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“Iknowwe’re drunk.” Cole laughed. “So, yeah, let’s go.”
He stood up, cleared our plates, and returned to me. Cole extended his hand. Grinning, I took it. He pulled me against him, and we staggered out of the market. “Thanks for the cupcake,” I hiccuped.
“Mine was better, but you’re still welcome.”
I leaned against him, as much because I was drunk as because I wanted to. I’d beendyingto be close to Cole again. And there we were, finally. He put his hand on my ass, and I sighed happily. “You’re a frosting traitor, but I’m still happy to be back,” I said. I was clearly drunk as shit.
Cole was, too. “Yeah.” He kissed the top of my head. “I’m happy you’re back, too.”
“I don’t wanna talk about anything too deep,” I yawned, stumbling over the cobblestone sidewalk, “but I sure missed you a lot.”
“I’m too drunk to make sense of that.” Cole held me up as he waved for his driver. “So, can we agree not to talk about anything important?”
“Sure thing, Coley.” My head throbbed as he helped me into the Escalade. The drive back to Fifty Liberty was real quick, and thank goodness. I wasn’t feeling too good.
Cole kept his arm around me. “Is the carspinning?” he asked.
“Nah. Just don’t look out the window,” I counseled. “It’s better if you close your eyes.”
We gripped each other until we arrived, and then, somehow, the driver helped us out. Cole and I staggered toward the lobby. Amari held the door open for us, a worried expression on his face. “Are you two okay?”
Cole nodded, but he held up his hand. “Can’t. Talk.”
“Must. Pass. Out,” I finished for him.
We collapsed inside the elevator. “Your place or mine?” Cole asked.
“Mine. It’s closer. I might not make it to the penthouse.” I gripped the wall until we reached my floor. We spilled out, somehow punched in the code, and made it inside.
Cole headed for the first couch he saw. “Babe. I’m too drunk to fuck.”
“Ha! We aren’t doing that anyway—your lawyers said so.” Laughing made my head hurt. “But it doesn’t matter. I can’t evenwalk!”
“Me either. You take that couch.” Cole pointed to the one adjacent to his. “Here. Blanket.”
He tossed a tasteful, cozy, neutral throw onto my couch. I somehow wrenched off my shoes and my dress and gratefully climbed underneath it.
Before I passed out, I heard Cole say, “I love you, Jenny. I’m mad at you, but I still love you.”
“You were a real dick tonight, so I’m mad at you too. But s’okay. I still love you too, Coley.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
He started snoring. I tucked my blanket around me.
Good thing neither one of us was going to remember any of this in the morning.
Something was buzzing.Beep. Beep. Beep.It hurt my head.
“Stop it,” I mumbled. It hurt to mumble. It hurt to hear buzzing. “Oh my god, stop…” I blearily opened my eyes and saw my bag on the floor. The buzzing was emanating from it.
Glaring at my bag didn’t make the noise stop. I lunged for it, the effort almost Herculean based on the depth of hangover hell I was currently experiencing. I rummaged through the bag and grabbed my phone. I turned the ringer off—I had trouble getting my thumbs to work but somehow managed it.
A text message flashed across the screen. The number looked familiar.
My stomach was already in bad shape and roiled.