Chapter 1

Tears stained her cheeks, but certain ferocity burned in her eyes. Blood rushed to her head making her temples pound. The man she had called her fiancée turned out to be an asshole just like all the others before him. Her fists clenched and shook slightly from the repressed rage. When she couldn't hold it back any longer, she screamed as loud and long as she could, simultaneously kicking the shit out of her couch. A loud snap brought her back to reality; she slumped forward onto her now broken couch, with a defeated sigh. She tried to take a deep breath, but her emotions got the better of her and clogged her throat.

It's all my fault.

Another round of tears rolled silently down her face, her head still pounding with a vengeance. She slouched forward and hid her face in her hands, weighing out all her problems. Her muscles ached from being wound so tight and yet, through it all, her mind kept replaying the scene over and over in her head.

It went something like this:

She had decided to show up at Justin's apartment and surprise him by making lunch. It was a little after noon when she showed up with a bag of groceries, not knowing what he had on hand at his house. She let herself in with her key and sauntered toward the kitchen to unpack. She had barely gotten into the hallway when she saw them, screwing on the sagging dinner table. She lost all her motor functions: her jaw dropped and groceries fell. Justin and the girl looked up at the sound of the crashing groceries. They didn't even move to cover up either, just laying there: her legs wrapped around his waist and both sending her matching deer-in-the-headlights looks. She took a deep breath, closed her mouth slowly, and stared at a spot just slightly above them.

"We are over, Justin." She had said in a strong, irritated tone.

She wrenched his stupid ring off her finger, flung it in his general direction, and stormed out of the apartment. How in the hell she got home she didn't know. It was all a blur. Her blood boiled and her head began to throb just thinking of those two entwined.

She slouched into the couch hearing it moan beneath her weight. So it wasn't quite broken, but it definitely would not hold up her and her two best friends. They would indisputably want to know the details, but she wasn't ready to talk about it, just yet. She knew she was too close to snapping and if she were going to take anyone's head off it would be that rat bastard's.

I'll wait until later to call them. I shouldn't be so selfish; Paradise and Sydney both have lives and boy attachments. They don't need my grief or the extra pounds from a Haagen-Dazs induced pity party. Huh ... this is definitely an interesting way to get flung back into the dating pool again.

That's what it was too; she had been hurled back into the dating pool. So what if half her stuff was in boxes? At least she still had a chance to renew her lease. Still, she was going to be ready for it. The hell if she wasn't going to look good getting back into the dating scene. She jumped off the couch and strolled over to her bedroom. It was in perfect, catastrophe style, disarray. Within a minute she was in a jogging outfit, her hair tied up in a ponytail, and tying the laces on her tennis shoes. There was no way she would be able to find her iPod in the mess, so she just grabbed her keys and headed out, locking up behind her.

The rolling sweat droplets plastered bits of loose curls all around her face. Her heartbeat thundered in her ears as her feet slapped on the concrete. The sun had started its decent from the mid-day sky. She hummed show tunes to herself in an effort to keep calm and reduce her stress levels.

Start spreading the news. I'm leaving today. We're all a great big part of it, New Y--

Smack!

The next thing she knew she was on the ground, looking dazedly up at a man with beautiful dark green eyes. She wasn't exactly sure how she got on the ground or why. The man leaned down as if to see if she was all right, a strange mixture of laughter and concern lurking the beautiful green depths of his eyes.

"Are you ok?" He asked in a laughingly worried tone.

She looked up and him in a stupor, surveying and weighing how trustworthy he was. He looked absolutely yummy; dark brown hair side swept, just enough to get into his eyes, a strong jaw line, his white t-shirt and open black jacket covering was covering what she was sure to be a well muscled chest, boot cut jeans hugged his hips in a simply sinful fashion, he smelled like coconut suntan lotion. As an added bonus, he didn't have a ring on his finger. What were the odds? She did however get a small motherly type voice, in the back of her head, telling her to be wary of this disarmingly handsome stranger.

He smiled knowingly down at her and offered her a hand. She decided to take it and was pulled her effortlessly to her feet. "Thanks. I don't think we exactly saw each other," she said hesitantly. She noticed for the first time the stack of fliers in his arm. No wonder I didn't see him! She mentally chided herself. She looked down toward her feet in an attempt to hide her blush and was surprised by the number of papers there.

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean to make you lose all your fliers!" she bent down to retrieve them in an effort to grab them before they blew away in the mid evening breeze. After the first 5 or so she stopped to examine one. Blood donation fliers, she slowly stood back up to hand them over.

"You didn't really have to do that Miss, I have plenty more..." he stumbled, searching for a name where there was none, "Wow that feels odd, sorry I didn't seem to catch your name." He trailed off in a divinely smooth manner and silently waited for her to introduce herself.

"I'm sorry. Gosh! I'm really on top of things today, aren't I?" The voice in the back of her head reminded her why she was distracted and she grimaced. "I'm Heather..." she smiled up and him and continued, "and I'm not going to tell you my last name, because I just met you and you could be a stalker." She noted silently that he was really tall: at least 6'1" if not more.

He smiled down at her, "Well Heather, who has no last name, I'm Mark. It's nice to meet you." Mark gave her an extra big smile and took the slightly crumpled salvaged fliers from her hands.

Heather momentarily panicked; he was touching her! Why was he touching her? She was right about to kick him in the nuts and run for home when the realistic part of her brain kicked in. He was getting back his fliers. God, she was so self-centered. She glanced down at the fliers that were now in his hands.

"So Mark, when is this blood donation event?" She inquired in a small voice, mostly because she was ashamed of her instincts: fight and flight in that order. She continued to glance down and away from his friendly gaze. She noticed he was also wearing a blood drive t-shirt, the cheesy ones that they normally give away, but he somehow pulled it off.

"Well, it's normally on the 15th of every month, but we moved it up to this weekend deciding to do a two day event instead. Hence, the fliers." He looked down at her with those big dark green eyes and smiled. "Are you interested in coming? It's for a great cause, you know."

Heather considered it for a moment, his charm aside, mentally assessing the pros and cons. She might get to see Mark again, and that was a plus. They tended to provide free snacks and such at the events, also a benefit. The one bad thing was the needles.

Hmmm, I suppose if I brought Paradise or Sydney along it wouldn't be so bad. Besides less than 2 hours ago I was calling myself conceited and selfish. Is there a better way to move on with my life and help others? Maybe ... but this is easier and there will be cookies, so I can get my junk food fix without the added pounds of the pity party the girls would throw.