Only Mine novel Chapter 1

My eyes are so heavy from lack of sleep I'm barely keeping them open. It makes it difficult to wait in line at my favorite coffee shop just around the corner from my apartment, but for my necessary morning caffeine shot, I’ll make an effort. I'm putting all my hopes in those coffee beans being roasted there to save me from my raging hangover. I guess the only one to blame for feeling this way is me. Well, my best friend Hanna does take some of the blame; she can handle her liquor far better than I do, so doing shots with her on a weekday is not one of my brightest ideas.

The smell of freshly roasted coffee is wafting through the air and it smells delightful, my whole body buzzing at the anticipation of tasting it. I know, the words of a pure addict, but coffee is my lifeline. And at the moment just about the only thing that can improve my hazy brain.

Half sleeping on my legs and waiting for the line to move a guy in front of me catches my eye.

His loud conversation on the phone with his 'best buddy Joe' is hard to ignore, and the vivid description of last night's party he attended just about gives me another painful poke to my brains. The way his mouth turns up in a smirk annoys me beyond being normal for a stranger, but I don't even have enough energy to analyze my hostile thoughts. Considering he is quite cute I'm sure there is a girl-story behind all of his bragging.

Before I can shut my brain out my mind starts wandering to what might put that smirk on his face (and here I thought I'm temporarily brain dead). I start zoning out, thinking when the last time a smirk like this was directed my way.

My ex-boyfriend Scott, ex since six months ago, wore this devilish smirk on his face in the sexiest way possible. I used to love it. Little did I know how much that smirk was actually mocking me. I can still hear the words of his best friend telling me I need to wake the hell up because he is cheating on me every chance he gets. His actual best friend betrayed him because he felt bad for me being so naïve.

I really thought I was over it, I mean, come on, it's been six months already. And we dated only for a year and a half. Yesterday, however, I had an epic relapse.

My eyes close down at the painfully embarrassing moment I recall from last night. I'm such an idiot when I drink.

I saw Scott in the same club as Hanna and I went to and we ended up chatting on the dance floor. We kept our conversation light and on a neutral ground ever since the whole drama of our breakup happened.

I may be stupid, but I don't like holding a grudge. When he approached me a month after separating to truly apologize for everything, I forgave him and we decided to remain somewhat friendly.

So this was me yesterday being friendly. Until I got wasted like a champ and Hanna and I ended up taking a ride home from Scott. Of course, Hanna was dropped home before me.

I don't know at what point we decided that discussing our terrible relationship choices is a good idea in our current state, but it happened. And after a few heated comments… well, I broke. And I mean complete and utter breakdown. I sobbed in his arms for good ten minutes, my tears mixed with mascara staining his shirt while asking him why did he have to hurt me so badly.

The sound of the doorbell pulls me momentarily out of my thoughts and I can't help but cringe at the memory of my crying mess yesterday. I had a hard time getting over him, but I was fine now for quite some time. I'm truly a bloody idiot when I get drunk.

My headache is just building up with last night's memories and I turn away annoyingly from the guy talking on the phone in front of me. But I can't block my thoughts anymore. Last evening comes crashing back.

Scott was truly in shock looking at me sobbing in his arms, trying to calm me down and apologizing, but I just kept crying. And the only way he knew to calm me down was to kiss me. He held my head with both of his hands and pulled me in for the roughest kiss he has ever given me. And I responded instantly, without a second thought. Frustrations from everything that happened poured in the contact of our bodies let us deal with the current state the only way we knew how.

We were pulling and then pushing at each other, biting harshly on our lips, neither of us backing down. His hands moved to my back crushing me to his chest in an almost painful but agonizingly comforting embrace. When his hand slipped under my shirt and his rough hands connected with my feverish skin I finally managed to broke out of the haze and push back, breaking our entangled bodies in the process. We were panting heavily, looking at each other like wild animals and pure dark lust filled the entire space around us. If there was one thing we were always good at, it was sex.

And then my brain finally caught up what was happening - it sobered me up instantly.

He reached for my arm in an attempt to pull me back, but I was beyond angry with myself to let things get even that far. I wished my reasonable mind would show up sooner. I fought his attempts to pull me back in his arms and I could swear there was a hint of hurt in his eyes. It was probably the first time in six months that I realized he wasn't as unaffected about our breakup as I thought. But I really didn't want to let my thoughts go down that road.

I tried reasoning with him and explaining I don't ever want to be involved with him like this again despite my little crying confessions. After talking about it he agreed on not taking things further. He knew we were a crash-and-burn kind of combination. We always were. It wasn't like he wanted to start something again, either. It was just the way we always handled our pointless fights before. In bed.

We hugged and before I stepped out of the car he pulled me back one more time. His hand cupped my face and his sad eyes searched mine before speaking.

"I am sorry, Jessica. I'm sorry I couldn't be what you needed me to be. But seeing you today, crying in my arms like this..."

He trailed off and sighed, remorse and sadness shadowing his face.

"Let's just say, I do have a heart after all. Because it just shattered to a million pieces."

Sure he was a lying cheating idiot, but he wasn't a bad person. And his words tugged at my heart. I knew he had feelings for me once. There were just other things that he needed to resolve before getting into a committed relationship. I did, however, feel some satisfaction at hearing them.

Before I turned to leave I really looked at him one last time, his beautiful bluish-green eyes, hard jaw peppered with five o'clock shadow that wrapped around his sinful lips, then my eyes moved down to his muscular arm, his hand clenching and unclenching a fist. I honestly think we had genuine feelings for each other at some point, but at that moment both of us realized it was really the last time we ever touched. And I was fine with it. I think we both were. I gave him a small peck on his lips before leaving the car and the next thing I remember is waking up with a head that weighs around ten tons.

A familiar voice of my favorite barista Paul pulls me out of my thoughts.

"Hello Jess, ordering anything today or just staring out in space?"

I shake my head and roll my eyes mockingly, his laugh at my pathetic state cheering me up momentarily.

"Americano, double shot today, please."

"I knew there was a reason you look like shit today. Had a long night?"

Now it's me that starts laughing.

"You could say that."

He turns around and prepares my coffee, winking before handing me the cup and wishing me a good day. I open the lid on my cup and inhale it deeply, my head almost at ease with just the smell of it. I start turning around to leave, and, of-fucking-course, with my hazy mind and sleepy body with no reflexes what-so-ever I collide heavily with a broad chest behind me, spilling half of my coffee on the guy's crisp white polo shirt. He hisses in pain and I cringe before looking up and colliding with the most piercing green eyes I have ever seen in my life.

I look in shock and awe at this astounded stranger who seems really irritated and my mouth just hangs open at how ridiculously good-looking he is. Scott who?

He has short dark hair, square jaw, and fresh stubble lining his face. And his full lips. Oh god, why am I staring at his lips? He is looking at me with a bit of annoyance but at my obvious lack of words, slowly amusement appears on his face.

"E-excuse me. I am so terribly sorr-ry. Did I burn you?" I stutter.

He just shakes his head and looks down at his shirt. I involuntarily cringe when I follow his gaze. The big portion of his shirt is stained with a dark brown coffee mark. I grab tissues nearby and start tapping his shirt, my hand tracing over his chest that is unbelievably firm under my touch. Oh my, I'll completely embarrass myself if I don't pull myself together right this moment. It's just some random hot guy. He gently grabs my hand, stopping me in my frenzied movements of trying to make his shirt white again and mostly just making it worse. I swear my hand feels marked somehow being touched by him. What in the actual f? I think I might still be drunk.

"Hey, hey, don't worry. It's fine. You don't need to do this."