Morning dawns -- way too early. In his basement room, Nick falls over the body in bed with him to drop a mitt on his alarm clock. There's what looks like it could turn into a snuggle, but then Nick's heavily crawling over Aimee to get out of bed. "Go around, asshole," she mutters from under the covers. "What'd you call me?" he demands. She tells him she's sleeping on that side of the bed: "Because you got to get up, everybody does?" "Yep," Nick breathes, and takes off, leaving Aimee to burrito herself in the bedding as we hear Nick loudly peeing. Aimee hasn't gone back to sleep, evidently, as she calls out to him, "Wipe off the seat, Nick, I know you hit it." This segues us to the symphony of Nick's morning noises -- peeing, horking. "If I could fart now, I would," he says, staggering back into the room. "That's a surprise," sighs Aimee. Nick pulls his pants on, and Aimee finally sits up on her elbows, asking if there's no chance for breakfast. Nick says he'll stop by the bar. Aimee, harshly, says he won't: he won't have time, because he'll have to take Aimee to her mother's to pick up Ashley. Nick tells her to hurry up, then, because he has a ship to work today. We hear Joan's heavy foot stamping on the floor upstairs as Aimee drags her ass out of bed: "Your ma knows you got a ship, too." Nick stops at the door with his shirt in his hands, telling Aimee, "Don't go upstairs. Just head out the back." Walking out of the room, Nick bashes his head into a beam or something, as Aimee, pulling on her pants, crabs at Nick that they have a kid together. I mean, honestly. I kind of think Nick's parents are on to the fact that they Do It. Aimee asks what the big deal is if they spend the night together in Nick's parents' basement, and Nick scowls, "They're decent people." Dude, what are you? Okay, you still live at home, but you're in your mid-twenties. Wouldn't they be more concerned if they thought you were still a virgin? Cut back to Aimee, pulling off Nick's t-shirt and revealing what are, even to my untrained eye, a pretty spectacular pair of boobies. Aimee may be a mother, but with a rack like that, there's no way Kristin Proctor's ever nursed anything. Anyway, she pouts as she tries to turn her shirt right-side-out; Nick, looking up and seeing her sitting there braless, sort of stumbles over and claps a hand on her boob. Guy, we've established that you're not a virgin; I know it's early, but there's never a wrong time for a little finesse. Anyway, Aimee spits that they don't have time. "I know," says Nick. Aimee asks why he was grabbing, then. Nick: "They were staring right at me." Ha! He's right; they kind of were. The left one winked. Aimee huffily pulls her shirt back on, and Nick softens the impact of his brainless pawing by taking her chin in her hand and giving her a nice kiss...and one last squeeze.