Hey guys! So I've got this fun little chapter for you. It's mostly a fun chapter because I'm still working out details of the plot. But, I hope you like it.

Just a heads up: it does change POVs

Chapter 12

Cammie POV

"Cammie, what're you drinking?" Nick came up to me double fisting Blue Moons. I glanced past him. Bex was on her second ginger whiskey, and Macey was casually sipping a vodka martini while typing furiously on her iPad (where she got an iPad on such short notice I have no idea). They sat on the outdoor patio. Tiki torches and fairy lights lit the seating area. About 100 yards farther, the black waves were lapping at the shore. The salty warm air clung to my skin.

"I'll have a Boulevardier."

Nick headed to the bar as I walked to toward the girls.

"Nice of you to finally join us, Cams," Bex said. "I thought we were gonna to have to come get you." She gave me a knowing look.

"Well that was unnecessary since I told you I was coming." I sat in the cushioned wicker chair. And finished off the rest of her drink—I had to keep up the rouse.

"Cammie, good news: I was able to get the white satin Jimmy Choos with the pearl beading." She showed me a photo on her iPad. "I was in a bidding war with this bitch from LA, but I won." She smiled with pride, and for a moment I was worried about what happened to the other bidder.

"Yeah, they look… uncomfortable," I said, looking at the 4-inch heel and tight fabric that I knew from experience would not give. Jimmy Choos were beautiful, but they were a bitch to wear.

"Well high fashion comes at a price." Macey shrugged.

I glanced at the price and almost choked.

"I can see that."

Nick returned to the table with more drinks. He sat in the open chair next to Macey, prompting her to scoot her chair closer to me. Nick handed drinks to Bex and me.

"Where's my drink?" Macey huffed.

Nick took a long sip of his drink and then looked at her with feigned confusion.

"Oh right." He smiled as if remembering. "It must have slipped my mind." He shrugged and took a sip, keeping his eyes locked with Macey's.

Macey rolled her eyes and stood up to get one. As she moved, she tipped the ice water from her drink into Nick's lap. He screeched and jumped out of his chair, dabbing at the water stain with a napkin.

"What the hell?" he shouted, glaring at Macey. She pursed her lips into a smirk.

"Oops." With a flip of her hair she walked toward the bar. Nick followed her, grumbling not very nice words in Farsi.

Bex and I shared a look and then burst out laughing.

"Do you think they're shagging yet?" Bex asked in between sips.

I shook my head.

"No way. There's way too much sexual tension between them. They both clearly want each other." I watched Macey by the bar. The rather attractive bartender was clearly flirting with her, but she was too busy glancing at the men's restroom where Nick had gone.

"What if we gave those two a little push?" Bex said. I glanced at her. The light from the torches flickered off her dark skin. Her eyes were full of mischief. She had a plan.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Oh you know… We'll give them a little push."

"Matchmaking, Bex? Isn't that a little childish?" Bex rolled her eyes.

"Oh come on, Cams. It'll be fun. Like the time when we tried to get you and Josh together."

I smiled in reminiscence. High school was so long ago, but I could remember the feelings of my first crush like it was yesterday: the rush of adrenaline, the nervous excitement, the wondering. It was a simpler time when all I had to worry about was Josh liking my new lip gloss and passing Solomon's classes.

Suddenly, I didn't want to follow through with my plan. I wanted to forget about Father's request, Ridgewall, the guilt from years ago. All I wanted to do was share some laughs and drinks with my friends and ignore the guilt and anxiety that I carried around like a tumor.

I glanced at my watch. I had about an hour until I had to fake a headache and go to sleep (aka meet with Alfie and head to Comoros). Until then I could suspend reality and play matchmaker with my friend.

"What'd you have in mind?" I asked with a smile.


Macey POV

I sat at the bar, sipping on my apple martini. The bartender kept trying to talk to me (as if). I clicked my manicured nails against the glass in a staccato rhythm. Nick really knew how to get on my nerves. I don't know why Cammie had to bring him along. He had no talents. All he brought to the table was bad fashion sense.

I glanced back at the bathroom. He walked out, and I felt my heart quicken. His eyes met mine. I quickly turned away and flashed a luring smile to the bartender.

"Another please," I purred. He flashed me smile and started preparing a drink. I peeked over my shoulder. I couldn't tell if Nick saw my interaction because he was currently flirting with a blonde.

I bit back a growl. I could tell that girl was tacky. Her hair came from a box, and her shoes were knock-off. Now, I don't judge people based on how they look or what they wear (okay, I'm lying—I totally do that), but this bitch wasn't flirting with him because she thought he was cute.

"Here's your drink, doll." The bartender interrupted. "I get off in ten minutes if you want to head to my hotel room? My Jacuzzi bathtub only fits one, but I think we can squeeze." He raised his eyebrows in suggestion.

"Not even in your dreams." I signed my receipt and stood up. The guy grabbed my wrist rather roughly.

"Wait a second, doll."

I snapped into action, and slammed the pen I was holding in between his fingertips. It dug into the wood, nearly missing his fingers.

"Don't call me 'doll,'" I growled. His eyes widened in fear. He knew I missed his fingers on purpose, and he let go of my wrist.

I stood up and sauntered towards Nick. The blonde was throwing her head back laughing obnoxiously, as if Nick was funny. He was too busy looking at her bouncing chest to see her hands slipping into his pockets.

I rolled my eyes at her inexperience. She was using her whole hand instead of her forefinger and middle finger. And if Nick didn't think she was flirting with him he would have felt his wallet being removed with her novice hands. I watched as she placed it into her purse.

He was soo going to owe me one.

I approached their table at an inconspicuous angle. Neither of them noticed me until I wanted to be seen.

"Nick! How crazy is it that I'm running into you!"

Nick looked up at me startled. The blonde accessed my threat level, looking me up and down. I took satisfaction as her brow creased with worry.

"Um what?" Nick asked.

"It's me! I work with Dr. Neilson? You came in last month to get tested? Hey, did that rash clear up?" I asked with a smile. The blood drained from Nick's face, and the girl's lip curled in disgust.

"I have to go," she said suddenly. She stood up and grabbed her purse.

"Wait!" Nick called. But, she was already far from the table scouting for her next hopefully rash-clear victim.

I took her seat and Nick's drink.

"You're welcome," I said with a smirk.

"What the actual fuck, Macey?" Nick asked. His cyan eyes were icy with anger. I felt a rush to my core as I watched his jaw muscle twitch in anger. He was damn sexy when he was angry.

"Oh calm down, Nick. She wasn't actually going to sleep with you. She just wanted this?" I pulled out the wallet I had stolen from her purse. Nick's face dawned with realization. He tried to grab it from me, but I pulled it out of his reach. "Ah ah ahh." I wagged my finger. "You know it wasn't very gentlemen-like to pretend you didn't have any money and make me buy everyone a hotel room and change of clothes."

"I never said I didn't have my wallet. You were too busy flashing Daddy's money around to let anyone else offer to pay," he said. His eyes watched me carefully, but he made no movements. His fighting style was something I actually found impressive (not that I'd tell him). He was like a snake: still until he was ready to strike.

"Please, you know how much money I make for every hit? I've tripled my trust fund. And that's not even including all the money I've invested," I said, flipping my hair.

"Unfortunately, money can't buy you a new personality," Nick said with a smirk.

"You know, if I gave a damn about your opinion, that might've hurt me," I replied.

"Well, if you listened to me maybe people would actually like you." He leaned forward in his seat and watched my reaction with a sardonic smile.

"I'd rather be hated than inconvenienced," I shrugged.

"Ms. McHenry?"

I turned to see a hotel employee waiting nervously with a clipboard.

"Yes?" I swatted away Nick's stretching hands as I looked at the employee.

"There seems to be a problem with your room," he said with a slight tremor in his voice.

"My room?"

"Yes. There's a leak coming from your room that could potentially damage the ceiling on the room below it. We've scheduled an emergency repair, and we need you to evacuate."

"Sucks to suck," Nick said under his breath.

I turned to shoot him a glare.

"Okay. I assume you have another room you can put me in?" I asked.

"Yes we've prepared another room for you. But there's a problem." The man shifted between feet. He looked around nervously.

"Come on. Out with it," I snapped, not in the mood to coddle a hotel employee.

"Well, we have limited rooms… And another guest needs to use the same room because their room is being worked on as well."

"Wait wait. You want me to share a room with some stranger?" I asked, nostrils flaring. This would so not happen in America.

"It's the nicest suite we have. It's the presidential suite. Lots of space. You won't be stepping on each other's toes."

"I am not going to share a room!" I stood up. "I need to speak with your manager."

"High maintenance," Nick coughed.

"I'm sorry, ma'am. There's nothing I can do. The other guest is a Mr.," the man looked at his clipboard. "McKnolty."

Nick's chair squeaked suddenly as he stood up.

"That's me." He stood next to me. "I am not sharing a room with this woman." We both glared at the employee who now looked like he was going to crap himself.

"I—I," he stuttered looking around. "I can offer you both complementary robes?"

"No!" I shrieked.

"Well…" Nick said. I nudged him in the side.

"That's not acceptable," I glared at him. Nick shrugged.

"Well, I kinda wanna stay in the presidential suite. You can go room with Cammie or Bex."

"Whoa, whoa. You think you're going to get the presidential suite? You can room with Cammie or Bex. I want the suite." I turned to the employee. "I'll take it."

"So will I," Nick said.

"No you won't," I said to Nick. Then to the employee, "Have my things sent up to the suite." By things I was referring to the Louis Vuitton suitcase that I had shipped from the agency about an hour ago. If our people were anything, they were fast at shipping items to far away locations. You wouldn't believe how many times I was stuck in some remote location without any proper hair care products. It helped our agency had drones that could drop packages half way around the world in record time.

"Absolutely, ma'am. If you'll follow me, I'll take you to the suite."

I followed the employee, trying to ignore the fact Nick was right behind me. He stepped on my heel purposely, and I had to resist punching him. If he thought we were sharing the room, then he was seriously mistaken. He would just have to stay with Bex or Cammie or find a comfy spot on the beach.

We rode the elevator to the top floor and it opened up to the living room of the suite. I've been in my fair share of luxurious suites and this one was no exception. The far wall was lined with windows that offered a spectacular view of the ocean. The living room had plush leather couches, white marble floors, and a Steinway. The ceiling was frescoed and surrounded by gold crown molding.

The employee left us. Nick took everything in with a doe-like look in his eyes. It would have been cute if it was on anyone else.

Luckily, my suitcase was waiting near the foot of the king-size bed. The only king-size bed.

"Well, it looks like you're taking the couch," Nick said as he hurled his body onto the bed. He sunk immediately into the plush. He moaned. "This feels like fucking heaven."

I could make you feel better than that bed ever could.

Oh my God. I did not just think that.

I shook my head, trying to remove the parasitic thoughts. Clearly, the solution was alcohol. I went to the stocked bar and began making myself a drink.

"Ooh champagne," came Nick's voice from the bedroom. A loud pop ensued. He entered the living room taking swigs from the bottle.

"Classy," I remarked. He flashed me a cheeky grin. His lips glistened with the remaining alcohol. I looked away quickly. After adding some crushed mint to my drink, I took a long sip. The alcohol burned my throat and hopefully any lingering traces of that dirty thought. Before I knew it, I had finished the drink.

"Wow," Nick commented. "Someone's thirsty."

For you.

Oh good Lord.

I abandoned the fancy drinks and poured the gin directly into the crystal glass. I took my glass and headed to the balcony. After throwing open the French doors, the salty air hit my skin like a dry wave. The balcony was furnished with a loveseat, low table, and armchair. The railing was covered in fairy lights as if they were vines tangled around a tree. I sat on the loveseat and enjoyed the sound of the waves lapping at the shore.

"So you're a gin girl?" Nick asked, coming outside to join me. To my dismay, he sat on the armchair. I mean, to my relief.

I took another sip.

"It was all my dad ever drank. So when I used to sneak his liquor, this is what I was stuck with. The first time I ever tried it, I immediately spit it back into the bottle. I never told my dad about that." I smiled at the memory.

Nick chuckled. "You'd make your dad proud right now," he said, jutting his chin toward my drink.

"Nah, he doesn't like that I drink. He doesn't think it's appropriate for girls to drink 'men drinks.'" I rolled my eyes. "In fact, that's partly the reason I left the Secret Service. He was never happy to see me toting around a gun in a boxy suit." I laughed bitterly. "If he could see me now."

"He doesn't know that you're saving the world. I think if he knew that he'd be proud of you," Nick said. I was surprised at his kind words.

"Maybe in a perfect world," I responded, finishing my drink.

"What was the other reason you left?" Nick asked. He finished the rest of the champagne. He headed inside to grab another bottle of liquor. I knew he'd be able to hear me if I answered, but I stayed quiet. I needed time to think about how to answer that question.

When he returned, he topped off my glass with gin. And to my surprise, he sat next to me.

"Trying to get me drunk," I asked coyly, deciding to ignore his previous question.

"You're a lot nicer when you're drunk," he responded. He filled his own glass with gin and took a sip. His nose crinkled in disgust, and he held back the urge to gag.

"Can't handle it?" I teased.

Nick begrudgingly swallowed. "Don't test me, Princess. I can handle way more than you can." He wiggled his eyebrows.

He was challenging me and maybe even being a little flirtatious? Not that it mattered. I was so not interested like that. But, I wasn't one to back down from a challenge. I immediately jumped up and headed inside. I grabbed another bottle of gin from the bar.

"First one to finish: wins," I said, unscrewing the cap and taking a sip. I had a pretty good tolerance. But, that didn't matter when it came to a gin drink off. It all came down to who could handle the most gin. And that was always me.

"You're serious?" Nick asked, walking back inside. His hair was tousled from the wind, and my hands ached to test if it was as silky as it appeared. I wondered if he used Moroccan oil.

"Unless you're scared," I taunted.

He locked eyes with me and brought the bottle to his lips. He took a long sip.

"Your turn." He smiled.

I took a long drink, longer than his. His eyes widened as I continued to drink. When I finally stopped, I could see the look of fear and realization in Nick's eyes. He understood who he was dealing with.

*****1 hour later******

I couldn't really remember what made me laugh, but I was definitely laughing. We were about 3/4s into our bottles. My cheeks were flushed, and the edges of my vision were blurry. But, man, I was having fun. My feet were propped against the headboard. Nick was sprawled on the cushioned bedroom bench.

"So you remember that case back in Portugal?" Nick asked. He had taken off his shirt and was wearing a thin thank top that accented his abs and arm muscles. I tried not to watch as he stretched. His shirt lifted exposing his midriff.

"Of course. We were undercover as a married couple," I responded, looking away and at the ceiling.

"Yeah, Zach and Cammie thought we'd be perfect 'cause we were always bickering." Nick reminisced.

I laughed. "We did a good job. Those drug lords never saw us coming."

"You did a good job," Nick said. He stared at me, piercing me with his eyes. "The way you manipulated those men and then took them out. It was… really hot."

"Yeah, well, I was just doing my job." Was I actually blushing? Or was that the warmth of alcohol?

"How can you be so badass yet still so annoying?" Nick asked.

Okay, now the heat in my cheeks was anger.

"You should know," I huffed.

Nick smiled and crawled forward onto the bed. He stumbled and fell face first onto the bed. The comforter muffled his laugh. He lifted his head.

"You're always so damn defensive," Nick said. "But your feistiness is what's so attractive about you."

"Oh shut up." I kicked him off the bed. A large thump and a moan ensued. I giggled.

He jumped up with sudden peppiness. He glared at me.

"You're going to pay for that."

He lunged for me, just as I rolled off the bed.

"Too slow," I mocked, taking another sip of gin. We still had a bet going. I set it down and then a pillow hit me square in the face. I blamed my current intoxication for my slow reflexes. I felt his arm snake around my waist as he tried to pull me on the bed. I thrust my elbow into his pelvis. He let go of me, and I used the pillow to whack his head. Before I could get away, he grabbed my arms and forced them behind my back. Our bodies were pressed together.

"Face it, Princess," Nick whispered in my ear. His breath tickled my neck. "I'm better than you."

I quickly knelt down, and used his weight against him to flip him over my back. He flew forward, and nearly caught himself, but, since his reflexes were slowed down, he stumbled.

"Not quite," I said, with a flip of my hair.

He got back up and smiled devilishly. He wasn't finished. I smiled back. I wasn't either.

We circled each other like wolves. My senses were slowed, but I watched his movements. If he thought about striking I'd be able to see it. My heart beat wildly against my chest.

He tackled me onto the bed, knocking the air out of me. I was almost impressed with his speed. Okay, I was definitely impressed that I didn't even see him coming. With one arm he lifted my wrists above my head. I struggled, but he pressed his hips against mine making me incapable of squirming. He used his other arm to grab his bottle of gin. He finished it, while he kept me tied down. He tossed the bottle and wiped his mouth. Then he looked at me with a triumphant smile.

"I win." He smirked and his breath was warm and laced with gin.

"You cheated," I huffed. At this point, my pulse was racing. He was too close—his body too warm.

"I never said I was a nice guy." He stared at me with intensity that showed his underlying desire.

"I don't like nice guys," I whispered.

His lips crashed against mine, and we were both powerless. Our mouths rivaled with equal demand. Desire licked though me. He held my wrists above my head, which oddly enough turned me on even more. His other hand cupped my face, his thumb grazed along my cheek.

His mouth roamed from my lips, devouring from the soft flesh below my ear to the smooth curve of my throat. I let out a guttural moan. His hand trailed from my cheek down my body. My back arched into his touch.

His hand skimmed the hem of my dress, leaving a trail of fire. He let go of my wrists suddenly and removed his body from mine.

I whimpered at the loss contact until he spread my knees roughly. He gave me a wicked smile before leaning forward again.

I closed my eyes in bliss. I'd never say Nick was talentless again.

Well what do you guys think of Nick and Macey's little tryst? Do you like chapters in other characters POV? I'm here to give you all what you want. *wink wink *