Nemesis(23)

Chapter Twelve


Sadie and I practically fall out of the taxi once we arrive home, then stumble to the front door. I can’t find my house key, and it takes Sadie about five minutes to find hers. We do make it inside though. Sadie sits on the counter while I grab two water bottles plus four painkillers. Then I turn the fryer on because I really feel like fries right now, and luckily we have some in the freezer.

“You want fries? I feel like bacon and eggs,” Sadie says, grabbing the bottle of water and painkillers.

I shrug, my head spinning. “Then let’s make both.”

“Okay,” she agrees, then starts giggling. “I had a fun night. Even though I fell over.” She pauses, seeming lost in thought. “We can never go back there now.”

I roll my eyes. “It’s the only place we go to, Sadie. Don’t worry, no one will remember you falling over.”

“The bouncer will,” she grumbles, swallowing the pills with the water. “He’s there every single week. And he’s hot. And he saw me fall over. I possibly flashed him during the incident.”

“You probably made his night then,” I say, taking the fries out of the freezer. “What’s the time?”

Sadie checks her phone. “It’s eleven. We better get to bed or we’ll never wake up for work tomorrow.”

“You think we’d be more mature and stop going out on weekdays,” I groan, rubbing my forehead.

“We’ll do that when we’re old.”

Sadie and I are eating the fries, smothering them in ketchup, when she says, “Is it too late to call the men over?”

“What, you aren’t going to spoon me tonight?” I tease, licking the salt from my lips.

“I love you, Jacinta, but there’s one thing that you can’t give me.” She wiggles her eyebrows at me.

“You going to call Ian?”

“You going to call Cohen?” she asks in return.

We both grin and pick up our phones.

*****

Cohen doesn’t answer his phone.

I mean, it is late, and he has work in the morning too, so maybe he fell asleep. I check the time since our last message. It was over an hour ago. Of course, my mind rushes to the worst scenario and, even though if Cohen is with someone else I can’t exactly get angry about it, I find myself unable to sleep because of it. Then again, it’s not like he would’ve found a random for the night. He was at home, didn’t even go out anywhere tonight. He’s probably fast asleep. I can’t believe I’m even worrying about this shit. I’m not going to bother asking him where he was tonight, because I’m not his girlfriend and it’s not my business. I never thought I’d be one of the women in a situationship, or whatever they call it these days, but it seems like this is the usual for dating in recent times.

I don’t like, not one bit, but I do like Cohen, and I want my fill of him. It’s reckless and selfish and stupid, mainly the latter—trust me, I know it. If I get too close to him, it’s me who will get hurt in the long run, not him. I should bail now, but there’s something telling me not to.

Probably my vagina.

I groan and roll over, burying my face in my pillow, the alcohol making the room spin.

I am not Cohen’s exception.

I need to say it like a chant, over and over, so deep down inside I don’t think that he’s going to change his ways for me. I’m smarter than this, usually, but Cohen makes my brain turn itself off. No, I can’t blame him. It’s me. And when this goes south, it’s me who is going to have to get myself together.

I close my eyes, and allow sleep to come.

*****

I’m five minutes late to work the next morning. I rush in, coffee in my hand, happy to see that no clients are early and waiting. Placing my coffee on my desk, I hope that my headache won’t last all day. I’ve had worse hangovers though, so I know I’ll get by fine; I have no choice.

Cohen is the last lawyer to arrive. He comes straight to my desk and flashes me a knowing smile, followed by a “Good morning.”

“Morning,” I reply, taking a sip of coffee.

“You don’t look hung over,” he points out, smirking.

“The power of makeup.”

“Did you have a good night though?” he asks, resting his briefcase on my desk.

“I did,” I tell him, smiling warmly. “It was good to have some quality Sadie time. We probably shouldn’t have drunk so much though.”

Binge-drinking, followed by binge-eating. Not our finest moments, but fun nonetheless.

He licks his lips, then asks, “Did you go home alone?”

I blink slowly a few times.

Did I go home alone?

“I wouldn’t have tried to call you when I got home if I didn’t,” I say, arching my brow. “I’m not the type to bring home a random guy, Cohen. You should know me better than that.”

I regret the words instantly. Maybe it would have been good to let him think that I have options too; I mean, it is him who set the rules. Now he’s going to think I’m going to be sitting around waiting for him whenever he wants to see me, so basically he’s free to do as he pleases and have a loyal woman at home.

“Right,” he mutters, looking down. “I just had to ask, is all. I’ll see you for lunch?”