Cold coffee and a halfway stale doughnut wasn't exactly what I had in mind for a mid-week brunch. Nick had pulled into a corner cafe ten minutes from his house and since then, we'd been sitting at a small wooden table by the floor-to-ceiling windows, not saying a word to each other. This was supposed to be his way of "making up for last night." However, not discussing the issue at hand and allowing my mind the free time to swim with concern was not helping anything.

I had ordered my favorite, a peppermint mocha, and what I thought would be a fresh, warm, glazed doughnut. I ended up with the complete opposite. Go figure.

I stared blankly at my partially-eaten doughnut until I began to see spots in my vision. I felt numb. I wanted nothing more than to go home, crawl in bed beneath a pile of pillows and blankets, and sleep the rest of the week away. Memories of last night and this morning were mimicking my washing machine's spin cycle as they danced through my head. I didn't want to be alone with my thoughts, but I also didn't want to be alone with Nick. I needed to get home. I needed to clear my head.

I needed to talk to Derek.

"Will we be leaving anytime in the near future?" I asked Nick in the most unenthusiastic tone I could muster.

His brows were drawn together in a frown as he typed away at a text, not bothering to acknowledge me. I was growing impatient. I wanted to go home.

"Nick," I said sternly. "So help me, I will pour this coffee on your head."

Nick finally looked up from his phone through messy, partially side-swept bangs. He glared at me, setting his phone on the table and adjusting his position in the flimsy wooden chair.

"Yes," he answered simply and sipped his latte. Judging by the cringe that followed, his coffee wasn't what he'd expected either.

"Oh, how I just adore sitting in a coffee shop with a one-night stand, having cold coffee and stale food when I should be at work, or at least home." I fluttered my eyelashes, my expression bathed in sarcasm.

Nick breathed a laugh and ran his fingers through his bangs. "You don't like me very much, do you?"

"I'm not your biggest fan. No." My response was calmer as I picked at my doughnut. That was a lie.

"All this time I thought you loved me." He faked horror with his hand on his chest. "I'm heartbroken. How will I ever survive?"

"With any luck, you might not," I retorted. Okay, maybe that was a little harsh.

Nick cocked an eyebrow but didn't respond. He scooted back to stand up and the chair made a loud scraping sound against the tile, similar to that of nails on a chalkboard, earning a grimace from me.

"Come on," he groaned, tossing his barely-touched coffee cup in the trash.

I disposed of my order as well, following him out the door. As I walked behind Nick, I found myself absentmindedly staring at his ass and the way his jeans hugged his thighs. They fit him a little too well.

A gust of wind rushed passed me as a car spun around the corner of the building, driving too fast for being in a parking lot. When the chilly air brought a tightness to my nipples, I cursed myself once again for not wearing a fucking bra. In Nick's thin white cotton shirt, I felt like I was wearing a clear plastic bag. I was positive everyone and their grandmother could see through the fabric and I probably looked like I was about to enter a wet T-shirt contest.

We hopped back in Nick's Audi and I became even more frustrated when he sat behind the wheel texting instead of driving the vehicle.

"Is that all you can do?" I asked. The longer he took, the more anxious I was to get home.

"It's work," he mumbled.

"Work can't wait a few minutes?" I questioned, crossing my arms over my chest.

"Not this particular issue."

His scowl had returned as he replied to the party responsible for the incessant beeps sounding from his phone. I got the idea he wasn't pleased by whatever the person was saying. My curiosity peaked, I inched just a tad bit closer to him in an effort to catch a glimpse of his messages. Just when I got close enough, he pressed the power button, blackening the screen.

"Now we can leave."

We didn't make eye contact but his knowing expression told me he was onto me. I slumped back against the seat and shifted my focus back to Derek. Well, Derek and Christine.

The vague image of them touching and kissing and pressing their bodies together like tectonic plates forming a damn mountain was enough to bring my migraine roaring back in seconds. I so desperately hoped that I'd dreamt it. This whole thing had to be just one terrible nightmare. I refused to believe that my fiancé had cheated on me – or that I'd willingly cheated on my fiancé. It couldn't be real.

The more I thought about it, the more I wanted to throw up.

"Okay," I said quietly, staring at the big red lettering above the entrance to the coffee shop which read Java Cafe.

I looked at everything besides Nick, as if ignoring him would make the whole situation a lot less awkward. I surveyed the scenery around us. There was a long line of stopped vehicles at the intersection waiting for the green light. A few birds were perched on the power lines and the roof of the strip mall surrounding us. I saw an older woman walking her dog and a couple exiting a hair salon.

I tried to focus on everything but the issue. It didn't work.

"I'm sorry," Nick's voice jolted me out of my daze. "I didn't mean to be a dick. I'm just under a lot of pressure right now and I let it get to me for a sec. I'm sorry."

His apology seemed sincere but the stubborn part of me didn't want to accept it or forgive him. All Nick Granger had done since I'd met him was screw up my life. I didn't want to buy that he was anything more than a man who'd bewitched me into cheating on my fiancé.

I knew that wasn't true, though.

H sighed, turning the key in the ignition. "I'll take you home now and you'll never have to deal with me again, alright?"

That seemed fair enough. I never wanted to deal with him again.

Or did I?

"Yeah," I muttered, looking at the traffic as he backed the car out of the parking space and made his way onto the main road.

Neither of us said anything for a long time until we were within four blocks of my house and it suddenly occurred to me that I'd never told him my address.

"How do you know where I live?" I instantly demanded, turning to look at him. Why did he know my address?

Nick's jaw seemed to tighten, telling me he was clinching his teeth. "You told me."

My frown deepened. I knew I hadn't. "No. I didn't."

"You did," he insisted more calmly, turning the wheel as we rounded a street corner.

"When?" I thought there was no way he could fool me when I knew for a fact I hadn't given him my address this morning.

"Last night," he said in a duh tone.

Oh, no. What all had I told him last night? What other private information had I divulged? I couldn't remember half of the night. I may not have told him my address at all. He might be using my cloudy memory as a cover. What if he's actually a stalker? I had no way of knowing if he was telling me the truth because I couldn't fucking remember. What if-

"Relax," Nick frowned. He'd noticed the concern sweeping across my face. He could probably guess what was on my mind.

"This is about as relaxed as I'm gonna get right now," I snapped. I felt like my nerves had been battered and deep-fried about six times.

We turned another corner and I knew we were only a block from my house. I was nervous. What if Derek was there? I'd have to explain where I'd been and why Nick was bringing me home after a night of no one hearing a peep out of me. Derek was probably worried sick.

"Nick, how did I end up going home with you last night? Why didn't I go home with Derek?" Had I been too drunk and Nick had taken advantage of the opportunity? Had I even known where he was taking me? Had I protested?

"Because Prince Charming was sucking face with What's-Her-Name," he answered too casually, leading me to believe he was making it up.

Derek wouldn't do that to me. Derek loved me. Why would he cheat on me? He wouldn't. He couldn't. There was no way that was true. Nick was fucking with my emotions, probably thinking he could get me back in bed. No way that was gonna happen. No way.

But I still couldn't explain away that stupid image of them together. Maybe Nick had spiked my drink and I was simply dreaming it up based on what he wanted me to think.

"Bullshit," I challenged. I didn't know if it was bullshit or not, though.

"It's not bullshit," Nick chuckled. "That's the whole reason you kissed me to begin with. You went to find Sweetie Pie and you saw him and Christine making out. Then you came back to me crying about how much you hated him."

He had to be lying. This had to be a sick joke.

"No way that happened," I shook my head and swallowing hard. "Derek wouldn't do that to me."

"Let me guess." The corners of Nick's mouth were turned up in amusement. "Because he loves you, right? He wouldn't hurt a fucking fly because he loves you. Guess what, babe. Any man who cheats on you doesn't fucking love you. At all. He doesn't care. He's probably just using you because you put out."

I'd officially had enough. I opened the door in a fit of rage and stepped out of the car while it was still in motion causing Nick to slam on the brakes. I decided I was going to walk that last fifty feet just to get the hell away from him.

He put the car in park in the middle of the road and chased after me. I had a flashback to two hours prior when he'd tried to seduce me in his bedroom as he caught up to me in the street and grabbed my upper arm, halting me in front of my neighbor's house.

"What?" I spat, spinning around to face him. If looks could kill, Nick Granger would already be six feet under.

"Carrie-"

"Don't even start!" I yelled, half expecting one of my neighbors to come outside to investigate where the noise was coming from. "In fifteen hours you've managed to ruin my relationship, my clothing, my day, and probably my professional reputation! If you think you can-"

I was silenced by the swift action of Nick's lips pressed against mine. I was stunned. The voice in my head screamed for me to break from my trance and run but I was frozen still in the middle of the road where all my neighbors could see me kissing a man who was not my fiancé, in a practically see-through shirt, and I knew my hair looked like a fucking tumbleweed.

Nick's lips were soft against mine. Something about him smelled like cinnamon. I loved cinnamon. His grip on my arm loosened and he moved his other hand to rest on my lower back, pulling me flush against him. My body involuntarily melted into him as I began to kiss him back. His kisses became more urgent the longer we stood there. My free arm snaked around his neck, tugging him closer and deepening the kiss. He tasted like perfection, despite the subtle hint of that latte on his breath.

I felt a couple raindrops land on my shoulder and somewhere off in the distance I heard police sirens, probably pulling someone over on the nearby freeway. Nick only stopped kissing me when a car honked at him for blocking the road with his vehicle.

Embarrassed, I tried to stay behind Nick, hoping the driver wasn't anyone I knew. The car aggressively hopped the curb around the Audi and sped past us quickly. Nick didn't seem to mind that he'd inconvenienced the driver, or that his passenger door was still open and it was beginning to rain.

He turned back to face me and I was surprised at the hurt in his eyes. I shivered as the cold raindrops started to tap against my skin faster. If the shirt I was wearing wasn't see-through before, it was certainly about to be.

"You didn't push me away," Nick said. He sounded disappointed, which surprised me.

I wiped the raindrops off my cheek. "Why do you seem upset about that?"

"I'm not so sure I can give you a comprehendible answer on that one," he responded, pushing his bangs back, revealing his forehead.

"Why not?"

"I guess I wanted you to push me away so I'd know you weren't interested," he explained, staring up at the sky as thunder cracked overhead. "I thought I could confirm for myself that I had no chance with you. But now... Now I feel like I do."

I watched the way the rain cascaded over his body, soaking his hair and clothes. I watched the tiny water droplets run down his arms and face. I studied the way his light gray shirt suddenly became almost as see-through as mine.

I was cold, shivering, and I knew Nick could see my hardened nipples through the thin material. I could see every feature of his upper half through the miniscule layer covering him. Every muscle and curve of his perfectly sculpted body was visible. He looked like a model for a Giorgio Armani cologne commercial. He could certainly win a wet T-shirt contest given half the chance.

Despite the intense longing in my gut to touch him again – to kiss him again, I knew this wasn't right. "I can't do this, Nick," I finally said, looking deeply into his eyes. "I can't do this to Derek. I can't put myself in this position. I've already screwed up enough. I just want to forget last night ever happened."

But I didn't really want to forget.

Nick exhaled and looked down at the pavement. "You might be able to forget last night, but I don't think I can."

All I could do was stare at him. No words formed on my lips. Had a one-night stand caused Nick to have feelings for me? That didn't make sense. Men were supposed to love one-night stands because they didn't entail feelings and relationships. Nick was supposed to be thrilled he got that one night and never talk to me again. That's how it was supposed to go. Right?

"Why not?" I asked hesitantly. I wasn't sure if I wanted to hear the answer.

"Because I don't want to forget what happened between us, Carrie," he frowned, gripping the tail of his shirt. "I don't want to forget the fights or the sex or the after-sex conversations until four. I'm sorry you think I fucked everything up for you with your fiancé, but as far as I'm concerned, he'd already fucked it up with his own affair."

That damn vision of Derek and Christine played through my head again like a low-quality porno. I still didn't want to accept the possibility that it had really happened. But if it had, I couldn't be too pissed at him because I'd gone and done the same thing. Surely, we'd be equally as livid with each other. Maybe that would make us even and we could move on.

I mentally slapped myself. What the hell was I even thinking? Making shit even doesn't fix a damn thing.

My thoughts ventured to what else may have transpired between them. I shuddered at the possibility that Derek might have taken Christine back to his apartment. A spurt of rage burned through my veins like gasoline igniting within me.

One-night stands were not supposed to happen. Derek and Christine was not supposed to happen. Nick Granger was not supposed to happen.

This wasn't supposed to fucking happen!

"Nick, I need to go."

I didn't think I could stand talking to him much longer without breaking down into a crying mess. I was probably going to do that once I got inside anyway, and I'd rather cry in the privacy of my home than in the middle of the street where anyone could watch my horrible soap opera of a morning.

"I'll go," he said softly, looking as if his words felt like a bee sting on his tongue.

I watched him walk back to his car slowly, slamming the passenger door and speeding off like he couldn't get me out of his rearview fast enough. I watched his brake lights as he slowed to turn at the next street.

Watching his car fade into the distance sent my emotions from bad to worse. I immediately missed him.

Trekking up the driveway to my front door, I found it unlocked. Normally I would've been worried but I figured Derek had come by to see if I was here and he'd probably left the door unlocked out of courtesy, knowing I didn't have my keys with me.

At least I hoped that was the reason.

No one was there and nothing was missing or vandalized, so it was safe for me to assume no one had picked the lock and broken in.

I wandered into the kitchen, opening the fridge. My appetite had returned and I desperately needed sustenance. Unfortunately, I was running low on groceries, having not been shopping in a couple weeks. I grabbed the first thing I saw: an orange.

I peeled and ate my fruit quietly, standing in front of the sink. I didn't hear the front door open but I nearly jumped out of my skin when I heard boots on the wooden floor. I froze against the counter, waiting for the Ax Murderer to enter my kitchen.

To my relief, it was Derek.