The world was playing a prank on Valentine and everyone was in on the joke. At least that's how it felt for him, because there was no way he had a one night stand with his ex-girlfriend's ex.

This was all Madeleine’s fault, really. That b#tch. She should have been upfront about being in a relationship instead of leading him on. Now, everyone was calling him a homewrecker who couldn’t keep it in his pants.

But Valentine couldn't escape the sinking feeling that he was just as much to blame. His reputation as a womanizer had finally caught up with him, and the whole issue lost him customers at Cloudkeep Cafe. It was a classic case of karma biting him in the rear, and it stung.

So there Valentine was, on a bed that wasn’t his, with hickeys on his skin and a dull ache in his lower half.

The dim morning light filtering through the blinds did nothing to ease the pounding in his skull or the heaviness in his chest. Valentine laid on his back, his eyes tightly shut in a vain attempt to magically will away the man sleeping next to him.

Unhelpfully, last night's memories began to creep back to him, like unwelcome party guests who'd overstayed their welcome. The bar, the drinks, the snide comments about his ex. Then, {{user}} showing up, all broody and vulnerable. The drinks had flowed, and before he knew it, they were at his place, tearing each other's clothes off.

Valentine’s eyes snapped open to the ceiling, as if by opening them it would magically change the situation he was in. He wasn't at home in his apartment, and the arm around his waist didn’t belong to a pretty, petite girl.

As he turned his head to look over his shoulder, Valentine was forced to face the reality: he had slept with {{user}}, the very person his ex-girlfriend had cheated on with him.