It's been a while since Mitch Grassi has been dateless on Valentine's day. He gets pretty desperate and in his drunken state tries to hook up with his ex-boyfriend. But when he wakes up the following morning, he finds himself in bed with his best friend, Scott Hoying.

Take a peek into Mitch's diary to find out what happened that night and how, in the weeks that followed, their relationship changes forever.

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Each of the chapters' titles are named after PTX Volume III songs and the stories are inspired by the lyrics.

"I know I shouldn't ever call back or let you come back but it's you."

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February 4. 8:00 PM.

It's 10 days before Valentines. I still don't have a date and I hate it. I haven't been single in a long time and honestly, I've forgotten how it's like. Besides, this is my favorite time of the year (aside from my birthday, that is) and I have nobody. I've gotta make a plan. Hmmm.

Okay, so Plan A, look for a date. Tinder would be a good place to start, right? Or will people feel my desperation? Fuck, I really hate this. If that doesn't work, Plan B is... what? Movie marathon at home, on the couch, binge-eating ice cream. Or drowning myself in wine. That kinda sounds better than Plan A. Plan C is... Scott.

I hate Scott. I don't actually hate him like hate him. He's got Alex and he seems happy. He's been crazy the past few days, trying to think of the perfect date for Alex.

Now that I think about it, I hate Alex. Because he has Scott. And honestly I don't think Alex realizes how lucky he is.

Ten days. I have 10 days.

I am beginning to hate this holiday.

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February 10. 10:00 PM.

It's been a almost a week and nothing. I am starting to feel desperate. I know it sounds stupid, but I'm a hopeless romantic and this is MY holiday. It doesn't help that everything around me seems to remind me of how happy this holiday could be, if only I had someone...

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February 11. 11:30 PM.

Two fucking days. I have gone through my contacts list five times. I'm still contemplating if I should text any one of them. I shouldn't... right?

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February 12. 10:30 PM.

I have a resolution. I will spend this holiday alone and I will enjoy myself. I will not depend on others to make this day a special day for me.

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February 13. 11:00 PM.

Holy shit, universe. Why are you making it so hard for me to keep my resolution? I got a message. From Travis. THE Travis. The you-gotta-choose-between-me-or-Scott Travis. Same Travis who broke my heart not too long ago. The Travis who I may not be completely over, I'm not entirely sure. And you know what his message said? "Hey, I miss you. Can we talk?"

He missed me? HE MISSED ME? Why now?? Maybe he was drunk. After all I got that message pretty late. Should I reply?

Fuck this. I should stop writing and start drinking. Welcome Valentines drunk, instead of ending it drunk. 

I wonder where Scott is. We should drink together.

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February 14. 10:00 AM.

Happy Valentines Day to me. I love my life. I love being single. I'm happy like this. Oooh, I'm making that my mantra!

Fuck Travis and his message. I shall celebrate this day.

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February 14. 10:30 AM.

So you know how I was drinking last night? And how people are generally stupid when they're drunk? I got pretty drunk and I did something stupid.

There should be an app or something so that drunk people can't send messages. I checked my phone. I sent a drunk text to Travis. "Heeeeeyyyyy. I mis u 2" That's what I sent him.

I wanna kill myself.

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February 14. 3:00 PM.

I'm writing an awful lot today. If you're reading this, you must be getting bored. Wait. If you're reading this, WHO THE HELL ARE YOU. Stop reading my diary.

Anyway, I'm a little sober now. That's why I have no excuse for what I just did. I called Travis. Like, I dialed his number but I put it down after 3 rings. Of course my name will show up on his missed calls list. He sent me a message after a couple of minutes, apologizing for not getting the call. He asked if I could see him tonight. I haven't replied.

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February 14. 5:00 PM.

I'm weak and I hate myself for it. I want to see Travis. I promise, just one night. You know, we were good together, before he gave me that ultimatum. I miss his kisses, his hugs... I miss him. Or the thought of him. Or maybe intimacy in general.

Valentines sucks. It's making me desperate and it's clouding my judgment! Or is it the alcohol?

In other news, I haven't seen Scott all day. He's probably painting the town red with Alex. At least one of us is getting lucky tonight. Maybe they're getting down at this very moment. Damn.

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February 15. 12:00 PM.

My head hurts. No surprise there. My room is a mess. No surprise there, either.

But why the hell is Scott sleeping beside me? Where is Travis? Where is Alex?

I need ibuprofen.

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February 15. 12:15 PM.

Holy shit. Memories are coming back. Did that really just happen?

"Every time you touch me and say you love me, I get a little bit breathless. I shouldn't want it. But it's you."

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February 15. 12:45 PM.

So I spent the last 15 minutes in the bathroom, emptying whatever I managed to eat or drink last night. I feel gross.

Scott's still sleeping. Was he more drunk than I was?

Just checked, he's still breathing. He's like a big bear, sprawled all over the bed like that. His bed. I'm still not functioning right. I literally just noticed that we are in his room, on his bed. And I am wearing his clothes. Why?

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February 15. 1:30 PM.

God, that shower felt great. My head's starting to clear now, too. My room looks untouched. Did I not go here at all?

So... Last night. I remember drinking a lot while deciding whether I should see Travis or not. I remember wanting to see Travis. I remember seeing Travis. Shit.

Checked my phone. I didn't send him any more messages. But I called him. The call log says we talked at 8:24 PM for 4 minutes, 30 seconds. That was pretty brief. Hmmm.

My phone is useless. I can't find any more clues.

Think, Mitch. What kinds of stupid did you do last night aside from seeing Travis?

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February 15. 3:00 PM.

The food must be helping me remember things. Is food supposed to do that?

Oh, it's not the food. It's being in the kitchen that helped me remember. Travis was inside the apartment, sitting on the couch while I was getting wine from the fridge.

So I let him in, I gave him wine, and considering how hungover I am, I definitely had wine with him. I must've been pretty drunk to have called him in the first place, right?

Couch... Wine... Travis...

Fuck.

I should probably drink more. I just remembered and I don't like what I'm remembering.

And I think Scott is up.

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February 15. 4:00 PM.

Scott looks like hell. I probably would be, too, if I broke up with my boyfriend on Valentine's Day. See, I knew it. Alex was a jackass.

He's refusing to shower or eat and he doesn't want me in his room. I'll try again later.

But let's go back to Travis.

He was on the couch and I walked over to him, wine bottle in one hand, wine glasses on the other. I didn't say anything until after I've poured wine and offered him his glass. I sat beside him. We sipped our wine quietly. For how long, I don't know.

"I missed you, boo." It might not be the first thing we talked about but it's from that point on that I remember. 

I think I wanted to give a sarcastic or bitchy reply, but the alcohol had chosen to empower my desperation and thirst for intimacy. "I missed you, too, Trav."

"The past few months have been crazy hard without you, Mitch."

I fell silent. I didn't reply because I didn't share his sentiment. The breakup was hard on me, yes, but not crazy hard like he said it was on him. I loved Travis but we fought a lot, especially towards the end. It was actually kind of a relief when we broke up. No more drama. But when I told him I missed him, that was true. Sort of. We shared some really good times in the year and a half that we were together. We were great together when we weren't fighting. We shared a lot of interests. Plus, the sex was good. Like really, really good. That's probably one of the things I miss about being with him, to be honest.

I must have taken a lot of time thinking those thoughts because he took my silence as a cue and he started kissing me. He put one arm behind my neck and the other around my waist. It didn't feel like he was forcing himself on me. The kiss was soft, waiting, expecting. I was too stunned that I didn't do anything to either encourage or stop him. So he continued kissing me.

You know how I said the sex was good? Well, all the things leading to sex were good as well, such as the kissing. Maybe it was the alcohol, the longing for intimacy, the familiarity of being in his arms or a combination of the three that did it.

I wrapped both my arms around his neck and pulled him closer, deepening the kiss. I opened my mouth and let his tongue enter. We kissed until we were out of breath. Then it all went batshit crazy after that. Travis started kissing my neck while I was hungrily running my hands over his chest, down to his waist, smiling when I reached the waistband of his jeans. I wasn't thinking straight, obviously, so I also had a hard time removing his belt. It wasn't helping that Travis had moved his lips and tongue to my ears, nibbling on them.

It was at that moment Scott entered the apartment.

Crap. Speaking of Scott, I should probably check up on him first.