I didn't bother to reply.

"I'm going to shower," I said.

Beau took a sip from his coffee. "There's breakfast waiting for you when you're finished."

Even the shower couldn't cut me a break. The temperature of the water was subzero and the first blast of water that hit my skin caused me to howl in shock. It was followed by a knock on the bathroom door.

"Everything all right in there honey? Your screams were something right out of a horror movie."

"Holy c.r.a.p," I exclaimed. "I think the ghost of old man winter just possessed your bathroom pipes."

I allowed for the water to run a bit longer, hoping that the temperature would eventually warm up, but no such luck.

"There's no hot water in this place?" I asked.

"In the kitchen there is, but not in the bathroom."

I frowned. "Well I'm certainly not going to bathe myself in your kitchen."

"Now wouldn't that be a sight."

I shook my head and stared at the bathroom ceiling out of exasperation. "So you're telling me there's no hot water in this bathroom."

"You are correct."

s.h.i.t.

"Anything else I can do for you?" he asked.

My brain was still in an alcohol induced fog and I voiced my displeasure with a sound that was a cross between "f.u.c.k" and "ugh".

I needed my morning coffee soon.

I spent the next ten minutes scrubbing myself with a cold, wet, towel and endured the icy stream of water running through my hair.

It was the worst shower I'd ever experienced. After getting changed and opening the door, I must have looked as pleased as a wet cat.

Beau walked over to me and handed me the steaming cup of coffee, which I s.n.a.t.c.hed up eagerly.

I basked in the aura of the hot, liquid warmth that the aromatic coffee provided and let out a satisfied sigh.

"Beignet?" Beau asked as he opened up the brown paper bag.

"Please," I replied.

The food was just as delightful as the coffee. The beignet was a wonderful deep fried pastry dusted with white powdery sugar that was an amalgamation between a donut and a French fry.

I was starving and wolfed down breakfast like an unrefined heathen.

After I swallowed the last morsel of food, I turned to Beau, who was standing in front of his bed, laying out an elegant looking black suit. Next to it was an exotic red, flowing mermaid dress with a scandalous low cut neckline that promised the girl who wore it the desires of any man.

"Has Lincoln come back yet?" I asked, diverting my gaze from Beau. As I mentioned his name, my thoughts drifted back to Lincoln as I recalled in vivid detail him lifting me onto the piano, his mouth devouring mine as his fingers moved inside me, sending me into a state of bliss. But that was before the shame and the guilt ate away at me like acid, corroding away whatever was left of my moral being.

"He left a pretty thing like you alone last night?" Beau asked, surprised.

"I can take care of myself just fine," I replied, annoyed if he was implying I was a weak, defenseless girl. "I fought both Crow brothers after all and lived to talk about it."

There was a wondrous gleam in his eye as he looked at me with adoration. "You're going to share those tales with me one day," Beau said. "I have to say, Ms. Aria Valencia, you are one fascinating creature."

"Did you just call me a creature?" I asked.

Beau shook his head. "You're one of those beautiful creatures, like a unicorn or a mermaid. No need to toss your panties into the weeds."

He picked up the seductive red dress and handed it to me. "Here," he said, "For the wedding. I figured you didn't bring any formal wear on this little trip of yours and to make amends for pointing a gun at your not-boyfriend's head, I thought I'd buy you this pretty red dress."

"Beau, it's gorgeous," I said as I marveled at the beauty of the silky fabric. "But I don't think I can do it justice. I mean, jeez this dress is supposed to be a head turner. I think you need a girl that fits that bill."

"Why darling," Beau said with a sly grin, "You're the only girl I can think of that can possibly wear this."

His words reminded me of Abraham-sweet, kind, Abraham-who had convinced me that another ravishing dress belonged to me, despite my protests.

They both had a similar charm about them, though Abraham was nowhere near as pervy and conceited.

I missed him.

"What about me?" I turned to see Lincoln, standing by the doorway. He looked tired and his eyes were completely bloodshot. The vaults of energy he usually had stored away in that lean body of his had evaporated overnight. My eyes immediately diverted away from his gaze. All the shame I felt threatened to spill out from me in the form of tears.

Shadow said it like he missed you, like he still loved you.

Those words reverberated through me like church bells echoing through a hollow cathedral.

I swallowed hard and faced Lincoln.

I regretted pushing him away like I did. He wasn't the one to blame for what had happened. I was the one who came onto him. I was the one who mislead him.

I-Aria Valencia-was the one that was beyond screwed up.

Say something Lincoln. Say anything that would cut through this awkward tension that I created. Say something to make me feel better, like all those other times during the course of the past two weeks.

Say something to make me not feel like the s.h.i.ttiest person in the world.

"Any chance you have a coffee for me somewhere?" he asked, looking at our cups. "I could sure use a pick-me-up."

That wasn't what I wanted to hear.

"I could only carry two," Beau said, not even batting an eye towards him.

"You have a tray with four cup slots," Lincoln pointed out.

Beau had a smug smile on his face. "You ever try balancing three cups in one of those things?" he asked. "It's really a difficult thing, seeing as how the center of gravity is all off and messes with the equilibrium in my wrists. I probably would have spilled if I had three coffees. I could have bought four coffees I suppose, but that would just be a waste of money."

"You s.h.i.tting me?" Lincoln asked.

Beau looked at Lincoln and replied with a deadpanned, "Yes, I probably am."

"You're still harboring a grudge against me over Donald?" Lincoln asked.

"No," Beau replied. "I'm harboring a grudge over you for being a d.i.c.k, and putting me down for all I've done for the organization thus far."

"Good job Beau," Lincoln said sarcastically, while clapping his hands. "Glad you're now part of the s...o...b.. Gang. Now if you excuse me, that bullet-ridden sofa bed is tempting me with its siren song."

Lincoln walked over to the sofa bed and collapsed onto it, not once casting a glance at me. "Wake me up when we have to go," he said, closing his eyes.

d.a.m.n it Lincoln, not you too.

I could barely handle the fact that Shadow was giving me the silent treatment, but for Lincoln to as well? Were all men in my life going to be like this from now on? Refusing to speak to me when things began falling apart?

"I'm not completely heartless," Beau said, cutting through the silence. "I did get you a suit. We wouldn't want you showing up at a party looking like the unsightly vagrant that you are."

"Thank you, Beau," Lincoln announced, his voice still filled with sarcasm. He didn't even bother opening is eyes.

"Well, I can tell we're in no mood to enjoy each other's company," Beau said. "I'll take my leave-even though this is my place."

"Much appreciated," Lincoln said, his eyes still closed.

"I'll meet you by the boats at six p.m. sharp."

I was surprised. "Boats? I thought we were going to a wedding?"

"We are sweetheart," Beau said. "Didn't you read the invitation?"

I shook my head.

"It's on a plantation, accessible only by boat," he replied. "It's going to be quite the extravagant function from the looks of it."

Lincoln opened his eyes and eyed Beau suspiciously. "Who's marrying Delilah?"

I stared at Lincoln's face, his once smooth features now outlined by light stubble. Along with the weariness in his eyes and the new haircut he was sporting, I was starting to believe that Lincoln was evolving into another man.

"Well that's the interesting thing," Beau said. "The card doesn't say who's getting married, just the time and the location. I guess it's a surprise."

Lincoln shrugged his shoulders, and rested his head back on the pillow of the sofa bed.

"Good night," he said.

Beau sighed before strolling out of the flat. I was left alone at the table, staring at Lincoln. He was pretending that I didn't even exist.

If he wasn't going to say something, then I would.

"I'm sorry, Lincoln," I said.

There was a moment of lingering silence as I waited for his reply. My hands began fidgeting with a napkin on the table as I twisted it nervously-mimicking the emotions I felt deep in my stomach.

Lincoln finally opened his eyes, sat up on the bed and looked at me. "I'm sorry too."

"It's not your fault," I replied, relieved that there was some form of dialogue taking place between us. "I was the one coming onto you and making pa.s.ses. I just felt so lonely and weak. With Shadow treating me like s.h.i.t, I just wanted to feel like someone cared about me again. For some stupid reason, I thought I could feel that through s.e.x."

Lincoln shook his head. "Let's just pretend it didn't happen," he said. He stuck his hand out. "Friends?"

Despite the gesture, I saw the hurt on his face. It was the same look that Justin had when I told him a physical relationship with him would have been like incest.

Perhaps, the way Shadow was treating me was the Universe's punishment for me leading Justin on.

And now, I had used Lincoln as a means of s.e.xual escape. What punishment did you have in store for me next, Universe?

I had twisted the hearts of two lovely people, and in return, the Karma King was kicking my a.s.s all around town.

He still loved you...

Then why couldn't you just tell me yourself Shadow?

I turned and looked at my reflection in the mirror.

Who was I becoming?

I stared at Lincoln's hand, reaching out to me, waiting for my handshake in return.

"Do you like me Lincoln?" I asked.

"Of course," he replied. "I'm smitten by your beauty, your entire don't-f.u.c.k-with-me persona you have going on. But most of all, I adore your heart, which seems to be in the same state of oblivion as mine at the moment."

"You hide your pain very well," I said.

"I hide many things very well," he replied. "There once was a time when I wore my heart on my sleeve but apparently people mistook that heart for a bulls-eye. Now, I keep everything concealed away."

"Except for your p.e.n.i.s."

Lincoln cracked a smile. "What can I say? I enjoy the pleasures of the female body."

There was a moment where the mood lightened between us, but that faded away quickly as the reality of what we'd done set back in.

"I still love Shadow," I stated. "He's treated me like trash, and by all that is right, I should have kicked him to the curb for making me feel miserable. But I can't control how my heart feels."

"The human heart does fail us so many times," Lincoln agreed. "I never thought I'd fall in love with a murderous sociopath."

"Before I can move on, I need to speak to Shadow. I need to sort it all out with him. Without that closure, I'd just be using whoever I become intimate with," I took a deep breath. "I once used Justin. I knew he loved me and I should have let him down sooner, but I wanted his friendship so badly that I decided to string him along. I was lonely." I looked into Lincoln's blue eyes. "I don't want to do the same to you."

Lincoln nodded. "That's fair," he agreed. "I guess we're both all different kinds of messed up right now."