Federal Affair

Chapter 5

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.