He leaned forward in his seat to pick up a magazine, his long fingers flipping through the pages. I had to stop walking, leaning against the wall to catch my breath.

Wow. This was how it would be every time? I can't do this.

"You look so familiar. I swear I've seen you somewhere." I heard Briana say to him. I watched her twirl a red pen between her fingers, the wall blocking me from her face. By the sound of her obvious flirting, she might have been biting her lip or something else as foolish.

Nicholas wouldn't be interested.

"Maybe..." he shifted in his seat so that he was closer to her. "Did you read The Times last weekend?"

"I did but... Hey!" Briana exclaimed. "You're the guy with Yorick's skull! Like Hamlet."

"Yeah." Nicholas said.

"It's the hair! That's what reminded me. It's gorgeous."

Nicholas laughed, crossing his legs. "I know. What did you think of the interview?" He was not having a conversation with the interloper.

"I don't know. I didn't read it. I was too busy staring at your picture."

I coughed down a growl.

Nicholas chuckled, and I didn't wait for him to reply to that. Hurrying their way, I swallowed my contempt. Soon enough, Nicholas stopped flipping through the magazine. He leaned forward, turning quickly in his seat to face me.

"Katherine," he started, the back of his ears and his cheeks reddening. I squeezed my thighs together. His eyes darkened by the second.

Keep looking at me like that, mister, and I'll forget how friendly you were to two-face.

"You're here early," I said, clearing my throat.

He stood up, stuffing his hands in his pockets. His hair was a mess, a beautiful mess, and his dark gray t-shirt with Beethoven's scowl etched in the center showed every muscle off... all for Briana to ogle.

"Couldn't wait to see you." He bit his upper lip as I joined him for an embrace. "Hey."

He kissed my forehead, hugging me. I patted him on his back a couple times.

"Hey."

"Katherine," Briana cooed. "Where have you been hiding this man? Nicholas Phillips. Tell me he has a friend!" Filthy...

"I haven't been hiding anywhere," Nicholas replied before I could tell her none of his friends would want to be infected by her. His lips pressed against my temple. Then, he stepped back, holding me an arm's length away, looking over my shoulder at her. "And none of my friends would know how to treat someone as pretty as you."

He was trying to drive me insane, I see. I pulled my arms out from his. Where does he get off?

"You'll be coming around... again," Briana said, breathlessly. "Tomorrow?" she added quickly.

I pinched Nicholas's waist, causing him to raise his left eyebrow. I cocked my own. What did he think he was doing, flirting in front of me like this? And with her?

I walked over to my desk, legs like jelly, fists at my side like a child, picking up my satchel and the tablet. The tingles steadily intensified with each step, flying up my throat and down my thighs. I was a ball of nerves and desire. I had to get out while I still had the sliver of composure I had left.

"Nicholas has a lot of things going on this summer," I said shakily, taking deep breaths. "This might be the last time you see him."

He raised his left eyebrow again, smirking. "Katherine's right," he said, thankfully cooperating with my lie. "I do have a lot going on." Good boy. "But you may see me sooner than you think."

"So effing polite," I said under my breath before rejoining them.

Nicholas leaned against the doorjamb, his eyes dancing, a playful smirk on his lips. He must have heard me. Judging by Briana's response, she didn't.

"Good. This place needs more beauty in it. Well, besides me... oh, and Katherine, of course."

"Of course," my dry response. "Let's go, Nicholas." He nodded, pulling my satchel off my back, and taking the tablet from me. "You don't have to-" I started, under my breath.

"I want to." His eyes were kind as he tugged my shirt sleeve. Then, while keeping my gaze he said, "It was nice meeting you, Briana."

"It was nice to meet you, too."

Shutting the door behind me, I spotted Briana's eyes following us. She looked like she had found her second Shawn Edwards.

I followed Nicholas to the elevator, mired by my disgust for her. I felt my cheeks heat up, watching Nicholas's easy strut. Everything was so easy.

"Hey, you hungry?"

Really, Nicholas? That's all you have to say? Really?

"Not in the mood for a meal, no. I think I've had enough bull for today."

"Katherine?" He turned around to face me when we arrived at the elevators. "What's wrong?"

She looked like she wanted to do you right in front of me, and you were egging her on. That's what's wrong.

He sidled up to me, kissing my cheek. My body responded immediately, opening up to him as if it had a mind of its own. When he stroked my cheeks, I sighed. But my mind whirred, hurt and confused.

"Katherine, come on. Hey..." He drew out the "hey" so began to sound like a hum. "You look like you want to kick something."

"I'm fine. Let's go... let's have dinner or whatever," I said, sniffling. I leaned my cheek into his hands.

"I wanted to pick up dinner but we can order in, instead. You've had a long day."

"No," I said, pulling his hands down from my face. "I'm fine." I took a breath. "Really. Where did you want to go?" Briana's place?

"Do you like spicy food?" he asked, leading me into the elevator. Could he not see why I was incensed? Did I need a sign on my forehead?

"Depends how hot it is. If my tongue falls off and shrivels up like a habañero pepper, then, no, I don't," I said, averting my gaze. I couldn't look into his eyes and see the nonchalance.

"Okay. Did I do something?"

"No, nothing." I scoffed. "You're perfect."

"Katherine..."

"Where're we eating?" I grimaced, focusing on the elevator doors closing. "What's the place called?"

"Spice. I promise, it'll be the best curry chicken and vegetable dumplings you will ever have in your life." He squeezed my shoulder.

"Good. Can't wait."

We walked to the train station, hand in hand, my funk a dark cloud over us. Nicholas changed the subject to what he did today. He had found out something surprising this morning.

While emailing the students who were supposed to attend his workshop last Saturday, he discovered someone notified them of a cancellation.

"Diana?" I asked.

"Yeah."

"What are you gonna do?" We stopped at the light, waiting for it to change.

"I rescheduled it for Friday morning," he said, tapping my tablet against his right thigh.

"No, I mean what are you gonna do about Diana?"

Nicholas shook his head. "There's nothing to do. She doesn't matter to me anymore." We descended into the station, only a couple of people ahead of us at the turnstiles when I got this odd sense of déja vu.

"Nicholas, that was sabotage. What if she does it again?"

"She won't." He said the same thing at the park, when he swore she would leave us alone, yet here he was a victim of her jealousy. Why wouldn't he at least try to handle this? He was acting like it wasn't a big deal when it was.

"You said that on Saturday, that she would leave you alone. You've gotta tell her to stop this." I crossed the turnstile. That was when this wave of nostalgia came over me.

This was the Times Square station where we first kissed. Memories of the starchiness of his mint shirt in my hands, his chocolate and cigarettes, and his lip-numbing kisses returned to me. Memories of our fight returned, too. It took my breath away. I turned back, staring at Nicholas to see if this place had the same impact on him.

It did. Nicholas's arm tightened around my waist when I looked up at him. His eyes were just as wistful as mine.

We approached a location that had looked so different, yet so similar to the last time we were here. The escalator was still out of service, but the fluorescent lights were on. Every crack and crevice in the granite walls was illuminated. It seemed like the escalator hadn't been the only thing that needed repair.

So many things had changed for us since that day, but some remained the same. I got the sense he shared my sentiments. I was his, truly his, and he was mine. He wouldn't leave for another woman, petite blond or conniving brunette, yet, he was still an enigma to me. I wanted so badly to forget everything about Briana and why he openly flirted with her. I wanted to revel in his scent, in his cigarettes, but I couldn't.

"I missed you today," he murmured into my ear.

"Me too."

"Diana will leave me alone. Don't sweat it." He kissed my temple, wrapping his arms around me for a hug. We remained like this for a bit. Then, he said, "What happened with the report?"

"It was hell," I said into his chest. "All day, I've been playing catch up. I don't know how I'll make it through tomorrow."

"You will. You know why?" I pulled away, looking up at him and shaking my head.

"'Cause you got me." He smiled down at me, and I forced a smile back. His brash reply was like a cool glass of milk on my frazzled nerves, yet not as effective as I would have hoped.

"You're so cocky," I whispered, holding my tears in. I knew he wasn't, though, not really.

"You know you like it," he said, kissing my cheek. He chuckled. "You can't live without it... or me."

The local train arrived at the station. As he pulled me into the crowded car, I silently agreed with him.

We got off the first train at 23rd St., Nicholas excited for some Thai food which I had never had. He raved about this restaurant, Spice, and how hot the curry was. It was hotter than I was, he said, a grin playing on his lips. I forced the same smile and told him I would have the dumplings instead.

We walked into the restaurant, our tiny raven-haired hostess grabbing a couple of worn black menus. Abruptly, Nicholas stopped her.

"I know what I want," he said, politely. "We're ordering to go, thank you." He handed back the menus, taking my hand again. I turned to face him.

"We don't have to go. I'm fine. We can eat here."

He ordered the curry and the dumplings, the hostess hurrying away without thanking us.

Nicholas smiled. "I hate eating out." Then, he leaned into my ear. "I'd rather eat dinner with you, naked, in bed..." My cheeks heated, goosebumps flying down my arms, as he whispered other things he wanted to do to me.

I squealed at the last possibility and said, "Um, I don't think it's healthy to do that position right after a meal."

"Not the way I do it." His subsequent smirk produced a million endorphins. He was working the funk out of my system very well.

I giggled. "I think we should watch a movie afterwards, instead."

"Okay... but I get to pick." I love a man who takes charge. Nevertheless, I played defensive.

"But... you don't even know what movies I have."

"Actually I do, remember?" He rubbed my side like he did at the office. "You have all the ones I like."

"Jerk." I smiled, begrudgingly.

"What? I can't help it. I have good taste."

"What exactly did you want to see? The Lion King?" I asked, giggling some more.

"No, something a bit more... stimulating."

"I don't have porn, if that's what you're asking."

He raised his eyebrows, and I blushed. "Oh, I doubt that, but that's not what I want to watch, anyway."

"Alright, so what?" I reached up to run my hand through his wild hair. His eyelids dropped low, daydreaming.

"Requiem for a Dream."

I gaped, tilting my head to the right, giving him the once over. "You're stimulated by that? I feel like gagging each time. In fact, maybe we should skip dinner." I grimaced. The memory of a red-haired, heroin-addicted Ellen Burstyn was enough to make my stomach churn. How watching a film that I had found to be more disturbing than any film Eli Roth could produce could be sexually stimulating was beyond me. The more Nicholas murmured ideas into my ear, though, the more I realized how little of the film we would actually get to see.

"Are you planning on doing all of that before or after dinner?" I asked him when a pudgy waiter came back with our food in a clear plastic bag.

Nicholas shrugged, taking the bag from the waiter. "There's a lot to eat tonight. Either way, I'll be satisfied."