~September 2011~

"Dude, seriously, you ain't got to go home, but you got to get the hell out of here." Keaton groaned when Maurice nudged him with a foot, "And you stink, what were you drinking anyway, gasoline?"

The night before was a blur, there were shots, drinks, and of course an argument with Zoe. There was always an argument with Zoe. He couldn't recall what the fight was about this time. Maybe she was jealous of an overly appreciative patron who just wanted to thank him for a well mixed drink. Or maybe he had grown perturbed when one too many zealous male fans rushed the stage while she performed. Whatever the case may have been, alcohol coupled with their untamed emotions always produced a fight of epic proportions.

"Vivi called about five minutes ago," Maurice pulled back the panels and opened the blinds, "Z's puking her guts in the toilet as we speak, she's also been crying most of the morning," He tossed Keaton's pants on the bed, "Go home, lay some pipe, and make things right with your girl."

He tried to sit up and a wave of nausea washed over him, "Fuck Zoe, she needs to apologize."

Maurice stood at the door, arms crossed over his chest, quietly laughing at the scene before him, "You were an asshole last night or do you remember?" Keaton sat and listened to his friend recount the evening. The piece of ass he briefly enjoyed during a short break from Zoe arrived at the club, intent on making her presence known to her ex fling and his girl. She flirted, encouraged Keaton to join in on rounds of shots, and even had the nerve to kiss him goodnight. By the time she exited the building his ego was on cloud nine and when his real girl approached him about his behavior, he went off; which only led to Zoe giving free reign to her one quarter Bahamian roots and acting a fool in their place of employment, "In case you don't believe me, I have the video on my phone to prove it."

He buried his face in his hands, "How pissed is she?"

Maurice took a seat and lit a black from the pack in his pocket, "Weekend at the shore pissed and unlimited passes to flirt her ass off at Northern Soul."

"That's a negative."

He jumped from the bed only to be greeted by Maurice's very vocal and ear piercing disapproval.

"Warn me next time," Maurice covered his eyes, "No one wants to see your pale ass in tightie whities."

Keaton shoved his legs in the pants and grabbed his shirt, "Shut up..." He struggled with the remainder of his clothing, "Where are my keys?"

Maurice laughed, "That's the other half of the story, your drunk ass should never play poker," He sifted his keys out of his pocket and dangled them in front of Keaton's face, "Take my car, I've got to try and convince Devario to give you back your ride."

~`~

Vivi Tam was standing outside of the apartment Keaton shared with Zoe when he reached home. His head was pounding and his pulse was racing. Vivi was Zoe's best friend and Keaton's worst enemy. Their semi - friendship had gotten off to a rocky start when the Japanese fireball overheard him, explain away the attachment to her friend, as just a physical thing. Years passed before she believed Keaton really cared for Zoe and each and every time he messed up, she quickly reminded him that she never approved of his place in her bff's life.

"About time you brought your sorry behind home." She didn't even give him a chance to respond, "What were you thinking, floating around the bar with that anorexic bitch," She moved for a cigarette and remembered the no smoking protocol of the exclusive building, "I should kick your ass myself but for some reason Zoe is in love with you even if she won't admit it to herself." Vivi turned the knob and stepped into the apartment.

The six room corner unit was freshly cleaned and the scent of pine lingered heavily, "Has she been sick all morning?"

The petite woman shrugged, "Merlot, Remy, Ciroc, and Patron...what do you think?"

Keaton shucked off his jacket and threw it on the sofa. He disappeared down the hall and tiptoed into their bedroom, "Zoe." He heard her body shift under the mountain of sheets. "I'm home." He ventured deeper into the room, closing the door and turning the lock. "I'm sorry about last night." A gush of air greeted him and soon Keaton was treated to the view of one very hung over Zoe Anders.

"What do you want a cookie?" He smiled at the site of ten cute, shimmery pink painted toes peeking from beneath the covers, "What you can have is my left ass cheek to kiss."

Keaton took her sass an invitation and lunged for the bed.

He tickled.

She kicked.

He attempted to steal a kiss and she damn near bit a hole in his back.

The playful and painful back and forth continued until Keaton pinned Zoe's hands above her head and straddled her body, "Enough."

She wiggled, squirmed, and eventually gave in, "I hate you."

A smile broke across his face, "No you don't." He eased into the space beside her and draped an arm across her stomach, "I'm sorry."

She curled into his side, "Don't forget stupid."

He kissed her forehead, "And stupid," His lips drifted lower and caressed her ears, "I love you."

Zoe kicked off the covers and bolted from the bed, "Just stop Keaton."

Keaton didn't allow her to put much distance between them. He was behind her within seconds, arms wrapped around her waist, "Zoe why do you hate that word?"

"Because people say the shit and they don't mean it," She plucked his hands from her body, "Just let this be what it is," She turned to face him, "A good thing that meets all of our needs."

He froze and took a step or two back, "Physical or emotional." He reached for her and she stepped from his grasp, "Zoe, don't shut down on me again."

Zoe moved closer and draped her arms around his neck, "Keaton, please, don't push," She lifted her body up on her tip toes and kissed the bridge of his nose before she walked out of the room.