I’m lying on my couch, trying not to fucking stress over the past couple of weeks with Piper. I’m blankly staring up at my 60-inch flat screen TV that hangs above my fireplace mantel. My favorite team, the Giants, are playing and winning the football game.

The part that sucks so much about this nice little ambiance scene that I’m tossing your way is the fact that I should be cozy in my fucking house, watching my game, but I just can’t fucking concentrate on anything right now.

I love Piper.

This isn’t the first time I’m admitting it to you, to her or to myself, for that matter. It’s all out there in the open, flying with the breeze.

It takes an enormous amount of fucking courage for me to put myself in the kind of situation where I’m fucking vulnerable as shit.

Let’s face it―I’m Zane Xavier Tanner, and I’m a fucking bad ass. I know it, Piper knows it, and everyone fucking knows it.

When it comes to women, I fuck them and usually dump them, but something is different about Piper. No, it’s not because she grabbed me by the balls and made me sign her contract.

I don’t even care about the Baby Batter contract anymore. I know Piper pretends to be a hardass but she really is a sweet girl who’s hurting underneath it all. I know; really fucking deep for me, right?

I sigh and stand up, feeling restless all of a sudden. I need to busy myself so I don’t go fucking crazy. I hear the crowd roaring on the TV. Fuck yes! The Giants score another touchdown.

I wish that I were at the game right now―and with Piper. It would be fucking fun, and I want to be able to enjoy outings and road trips with her.

Is she a potential soul mate, you ask? Maybe, but maybe fucking not. I just haven’t figured that shit out yet, okay?

I’m conflicted, because I love Piper enough to give her what she wants, which is a baby and a family. I just don’t know how to process and digest these new loving feelings for her, and I’m scared as shit. I’m fucking man enough to admit when I fear something.

The stakes are higher because of the fact that I fucking love her now.

She says she loves me, too, but do I believe her?

I think so…I mean, she looks like she loves me when she says it. When we fuck, it’s passionate and shit, so that has to count for something, right?

I walk to my fridge and pop open another beer, but then I grab some Doritos from the pantry, too. Maybe if I snack a little, I’ll become distracted.

Fat fucking chance. Even though the chips are good as hell, I’m still thinking about Piper and her sexy, wet pussy dripping with love juices.

My cock tingles under my pants. I think about jerking off to the image of Piper’s legs spread wide open, but the churning in my stomach prevents me from being able to fucking enjoy myself.

I take a cold shower, hoping that the water will help release some of the steam I’m holding within, but it only makes me fucking colder. I grab a pair of shorts and a long-sleeved tee and wrap myself up under a blanket.

I try to fall asleep, but I’m too wound up internally. I know it’s a fucking crazy idea, but on a whim, I decide to go for a walk.

I love Manhattan at night. There’s something about the lights and how the crazy people come out of the woodwork that just really make the city seem electric and alive.

My energy level is fucking out of it tonight. I’m hot, I’m cold, I’m tired, and I’m energized all at once. I’m hoping that my night stroll will pacify me and help me calm the fuck down.

When I go out on the street, I’m immediately hit with the familiar sounds of sirens blaring, horns honking, and neon signs illuminating the whole place. Everywhere I look, I’m assured that Times Square is the perfect fucking place to be distracted and to lose myself in my thoughts.

I walk the entire way, stopping only to absorb the flashing scene, still all lit up like a fucking Christmas tree, even though it’s well into the late evening.

Most normal people are back at home, tucking their kids into bed and getting ready for a fucking session before they doze off.

This thought pulls me back to my present fucking problem, and that is the fact that children and a family are not a part of my master plan to conquer the universe, and up until now I viewed even the sheer thought as a massive roadblock that would derail me.

Am I the kind of guy who can tuck little kids into their beds at night and kiss their soft cheeks and smell their baby soap scented hair? I’m not sure yet. The idea is both intoxicatingly refreshing and fucking repulsive all in fucking one.

I run my hands through my hair as I walk past the NYPD station right in the center of Times Square. I sit in those little red bistro seats, and people watch until I’m exhausted and bored, still without an answer to my impending shit storm problems.

I still don’t fucking have a damn clue where I stand with Piper, or where things are going to leave off, but I know one thing for fucking sure: I care more about her than anything, and I definitely don’t want to hurt her.

I walk home, making my way along slowly. Of course, as soon as I plop back down on the couch, there’s a fucking knock at the door.

What the fuck? Who is at my house at this fucking hour? Adrenaline pumps through my veins as I realize it might be Piper coming for a late-night love making session.

With a racing heart, I throw open the door expecting to greet her but instead, I see a courier at the door. Buzz kill at its finest, I begrudgingly retrieve the package from the gloomy looking package dealer and look at the sender information.

I immediately notice that it’s a manila envelope and the label proves that it’s paperwork from Piper’s ex-boyfriend regarding the blackmail.

Anger heats my face and I throw the documents onto the kitchen table, refusing to even open them much less take a look at their contents.

I already fucking know what they are going to say and I don’t want to deal with this bullshit so fucking late at night.

I vow right then and there to use liberal determination to get that asshole off of Piper’s Lacy Desirable’s board.

That fucker is going down and I’m going to make fucking sure of it.