If it was possible to do so, I think I'd kick my own ass right now.     

Kissing Justin. What the fuck am I thinking?    

If there was an official list of the world's stupidest ideas, this would definitely rank in the top three.     

Justin jerks back quickly and stares down at me, an almost amused expression on his face.     

So not the reaction I was going for. I can't lie, I had the slight intention for this to go a bit further, but obviously... Justin isn't that kind of guy.   

"Em... you better get some sleep." He chuckles and backs away from the couch slowly. "I'll see you...later."    

"O...ok." I stutter and shut my eyes, praying for my dizziness and nausea to subside.    

Justin exits quietly and after the soft click of the lock sounds throughout the room, my eyes fly back open.    

Drunk or not... that kiss was completely uncalled for.     

I don't even know what the hell made me do it.    

Maybe it was the liquor. Maybe it was because I'm missing Max just a tad. Maybe it was because Justin was so unbelievably fucking sweet tonight. I mean really, how many guys would do what he just did for me?    

With the way I've been treating him, none that I know of.    

But... no matter how nice he was or how I try to rationalize this, my mind won't stop racing at the speed of light.    

I mean, is what I just did considered cheating, even though Max and I aren't technically together? Is Justin going to get the wrong idea? Does this mean I have a thing for him, and haven't even realized it yet? Why do I always manage to screw myself in the dumbest possible way? What the fuck is gonna happen the next time I see him? Will it be awkward? Is he going to tell anyone? What do I tell Max if Justin does indeed broadcast this to the whole God damn world?    

Jesus... I am entirely too wasted to process all of this right now.    

So for the moment, I'm going to boil it down to drunken stupidity and forget about it until the morning. See... that's the thing about alcohol, it gives you an excuse for everything.    

All I know is, I've got a very bad feeling that I've just set some major shit in motion and every possible ending has the potential to be catastrophic.

******************    

"So what are we having tonight? Shots? Long Islands? Mojitos?"     

"Umm... nah. Just grab me a sprite." Cooper nods in response and turns to head for the bar, but stops abruptly. He spins around and there's no ignoring that horrified look on his face.    

"Emma.. what did you just say?"    

"Get me a sprite?"    

"Em..." He starts calmly, staring me down like I just arrived from another planet.    

"Cooper..." I mock and giggle at him.     

"Oh God...you're fucking pregnant, aren't you?" He shrieks, a slight hint of panic in his voice.    

"What? No!" I laugh as he stands completely still, staring at me in disbelief.    

"Since when do you drink fucking sprite? I want to know what's going on, and I want to know right now."    

"Jesus Coop... take a valium or something." Jules mutters and rolls her eyes.     

You'd think we'd both be used to Cooper and his dramatics by now, but sometimes... it's kind of hard to ignore.    

"I'm just not in the mood." I shrug. "After last night, I'm not feeling so hot. Nothing's wrong."    

"You're sure?"    

"Yes Cooper. I'm sure." He nods slowly, seemingly satisfied with my answer and continues his journey to the bar.    

"What the hell is his malfunction?" Jules chuckles. "I thought he was having a fucking aneurysm or something."    

"Well... we do drink a lot. And you know he's not a fan of the abnormal."    

"Very true." She nods in agreement.    

I should have figured Cooper would lose his shit when he found out I decided not to drink tonight. But... I think my reasoning is perfectly justified.    

Atleast, the explanation I gave him is anyway.    

I do still feel pretty shitty, that much is for sure, but I've drank my way through plenty of hangovers. Luckily, Cooper failed to remember that little detail.    

There are two very specific reasons I'm not drinking tonight and both make perfect sense to me.    

Number one, I am quickly realizing that I drink entirely too much. I may not always get hammered, but the consumption is still there. I basically just needed a night off.    

Secondly, I'm doing everything in my power to avoid a repeat of last night. I don't know if Justin will show up tonight, but I'm not taking any chances.     

Once is a mistake.    

Twice is intentional.    

Anything above and beyond that... well... you're just asking for trouble then.    

And I most definitely don't want or need any more trouble with the opposite sex.     

"Rum and Coke for me. Apple Martini for Jules, and... a Sprite for Shirley Temple over here." Cooper smirks as he places the glass in front of me.        

"Ya know... maybe the fashion industry isn't your calling. I can see a promising future for you as a barista." Jules grins as Cooper flips her off.   

"You're too funny, really." Cooper mutters.     

Before I can throw in my two cents, the door to the bar opens and in walk the last two people I ever expected to see together. Talk about fucking awkward and random.    

Although, I am quite pleased to see one of them, the other is making me a nervous wreck with just his mere appearance.    

Sure, a part of me expected to see him tonight, but I'd really been hoping not to.  

They both stroll up to the table slowly, casually chatting back and forth and the only thing I can think is that I hope like hell they aren't talking about me.     

Honestly, I'd prefer for them not to get within a hundred yards of each other, but this was inevitable. As much as we're all together, this was bound to happen.    

"Hey! You're back!" I nearly squeal as the two reach our table.     

"That I am." Max nods slowly, a smile stretching across his face.    

As much as I hate to admit it, after last night's events... I'd kind of forgotten that he was coming home today. In the back of my mind, I knew. But well... I've been a little distracted with trying not to have a mental breakdown and all.     

I thought being sober would aid in figuring out just what the hell I was thinking last night, but it's confused me even more, if anything.     

I can't come to any form of a conclusion for what I did last night. Sure, I was drunk... but is that honestly the only reason for kissing Justin?    For some reason, I don't think so.     

"So... what's up?" Justin turns to me, a strange, knowing smile planted on his face.   

"Umm... nothing." I shrug and reach for my glass.        

"Not drinking, I see."    

"Seeing as how I'm fairly close to becoming a friend of Bill W's, I thought I'd give it up for awhile."    

"You were pretty fucking gone last night." He chuckles and shakes his head. "Which, I guess is why..."    

"Say it, and die." I glare at him, ready to kick him under the table if he even attempts to finish that sentence.     

"Come on Em... It's really not a big deal. You were trashed. Shit happens. Although... I do hear the truth tends to come out when a person's been drinking."    

"Outside. Now." I growl at him and hop off my stool before stomping to the door.     

Thank God Max is far too caught up with discussing his trip back to Boston with Jules and Cooper to notice us leaving, because I'm not quite sure how I'd explain this.     

"What?" Justin laughs as we step out of the bar, the faint sound of music and car horns echoing around us.     

"You're so dead set on talking about this, so fucking talk. Or are you only willing to do that in front of Max?"    

"Oh come on! He wasn't paying attention."    

"Doesn't matter. Here's your chance to shove my stupidity in my face, so fucking do it. Hop up on your soapbox and spit your bullshit Justin."    

"Fine." He shrugs. "I think you kissed me last night, because you wanted to. I told you I'd back off, and suddenly you want me."    

I open my mouth to respond, but I can't form a single word.    

What if he's right?    

What if I'm just doing the childish, spoiled brat thing and wanting what I can't have?    

Hold the damn phone... I do not want him, and his reverse psychology/jedi mind trick bullshit isn't going to work.     

"It's almost like it's a game to you or something. I chase after you, you blow me off. I stop chasing, and you do everything you can to reel me back in. What do you want from me Emma?"    

Damnit. Why does he have to be so overly fucking honest, and call me on my bullshit?    

Unfortunately, brutal honesty is a trait I find unbelievably attractive, in any man.    

"I... I want... I want..." I swallow hard and do the best I can to prepare myself for what I'm about to do.     

I push him against the brick wall, a little rougher than I intended and snake my arms around his neck. In a split second, my mouth is on his. It feels almost the same way it did last night.    

Confusing. Amazing. Stupid.     

But now... there isn't even a drop of alcohol in my system. I haven't got a single excuse to fall back on this time.     

His fingers dig into my sides and that's when I get that dizzy, lightheaded sensation that only seems to appear when he's around. I break our contact and stare up at him before uttering the words I never thought I'd say to him, of all people.    

"You wanna go back to my place?"        

If this is in fact a game.... clearly, I am not winning.