Chapter 1 (Monica's POV)

Fate was always a tricky concept for me. I often wonder if fate reallly did exist or if life was just a series of coincidences. I always believed in the latter. I never believed in anything other than simply being in the right place at the right time. After the events that took place during the summer after my freshman year of college, I was forced to see that there were much stronger forces than just coincidence that led me to him.

I'd just finished my first year as a grad student at the local university. Most of my friends pooled their money and rented a beach house for the summer. I stayed behind to start as an intern on the set of Criminal Minds. How lucky I was to have been chosen for an internship that most girls would kill for. It had to be luck. I was going to be learning tricks of the trade for television production under the most influential group of actors, directors, and crew members I could imagine. Even luckier, they were actually going to pay me. Not many internships paid you for your services at the time. Though, I had somehow gotten the deal of a lifetime. Granted, I was no more than a lowly assistant, that did not make me any less excited to be there.

I just arrived and my nerves were starting to kick in right on cue. Armed with my security passed I trudged on. I entered the tall building that stood before me, only to be stopped by a rather intimidating security guard. I flashed my pass and he stepped aside. Taking a few steps, I turned back. "It's my first day," I confessed. "Do you have any idea where I'm supposed to be?"

"New intern?" he asked in a deep raspy voice. I nodded in response. "Down the hall third door on the left."

I mumbled a shy "thank you" and continued on my way. I slipped through the third door as directed. Behind it was an empty room with a large round table that appeared to be made of mohogany. Off to the right wall stood a small table with a fresh pot of coffee. Thank God, I thought as I strolled over and poured myself a cup. I took a long sip of the rich, dark liquid.

"You know, that coffee is strictly for the stars," I heard a voice from behind me and immediately began choking on my coffee. As I collected myself, I turned around to see a tall, gorgeous man leaning against the frame of the door. He had dark hair, even darker eyes, and intoxicatingly full lips. I imagined the texture of his lips and how they would feel against my own. Would they be as soft and supple as they looked from where I stood? I imagined his lips caressing my own as I slipped my fingers through his perfectly tousled hair. "So you're the new intern?" he asked, bringing me back to reality.

"Ahem, yes," I said shyly. "Monica Jones."

"Nice to meet you," he said extending his hand. "I'm Matthew." I took the hand that he offered and followed his firm, but gentle, shake. His hand was warm, soft and strong in my own. I began to drift off into a whole new daydream about his strong hands. I played the scene in my head of how they would feel firmly planted into the small of my back, pressing me against his hips. His hips, I thought. His hips introduced a totally different part of his body to my imagination. Wasn't I a little too old to be imagining these things about a man that I'd just met?

I was shaken back to reality for a second time when Matthew began to pulling his hand. I'd only just realized that what was meant to be a mere greeting had lingered for far longer than the appropriate amount of time. "I'm sorry," I said, pulling my hand away as my face grew hotter. I knew that the heat on my face was displayed in a shade of red that I'd only ever seen on Lucille Balls hair.

"It's cool," he said in a distant voice. Was it my imagination, or could he have been having the same impure thoughts about me that I was having about him? That's ridiculous, I thought. No way he could be thinking of me like that But there was something in his eyes that said otherwise. It was as if he was reading my thoughts because he quickly averted his eyes and cleared his throat. "So," he began, almost as awkwardly as I felt, "first day, huh?"

"Uh, yeah," I replied. "Fresh meat, I guess,"

"Don't worry," he said, regaining his casual composure. "Hazing rituals aren't that bad." He chuckled and I joined in on the joke with a nervous laugh. Unsure of what else to say to keep the conversation going, I took a leap of faith.

"Well, with it being my first day and all," I began, "I'm kind of unsure of what to do."

"Oh, it's nothing," he said, coolly. "We usually try to ex out the unnecessary coffee runs, but seeing as someone has raided our supply…"

"I'm sorry," I laughed. "I'm the new kid. I didn't know,"

"Relax," he said putting an arm around my shoulders. "I'm just bustin' your chops,"

"Yeah," I replied cautiously. "You're a little too good at that aren't ya?"

The rest of the cast and crew meandered their way into the room and I was introduced to them one by one. We began to settle in and the director called, "Quiet on the set!" I watched Matthew in awe. He was completely effortless. It was my first day and already, I couldn't deny my attraction to him. I've got to nip this in the bud, before it gets out of hand, I told myself.

The day went on and my nerves dissolved little by little until I felt like part of the team. They cut several scenes, and I played a good little intern and brought coffee and fulfilled any other requests as I was summoned. Before I knew it the day came to an end and the set was wrapping up. As I was gathering my things and mentally rating my first day on the job a success, I felt someone approach me from behind. "So how was your first day?" It was Matthew.

I turned to meet his gaze. "It was fine," I replied breathlessly.

He stood awkwardly in front of me before he spoke again. "Well," he began. "What do you say we grab a drink or something? Celebrate your first day?"

So much for nipping things in the bud, I thought. "Um, sure," I said hesitantly.

"I mean, if you're not up for it," he said, sensing my hesitance. "Don't do me any favors or anything."

"No, it's fine," I said, suddenly feeling a bit guilty. "I would love to."

"Alright then," he replied. "Lemme just get my jacket, and I'll meet you outside." I made my way to the entrance of the building. Seconds later, Matthew was beside me and we walked to his car.

The bar was comfortably deserted. We found a booth towards the back. A waitress came to the table in no time. "What can I get you two?" she said monotonously.

"I'll take a beer," Matthew piped up.

"Same," I chimed in. She left and then returned quickly with our beers. After placing them between us, she walked away. My nerves decided to make an encore now that we were alone together. I grew more and more flustered as the silence between us dragged on. I couldn't think of anything to say. Luckily, as if he could sense my need to break the silence, Matthew spoke up.

"So did you enjoy your first day?" he asked, leaning in.

"I did," I replied, nervously peeling back the label of my beer. "It was definitely a learning experience."

"Good," he said with a smile, revealing his perfectly white teeth. "That means I'll get to see more of you."

I could practically feel the rosy pigment spread across my cheeks. I found myself smiling as well; I was elated by his mildly flirty comment. My eyes, which had been anxiously fixated on the flaking beer label, dared to meet is intense, kind gaze.

As time passed and the number of beers we consumed increased, our conversation flowed more and more effortlessly. The night went on as we joked and laughed. He gave me the rundown on everyone on the show. Apparently, he was pretty tight with the rest of the cast, and had a bit of a bromance with Shemar. According to Matt they were besties.

A few hours later, I found myself becoming drunker than anticipated. "Oh, man," I said, dangerously close to slurring. "I think I should head home."

"Yeah," Matt chimed in with a small yawn. "We both have an early morning." He waved to the waitress and pulled out his wallet to pay the check. I began to protest and pulled out my own wallet.

"I can get that," I said.

"No, no your money's no good here," he objected, handing a few bills to the waitress. I stood, slightly losing my balance. "Oh, I don't think you should drive," Matt warned.

"I think you're right," I said with a half-hearted chuckle.

He rose from his seat and snaked his right arm around my waist to steady me. He took my left arm and let it fall lazily over his shoulders. He guided me back to his car and carefully tucked me into the passengers seat. A few minutes later, we were at his apartment. He helped me out of the car and led me up the stairs to his apartment. With one arm steadily fixed around my waist, the other fumbled with his keys.

"You can let go of my waist," I whispered in his ear with a lazy giggle. "I'm not gonna break." He hesitated, but eventually let go of me. He found the right key and hastily opened the door. Am I that drunk? I thought, or is he actually nervous? I stumbled awkwardly behind him and lingered in the doorway. I looked around through my hazy eyes at the contents of his home. His apartment was quaint and charming. Numerous odd paintings adorned the walls of the living room.

He vanished down the hall momentarily. "I'm sorry about the mess," he called from where I couldn't see him. "I wasn't exactly expecting company."

"No worries," I replied. "Chances are I won't remember in the morning." He returned with a stack of blankets and pillows and spent the next few minutes fashioning a rather comfortable looking bed. When he was finished, he walked over to me and returned his arm to its position around my waist. I'd flung my arms around his neck as he guided me towards the makeshift bed. He laid me down gently, but my arms remaind around him. He leaned in and we sank further into the cushions until he was laying on top of me. My hands slid down to his surprisingly strong shoulders. My shirt was slightly raised and I felt the tickling sensation of Matt's fingertips as they grazed the skin beneath my belly button. I dared to let my eyes meet his. His gaze was steady and unrelenting. I barely noticed him moving his face closer to mine. His lips met mine and all that I'd imagined about his lips was shattered. They were softer and warmer than I could have ever thought. I felt his tongue against my lips, beckoning them to part. I did so willingly, and our tongues met. He slid his hands to my hips and grabbed them firmly. I felt his body rise, lifting mine with his by my hips. He held onto me until we were both upright and I was straddling his hips. I laced my fingers into his hair and his hands ran over the small of my back.

His hands inched higher and higher up my back until they were tugging at the clasp of my bra. I broke my lips away from his and my mind instantly sobered. "What?" he whispered, breathlessly. "What is it?"

"I think we should slow down a little bit," I whispered back, mentally kicking myself for letting things get so out of hand. His hands slipped down to my waist, lingering, then eventually dropping to his sides.

"You're right," he said sympathetically. "I'm sorry." I could see the feeling of rejection swimming in the expression on his face.

"No, no, no," I consoled. "I just—It's my first day, and I don't really think I should be whoring it up with someone I work with so quickly. I mean I barely know you, and I just don't think it's wise for me to make things awkward in the workplace this early in the game. Just please, please don't take this as rejection—"

"Hey," he interjected. "It's perfectly fine. I get it."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, you're right. Things just went a little to far. I've just been thinking of kissing you all day. To tell you the truth, it's been kinda distracting. I've been completely off my game all day."

"Really?" I asked skeptically.

"Are you kidding me? You have the most intriguing lips I've ever seen."

"I'm sorry," I made one last attempt at smoothing things over.

"It's fine, I promise," he laughed. "I'm gonna get some sleep though."

He stroked the side of my face gently, and I leaned in for one last kiss. My lips met his briefly before I pulled away, determined to not get caught in the moment again. I released his hair from my grasp and rose from his lap. He stood up and stretched before retreating to his bedroom. "Goodnight," I called out to him shyly. I lied down and made my best attempt to get some sleep with little success. I could smell him on the blankets and pillows. He smelled like cotton candy and sweat. It was utterly intoxicating. The next morning, I rose before the sun and, incidentally, before Matt. I couldn't bear to face him after the events that took place the night before, so I ran. Luckily, I knew this area of town pretty well. It wasn't a long walk back to my apartment. Still, I was relieved when I closed the door behind me. I plopped down onto the couch and slowly unraveled. I mentally freaked out, trying to figure out how to carry myself around him from here on out. He seemed to be okay with everything last night, so I assumed I didn't have much to worry about.

I'd been on the set all day and still hadn't had a chance to talk to Matt privately. It wasn't hard to read his demeanor since he'd taken every opportunity to avoid any kind of contact with me. I tried repeatedly to make eye contact, but he was conveniently focused intensely on his script. He'd also made a point to stay glued to Shemar or Paget's side whenever there was a break, so as to never be caught alone.

When we wrapped for the day, I finally got my chance when he came back to get his coat. Everyone else had long since made their way to their cars and headed home. I slinged my purse over my shoulder and turned to notice him re-entering the room. He spotted me and stopped as abruptly as a deer in front of a set of headlights. "Hey," he said somewhat cautiously.

"Hi," I said matching his tone. "Listen, I know I left you kinda high and dry—"

"It's fine," he snapped.

"No," I protested. "This morning, I panicked. I couldn't face you. So, I ran."

"It's really okay," he said, but for some reason, I didn't believe him. "I get it." He turned on his heel and walked away, leaving things unresolved. Honestly, I couldn't blame him for being upset. What had I really expected after I ran out on him the way that I did?

Later that night, I was in my living room with my two best friends in the world: Rachelle, whom I'd hit it off with since the third grade, and a bottle of wine. Together, the three of us, would figure this mess out.

"So you just left?" Rachelle asked swallowing a huge gulp of wine. "No note, nothing?"

"Yeah," I said, feeling defeated. "I didn't know what to do." Rachelle let out a giggle. I picked up the pillow next to me and threw it at her, causing her to spill her wine. Thankfully, it was white wine. "It's not funny!" I shouted giggling with her.

"Oh, yes it is," she replied as her laughter grew louder. "That poor guy. I wish I was there to see the look on his face. You really are a bitch, hun!" I wanted to tell her she was wrong, but then I'd be lying. I was a bitch; and I hated myself for leaving Matt the way that I did. I was trying so hard to avoid a mess at my new internship that I created an even bigger one.

The next day, at work was a little less dreadful than the first. Though, we weren't as chummy as that first night, Matt and I had at least re-established speaking terms. It wasn't until shooting wrapped that we actually got a moment for serious discussion. This time, it was he who caught me off guard. I was grabbing my purse and preparing to head home. I turned around and there he was standing before me, his hands shoved in his pockets. "I'm sorry for the way I spoke to you yesterday," he said, lowering his eyes to the floor.

"It's okay," I replied coolly. "I'm pretty sure I deserved it."

"No," he insisted. "You didn't. I was an asshole. Can I take you out for a drink? I wanna make things up to you."

"Isn't that how this whole thing started? With a drink?"

"No tricks, Scouts' Honor?"

"Alright," I relented. "But, I'm paying this time."

"Fair enough," he said with a chuckle.

We headed to the same bar as before. Once inside, we sat at the same booth and were greeted by the same waitress. He ordered his usual beer, and I decided to switch things up by ordering a rum and coke. The first few minutes alone were slow going, but eventually we eased into the casual flow that we'd established the other night. I was, however, careful to take slow, small sips of my cocktail. I also made a point to drive separate cars to the bar. I was determined to not make the same mistakes I'd made the other night. Otherwise, what would be the point of the whole mess I'd made? However, after a few drinks, I found myself daydreaming about his lips the way I had when we first met. Desperate to keep my feelings at bay, I immediately rose from the table. I mumbled unintelligably to a very confused looking Matthew a lame excuse about forgetting to meet a friend after work and scurried out the door.