered, choked, looking down at her hands. She could not meet his eyes. Did not want to know what she’d find there.

She could hear him swallow thickly. Still, she could not look at him. Inching backward, she crossed the sofa, trying to make room to breathe. When she was that close to him their feelings were suffocating. She wanted to take it all back. To never have pushed him for an answer to ‘almost.’ She should have known where it was going to go.

“Let’s go out,” he said, first to break the silence.

“Are you crazy? We can’t go out. Someone will recognize you, and then we’ll have a real problem on our hands.”

“Come on, Ash, we’re going stir crazy in here. And we never go ANYWHERE. I mean, we’re in New York, it’s retarded that we just sit here in this little apartment all the time.”

“Joe, you know it’s not that easy.”

“I’ll wear a disguise. Seriously. I can wear my glasses, and a hat. And my hair, I’ll make it curly.” He ticked the ideas off on his fingers, as though he were working down a list. “Besides, it’s not like anyone knows I’m here or is even looking for me. We’ll be fine.”

“But what if—“

“Look, I have as much at stake here as you do, Ash, come on. I’m willing to take the risk…Please, I can’t sit here and argue with you anymore.”

He knew her too well. Knew the break in his voice would send her over the edge. Would guilt her into nearly anything.

“Fine. Let me call the girls and see what they’re doing…I think there’s a reading tonight and probably drinks after…”