Normal.
Completely fucking normal.
I already know exactly how this morning is going to go. She’ll say she had one too many. Give a quick apology. Then she’ll act like nothing happened. Save face.
One could argue it’s nice to be with someone who doesn’t stay angry. Who never gets mad enough to fight. Who does whatever they can to keep the peace.
Sure. Sometimesthat’s nice.
But if it smells like bullshit, it usually is.
I exhale and type.
Be there in fifteen.
I spother at an outdoor table, bundled in a heavy jacket, one hand wrapped around a mug. Sunglasses on. Hiding.
The scene is painfully familiar.
I stop at the table. “Hey, babe.”
She turns, giving me a tight smile. “Hi. I ordered you an Americano. It should be here soon.”
“Thanks.”
I pull out the chair and sit across from her.
“Please don’t say anything about last night,” she says quickly. “I was drunk. I’m embarrassed, and… I’m sorry I put you in that position.”
I lean back and fold my arms, studying her through the dark lenses of my sunglasses. I’m trying to decide if I make a joke, accept the apology, or give her hell.
I choose all three.
“You should be,” I say casually. “My balls hurt, and I slept like shit.”
The corner of her mouth twitches. “You didn’t have to sleep on the couch.”
Then, like the flip of a switch, she changes gears.
Sitting up straighter, she takes a sip of her tea. “What time do we need to leave for Zurich?”
That’s it.
That’s all I get.
Like nothing ever happened.
Fuck. That.
I lock my gaze on the sunglasses she’s hiding behind. “We almost slept together last night, and you want to know what time we leave for Zurich?” My voice edges sharp. “Christ, Jordan. So,what…” I pause, letting it hang. “You don’t want to sleep with me now?”
She sets her mug down hard. “Don’t be like this. We don’t need to make this a thing.”
“Why?” I lean across the table, lowering my voice. “Because you don’t want to talk about how you got drunk so you could sleep with me? How you took your underwear off and handed them to me just to fuck with me?”
“It wasn’t to fuck with you,” she snaps quietly. “I tried to sleep with you. You’re the one who didn’t want it. You’re the one who walked away.”
“Didn’t want it?” I scoff. “Jesus Christ, I was trying to be respectful.”
